25. Into the Muck
Into the Muck
Darcy knocked on Bingley’s door ten minutes earlier than he had promised himself. Bingley, still in his dressing gown, gazed at him sleepily.
“Darcy! What is the urgency, sending me a note at nine o’clock last night demanding we meet here? I thought you to be in Kent. Are you well?”
“I am, though I wonder at your present condition.” He gestured at Bingley’s banyan, a silk and velvet robe in a gaudy green-and-yellow-striped pattern that hurt his eyes.
Bingley fell into a chair, yawning. “A bit of a sniffle, dashed inconvenient. Pray, I have not passed it on to your sister, have I?”
Darcy moved quickly towards Bingley, looming over him. “What did you say?”
“Miss Darcy. We have been much in company while you were in Kent, as Caroline insisted she was lonely, although I am sure my sister’s conversation wearied her…” Bingley was staring at him, quizzically. “Darcy?”
Exhaling, Darcy stepped back. “So I have heard from Georgiana. She is well, but I shall keep an eye on her health and keep her from your company.”
Bingley nodded like an amiable idiot, unmindful of the sharp tone in his visitor’s voice. Disgusted, Darcy moved to a seat near the door. The tools by the hearth would pose too much temptation should his anger rise again.
“You have not come to determine my health,” Bingley said, sneezing. “What has brought you here at this indecent hour?”
Indecent? Leave it to Bingley to think ten o’clock indecent. Attempting calm, Darcy said, “Did you know of your sister’s hopes to bring you into company with Georgiana and encourage a romantic alliance between you?”
Bingley snorted. “That is absurd. You know Caroline’s true ambitions are for your affections.
She must think a more intimate friendship with your sister would bring her closer to becoming Mrs Darcy.
” Seeing Darcy’s impatience, he held up a hand.
“Of course you would never marry her, but she has been frighteningly persistent since she was a child. Recall that story I told you of how she rid Louisa of her pet cat by pretending it attacked her?”
“I shall ask you once more. Are you aware of Miss Bingley’s intentions to create affection between you and Georgiana?”
Bingley startled, his bleary eyes growing wide. He shook his head. “Between myself and your sister? Forgive me, Darcy, but she is nearly a child!”
“Indeed. An innocent one who trusts those she knows, the friends that I, her brother and guardian, have deemed safe, benign company. The abuse of that trust is intolerable.”
It seemed the gravity of the inquisition had finally penetrated Bingley’s thick skull, for his brow furrowed in concern.
“You are my friend, and when Caroline suggested Miss Darcy was lonely whilst you were in Kent, I thought it an uncharacteristic kindness on her part to show such compassion. I assure you our time in company has been as family friends. Harmless. They played music. We strolled through the park when the weather was fine.” He rubbed his face and groaned.
“Caroline is too vain to accept your lack of interest in her, and this is how she hopes to fully connect our families? As your sister rather than as your wife? I apologise for her audacious behaviour.”
Then he smiled the ingratiating, apologetic grin Darcy had seen countless times over the years of their friendship.
At times, he had found it foolishly endearing.
No longer. Irritation rose as he saw Bingley failing once again to address his sister’s brazen conduct and the many consequences of it.
Gripping the arms of Bingley’s chair, Darcy leant towards him and gave him a cold look.
“Do you not see how she has played you for a fool? After you charmed and cried off Miss Wabshaw, you have been seen in Georgiana’s company, giving proof to the rumours begun in letters your sister wrote to Miss Bennet that declared your connexion to my sister was neatly done, with nothing left to arrange. ”
“What?”
It was fortunate Bingley was seated and had a bottle of brandy near at hand, for Darcy spent the next few minutes explaining how Caroline had discouraged Miss Bennet’s hopes by using Georgiana’s good name and pure heart.
After bemoaning the pain given to Miss Bennet, he gave Darcy a grave look. “Your dear sister has not been wounded, has she?”
“Fortunately, Georgiana knows nothing of your sister’s motives, but word of the insinuations has reached some in society—including my aunt, Lady Matlock.”
Bingley’s expression drained of anger. “I-I… Um, Darcy, I had no idea. Caroline was so eager to provide your sister amusement. I was never once alone with her. You must believe me. Oh, bollocks.” He leant across the table and grasped Darcy’s arm tight enough it seemed he might faint if he let go.
“If you demand it, I shall do the honourable thing. I shall be the best brother to you and the best husband to Miss Darcy.”
“No! Damnation, Bingley, you will not marry my sister!”
Bingley fell back into his seat. “Oh, thank goodness. I do not want her injured, but I… My heart is already given to Miss Bennet.”
Darcy repressed the urge to snort, roll his eyes, or reveal his disbelief by any other means. “Miss Bennet? I understood you were giving up Netherfield.”
“I had thought to, but I have found her again.” He smiled at Darcy, his expression taking on a wistful, preoccupied look. “She is in town with her aunt and uncle—the relations in trade? It is a charming home, and she is so beautiful—”
“And she is forgiving of your behaviour?” Darcy said sharply.
He would not stand for it, a man so irresolute he could not see he was a pawn in his sister’s machinations and who might sow confusion and once again destroy Elizabeth’s sister’s heart.
“You abandoned Netherfield, came to town, were seen escorting Miss Wabshaw, and then your sister claimed you were nearly engaged to my sister. How would a lady as demure as Miss Bennet ever believe in you?”
“She has a good heart—”
“Which you broke!”
Bingley’s face lit up. “I knew she cared for me,” he said triumphantly before vowing, “I shall fix it.”
Darcy’s exasperation grew. “You have been seen squiring at least one lady since December. Miss Bennet is a handsome lady who likely has attracted her own suitors. You are pursuing her at risk of inciting one of them to challenge you to a duel.” When he saw Bingley at last appeared uncertain—the man had never quite understood the use of metaphors or figurative speech—he asked, “Has she welcomed your company?”
“I have called twice, and she has said nothing of a suitor,” Bingley protested.
“I admit she has been even quieter than I recall in Hertfordshire, but given the pain caused her by Caroline’s prevarications…
” He muttered an oath under his breath. “Yes. I am certain that once I explain it all and regain Miss Bennet’s trust and friendship, she will accept the renewal of my affections. ”
The renewal of his affections! The disgust Darcy felt upon hearing those words could not be overstated.
There was no purpose in telling such a bottle-headed fool that his own reckless behaviour had led Elizabeth to discourage her sister’s interest in him.
Certainly, Bingley did not need to know how Darcy had learnt such information.
It could only add fire to his attempt to renew the attachment through slavish apologies and explanations.
“What of Miss Bingley, who went to such lengths to ensure Miss Bennet would abandon hope because your true affections were with my young sister?”
Bingley scowled. “I shall deal with Caroline. She will not stand in my way, nor undertake any further measures to make Jane unhappy.”
“I would not count on your sister honouring your request, but you must yield to Miss Bennet’s wishes.”
Bingley raised his chin in defiance before sitting back in his chair. “I am quite determined, Darcy. You would not be seeing me presently but that I received a note only an hour ago from her aunt, Mrs Gardiner, requesting I refrain from calling—”
“There, you see?”
“—as her niece had arrived unexpectedly.”
Darcy tensed, wondering which of the ill-behaved younger girls was in London. “Her niece?”
“Miss Elizabeth.”
Ignoring the greeting coming from within a large group of men at a card table, Darcy strode out of the building, weaving through the throngs of young cocks strutting about and waving their foils at one another in the Albany’s courtyard, each an obstacle to his impatience to gain his carriage and his solitude and to think.
Elizabeth is in town, with her sister and her aunt and uncle. Had she not another fortnight at the parsonage? What could have compelled her to abandon her visit to her friend? Did she no longer wish to remain there upon learning he had left Rosings?
Do not be a muttonhead. While it seemed Elizabeth no longer despised him, she certainly showed no signs of esteeming him—and certainly could not after the abrupt way in which he had left her following their last conversation.
More likely, it was an emergency with her relations. Perhaps Miss Bennet had written to her, upset over Bingley’s renewed attentions. But if the issue concerned someone at Longbourn, she would not remain long in town.
“Darcy,” called a familiar voice. He spun round impatiently to find an acquaintance he knew from matches at Angelo’s. Gaines, he recalled—a cocky young buck too sure of his talent with a foil.
“I have not seen you here before.” Gaines’s cheeks, so smooth it was likely he had yet to sprout whiskers, widened into a smile. “Have you come to see Bingley? I understand he is to be your brother.”
Despite the ire that rose in him, Darcy merely frowned as he feigned astonishment. “My sister, who is but sixteen, hardly out of the schoolroom, and more interested in the new foal in my stables than in marriage? Why on earth would she, the granddaughter of an earl, wed the son of a tradesman?”
Gaines looked abashed. “Carried away by youthful notions of romance, I suppose.”
“You are a gentleman,” Darcy said, stepping closer. “I had not thought you the gossiping sort. From whom did you hear such calumny? Whoever slandered my sister will pay in court!”
“My… um,” Gaines stammered, growing pale. “I doubted the news as well when my mother asked me about it. Mama has told no one herself, as she is quite a sceptical sort, especially when her friend said the news came from Bingley’s sister, the unmarried one who keeps her nose high in the air.”
“Miss Bingley should keep my sister’s name from her lips.” Darcy scowled. “I beg you and your mother do the same and repudiate any rumours you hear. Miss Darcy would be greatly affected to know others are speaking of her in such a manner.”
“Of course. I beg your pardon and can only hope to be of service in putting down such nefarious lies.” Gaines bowed and, turning back in the direction from whence he had come, hurried off.
Feeling a churlish mix of anger and anticipation, Darcy took the last few steps to his carriage.
His anger at the Bingleys was unabated, but his thoughts returned to Elizabeth.
Her relations in trade reside near Cheapside.
Dare I go there and offer my assistance should Bingley be the nuisance I suspect?
Yes, that is exactly what he would do, although he would exhibit his manners and wait for a more suitable hour to call. He would not wait too long, though, he thought, glancing at his watch. What if Elizabeth were to leave today for Hertfordshire?
Such worries consumed him for the mile to his house, where—moments after entering his chambers to inspect his appearance—an express arrived from Fitzwilliam. Upon learning the messenger had come not from Rosings but from the nearby town of Westerham, he tore it open.
Darcy,
I hope all is well with Georgiana and you have punched the smile off at least one Bingley. Things are ugly here. Lady Termagant is on a tirade, and I cannot trust any letter to reach you if sent from Rosings.
I was delayed yesterday in calling at the parsonage to deliver your message, spending too much of my day mediating a near brawl between two tenants—Coombs and Mason, as you might suspect.
When I returned to Rosings, I learnt of Lady Catherine’s extreme vexation that you had left for town.
She had taken her anger to Hunsford, where she charged Miss Bennet with conduct unbecoming a lady and expelled her from the Collinses’ home.
My aunt accused me of scheming to assist you in your ‘base stupidity and betrayal of your name in pursuing that trollop’ and has taken to her bed.
I include her vulgar insult only as a warning of her accusations.
I shall provide you the disgusting particulars of her slanders when I arrive in town tomorrow—and you will tell me the tale of whatever has occurred between you and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
RF
Darcy slammed his fist on the table. How dare she! Fury at his aunt warred with angry self-recrimination. How could he have allowed such a situation to develop—of course Lady Catherine had her spies, and the toad-eater Collins and his household clearly existed at her pleasure as well.
He leant over the table, trying to calm himself. He must go to Gracechurch Street now, to the… what was the name? Gardiner. He would beg Elizabeth’s forgiveness for Lady Catherine’s horrid behaviour and tell her that he had spoken to Bingley and warned him away from Miss Bennet.
What a bloody mess! he reflected. And he had yet to deal with Miss Bingley.