Chapter XXV #2
“Why are you even involved with this?” Bingley rose and began pacing. He stopped beside the window and looked out without seeing anything. “How could I possibly offer for Miss Bennet now? Her sister has run away. Half of Hertfordshire will consider the family shamed.”
“Hertfordshire is not the whole world.”
“No. Only the part in which they live.”
That answer gave Darcy pause. Hertfordshire. Earlier that morning, Miss Elizabeth had said almost the same thing – that they would never have a clean slate there.
Bingley’s voice receded as an unfamiliar thought began to take shape.
“… Miss Bennet does not deserve this. She is innocent in all of this. Damn. It is unjust that she should bear the consequences.” His voice faltered. “Miss Bennet deserves better than that.”
For several moments, Darcy said nothing. Then he spoke slowly. “I am working on a solution.” His gaze remained fixed upon the fire, though he no longer saw it.
Bingley stopped. “A solution?”
“Yes.”
“What sort of solution?”
Darcy looked towards the window.
“I do not know yet.”
That answer clearly satisfied nobody. “Darcy.”
“I cannot explain further.”
“Because there is no plan.”
“Not yet.”
Bingley stared at him. “That is infuriating.” Despite himself, Bingley’s mouth twitched.
“I am not asking you to decide today.”
“Good.”
“I am asking you to consider her.”
The room fell silent.
At length, Bingley sank back into his chair. “I shall sleep on it.”
“A wise decision.”
“And if your miraculous solution fails?”
Darcy met his gaze. “Then you will decide what matters more.”
Bingley did not ask what he meant.
***
After Bingley departed, Darcy remained standing in the study for several moments.
The conversation had not gone entirely as he had hoped. Yet neither had it gone badly. Bingley had not refused. That alone was something.
He had spoken of Jane with concern rather than embarrassment. He had spoken of her future before his own. Most importantly, he had agreed to think. Darcy knew his friend well enough to recognise its significance.
When Bingley made a decision quickly, it was often a poor one. When he reflected carefully, he usually arrived at the right conclusion.
The thought brought him some comfort. He knew he was asking a great deal of his friend. Bingley had an unmarried sister.
As did he. The reminder was not a comfortable one.
Without thought, he went to check on the girls.
He found Georgiana at her embroidery in the drawing room while Lydia sat beside her, attempting to read a book with remarkably little success.
The younger girl brightened immediately upon seeing him. “Mr. Darcy, I believe this author despises happiness.”
Darcy glanced at the volume. “It is a history book.”
“That explains everything.”
Georgiana rolled her eyes. “Mrs. Annesley thought she could improve on her knowledge of history.”
Satisfied that both ladies were content, Darcy left, telling them that he was looking forward to their recital in the evening.
He returned to his desk. Several items still awaited attention. Among them lay a report forwarded from Ramsgate. Darcy opened it absently.
The contents proved straightforward enough.
The prospective purchaser had withdrawn.
Apparently, the gentleman’s elderly grandmother had died unexpectedly.
As the principal motivation for acquiring a large seaside residence had been to move her and, therefore, his family to the seaside, the purchase was no longer considered necessary.
Darcy read the letter twice. Then a third time. His gaze drifted towards the window. Ramsgate. The house had stood empty for the last year. Not neglected; he had seen to that. But empty.
He found himself recalling its dimensions.
The property was considerably larger than most townhouses.
Two adjoining houses had been combined by a previous owner, creating a residence unusually spacious for its location.
It created larger rooms downstairs and a good number of bedchambers.
The garden behind it was equally generous by town standards, and the servants had comfortable quarters, too.
… Large enough for a family.
The thought appeared so unexpectedly that he frowned.
Large enough for the Bennets.
His fingers stilled upon the paper.
Hertfordshire was not the whole world. No. Only the part in which they lived. Earlier that morning, Elizabeth had said much the same.
They would never have a clean slate there.
At the time, he had sympathised. Now, for the first time, he wondered whether the problem might have a practical solution.
For several moments, Darcy sat motionless.
The idea was absurd. The Bennets belonged in Hertfordshire. Longbourn had been their home for generations.
And yet… Did they?
The estate would remain. Its income would remain. Mr. Bennet could continue to oversee it if he wished.
But must the family remain where every neighbour knew the scandal? Where every assembly would revive it? Where the stain of the scandal would follow them for years?
Darcy leant back slowly.
The idea was still shapeless. Half-formed.
But for the first time since he met Lydia Bennet in London, he glimpsed the outline of a future in which her sisters might not forever pay the price of her mistakes, a future where she could start anew, too.
His eyes returned to the report. Ramsgate House seemed to possess a purpose again.