“I cannot say, Mr. Darcy,” said she. “It was as much of a surprise to Louisa and me as it must now be to you. Charles declared his intention to return—nothing else signifies.”
Darcy was certain that Miss Bingley was not telling him all. There was something artful about her manner, something shifty in her look that suggested there was a reason for Bingley’s sudden decision, and she knew what it was.
“You are certain you do not know the reason,” Darcy said, knowing the skepticism in his voice must be audible. “Why do you not go to Netherfield and persuade your brother against his designs yourself?”
If Darcy had thought Miss Bingley was evasive before, it was nothing compared to her current behavior. “You know that Charles does not listen to me when he gets his back up. The best chance we have is for you to persuade him.”
“And yet, your brother has disregarded my advice and returned,” said Darcy, pointing out what he thought wasobvious. That Miss Bingley was essentially correct—Bingley never listened to his sisters when he felt strongly about his opinion—he pushed to the side without further thought.
“Mr. Darcy, while we are dithering here, my brother may even now be proposing to that insipid Bennet girl. We must act now!”
“I thought you were friendly with Miss Bennet,” said Darcy.
“I do not wish to have her for a sister!” exclaimed Miss Bingley. “The thought of calling her family is insupportable. Jane Bennet is a good sort of girl, but she is all wrong for my brother. We shall never hold our heads up high in society if he makes this colossal error!”
Miss Bingley’s true feelings for Miss Bennet had not been a mystery to Darcy. For several moments, he thought to demand an explanation, for he was convinced she was not saying all. In the end, Darcy decided that it did not signify. If the woman had made some error or another and given her brother hope, or even if she had done something underhanded—he would not put it past her—did it truly affect the situation? Darcy had been—and still was—of the opinion that Miss Bennet’s esteem for Bingley, while sincere, was not the equal of his for her. It was not inherently improper or unwise to choose a woman with little dowry or connections for a wife—many men made exactly that choice, though the majority in society tended to value considerations of wealth and standing. If the woman did not possess those virtues, however, she should at least have an unshakeable regard for the man who was courting her.
“Very well, Miss Bingley,” said Darcy at length, knowing he must first dispense with her company. “You may leave it in my hands.”
Peering at him, as if suspecting him of dissembling, Miss Bingley said: “You will go to Hertfordshire.”
It was a statement, not a question. Darcy treated it as such.
“I will take such action as I deem necessary. As your brother is there and I am here, it seems there is little sense in waiting.”
That satisfied Miss Bingley. “Then I shall wait for my brother’s return. Thank you, Mr. Darcy—I know that you wish for my brother to ruin my family as little as I do myself.”
With that, Miss Bingley let herself from the room, leaving a bemused Darcy to consider the situation.
If Darcy was truthful with himself, he wondered if it was justified to pull Bingley away from his lady love. Darcy might think her indifferent, and Miss Bingley might consider her beneath them—a novel definition, considering Miss Bennet was the daughter of a gentleman while the Bingleys descended from a long line of tradesmen—but Bingley was an adult and could make his own choices. If he chose Miss Bennet despite the deficiencies of her situation, and even despite her lack of affection, what was that to Darcy or anyone else? Miss Bingley would deplore it and even had a stake in her brother’s choice of wife, but she could not forbid him.
The alternative was to wait in London and do nothing while Bingley potentially made a grave error, to listen to Miss Bingley’s moans of impending doom. Another alternative was, of course, to quit London altogether and make for Pemberley—retiring to his estate would allow him some distance from Miss Bingley, not an insubstantial consideration to be certain.
When he thought about it, however, Darcy realized that he could not just retreat and leave Bingley to his devices. Had Darcy thought Miss Bennet welcomed Bingley for any reason other than her mother’s insistence, he might have considered otherwise. As it was, the mistake that Bingley might make warranted Darcy’s interference in this matter, and he was determined to be of use to his friend. Bingley might still ignore his advice, but at least he could truthfully say that he had done his best.
With a sigh, not truly wishing to return to Hertfordshire, Darcy turned his attention to the practicalities and summoned his butler. As he had decided to go to Hertfordshire, he knew there was no point in waiting. Best to be about his business at once and give himself the best chance to persuade his friend.
“MR. BINGLEY!”
The Bennet matron’s greeting was very nearly a shriek, though the man in question did not appear to concern himself with her excitement. The grin that adorned his face was familiar to them all, for he had worn it every time he was in company the previous autumn, and more particularly when he was near Jane.
“How good of you to call on us, Mr. Bingley. It has been far too long since you visited, and you are quite a dinner in our debt as I recall. There was some talk in the village that you meant to quit Netherfield entirely. How pleased we are that the rumor has proven false.”
“No truth whatsoever,” said Mr. Bingley, keeping his genial smile fixed on his countenance. “Business took me to London after the ball. It was longer than expected, and the season had a hand in preventing my return before now, but I am here and have no intention of departing any time soon.”
Mrs. Bennet’s beatific smirk informed them all how agreeableshefound his assurances. That Jane greeted the prospect with equal enthusiasm was evident in the color staining her cheeks and the shy smile she had fixed on Mr. Bingley the moment he entered the room.
Elizabeth did her best to hide the smugness she felt at predicting Mr. Bingley’s return. A man so much in love as Mr. Bingley could never be kept from the object of his affection forever, regardless of the efforts of his sisters and his friend. But the satisfaction of being correct was nothing compared tothe happiness Elizabeth felt at seeing her sister’s melancholy disappear in favor of hope for the future.
“Tell me, Mr. Bingley,” said Mrs. Bennet after inviting him to sit, “have the rest of your party also come to Netherfield?”
The slight tightening around Mr. Bingley’s mouth informed Elizabeth of his response before he said anything. “No, Mrs. Bennet. My family and my friend remain in London.”
“Oh, that is unfortunate,” said Mrs. Bennet, as usual oblivious to any undercurrents in another’s speech. “When your excellent family joins you, I hope you will bring them around to visit us, for we should be pleased to continue our acquaintance.”
Mrs. Bennet paused in thought, then with a sour expression added: “Of course, Mr. Darcy is welcome, should he deign to return to the neighborhood.”
The sardonic smile Mr. Bingley showed surprised Elizabeth—the man appeared to have caught something of Mrs. Bennet’s disdain for Mr. Darcy and was amused by it. Elizabeth was not certain what that meant for the subject at hand, but itwasinteresting, nonetheless.
