Chapter XIV
“You have betrayed me, Mr. Darcy!”
Miss Bingley’s piercing voice echoed throughout the chamber, bringing more than one wince in its wake.
Though she was nearly incoherent with fury, Darcy faced her, caring nothing for her displeasure.
Mrs. Hurst, who had arrived with her sister only moments before, appeared resigned, while Hurst was muttering something about noise and brandy.
Bingley watched the scene, his posture easy, as if he expected to derive some enjoyment from this confrontation, while Georgiana appeared impatient.
“Did I not send you to Meryton to prevent this catastrophe?” demanded the woman, too angry to pay any attention to her brother’s presence—or perhaps not caring. “It has been weeks, and now I learn that Charles has proposed to the little chit.”
“Careful, Caroline,” said Bingley, his tone infused with warning. “That woman will one day be your sister. Unless you choose to live with Louisa, you live here on my sufferance. I will not take kindly to such comments about my wife.”
“And let me correct you,” added Darcy. “You did not dispatch me to Meryton. At the time, yes, I agreed with your assessment, but I always knew the choice was your brother’s.”
“Oh yes,” exclaimed Miss Bingley, bitterness upon her offense. “Charles has proven just how capable he is of choosing in a matter that carries heavy consequences for us all.”
“Please, Caroline, continue,” said Bingley, dark amusement coloring his tone, “for I find your opinion fascinating.”
Miss Bingley only shot her brother a withering look. “This is madness, Brother. Miss Bennet can do nothing for us in society—the very notion of introducing her in town is insupportable.”
“And yet, you have no choice but to support it, Caroline, for I shall not recant.”
Darcy could almost hear the grinding of Miss Bingley’s teeth. “I shall not accept her. She will be censured and despised in London, and you will be made a laughingstock.”
“That is an impotent threat and completely beneath you, Caroline,” said Bingley.
The woman opened her mouth to respond, but Bingley did not allow it.
“If you act to sink Miss Bennet’s reputation, it will only redound upon your own head.
Whatever you may think of her, she will be my wife and will move with me in society.
I doubt you have the power to do anything other than make our family the target of gossip. ”
“You should also remember that Bingley is my friend,” said Darcy, drawing her attention back to him.
“Since I support your brother and will welcome Miss Bennet into my home, I doubt she will have any trouble finding acceptance. Her character will do the rest, for no one who meets her can fail to approve.”
“Thank you, Darcy. I cannot state my gratitude in warm enough terms.”
For the first time since she had entered the room, Miss Bingley controlled her temper, her gaze on him assessing, though with an edge of dread.
Even now, she was likely wondering what had kept him here after the failure to prevent Bingley from offering for Miss Bennet.
His comments about Miss Elizabeth and her suspicions about his sentiments must now be giving her pause.
Her next words, when she spoke them, were transparent, though not unexpected.
“If I cannot convince you, then so it must be,” said she, though grudging. “But I shall not stay here and watch you ruin our family’s standing by bestowing consequence upon those who are undeserving.”
Then in a move calculated to signal her displeasure, Miss Bingley turned to Darcy. “I apologize for what I said, Mr. Darcy, for I was overwrought.”
“Apology accepted, Miss Bingley,” said Darcy, wondering if she heard the sardonic note in his voice.
It was no surprise that she did not.
“Then we shall return to London, Mr. Darcy. Though I am disappointed in my brother’s choice, I can console myself with your company and that of your dear sister.”
“It appears you misapprehend the situation, Miss Bingley,” replied Darcy. “I have no intention of going to London—indeed, I find myself quite settled for the moment.”
“I cannot conceive why,” exclaimed Miss Bingley, though Darcy could see the sudden tension in her posture. “Since my brother is intent upon his path, there is no more reason for you to stay here.”
“There is a very good reason, Miss Bingley. Georgiana and I are comfortable here and have no wish to return to town. Your brother has invited us, and so we shall stay.”
Bingley, Darcy noted, was now watching with anticipation, though Darcy could say nothing about the merit of expecting a sister’s disappointment. Not that he would blame Bingley—Miss Bingley could try the patience of any saint.
“Let us leave this subject, Miss Bingley. You are, of course, welcome to return to town at any time of your choosing. Georgiana and I will remain at your brother’s invitation.”
“What is so important about remaining here, Mr. Darcy?” challenged she. “Do the locals’ rustic manners amuse you or is there some other reason for your desire to stay?”
“My reasons are my own,” replied Darcy. “I need not explain myself.”
Miss Bingley watched him as if trying to understand the depth of his resolve. She must not have liked what she saw, for she grimaced, though she was all congenial smiles after.
“Very well. It appears that I too must remain, for I shall not have you live in my brother’s house without a mistress of the house.”
“Your civility astounds us, Caroline,” said Mr. Bingley.
She did not deign to respond.
“You know she is suspicious,” said Bingley when they were alone a little later.
“Yes, that much I apprehended,” replied Darcy. “It will become clear the first time she sees me in company with Miss Elizabeth.”
Bingley chuckled, slapping Darcy’s back. “Then I hope you are prepared to endure her intrusion. Caroline will not take kindly to your attentions toward Miss Elizabeth and will do everything in her power to prevent it.”
“Then she would do well to reconsider,” was Darcy’s curt reply. “I will endure no more interference than you will.”
“It would be best to make that clear to her.”
“Trust me, Bingley, I shall. At the first opportunity.”
“IT SOUNDS LIKE IT WAS nothing less than a tantrum.”
Mr. Darcy, standing beside her, nodded. “That is a good description of it, Miss Elizabeth.”
Though she knew she should not, Elizabeth risked a glance at Miss Bingley, noting the woman watching them with a determined, unflinching gaze.
For once, Elizabeth was grateful for her mother’s exuberant ways; she had waylaid Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst the moment they entered the room and had not allowed them to withdraw.
Considering Miss Bingley’s opinion of them all, Elizabeth had not supposed she would allow such minor concerns as civility to keep her in check, but there it was.
“I might not have expected her to visit,” said she to Mr. Darcy, taking care to ensure Miss Bingley could not overhear. “She clearly takes no pleasure in our company and believes Longbourn is beneath her notice.”
“If she had not suspected me of having an interest in you, she might have considered better.”
Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy, curious. “As I recall, you have never mentioned the origin of Miss Bingley’s suspicions. Do you care to explain?”
Mr. Darcy shifted, appearing a little uncomfortable, but he did not demur. “It happened that first night at Lucas Lodge, not long after the assembly. Do you recall Sir William putting you forth as a desirable dance partner?”
“I do,” said Elizabeth, wondering what this had to do with anything.
“After you departed, Miss Bingley approached me.” Mr. Darcy thought about it then shook his head. “Though I do not remember her exact words, she made her disdain evident and suggested that I would not appreciate many evenings in such company.”
When Elizabeth arched a brow at him, Mr. Darcy nodded, smiled, and continued. “Yes, you are correct to suppose that I was not best pleased at the time, but my answer quite astonished her. You see, I informed her that my mind was otherwise engaged.”
“With what?” asked Elizabeth.
“Contemplating you.”
Though she knew in a general sense what he would say, it still caught her off guard. “You were thinking of me in such a manner as early as the night at Lucas Lodge?”
“I was,” said the gentleman. “As I was distracted, I did not measure my words. Again, I do not recall the exact content of my reply, but I mentioned that I was enjoying the sight of your fine eyes.”
Elizabeth could not help the giggle that escaped, though she still found it all incomprehensible. “Miss Bingley could not have appreciated that.”
“No, she did not,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “But she made some comment about how astonished she was and left me alone. It was not until later that I realized my error in judgment, especially when you stayed at Netherfield and she was barely civil to you.”
“Then the reason for her antipathy is revealed,” replied Elizabeth, shaking her head with wonder. “I cannot understand if I am more amazed by your frankness or your early interest in me when I had no notion of it.”
“If you recall, I am considered by most to be quite inscrutable—perhaps nearly as much as your sister.”
“Yes, that must be why,” teased Elizabeth.
Mr. Darcy glanced over at Miss Bingley, Elizabeth following his gaze, noting the woman’s growing agitation.
Her patience almost exhausted, Elizabeth knew it would not be long before she rose and approached them.
Mr. Darcy appeared to sense the same, for he turned to her and faced her directly; Elizabeth felt a fluttering in her stomach from both his closeness and the earnest expression on his face.
“Miss Elizabeth, I apologize, but I believe that I must speak now. Unless I am mistaken—not an unreasonable assumption—you are not ready for me to declare myself.”
“No, Mr. Darcy,” agreed Elizabeth, though she surprised herself with the pang in her heart. “It is too soon to know my heart.”