“Oh, but of course! You will want to learn all the news of the neighborhood. Now, let me see, you already know about my Lydia. She wished so much to go to Newcastle with her husband, but I think the usual soldier’s accommodations would have been very bad for her health. How glad we all are that he allowed her to stay the winter here! And have you heard that Miss Lucas is married and settled? She is wed to our cousin, Mr Collins, and a fine match it is for her! I always declared she would make a dowdy spinster, but after Lizzy rejected Mr Collins, she saw her chance, and so there it is!”
“Mama!” Jane, thoroughly red, scolded her mother under her breath. She darted a pained expression to Mr Bingley, apologising with her eyes. Some empathy passed between them, an understanding sealed but not spoken. He smiled hesitantly, absolving Mrs Bennet of every shocking thing she could ever utter, if only Jane might continue gazing at him.
Mrs Bennet snatched the moment like a carrion bird scouting a fresh kill. “Mary, my love,” she fluttered her hand, “will you come with me a moment? I have just remembered there is something I wished to speak of with you, and it was of the greatest import! And Kitty, you, too.”
The girls traded looks of astonishment, but at another command from their mother, they rose to go. Jane shrank a little in her seat, her cheeks pink. She both longed for, yet dreaded, the words which were to come. Mr Bingley wasted not an instant of his opportunity.
His colour high, he reached across the space between them toward her hand. “Oh, Miss Bennet! Can you ever forgive a selfish boor, an inconstant fool who could go away for so long without word or hope?”
Jane gazed longingly at his hand, but she did not touch it. Her eyes raised shyly to his. “That, I suppose, depends upon your intentions, sir.”
He gasped, then fell to the floor on his knees, his hands clasped in supplication. “Miss Bennet, you are too good, too gracious to trifle with me. Would that I could claim such nobility! You have possessed my heart since the first time I saw you. These many months, I have known what it is to go about with only half a soul, for any sensible part of me has remained constantly with you. I would lay my life at your feet, if only you could offer me the slightest hope! Miss Bennet, I have behaved unforgivably, abominably ill, but never again! If you will have me, I wish to spend the rest of my days caring for you.”
Jane’s eyes shone. Biting her lip, she nodded vehemently as tears started down her cheeks. Bingley released a great cry of joy and relief as she at last took his hands. He rose to sit close at her side, and their heads bowed together in the first shared moments of lovers.
Bingley clasped her hands tightly, trembling. “Oh, Jane, my darling angel! How I have longed for you these many months! Can you truly forgive such a foolish man?”
“Freely, sir,” she smiled, her voice tight. “I believe I have loved you almost since that first night as well. I scolded myself for a simpleton, but I hoped so dearly that one day I might see you again.”
“Every day, my dearest love!” he swore fervently. “We shall never part again, even for the very most prosaic of reasons. Life is too fragile and precious a thing to be attempted alone.”
Jane hesitated, then her fingers lifted to trace his cheek. “I am so very sorry that you have lost your friend,” she whispered.
He blinked in astonishment, then his hand caught hers, eagerly cupping her slim fingers. “You cannot know my anguish! Darcy was more than a friend, he was… he was a brother. He bridged the gulf for a tradesman’s son when we were boys in school, and he has advised and befriended me in the most remarkable ways. You would never have guessed, had you not known him as I did, but never was there such a gentle friend nor such an able counselor. I only now begin to fathom what I have lost in him! There is no other like him. I…” his eyes grew hot and his mouth worked in agony. “I never imagined doing without him, my dear Jane! The only thing in this world that could be worse would be to lose you as well, and I believed I had done so.”
“Never, sir,” she vowed. “And if it gives you relief to either speak more of your friend or to remain silent in his memory, I shall be honoured to pay my respects in the same manner.”
He stared, amazed and humbled. “My sweet….” He swept down and brushed a tender kiss to her lips, but drew back almost at once. “Forgive me! I have not even spoken with your father, and I ought not to have taken such liberties!”
Jane, crimson from her breast to her cheekbones, hid her beaming smile modestly behind her hand. “You are indeed abominable, sir!”
“What must you think of me? One moment I am mourning my brother—for I cannot think of him as less—the next I am falling on my knees to declare my undying devotion and plead forgiveness, which you ought rightly never have granted. Oh, my Jane, I feel I will be constantly and flagrantly trespassing upon your goodness, but I find that humbly beggingyourpardon is sweeter even than indifferent accord with any other! I had hoped it could be so, for I come to you a broken, lost man, my Jane. How Darcy would chide me for my disordered feelings!”
Here, he drew a choking little laugh. “‘First duty, then pleasure,’ he would have counseled, but is it not a pleasure to remember my friend and to break my heart anew at each moment I am reminded of him? And is it not a duty to you and to my own heart to right the great wrong I wrought in going away as I did? No, I cannot know what to think or feel—only that I am grieved, and your love is my consolation.”
She touched his hand lightly. “Grief and love are easily confused. Would it ease your mind to speak more of him? I do not mean to intrude upon your feelings, but while the heart may hold a multitude of emotions, the mind seems only capable of managing one at a time.”
His countenance washed clean in relief. “You are wise and gentle beyond my desserts, my dearest.” He heaved a weary sigh, then scrubbed his face with his hand. When he lowered it at last, the joy had dissipated from his expression, replaced by the agony that had lain hidden beneath. Another breath shuddered from him, and Jane tightened her caress over his hand as he began to speak.
“The internment was only three days ago in Derbyshire—a quiet affair, much quieter than one might expect for one of his station. His uncle, the Earl of Matlock, had insisted that it be so. Only the earl, the viscount, the colonel, and myself were in attendance.Ionly found out because I tried to pay a call on Darcy last week, and it was returned by his cousin. It was he who gave me the news. He told me that they found him in the street… I suppose it was just under a fortnight ago now.”
“Found him? He was not at home?”
“No.” Here, a pain flickered in his eyes. “He was… he was in a most disreputable part of town. I cannot think that Darcy would have gone there for the usual reasons. I knew him very well, you must understand, but there he was found, nonetheless. I know others suspected less noble reasons, but I cannot help but believe he was there on some errand of mercy. I must believe that, or all else I knew of the man is a lie.”
Jane straightened. “An errand of mercy! Sir… are you fully aware of the circumstances of my sister’s marriage?” Jane cringed, he cheeks flushed in shame.
“No—I never knew Mr Wickham well, but he is not a man I would expect to marry without some… consideration. I had heard rumours about an elopement, but I did not believe half what I heard. My dear, I beg you would not be concerned on my account, for rumours could never cause me to—”
Jane shook her head, interrupting him, but her expression was one of warm gratification. “You are generous, sir, but that is not what I meant. Theywereinduced to marry against Mr Wickham’s will—by Mr Darcy.”
“Darcy!” he cried. “How did he become involved?”
“I do not know the details. Perhaps my Aunt Gardiner knows more. I am told that he assisted them in the search for my sister and the subsequent arrangements. My aunt had seen him on Monday afternoon, and he was to go again to Mr Wickham’s residence that evening. He was to have met them again for Lydia’s wedding in the morning, but he did not appear.”
Mr Bingley’s brow furrowed. “Now that is an interesting bit. Certainly, Fitzwilliam must know this.”
“Fitzwilliam? Do you mean Mr Darcy? I do not understand.”
