Chapter 15 #2
A most extraordinary sensation of relief passed through him – so sudden and so powerful that he was obliged to steady himself before speaking again.
Only then did he realise that Elizabeth was watching him with a curious expression.
“Pray come into the parlour, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Bennet said briskly, recovering her command of the situation. “You must sit down after your ride.”
Darcy bowed and followed her and Elizabeth across the hall.
The parlour was bright with the late morning light.
Mrs. Bennet scarcely allowed them to be seated before declaring that some refreshments must certainly be brought.
“A gentleman cannot ride all the way from Netherfield without requiring something,” she said, already moving toward the door.
“I shall see that tea is brought directly.” With this determination, she hurried away, leaving them alone.
For a moment neither spoke.
Elizabeth took a chair near the window. Darcy remained standing for an instant before seating himself opposite her.
The silence, though brief, was not entirely comfortable.
“If I do not have the pleasure of seeing Miss Mary and Mr. Collins on this visit, pray give my congratulations to them.”
“I will.”
“Did he not arrive only recently?”
“He arrived when we came home from Netherfield.”
“That is less than a fortnight.”
“Indeed. Mr. Collins appears to have discovered that a walk in the garden was all that was required.”
Darcy paused a moment. “I believe they may suit one another very well.”
Elizabeth inclined her head slightly. “I think they might.”
After a short silence, he added, “Though I understand why you would not have suited him.”
Elizabeth looked at him with a hint of amusement. “Indeed? Am I not fit to be a parson’s wife?”
“Miss Elizabeth, you know perfectly well I meant no such thing.”
“Then what did you mean?”
Darcy hesitated a moment before answering. “You appear to value something more in a marriage.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “That is a very cautious way of putting it.”
“You yourself said he could not make you happy.”
“And that I could not make him happy.”
Darcy allowed himself the smallest smile. “Yes. You were very certain of it.”
Elizabeth leaned back slightly in her chair. “You have met him, sir. I think the matter requires little explanation.”
Darcy studied her for a moment. “You have formed an idea, then, of what would make you happy.”
Elizabeth’s expression brightened with a touch of playful defiance. “Of course I have.”
“And you will not tell me what it is.”
“No.”
“Not even a hint?”
She shook her head. “I think, Mr. Darcy, that would be far too revealing.”
“Perhaps you will tell me when we are better acquainted.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. “But you are going away. I do not see how our acquaintance can improve very much.”
She paused a moment, as though the thought required less composure than it unexpectedly did. A slight, unwelcome tightness stirred within her, which she could not immediately account for, and was determined not to examine.
Before Darcy could reply, the door opened, and Mrs. Bennet returned, followed by a maid carrying a tray.
“My dear Mr. Darcy, you must take something,” she said briskly.
“It is so good of you to come. You are the cure for a mother’s nerves, sir.
Here, have some refreshment.” She arranged the cups with great energy before settling herself with evident satisfaction.
“Lizzy, help Mr. Darcy.” Then she turned back to their guest. “I must say,” she continued, “I do not know what made Miss Bingley believe you were leaving the neighbourhood so suddenly. The idea has thrown us all into the greatest confusion.”
“You are not leaving, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth stopped in the middle of pouring tea.
“No, indeed. Nobody is leaving. Miss Bingley?” He asked both of them.
“She sent a message yesterday saying you were all going to London, for good,” Elizabeth said. “So, you are not leaving at all?”
“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Miss Bingley wrote to my daughter yesterday that you were all quitting Netherfield and returning to London.”
Darcy’s expression changed. “I assure you, madam, Miss Elizabeth, no such plan exists.”
Elizabeth lowered her eyes briefly.
“None whatsoever,” he continued. “Mr. Bingley has business in London for a few days, but he intends to return very shortly.”
Elizabeth looked up quickly. “Return? He returns?”
“Yes. Did he not say so to Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth hesitated a moment. She rose. “I must tell Jane. Excuse me.” She moved toward the door, but before leaving, she turned back. “Miss Bingley made her believe she was abandoned. She has not come down this morning.” With that, she left the room.
The quiet distress in her voice and the tenderness with which she spoke of her sister struck Darcy more strongly than he expected.
For a moment, there was silence. He had risen when she stood suddenly, the cup in his hands. He called to her. “Miss Elizabeth!”
She paused at the doorway and turned back.
“I must beg a moment of your attention. I came, in fact, partly on Mr. Bingley’s behalf. He asked me to deliver a message, to Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth regarded him with quick attention and stepped back into the room. “A message?”
Darcy inclined his head.
“I shall try to persuade her to come downstairs.” With that, she left the room.
Darcy remained standing where she had left him.
If Miss Bennet had indeed been led to expect Mr. Bingley’s departure, the fault might not lie entirely with her imagination.
He shook his head slightly. Miss Bingley appeared to have thought of everything – except his unwillingness to leave.
It occurred to him, not without some uneasiness, that only a few days earlier he might very well have gone with them.
“A message from Mr. Bingley!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Well! That is very obliging indeed. Lizzy was right. My Jane was distraught. What got into Miss Bingley to frighten her so?”
Mrs. Bennet continued to express her astonishment at Miss Bingley’s conduct, but Darcy scarcely attended to her words. His thoughts remained fixed on what Elizabeth had just said.
Miss Bennet had believed herself abandoned. His coming then was even more important than simply letting her know about the delay.
He did not want to consider what else Miss Bingley must have written.
Footsteps sounded in the passage. A moment later, the door opened. Elizabeth entered first, and Jane Bennet followed her. Darcy rose immediately.
Miss Bennet looked pale, though her gentle composure remained unchanged. Her manner was perfectly calm, but there was a softness in her expression which suggested she had not passed a happy morning.
“My dear Jane!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed at once. “Mr. Darcy has something to tell you. A message from Mr. Bingley!”
Jane looked quickly from her mother to Darcy, and then briefly to Elizabeth, as if seeking some quiet reassurance.
Darcy bowed.
“Miss Bennet, I am glad to see you this morning. Indeed, I have come because Mr. Bingley asked me to assure you that he will return to Netherfield within a few days. He sent a message from London saying that he will be delayed because his partner in the business venture still needs to sign the papers. He wrote that he would be back next Wednesday or so.”
Jane did not answer immediately.
Darcy continued, “He wished it to be understood that his absence is only temporary.”
Jane’s composure faltered for the briefest instant. “He intends to return?”
“Yes.”
A faint colour rose in her cheeks. “I am very glad to hear it,” she said softly. “Thank you for conveying the message, Mr. Darcy.”
Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands with renewed enthusiasm.
“Well! I always said there must be some misunderstanding. My poor Jane was quite distressed yesterday. Miss Bingley frightened her most unnecessarily.”
Jane attempted a small smile. “I am sure Miss Bingley did not intend to alarm me, Mama.”
Miss Elizabeth said nothing, though the slight movement of her brows suggested that she did not entirely share her sister’s charitable interpretation.
Darcy observed the exchange in silence. Jane Bennet’s sweetness of temper was evident even in disappointment, and her immediate willingness to excuse Miss Bingley did her honour. Yet he could not help suspecting that Miss Bingley’s intentions had been considerably less innocent.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, was watching her sister closely. Only when she saw that Jane’s colour had returned slightly, and that her voice had regained its usual steadiness, did the anxious tension leave her expression.
Mrs. Bennet had already begun speaking again with renewed animation. “Well! You see my darling. Everything is as it should be. We were worried about nothing.”
Jane attempted to quiet her mother. “Mr. Bingley is free to come and go as he pleases. I do not want to make it seem that he owes me any explanation.” She looked at Darcy. “It is of no consequence, Mama.”
Elizabeth said nothing. She had risen quietly and moved toward the window, where the sun could now be seen in the middle of the sky before it began to descend.
For a few moments she stood there in silence. Then she turned slightly. “Mr. Darcy, might I trouble you for a moment?”
Darcy rose at once and joined her.
She spoke in a lower voice. “There is something I think you ought to know.”
Darcy inclined his head.
“In Miss Bingley’s letter,” Elizabeth continued, “she did not merely say that you were all leaving Netherfield.”
Darcy waited.
“She also suggested that Mr. Bingley’s return to London was very agreeable to him – because his family expected him soon to form an attachment elsewhere.”
Darcy’s expression darkened slightly. “Elsewhere?”
Elizabeth met his gaze steadily. “With your sister.”
For a moment he said nothing.
Elizabeth continued quietly. “Miss Bingley seemed very certain that such a union was anticipated by the whole family.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “I can assure you, Miss Elizabeth, that no such expectation exists. She is not even out.”
His voice remained calm, but there was a sharpness in it that had not been present before.
“My sister has never encouraged Mr. Bingley in that manner, nor has he ever given the smallest indication of such an intention. We would not be now friends if he had. She is sixteen.”
Elizabeth studied his expression carefully. “Oh,” she nodded, “I suspected as much,” she said. “But I thought it right that you should know what my sister was led to believe.”
Darcy’s displeasure was now impossible to conceal. “Miss Bingley appears to have taken very considerable liberties with the truth.”
Elizabeth did not answer. But she could not help observing that Mr. Darcy’s composure, though still outwardly controlled, had been visibly shaken. “You are displeased,” she said.
Darcy’s expression grew darker. “I do not like to see my sister’s name used in such a manner,” Darcy replied shortly. After a brief pause, he added, “Nor Miss Bennet made unhappy by it.”