Consequences (39 page)

Bingley was silent for several minutes, thinking on this latest intelligence. At length, he said slowly, “It is hard to contemplate all this and make sense of it. Firstly, do not talk rubbish about leaving. It appears that you overreached out of concern for my welfare, but it was done without malice.”

“But I have hurt not only you but Miss Bennet due to my interference. I do not know whether I can ever forgive myself, though I do appreciate your generous words.”

Bingley made a dismissive gesture before continuing. “I am not certain what my feelings are about Miss Bennet. I have not seen her in, what, almost five months? But I will tell you truly, Darcy: I would rather never see her again than to see her and have her indifference confirmed! I do not believe I could stand the pain again.”

“And now the person who is trying to convince you she does feel an attraction to you is the same person who was so certain previously of her indifference! This is a fine dilemma, but I can only see one way to resolve it.”

“And what is that?” said Bingley fretfully.

“I beg you, Charles, to take a chance and trust me just once more,” said Darcy quietly.

Both men stood looking at each other, each wrapped in his thoughts. Darcy mightily desired to continue to urge Bingley, but he managed to restrain himself. Having interfered so disastrously the previous November, he now believed this decision had to be made by Charles and by Charles alone.

Finally, Bingley reached down and picked up his glass of port. Raising it to his lips, he drank deeply. When he lowered his glass, he looked at Darcy with an indecipherable expression on his face.

“Very well,” he said.

After a few moments, Darcy could no longer stand the suspense. “Very well what, Charles?”

“Very well, let us go to Longbourn.”

Darcy immediately stepped over to Bingley and seized his hand. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I shall always remember you trusted me in this.”

“Never mind that,” said Bingley, stepping over and pulling the cord for a servant. “I must see to my carriage. Your horses are tired from the journey.

***

Part of Bingley’s courage deserted him by the time his carriage arrived at Longbourn, but Georgiana put her arm through his to encourage him after they descended.

“Come, Mr. Bingley, you must let my brother complete his penance. If you get back in your coach, how can that ever be accomplished?”

Bingley looked down at her, and his eyes widened. He had never heard anything remotely like teasing from Georgiana Darcy in all their acquaintance.

“How . . . how did . . .”

“She has been spending too much time with my future wife, Charles,” said Darcy, taking Bingley’s other elbow and ushering him to the front door of Longbourn. “I shall have a word with Elizabeth about how saucy Georgiana is becoming.”

“Uh, yes, I see . . . I think,” Bingley said faintly. Georgiana only smiled at him as Darcy used the knocker on the door.

However, when they were shown into the parlour where Elizabeth sat with her mother, Bingley was devastated to find Jane Bennet absent. Darcy immediately felt Bingley’s reluctance to continue into the room, but with him on one side and Georgiana on the other, Bingley could not find a way to make a graceful exit.

After Darcy made his greetings and introduced his sister to Mrs. Bennet, he took care to sit Bingley next to Mrs. Bennet with Georgiana on his other side. Mrs. Bennet, for her part, lost no time in engaging his friend in a one-sided conversation, opening by saying how much they missed having him for a family dinner and apologizing for Jane not being able to join them because of her indisposition.

Upon hearing this, Darcy waited for several minutes, then rose and moved toward the door. Elizabeth watched him in confusion, and her eyes widened when he motioned toward the door with his head, indicating his desire to have a private word with her.

Elizabeth silently joined him, her absence hardly noticed by her mother, who continued to chatter away to her captive audience, and her expression was quizzical as she asked, “What is the matter, William? Mr. Bingley looks greatly distressed.”

“He is, Elizabeth, but I need to know—is your sister truly indisposed?”

Elizabeth looked down quickly, and Darcy immediately realized she did not want to answer him.

“I thought so. Would you please go to her and insist she come down? We have had no time to speak on this, but we both know there are unresolved matters regarding your sister and Bingley, matters that still lie between the two of us. We will talk when we can, but please, you must convince her to come down. I can see Bingley wants to leave because he fears she is indifferent to him.” Elizabeth looked at him in surprise, and Darcy nodded. “I see you understand my meaning. Please hurry, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth nodded and hastened out, while Darcy returned to sit across from his friend. Mrs. Bennet was having no trouble maintaining her side of the conversation, but Darcy could see Bingley’s increasing desperation as the minutes ticked by. At last, just when Darcy believed he was going to have to displace his sister and physically restrain his friend, the door opened, and Elizabeth ushered a visibly uneasy Jane Bennet into the room.

Bingley’s demeanour changed instantly, and he sprang unconsciously to his feet, unable to believe he had forgotten how beautiful she was. Georgiana had to urge him forward, however, before he remembered his manners, and his normally amiable countenance was notably absent at the moment.

“Miss Bennet, it . . . it . . . it is good . . . to . . . to see you again,” he stammered, fortunate at being able to manage any greeting at all. His face was flushed bright red at the desertion of his usual effortless ability to converse, and Jane smiled a little at his nervousness because she was so very anxious herself.

While all eyes, especially those of Mrs. Bennet, were focused on Bingley greeting Jane, Darcy nonchalantly moved two chairs into the corner of the room in the course of standing up himself. Now, with Bingley’s normal loquaciousness deserting him, Darcy found a measure of it himself.

“Miss Bennet, it is most pleasant to see you again, but please—you are looking somewhat faint. Your mother mentioned you were indisposed, and it is extraordinarily kind of you to come downstairs to greet us when you are feeling unwell. Please, come here and be seated . . . no, over here in the corner, I insist; we will continue our conversation while you rest. Charles, please sit here and assist her. I am sure Mrs. Bennet will want to summon some tea and cakes. Very good, now, just take your ease, Miss Bennet. Mr. Bingley will provide any succour you need.”

Leaving them and crossing the room, Darcy put his request to Mrs. Bennet, who looked somewhat dubious but rang for a servant. She was not sure what was going on, but seeing Mr. Bingley sitting by her Jane was not a situation to be altered.

Darcy could not repress a sigh as he took a seat by Elizabeth while Mrs. Bennet turned to talking with Georgiana. Darcy described Elizabeth’s mother during the journey from London, and Georgiana expressed confidence in her ability to maintain a conversation by simply asking occasional questions about one of her daughters or about the plans for the wedding. It could not be nearly as frightening as dealing with her Aunt Catherine!

Elizabeth looked at him as he collapsed into the chair, leaning toward him and arching one perfect eyebrow. “Matchmaking, Mr. Darcy?” she asked drolly, but the smile on her face as she looked over at her sister, listening closely to a recovered Mr. Bingley, showed contentment rather than sarcasm.

“Simply conducting an experiment, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy replied blandly.

“And what, pray tell, is this experiment supposed to prove?”

“I am testing whether my ability to estimate character is as sublime as I once thought it to be,” Darcy replied seriously. “I am no longer as confident of my ability as I once believed.”

Elizabeth’s expression was also serious as she laid her hand on his arm. “Nor am I, sir,” she said gently, remembering all her own mistakes regarding this man she would marry. “Nor am I.”

***

It was some thirty minutes later that Darcy’s tête-à-tête with Elizabeth was interrupted. She was telling him of the many neighbours her mother took her to visit since arriving from London, intent on displaying her newly engaged daughter, and Darcy was enjoying himself by simply listening to her tales. Her three other sisters sat with them, having come downstairs to take tea, and the level of noise, especially from the two younger sisters, was noticeably higher.

Darcy was jarred out of his reverie by his sister’s worried voice. “William, where has Mr. Bingley gone? He appears to have left Miss Bennet all alone.”

He and Elizabeth both looked over at the corner, and just as Georgiana had intimated, Bingley was indeed gone, and Miss Bennet was sitting calmly by herself. Darcy’s first thought was that Bingley’s nerve had failed him, and he started to rise to investigate whether Bingley’s carriage was still behind the house. But Elizabeth’s hand on his arm restrained him.

“Look at Jane,” she said simply.

Darcy did look, and Miss Bennet certainly did not have the air of a young lady abandoned by a man who lost his nerve. She looked more or less as serene as always, but her colour heightened when Georgiana spoke. Now, realizing that she was the focus of everyone in the room, she blushed even deeper.

Elizabeth and Darcy looked at each other. “You do not suppose . . .” Darcy started, his eyebrows lifted.

“It would be a record of sorts . . .” Elizabeth nodded in agreement, her eyes dancing with laughter.

“Bingley does have a tendency toward the impetuous.”

“And Jane does have a predilection for maintaining her serenity.”

Jane’s cheeks grew even redder as she heard their comments. Her mother, however, was highly suspicious, as she once again felt events were occurring beyond her ken.

Just as Darcy and Elizabeth had nearly decided to confront Jane and demand answers to their questions, the door opened, and Mr. Bennet, accompanied by a beaming Bingley, entered the room. Elizabeth’s heart surged with joy as she realized what was about to take place.

Mr. Bennet’s clearing of his throat stilled all conversation, demanding their attention.

“Mrs. Bennet!” he called across the room.

“Yes, Mr. Bennet?” she replied anxiously.

“It seems that you shall have to plan another wedding for another of your daughters, Mrs. Bennet, for this young man has just accosted me in my library and requested the hand of your eldest! I, of course, thought deeply on this subject, and, after about a half-second, gave him my consent!”

As the wondrous vistas of having two daughters well-married swept through her mind, Mrs. Bennet collapsed back into her chair.

“Hill! Hill!” she called shrilly. “My smelling salts, Hill! Two daughters married! I shall go distracted!”

Mr. Bennet only shook his head in resignation at this further display of his wife’s
nerves.

“Mrs. Bennet!” he called out sharply.

“Yes, Mr. Bennet,” his wife responded weakly.

“If any young men call for any of my remaining daughters, please be so kind as to entertain them for a half-hour before showing them in. I shall require at least a glass of port to regain my equanimity!”

Elizabeth had to hide a smile at this comment, which was so very like her father, and she heard Darcy suppress a chuckle of his own. In another minute, as Hill bustled into the room at the behest of her mistress, Darcy leaned over to Elizabeth.

“Perhaps the best wedding gift we could give your sister would be to suggest we have both weddings at the same time. That should shorten the period of anxiety for both your sister and my friend.”

Elizabeth looked up at Darcy with a twinkle in her eye. “Perhaps we should. In fact, it sounds better every moment. That just may be one of your best suggestions to date, William.”

“I may be able to think of a few more in about four weeks, Elizabeth,” he murmured.

She eyed him carefully and finally bestowed a smile on him as she softly replied, “If they are of comparable stature to this one, sir, then I shall look forward to hearing of them with considerable interest indeed.”

Chapter 24

“Justice is the crowning glory of the virtues.”

—Marcus Tullius Cicero,
Ancient Roman lawyer, writer,
scholar, orator and statesman

Friday, May 15, 1812

And here, Mr. Bingley, if you will place your signature where I have indicated, we will have completed all the requirements,” intoned Frederick M. Smith-Jones. The stately old gentleman, who had been his family’s solicitor all of Darcy’s life. placed the final document in front of Charles Bingley, who immediately dashed off the illegible scrawl he continued to attest was his signature.

The fact that Frederick M. Smith-Jones did not agree with Bingley’s opinion would not have been visible to anyone who had not known and dealt with him for years, and Darcy hid his smile as the old solicitor sanded and blotted the document. Then, folding the papers carefully, he placed them in an oilskin pouch and fastidiously made sure all the fastenings were in place.