The conveyance came to a sudden halt. Darcy stepped down onto the gravel and handed his gloves and greatcoat to the waiting footman just as Charles Bingley bounded down the steps, arms wide in greeting.
“Darcy! At last!”
Before Darcy could reply, Bingley had clapped him on the shoulder with affectionate force, nearly dislodging the dust from his lapels. “You are just in time! The weather has turned fine, the cellars are better stocked than I feared, and I have already met half the principal families in the neighborhood—or at least the fathers.”
“Then I am certain you are now a prized commodity,” Darcy said dryly.
Bingley laughed. “Come and be welcomed—Louisa! Caroline!”
Two women descended more slowly in his wake. Mrs. Hurst, plump and passive, gave a graceful curtsy and a practiced smile. Beside her, Miss Caroline Bingley stepped forward with the confidence of a woman certain of her reception.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said, her voice honeyed. “What a pleasure. We were just admiring the house—it has a…rustic charm.”
Her eyes slid toward the limestone cornices with the faintest of sneers.
Darcy bowed. “Miss Bingley. Mrs. Hurst.”
Mrs. Hurst murmured something agreeable. Miss Bingley continued, “It is hardly Pemberley, of course—but I suppose we must make do.”
“It is a fine house,” Darcy said. “And Bingley has improved it already by taking possession.”
“Oh, quite,” Caroline agreed, eyes alight. “Though I suspect it shall take the entire autumn to correct the furnishings. And I have already written to London for drapery swatches. The drawing room curtains are a crime.”
Bingley grinned. “She has been cataloging upholstery sins since we arrived. Come in—come in, you must be tired.”
Inside, the hall was clean and airy, if not especially elegant. Footmen hurried to and fro, and Mrs. Nicholls, the housekeeper, greeted Darcy with a respectful curtsy before turning to oversee the unloading of his trunks.
Miss Bingley, however, was quick to intercede.
“I have taken the liberty of placing you in the family wing, Mr. Darcy,” she said, her hand brushing lightly against his coat sleeve as she led the way up the stairs. “Much quieter, andwith a view toward the south lawns. I know how you detest unnecessary noise.”
Darcy murmured his thanks, though he doubted she had made the arrangement with his preferences in mind.More likely she wishes to force an intimacy that does not exist.
The room was, indeed, pleasant. Well-appointed, with high ceilings and new wallpaper. She lingered long enough to comment on the marble-topped washstand and the “good light for reading,” before finally withdrawing with a demure smile that lingered a touch too long.
Darcy shut the door with a quiet exhale.I shall need to have Bates sleep in my room with me whilst I am here.He groaned slightly at the memory of doing so at the last house party he attended—his valet’s snoring meant he had little sleep through the duration of his visit.
Half an hour later and feeling much refreshed, Darcy joined the others in the drawing room.
“I must say,” Bingley was declaring cheerfully, “the people here are capital company. The Gouldings are to dine next week, and I met the vicar just this morning—a very pleasant man. He mentioned his nieces, I think. And there is to be an assembly tomorrow at the town hall.”
Miss Bingley, lounging on the settee, wrinkled her nose. “An assembly?”
“Yes, a public one. I told Sir William I would attend—on behalf of the entire party, you know.”
“Charles,” she said with affected patience, “surely you do not meanusto attend as well?”
“I thought it would be a kindness to the locals.”
“A kindness?” She turned toward Darcy, eyes gleaming. “Mr. Darcy, surely you are far too tired from travel to be dragged out to such an affair. And a man of your station—why, to be jostled about by country solicitors and tradesmen! It would bebeneath your notice entirely. I shall remain back and keep you company, of course. A good hostess must make sacrifices.”
Darcy sat straighter in his chair.
“It would not have been my first choice,” he admitted slowly. “But it is important, I think, for a new tenant to establish goodwill with his neighbors.”
Bingley nodded emphatically.
“And to be seen breaking a promise, however lightly given,” Darcy continued, “would be a poor beginning. I am sure no one would think less of you, Miss Bingley, should you wish to remain behind. But Mr. Bingley must go.”
