Chapter Nine #3
“I doubt that very much. I find your being here under such pretenses perfectly disgraceful; I wonder you could have imagined otherwise,” he told Bingley with a tone of warning.
“William, you must hear him out. There is much good in cousin Darcy; he has told me of his dedication to his poor, ailing friend Mr. Bunbury – is it not a mark of goodness, to show such devotion to an invalid?”
“Precisely; poor Bunbury is surely not long for this world, and I am rather in need of cheering,” Bingley said.
“Forgive me for thinking you could all be enlivened, too, with good company. I had an uncanny presentiment that you would return from London out of sorts, and I thought to myself, I might bring one of the most amusing parts of London to your door – myself. But do scold me as much as you like; we shall consider it part of my transformation. After all, it is better than being dead… of sudden apoplexy.”
“Your transformation!”
Kitty bounced on her toes beside him, fairly shoving William toward Bingley, “Oh, do shake hands with him! We might be far merrier than usual together if you are reconciled with cousin Darcy.”
William had no wish to make a scene, so he begrudgingly shook hands with Bingley. Mr. Chasuble and Miss Annesley both sighed with relief, and the butler and housekeeper attempted to look busy with their provisions for Duchess and her kittens.
“Kitty, I shall speak with you later; I believe it is time you resume your lessons. Miss Annesley, if you would take Kitty back inside.” To Bingley, he curtly said, “Walk with me.”
Bingley nodded and fell into step beside William, who led him toward a gravel track that ran along the stream, where they might speak without being overheard from the manor.
“Bingley, what on earth has possessed you to come here under such pretenses? You can hardly expect me to allow it. I know we have our japes and larks together in London, but I have deliberately kept all that distinctly separate from my life at Wildewood. This is my real life, and I cannot have you make a muck of it!”
“I do not see how I have done anything of the kind,” Bingley replied with a playful shrug.
“Well, I cannot tolerate anybody charming my ward with lies and chicanery.”
“I only wanted to meet her – I was curious. Anyhow, you and Richard have had your grand romances in London, and nobody at all fancied me, the whole six weeks together! Besides, you have not yet told Miss Elizabeth the truth, have you?”
“No, I have not, and it is a torment to me! I would not have you make such a shameful beginning with Kitty, or anybody else for that matter. I would not have you make any beginning with Kitty, in fact, for she is the nearest thing I have to family, and I will not allow her to be corrupted by your shenanigans. You must go, Bingley.”
“If that is what you really want, I suppose I shall, but you know she will be cross with you for sending me away. She likes me, and I think she is a delight! We have rather bonded over tending to those kittens; it is like we have had a baby together, too coo over and boast of to anybody who will listen.”
William nearly stumbled into the stream. “You will most certainly not be having a baby with my one and only ward, you idiotic disaster!”
Bingley shrugged again. “How did you fare in London, after I departed? I was rather sorry to abandon you to Caroline and the Hursts. Have you had any luck in your search for a parent or two?”
“None at all. But wait – how did you know I would not be right behind you? I was meant to leave the same day you told Mrs. Hurst that Bunbury required your immediate presence.” William scowled as the realization struck him. “Good God, did you tamper with my carriage to delay my return?”
Bingley screwed up his face for a moment, but then recovered himself.
“It is a pity you could not discover anything of your origins, but then you did say you hoped you might uncover something useful here at home. Perhaps some local records, or you may ask in Guildford. Come to think of it, it may be useful for you to have assistance in the matter. I cannot spend all day reveling in the many charms of Miss Cardew, for I am too much of a gentleman to interfere in her studies. I could help you in your own quest for knowledge.”
As William recalled how many desperate hours he had devoted to his search in London, he realized he would be wise to accept the offer of assistance. He had little to go off of, other than a small token that had been affixed to the handbag in which he was found, which bore the letter W.
“I would not object to your aid, if the office is sincere. But you must cease making love to Kitty, unless you mean to tell her the truth.”
“Just as you have done with Miss Elizabeth, I shall confess the truth of my identity when the time is right – one cannot just blurt such things out. It is a matter of some delicacy.”
William gave his friend a hard look, for the reminder of his own failing rankled him. “I insist. You have two days, Bingley.” This time, it was William who extended his hand, and his friend shook it warmly.