Mr. Bingley huffed. “Actually, it was Miss Elizabeth who told me to leave. But that was after Miss Bennet had burst into tears and run off.”
The Colonel laughed. “That sounds about right.”
“And what wouldyouhave done, had you been there?”
“I would have sent Miss Bingley home the very minute she began whatever diatribe she had launched into, then returned to Miss Bennet, apologised profusely to whomever had witnessed the event, and immediately asked Miss Bennet for a courtship.”
Mr. Bingley shook his head. “I could never have done that.”
“I know you could not; that is why Miss Bingley must live elsewhere.”
The Colonel then put his finger to his lips, walked silently to the library door, and jerked it open.
Miss Bingley had quite obviously been leaning against the library door, hoping to make out a few words of their conversation; once deprived of that support, she almost fell to the floor. Blushing furiously, she righted herself and said, “I was just about to knock; shall I have refreshments sent in to you?”
The Colonel began to laugh as Charles moaned in embarrassment. Flustered, Caroline turned and fled.
Chapter Twenty-Six
After farewelling the Bennets, Mr. Darcy returned to Netherfield in a better frame of mind than he had experienced since discovering Georgiana’s absence at Ramsgate. He poked his head into the drawing room, expecting to find his host and hostess there, but it was empty. He then ran upstairs and knocked on the Colonel’s door, but there was no response.
He went up to the third floor and looked in the billiard room, and there he found Mr. Bingley, holding a cue and staring moodily at the still-racked balls.
“Have you just started a game, Bingley?”
Mr. Bingley started. “Oh, Darcy, there you are. No, I am just thinking.”
“About billiards?”
“No, about myself.”
“Oh. In that case, shall I leave you to it?”
“No, I want to talk about it. Tell me, Darcy; am I a weak man?”
Mr. Darcy drew back; this was not the sort of conversation he enjoyed. But Bingley was a good friend and had been for some years now, so he was owed some consideration.
“Why do you ask that, Bingley?” he temporized.
“The Colonel told me that I was.”
“Really? He told you that you are a weak man?” Mr. Darcy was surprised.
“Well, not outright, though it was certainly implied. Too weak to control Caroline, in any case. And he says she is far cleverer than I am.”
Mr. Darcy looked away.
“Your silence tells me everything I need to know,” Mr. Bingley said, bitterly.
“I am sorry, Bingley; I would not upset you for the world.”
“I know that. I suppose that is why it was the Colonel who had to tell me the truth about myself.”
“If I may say so…” Mr. Darcy trailed off.
“Go on.”
“I think it is more about Miss Bingley than it is about you. A loving sister would not use her skills and her knowledge of her brother in order to manipulate him into complying with her wishes.”
