“Mr. Bingley is an excellent man, and I am fond of him, but I do not see him that way.”
“Yet you are aware of Miss Bingley’s ambitions on that front.”
The rolling of Georgiana’s eyes was no surprise. “I would need to be blindanddeaf to have missed it.”
Darcy smiled at his sister and allowed her to enter her room. While she was refreshing herself from her journey, Darcy considered the situation. For a moment, he irrationally considered the notion of presenting Georgiana as a potential bride.
Sanity reasserted itself at once. Darcy had no interest in placing Georgiana forward for consideration to help Bingley regain his senses, and she had already stated her disinclination. Darcyhadconsidered the notion of Georgiana and Bingley marrying one day, but only as idle speculation. Besides, his cousin Fitzwilliam would never forgive him if he knew Darcy had even considered such a thing.
When Georgiana emerged, her appearance repaired, Darcy escorted her down to the sitting-room. Bingley, he noted, was waiting with unconcealed impatience, though why he would be in such a state was beyond Darcy’s comprehension. Then again, of late, he had often found his friend with more energy than he could easily suppress. Darcy wondered if this was what it meant to be in love. Or perhaps it was just how a man in the throes of infatuation behaved—Darcy hoped it was the latter, for it would be easier to turn him aside if all he felt was fascination.
“I hope, Darcy,” said Bingley when they entered, “that Miss Darcy’s coming means you are settled here for Christmas.”
“That would be agreeable to me,” said Georgiana before Darcy could respond, surprising him with her enthusiasm. “We would usually be at Pemberley at this time of year, but Netherfield is lovely.”
Then Georgiana’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Excuse me, Mr. Bingley, but what about your sisters? I understood from my brother that they were to remain in town—do you not wish to be in your sisters’ company for the season?”
Bingley’s expression cooled, but he moderated his tone instead of answering angrily. “Thank you for asking, Miss Darcy, but my sisters are content with London and will not come to Netherfield. As I am settled here for the season, I shall spend it apart from them.”
Then Bingley’s dourness evaporated in favor of his usual bright smile. “If you consent to stay, then I shall not be alone. Well, I shall not be alone anyway, as I am certain the Bennets will invite me—all of us—to Longbourn for the day.”
“The Bennets?” asked Georgiana, her eyes finding Darcy.
“Yes, my nearest neighbors to the west.”
Georgiana’s gaze was no less than assessing. “Brother, did you not write to me about the Bennets when you stayed here last month?”
Darcy wished he had not, with all his heart, especially when he saw Bingley’s eyes widening.
“Your brother wrote about the Bennets?”
“Miss Elizabeth in particular,” said Darcy, though he did not wish to speak of it. “If you recall, Miss Elizabeth and your sister engaged in some memorable debates when she was here caring for her sister. I told Georgiana about them.”
For several moments, Bingley stared at Darcy as if lacking comprehension. Then he burst into peals of laughter.
“Darcy! Do you mean to tell me that you wrote to Miss Darcy about Miss Elizabeth, a woman my sister despises aboveall others, right under her nose, while they were arguing in my sitting-room?”
“Why Miss Bingley’s antipathy for Miss Elizabeth should concern me is beyond my comprehension. All I did was amuse my sister with some anecdotes I thought she would enjoy.”
“At my sister’s expense, no doubt.”
When Darcy protested, Bingley only waved him away. “Do not apologize, Darcy. I am feeling less than charitable for her feelings myself. If you portrayed my sister in a negative light, I dare say she deserved it.”
The way Georgiana glanced back and forth between Darcy and Bingley, he was certain she sensed there was more to the story than she knew. As a well-bred young woman, Georgiana did not ask. But Darcy knew she would not forget, would remain watchful to learn what she could. Darcy wondered if he could keep her occupied enough that she would forget to ask her questions.
“To own the truth,” said Georgiana, pushing her curiosity away, “I have been most interested to make Miss Elizabeth’s acquaintance ever since my brother mentioned her in his letters. William never writes about ladies of his acquaintance.”
Bingley turned to Darcy, his look assessing, as if he’d never considered it before. “Then you should be prepared for barbed comments and discord, Miss Darcy. Miss Elizabeth and your brother have never gotten on well.”
Eyes wide, Georgiana turned to him. “You do not get on with Miss Elizabeth?” she demanded as if she had never heard of such a thing. “Then why did you write about her?”
“I also wrote about Miss Bingley, if you recall.”
“But IknowMiss Bingley. I have never met Miss Elizabeth.”
Darcy shrugged, not wishing to confess, not wishing to acknowledge, and above all, not wanting Georgiana to learn he had any extraordinary feelings for the most bewitching womanhe had ever met. Miss Elizabeth was also determined to press her indifferent sister on Darcy’s friend in defiance of all decency—Darcy had best keep that firmly in mind.
“Then you shall have your wish, Miss Darcy,” said Bingley before Darcy could respond. “The Bennets have invited us for dinner at Longbourn tonight.”
