Page 13 of Miss Bingley’s Return

As Darcy walked into the house, his shoes clattering on the tiles, sunlight streaming through the hall, he looked toward the sitting-room, then decided instead to go to his study so he could think better. When he reached the room, he closed the door behind him and sat at his desk, turning a quill between his fingers and looking out the window, though seeing nothing.

What Darcy had told them was the truth—he often went long periods during the season without speaking much to Bingley, though seeing him at events would often break up those absences. Yet he had not discussed certain . . . other complications where Bingley was concerned. That was not Darcy’s story to tell, and he had little information regardless, so he would not speak of it to Miss Bennet or anyone else, though he understood the potential problems.

A noise beyond the door caught Darcy’s attention, and a moment later he realized Georgiana had returned. As the silence of his study and the company of his thoughts were no longer palatable, he rose to quit the room and join his sister. Darcy knew Georgiana would wish to hear about his encounter with Mrs. Gardiner, and though she would look at the possibility with apprehension, she would also wish to make Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth’s acquaintance.

The more he thought on it, the more he realized that the Bennet ladies were the sort who might become excellent friends with his sister. Miss Bennet would put her at ease, while Miss Elizabeth’s confidence, he suspected, would be contagious. It would not do to force an acquaintance too soon, but the proposed dinner with the Gardiners would provide the pretext for an introduction.

And suddenly Darcy looked at this surprising visit with more anticipation than alarm. Whatever happened between Bingley and Miss Bennet would happen—Darcy could neither prevent nor manage it. Best to observe and offer his support when or if it became necessary.

Chapter IV

Uncle Gardiner had much the same estimation of Mr. Darcy as his wife.

“Lizzy,” said he, exercising obvious patience, “I have never met a more upright man than Darcy. In all his dealings with me—in everything that I have heard of him—he acts with the utmost propriety. There is no one of any substance in London who will give him a bad name.”

Mr. Gardiner gave a mischievous smile. “His reputation of aloofness, however, is well earned, from what I understand, though I have seen nothing of it. Given what I know of him and what your aunt has told me, I expect he was choosing his words to you with care.”

“Do you suppose he is hiding something?” pressed Elizabeth.

“Rather, I would say if he does not speak, he feels it is not his place.” Mr. Gardiner reached out to pat Elizabeth’s hand. “I suspect you ran afoul of Mr. Darcy’s societal persona, Lizzy. Everyone has bad moments. I do not know what provoked his behavior in Meryton—all I ask is that you remain open to the possibility there is something more to him than you have seen.”

“What of Mr. Bingley, Uncle?” asked Jane.

Mr. Gardiner sat back in his chair. “That is a question I cannot answer. The elder Bingley had an excellent reputation, but I met him only once. I know little of the younger Bingley—he is not so public a figure as Darcy.”

Elizabeth exchanged a look with her sister. “It appears we know nothing more than we did before,” said she, feeling a little dispirited.

“Perhaps,” said her uncle. “But you are both intelligent and possess good principles. That is what will carry you forward.”

With that, they had no choice but to be satisfied.

When Miss Bingley called three days after the shopping trip, there was something different about her. The gracious manners she had displayed at their last meeting were still present, but changed somehow, or perhaps more tightly controlled. It was more intentional and less performative, if that had any meaning.

“I have come to invite you to a small gathering,” said Miss Bingley when they had exchanged pleasantries. She smiled as if to put them at ease. “It is not a formal affair, just a few acquaintances, an intimate gathering. Please say you will oblige me by attending.”

“We have no objection,” said Jane, choosing her words with care, “but we have not received our evening wear from the modiste yet.”

“That is not an issue, Jane,” said Miss Bingley. “I am not hosting a ball.”

“It will be at your house?” asked Elizabeth.

“My brother’s house,” clarified Miss Bingley. “He will, of course, attend.”

“Will you be our only acquaintances present?” pressed Elizabeth.

Miss Bingley smiled, but there was something artificial in it, as if she did not wish to reply but knew she must. “Hurst and Louisa will be there, of course, and Mr. Darcy has spoken of his willingness to attend. But that is the point, is it not—your reason for being in London is to receive introductions to our friends. This will be the first opportunity in an intimate setting with few expectations.”

“The day of our shopping excursion,” said Elizabeth, “we met Mr. Darcy on Bond Street.”

Curious though she was about how Miss Bingley would respond, she was disappointed when the woman remained impassive. There was, she thought, a certain tightness about her eyes, but Elizabeth could not even be certain she saw it. Miss Bingley could not wish to keep Mr. Darcy away from them—she had just confirmed the gentleman’s presence the night of her soiree.

“Mr. Darcy is an excellent gentleman, Eliza. His friendship with Charles is beyond any price.”

“We shall, of course, attend,” said Jane.

“Excellent,” said Miss Bingley.

After she went away, Elizabeth turned to Jane, arching a brow. Jane did not accept the challenge.