When they arrived at Netherfield, Darcy did not even wait for the footman to lower the steps. He jumped down and strode toward the house, ignoring the startled greeting from the butler, his coat whipping behind him in the breeze his strides created. Bingley followed at a more sedate pace, catching up only when Darcy had already pushed open the door to the study.
Darcy crossed to the hearth, standing with his back to the room as Bingley closed the door.
“Brandy?” Bingley offered.
Darcy did not answer.
Bingley poured two glasses anyway, setting one on the desk and holding the other loosely in his hand as he perched on the arm of a chair. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Bingley nodded. “Excellent. Let us sit in silence, then, while your blood pressure quietly murders you.”
Darcy turned at last, his expression carved from stone. “Hewillwrite to her.”
“Then let him,” Bingley said. “She will huff and bluster and complain to her dogs, and the sun will still rise tomorrow.”
Darcy stared at him. “You have no idea what she is capable of.”
Bingley blinked. “Perhaps not. But I do know you. And I have never seen you this rattled.” He stood fully now, his tone turning careful. “This is not just about your name.”
Darcy’s jaw tensed.
Bingley narrowed his eyes. “Whatisgoing on?”
Silence. A long one.
Darcy’s hand twitched near the untouched glass on the desk. “There are things I cannot tell you.”
“You mean youwillnot tell me.”
“I mean,” Darcy said evenly, “that the fewer people who know, the safer it is for everyone involved.”
Bingley stepped back, folding his arms. “So that is what this is. A matter of safety.”
Darcy said nothing.
Bingley exhaled. “Well. That is more of an answer than I expected.” He reached for his own glass and took a drink. “Is ither?”
Darcy looked at him sharply. “I do not know what you mean.”
“I mean your mysterious ‘Miss Elizabeth Bennet.’”
Darcy stiffened. “MyMiss Elizabeth? Bingley, you are imagining an attachment where none exists.”
“Am I? You are always watching her. Protecting her.”
Darcy scoffed. “Nothing of the kind. I like Mr. Bennet. His eldest daughter is tolerable enough, and as I said, she seems to have atendrefor you. I endure the rest of the family for—”
“Poppycock. She is no ‘long-lost cousin.’ She ‘arrived’ at Longbourn with absolutely no warning whatsoever—”
“Mr. Bennet is oddly capricious in the disclosing of planned guests. Only look at Mr. Collins’ similarly unannounced arrival if you need evidence of that.”
“—The very same day you returned from London, after a summons so ‘urgent’ that you left off a planned leave that you had so desperately earned?“ Bingley clicked his tongue. “Come, Darcy, I may not know the exact nature of your business at the Home Office, but I am not incapable of drawing a straight line between two points. She is no more a Bennet than I am.”
Darcy lowered his eyes. “She is… important,” he confessed. “And for now, Bennet is the safest name for her to use.”
Bingley finished the bite he had just taken and swallowed. “I suspect that is the best reply you mean to give me. If I can help, you need only ask.”
