Page 51 of Bitterness of Spirit & The Painting

He pretended to himself that he only wished to speak to her to clarify previous misunderstandings, to prove to her that he had taken her reproaches to heart and made amends to his past errors. But there was much more that he was willing to admit. His desires were enhanced by new hopes aroused by a twist of fate. In only one day, the image of a future without Elizabeth had faded and a glimmer of light brightened the dark aspect that had trapped him since that day at the Parsonage.

The silence was suddenly broken by hurried steps and a joyful voice greeting the servants. The door opened suddenly, and Bingley entered like a fresh breeze, bringing a welcome smile to Darcy’s face.

“Darcy! I am so happy you are home! I was afraid you had already left for Pemberley! How are you? I have not seen you in ages! Are you alone? Am I disturbing you?”

Darcy responded with less excitement but equal pleasure as they shook hands warmly.

“Bingley—welcome! You have been missed. Surely you must know that you never disturb me.”

“Thank you—I missed your company! I returned to Town last evening, and I intended to call on you immediately, but I confess I fell asleep.”

“Today is a better time to talk peacefully,” Darcy replied earnestly. Bingley’s presence last night would have completely ruined Wilson’s visit.

Bingley took a seat, and Darcy offered him a drink.

“Georgiana is at Pemberley?”

“Yes, with Mrs Annesley. I plan to join her sometime soon.”

“I see. I hope not too soon as I would like to spend some time with you. Will you still have us at Pemberley for the summer?”

“Of course. And no, I shall not leave too soon. I still have some unfinished business, so it will be a while.”

“Good…good…so, how have you been?”

“Fine. As usual. And you, Bingley? What did you do all these months? Did you have any novel experiences?

“No, nothing special. Hunting, parties, some balls…rather boring.”

“Really? I do not recollect your describing parties and balls as being boring.”

“Yes, well…my preferences have changed lately.”

“And how was your company?”

“Pleasant enough. Quite large in number and diversity. Sometimes tiresome. You would not have remained more than a couple of days,” Bingley mocked him.

Darcy smiled. “Probably—which is why nobody invites me to visit for more than a week.”

“Oh, come now, Darcy! That is unfair. Half of them do not invite you because your estate is more beautiful than theirs, and the other half because they know you would refuse them anyway. And also because you rarely invite anyone outside the family to Pemberley.”

“You may be right,” Darcy admitted resignedly, which only made Bingley laugh.

Despite his light disposition, Bingley’s countenance was not as serene as usual. Darcy did not miss the change and could only suspect the reason. The ball, the parties, and the company of others were not enough for Bingley to forget his personal disappointment, and his amiable manner could not cover it.

They spent half an hour in friendly conversation of little importance. Eventually, after amusing stories and plans for the summer, Darcy finally gathered his courage.

“Bingley, there is another reason I am glad you have now returned. There is someone in London I am sure you will be pleased to see again.”

Darcy’s expression was little composed, and Bingley paled immediately.

“Who?”

“Miss Bennet. And Miss Elizabeth.”

The surprising news changed Bingley’s expression, and he first gazed at Darcy incredulously.

Then the words tumbled out at once. “They are in Town? Where are they staying? With their aunt near Cheapside, I imagine. How do you know?” He rose and paced the room then stopped in front of Darcy.