Chapter 14
“Bingley, it is early in the day for a call,” Darcy said as Soames led his friend into the breakfast room at Darcy House. “What brings you here at this hour?”
Georgiana and Miss Elizabeth Bennet had already eaten their breakfast and departed to the music room, leaving Darcy alone with his newspaper and lukewarm tea. He had some letters to write to his steward at Pemberley and hoped that this unanticipated visit would not be a long one.
“I wanted your advice, Darcy,” Bingley told him, sitting down at the table and fiddling with his cufflink. “It’s about Miss Jane Bennet.”
Darcy nodded but suppressed a sigh, sensing again the danger of involving himself in a matter of such strife between Bingley and his sisters.
“Is this advice that I am well-qualified to give, Bingley? It seems that I have already advised you wrongly once on this matter. I am loath to do the same again.”
“Who else can I ask?” his friend turned the question back on Darcy.
“I can hardly talk to Hurst. My sisters’ attitude towards the Bennet family has made them untrustworthy now that I know Miss Jane Bennet has been in London this whole winter.
You I can forgive, understanding that you believed in Miss Bennet’s indifference to me.
Caroline and Louisa’s motivations were less noble. ”
“I cannot say I was noble, but my belief was a genuine one,” Darcy remarked with a weary shrug, seeing that Bingley was not to be deterred from his consultation. “Well, qualified or not, I shall advise you to the best of my ability. Go on.”
“I have arranged to call on Miss Bennet’s uncle, Mr Gardiner, at Gracechurch Street,” Bingley explained gravely. “Given my existing connection with the family in Hertfordshire, he was happy to receive me, and I understand that Miss Jane Bennet will also be present with her aunt.”
“Mr Gardiner is a reasonable man. I like him,” Darcy volunteered. “He has the best interests of his nieces at heart, and I have no doubt that he will listen to you with sense and feeling. Is that of any help?”
Bingley exhaled with some frustration and shook his head.
“Whether her uncle approves of me or not, do I still have any chance with Miss Bennet? When we left Hertfordshire before Christmas, you and my sisters convinced me that my affections were not returned. You almost succeeded, but from speaking to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I now know that not to be true. Miss Jane Bennet had a true regard for me all along.”
“Then why not go straight to Gracechurch Street and declare yourself without any beating about the bush?”
“You think I should do that?” queried Bingley, sitting up straight at the table and frowning at his friend’s very direct inquiry.
“No, I do not,” Darcy said, having asked the question only rhetorically and in irritation. “That is not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I suppose I meant to ask, if you were really so sure of your feelings as you say, why would you need my advice or approval or anyone else’s?
” Darcy said with a touch of impatience.
“Your own conviction ought to be enough, one way or the other, surely. Any uncertainty on such an important matter is a sign that one should think more before acting.”
“I am not so strong as you, Darcy, nor so sure of myself,” pleaded his companion.
“No woman is likely to turn down your offer of marriage, should you make one. I do not have the same confidence. Given my long absence, I fear that Miss Bennet’s feelings could have changed from what they were.
She may now think me fickle and decline my hand. ”
“If that is Miss Bennet’s belief, she is the only person who can confirm it, just as you are the only person who might prove or disprove your fidelity.”
“Yes, that is true,” Bingley acknowledged, drawing himself up and nodding slowly but resolutely.
“I do feel clearer now in my own mind. I shall make my feelings clear at the first opportunity. Miss Bennet may rebuff me if she wishes, and I will accept any deserved censure she hands me, as long as she leaves me hope.”
“Go carefully, my friend,” Darcy cautioned him. “You say you left Netherfield after we persuaded you into one belief. Conversation with Miss Elizabeth Bennet has now apparently persuaded you into the reverse.”
Despite Elizabeth Bennet’s spirited representations to both men, it was hard for Darcy to imagine such depths of passion and affection in the breast of the mild-mannered, gentle, and placid-seeming Jane Bennet.
Might Elizabeth Bennet have deceived herself over the strength of Jane’s affections?
Had she projected some of her own strength of feeling onto her sister, through desiring Jane’s future security and wellbeing?
“Miss Jane Bennet is an angel, Darcy,” retorted Bingley, fastening his coat buttons and preparing to take his leave. “Only her own fixed disinclination would prevent me from seeking her hand.”
“You are a grown man and must go your own way,” Darcy replied.
“Still, you would do well to ascertain your own view of Miss Bennet’s feelings beyond any doubt before you talk of marriage, especially into a family with no advantages of name or fortune.
The Bennet family’s circumstances make them a most unfortunate connection —”
“For you, perhaps, Darcy,” Bingley said cheerfully, interrupting Darcy’s musing and making his friend start in his chair. “I do not see it that way for myself.”
His face flushing self-consciously, Darcy stood to walk his friend back to the front door.
Bingley could not guess the feelings Darcy had been struggling with, could he?
There was no artifice or sophistication to Charles Bingley.
Maybe that made it worse. If he had stumbled on the truth of Darcy’s unwanted fascination with Elizabeth Bennet.
It would mean that Darcy must have said or done something obvious.
Thankfully, Bingley said nothing more on the subject of Darcy and the Bennet ladies, being too engrossed in his own much wished-or reunion with Jane Bennet.
“Wish me luck, Darcy, even if you doubt my wisdom. There is truly no other woman who could make me happy.”
“I wish you luck in all things,” Darcy assured him. “Luck and wisdom too.”
As he watched Charles Bingley re-enter his carriage at the gate, a rush of footsteps sounded on the stairs behind him.
“Was that Mr Bingley, Fitzwilliam? I thought I recognised his voice. Why didn’t he come up and see us too?”
Georgiana reached the door just in time to see the Bingley coach pulling away down the road outside Darcy House.
“Mr Bingley has another important call this morning, and did not wish to delay,” Darcy explained to his sister. “He was on his way to Cheapside.”
Looking up, his eyes met those of Elizabeth Bennet, who had descended the stairs more quietly behind Georgiana. Hearing Darcy’s words, her face broke into a smile that made her eyes dance like summer fires in the fields and caused the colour to rise once more in his cheeks.
Making a polite bow, Darcy swiftly excused himself to his study to deal with his correspondence.
∞∞∞
Returning by coach from an afternoon concert at the Argyll Rooms the following day, Georgiana hummed happily to herself under her breath, evidently very taken with the operatic arias that had formed the final third of the concert. Darcy smiled, glad to have brought his sister joy.
“I know what music I shall be hearing about Darcy House this week,” he commented, receiving an answering smile from Georgiana in response.
“I shall certainly play, if Miss Bennet will sing,” his sister replied.
Elizabeth Bennet laughed, her nose and eyes crinkling in a most spontaneous and appealing fashion that made Darcy simultaneously wish to look on her face and turn from it.
“I cannot pretend to rival Signora Manfredini,” she answered, unconscious of Darcy’s gaze, “but I will do my best to keep in tune. I think I know the words to at least one of those arias.”
“You could sing the baritone part, Brother,” Georgiana enthused further to Darcy. “I believe we should not do so badly between the three of us.”
“Ah, I do not have your talents, Georgiana. I cannot sing without music, as you know,” Darcy said quickly, alarmed by the thought of standing close beside Elizabeth Bennet at the pianoforte, her light and pleasant voice mingling with his own.
“Nor do I know the words to any of the songs we heard today. You and Miss Bennet will do better without me.”
“Oh, then we must get the music,” replied Georgiana with a frown, not to be so easily deterred. “May I send out to Mr Redhill’s shop?”
Darcy hesitated and blinked, detecting some mild sympathy in the eyes of Elizabeth Bennet as he looked away from Georgiana and searched his mind for a way out. Likely Miss Bennet would rather not sing with him but was unable to say so.
“I shall do it,” he said at last. “Write down what you want and I will see to the order from Mr Redhill myself.” Darcy supposed that at least this way, he might delay for a day or two, hopefully allowing Georgiana’s enthusiasm to subside.
“What about the Telemann pieces?” Miss Bennet asked Georgiana, thankfully turning the conversation away from songs and on to solo pianoforte music. “Should you like to play those?”
“The fantasias? I think I have the music for all of them, although some I have never played properly,” Georgiana reflected. “We can look when we get back. I should like to learn the fast one in D minor, I think.”
“Yes, I liked that too. It did not sound so very hard, did it? Although I suppose that in expert hands, even difficult pieces might be made to sound simple.”
The two young women were still talking of pianoforte music as the carriage pulled up outside Darcy House. Darcy assisted both of them down to the pavement and then followed them up the steps.
“Three letters for you, Mr Darcy, by the afternoon post,” announced Soames as he closed the door behind the party. “They are on the sideboard.”