“He falls in love easily, you recall. And apparently, he falls out of it just as easily. At the time, his sisters and I discouraged his interest. Miss Bennet has no fortune, she has connexions in trade, and her family was—forgive me—shocking.”
“You are generous with your opinions,” he said with a degree of tartness, for it was a rule between gentlemen not to meddle in one another’s affairs.
“Do you wonder at it? I was hopeful I could listen to my own advice and escape Hertfordshire unscathed.”
He opened his mouth with every appearance of his intent to upbraid me, so I forestalled him by slumping heavily back into my chair. “I wish you would not lecture me. I have spent many hours regrettingeverything.”My confidence, newly born the night before, began to waver. Would a fresh heartbreak for JaneBennet cause Elizabeth to remember her grievance against me? I was Bingley’sdisapproving friend!
Fitzwilliam may not have even heard my expression of regret, for he seemed to be deep in thought. “We should certainly join the house party now,” he said after some thought.
“I am not so sure we ought to go. My presence may only add to the awkwardness of that situation.”
He snapped shut his book and in a voice of great determination, he said, “You had better overcome your misgivings, for not only should we go, but we must try to do what can be done to lessen the sting to Miss Bennet’s pride.”
“And how do you suggest we do that? The resentment felt by her sister for my part in it?—”
“Must certainly be blunted when I apply myself to her sister’s ease.”
“You?”
“Did I not write to you that there was one bright spot in my visit to Meryton? By God, Darcy, I mean to make her think of Bingley as a stupid, passing fancy.”
“Need I remind you Miss Bennet has no fortune?”
“Did I say I would marry her? I admire her, and that is where the matter ends. My intention is only to soften the blow.”
“You have a great deal of confidence in your charm,” I drawled.
“I have the assurance of her sister’s letter. Do you recall? The lady mentioned the loss of my company.”
“Oh, inthatcase, your swagger is justified. You must be an expert at paying particular attention to a lady andnotraising her hopes. I am certain her mother will not mistake your intentions in the least.”
He laughed off my sarcasm and stood up an entirely different man from the one who entered the room. “It is only because you have been ill you are so peevish,” he replied with that stupidmerriment that invalids truly hate. Still, I could not deny he seemed to have assumed a mission and looked more powerful for it.
“I must return to Headquarters tomorrow and make myself so useful that when I ask again for leave, it is granted. In this one case, I am grateful for my father’s title, for I have only to hint he has need of me to be given my freedom.”
CHAPTER 32
Fitzwilliam’s sudden invigoration was infectious. I might not have the confidence in the outcome of our plans as he did, but he was right. We should do what we could to spare Miss Bennet the grief of watching Bingley—oblivious and well-meaning as he was—showing off his intended. And if I were to make amends in this small way, and in doing so, escort my sister to Hertfordshire and spend any meaningful time in that neighbourhood, I felt compelled to be in better form. My own hopes had to be set aside meanwhile, and though I did not relish it, I would have to subject myself to a period of uncertainty as to whether Elizabeth’s developing regard could withstand this new reminder of the sins of my past dealings with her family.
“Carsten,” I said the next morning. “I need you to bring young Hammond along. He should be doing the mending and boot polishing and such menial tasks as consume the bulk of your time.”
“Sir?”
“I need you to help me get well. We should start with a walk this morning. Oh, and while I am having my breakfast, bring to me the rest of my mail so we can sort through it. Have two trayssent to my study, will you? I do not enjoy eating alone these days.”
What my cousin had said was true. I found three unopened letters from Bingley—the first mentioning a beauty he had been compelled to follow through the last weeks of the London Season; the second, an ecstatic scrawl announcing he would marry Miss Cora Johnson; and the last a heartfelt plea I would spend a few weeks at Netherfield Park when the hunting began—dates forthcoming, depending on Mr Johnson’s availability—at which time I could meet his bride-to-be and her delightful parents.
By this point, my heart had been so sadly tenderised by the savagery of both love and illness, I replied with uncharacteristic warmth that I had witnessed their introduction, and indeed, Miss Johnson seemed more than just a sweetly mannered beauty. I was glad, I added, she had done what no other lady could do in securing his settled admiration, for he had become a great nuisance and a heart-breaker besides. I also let him know I would be travelling with Georgiana to London near that time, and rather than outright accepting, I couched this explanation in the language of good manners, thus leaving the matter open so that he could extend the invitation to include her—which he unquestionably would—upon arriving at a more definite date as to when he would open his house.
As I wrote, I released my resentment towards my friend, who was by nature more malleable than I was, and whose only crime had been to listen to my unsolicited advice and to cause me to feel all the guilt I was due on account of my interference. In this spirit of absolution, I also forgave myself for my past misdeeds. I was honestly remorseful—and even a touch superstitious since being struck down by a debilitating fever had seemed severe enough to smack of spiritual retribution. From the platform of practicality, which was foundational to me, I also had toacknowledge the facts—the plain truth being that what is done is done. The only remedy clear to me was to make amends and do better, which was now my intent.
In nursing my optimism back to full health, I endlessly replayed the wordyesin Elizabeth’s tenderest, most intimate voice. Had she not written to my sister…if it is truly love then I cannot see how it would be possible to ever fall out of it?I would soon find out how deep her feelings for me ran.
Meanwhile, Carsten applied himself to my calendar, carving out three full weeks for Hertfordshire, and committing us to a subsequent spell in London before our return to Pemberley for the Festive Season. In the interim, he filled my days with meetings with my steward, my tenants, my housekeeper, and butler, for I thought it wise to attend to the affairs of my estate after so many months in which my attention had been elsewhere.
Part and parcel to this urge to tie loose ends, I also called for Keller, who arrived hat in hand looking ready for anything.
“Tell the grooms that weather permitting, I plan to ride every day,” I said after greeting him, “and look around for a horse properly sized for Mr Carsten who is to ride with me.”
