“I do not.” Darcy crossed his arms.
“Yes, well, I am now a part of this town, and I shall do as they do. I will wager you, Darcy, and I challenge you on your honor to consider accepting. You claim that behaving as a gentleman leads to unwanted expectations. I am saying it is entirely possible to be polite—dance, talk, the whole lot—without sending anyone rushing to the altar.”
Darcy exhaled slowly. Bingley’s optimism was charming but misguided. “It is not as simple as that.”
“Then prove it,” Bingley dared, his smile still in place. “Let us see if your theory holds up. For the rest of our stay in Hertfordshire, you act as a perfect gentleman—dance, converse with every lady in your path, and show the courtesy you claim leads to disaster.”
Darcy gave him a long, level look. This was foolishness. A game. “And if I refuse?”
“Then I suppose I’ll never know whether you’re right,” Bingley said, still grinning. “But I’ll wager you are overthinking the whole thing.”
“I do not need to prove that I am right. I know I am. That is enough.”
“Yes, but how are you going to prove it tome?You see, I know you, Darcy. You can hardly stand for anyone not to think you are in the right.”
He kept his face impassive. “It matters little to me whether you believe me to be right or wrong. I have no intention ofputting myself out merely because you desire to engage in some local amusement by trying to provoke me into acting out of character.”
“So, you admit that you are unsociable? That you are downright unapproachable and prideful, above your company?”
Darcy narrowed his eyes. “I am no such thing. I simply do not lower myself to indulge in ribaldry.”
“Poppycock. That Assembly was everything respectable.You, however, were little better than a wall hanging adorning the edge of the room. Can you deny it?”
“I have no wish to deny it.”
“Then you may as well admit it, Darcy. You are unpleasant in company because you find it expedient. You will not give yourself the trouble of being merry and engaging because you prefer to be miserable and alone.”
Darcy sighed. “I am perfectly willing to return to London if you find my company tiresome.”
“No, no, don’t you dare!” Bingley laughed. “You cannot show up as my guest, looking like a black cloud, and then leave town the next day. Think of the questions I shall have to answer! I repeat my challenge, Darcy. If you refuse, I shall form my own opinions on your manner.”
He pursed his lips. “And if I accept your wager?”
Bingley leaned back, his grin widening. “Then we’ll see just how easily you can behave like a gentleman without being ‘trapped in expectations.’ I daresay you will surprise even yourself.”
Darcy considered this for a moment. It was ridiculous. But the idea of proving Bingley wrong—of showing him the truth of how these situations unfolded—was almost tempting. “And if you’re right?”
“If I’m right,” Bingley said, shrugging lightly, “you owe me nothing. I will have the satisfaction of knowing my dearestfriend in the world does not send my neighbors running for the woods in fear of his displeasure.”
“And if you are wrong? If I show myself to be everything you deem ‘amiable’ and half the mothers of Meryton begin buying wedding clothes for their daughters?”
Bingley laughed. “Darcy, if I am wrong, it will not be because of raised expectations among the town, but because you failed to be properly ‘amiable.’”
Darcy sucked in a sigh and shifted in his seat. “Try me.”
“Very well. If you win... well, then I’ll finally take your advice about the business.”
Darcy’s expression darkened. “The business?”
“You know exactly what I mean,” Bingley said, more serious now. “You’ve been telling me to sell my father’s business for years. And I’ve resisted every time. But if I’m right and you lose the wager, I’ll sell it and reinvest as you’ve been advising.”
Darcy studied him in silence. There was no joking in Bingley’s tone now. They’d had this conversation before, many times. And though it was in Bingley’s best interest to let the business go, the younger man had never been able to sever the sentimental tie. But here was a chance to prove a point—and perhaps to do some real good.
“If you know it is for your own good, why not just sell it now?” Darcy asked testily. “Why try to force me into this charade?”
“Because I have no desire to sell it. You’ll have to prove thatyou’rewilling to listen tomewhen I tell you something that is foryourown good.”
He stared at Bingley, who was still watching him with that maddening grin. Darcy exhaled slowly, the flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You are incorrigible, Bingley.”
