Chapter 24 #2
Bingley ushered them both inside, where Darcy’s butler and housekeeper waited. Their eyes widened in surprise, but they stayed silent while Bingley said to Elizabeth, “This is Stanford, and this is Mrs White. They will see to your comfort while I speak with Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth smiled prettily, squeezed Darcy’s hand, and followed the housekeeper into a drawing room.
Darcy strode to the study, and he took the chair behind the desk.
As Bingley had said, it was, after all, his study.
He steepled his fingers as Bingley locked the door, shook his head to the bottle of brandy Bingley had lifted suggestively, and waited until Bingley sat down in a chair facing him.
Bingley gulped a generous swallow of brandy.
“Please explain,” Darcy said.
“Well, you see, I…my wife…I recently married Eleanor Knightsbridge. It was that or face her father in a field…and everyone assured me that I would not survive that. He chose this leasehold for us, chose our false names, and determined that we would stay here until the child is at least one year old. That way….”
Darcy allowed Bingley’s suggestive sentence to remain almost entirely unstated. It was a very typical sort of sentence, Darcy was certain. It would have gone something like this: that way fewer people would realise that the bride had been with child at the time of the wedding.
Bingley finally explained a bit more: “When we return to England, more than a year and a half from now, we will resume the name Bingley.”
“Is it actually your child?” Darcy asked.
Bingley just stared at him for a moment. Then he shook his head and even smiled ruefully. “I doubt it. You are just too intelligent, Darce. That you should so easily come up with this question that took me several weeks to even imagine!”
“Do you not remember that I warned you of the ‘solution’ some fathers attempt when someone unsuitable has impregnated their daughters? They find someone whose colouring is similar to the biological father and whose fortune is suitable—but, even more importantly, someone who can be counted on to respond to flirtation, respond to the threat of a duel, allow himself to be manipulated into what the family thinks best.”
“I remember that talk now,” Bingley said, looking miserable.
“I warned you because I considered you all too likely to be chosen for such duplicity.”
“I know. I remember your warnings about being too easily led.”
“I am sorry for you, Bingley, but I cannot imagine Elizabeth feeling safe under the same roof as you. I….”
“Darcy, I am certain you saw my letter of apology, and I hope I now fully understand how objectionable I have been—not only my awful thoughts and words and actions, but my responses to you when you discovered them. I…I do not pretend that I ever deserve your forgiveness, let alone Mrs Darcy’s.
I will pack a bag and ride to the nearest inn right away, and I will instruct my wife to take her meals in her room if you do not wish to deal with her.
Then you and your wife can be comfortable here for the four days and three nights you planned on. ”
Darcy was impressed despite himself. He was about to suggest something similar, and yet his former friend had come up with the solution on his own.
He nodded. “That is acceptable, Bingley. I mean Mr Wells.”
Darcy told Elizabeth everything that Bingley had said, and she lifted her eyebrows at the irony of him being a victim of unprincipled people rather than being the worst character in the story.
She felt half convinced that Bingley’s new wife was likely a young and terrified victim, doing what her father told her to do because she believed she had to in order to survive.
“She could be a conniving mastermind that manipulated both Bingley and her own father,” Darcy suggested.
“Maybe. But let us ask Mrs Wells to take meals with us. Maybe we can judge her better if we meet her?”
He certainly agreed with that, and he listened as she asked a servant to let “Mrs Wells” know she was welcome to take meals with them and to be in any public room at any time.
A few hours later, Mrs Wells joined them in the drawing room.
She was a pretty lady, blonde like Jane, very soft-spoken like Jane, but somehow seeming to lack something, some strength, that Darcy recognised in his newly-acquired sister.
However, he seemed to remember only seeing Jane’s strength after knowing her for some time, so he very much hoped that this lady had hidden reserves of strength as well.
He could not tell that she was with child, although the style of fashionable gowns did tend to hide waists.
After dinner, Elizabeth met with Darcy in the study. She said, “Now that I have met ‘Mrs Wells,’ I am inclined to believe she is more victim than mastermind. What do you think?”
“I agree with you, but who knows? Neither of us judged Bingley correctly….”
“True. But I believe he may be growing up a bit now,” she said.
“Again, I agree; it may be more hope than reality, but I truly do hope that he is maturing.”
“Even if a bit too late.”
“Perhaps.” He saw that Elizabeth was looking a bit pensive; he knew that she often ended up sympathising even with those who have done her wrong.
Hoping to see another smile, he said, “But perhaps they can be the making of each other. And whoever this child is, perhaps she or he can move one or both of them to become better versions of themselves.”
“That, my dear, is why I rather like you. You move me to strive to be the best version of myself.”
“I am convinced you were born the best version of yourself, but I will not argue with you. Also, I rather like you, too. As in rather an immense amount. Let me just show you, dearest.”
It turned out, it was quite an immense amount….