Page 48 of Miss Bingley’s Return

“Ah, then that explains it,” said Mr. Harrington.

“What does?”

The gentleman glanced at Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley again. “If she does not abandon Darcy and make her way to us within five minutes, I shall eat my hat.”

“Perhaps you should explain your comment,” pressed Jane.

“I have no objection.” Mr. Harrington paused, reflecting on his knowledge of Mr. Darcy. “Darcy has long resisted the advances of many women. A woman who thinks nothing of his position, cares little for his wealth, and demands good behavior is outside his experience. Add to that your sister’s intelligence, her wit, and her fire, and I suspect he found her irresistible.”

The notion amused Jane. The unflappable Mr. Darcy and the uncompromising Elizabeth Bennet. It explained their behavior in a way she had not considered before, but now made more sense than anything else she’d pondered.

“You make a study of characters, it seems,” said Jane to the gentleman before her. “I have rarely heard such an accurate estimation of my sister’s behavior. To own the truth, I doubt either of them understands it themselves.”

Mr. Harrington grinned. “I may be incorrect, but the signs are all there. Whether Darcy will take the acquaintance further I do not know, but I have never seen him pay any woman a tenth of the attention he offers your sister.”

“That is most diverting, Mr. Harrington. I shall watch the coming weeks with keen interest.”

With a nod, the gentleman said: “While it is amusing, the state of Darcy’s interest in another woman is not of concern to me. Miss Bingley’s efforts do not appear to be bearing fruit. If Bingley was enamored with you, I would step aside and not interfere. But I sense you are not committed either.”

“For my part, I am not,” said Jane, her cheeks warming just a little. “I cannot speak for Mr. Bingley, but I suspect his affections lie in another direction.”

“Excellent,” said the gentleman. “With that clarified, I should like to come to know you better. As we only have a few minutes until we are interrupted, we should get on with it.”

That interruption came only a few moments later, exactly as Mr. Harrington said. When Miss Bingley stepped into their circle, engaging Jane in conversation, throwing a few covert glances at Mr. Harrington, showing him how unwelcome she found his presence, Jane caught the gentleman’s eye; understanding passed between them. He did not resist, and drifted away a few moments later, though his look promised their conversation was not at an end.

Miss Bingley noticed nothing of this, and soon she directed Jane back to Mr. Bingley. The satisfaction in her expression was far more confident than she had any right to be, but Jane kept her own counsel.

The dance was becoming most diverting, and Darcy watched it with keen interest. Miss Bingley had seemed determined to keep his attention to herself, but this had only persisted until she caught sight of Miss Bennet with Harrington. Any expectation he might have that she would intervene at once evaporated when she turned to him.

“What do you think of my brother, Mr. Darcy?”

It was a clumsy delivery, and amused Darcy even more. “As you know, Bingley has been my friend these past five years. That has not changed at all.”

Miss Bingley regarded him, a hint of exasperation escaping through her composure. “You are not blind, sir. You are not unaware of Charles’s attentions to Miss Bennet.”

“Yes, I am aware of it,” replied Darcy, “though I have noticed it is not as focused as it was in Hertfordshire.”

Bingley, he noted, was standing across the room and was now speaking with another lady with whom Darcy had only the most superficial acquaintance. Unlike his demeanor Darcy had seen so many times with other women, the conversation appeared restrained, almost perfunctory. Miss Bingley did not appear bothered by it all—Darcy knew if it had been Miss Whitcombe, she would have been across the room in an instant.

“Yet I have every expectation of them making a match,” said Miss Bingley.

“That is most curious, Miss Bingley,” replied Darcy, wondering if she would reveal something if he nudged her just a little. “When we returned from Hertfordshire, you were adamant that your brother avoid Miss Bennet altogether. As I recall, you contended she was most unsuitable.”

“And you suggested she did not look on my brother with unusual favor,” said Miss Bingley.

“Nothing has happened since then to alter that perception.”

It was several moments before Miss Bingley said anything, as she appeared to be trying to understand how best to respond. Darcy waited, determined he would not make it easy for her. The truth was that he now knew Miss Bennet’s feelings had been warmer than he supposed, but her knowledge of Bingley’s indecision had cooled that interest—let Miss Bingley make of it what she wished.

“It seems we were both mistaken,” said she at length, though she sounded like the admission cost her something she was not willing to give. “When I saw my brother moping about the house after our return, there was no other choice—I needed to right the wrong.”

Darcy refrained from laughing by the barest margin. Miss Bingley altruistic? She was far too intent upon grasping that which she thought life owed her to confess error. Had she any say in the matter, she would have connected her brother to the highest-born lady of society she could find, one of the few who tolerated her presence perhaps. When that proved an impossibility, she had settled for ladies of more modest standing, then turned to Georgiana in desperation. Nothing she had done had risen from concern for her brother.

“The question is,” said Darcy, “what is Miss Bennet’s opinion?”

Miss Bingley huffed with disdain. “Do you suppose that mother of hers will allow a mark such as my brother to escape?”

“Mrs. Bennet is not here,” said Darcy, quite reasonably.