CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Mr. Bingley immediately returned to his house in London, though it was not his wish to remain there long. He was overjoyed to receive word that his friend Darcy, along with their entire party—his sisters and Mr. Hurst included, though Miss Darcy would remain in place at the estate with Mrs. Annesley—had left the north and were expected in town the following day. Bingley directed Wilshere to draw up plans for their imminent departure for Netherfield Park and to inform his housekeeper that it should be prepared in such a way that he might stay comfortably for some time. His intent was to spend as many days hunting as possible, when he was not in Miss Bennet’s presence, as to prevent him from mindlessly walking the home’s various halls. Mr. Gallagher was dismissed to see his family in Grantley Village, though he was considering an offer to relocate to London and open his own cobbler shop—his main investor being Mr. Bingley. Off to Birmingham was Mr. Maitland, with Mr. Trippier’s coffer of three hundred pounds for the support of the Yates family, though he had requested, and was granted, leave to visit at Netherfield Park after a fortnight.
To Bingley’s dismay, Darcy refused to leave for Meryton on the morning of Bingley’s departure, having just arrived in London the previous evening, himself. Darcy informed his friend of several matters of business that demanded his attention, but was positive that they could be resolved with a few days’ time. In a most excitable manner, Bingley demanded assurances that Darcy would join him in Hertfordshire at his earliest possible convenience. Having satisfied his friend’s want of a guarantee, the two men bowed and smiled at each other before Bingley departed for the country in his coach alongside his steward. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had resolved to linger in town, in part due to the continued recovery of Mr. Hurst from his illness, but also because, in their time in Derbyshire they dearly pined for both the luxuries and those frivolities furnished by the city.
Though he had much success out of doors, Bingley found himself anxiously awaiting word of Darcy’s arrival, as he felt it would be imprudent and, perhaps even foolhardy, for him to make an appearance at Longbourn alone. While he dined on duck the second evening, he received word that Darcy’s business in town had been resolved earlier than anticipated and that he planned to arrive in Hertfordshire the following morning at half past ten.
As the coachman guided the horses through Netherfield Park’s front gate and up the drive, Darcy could only chuckle to himself at the sight before him: Mr. Bingley, dressed and dapper, astride the ever-splendid horse Quinton, alongside a saddled horse which he naturally supposed was meant for him.
“May I not refresh myself a moment?” Darcy called as the footman opened the carriage door.
“Quickly, man,” Bingley hollered, back in the direction of the house. “Some water and towels, and a hunk of bread!”
“And I am to eat as we ride?”
“Or you can wait and eat later,” countered Bingley.
Darcy laughed as he approached his mounted companion. “For God’s sake, give me ten minutes to don my riding boots and more appropriate attire.”
“Ten minutes?”
“Yes, ten minutes—but I must know, for what purpose is the frenetic hurry? —Is the house to be levelled at noon?”
“Darcy,” Bingley swallowed a lump as he began. “You of all people must know that I have awaited this moment as if it were a lifetime, or even two , in the making—”
“All right, well if it must be now , allow me ten minutes.”
Bingley nodded from his saddle as Darcy climbed the steps and entered the house, his footmen, as well as one of Bingley’s, quickly toting his trunks inside. When his man, Ridley, brought out the items he had required, Bingley himself used the towel to wipe down his beaded brow, and instructed the horses to be given the water to drink. More as a way to distract his quickened thoughts than out of actual hunger, he gnawed on the half-loaf of bread with vigour. Eventually Darcy emerged from the house, mounted his waiting steed, and the two men set off for Longbourn. They had passed through Meryton and were coming down the lane beside the church when a thought suddenly dawned on Bingley: “Darcy?”
“Yes?”
“Pardon me if I have not taken heed of your feelings on the matter of accompanying me on this call.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“In my reverie and anxious expectation of seeing Miss Bennet,” professed Bingley with great care in his words. “I seem to have neglected to take into account what your feelings may be about seeing Miss Elizabeth Bennet, or her family entirely, for that matter.”
“You have no need to ask my pardon,” Darcy explained. “As far as my feelings are concerned, I shall take great delight in Miss Elizabeth’s presence—though, perhaps the same could not be said for her in my proximity. I imagine, however, any such lingering distaste she may have toward me will give way to the delight of seeing you and her sister in the same room once more.”
“Thank you,” Bingley answered. “Though after all this time, I confess, my mind is not at all at ease concerning whether she will even be happy to see me . I would not blame her at all—”
“Cease with such thoughts, Charles. We have arrived, and the moment for which you have long pined has arrived with us.”
The visit between the two gentlemen and the ladies of Longbourn has been described and in quite astonishing fashion in another source hitherto, so that nothing of consequence might be added, save that neither Darcy nor Bingley left the house with any particular affirmations of the feelings of Jane and Elizabeth toward them. They both endured Mrs. Bennet’s tiresome declamations with what measure of grace and civility they could command and were engaged to call upon the Bennet family once more. It should be noted that the renewal of acquaintance had only fostered heightened admiration for the sisters. However, the gentlemen’s continued turmoil over the state of the sisters’ fondness toward them was such that they very nearly bumped into each other whilst roaming the halls of Netherfield after midnight that evening. It should also be remarked that Mr. Bingley’s hopes were considerably more robust than his friend’s, though during those dark hours, he had not much considered her response were he to reveal the true reasons for his absence these many months past.
The following Tuesday, the gentlemen were received once more at Longbourn, this time as a pair among a rather large assembly. Upon entering the dining room, Bingley’s thoughts were a cottage pie of decorum, nerves, and adulation. Mrs. Bennet made it patently obvious that she would have him sit next to Jane, but he dallied, as to not breech propriety and display too great a partiality to her. Miss Bennet, herself, must have felt much the same discomfort at her mother’s overt insistence that they be seated side by side, but she set his mind at ease with a glance and a smile in his direction. Just then, his eye caught Darcy’s with an expression of half-laughing alarm. Bingley’s pleasure in his seating arrangement caused his friend’s position at the table, next to none other than Mrs. Bennet, to escape his notice completely. Over the course of the meal, while Bingley and Jane conversed effortlessly and with much mirth, Darcy and Mrs. Bennet exchanged only what words were of absolute necessity, and, for her part, in a most formal manner at that.
As the evening progressed, Bingley did settle in enough to notice that Darcy and Elizabeth scarcely interacted at all, aside from briefly conversing when she served his coffee. Even though he and Miss Bennet were separated at times, his efforts to be near her when possible were more highly evident and earnest than Darcy’s to be close to Miss Elizabeth. Though Bingley had hoped to have the chance to linger longer in her aura, alas, their carriage arrived before any of the others.
The two gentlemen rode back to Netherfield in reflective silence, until Bingley inquired as to how Darcy enjoyed the evening. As it happened, Darcy endured it more than enjoyed it, though not with so much displeasure as he might have the previous autumn. Darcy was struck, once more, by the charm and beauty of Elizabeth, and despite all the fortitude he could muster, his heart remained seized between affection and despair. Being unsure of his own situation, Bingley was cautious in his encouragement, but did wish his friend’s felicity no matter the outcome.
The pair spent the following days shooting and paying casual visits to neighbours and friends alike, until Darcy had cause to return briefly to town. The evening before his departure they dined at Lucas Lodge at the invitation of Sir William Lucas, where it was clear from the exertions of Lady Lucas, that she wished the gentlemen to be well acquainted with their daughter Maria, who had recently been presented at court. Both men reacted with such courtesy and gentility as might be expected from them, whilst being most scrupulous in neither offending nor encouraging such attentions. Maria, for her part, was charming, though timid—apparently acquiescing to her mother’s demands without particular fondness for either gentleman, though if pressed, she would have most likely admitted a preference for Mr. Bingley, as he possessed the more cheerful and easy-going manner out of the two.
Once they were in the carriage and driving toward Netherfield, Darcy seemed contemplative and even anxious very suddenly. “You remember that I shall depart for town in the morning,” he said, his eyes focused out the window on the passing scenery.
“Yes, of course,” answered Bingley. “I do hope your business shall not detain you for long.”
Darcy shook his head and scratched on the window mindlessly with his forefinger. “I hope to return within ten days’ time.”
“Very well, then,” Bingley stated, watching his friend with some concern. After a moment of silence, he asked: “Is everything all right, Darcy? You seem to be in the most ruminative mood.”
“There is rather something I would have you know,” he began, turning his face to meet Bingley’s. “I have always endeavoured to be a kind and sincere friend to you, but I fear that in one regard I have failed in that effort.”
“Whatsoever do you mean?” Bingley solicited, himself feeling a dash of Darcy’s unease.
“I must have you know, first, that my intentions were largely honourable, though I cannot claim to have been as selfless as I should endeavor to be, regarding this particular matter.”
“Out with it, already, I beg you.”
“Miss Jane Bennet was in town for the better part of the winter.”
“She was ?” Bingley blurted.
“Yes, she was. I was aware of her presence and yet concealed it from you, and for that, I am very sorry. I should not have interfered—”
“You kept me in ignorance of her being in London intentionally ?”
“I am ashamed of it, but yes,” said Darcy. It was now Bingley’s turn to stare out at the passing village. “Initially I did entertain designs of keeping her separated from you altogether. It was foolish and selfish of me, I freely confess. I found my own feelings about Miss Elizabeth Bennet in conflict with my pride, and I allowed myself the delusion that in acting on what I quite callously deemed to be your best interest, that I would therefore serve my own best interest and soon forget—alas, it seems ludicrous to describe my own state of mind at that time: that it was remotely possible to forget Miss Elizabeth.”
Bingley turned back and glowered at his friend. “I hope you will not take great offense at this, but Darcy, you can be a pompous ass at times.”
The verve and manner with which the pronouncement was declared was such that it forced a laugh from Darcy. “No offense taken, Charles. I freely admit it, though I hope that you will allow me one more word on the subject, and secondly, that you might indulge me in the hope that I might change my ways.”
Bingley inhaled and then exhaled sharply, casting a wry smile toward his friend. “I will allow it.”
“I thank you,” replied Darcy. “The second reason for my action this winter was, in many respects, more noble than the first. As I began to realize the depth of your affections for Miss Jane Bennet, and the futility of my own struggle concerning my feelings of attachment toward her sister, I did not disclose Miss Bennet’s presence in town because I wished not to distract you from your duty. As you might recall, during that time in London, you were in the thick of your pursuit of Lord St. John, and as much as I grew to wish your happiness, I knew that you could not attain it until your work was complete. My concern was that were you to be distracted by her presence, you might not fulfil the task before you, and in not doing so, you would be haunted all your life by regret.” Bingley nodded and forced a half smile. “I do hope you will take this consideration seriously in your judgement of my actions. I do also hope you will accept my sincerest apology.”
“Of course, Darcy,” Bingley exhaled. “I have always relied on your judgement, and you have never ceased being my most trusted friend.”
“Then will you allow me one further unsolicited interference in your affairs?” Darcy asked.
“I shall,” came the reply as the coach entered Netherfield Park. “ One more .”
“You should settle this matter with haste and ask for Miss Bennet’s hand.”
“I should?” Bingley returned with excitement.
“And as soon as possible.”
“Tomorrow then?”
“I see no reason to hesitate.”
“And do you believe she will accept me? —That she loves me?”
Darcy shrugged. “I cannot, of course, say with absolute certainty, but knowing you as I do—your more recondite past included—I contend that she would be mad to turn you down.”
At that, Bingley leapt across the carriage and embraced Darcy tightly. After they had arrived inside, they drank together and then went off to their respective bedchambers. They were by chance joined again, however, in the midst of the night as they both wandered the halls of the great house—Darcy slogging along pensively and Bingley pacing about with all the nervous energy of a schoolboy.