“Yes, and you were fortunate enough to be right in all three instances. Somehow.” Darcy’s tone was dry, but the fondness beneath it was undeniable. He had never quite understood how Bingley managed to be so consistently lucky, so impossibly optimistic, and… so irritatingly correct.
Bingley grinned, looking as though he might bask in Darcy’s reluctant praise. But the grin faltered as he stood and began pacing again, running a hand through his unruly blond hair. “That’s exactly the problem! Don’t you see? We’vedoneit, Darcy. We’ve made our fortune. We’ve proved everyone wrong a thousand times over. Now, we should be enjoying it.”
“Enjoying it how, exactly?” Darcy arched an eyebrow, watching Bingley’s restless movements. “By… retreating to the country? Wasting away in idle conversation and bad brandy?”
“Wasting away?” Bingley laughed, though it was a bit sharper than usual. “Darcy, you make it sound as though taking a breath of fresh air might kill you. Yes, retreating to the country! Relaxing. Letting the world turn without us needing to crank its wheels and spindles for once. Buying a house, for Heaven’s sake.”
“Buying a house? I already own a perfectly sumptuous house, and so do you.”
“In the city.” Bingley’s frustration cracked through now, his hands gesturing wildly again as he paced. “I’m talking about a house in thecountry, Darcy. Where things are green, remember? Fresh air, quiet—”
“I have one of those as well.”
“Yes, a four-day drive from London. But since I can hardly get you out of Mayfair, except to go to St. James’ or Pall Mall, what is the use of even saying you own the house?”
“Well, Pemberley itself brings in a rather tidy income…”
“Darcy!” Bingley laughed. “You are intentionally missing my point!”
Darcy put his quill away with a sigh. No point in trying to finish this now. “What would you have me do, Bingley?”
Bingley was pacing by now, his hands braced at his waist as he cast occasional glances at Darcy on his course across the room. “I want you to dip into that thing called ‘living’ once in a while. I want you to go… I don’t know… shoot a brace of geese yourself and put them on your own table for a change. I want you to take a few fences, or gallop until your hat flies off your head on some of those valuable hunters you prize in your stables but have never seen. I want you to take your sister to a play or an opera where you arenottrying to find an opportunity to make a business or a political connection.”
Darcy scoffed. “Do not be naive. You know perfectly well I was only trying to be friendly to Lords Hastings and Meriwether.”
“Hah! I jolly well know no such thing! You ascribe pounds and pence to every conversation. I have seen the ledger, Darcy.”
“What, ledger? It is merely my notes, which have proved useful more than—”
“And what about ladies? What about marriage and a family of your own?”
Darcy blinked. Then swallowed. “I told you. All in—”
“The ‘good time’ isnow,Darcy. Not when you are fifty. Egad, man, you were already five years old by the time your father was the age you are now! Look here. It is already November. You and I are full up of invitations to balls, soirées, Assemblies. I say we accept at least half of them.”
“Why?”
“Because, Darcy, I wantyouout of my hair!”
Darcy frowned and glanced speculatively at the wall behind Bingley. “Well, you could have said…”
“Ihavesaid. Find a woman, Darcy. Find a hobby. Gad’s teeth, run for office if it will keep you busy and get you out of here for a change!”
“Ah, sothatis your motive. You are not seeking to make me ‘happy,’ as you claim. You want to be rid of me?”
Bingley went quiet, still pacing.
Darcy shifted in his chair. “Interesting. Youdowant to be rid of me.”
“No, no! But… Darcy, for more than eight years, we’ve done nothing but work. I live like an old man. I’ve no friends who are not also business partners, I spend so much time at my desk that I am winded when I take the stairs to my own room, and I was trying to remember the last time I danced at a ball. Take a guess, Darcy.”
“Two years, one month, and four days ago,” Darcy answered flatly. “Lady Hansen’s ball. Look, Bingley, if you are so tired of work, take a holiday. Go to the country yourself.”
“Aha, as if I could! No, Darcy, I know exactly what will come of that. An urgent summons will find me the moment I’ve tried to start anything new, and I’ll achieve nothing but wasted time and frustration. There is absolutely no point in me trying to do anything or go anywhere unlessyouare diverted elsewhere. That is why…” Bingley cleared his throat and turned around. “I have already accepted those invitations.”
Darcy narrowed his eyes. “Which invitations?”
“All… all of them. We will have a merry time this winter, Darcy. We shall meet ladies and dance and smoke cigars with our friends—real friends, Darcy! I mean to go skating in Hyde Park and—”
