Bingley’s face was a mixture of frustration and guilt. “It’s Miss Elizabeth. She’s gone to London.”
Darcy blinked, the words hitting him like a slap. “London? What do you mean she’s gone to London?”
“This morning. Miss Bennet told me. She left rather suddenly, it seems, without much of an explanation.”
Darcy stared, his mind refusing to process what he was hearing. “Without—what reason did she give?”
Bingley hesitated, and Darcy had scarcely ever seen his friend looking so pale. “Apparently, none that satisfied her family. Something about the Gardiners hosting a Christmas party for his business partners… you see, nothing so very urgent, but she insisted on going to help. Miss Bennet said they tried every possible measure to convince her to stay.”
Darcy’s voice sharpened. “Every possible measure? What does that mean?”
“Well…” Bingley looked sheepish. “Miss Bennet even told her sister that we were engaged.”
Darcy’s head jerked back, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “Engaged? What nonsense is this, Bingley?”
“No, no, not engaged,” Bingley clarified hastily, raising his hands as though warding off an attack. “Not exactly. But she might have implied we were… courting.”
“Courting,” Darcy repeated flatly. “Sheimpliedit? To Miss Elizabeth?”
“Yes,” Bingley admitted, his face coloring in irregular blotches. “It was a desperate attempt, you see. Miss Bennet thought if Elizabeth saw others embracing happiness, she might reconsider… whatever it is she’s trying to run from.”
“And…” Darcy stalked closer to Bingley, inspecting his friend closely—every nervous twitch and uneven breath. “… did this supposed announcement come as a surprise to you?”
Bingley swallowed and slipped a finger under the edge of his cravat. “Ah… no. Well, the timing, surely. We had not thought matters would spiral so quickly, but we did speak of… that.”
“You spoke of marriage to each other, or simply the prospect of persuading Miss Elizabeth, and…” Darcy arched a brow and pointed at his own chest.
Bingley gulped. “A bit of both, but… m-more the latter.”
“More the…” Darcy’s outrage surged. “So, let me understand this correctly. You and Miss Bennet devised some scheme to manipulate her sister’s feelings—and mine—by fabricating a courtship?”
Bingley flushed deeper, shifting uncomfortably. “It wasn’t like that, Darcy. We thought it might encourage her, that’s all.”
Darcy’s laugh was short and humorless. “Encourageher? With a lie that could very well damage Miss Bennet’s reputation if word got out? Or were you planning to make this pretense a reality?”
Bingley opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly caught off guard. Finally, he muttered, “I’ve been considering it.”
Darcy’s brows shot up. “Considering it? You had bloody well better be doing more thanconsideringit!”
“I am!” Bingley snapped, his tone defensive now. “I’ve thought of little else, in fact! But I hadn’t planned to act so soon, and certainly not under these circumstances.”
Darcy let out a sharp breath and paced toward the window, his boots thudding against the wooden floor. The snow-covered grounds outside looked pristine, untouched, and offered no solace for the chaos in his mind. He turned back to Bingley, his anger not yet spent.
“And why,” Darcy demanded, “were you and Miss Bennet so determined to push Elizabeth toward me? Was it your idea or hers?”
Bingley hesitated, his expression a mix of guilt and defensiveness. “Miss Bennet might have suggested it first. She said her sister has always been difficult to please and that no man she has met has ever measured up. She…” He cleared his throat and shifted uneasily. “She—Miss Bennet, that is—she even said that Miss Elizabeth f-f…”
“Go on. You have got this far,” Darcy snapped testily.
Bingley cleared his throat again. “Well, Miss Bennet had a rather serious suitor once. She said she fancied him herself, though it was little more than a girlish intrigue, but—”
“I think I know where this is going, but you are not making a strong case.”
“No, no, hang on. This fellow even wrote Miss Bennet some very fine poetry, but Miss Elizabeth thought him a worthless cad, and fairly ran him off before he could declare himself. And since then, she has scarcely let another man near her sister.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Either Miss Elizabeth has just risen again in my esteem, or you have just been subject to the worst fleecing I ever heard. You honestly believed the lady when she told you all this?”
“Miss Bennet had nothing to conceal,” Bingley retorted hotly. “She wants nothing but happiness, for herself as well as her sister. But knowing her sister as she does, she has come to believe that unless Miss Elizabeth can be induced to fall in love herself, she will never credit that others might do the same. But up until now, no man has ever caught the lady’s attention, much less her regard. Miss Bennet thought you might be the one exception.”
