“You’ve something brewing behind that frown, Darcy,” Bingley ventured once the hammering hooves put a comfortable distance between us and the mill. “Have you any other ideas to appease the workers?”
I shot him a sidelong glance, noting genuine interest rather than merely polite inquiry. “Too many notions clash just now for a single worthy resolution,” I replied ruefully. “But your mother’s strategy seems a reasonable start.”
Bingley nodded thoughtfully. “It made a difference at the steel mill.” His modest smile turned self-deprecating. “I only wish I had half her talent for household economy and moral governance. One bachelor on his own is unlikely to establish such niceties, but I suppose one must start somewhere.”
Something in his diffident address gave me pause. I studied my friend more closely. His normally open features seemed uncharacteristically pensive. “Speaking of domestic affairs, I had wondered if you mean to pursue your interest in Miss Bennet?”
Bingley started slightly in his saddle, color creeping over his neck above an already disheveled collar. “Er, yes, of course. Am I that obvious?”
“I am afraid so.”
He cleared his throat. “Why, yes, I fancy Miss Bennet is the finest lady I have ever met. But I had not realized my attentions were already so well-known.”
“It is nothing to fret about. I was only speaking to Miss Elizabeth earlier today, and it put me in mind… well… forgive me, Bingley, it is no business of mine.”
“No, truly, Darcy, I would value your advice. That is, I mean to establish myself, and it seems that I can trust your experience and...” He tugged at his cuff before visibly collecting himself. “Forgive me, Darcy. I did not seek a connection with you merely to lean on your counsel.”
I glanced at him. “Quite all right, Bingley. Perhaps your example will be instructive for my brother. He has had an… eventful week, it seems. I daresay he could use a friend who has his head put on right.”
Bingley chuckled. “Do you know, it quite slipped my mind earlier to inquire after your own obviously eventful day.” His puzzled glance took in my bespattered coat. “Dare I ask what you were about to find yourself so, er... bedraggled when you first returned to Pemberley?”
A chuckle escaped before I curbed it. Poor Bingley had attempted manfully not to gawk at my disheveled state earlier. “Think nothing of it. I was out riding earlier today, and I had chanced upon Miss Elizabeth. The dust you saw on my coat was flour.”
He blinked. “Darcy, you needn’t explain yourself to me, but if that is your way of ‘explaining’ something… well, perhaps I might do you a turn by a bit of instruction in the art of conversation.”
“I might have need of it. Although,” I mused, grinning reminiscently, “Miss Elizabeth could probably deduce clever methods to manage me a bit more smoothly.” Sobering, I recollected myself. These flights of fancy must cease altogether! I had no intention of winning her affections for myself—I could not possibly. And besides, even if I desired it, her guardian had something else to say on the matter. My thoughts and opinions weighed little when her absence loomed decidedly nearer.
With an effort, I shelved further reflective commentary to eye Bingley directly. “And what of yourself? Were you not planning some call at Farthingdale today?”
If I thought the color staining his collar earlier betrayed diffidence, it was nothing to the sudden effusion turning even his ears scarlet. “I, well... yes, I did have some hopes of enjoying the afternoon with the charming Miss Bennet,” he confessed. “Although I had not worked out how best to subtly inquire if...” Here, he broke off awkwardly. “That is... I was hoping you might accompany me, but you have already called once today. I certainly understand if your own affairs must naturally take precedence...”
I took pity on my friend’s obvious discomfiture. “No need to abandon hopes of calling, in my view. In fact, given their imminent departure, I applaud your eagerness to enjoy what society you may while both ladies grace our neighborhood.”
At this, Bingley jerked round to gape openly at me. “Departure? Whatever can you mean? Has some development arisen I am ignorant of?”
“I regret to say yes. I have it on some authority that Mr. Gardiner is expected shortly to convey both ladies home.” Seeing his fallen countenance, I added candidly, “Although I confess facts could as easily prove otherwise. In truth, it is only Miss Elizabeth’s departure that is decided. Perhaps Miss Bennet shall remain with her aunt.” I shifted in the saddle under Bingley’s measuring look.
“You seem uncommonly well-informed on Miss Elizabeth’s affairs,” he ventured carefully.
I shrugged, feigning casualness to mask the hollow opening under my ribs. “We share some long acquaintance. But you are right—in light of this intelligence, we ought to make such opportunities count.” I clapped him bracingly on one shoulder. “Well, then! I insist you waste no more time on my account. Ride for Farthingdale and take shameless advantage of a pretty young lady’s conversation whilst you still may.”
Bingley laughed, then straightened determinedly. “I believe I shall! And do not think I shall forgetyoursage advice either, Sir. If your Miss Elizabeth’s hours amongst us are dwindling, I suggest you seize the present.” Grasping my hand impulsively, he nodded a brisk farewell before wheeling his mount off in energetic pursuit of—hopefully—his heart’s fondest desire.
I gazed after his retreating figure, still lingering long after the merry chestnut passed from view. Yes, here was wisdom I could ill afford to ignore. Too many opportunities had already slipped heedlessly through my fingers where Elizabeth was concerned. I had thought duty’s grim obligations must stand inviolate. But perhaps matters of the heart refused to submit meekly to such stark governing? Bingley’s eager devotion shone a mirror to my own restless longing, though I fought acknowledging it.
Well, fight no more. Resolution hardened within. If Elizabeth yet tarried briefly within my sphere, I would meet her gladly at every turn Fate allowed. Let us bask in joyful hours too long denied by past misunderstandings. For Bingley spoke true—whatever my intentions regarding Elizabeth Bennet, I could not bear to lose another second.
Twenty-Five
Elizabeth
“Jane,whatdoyouthink of this rosebud shade? Dare I pair it with my favorite bonnet when we tour Lambton market later?” I bent closer to the patterned muslin Aunt had brought downstairs for us that afternoon. The pastel shade of the ribbon looked well next to Jane’s flaxen curls but might clash dreadfully with my own darker complexion.
Before Jane could reply, Aunt burst abruptly into the morning room, cheeks flushed and auburn hair in disarray. “Girls! Thank heaven I found you straightaway. Helen has taken ill—quite suddenly, severe pains have come upon her!”
Jane and I shot concerned looks toward one another, then instantly rose to our feet. “But surely it is too early?” Jane questioned anxiously. “The baby was not due for two months yet, at least!”
Aunt wrung her hands, a helpless look belying her usual serene confidence. “Aye, by her reckonings, she still had many weeks ahead. She is terribly afraid she might be miscarrying.” She made a visible effort to collect herself. “I need to stay with her, but we must find Robert directly and send for the midwife and doctor without delay!”
