Page 31 of The Work of a Moment

“Oddly?”

“Some greetings seemed overly eager while others… well, some people glanced at us as though we were the objects of interest.” Georgiana’s voice fell to a whisper. “Of gossip, even.”

Darcy let out a slow breath. Skilled as she may believe herself in manoeuvring within society, Miss Bingley was inept in her machinations—and flirtations. Had Hadley not reported her ‘smiling’ at a homely baronet?

“There is no gossip about you, dearest,” he hastened to assure his sister, praying she never learnt differently. “Much as Miss Bingley enjoys your company, she cannot be blind to the advantage your friendship provides her, and inevitably, others have noticed her desperate efforts to prove herself as near to you as a sister.” It was as close to the truth as Darcy would allow himself, and it seemed enough to be convincing.

“I am so relieved she will never be my sister.” Georgiana smiled ruefully. “A little distance from town will be good.”

Darcy patted her hand. “Pray do not send a note to Miss Bingley about your plan to go to Surrey, but if she calls unexpectedly, I will have Tompkins tell her you are indisposed.” Georgiana nodded uncertainly.

Reassured his sister knew nothing of the rumours nor the reasons behind Miss Bingley’s determined attentions, Darcy asked her to a game of backgammon. It was not until later, once Georgiana had gone to write a letter to Lady Matlock, that he met with Mrs Annesley to discuss the change in plans and enquire as to the Bingleys’ frequency in calling. Confused but acquiescent, she allowed that, “Miss Darcy sometimes seemed surprised by Miss Bingley’s eagerness to spend time with her. I believe she assumed it was less about her company than about furthering her connexion to you.”

“Did Miss Bingley claim an intimacy with my sister, or express her hope they would be sisters?”

“Never, sir.” Georgiana’s companion, a plump widow whose looks had not faded with age, gave him a sharp glance. Clearly, she understood his oblique reference to the schemes perpetrated at Ramsgate.

“Did Mr Bingley call with his sister, or alone?”

“Oh no, sir, never by himself. He accompanied Miss Bingley on two occasions, I believe, and then of course, he drove them to the park.” Mrs Annesley gazed at him worriedly. “I remained vigilant and stayed with Miss Darcy, despite a sense I had that Miss Bingley would prefer my absence.”

Darcy scowled, muttering, “Of course.”

“Her hopes were unfulfilled. I was in the room during each visit and accompanied Miss Darcy to Mr Hurst’s residence and to Gunter’s. The only time I was not by her side was when they rode in the park. My head ached, and it was especially bright that day. Miss Darcy was eager to enjoy the open air and insisted I remain at home.”

Darcy leant closer. “How long was she with the Bingleys?”

“No more than two hours, and Miss Darcy immediately came to see me upon her return. Beyond her worry over my headache, she was as cheerful as she had been before the excursion, if not a little tired from Miss Bingley’s sometimes excessive compliments.”

Darcy could not help chuckling. “Indeed, you are well-acquainted with the behaviours of the ton, and specifically with the manners of Miss Bingley and how arduous such company can be for my sister. I appreciate your watchfulness in guiding her. Truly.”

Hours later, Darcy sat at his desk, unwilling to leave his home, wary of being approached by anyone who might have heard the rumours and wished to pry—or even worse, offer congratulations. Speaking to Bingley was of utmost importance, but he could not chance being seen in town with him nor have him call alone at Darcy House. Unfortunately, having the knocker taken down and refusing to accept any callers would give rise to rumours among the servants, so instead he sat, plagued by vexatious thoughts.

On the journey from Kent, he thought he had determined his way through the mess—confront Bingley and tell him that his stupidity in Hertfordshire had cost him dearly. He would inform him of his sister’s perfidy in ensuring Miss Bennet was lost to him. Further, and most grievously, he would make clear that Miss Bingley’s letters and actions in the business of Georgiana had destroyed whatever connexion she once had to the Darcys.

Anticipating Bingley’s response to such a reprimand could not bring it into being, however, nor could it dampen any of the hum threatening Georgiana’s reputation. Would he succeed in quashing the rumours and Miss Bingley? Had he only had time to speak to Elizabeth, who had been so thoughtful about the consequences of Bingley’s actions at Netherfield…

“Elizabeth,” he breathed, bending over, his face in his hands.

In his anger and haste to get to his sister in town, he had not done well by Elizabeth. She had been so remorseful about her mistakes in the entire Bingley d’affaires and had shared both her smiles and her concern with him, and he had not deigned to bid her farewell. She would think him mannerless, expressing his anger after she had revealed Miss Bingley’s letters and then hurrying her back to the parsonage with hardly a fare-thee-well before leaving Kent entirely.

Would that he could write to his cousin and ask him to pass on a note to Elizabeth or gain the direction for her relations in town. Impropriety aside, he was wary of the post reaching Fitzwilliam at Rosings without interception. Although Darcy had said nothing of his interest in Elizabeth to him, his cousin knew him well enough to have noted it.

He will express my regrets, but will he convey my hopes—my intent—to see her again?

For months, he had carried the memory of the warm laughter and smiles he had glimpsed her sharing with others. He had thought it was the presence of others—the unwelcoming hostesses at Netherfield, the rudely condescending Lady Catherine, the insufferable Mr Collins—who dulled her liveliness and amiability when he was near. But he had learnt a harsh lesson that evening at the parsonage. She had not liked him—she never had. He was an idiot, overstuffed with pride and expectation. Since that evening—had it been only two days ago?—they had made amends, perhaps become friends. And yet, whatever ease they had earned during the time spent in one another’s exclusive company sharing tales of their sisters and vexatious friends and relations, he had erased any gains he had made towards winning her heart. With his graceless departure, the dislike she once had felt towards him would surely return.

He could not erase the memory of her stunned expression as he left her on the path, abandoning her as his own selfish concerns overtook any consideration for her feelings. He recalled Elizabeth’s pained smile after the ball when she had been mortified by her dawdling family’s appalling manners, the pent-up laughter and embarrassment in her expression at Rosings.

Damn.

Restlessly, he glanced at the small pile of invitations for dinners, card parties, and balls, knowing he must attend a few if he was to quell any rumours about Georgiana. His anger flared again, and he knew exactly what he must do.

Finally, he sent a card to the Albany, telling Bingley he had arrived in town and would call on him at his rooms, as he did not wish others, specifically Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley, to know he was here. Moments later, Darcy climbed the steps wearily to his bed. Heedless of whether his friend’s reply arrived before breakfast, Darcy would be at his door by ten o’clock.

CHAPTER 24

Charitable Thoughts