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Darcy stepped closer. “Badly?”

“She slipped on some ice and is requesti ng—I think we may safely substitute demanding—that I come to take her home.” His features pinched. “Gracechurch Street. She was calling on Miss Bennet.”

Bingley held out the note, and Darcy took it.

Bingley—

Caroline has had a fall on the ice outside the home of Miss Bennet’s relations in Gracechurch Street. The footman brought word to us, but Louisa refuses to assist her sister. She says that she warned Caroline not to travel to that part of town and that this is the consequence. I have pointed out that a warning does not generally negate family obligations, but Louisa refuses to forgo the festive season’s social engagements because her sister would not heed her advice. Her maid will not go either. She gave notice rather than be sent to Cheapside and was not shy about her reasons. The disdain Caroline and my wife have shown for the place made her unwilling to risk her own consequence by venturing there; I daresay Caroline has not been so good a mistress as to make the girl feel duty-bound.

Caroline requests a carriage to bring her home. Ours shall be in use tonight, and my wife will not give it up.

You had better see to it.

Hurst

Bingley was already ringing the bell for his man and asking for his coat. “You must accompany me, Darcy.”

“Certainly, if I may be of assistance. My carriage is outside, we can take it.”

“You misunderstand me, Darcy. I do need the carriage for Caroline, but I am asking you to accompany me because Miss Bennet is there.”

Darcy stared at him. “Your sister has been injured.”

“And I am going directly to her. My honest concern does not render the circumstances any less remarkable.” Their coats and hats arrived. “Only moments ago, I required a respectable excuse to call in Gracechurch Street, and Caroline has now provided the perfect one.”

“I doubt she intended to be of service in such a way.”

Bingley’s smile was almost wicked. “No, but once she has recovered, she will be excessively pleased to learn that she was the means of reuniting Miss Bennet and me.”

Darcy chuckled. “Pleased is not the word I would use.”

“Well,” Bingley said, “we need not tell her until she is feeling improved.” He paused before adding, “Caroline may well have spent the last several hours telling Miss Bennet that I do not wish to see her. Or that I am promised to Miss Darcy, as she would like me to be. I want Miss Bennet to see that my friend—my friend, and the brother of the lady in question—has come with me to reassure her that such is not the case.”

“I have said I will assist you, and I meant it.” He hesitated. “I do support your right to judge your own feelings, Bingley, and those of Miss Bennet.”

Bingley shook his head. “Quite benevolent of you, Darcy, really. You have my thanks.”

They went downstairs together and entered Darcy’s carriage, Bingley giving the Gardiners’ direction without glancing at the paper a second time. For the first part of the journey, neither spoke.

“Tell me, Darcy,” Bingley said at last, tipping up his chin and giving Darcy an assessing look. “How many times did you consider what you wished to say to me today?”

Darcy turned his face to the side-glass.

“As I thought. Let me ask one more question, and I shall have done. When you told me you apologised, how did that taste?” He sat back against the squabs.

Bingley really was a forgiving sort of man. A good thing too.

“Shut it, Bingley.”

His friend laughed aloud at that, and the coach trundled on.

When they turned onto the street where the Bennets’ uncle lived, Bingley leaned forward to read the numbers. When at last they stopped, he was out of the carriage before the footman had finished lowering the step.

Darcy stepped down to the pavement at a more sedate pace.

This was not a shop with rooms above. The house before him was substantial and well maintained. Its stone steps were swept clean despite the inclement weather, and the scroll-work on the iron railings displayed skilled artisan work. There were stone flower boxes flanking the steps that would no doubt be planted in the spring. There was nothing vulgar or disorderly about it, and Darcy had not realised until that moment that he had expected both.

The door was opened by a maid who did not appear overawed by either Darcy’s carriage or Bingley’s agitation.