Page 5

At the ball, Sir William Lucas had all but announced the neighbourhood was expecting an announcement from Bingley. Rather premature, as Bingley had not even been courting Miss Bennet. She was a lovely woman, rather quiet for Darcy’s taste, but certainly unobjectionable in her person.

He had observed Miss Bennet closely the rest of the evening and saw that she treated Bingley with the same mild pleasure she offered everyone. She was obviously not in love with his friend, and that being the case, he would not give over the hope that when both Bingley and Georgiana were a little older, they would make a match themselves.

It would solve two problems at once, a marriage between his friend and his sister. Bingley would have a wife who did not marry him for his money, and his sister would have a husband who would be guided by Darcy, should the need ever arise. Bingley generally required guidance, Georgiana naturally trusted her brother, and Darcy could therefore ensure the happiness of both.

They were both rather young to marry, in any case.

The plan possessed only one defect, a small one, in Darcy’s mind: Neither of the people whose happiness he meant to secure had expressed the least interest in it. But he hoped that would change in time.

It was this that had brought him to the Hursts’ home, where he was currently listening to Miss Bingley inform her brother that she had no intention of returning to Netherfield.

“Mrs. Bennet means to force you into matrimony, very likely before Christmas, and poor Jane has no say in the matter,” Miss Bingley said. “Surely you do not wish to marry a woman who likes you well enough but does not love you, Charles.”

“How would you know how she feels, Caro?” Bingley asked.

Darcy’s friend had not been easily moved on this subject. It had surprised him a bit, to own the truth. Bingley might not have been courting Miss Bennet, but it seemed that Miss Bingley had closed the house up just in time, for he had clearly meant to deepen the connexion upon his return.

“Charles,” Miss Bingley said with some exasperation. “Miss Bennet and I were quite friendly, you know. She told me things she would never say to you. And she told me that her mother was pushing the match.”

This brought Bingley up short. “She said that?”

“Yes.”

Darcy had not thought Miss Bennet so direct, but perhaps she had seen the opportunity for her friend to put Bingley on his guard. If so, it spoke rather well of her. Miss Elizabeth had been embarrassed when Sir William spoke of Bingley and Miss Bennet’s attachment as a certainty, and they were very close—if one sister displayed that sort of finer feeling, then the other was likely to do so. The two of them were nothing like the rest of their family, and he felt for them both. Truthfully, he might even have been in some danger had Miss Elizabeth been born higher and with a fortune similar to Miss Bingley’s.

But Miss Elizabeth Bennet had only herself to recommend her, and while that had been enough to forget himself at a ball, it was not enough to forget himself entirely. A Darcy never did.

“Darcy?” Bingley asked. “What do you think? I told Miss Bennet I would be returning to Netherfield within a few days. She will be expecting me back by now.”

“Did not your sister already write to Miss Bennet to bid her farewell?” Darcy asked. He knew she had, for he had seen her hand the note to a footman before climbing into the carriage.

“I did,” Miss Bingley confirmed. “Charles, she knows we have closed the house.”

“And that is another thing, Caroline. Why did you close the house? I did not ask you to do any such thing.”

“Mr. Darcy said that it would be better were you away from Hertfordshire,” she told her brother. “I merely acted upon it.”

Bingley turned to him. “Is that true, Darcy?”

Darcy had said that. But it had not been said to convince Miss Bingley to close the house, it had simply been him thinking aloud. Unfortunately, he could understand how his words would have been interpreted. “I did say that,” he admitted.

“We were sure,” Mrs. Hurst said, joining the conversation at last, “that you would not wish to raise expectations Miss Bennet did not want you to fulfil.”

“You will forgive me,” Bingley said, “if I would rather hear as much from Jane.”

Miss Bingley winced at Bingley’s use of Miss Bennet’s Christian name. Mrs. Hurst cast her eyes up towards the ceiling, perhaps in some sort of appeal to a higher authority. Darcy, being the highest authority presently available, decided that he must address the matter.

“Miss Bennet,” Darcy said, emphasizing the proper address, “will not feel free to refuse an offer, Bingley, with her father’s estate entailed away and the daughters without anything in the way of fortune. She will say yes because she knows you will support her mother and any unmarried sisters should anything happen to Mr. Bennet, and she rightfully feels a duty to them. Even if she loved you, I would ask that you consider the necessary evils of such a match for a man who is attempting to gain acceptance in the ton. Without love, I would advise against it entirely.”

It was fortunate that no one present could see the swift, disloyal picture his imagination conjured just then—Miss Elizabeth at Pemberley, laughing at some solemn pronouncement of his and improving his life by refusing to be impressed with it or him.

Darcy dismissed the thought. He had made her no promises and had danced with her only once. Miss Elizabeth would not expect anything of him.

“Do you see, Charles?” Miss Bingley asked. “You do trust Mr. Darcy’s opinion, do you not?”

“Of course I trust Darcy,” Bingley said. “That is not the issue. The issue is that I made a promise to return.”

“Charles,” Mrs. Hurst said with a sigh. “Caroline wrote to take our leave. That is all that is required. This picture you have of Miss Bennet sitting by the window awaiting your return is simply romantic nonsense. She was likely relieved to know that we had all removed ourselves. If you open the house again, you will only cause her pain.”