Elizabeth blinked, and then slowly, almost involuntarily, a smile broke across her face. “And you think that can be done?”
“Not a chance in the world.”
Elizabeth’s smile fell. “But then… why did you say…?”
A faint smirk tugged at Darcy’s lips as he met her gaze. “Do you think Bingley will let me back down now? No, no, that is unfair. I have got used to him carrying his way until I hardly knew which direction I was pointed. But I would not have you think I have no will of my own.”
“On the contrary, sir, I think rather that you find Mr. Bingley’s form of ‘persuasion’ to be rather convenient.”
His eyebrow edged upward, and he took a step closer to her. “How so?”
“I think there is not a creature on earth capable of bending your will—that is my impression, at least. But letting yourselfappearto be persuaded against your wishes due to some perceived obligation permits you to seem to object to the very course you had already set your mind upon. Thus, you save face—at least, in your own mind—and you still carry on with the ‘irresponsible’ or ‘imprudent’ thing you truly wished to do in the first place.”
His lips were twitching now with restrained amusement. “I see I shall have to be exceedingly careful around you, Miss Elizabeth. But, back to the matter at hand. I have not yet begun to consider how to see Sir Thomas’s little… project here… to security. I almost quail to ask, but do you have any ideas?”
Elizabeth’s smile now threatened to split her face, and her stomach was turning a riot of delighted butterflies. “Oh, I am certain I can think of something.”
Darcy leaned back, eyeingBingley across the low-lit study, a glass of brandy held idly between his fingers. “If we are serious about this—about helping Sir Thomas in a meaningful way—then it seems I must go back to London. There are people there, influential men, who could be persuaded to endorse his efforts. A single letter from certain quarters would do wonders.” He swirled his glass thoughtfully. “William Wilberforce, for one—he has spoken publicly about reform and the importance of supporting charitable work among the poor. If he gave his blessing…”
Bingley shook his head. “But that is just it, Darcy. He might give his blessing to charitable work in general, but would he say to this? We are talking about a venture far more… particular than some of the other causes London has taken up. Sir Thomas’s work extends beyond the merely unfortunate; it invites those with… colorful reputations, does it not?”
Darcy inclined his head. “I grant that it does. But still, if we could persuade men like Wilberforce, or perhaps the Earl of Shaftesbury—”
“Theymightsupport it, yes,” Bingley cut in, “in drawing rooms full of expensive pipe smoke, miles away from the real problem, where no one soils their hands or their reputations by involving themselves. But London’s opinion matters only so much here in Hertfordshire. We need to start with Meryton. It is the town itself that is against him, Darcy. Those who see him every day are the ones to sway. If we could win Meryton over, that support would radiate outward, wouldn’t it? That way, anyone who questioned the worth of Sir Thomas’s venture would have an entire community to answer to.”
Darcy frowned, staring into his brandy. He could not deny the truth of it. There would be no real victory for Sir Thomas until he gained acceptance here, from the people of Meryton themselves. London might lend him prestige, but Meryton would give him safety.
After a long moment, Darcy set his glass down. “Miss Elizabeth suggested something yesterday,” he said slowly. “She mentioned that Netherfield is the only house for miles around large enough to host a ball.”
Bingley looked intrigued. “A… a ball, you say?”
“Not in the formal sense. She suggested a Christmas party—one large enough to include the entire community. Apparently, the town assembly hall here is modest, and Netherfield’s ballroom would make a far grander setting.”
Bingley leaned back with a grin, his eyes lighting up. “She is clever, that Miss Elizabeth. What better way to persuade people to change their minds than to welcome them in? It would be a jolly gathering, and we could introduce Sir Thomas’s household in a way that lets the town see their humanity.” He paused thoughtfully, glancing back at Darcy. “But you—well, you do realize what you are taking on. Hosting something like that is no simple affair. And you! You are hardly an experienced host. Egad, whenever we have a dinner party,Ihave to manage the affair, even if you are the one hosting.”
Darcy gave a dry smile. “Indeed. But if it is the best way to change public opinion, I am prepared to take it on.” He tapped a finger on the side of his glass, watching Bingley carefully. “We could make it not just a party, but a celebration of goodwill. The season would be an excuse for generosity, to invite everyone, not just the gentry. The whole town would have a reason to attend.”
Bingley nodded slowly, his eyes alight with interest. “There could be a supper, some small entertainments…” He trailed off, his mind clearly turning over ideas. “We shall have to make it worth their while—something so irresistible that nothing would stop even the most… judgmental among them from coming, for fear of being left out.”
Darcy allowed himself a small, approving smile. “And by the end of the night, with any luck, they will wonder why they ever opposed Sir Thomas at all.”
“By Jove,” Bingley said with a grin, “if all goes well, we shall have everyone on Sir Thomas’s side by Christmas.”
Twelve
Sir Thomas blinked, hisbaffled gaze shifting from Darcy to Bingley as if he had not heard them correctly. “Stay on? You… both of you wish to remain at Netherfield?”
Bingley nodded. “Yes, precisely. We thought we might stay a while longer, come to know the neighborhood, see a bit more of the house.”
Sir Thomas’s eyebrows drew together. “Stay on… Well, now, Ididhear you properly, did I not? I had assumed—well, I assumed that once you understood the state of things, you would be more eager to… distance yourselves from my circumstances.”
“On the contrary,” Darcy replied. “There is much to recommend the area, and for ourselves, it would be time well-spent. We will pay handsomely for your trouble, of course. You’ve no idea the bother you would save me by letting Bingley exhaust this bit of a whim. Forever trying to get me out of London, he is, and now, you see, hehasgot me out of London, and I am quite terrified to return too soon, lest he scheme up something far more inconvenient.”
“Besides,” Bingley interjected, “we rather like it here. The neighborhood has a… a lively atmosphere. You would be doing us a favor, really. Come, man, look at my friend here. Have you ever seen a fit man of eight and twenty with such a pallor? I daresay, any moment I can get him out of his study—and away from his plots and plans to grow our little empire—well, I shall not be the man to turn that opportunity down.”
“But to stayhere, as if I were any other host and you were any other guest…” Sir Thomas cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Mr. Bingley. I would not have you think yourselves unwelcome—far from it! It gives me immeasurable delight to see you both again. But… well, I say, sir, you would not find many people here willing to accept my hospitality. Not without… reservations.”
“That is precisely why we want to stay!” Bingley exclaimed, nearly rising from his seat. “Good heavens, man, do you know what a fearful bore Darcy can be when he thinks he shall be set upon by mercenary ladies? He shall have a natural sort of protection here. I might even get him out of doors for some skating or sleighing or something even more sociable like dancing and wassailing.”
