Page 96 of A Question of Character

“How little?” He regarded his friend steadily.

“A month.”

“No.”

Bingley’s face fell.

“I think perhaps two or longer should suffice.” Darcy held back a laugh as Bingley perked up in surprise.

Bingley chuckled. “You negotiate badly.”

“I negotiate optimistically.” Darcy folded his hands before him. “What precisely are you asking?”

“I should value your company for as long as you can spare. I have never managed an estate,” Bingley reminded him. “You understand such matters better than anyone I know. More than that...” He hesitated, unusually uncertain. “You are my friend.”

Darcy’s decision required no further consideration. “I shall come.” There was never any question, provided Georgiana is content to remain here with Mrs. Annesley.”

He was certain Richard could be persuaded to call weekly while his regiment was stationed nearby.

Bingley clapped his hands once. “Excellent!”

“You celebrate before consulting my sister.”

“I have every confidence she will not object.”

Darcy hoped he was right. And he hoped, within a fortnight perhaps, to stand once more in the Longbourn drawing room, to discover whether Elizabeth Bennet had missed him even a fraction as much as he had missed her.

“There is another matter,” Darcy said.

Bingley, who had been halfway through a satisfied survey of the library, focused his attention to him. “You say that with the air of a man about to remove half my pleasure.”

“I hope not.”

“That is not reassuring.”

“It concerns your sisters. Or more particularly, Miss Bingley.”

Bingley’s amusement dimmed by cautious degrees. “Ah.”

“They are to be guests as well, I assume.”

“Indeed, they have already told me of their intentions.” Bingley looked nervous. “Caroline and Louisa mean to accompany me. Hurst will come because Louisa does, and because Netherfield has plenty of opportunity for sport.”

“Naturally.”

“I know Caroline can be…” Bingley searched for a word, failed, and settled upon honesty. “Caroline.”

Darcy rose and walked to the mantel, where a small clock ticked with irritating precision. The conversation would be uncomfortable, but it had become necessary. Miss Bingley’s hopes had long ceased to be subtle, and what he had once permitted through indifference would now be unkind to everyone.

“I must speak plainly.”

Bingley sat a little straighter. “Very well.”

“I will not offer for your sister. You must see this, especially knowing I have formed an attachment elsewhere.”

His friend nodded amiably. “Naturally.”

“I have reason to believe she has entertained hopes in that direction.”