Mrs Annesley and Georgiana had elected to rest for a while once they had freshened up, and the Colonel took it upon himself to visit the stables, having been concerned over his mount during the ride. Thus it was that Darcy alone returned to join Bingley, who was lounging in a leather armchair in the drawing room with a newspaper.
“Well, Darcy,” he greeted him as his friend closed the door and walked across the room. “Your note was brief and to the point, but I trust you are going to enlighten me as to your present unrest!”
Darcy frowned as he took a seat. “Unrest?”
“Indeed! First of all, you make a sudden and unexplained journey out of Town on the very morning I am to depart; then I receive word from you that you are in Bath, and within days of that intelligence, you travel to Hertfordshire!” Bingley shook his head and chuckled. “Not that I am anything but delighted, old boy, to have you here, but the precipitance and unpredictability of your actions is more redolent of myself than the Darcy I have long been acquainted with!”
Bingley peered at him intently; then, he frowned. “There is something… altered about you.”
Darcy stirred in his seat; he knew full well that it was his duty to speak to Mr Bennet before anyone else became aware of his and Elizabeth’s understanding. Without that gentleman’s consent, there would be little reason for rejoicing, after all. Yet he longed to shed any disguise and put the truth of the matter before his friend and, deciding that Elizabeth could have no objection, Bingley set to become her brother as he was, Darcy soon enlightened him over his commitment to the lady.
Though his surprise at first was such that he assumed a joke on Darcy’s part, Bingley could not have been more delighted, and no small amount of questioning ensued as he tried to take in the news.
By the time the Colonel re-joined them, however, he had become accustomed to the intelligence, and his pleasurable anticipation of the close relationship it would secure between both men was paramount in his mind as he poured them all a tot of brandy by way of celebration.
Bingley then turned to the Colonel as he took a seat. “How is your mount?”
“A small wound on the fetlock. Your groom is kindly making up a poultice.” The Colonel stretched out his legs in front of him. “Fine set of stables you have here.”
“Thank you. I look forward to joining you both in a ride on the morrow.” He turned to Darcy. “When do you propose speaking with Miss Elizabeth’s father?”
“As soon as practicable. I will own to some apprehension, if our last interview with him is anything to go by.”
The Colonel snorted and Bingley frowned.
“My urgent business on the day you left Town, Bingley – my cousin and I called at Longbourn to forewarn Mr Bennet about a certain unsavoury individual who appeared to have designs upon the family.”
“Ah, yes. You mean Wickham, I presume.” Darcy raised a brow, and his friend continued. “His fate is common knowledge hereabouts, and I am afraid that there are those in the Bennet family who are neither subtle about forecasting the details nor grateful to you for your intervention now it is known.”
Darcy exchanged a resigned glance with his cousin. “Mrs Bennet never held much inclination for me, Bingley; I would imagine this interference of mine is as welcome to her as my presence ever was.”
Bingley laughed. “Well, I am certain you will not lose any sleep over not meeting with her approbation. After all, Derbyshire is a fair distance.” His smile faded briefly, and Darcy could understand why. To live in such close proximity to the woman would be more than he could endure. He was striving to be less judgemental and thus more tolerant, but there were things that were beyond him yet and some, he suspected, ever would be.
“So,” the Colonel turned to his host. “How was it for you, Bingley? Was the gentleman hard upon you?”
For a moment, Bingley looked somewhat abashed. Then, he shook his head. “Not really. I was due a reprimand of some sort. My failure to return from Town last autumn was called under question-” he cast Darcy a quick glance. “For which I took full responsibility.”
“So you felt no trepidation in your approach?”
Bingley opened his mouth, but no sound came out and then he closed it quickly. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he then gave them both a sheepish glance.
“Truth be told, I felt sick as a parrot – and was almost as green.”
The Colonel let out a shout of laughter. “There you go, Darce! You are at least in very good company.”
Darcy blew out a breath. “The delay does not make it any easier. Would that we had arrived at a more opportune time of day, that it could be over directly.”
His cousin drained his glass, putting it on the side table. “Would you like us to accompany you on the morrow?”
“That you may delight in my humiliation?”
“No – that we might share the whipping from the gentleman’s razor-sharp tongue – its lashing will no doubt be less severe if the blade must strike three targets at once!”
With a shake of his head, Darcy got to his feet, adding his empty glass to the Colonel’s. “I thank you for the offer, but I think I must face him without a ‘second’ on this occasion.”
The others stood as well, and Bingley led the way to the door.
“Well, then; let us summon the ladies and repair to the dining room. A fully-sated appetite will doubtless aid you in a good night’s rest, that you may have all your wits about you for the morning.”
~o0o~
Though she had long dismissed Mr Darcy himself as a potential suitor for one of her daughters, Mrs Bennet’s aversion to the gentleman’s company faded as quickly as her mind could grasp the benefit of Mr Bingley’s recently arrived guests. The likelihood of their neighbour and future son-in-law now entertaining at Netherfield had increased ten-fold from when he had been in solitary occupation, and though Bingley himself was already secured, she had no intention of letting anyone else in the district get a march on her own plans when there were other single young men in town.
Elizabeth had done her best to calm her mother’s effusions, but to little avail. It was in her family’s interest to encourage the acquaintance, and Mrs Bennet was soon set upon arranging a dinner invitation to be sent over forthwith, that Longbourn might be the first call upon their time. That her decision was heavily influenced by discovering the presence of Mr Darcy’s cousin, the Colonel, was apparent, for though he did not sport a red coat, this was far outweighed by the fact that he came from a titled family, sufficient inducement for her to consider him the rightful property of one or other of her remaining daughters.
Bored by her endless comments along this vein and full aware that his reflection over the supper table – that the second son of an Earl would hardly be in a position to take a wife with a dowry so small as £1,000 – had been completely ignored, Mr Bennet took the first opportunity to escape and, as was his wont, excused himself to return to his library.
He was followed into the hallway by Elizabeth, who bade him a quick goodnight, the journey having tired her sufficiently that she intended to repair to her room directly. Watching as she made her way up the stairs, he frowned. Her attempts over supper to persuade her mother away from ingratiating herself with Mr Darcy and his family smacked more of protecting the former than any desire to save Mrs Bennet from self-humiliation, and his misgivings from earlier returned. Was his daughter on her way to a broken heart?
He closed the library door with a snap, poured himself a glass of port and walked over to the hearth to stir the flames into further life. Mr Bennet had not taken quite so deep an aversion to Darcy as others had last autumn. He knew of the gentleman’s slight of Elizabeth – how could he not, with his wife so vociferous over it – but unlike Mrs Bennet, he found the gentleman’s attitude and aloof nature quite in keeping with his expectations of someone of such high social standing. He had also heard all the rumours concerning that young man and Wickham, including his own daughter’s opinions on both gentlemen – something that she clearly regretted, having since discovered how erroneous they were.
He sat down in a fireside chair, his glass cupped in both hands and stared into the flames. He valued Elizabeth beyond measure; she was, indeed, a jewel, a prize whose affections should be treasured – yet the reality stood. She was far from the Darcys’ sphere, and Mr Darcy – good man or not – would never stoop to their level when seeking a wife.
These ruminations were interrupted by a brief knock on the door as it was opened, and he turned in his seat as Jane entered the room.
“Papa? I am for bed. Is there anything you need before I retire?”
“Come in, my dear. Spare me a few moments of your time.” He motioned his daughter into the chair opposite as he placed his glass on the side table.
Jane smiled tentatively as she sat. “Is aught amiss?”
“I have a question for you, my dear. I know I can trust to your honesty.”
Jane nodded, though her confusion clearly remained.
“Well then.” Mr Bennet sat back in his chair, his hands steepled on his chest. “Lizzy’s re-acquaintance with Mr Darcy – has she spoken to you of him? She seems to hold him in high regard, which is quite contrary to her view when she left for Kent.”
The colour that stained his eldest daughter’s cheeks was sufficient. He knew he need speak no further on the matter, that he need not put poor, innocent Jane in the position of obliging a parent by breaking the trust of a sibling. Yet he would know.
“I see. So I was not mistaken earlier when Lizzy chose to enlighten me how misled she had been in her judgement of the gentleman. She has revised her opinion, that much I heard from her own lips; but is that the end of the matter, or is there more I should be aware of?”
His eldest looked quite distressed, and his heart misgave him.
“There, there.” He leaned forward and patted her on the knee. “Do not disturb yourself so. Lizzy herself left sufficient clues, my dear; you are merely confirming a riddle I was close to solving on my own. Now – run along.”
Jane kissed him on the cheek and hurriedly left the room, and Mr Bennet got wearily to his feet. Walking back over to the miniatures on the wall, he stared at the one of Elizabeth he had studied earlier. The rendering had been done about three years ago and was very like and slowly he reached out and touched her dear face. So, his instinct had not been at fault. His favourite child was taken with a man so far above her, she was destined for disappointment.
With a dissatisfied grunt, he turned and walked over to the table containing the decanters, pouring himself a further measure of port. He had all but raised it to his lips when the door was lightly rapped and opened swiftly and, turning around, he eyed Elizabeth as she slipped into the room and softly closed the door. He did not need her to speak to know that Jane had been to her, yet speak she did.
“Papa! How could you!” She paced across the hearthrug, a shawl hastily thrown about her shoulders, then turned on her heel and paced back again. Then, she sighed and turned to face him. “You force me to convey something that should come from another.”