Chapter Fourteen #2
You wrote to me that you meant to remain in Somerset only a short while and expected to return before very long, so I hope you will consent to spend a month with me at Netherfield once you are at liberty.
The society will be entirely new to me, and though I look forward to making acquaintances, I confess I should be glad of one familiar face amongst them.
Caroline and Louisa mean to accompany me, as does Hurst, so you shall not want for company even should you grow tired of mine.
I would have proposed that we travel together, but I have no notion when you intend to quit Somerset, nor whether Pemberley will claim you first. I leave for Hertfordshire on the seventh of October.
If this reaches you before then and you are able to reply, do so.
Otherwise, direct your answer to Netherfield, and I shall receive it there.
Yours etc.,
Bingley
Darcy ran a hand through his hair as he lowered the letter slowly.
Netherfield Park. Hertfordshire.
He knew nothing of the estate. Under any other circumstances Bingley's news would have pleased him, and the invitation would have required no more consideration than whether Georgiana needed him in London or if he was to return to Pemberley.
Yet Bingley had contrived, without knowing it, to place himself in the one county whose name had occupied Darcy's thoughts for weeks.
His eyes returned to Elizabeth's letter.
Longbourn, Hertfordshire.
The coincidence was extraordinary.
Darcy stood and walked slowly to the window.
Bingley's letter still in one hand and Elizabeth's in the other.
Beyond the glass lay the same quiet timberland he had looked upon every day since August. He had come to Willowbrook seeking solitude, and in that solitude had discovered a woman he had never seen.
Until this morning there had been something almost safe in the impossibility of their acquaintance.
Elizabeth existed in another county, within a family unknown to him, writing words never intended for his eyes.
Whatever interest he felt could remain confined to paper.
Now Bingley had taken a house in Hertfordshire.
Darcy looked again at the two letters.
He did not know where Netherfield stood in relation to Longbourn.
Hertfordshire was a county, not a village, and there was every possibility that the two estates lay many miles apart.
Even if they did not, there was no reason to suppose Bingley's new acquaintance would include the Bennets.
No reason to suppose Darcy, should he accept the invitation, would ever encounter Elizabeth at all.
And yet, for the first time since he had broken the seal upon that first misdirected letter, Elizabeth Bennet was no longer merely somewhere beyond his reach.
She was in Hertfordshire.
And Bingley had just invited him there.
~
Darcy slept badly that night. Whenever he woke, which was often, his thoughts returned to Bingley's invitation and to the one circumstance which had made an otherwise ordinary visit require so much consideration.
There was nothing remarkable in accepting it.
His business at Willowbrook required no further attention, he had always intended his stay in Somerset to be temporary, and Bingley was his closest friend.
Had Netherfield been in almost any other county, Darcy would have given his answer without a second thought.
But Netherfield was in Hertfordshire, and he knew very well that this altered everything.
By morning, Darcy had grown impatient with his own deliberations.
Despite having spent much of the night attempting to deny it, he wished to meet Elizabeth Bennet.
There was little purpose in continuing to disguise the fact from himself, particularly when admitting it altered nothing of what propriety required.
He would not seek out Longbourn merely because he knew its name, nor contrive an introduction which would not otherwise have occurred.
He would go to Netherfield as Bingley's guest and enter the society of the neighbourhood in the ordinary manner.
If Elizabeth belonged to that society, then perhaps they would meet.
The possibility pleased him rather more than it ought.
There remained only the question of when he should leave.
Elizabeth's letter had arrived the previous day after an absence of nearly a month, and Darcy was reluctant to quit Willowbrook when another might follow within the week.
Her silence had been explained, and, more importantly, she had plainly declared her intention of writing again.
Before that interruption, her letters had arrived with tolerable regularity, often little more than a week apart.
Darcy therefore had every reason to suppose another might reach Willowbrook within the next several days.
He found himself unwilling to leave before it did.
The notion of being somewhere upon the road to Hertfordshire while another letter addressed to Julia Harding arrived behind him was peculiarly vexing.
A few days could make little difference to Bingley, who would scarcely have settled into Netherfield before Darcy joined him, and Darcy could afford to wait.
The admission was not especially flattering to his self-command.
Darcy therefore instructed his valet after breakfast to begin preparations for their departure, though without fixing the day. He would remain at Willowbrook a little longer, perhaps until the sixth or seventh, and then set out for Hertfordshire whether another letter had come or not.
Having settled the matter, he sat down to answer Bingley.
My dear Bingley,
I am very glad to accept your invitation to Netherfield. I have a few matters remaining in Somerset which I should prefer to settle before I leave, but expect to set out sometime within the coming week. You may therefore look for me not many days after your own arrival.
Yours,
Darcy
He sanded the note and rang for a servant.