Chapter 20
“Shall we shoot today?” Darcy asked Charles Bingley at breakfast, looking through the window and seeing not a cloud in the fine August sky. “It seems like excellent weather for some sport.”
The Darcy household had arrived at Netherfield Park only yesterday, but Darcy was conscious that they would not be in Hertfordshire very long.
He aimed to be safely in Pemberley by September, if not earlier, and far away from the clutches of Caroline Bingley and the unconscious allurements of Elizabeth Bennet for the rest of the year.
“Yes…yes, why not?” his friend answered, somewhat distractedly. “I promised Mrs Bennet I would change some books at the lending library in Meryton and collect a draught from the apothecary there for Miss Bennet, but I usually run such errands in the afternoon.”
“I think that is very kind and neighbourly of you, Mr Bingley,” Georgiana spoke up approvingly from across the table. “It is sad to hear that Miss Bennet has been unwell.”
Darcy nodded and added no comment, knowing that Bingley’s motivation sprang from something more than mere neighbourliness or his kind nature.
While the whole world seemed now to know that Jane Bennet would no longer be marrying Lord Grantchester, he still wondered whether Bingley’s present engagement with the Bennet family was wise.
The object of Bingley’s affections had been ill, and was likely very unhappy. Was this really the proper time for wooing, or would he only end by deepening his own unhappiness? Was there ever a proper time for wooing? Darcy supposed he was not really the man to answer that question.
Not when his only experience of considering marriage was his ill-judged proposal to Elizabeth Bennet at the Suttonfield ball.
Had Elizabeth read his letter? Not for the first time, Darcy wished he might know the answer.
It was hard to imagine how she would have reacted to its contents.
And if she had read it, had she believed him, had she changed her mind about him?
Or had she railed against him, thought him a liar, refused to reconsider her judgement? Anything seemed possible.
But though not knowing whether she might have looked on his letter positively or negatively, he could still easily visualise the liveliness of her features and the fire in her hazel eyes.
“Do you think that there is anything that we can do for Miss Bennet?” Mrs Annesley spoke up, looking to both gentlemen at the table. “Miss Darcy is keen to call on her while we are at Netherfield Park, but not if Miss Bennet’s health is still too weak for the excitement of visitors.”
“I shall ask Mrs Bennet for you this afternoon,” Bingley offered. “Miss Bennet is usually downstairs at Longbourn now, although she keeps to the parlour. I see her sometimes at tea, and she seems very much improved. The physician thinks so, too.”
“You sound like quite one of the family,” Georgiana commented with a smile, unconscious of any wider considerations. “As the Bennets have no sons, I am sure they are very glad to have you on hand.”
“Do you often take tea at Longbourn?” Darcy put in, still doubting the wisdom of Bingley’s present actions in terms of his friend’s longer-term happiness.
“I do not wish to impose, but Mrs Bennet insists upon my staying to tea, and Miss Bennet agrees with her,” Bingley replied with a faint blush on his fair skin. “They have all been most welcoming, and I do like to be of assistance.”
“Well, with Miss Bennet’s health so much better, do you think you might travel with us to Pemberley?” asked Darcy. “I know you wish for peace, but some company might be good for you, and I can promise you that we will live quietly. Miss Bingley would stay in London with the Hursts, I assume.”
Though it would hardly do to say as much to her brother. Darcy certainly did not want Caroline Bingley at Pemberley for months on end. Thankfully, Bingley did not seem to be missing his sister’s company either.
“Caroline aways does prefer to be in London,” he agreed, chewing his toast thoughtfully for a few seconds before continuing, “and I prefer to be here at Netherfield Park, even without any company. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish, Darcy, but I will not accompany you when you leave.”
“Very well,” Darcy said, swallowing a small sigh. “My invitation remains open if you change your mind.”
The two gentlemen stood politely as Georgiana and Mrs Annesley rose from the table. Having arrived earlier at breakfast, the ladies had already finished eating.
“We shall be in the music room,” Mrs Annesley told Mr Darcy. “Then we will take a drive.”
“Enjoy your shooting,” Georgiana added cheerfully. “I suppose we shall see you at luncheon.”
Once they were alone, Bingley yawned and slouched a little more in his chair, no longer quite so concerned with good manners now that the two ladies had departed.
“Do you know if Grantchester is giving up his house here now?” Darcy asked Bingley, also feeling freer to move onto subjects he preferred not to discuss before his younger sister. “I have not heard from him lately.”
Bingley shrugged and shook his head before dealing Darcy a somewhat severe glance. “I cannot say, although it seems likely that he must. Well, Darcy, I suppose you are glad that Miss Bennet’s engagement to Grantchester is over, even if the break caused her such grief.”
“I am relieved, more than glad, since I believe that marriage would have been a disaster for Miss Bennet,” Darcy replied.
“If I am glad of anything, it is only that Miss Bennet’s health has improved since the breaking of their engagement.
It did not cause her illness, Bingley, although it might have precipitated a necessary crisis that turned her health back around. ”
“What do you mean?” Bingley demanded warily. “Her mother insists that she would be perfectly well if she could only patch things up with Lord Grantchester.”
“Mrs Bennet is no physician, and Miss Bennet’s decline began some time ago,” Darcy insisted.
“I noted something of pallor and depressed spirits the very night that Grantchester announced their engagement. It was more pronounced each time I saw her afterwards. She never had the radiance of a bride-to-be.”
Bingley laughed, although his smile was doubtful. “Do you speak from your extensive experience of radiant brides?” he questioned Darcy. “Ill or not, I have never perceived Miss Bennet as anything other than the prettiest girl I have ever seen.”
“That is why you must trust my judgment, despite my admitted lack of practical expertise in the matter of radiant brides,” Darcy returned, conceding Bingley’s point but not his own.
“Grantchester might have seemed a favourable match for her in the eyes of the world, but that was pure illusion. In her heart, she might have known that the match was an unfortunate one.”
“Do you really think so?” Bingley mused. “You do not believe Miss Bennet ever loved Lord Grantchester? If you are saying that she accepted him only to be a countess, or to gain a fortune, I cannot share any view that does her character such a disservice.”
Darcy answered steadily, not wishing either to agitate Bingley or to dissimulate on his own account.
“I believe that Miss Bennet imagined herself in love with Lord Grantchester, as innocent young women often do temporarily imagine themselves in love with handsome, amiable, and apparently eligible suitors. Here, I do speak from some experience.”
George Wickham’s heartless wooing of Georgiana inevitably crossed Darcy’s mind as he spoke. Without an older brother to protect her, she might easily have gone ahead with the elopement Wickham had urged, and then realised far too late how her na?ve heart had been manipulated by a rogue.
The disapproval was gradually fading from Bingley’s expression and his thoughtfulness increasing. Bingley knew little of Wickham beyond Darcy’s enmity towards him, and his whole focus presently was on Miss Jane Bennet.
“So, Miss Bennet was overwhelmed by Grantchester’s attention and believed herself in love. Then, she realised she was mistaken, and has now broken the engagement,” he thought aloud. “You may be right. I do see how something like that could happen.”
“Something like that,” Darcy agreed, not wanting to get into any greater detail. “Now, let us finish our breakfast and get to our guns before the morning is gone.”
∞∞∞
After the shooting, Darcy strolled in the Netherfield gardens.
There was still an hour before luncheon yet, and no hurry to wash and dress.
After wandering through various rose gardens, cherry orchards, and neatly clipped lawns, he found himself at the wooden gate to the path leading downhill and then across to Longbourn.
Leaning on the gate, Darcy gazed towards the Bennets’ home, easily visible at three miles’ distance, although partly shaded by trees.
Elizabeth would be back there soon enough, although not before Darcy had gone to Pemberley.
After that, as he had promised her in the Gracechurch Street drawing room, they need never see one another again.
The thought was a melancholy one, and Darcy knew he ought not to dwell on it. All the same, a stream of memories of Elizabeth Bennet rushed across Darcy’s mind, reminding him of her smile, her quick wit, and the sprightliness of her step.
Would he marry Elizabeth if he could, regardless of everything? Yes, without a shadow of a doubt.
But she had made it very clear that she would not have him. There could be no hope.
It was in this place and mood that Georgiana found her brother a few minutes later, walking quietly up to him and laying her head affectionally against his arm.
“I would never abandon you when you were sad, as Caroline Bingley has done with her brother,” she told him.
Darcy smiled and put an arm around Georgiana’s shoulders. “I shall remind you of that when I am sad and poor company for you,” he told her.
“You are sad now,” his sister replied very certainly, “although you will not tell me why. You are, aren’t you?”
Unable to deny the charge and unwilling to admit it, or to interrogate himself too deeply as to its causes, Darcy sighed and looked again towards Longbourn. Unwillingly, he thought of Elizabeth and all that he would be leaving behind when they departed for Pemberley.
“I would be sadder yet without you,” he told Georgiana, giving her his arm and turning towards the house.