21. A Righteous Anger
A Righteous Anger
“Perdition!”
Darcy could scarcely breathe such was his fury and indignation.
All this time, these three months at least, Elizabeth has thought Bingley indiscreet, but it was Bingley’s sister who was fully heedless of propriety.
As he had long known Caroline Bingley to be grasping and overly proud, it was not a revelation—particularly after her temper had turned violent at Netherfield. Does she think to force me to ally Georgiana with her brother?
He had been aware of her ambitions for Bingley and Georgiana, and while he would not have been averse to the match in the future—had either party shown the least interest—never had he detected the faintest sign from either of them.
Bingley treated Georgiana with the earnest but polite indifference of an older brother, and Georgiana, while showing pleasure in his company, seemed to value him more for the ease of his society and the insouciance he brought to their homes when he visited.
Georgiana was at least a year or two away from her first Season.
He had no wish to part with her to a husband before she was twenty.
Bingley lacked maturity, and until Miss Bingley was wed and living apart from him, Darcy would not allow the thought of his sister living within the same house as her.
Not yet a year after Ramsgate, and again my sister’s trust is abused, her reputation at risk of scheming acquaintances! It seems I must lock the doors and arm the footmen, else confine her to Pemberley till she is eighteen, at least.
Exhaling sharply and feeling inclined to hit something, he turned and clasped the fencepost with one hand. The other stayed at his side, clenching and unclenching. “I should cut Miss Bingley, ruin her, for putting such words to paper.”
“It was a callous, desperate act, yet no one is aware of what she wrote save myself, Jane, and my aunt,” Elizabeth said. “Cruel as her words were for my sister, no one else, including Miss Darcy, can be injured by her fabrications.”
“It hardly matters. I must trust my friends and those I allow into my homes.” Studying her, her face flushed, curls pulled by the wind and hanging loosely from her bonnet, he ached at how beautiful she looked even when distraught.
“I am sorry for any part I or my sister played in creating enmity in Miss Bingley.”
“You are too generous,” Darcy said. “You defend her?”
“No, my concern is for your friendship with Mr Bingley. A man who may, on occasion, be foolish or rash but is not the worst of men, as I had thought,” Elizabeth said, shrugging.
“I do not mean you should encourage him to call upon Jane nor give him any hope. She was fond of him—as in love as I had ever seen her—but his absence hurt her, which I admittedly did little to assuage.”
“After what you said to me yesterday, I began to write to tell him that I had learnt your sister is in London. But to wish his sister onto yours? After the slanders and lies she has written? And perhaps told others?” He shook his head. “No, I am glad to say I threw the letter into the fire.”
With that, he recalled Georgiana’s letter, recounting the calls and diversions provided these past weeks by Bingley and his sisters—and her particular delight in his company.
When had Bingley ever before joined his sisters in calling on Georgiana?
When has he ever been in her company without me being present?
Bingley! Do you, too, play a role in this farce?
“Mr Darcy? Are you well?”
Elizabeth’s voice, full of concern, broke into his thoughts.
He gazed down to find her expression troubled, watching him worriedly.
Her hands were entwined, the left tugging at the fingertips on the other hand’s gloves.
Fighting the urge to reach for them, Darcy said, “Um, yes. Your sister… you assure me she has no wish to renew Mr Bingley’s acquaintance? ”
“No. Mistaken though I was about Mr Bingley’s character, Jane and the remainder of my family are happy to discontinue any connexion to him or his family. He may not be the villain Mr Wickham is, but he did leave without so much as a farewell to anyone or even notice to his servants.”
As did I.
Nodding, he hurriedly, if reluctantly, excused himself after leading Elizabeth back to the spot where they had met. He could barely speak more than a polite goodbye, his mind spinning so wildly with worry.
The months after the events at Ramsgate had only heightened Darcy’s worries for his sweet but painfully shy sister.
Bingley’s warmth and friendliness and happy joviality had made him a favourite of Georgiana’s.
His company, like Fitzwilliam’s, was always welcome and allowed for an informality he knew his sister craved.
In their absence from town, had Bingley been encouraged to see to Georgiana’s happiness? Who had encouraged him?
And yet, Bingley already had a new angel.
Would his connexion to her not refute any attachment to Georgiana?
Had not Hadley alluded to a new lady distracting him from his attentions to Georgiana?
Darcy’s steps slowed as Hadley’s words came back to him.
He tried to warn me! Had Miss Bingley been public with her slanderous hopes?
Had more than Elizabeth and her sister and aunt been privy to her letters?
If Hadley’s sisters had heard, who else knew of it?
Devil take it!
Anger surged within him, and Darcy inwardly grumbled at how quickly many in the ton were to spread what they called ‘news’ without bothering to discover its veracity.
However much the gossip had spread, Georgiana was vulnerable. She is incapable of rebuffing the vigorous zeal of the Bingleys.
He must be in town to manage the situation and to shield her and her reputation from further injury. First, however, he would send instructions to Darcy House to turn away the Bingleys and Hursts and a note to Mrs Annesley to ensure his sister declined their invitations.
Darcy stormed into the house, unmindful of anything but reaching his rooms and his writing desk.
Perhaps it was his uncharacteristic cursing or the loud tread of his boots on the stairs that caught Fitzwilliam’s ear, for only moments later, his cousin burst into the corridor and stopped him only two doors from his chambers.
“You disappear last night, abandoning me to the wrath of our aunt and the idiocies of her parson, and leave me to breakfast alone as well?” Fitzwilliam’s red-faced bluster seemed a bit exaggerated to Darcy, certainly far less serious than Caroline Bingley’s traitorous schemes or a battlefield skirmish.
“Your desertion is not the worst of it,” said Fitzwilliam. “You have rankled my dear mama, who sent me an express demanding to know whether you have received her most recent letter—an accusation which infuriated Lady Catherine, who feels the gesture is an insult to her household.”
“Lady Catherine should do more than feel the insult, she should learn why the post goes astray so often in her house—or never arrives at all,” Darcy said, rubbing his eyes before wondering at the reason for such high emotions. “Lady Matlock’s letter? Is it the babe?”
Fitzwilliam shook his head. “Something about your friend Bingley. The man is so far beneath her notice that unless you gave him free rein of Darcy House, I cannot imagine why Mama asked after him.”
Darcy strode rapidly to his room, cursing his reluctance to open Lady Matlock’s missive.
After yanking open the drawer into which he had tossed it, he found his aunt’s letter.
It was short and to the point, without the expected mention of a young lady he must meet or which ball he must attend.
No, she was furious, and with good reason.
I have done my best to put down scurrilous rumours that Georgiana would soon be engaged to that tradesman you call a friend.
Imagine—a man in trade! She, a girl of scarcely sixteen, the niece of an earl—tied to a man whose fortune came from sailcloth!
He may be your little project, but his sisters are vulgar mushrooms!
You know of my present need to be in Surrey.
This horrid speculation was made known to me through the kind attentions of Lady Dalburton, who wrote to me after overhearing a young lady ask another whether ‘Miss Darcy’s nuptials would be put off so that she might first have a Season’.
You cannot fathom my indignation. I know not where such black-hearted gossip arose, nor even if Georgiana is aware of her name being bandied about—I fear alarming the dear girl.
Although she is too delicate and too young to be near a birthing room, and I can offer her little attention, you must send her and her companion to me and then discover the name of the blackguard passing around such mendacious falsehoods before the earl sets his dogs on them.
Cursing anew as he crumpled the letter, Darcy thrust the letter at his cousin and proceeded to tell him of what he had learnt from Elizabeth.
Fitzwilliam’s outrage nearly matched his own, but Darcy requested he remain at Rosings to collect any further post and ensure Lady Catherine learnt nothing of the events.
After collecting a promise from his cousin to inform Elizabeth of his reasons for leaving so hastily, Darcy called for his valet.
Dawn’s light be damned, he would ride to town immediately. He had nearly failed his sister before by neglecting to think she could fall victim to Wickham. This time, because he had ignored the warnings in Hadley’s and the countess’s letters, any damage to her reputation would be entirely his fault.
And Miss Bingley’s!