Chapter Eighty-Four
Mr. Bingley returned home in a joyful frame of mind. He whistled as he rode his horse, he threw the stable boy a shilling when he dismounted, he smiled broadly at Mr. Howard, and even beamed at Caroline, who was coming down the stairs as he entered.
“Well, what has you so happy today, Charles?” she asked, sourly.
“I have just gotten engaged to Miss Bennet!” he exclaimed. “I am to be married on the fourth of February.”
“And you did not think to speak with me first?” she demanded, hands on her hips.
“Not for even a moment,” he declared, pushing past her. “Where is Darcy?”
She shrugged and then stared after him as he walked past her, humming happily.
Mr. Bingley found his friend in the library, staring mournfully at the empty shelves. “If you plan to live here, you truly should do something about this,” Mr. Darcy informed Mr. Bingley, frowning.
“As neither Jane nor I are great readers, it is not my first priority,” Mr. Bingley replied, grinning.
“Jane? Jane? Have you something of importance to tell me, Bingley?”
“Yes; congratulate me, Darcy, for I am going to be married to the most beautiful woman in the world!”
Mr. Darcy congratulated his friend almost mechanically, his mind whirling. Miss Elizabeth was now unquestionably, unconditionally free of Bingley! But his friend was still speaking. “…and on the day we wed, I will give Mr. Bennet the three thousand pounds he requires.”
Mr. Darcy interrupted. “Wait – what? What about three thousand pounds?”
“Were you not listening, Darcy? The Bennets are in debt, and it is so very bad that they cannot buy tea or meat or – well, suffice it to say that Mr. Bennet is in desperate need of three thousand pounds to pay his debts and to see the family safe until the coming harvest.”
Mr. Darcy closed his eyes. Miss Elizabeth had been living in near poverty all this time, and he had not known! He could not bear to think of her suffering. Opening his eyes, he said, “Tell me, when is the wedding to take place?”
“The fourth of February. You will stand up with me, will you not?”
“I shall be honoured to do so, of course. But when did you plan to give Mr. Bennet the money?”
“Why, after the wedding…oh, I see.” Mr. Bingley looked briefly downcast.
“Yes; what will the family live on until then? And how will they pay for your wedding breakfast, if the situation is as dire as you say?”
“I will bring him five hundred pounds tomorrow,” Mr. Bingley said. “That should set things to rights for now. I will have to go to London to get the remaining amount out of my bank; and I shall need to have my marriage settlements written in any case.”
Mr. Darcy was relieved. Five hundred pounds would at least buy candles and put meat on the table!