“Of course. I shall see that my man has everything in order.” With another nod, he left his hosts and returned to his apartment.
In less than an hour, they were in the carriage.
“I pray that once you see Mrs Hurst, you will find the situation not as desperate as it may at present seem. Your hasty departure, without taking leave of your neighbours, is enough to suggest it is serious,” Darcy said. He was seated beside Bingley and across from Miss Bingley.
Miss Bingley regarded him with rounded eyes. “Oh, not to worry aboutthat. I sent notes to several families to inform them we were returning to London.”
Darcy was astonished she had found the time or, in her anxiety about her sister, had thought to do it.
“Caroline and I wrote them last night, after the ball, to be delivered this morning,” Bingley said, likely seeing Darcy’s surprise. “That was when we received her summons—during the ball. It seemed better not to say anything about it at the time, not with so many people in the house.”
But why had he, or Miss Bingley, not told Darcy? That way, he would have been prepared to travel. He tried to hold his tongue, but could not. “Why have you closed the house? Do you expect your absence to be long enough to justify it?”
Asking was selfish, if not rude. All he had wanted was a little more time to ascertain the depth of Miss Elizabeth’s connexion to Mr Collins and come to an understanding with her. Given it was the end of November, he could not have remained in Hertfordshire much longer, but Miss Elizabeth and her father deserved to know that he intended to maintain the connexion—rather more than that. With Netherfield closed, he lost his easy excuse to be in the neighbourhood. Besides, what about Bingley and Miss Bennet?
Brother and sister exchanged a look he did not understand, and there was a long pause before Miss Bingley spoke.
“We are unlikely to return for some time. Perhaps not until the spring or-or longer.”
Darcy jerked backwards, and he gaped at Bingley. “What about Miss Bennet?”
Bingley turned to the window, unwilling or unable to respond. Miss Bingley shot her brother a worried look, and again the carriage was silent, making the sound of the wheels and horses’ hooves appear all the louder.
“We have been deceived in her. As eager as I am to see Louisa, I am glad to have the excuse to leave Meryton,” Miss Bingley said at length. She sniffed and kept her head tilted such that Darcy could not read her expression.
“What do you mean?” The words burst from him without volition.
Both Bingleys sighed audibly. Again, it took a moment before either of them spoke, irritating Darcy while he recognised he should have more patience, because clearly something deeply distressing had occurred. Miss Bingley gave him a brief, regretful smile.
“I overheard her talking to her mother. They were plotting about how to force Charles into making an offer of marriage. She is mercenary. What they said was…disgusting.” She covered her face with her hands, making her voice muffled when she continued. “I thought she was my friend.”
Bingley sighed heavily. “I made it as plain as I could that I was not interested in settling down at present. I make it a practice to always do that, to ensure I am not raising expectations until I am absolutely certain of my intentions. I thought she genuinely liked me, but to hear Mrs Bennet and others speaking of me marrying Miss Bennet in such a fashion, so freely and as though I had already proposed, was shocking.”
Darcy opened his mouth to press him on the matter. Bingley’sbehaviourhad given rise to speculation regardless of what he might have said to Miss Bennet—not only amongst the people in Meryton, but also in Darcy.
Nevertheless, Darcy held his tongue. His companions were distressed as it was. Besides, did he not also make it a practice to hint—if not outright state—that he had no thoughts of matrimony, if only to slow potential gossip? Beyond that, he was exhausted, and his companions were likely even more so; he doubted they had slept at all. It was only too easy for an argument to erupt under such circumstances, and that was something he wished to avoid.
Still, displeasure at their hasty departure made Darcy squirm. Bingley ought to have gone to Longbourn to have an open, frank conversation with Miss Bennet and her father. But he was not Bingley’s keeper, and since Bingley had informed the lady he sought nothing more than friendship, she ought not to have talked of the possibility of them making a match, not in private and especially not in a crowded setting.
Darcy was disturbed by Miss Bingley’s report. If Mrs and Miss Bennet had truly spoken offorcingBingley to propose, it went far beyond wishing he had not meant what he said or that his feelings about marriage had altered. It spoke to a deceitful, vulgar nature Darcy would never have guessed either lady possessed. Yet, Bingley’s actions, even from the first evening of his acquaintance with Miss Bennet—
Darcy shook his head as though driving the discordant thoughts from it. The Bingleys were good, honest people. Unless Miss Bingley had completely misunderstood what she had heard—and she was too sensible to make such a misstep—there was likely even more they were not telling him. What she had said was terrible enough, and he continued to struggle to reconcile it with what he knew of Mrs and Miss Bennet.
Whatever her mother and older sister had planned, I know with absolute conviction that Miss Elizabeth wasnota part of it.
Some while later, once his companions appeared more at ease, Darcy found himself tentatively asking, “Are you certain you fully understood what you heard? It is difficult to believe. Miss Bennet seems so…good-natured.”
“I am afraid you thought entirely too well of that family, Mr Darcy,” Miss Bingley said, sharpness in her voice.
He said no more and followed his hosts’ example and studied the passing landscape.
Not Miss Elizabeth. I shall return to her as soon as possible.
If he had been in possession of his wits earlier, he would have removed to an inn in Meryton for two or three days, though it might have been cruel to abandon his friends when they were so clearly discomposed. It was too late for regrets, in any case, and although he had not intended to leave Hertfordshire that day, there were several matters he needed to attend to in town, including purchasing gifts to give Georgiana and his aunt at Christmas. He would then travel through Meryton on his way to Worcestershire. He was not wrong about Miss Elizabeth, and he needed to see her again to determine whether she might learn to love him as he knew he did her. Even in the unlikely circumstance that he discovered she was engaged to Mr Collins—and every feeling said she was not, else he would go to Longbourn as soon as possible—he would at least take his leave of the Bennets properly.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
Elizabeth went for her customary early morning walk the day after the ball. Even though she knew it was unreasonable to expect to see Mr Darcy—she had managed only a few hours of sleep, and it must be the same for him—she returned to Longbourn disappointed. There were several matters she wanted to discuss with him as soon as possible. First, what did he know about the sudden turn in Mr Bingley’s behaviour towards Jane? Elizabeth had not thought of it until she was in bed, but she had hardly seen Mr or Miss Bingley after supper, especially the former. Once, she had caught sight of him, but as soon as she moved in his direction, he disappeared into the crowd. Second, why was Mr Darcy’s mood so changeable? That was a far more delicate topic, and she did not know how she would broach it, but she believed something was disturbing him. If, as a friend, she could provide assistance, she would.
