Chapter Fourteen
The group had scarcely crossed the threshold before Georgiana came hurrying into the hall, drawn by the unfamiliar carriage and the sound of voices. She stopped when she saw Bingley and her face brightened immediately. "Bingley!"
"Hullo, little Georgie."
Georgiana laughed and went straight to him, allowing him to take both her hands before her eyes settled on the elegant young woman standing at his side. She smiled shyly at Jane, who returned the gesture with a smile of her own.
Darcy stepped forwards. "Georgiana, may I present Mrs Bingley."
Georgiana's mouth fell open. "Mrs Bingley?"
Bingley smiled so broadly that Darcy thought his face may split in two. He grabbed his wife’s hand and kissed it noisily. "Am I not the luckiest man who ever drew breath?"
Before Georgiana could recover from that, Elizabeth came to stand beside Jane and slipped an arm through hers.
"And she is my sister." That produced an even greater reaction.
Georgiana looked from Jane to Elizabeth and back again, then clapped her hands together.
"Your sister? Oh, this is wonderful. You are both sisters and now we are all...
" She stopped, overwhelmed by the number of new connections she was attempting to calculate. "Well, nearly everything."
Jane laughed. "I think family will do."
"Yes, family." Georgiana beamed at her. "How lovely. And you have only just married? You must tell me everything. Was it terribly romantic?"
Bingley agreed. "It was extremely romantic," he said enthusiastically. "I think we might have given Romeo and Juliet a run for their money.
Jane giggled while looking at him like he had hung the moon. "I’d rather not end up like those two," she said, giving him a playful push.
Darcy could barely recognise the vivacious woman in front of him. Where was the quiet, reserved woman from Hertfordshire? The happiness came off them in waves and his heart gave a stuttering beat. Was it ever possible that he would have that with Elizabeth?
Georgiana took Jane's arm and began leading her deeper into the house, firing questions as she went. Elizabeth followed, laughing, and within moments Darcy and Bingley had been abandoned in the hall.
Bingley clapped him on the back. "Congratulations, Darcy.
Or should I say brother? Who would have thought it, eh?
I would say we are the luckiest men in England.
Come, we ought to drink to our beautiful wives, and you can tell me about your own romantic adventures.
You did not say in your letter what had rushed your nuptials so. "
Darcy turned to him as they walked through the hall. "It is a very long story."
"I gathered as much." Bingley grinned. "Mrs Bennet was having kittens, by the way. She could not decide whether to be overjoyed by the match or furious that she had been deprived of planning the wedding breakfast."
They went to Darcy's study, where he poured them each a glass and Bingley dropped into the chair opposite his desk.
"You will enjoy this," he said. "Jane left a note beneath her pillow.
That is how we announced we were to be wed much, much sooner than expected.
Mrs Bennet had assured me only the day before she needed at least six months to plan a wedding fit for her most beautiful daughter.
" He sighed dreamily and swirled the amber liquid in his glass.
"That does not at all sound like Miss… pardon me, Mrs Bingley."
"Can you imagine it? My gentle Jane, stealing away to London with a single gentleman and leaving a note beneath her pillow.
" Bingley laughed at the memory and lifted his glass.
"We were married by special licence the next day.
Cost me a pretty penny and a favour to your cousin the viscount.
But no price would have been too much to pay for the happiness she has brought me. "
"And Mr and Mrs Bennet?"
"Their letters have not caught up with us yet, but I dare say all will be well.
" Bingley took a drink. "Mrs Bennet may never forgive us for denying her two wedding breakfasts, but she has acquired another wealthy son-in-law, so I expect affection will eventually win the day.
Come now, you must tell me your own tale.
And are you as blissfully happy as we are? I do hope so, Darcy."
Darcy had intended to give Bingley some sanitised version of the events that had led to his marriage.
But looking across at his friend's open, happy countenance, the truth began to trickle out anyway.
At first he stumbled over it, pausing at intervals to try and find the right words or reach for the decanter, but once the worst of it was said the rest followed more easily.
Bingley looked shocked more than once, though he did not interrupt. By the time Darcy had finished, his glass was empty again and Bingley was staring at him with his brows raised. "But Mrs Darcy did not appear unhappy just now."
Darcy gave him a gloomy look. Three glasses of brandy and the sight of Bingley's overflowing happiness had done nothing for his spirits. "She wants to be friends."
Bingley's brows rose. "Friends?"
"Yes, friends." He spat out the word, then immediately felt guilty for it.
Elizabeth's request had been perfectly reasonable.
She had entered into a marriage she had never expected, with a man she could barely tolerate.
Friendship had seemed a sensible beginning.
Darcy would have agreed to almost anything if it made her feel safe with him.
The trouble was that he had now spent more than a week attempting to be her friend and, damn everything, it was killing him. "Every evening I wish her goodnight and go back to my own rooms when what I want is..." He stopped and rubbed a hand over his face. "I do not want to be her friend, Bingley."
"Darcy, I fear you are putting a rather bleak spin on matters."
"She asked for time. She wants to know me better before anything else happens between us."
Bingley leaned back in his chair. "That does not sound especially terrible. You have been married less than two weeks. Give it time. Although I must admit if my darling Jane kept me at arm’s length, I would be running mad."
Darcy looked into his empty glass. It sounded terrible enough to him.
What if Elizabeth came to know him properly and decided friendship suited her perfectly well?
Could you die of wanting? He was still considering that miserable possibility when the study door opened without warning and Fitzwilliam strode in, looking far too pleased with himself.
He blinked up at his cousin, wondering if the brandy was causing him to imagine things. He shook his head, but Fitzwilliam remained firmly in the room, grinning widely. He was dressed in civilian clothes rather than his usual regimentals.
"Darcy, excellent. You are here. I have news." He had taken only two steps into the room before noticing Bingley. "Bingley? What the devil are you doing here?"
Bingley lifted his glass in greeting. "Visiting my brother."
Fitzwilliam looked from Bingley to Darcy, clearly deciding he had missed something important. "Your brother?"
"By marriage," Bingley said happily. "Jane Bennet and I were married some days ago."
For once, Fitzwilliam appeared genuinely startled, but the surprise lasted only a moment before his grin returned.
"Then congratulations are in order all round.
Anne and I were married yesterday. I have resigned my commission and we are determined to be happier than any two people have any right to be.
Say, Bingley, does that make us cousins by marriage? "
Darcy lowered his forehead onto the desk.
Bingley was on his feet at once and the two men met in the middle of the study with a hearty handshake, congratulating each other noisily and extolling the virtues of their wives.
Fitzwilliam explained that news of Darcy's wedding had finally pushed matters along.
He and Anne had talked it over, secured Lady Catherine's grudging blessing and married before she could change her mind.
Fitzwilliam eventually noticed his cousin’s prone position. "Darcy?"
"Don’t mind me. I am just beset by happily married men."