His Good Opinion: A Mr. Darcy Novel (16 page)

The sisters were silent for a minute, and then Mrs. Hurst spoke again. "If only there was someone... someone who could persuade him of the folly of the match."

"Yes, but who would he listen to? No, Louisa. I am afraid we must resign ourselves to Mrs. Phillips as an aunt."

Darcy finished his coffee and rose from his seat. "I hope you will excuse me, ladies, I have some things I need to attend to this morning." He bowed and left the room without another word.

He knew very well what Bingley's sisters desired, and though it fell in line nicely with his own plans, he did not like the way they had attempted to manipulate him.
I will get Bingley out of this, but let them first wonder for a while. It would do them some good.

He called Vincent as soon as he arrived in his room. "Yes, Mr. Darcy?" the valet asked.

"Vincent, we return to London on the morrow. See to it that my things are packed."

"Yes, Mr. Darcy."

Out of a desire to teach the sisters a lesson, Darcy purposely avoided them both until dinner. As a result, Miss Bingley fairly pounced on him when he entered the dining room that night. "Mr. Darcy, I must ask: what do you think of my brother's affection for Miss Bennet?"

Darcy took his seat before answering. "I do not like it," he said, and both sisters let out a breath. "However, as Bingley is an adult, I am not sure we can keep him from acting as he sees fit."

Mrs. Hurst drooped slightly in her seat, but Miss Bingley straightened and leveled a steady gaze at him. "Mr. Darcy, I am sure of my brother's faith in your opinion. Were you to tell him you did not believe Miss Bennet to be a worthy match for him, I do not doubt he would see reason."

Darcy thought for a moment of how he would respond, were someone to confront him with the utter lack of sense in his attachment to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and his own confidence was shaken.
Are we right to separate them?

"Of course," Miss Bingley added, sharing a long look with her sister, "if we were persuaded she truly cared for Charles we might feel differently. But is it not clear that the dear girl is being imposed on by her mother to make an advantageous connection?"

"Perhaps a more subtle play is required," Darcy suggested, his momentary hesitation forgotten. "Why do we not simply return to London ourselves, rather than remaining here to argue with him on his return?"

Miss Bingley smiled up at him. "You are far too kind, Mr. Darcy, and far too good a friend to our brother."

"What do you mean, Miss Bingley?"

Her smile widened and her eyes narrowed to cat-like slits. "Why, I do not believe many men would give up the attentions of their lady in order to help a friend."

Darcy stiffened. "I am sure I do not take your meaning."

Miss Bingley ignored the warning in his voice. "Oh, that is right--Miss Bennet is no longer
your
lady, is she? You passed that pleasure on to her cousin. My, but Mr. Collins was attentive to her last night! I half expected him to propose in the middle of the ballroom."

Darcy pressed his lips into a thin line. "I beg you ladies will excuse me; I must see to the details of our departure." Their mouths were agape, and it was no wonder. They had barely finished the first course of the meal. However, Darcy had little appetite remaining, and no desire to remain in the company of the ladies.

In the relative privacy of the hallway, Darcy loosened the knot of his cravat. It was one thing to accept Elizabeth would not be his wife, but quite another to realize she might marry someone else--and that odious Mr. Collins, Lady Catherine's parson! Was Elizabeth to be brought so low?

A second thought followed quickly, more unpleasant than the last. Were she to marry Mr. Collins, Darcy would see her every year on his annual visits to Rosings. "Would to God we had never come here," he muttered and took the stairs two at a time.

The troublesome thought still occupied his mind the next day as they returned to London, and his quiet brooding did not go unnoticed by Miss Bingley. "Mr. Darcy, you have hardly spoken a word to us since dinner yesterday evening! I declare, Louisa and I did not know what to think when you quit the room so suddenly."

"I explained the necessity of my actions at the time; if we wished to depart this morning, there were things that needed to be done. I believe we can all agree that time is of the essence in this particular case."

The sisters looked at each other. "Yes, of course," Mrs. Hurst agreed. "We did wonder, Mr. Darcy--that is, Caroline believes--"

Miss Bingley sighed and tossed her head. "What my sister is trying to say, Mr. Darcy, is that we have decided it would be best if I were the one to speak to Charles."

Darcy frowned. "I understood my presence was necessary to convince him."

"Oh, and it is," she assured him with a pretty smile. "Your presence will only add weight to my words. However, this will mean more to him coming from a beloved sister, one who will be materially damaged by a reckless marriage on his part."

There was a certain amount of truth to that statement, so Darcy nodded his head in acquiescence. They had not been in London for an hour when he learned to regret his uncharacteristic complaisance.

"But Charles, surely you understand..."

Darcy winced; the whine in Miss Bingley's voice hurt his ears as much as Bingley's far more strident tones.

"I do not, Caroline, and I grow weary of this conversation!"

Darcy saw the mulish light in his friend's eye and knew it was time to step in, before the sisters completely ruined their chances of prising Bingley from Hertfordshire and Miss Bennet. "Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, might I have a word with your brother in private?"

Miss Bingley flushed almost imperceptibly, but she did not argue. After the two sisters had left, Darcy turned to the sidebar and poured two glasses of the scotch whiskey Bingley kept there. He handed one to his friend, an apologetic smile on his face. "I am afraid your sister has very decided notions about things, Bingley."

Bingley shook his head. "You need not apologize to me for my own sister, Darcy." He tossed back the drink and poured another. "I should apologize to you for exposing you to her vulgar obsession with money and connections."

He sat down heavily in a chair by the fire, and Darcy regarded him carefully.
How shall I proceed?
At last he said, "I am sure she only thinks of your happiness."

Bingley sighed. "If I could believe that, I might consider her words. However..."

His dark frown told Darcy their plan was in danger of collapsing around him. "Can you not see how her warnings proceed from affection?" Darcy said, determined that he should not fail. He leaned forward in his chair, an earnest expression on his face. "An unequal marriage lends itself toward great unhappiness."

Bingley rubbed at the crease in his forehead. "I fail to see how marriage to Jane Bennet would be unequal."

Darcy took a breath; he stood on shaky ground. "Forgive my impertinence, Bingley, but have you forgotten your family was recently in trade?" His friend recoiled, so he hastened to add, "I assure you, that does not signify with most of our set. However, that is in part because your father married a gentleman's daughter."

"Jane is --"

Darcy held up his hand. "Yes, but what was her mother? What of
her
father,
her
sister and brother?" Bingley looked away and Darcy pressed his advantage. "Your wife will have a great hand in shaping the future of your family, for good or for evil. Could you be happy if your marriage made your sister's social position precarious? Do you not wish for a good match for her?"

Bingley laughed. "Caroline will make her own match, with little help or hindrance from me." He looked over at Darcy. "I must warn you, Darcy, I suspect she has her mind set on marrying you."

"You need not tell
me
that," Darcy said. He took the seat across from Bingley. If his pleas were to work, he must appear the concerned friend, rather than one who dictated his own wishes and expected others to follow. "But you know I wish for marriage with true affection, such as my parents shared."

Bingley smiled. "And that is why I will marry Jane."

Darcy tapped the side of his glass and then looked up at Bingley. "You love her, of that I am certain. But what of her feelings for you? Has she told you she loves you?"

Bingley flushed and looked down at his half-full glass. "Of course not. Jane--Miss Bennet--is a lady, and ladies do not..."

"I am sure she is everything that is proper," Darcy reassured him. "However, you have told her of your regard, have you not?"

"I have told her I admire her greatly."

"And she did not then answer in a way to give you no doubt of her feelings?"

Bingley crossed his arms in defiance and nearly spilled whiskey on himself in the process. "To what do these questions attend, Darcy?"

Darcy thought he saw a hint of uncertainty in Bingley's eyes, and he pressed his advantage. "I observed Miss Bennet the other night, and though she received your attentions with perfect serenity, I could discern no particular regard on her part."

Bingley paled, and Darcy felt a moment of pity for his friend. "You do not believe she cares for me--at all?"

Darcy hesitated, honesty warring with a desire to keep Bingley from Hertfordshire. "That she esteems you is evident," he finally said. "However, she is universally pleased by all she meets, and I am convinced it would be difficult to recognize symptoms of peculiar regard in her."

"I see." Bingley walked to the window and stared into the night.

Darcy looked at his friend's back for a moment and said, "You see why you should remain in town..."

"You may settle your concerns on that account," Bingley said, his voice tired. "I find I have suddenly lost all desire to return to Hertfordshire."

"It is for the best, Bingley," Darcy said.

"It will be difficult to convince me of that. Now, if you will excuse me, Darcy, I am rather weary."

Darcy blinked. Bingley had never dismissed him before.
Though perhaps under the circumstances it is understandable.
"Very well. Good night, Bingley."

Darcy House was too well run for the unexpected arrival of the master to throw the household into an uproar. "Welcome home, Mr. Darcy," the butler said placidly when Darcy entered the house that evening, long after the supper hour had passed.

"Thank you, Remington. I trust all is well?"

"Of course, sir."

A familiar figure strode around the corner as a footman took Darcy's cloak. "Well hello, William," Richard said. He looked Darcy up and down. "Have you been traveling all day? Come, join me for a brandy."

Darcy followed him down the hallway to his own library. He watched with amusement as Richard poured two drinks and then sat down, his legs stretched out in front of them. "I must say, Cousin, you certainly seem to be treating my home as your own."

"And I must say, Cousin," Richard shot back, "that your manner of arriving late in the evening and unannounced is far more like my style than your own. What brings you from Hertfordshire in such a rush?"

Darcy sipped his brandy and considered his answer. It was not his place to tell anyone of Bingley's most recent
affaire de coeur
, so he finally settled for a half-truth. "The country was just as tedious as I expected. When Bingley returned to town, I seized the opportunity to follow."

Richard rolled his eyes. "You are always so determined not to give your good opinion, it is a wonder anyone or anything meets with your approval."

The jest was a familiar one between the cousins, but tonight Darcy did not laugh. The words too closely mirrored those of another--"your good opinion, once lost, is lost forever." Elizabeth's face flashed before him, and he took another long drink of the brandy to hide his jumbled emotions.

Richard leaned forward. "It is good that you have come, though," he said. "I received word this evening that my presence is required in France for a short time."

Darcy had long ago learned not to question Richard's frequent trips across the Channel. Though his cousin was an army officer, he strongly suspected his primary role in the military was of a more clandestine nature. "When do you leave?"

Richard swirled the brandy around in his glass and did not look at Darcy when he answered. "My ship leaves Portsmouth on Monday. I had a letter ready to send you by express in the morning."

Darcy set his glass down and steepled his hands in front of him.
This is even shorter notice than usual.
"I am glad I have returned, though Georgie will be sad to see you go. Have you any idea how long you will be gone?"

Richard shrugged. "I cannot say for sure, but I believe I will be home in time to join you at Rosings in the spring."

"I should certainly hope so. Our aunt would never forgive you otherwise."

Richard's shoulders relaxed, and Darcy knew he had said the right thing. "I do not believe that for a second. As long as you are present, she does not care who else is there."