“Mr Bingley to see you, sir,” his butler announced.
That snapped him to. Darcy glanced up and gave his head a quick shake. “Bingley? Show him in, Jenkins.”
Charles Bingley burst into the room, his face alight with excitement. “Darcy! The most extraordinary thing has happened!”
Darcy set down his quill, then blinked heavily when he looked up a little too quickly. The headache, which had dulled somewhat, was now roaring back to life. “What is it, Bingley?”
“I’ve received an invitation from the fellow who leased Netherfield. Can you believe it?” Bingley’s words tumbled out in a rush. “A conciliatory gesture, I suppose. He said he heard my name from the neighbours—Mr Philips, I expect—and felt so terrible on myaccount that he wished to make amends. He has extended an invitation for a shooting party!”
“But we are to leave for Pemberley in two days,” Darcy protested, trying to keep his voice steady despite the throbbing in his temples. “If I recall, the idea was largely yours.”
“I know, I know. Darcy, would you despise me very much if I begged off? I did fancy the coveys in Hertfordshire over any I had ever seen, and… well, to be truthful, you did not seem terribly enthralled with the idea.”
Darcy sighed and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers over his stomach. “Not entirely, but I just spent the afternoon arguing with Miss Darcy about… conflicting plans thereto, and everything is arranged now.”
“Oh.” Bingley’s face fell. “Oh, dear. She will be terribly disappointed, then.” His expression hardened reluctantly. “Very well. I shall write this fellow and beg off.”
“No, no, that will not be necessary. Fitzwilliam will still wish to accompany me. So, tell me, who is this fellow?”
Bingley opened his mouth, then closed it again, his face ashen. “Do you know? I am ashamed to say I’ve forgot the man’s name. Ihadhis letter, and I was going to show you, but then I had to change my coat before I went out and dash it if the letter was not in the other pocket.”
Darcy sighed again, his patience fraying under the strain of his mounting headache. “How could you forget the name of a man who invited you to his home for… a month? What exactly does this invitation entail?”
“As I said, it is for a shooting party, about the first of the month. He said he meant to invite a few other friends; mostly names I did not recognize. I quite fancy he is new money, given the sound of his connections.”
“Undoubtedly,” Darcy murmured drily.
“But what does that matter to me? Am I any different? My father’s money came from the woollen mills.”
“But you received a gentleman’s education from your infancy, and you have friends among the peerage. You are well-established socially. You can bring nothing to yourself by this connection.”
“Oh, bother that. It is only a shooting party, Darcy, perfectly respectable. And besides, my host wrote in his letter about his desire to deepen his connections with the local gentry by inviting them to accompany us in our sport. There, you see? Everything proper.”
“Hmm,” Darcy mused, tapping his thumbs together. The pain behind his eyes was becoming unbearable. “And you have no qualms about accepting?”
“None at all, old chap. I mean to write back to him at once if it… well, of course, I would not wish to offendyou, Darcy.”
“We already dispensed with that. I am not in the least offended that I shall not be put out for a shooting party that was not originally in my plans. But why are you so eager to go?”
“Well, it would be an excellent opportunity to revisit Netherfield. I might discover what it was about the property that appealed so much to me so that I might learn to find another like it. Or perhaps I will even persuade myself that it never truly was the property for me. Better yet, I might just meet with some new face who can put me in the way of finding my own house.”
Darcy’s fingers tightened together, his headache now a relentless pounding. “Those all sound like excuses. Confess it—you had already made up your mind to go, and you are trying to justify yourself to me.”
Bingley’s face fell slightly, but his enthusiasm remained undimmed. “Perhaps, but surely it could do no harm to maintain the connection with this man? Who knows what opportunities might arise? And besides, it would be a chance to see the neighbourhood again. You remember how charming I found it.”
“I remember. But this fixation on Netherfield...”
“It is not a fixation,” Bingley protested. “It’s... it’s cultivating connections! Expanding my social circle. Is that not what you are always telling me I should do?”
Darcy sighed, recognizing the stubborn glint in his friend’s eye. “There are other ways to go about it. Ways that do not involve revisiting a disappointment.”
“But that is just it, Darcy,” Bingley leaned forward, his voice earnest. “This could turn that disappointment into an opportunity. And if nothing else, it would be a pleasant diversion. You must admit, we could both use one of those. Perhaps I could secure an invitation for you, as well.”
Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the headache intensify. His mind kept drifting back to Dr Westing’s words, the possibility of time running out. He had decided he needed to go back to Pemberley to begin the process of… things he did not relish… but how could he manage it when, even now, the room seemed to spin? “Bingley...”
“Just think about it, will you?” Bingley pressed. “In fact, the more I think on it, the surer I am that you would be welcome.”
Darcy arched a brow. That was precisely the problem, the one that Bingley was failing to acknowledge. Darcy’s name had been “welcomed” by many and exploited by several. And from the sound of this circumstance, Bingley was letting himself into a position where he also might be used for his money or his connections.
