5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Elizabeth let out a deep sigh and inhaled the crisp autumn air, filling her lungs. The aroma was invigorating and one of the many reasons she loved the season. She was glad that she had made the time to get out of the house and away from the hustle and bustle of all her family members. There was just something about taking in the peace of nature that helped her to shed unwanted anxiety that seemed to be piling up at home.
Her carefree walk stopped when she bumped into Pax. Normally, he walked at her side completely in tandem with her motions, the perfect walking companion. However, this morning he had stopped and was blocking the well-worn path she knew so well. Observing him, she could see the finite movements in his ears and nose. Was there something out there?
Glancing around, Elizabeth could only see the nature that she expected to see. She did not see or hear anything unusual, but she trusted Pax’s instincts. Though after she waited a while only to have nothing happen, Elizabeth tried to walk further down the path, only to be once again blocked by her enormous dog. What was out there, and why was Pax so concerned?
Pax looked back at her when she once again tried to move forward and huffed in seeming frustration. Running her hand through his wiry fur as he leaned into her, Elizabeth fought her rising anxiety. She might have succeeded in calming down if she had not heard a twig snap in the distance. Straining her eyes towards the sounds, she eventually spotted a flash of red, and her mind instantly went to the militia officers who should have been miles away going about their duties, whatever they may be.
As the sound moved closer, Elizabeth knew that there was nothing she could do but wait. Pax would not let her move further down the path and she did not want whoever it was to come up behind her if she turned around and went back to Longbourn Manor. And so she waited, hoping that her dog’s worries were unfounded. Though her furry companion was a complete pushover when it came to belly rubs, that didn't mean he couldn't show his size and teeth when necessary. After all, he was named peace for a reason.
Putting jam on his toast, Darcy smiled to himself. At least he could eat his breakfast in peace without worrying about being ambushed by Miss Bingley. Taking a bite, he took a moment to savor the flavor of the marmalade as it burst brightly on his tongue. He was brushing the crumbs off his cheek when a sound had him looking at the doorway.
Bingley mumbled a groggy greeting of “Morning Darce,” as he entered the room.
Darcy watched as his friend stumbled over to the coffee and poured himself a cup and began drinking it black. It looked like Bingley had forsaken his usual cup of coffee with cream and sugar for a more potent blend. “You look exhausted, Bingley. Didn’t you go to sleep early last night?” Darcy asked, noticing the lines etched on his friend’s face.
Bingley made a face as he took a gulp of the dark drink and shuddered. Darcy managed not to laugh at his tired friend’s antics as Bingley went back to the side table and added in some cream and sugar. With his now lightened and sweetened cup of coffee, Bingley slumped in a chair across from Darcy and said, “Good to know it’s not just me feeling it. Otherwise, I would have thought I had only imagined being able to feel this worn.”
Darcy was quick to ask, “What kept you from sleeping this time?”
Running his hand through his already mussed hair, Bingley said, “I was just up late last night reading one of the books you suggested. I had thought that it might lull me to sleep, but it did not help. My worries made it difficult for me to relax and fall asleep. There is just so much I did not know about the responsibility of land ownership, and I am finding myself overwhelmed.”
Darcy could easily remember when his father had become ill and then quickly died, and he suddenly had to take over more than he was ready for. Voice soft, Darcy said, “I well understand that feeling. If it is any help, my sister and Mrs. Ansley should arrive within the fortnight. My cousin is on leave, and I went ahead and asked him to come as well. He might not be a landowner, but he knows people and would be more than happy to help you out where you might need it.”
What Darcy did not say was that when he realized that the militia was in the area, he worried that his sister might just encounter Wickham. It was only recently that he discovered, through one of his informants, that Wickham had been seen donning the colors of the militia. The likelihood that Wickham would be in the area while his sister was on her way to Hertfordshire was low, but he wanted to take care.
In order to keep Wickham in check, Darcy decided to invite his cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam along, knowing how much he wanted to confront the bludger. That way, if Wickham or anyone else for that matter stepped one inch out of line, he could be taken care of. With his status as a colonel and the son of an earl, Fitzwilliam would have power over Wickham, who had unwittingly placed himself within his jurisdiction by enlisting in the militia.
Bingley waved dismissively in the air while drinking the last of his coffee. Then, frowning into the empty cup, he said, “I have always liked your cousin. He is a jolly chap, though with all he must have seen, I do not know how he does it.” Getting up, Bingley went back and poured himself more coffee.
Quirking an eyebrow at Bingley’s desperate need for energy, Darcy cautioned him. “As much as you might need the coffee, you are going to make yourself sick if you do not eat something as well.”
Bingley nodded his head and, after putting his cup down, he grabbed a plate and piled it high with all his favorites. For a time after Bingley sat back down at the table, they both ate in companionable silence. Pausing between bites, Bingley said, “We received an invitation to an engagement dinner at the Lucas house. I know my sisters will choose not to attend, but I was wondering if you would want to go with me.”
This comment froze Darcy with his fork halfway to his mouth. He had promised himself that he would try to do better with the people of the community. Darcy knew that he should go but there was the question: would Miss Elizabeth be there? Could he navigate the delicate balance of kindness without raising false expectations for either of them? Seeing Bingley’s hopeful expression, Darcy quickly said, “Yes, of course. I am sure it will be nice to mingle with your neighbors.”
Bingley nodded and then went back to eating. Darcy meanwhile tried not to worry about the upcoming interaction with Miss Elizabeth. He ate almost mechanically, not tasting his food at all. His mind was already wondering down a dangerous path when Bingley suddenly declared, “I miss the Bennet ladies.”
Darcy could not help but agree with his friend, though he would never feel comfortable saying as much. He knew duty demanded that he should not be as fixated on her as he was. At least he had stopped being so rude around her before she left. Putting his fork down, Darcy said, “I will admit that they were both pleasant company.” It was both true and safe enough to say.
Bingley snorted. “Pleasant company? When compared with my sisters, they are elegance personified.” Bingley fiddled with the tablecloth for a moment before saying, “I think Miss Bennet might be the one, Darcy.”
Looking at Bingley over the rim of his coffee cup, Darcy debated what he should say. He had seen his friend’s attraction to Miss Bennet but there was more to making a match than attraction. Wondering if his friend actually felt more than he usually did Darcy took a sip of his drink before saying, “I have seen you fall in and out of puppy love before Bingley, so you will excuse me when I have cause to doubt you when you say that.”
A slight blush spread across Bingley’s cheeks, and he cleared his throat. “I know I have not exactly acted with discretion when it came to my crushes in the past, but it is different this time.”
“How so?” Darcy asked and, while finishing the last of his eggs, curious to hear Bingley's answer.
The corner of Bingley’s mouth quirked up in a half smile before he said, “I could not really explain it well enough; I do not think. I can only say I feel different when I am with her. When I talk with her, I want to be the kind of man she deserves. She makes me want to be a better person. The type of man who is strong enough to shield and protect her from the cruelties of the world.”
Darcy looked at Bingley in utter confusion. Leaning forward, he said, “Bingley, you may have come from trade, but you often rub elbows with lords and ladies. What is with this attitude? You are a cheerful person who is always kind to those he meets. You know her mother has been hunting for a wealthy enough husband for Miss Bennet since she put her out at fifteen. I question whether she deserves someone as good as you.” Leaning back, Darcy thought he had spoken well until he saw the anger flash in Bingley’s eyes.
Frowning at his friend in a way that Darcy recognized as a reprimand, Bingley said, “Do not be so stuck up, Darcy. You know that I have been weak in the past. I have let my sisters walk all over me until recently. Standing up for myself is not something I typically do, as I tend to opt for the path of least resistance. I think it is one of the reasons I am struggling so hard with estate management. To fulfill this role, I must assertively guide and direct others, ensuring they understand their tasks. I have no experience doing it and I am second guessing myself.”
Knowing he was treading on unsteady ground, Darcy said, “You could reach higher than Miss Bennet. If you choose someone with better connections and a large dowry, it could help build your legacy.” It was only right that he pointed out to Bingley’s options. Right?
Rolling his eyes Bingley responded by saying, “Darcy, you know I would never be happy with a cold and calculating relationship so favored by the ton. I need love and affection in my life.”
“Yes, but does she love you?” asked Darcy.
“That is why you court a woman, Darcy, to unravel the mysteries of her heart, or perhaps to intensify the emotions that already exist.” Bingley’s voice carried an odd chiding tone, as if he recognized that Darcy was clueless when it came to matters of the heart.
Suppressing his amazement, Darcy questioned, “You are planning to court her?”
“Yes, and I am hoping to ride over to ask her father for permission sometime soon. I am just waiting to get things here in better order. Like I said, she makes me want to be a better person, a person in control of his own life and taking care of his responsibilities.” Sopping up the last bits of food on his plate with some toast, Bingley added, “Well, I am done. What say you and I go to my study to review a few things?”
Darcy nodded absent-mindedly while he wiped his mouth. Was it possible that Miss Bennet was good for Bingley? She was a gentleman’s daughter, after all. He could do much worse, and it wasn’t as if Bingley was going to rush into anything. He was planning on seeing where her feelings lay. Despite his struggles, it seemed as if Bingley was in a good place with a bright future before him. So why did Darcy feel like he was missing out on something amazing while his friend was finding it?
A few swift strides had them arriving at the study and moving to sit on either side of the desk. Getting comfortable in the chair, Darcy asked, “How do the ledgers look?”
Looking down at the stacks of paper in front of him, Bingley lost his smile as he said, “I have been able to sort through some of it without issue. For example, the expenses from the stables and grounds seem fairly straightforward and everything adds up nicely. The household accounts, on the other hand, are a nightmare of poor math and confusion.” Fiddling with the stack of papers in front of him, Bingley continued, “I have my sister to thank for the issues there. Her ability to add long columns of numbers seems on par with my penmanship.”
“That does not bode well for her future household.” Commented Darcy. Really, what had that school she went to actually taught her? Grabbing the stack of papers in the corner, Darcy flipped through it, checking the sums as he went. Math had always come easy for him. Numbers were orderly, and unlike people, they rarely confused him.
“There is so much that I have to go back and verify and correct. It is overwhelming.” Dropping the pages in his hands with a sigh, Bingley added, “I never should have let Caroline bully me into allowing her to run the household. This is going to take hours to correct, won’t it?”
Darcy could not think of a way to be more encouraging, so he stuck to simple and true. “Yes.” He quickly saw that his curt response had not helped matters, so he added, “But do not worry about it too much. I will be here to help you with it.”
Bingley’s silence concerned Darcy. He could tell his friend was thinking hard about something and he wished that there was something that he could do to help take away the pained look on his face. Thinking back to when he took control of everything after his father’s death, Darcy recognized how Bingley had been there to help him see that there was still light in the world. He helped him get out of his head when he needed to step away from everything that had consumed him. He would always be grateful for how he had helped him, but Darcy worried he could not return the favor.
Bingley was the one that saw the joy in a room full of darkness. That was not a skill that Darcy possessed. He was skilled at watching out for people trying to take advantage of him. He was good at staying in control and doing what was expected of him. How was he going to help Bingley as he struggled with this new endeavor? Worry for his friend had Darcy watching Bingley closely, so he saw when he seemed to make a decision.
Pushing back the papers in front of him, Bingley sighed, and scrubbing at his face, he groaned. Then, looking up at Darcy, he looked him straight in the eye and said, “What would you say if I told you I do not know if becoming an estate owner is for me?”
Brows drawn together in concern for the despondency he saw in his friend, Darcy said, “Bingley, what are you saying? Are you thinking that I will not stay your friend if you are not a landowner? That is utterly preposterous. You know I do not care for the posturing that so many of my peers do. You are a good man, a wonderful friend, and that will not change whether or not you have a piece of land tied to your name.”
“But you know it is what my father wanted for me. Most all my family, in fact, have wanted this for me. Both my sisters would go mad if I even hinted that I would not become a landed gentleman.”
Shaking his head, Darcy responded in earnest. “Why would that affect my relationship with you? I want to see you happy. If you will not be happy with an estate, then I do not want it for you. I know it is what your family wanted, but it is your life, and you have the right to live it in a way that will bring you joy. Really, if your family truly loved you, then they would want your happiness more than some piece of land and prominence.”
Bingley leaned back in his chair, his eyes widening a bit as he said, “I am actually surprised that you would say that.”
“Why wouldn’t I want you to be happy?” Darcy was almost hurt that his friend would not think that he would want the best for him. Hadn’t they spent enough time together from first at school and then after? Bingley had been there for him when his father had died, and Darcy had done the same when Bingley’s parents had died in that carriage accident. Did Bingley think he was that shallow?
“I know you want me to be happy, but Darcy, you are always so fixated on what your family wants for you.” Bingley’s voice was full of a tired concern that held true even as he said, “I almost thought that you would want me to obey my family’s wishes as well.”
Sitting forward, Darcy asked, “What do you mean?”
“Take, for example, your vaunted control. You must always be in control because it is a Darcy trait that your father demanded of you. I know you castigate yourself for losing control of yourself or a situation, but Darcy, you are only human. While it is good to keep a cool head and not lose your temper, you are also allowed to enjoy yourself or get upset.” Bingley began tapping on the table. Thumb, then his other fingers in order all in a uniform speed that Darcy was familiar with. For a moment, Darcy did not know what to think. He had never allowed himself to think of anything his father taught him as wrong. His father was a good man who wanted good things for him and the tenants of Pemberley. Why would he ever question him? Bingley’s voice drew him out of his confused thoughts when he said, “There is also the way you are going about searching for a wife.”
“My search for a wife?” Darcy felt odd and was only capable of parroting back to Bingley. How had a conversation about estate ledgers gone so far afield?