Chapter 9
Darcy
Darcy met with his attorneys, first alone and then at the hospital and with Richard and Miss Garrett.
The land steward of the estate that had been chosen had arrived in London late in the afternoon and met with them.
After dealing with paperwork and the detailed requirements for two days, one of the attorneys opined that he had never seen a more efficient transfer of ownership.
When they were done, and Darcy and his cousin celebrated with a small glass of ale, Richard reported that Miss Garrett was shocked at the impact one man could have on her life in only a matter of a few days.
Darcy nodded, saying, “Well, I should hope that the man a lady marries would have an outsized impact on her life.”
Smiling slyly, Richard said, “Yes, but you see, Cordelia meant you!
I was certain I would somehow find a way to marry her, but she was equally positive I would not.
When you chased after her that day, she said you sounded so sure of yourself, but she doubted you, too.
Cordelia pointed out to me that she had lived in the world for almost eight and twenty years, and she knew how it worked.
She was positive that these confident men—she called us blustering, not confident, by the way—would eventually give up, beaten, and yet there she would still be, working at patching up soldiers in the endless wars that confident men somehow contrived to wage.
“Cordelia was quite amazed that you did what you said, and that meant that I could do what I said, and just a few days later her entire prospects are dramatically different than what she had ever imagined. In my opinion, my intended gives you maybe a bit too much credit, but you deserve quite a lot of it, so I am not opposed to her version.”
Darcy just shook his head, the corners of his lips turned up in a bemused sort of smile. “Well, you are a national hero as well as my favourite cousin and best friend. I believe that helping you out is entirely warranted, given all that you are.”
Paling, Richard said, “No—no, you can never give me such compliments, Darce. You know better. I can never change what happened, but you must know that how I behaved to you and Elizabeth is the biggest regret of my life. I am so very humbled that you both forgave me.”
Flushing, Darcy cleared his throat, casting about for a way to change the subject. “Here comes your beloved Miss Garrett. Let us say no more on that subject.”
Richard waited a few moments, then greeted Miss Garrett with quite an extravagant show of kissing her cheek, and finally said to Darcy, “I said not long ago that I had taken notice of your habits and behaviours, and that I meant to emulate you. I have striven to do so ever since. One thing I noted was that you and Miss Bennet spoke openly and honestly about everything, even topics quite shocking to discuss with a maiden. In order to follow my promise to strive to be more honourable, more like you, I told Cordelia everything about my life before her. Madame Bertin’s, Elizabeth Bennet, a shameful punch to the gut when offered a handshake—everything. ”
Miss Garrett looked at Richard with every evidence of affection, but then she contracted her brow and said, “Everything except, perhaps, that you neglected to take your tonic this morning.”
Laughing, Richard said, “I cannot be too perfect regarding taking my medicines and completing my gymnasticks, because then you will not fuss over me!”
“And if I promise to always fuss over you?” The words might have been flirtatious, but somehow Miss Garrett managed to sound like a firm, no-nonsense governess or, perhaps, a brigadier-general, and Darcy could see how much Richard loved that about her.
He stood up. “Richard, I believe the final papers will be ready for my signature tomorrow morning. And thus I believe that Georgiana and I will be ready to return to Hertfordshire, and to Elizabeth, directly after that is complete. You will be able to reach me, of course; I will send word if I go anywhere other than Netherfield Park before the wedding and Darcy House after. Elizabeth and I will come and visit a few days after the wedding.”
“Do not hurry yourself out of your honeymoon nest to come to me so soon. Two or three weeks will suffice.”
“At any rate, I will see you tomorrow morning. Miss Garrett, always a pleasure.”
Darcy briefly squeezed the hand of his cousin’s intended, and then he left, feeling incredibly eager to be on the road, hurrying towards Elizabeth.
But of course he had to wait for the finalisation of the sale the next morning.
Still, Darcy looked forward to arriving at Darcy House, where he could contemplate what it would be like to be in his “honeymoon nest,” a phrase Richard had tossed out carelessly but which inflamed Darcy’s imagination in a decidedly… cosy direction.
At Darcy House, he rifled through the afternoon post, sorting the letters into piles. One letter had been sent from Netherfield Park. It was not likely from Bingley, and written by his new secretary, because, though legible, it was written in a crabbed hand.
He opened the letter and immediately glanced to the end, only to discover that the missive had been sent by Hurst.
That was surprising and a bit concerning. Had something happened to Bingley? He quickly read the entire note:
Dear Sir,
I would like to write that I do not mean to alarm you, but I am afraid that my goal in writing you this note is, entirely, to raise an alarm.
I cannot pretend to have known Bingley nearly as long nor as well as you, but I feel that I see him clearly, his faults as well as his strengths.
And I must say that I am concerned about his regard for your Miss Elizabeth.
I saw right away that Bingley greatly admired Miss Elizabeth; but anyone who knows her must admire her, and if that anyone is a young man, naturally he would admire her person as well as her intelligence, character, and charm. All of that is a given.
However, I have lately seen him looking at her in such a way that I have become worried.
Your intended is a very warm person, and I have heard from my wife that Miss Elizabeth believes that Bingley will shortly be her brother—my wife, indeed, believes the same, although I admit that I am not as certain as they—and I have seen that her warm and friendly attitude towards Bingley has become slightly warmer and more friendly, as she feels more and more certain that he will marry her sister and thus become family.
I want to state directly that there is nothing Miss Elizabeth has done or said that could possibly be taken as flirtation by any reasonable person.
But the change in Bingley’s attitude towards Miss Elizabeth makes me fear that he somehow has wholly misinterpreted her familial warmth as flirtation; if I am correct, the resulting conclusion is that he is not, in fact, a reasonable person.
I write in friendliness, wishing to warn you and perhaps to suggest that you return to Netherfield as soon as you are able.
I have been apprised that Colonel Fitzwilliam is mending, and of course I understand that your business in London is of the greatest importance.
Until you arrive back here, I am determined that my wife and I will ensure that Miss Elizabeth is never alone with my brother.
Your humble servant, G. Hurst
A surge of emotions had been swelling from the first paragraph on, and at the close of the note from Hurst, it was difficult to sort all of what he felt.
Certainly there was confusion and doubt—it seemed almost impossible that Hurst was correct about Bingley’s attitude towards Elizabeth.
There was also anxiety, anger, and even a firm assurance that Elizabeth would not allow Bingley to importune her.
She had a great deal of strength of will, and strength of character, whereas Bingley seemed weak in several crucial ways.
And Hurst said he would look out for her.
But still, Darcy felt an overwhelming need to protect Elizabeth.
He swiftly wrote a note to Elizabeth, warning her in plain language not to trust Bingley, never to be alone with him, and promising her safety in the form of two footmen who would be happy to play the part of personal guards.
He further penned a note to Mr Bennet explaining in bald terms his aim to protect Elizabeth against a suspected threat.
He sent the notes and the guards immediately to Longbourn with the instruction that, if Miss Elizabeth was not currently there, they should leave the note for Mr Bennet and proceed to the location given for Miss Elizabeth.
Then Darcy gave orders that he and Georgiana would be ready to travel at first light, on the morrow, and he sent word to the solicitor in charge of the paperwork he was to sign that a matter of great importance had come up, and he felt it imperative to urge that the paperwork signing take place at the very earliest opportunity.
Darcy did not sleep that night. Every time he tried to lay down and close his eyes, he pictured Bingley being his usual self—smiling infectiously, saying all the right and kind words, being eager to dance and eager to walk out and eager to converse—but with those attentions bent towards Elizabeth, Bingley’s much-praised friendliness looked disturbing, almost sinister.
Those mental pictures, that ever-present worry, caused Darcy to open his eyes just a few seconds after closing them; he fairly leapt from his bed in order to resume pacing through his room or fuming at the window.
She will be well. Bingley is not a monster. Elizabeth is a strong woman. Before long, my guards will reach her.
He believed his own platitudes, he really did. But in life, there is always at least a small chance of plans going wrong, and so he did not sleep.