Miss Bingley thought hard and fast. She could not be seen as ignorant of her own brother’s marriage; she could only play along and hope that more would be revealed.
“I am, of course,” she said, playing for time.
“Was it a surprise?”
“Very much so.” Indeed, Miss Bingley wasverysurprised.
“Where were they wed?”
“At – at home,” Miss Bingley said, cautiously. “They did not want a big fuss made.”
“Very wise, as doubtless there would have been a good deal of interest, given his choice of bride.”
There was nothing Miss Bingley could say at this point, so she offered her guest more tea. The moment Miss Armstrong left, however, Miss Bingley got into a hackney and journeyed to Bingley House.
Chapter Sixty-Six
It lacked but two days until Christmas when Mr. Darcy and Mr. Richard Fitzwilliam – now no longer a Colonel – were on their way to Meryton. Mr. Fitzwilliam was in the jolliest of humours as he waxed poetic as to his future with the lovely Miss Jane Bennet.
Mr. Darcy only half-listened to his cousin’s jubilant exclamations, but managed to nod at the appropriate times, thus escaping censor.
He was thinking of Miss Elizabeth.
It had been weeks since he had last seen her, but she had never been far from his thoughts. Had she thought of him? Or had she forgotten him? Perhaps an eligible young man had moved into the neighbourhood and had courted her? Or perhaps she had decided that Mr. Darcy would never be able to release his anger, and had decided against him permanently? Or perhaps she had come to realise that anger and love could indeed reside in the same heart? And could Miss Elizabeth not help him diffuse that anger? Perhaps she had reconsidered her position!
When the carriage pulled up to Netherfield Park, Mr. Fitzwilliam leapt from his seat, with Mr. Darcy following far more sedately. Mr. Bingley appeared immediately to welcome them.
“Darcy! Colonel!”
“Colonel no longer,” Mr. Fitzwilliam corrected him.
“You have resigned your commission, then?”
“Yes; I have done my share for king and country.”
It was clear that Mr. Bingley bore his ex-rival no ill will, as he clapped Mr. Fitzwilliam on the back and said, “You have done more than your share, Fitzwilliam, and I thank you for it.”
The three men went into the house. Georgiana Bingley was awaiting them at the entryway, looking nervous. But her cousin gave her no time to fret, as he hugged her immediately, saying, “Georgiana, you look beautiful! Country living always did agree with you.”
Flushed with pleasure, Mrs. Bingley then turned hopefully to her brother, who placed an arm about her shoulders rather awkwardly and merely murmured, “Georgiana.”
“I have refreshments in the drawing room,” Mrs. Bingley said, quietly.
Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were awaiting the guests, and rose to their feet when everyone entered the drawing room. After bows, curtsies, and the usual enquiries about the journey, the two travelers were made to feel welcome with cups of tea, cucumber sandwiches and apple tarts.
“I do not recall these being offered here at Netherfield before; they are delicious,” Mr. Fitzwilliam said, reaching for his third tart.
Mrs. Hurst smiled at him. “Apple tarts are a family recipe. They are a favorite of my brother and myself, and my new sister likes them very much as well. Caroline never cared for them, which is why you did not have the opportunity to enjoy them when she… ” And here she trailed off. There was a moment’s silence, as no-one knew quite what to say about Miss Bingley.
“They are now quite a favourite of mine as well,” Mr. Fitzwilliam said, hastily. “Darcy?”
“Eh? Oh, yes, quite good,” was the absent-minded reply.
“Georgiana is invited to Longbourn this afternoon,” Mr. Bingley commented. “But I thought perhaps we might all go.”
“I am ready now,” Mr. Fitzwilliam said, standing up immediately.
The company laughed at him, good-naturedly. “Sit down, Colonel – er, Fitzwilliam – no one else is ready to leave just yet,” Mr. Bingley said.
