Seven
Netherfield
Darcy
Bingley was in his study when Darcy returned from his ride, several papers spread before him with considerably more enthusiasm than order. Judging by the accounts and correspondence visible amongst them, they concerned either Netherfield or one of Bingley's trading interests.
He looked up at the sound of the door, his face brightening with the unmistakable relief of a man grateful for an excuse to abandon them.
"There you are. Your valet said you rode out before breakfast. Where have you been this half of the morning?"
"Riding... and walking." Darcy removed his gloves and laid them carefully upon the table before crossing to the window. "Farther than I intended, as it happens."
Bingley laughed. "Walking? You? In all the years I have known you, I have never known you to walk farther than you intended. You decide where you mean to go, then arrive there."
"I had a good deal to occupy my thoughts," Darcy replied, his eyes resting upon the park beyond the glass, though he scarcely saw it.
"At some point I thought I might order them better on foot.
I left my horse to graze when I came upon a hill some miles from here and climbed the remainder of the way. "
"And did the climb answer its purpose?" Bingley's amusement faded almost at once, replaced by the attentive expression Darcy knew so well. "Or have you returned with rather more upon your mind than when you left?"
Darcy was silent for a moment before turning from the window. "I encountered Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
Bingley's eyebrows rose. "Miss Bennet? Good heavens." He sat back in his chair, studying Darcy with open curiosity. "After last evening, I had hoped, for your sake as much as hers, that you might not meet again until the memory of that unfortunate remark had somewhat faded."
"So had I," Darcy admitted. "Instead, we met upon a path she told me she generally favoured."
"And?"
"I apologised." The words came simply enough, though the memory of the conversation still weighed upon him. "I could not leave the matter as it stood. She had done nothing to deserve my rudeness."
Bingley's features softened immediately. "That is very well done of you." He regarded Darcy another moment before adding, "Though I confess it does not entirely account for the look you are presently wearing."
"What look?"
"The one which tells me the apology was not the whole of what passed."
Darcy lowered himself into the chair opposite at last, leaning forward with his forearms resting upon his knees. He had not intended to speak of any of it, yet now that Bingley had guessed as much, concealment seemed almost pointless.
"What I said of Miss Bennet last evening," he said quietly, "was not merely ill-mannered. It was entirely false."
"I had gathered as much."
"No." Darcy shook his head. "I mean false in every particular."
Bingley waited.
Darcy let out a slow breath. "She is a very handsome woman. Indeed, she was the only lady in the room who truly engaged my notice."
For a long moment Bingley simply stared at him.
"Then why, in Heaven's name, did you declare the opposite before half of Meryton?" he said at last.
Darcy's gaze dropped briefly to the floor before returning to his friend.
"You know enough of what has befallen me these past few years, Bingley. You know of the reverses in my affairs, the whispers, the disappointments. What I have never told you is that it has not been my business concerns alone."
Bingley's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Darcy was silent for a moment, as though the words themselves resisted being spoken.
"Every woman in whom I have shown the least particular interest has, in one way or another, been removed from my life.
Some withdrew without explanation. Others suffered consequences I cannot believe were accidental.
" He paused, his expression hardening. "I have come to believe their misfortunes were visited upon them because of their connection with me. "
For several moments Bingley did not answer. His brow furrowed as he searched Darcy's face, as though hoping to discover some hint that he spoke in jest.
"You believe they were... targeted?"
"I do."
"And you have never told me this?"
"When the pattern first began to suggest itself some months ago, I dismissed it as imagination. It was not until I came to London in August that I could no longer persuade myself it was merely coincidence."
“How many ladies formed this pattern?”
“Two.”
"Oh, Darcy," Bingley said with a faint chuckle, "two ladies changing their minds is hardly evidence of some malicious design."
Darcy shook his head. "You do not yet see the whole of it.
Set those disappointments beside the investment ventures that have failed these past five years, the accidents upon my estates, the rumours that have spread through London about me, the men I had thought my friends who quietly withdrew, and now this.
Consider them together, Bingley, and tell me it is merely coincidence. "
Bingley's smile faded. "When you put it so... it sounds more like design than Providence." He looked at Darcy in astonishment. "Why did you never tell me?"
"I had no proof. I have none still."
"But you believe it."
"I do."
Bingley rose and crossed slowly to the hearth, one hand passing thoughtfully across his chin as he tried to reconcile this revelation with all he knew of his friend.
"Good God..."
Darcy rose and crossed to the window, unable to remain still.
"Because of that, I resolved whilst in London to encourage no attachment until this business is brought to an end. I would not have Miss Bennet become another victim merely because she happened to attract my notice."
Bingley watched him in silence for several moments before speaking, his voice gentler than before.
"I understand what you fear. Had you told me this in London, I believe I should have answered much as I do now.
I do not make light of it, Darcy. If you are right, it is a terrible burden to bear.
But I cannot persuade myself that this is the protection you imagine it to be.
You believe you are sparing Miss Bennet from some greater injury, yet the only injury you know with certainty has come from your own hand. "
"It may spare her worse."
"It may," Bingley acknowledged. "But it may also cost you a great deal upon nothing stronger than fear."
Darcy turned from the window but remained silent. He could not deny that some part of him had already asked the same question.
"You do not yet know who is responsible for any of this?" Bingley asked at length.
"No."
"Nor how far they are prepared to go?"
"No."
Bingley nodded slowly. "Then caution is warranted. Surrender is not."
Darcy did not answer.
"You believe you are protecting Miss Bennet," Bingley said after a moment. "Perhaps you are. I only wonder whether you have convinced yourself of that because it is easier than admitting you are afraid."
The words lingered between them.
At length Darcy said, almost too quietly to be heard, "Perhaps."
Bingley's expression softened, and the glint in his eyes suggested that the single word had told him more than Darcy had intended.
"I shall not urge you beyond your own conscience. That decision is yours alone. Only remember this, Darcy. Whoever has spent these years taking so much from you has already claimed enough. Do not yield the remainder of your happiness without first making him earn it."
Darcy offered no reply. He remained standing at the window long after the conversation had ended, outwardly as composed as ever. Only his thoughts betrayed him, returning again and again to the question Bingley had left unanswered. Was he acting from prudence... or from fear?
~
Elizabeth
Longbourn
The Bennets gathered for breakfast most mornings around nine o'clock, and Elizabeth had come to know the hour as one best approached with patience, for her mother rarely let a subject of consequence wait until the tea had properly steeped.
Mrs. Bennet had begun her account of the assembly before Elizabeth had properly taken her seat at the table and showed no sign, a quarter of an hour later, of approaching its conclusion.
"You cannot conceive it, Mr. Bennet. You were not there to witness it, but I assure you Mr. Bingley danced the first with Jane, then stood up with Charlotte Lucas for the second, which was only proper, considering Sir William's position and his having introduced him to so many of the company," she declared, waving her hands for emphasis.
"But he returned directly to Jane for the third, and everybody agreed it was most remarkable for a gentleman of his consequence at his very first assembly in the neighbourhood.
Lady Lucas herself declared she had never seen a young man so struck, and I am sure I never saw Jane look half so handsome as she did whilst dancing with him. "
"You have, I think, omitted very little of the evening," Mr. Bennet observed over his coffee. "I confess myself relieved to hear there remains something yet to tell."
"You may laugh, Mr. Bennet, but I tell you Mr. Bingley is exactly the sort of young man one hopes for, amiable, handsome, and five thousand a year besides.
If Jane does not fix him I shall be very much astonished, for I never saw a gentleman so taken with a young lady in all my life.
" She paused only long enough to draw breath before continuing.
"Though I cannot say the same for his friend, that Mr. Darcy.