Chapter IX
Breakfast the following morning was when Darcy confronted the thoughts that had plagued him since the previous day.
“What is troubling you, Darcy?” said Fitzwilliam, ever perceptive. “And before you ask, I am well enough acquainted with you to understand when something is weighing on your mind.”
Darcy sighed and pushed the food around his plate, feeling little appetite.
His concerns were not ones he wanted to share with his cousin, but he knew Fitzwilliam would not allow him to demur now that he had noticed.
As the matter concerned him, Darcy knew he should speak up at once—yet he could not until he understood the situation better.
“Tell me, Fitzwilliam,” said Darcy, choosing his words with care, “are you set on Miss Bennet as a bride?”
Fitzwilliam’s expression was far too knowing for Darcy’s taste. “Far more certain than I was a few weeks ago, but I have not yet resolved to have her.”
“Perhaps not, but I know you well enough to understand that you would not pay her this much attention if you were not considering an offer.”
“Then I wonder why you are asking at all, Darcy,” replied Fitzwilliam. “If you understand that much, then you already know the answer. So I shall ask again—what is troubling you?”
“A conversation I had with Miss Elizabeth yesterday,” said Darcy, capitulating.
“Oh? I would not have thought she would discompose you so thoroughly—or more than she already does without trying.”
“It is about Jane Bennet and Bingley.”
Fitzwilliam offered a slow nod—Darcy suspected he had confirmed his cousin’s suspicions. As Fitzwilliam was not bereft of the ability to read between the lines, Darcy was not surprised.
“Tell me, Darcy, what particularly troubles you?”
“That my friendship with him may dissolve.”
For a long moment, Fitzwilliam considered this. “Do you suppose Bingley will accuse me of betrayal, of using his hospitality to pursue a woman he rejected?
“Before you protest, Darcy,” interrupted Fitzwilliam, “what Bingley did was precisely that. Perhaps he did not speak the words, but his silence and his failure to return was a rejection. There is no other way to look at it, regardless of what held him back.”
Darcy sighed. “I shall not argue with you, Fitzwilliam. In answer to your question, I cannot say that I know what Bingley will do. While he appeared smitten with Miss Bennet when he was in Hertfordshire, he did not mention her name in London, except when his sisters pointed out the deficiencies in her situation.”
“And what has brought on these ruminations? I might have thought you recognized this possibility when you learned of my interest.”
Pushing his plate away, Darcy turned and stared out the window in moody silence. “At first, I was too shocked to consider it; then I was distracted by Miss Elizabeth. It was only when she spoke of it yesterday that the implications became clear to me.”
Fitzwilliam snorted. “If you will forgive me, Darcy, your affection for Miss Elizabeth has clouded your senses. Usually, you are quick to consider all possible angles.”
“I suppose I cannot argue with that,” muttered Darcy.
“Can you explain your disquiet?”
Darcy thought on it for a time before he answered. “Miss Elizabeth contends her sister would have accepted Bingley had he proposed. Miss Bennet confided that she had not loved Bingley, but I suspect if Bingley had returned, they would have found their way to each other.”
“I am not unaware of this.”
“I wonder if I robbed Bingley of his chance at happiness.”
Silence settled over them. Darcy wondered if his friendship with Bingley was about to end, while Fitzwilliam considered the question. For several long moments, neither spoke.
“Tell me, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam, “what you mean to accomplish?”
“If you suggest that I’m asking you to bow out, I am not,” replied Darcy. “I would never do such a thing.”
“Good. Because if you did, it would damage our relationship.”
Darcy shook his head. “That would not be fair to you or to Miss Bennet. I would never presume.”
Fitzwilliam offered a curt nod. “I shall not give up Miss Bennet, not for Bingley, and not for anyone else. The essential point in all this, Darcy, is that Bingley declined to pursue Miss Bennet when he had every chance to make his sentiments known. Perhaps you had a hand in persuading him away, but you were not malicious. It was Bingley’s choice to withdraw. ”
“Yes, it was,” agreed Darcy. “Yet I cannot but suppose it was my assertion concerning Miss Bennet’s indifference that prevented him from returning. Bingley does not listen to his sisters so much as they suppose—if I had kept quiet, Bingley would have returned.”
“That is interesting,” said Fitzwilliam, leaning back in his chair. “Bingley’s willingness to listen to his sisters aside, did you suggest that she was indifferent?”
Darcy recalled the conversation and shook his head. “No, I did not put it in terms so stark as that. I asserted that I did not think her heart was easily touched and suggested her affection was not the equal of his, but I did not call her indifferent.”
“Then you did not actually say anything untrue, Darcy. By Miss Bennet’s testimony, she was not in love with Bingley, nor would I have thought she was, based on her current situation with me—if she had been in love with him, she would not have recovered so quickly.
Regarding the state of Bingley’s feelings for her, I can say nothing, but I suspect they were stronger.
The only thing about which you were mistaken is your contention that her heart was not easily touched. I have proof that is in error.”
“Given your current circumstances, I cannot disagree.”
“Tell me something of Bingley, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam. “Though I have made his acquaintance, I know little of him other than what you have told me.”
Darcy pondered this for several moments before he responded. “Bingley is an excellent fellow—in many ways, he is like you, though his outlook on life is not so mature.”
“That is not a surprise,” replied Fitzwilliam. “Time in the army does much to direct a man’s attention to what truly matters, and I am several years older than Bingley. Do you speak of anything particular?”
“Bingley’s behavior with the ladies, among other things.”
“Then the rumors about his dalliances are true.”
“I would not call them dalliances,” said Darcy. “Bingley often admires ladies of a certain type, but he is not forward enough to pursue them beyond light flirtation. His usual pattern is to admire a lady, dance, converse, laugh with her, then lose interest.”
This caught Fitzwilliam’s attention. “It is possible—even probable that Bingley would have followed the same pattern with Miss Bennet.”
Darcy frowned. “It is, but I am not certain. Bingley’s fascination with Miss Bennet lasted longer than usual.
As he has not confided in me, I cannot say if he meant to propose to her, but I suspect he was at least considering it.
His sister’s reaction told me that she, at least, was convinced that he meant to act against her wishes. ”
“And how does she fit into this business, other than her attempt to persuade him away?”
Glaring at his cousin, Darcy said: “Come, Fitzwilliam, you know enough of Miss Bingley to understand her motivations.”
“‘A determined social climber,’ that is what you called her,” said Fitzwilliam. “Yes, I recall. That brings us back to her design to push her brother toward Georgiana, then persuade you that she is the most logical choice to become your bride.”
“I should point out that Miss Bingley never said as much openly, though I understood her intention—it was not difficult to see through her designs. Even Georgiana knew what she was about from a few comments Miss Bingley made to her.”
A shake of his head comprised Fitzwilliam’s response, and Darcy was not of a mind to disagree.
Though he would not say as much to his cousin, Darcy had reflected on the possibility of Georgiana and Bingley making a match, though it had never been more than idle speculation.
Bingley was an excellent fellow, and Georgiana possessed a tender heart—they would complement each other.
Whether that was enough to build a marriage on, Darcy could not say.
“Then we have established Miss Bingley is a grasping sort of woman,” said Fitzwilliam, judgment filling his tone. “You mentioned Bingley does not listen to his sisters. Can you be more explicit?”
“It is just what I said,” replied Darcy.
“Bingley is not a milksop, but he often defers to his sister—I have counseled him to exert more control, but he does not appreciate conflict and does not wish to provoke an argument. When the matter is one about which he does not feel strongly, Bingley allows her to have her own way. But Bingley can be as stubborn as anyone when he feels he is in the right.”
Fitzwilliam’s response was nothing more than an absent nod. Then he sighed and focused his attention again on Darcy.
“If you wish to hear my opinion, I shall tell you, though I suspect you will not like it.”
“I am not Lady Catherine, Cousin. You may say anything you like. Whether I agree is another matter altogether.”
“Very well.” Fitzwilliam regarded him with no trace of hesitation.
“I believe it is for the best that Bingley did not return to Hertfordshire, and I do not say that because of my interest in Miss Bennet.
These past weeks, I have learned many things about Miss Bennet.
She is a fine woman with excellent qualities, but she is not a forceful woman.
Should they have married, she is so unassuming and Bingley so complying that I suspect Miss Bingley would have caused trouble between them.
Perhaps she would not have ruled them, but I believe she would have exerted far more influence than she should.