Page 179 of Near Pemberley

“It was,” Darcy said quietly. “One for which I bear considerable responsibility.”

Jane looked up. “You were not malicious. You believed you were protecting your friend.”

“There is that, yet I had no right to judge your feelings. What did I truly know? I thought your sister was expecting my addresses at Hunsford.”

Jane suppressed a smile. “Yes, Elizabeth might have said you were somewhat in advance of yourself.” She shrugged. “You have already done more for my family than anyone could reasonably ask. I believe you have repaid it many times over.” She smiled sadly.

Darcy hesitated before continuing. “I have told Bingley everything. Not long ago. I thought…”

Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the handkerchief she held. “I see.”

“He was justifiably very angry with me. But he has a sister to think of…”

Jane looked at him quietly.

“You have a sister, too.”

He smiled faintly. “After Elizabeth and I marry, you will be my sister as well.” He hesitated. “I should not presume to decide your future. If Bingley comes… it shall only be because you wish it.”

Jane understood perfectly.

She met his eyes with quiet sincerity. “I never ceased wishing for his happiness.”

Darcy inclined his head. “It is enough.”

Chapter XXXIV

Before returning home, Darcy made himself attend to one important errand.

As he mounted the familiar steps of Bingley’s residence, he found himself reflecting that he had faced Mr. Bennet with considerably less uneasiness. Asking for a daughter’s hand had been a straightforward matter. Renewing a friendship one had nearly destroyed required rather more courage.

The butler admitted him immediately. “Mr. Darcy.”

“Is Mr. Bingley at home?”

“He is, sir. If you would follow me.”

The drawing-room door opened. Bingley stood by the window with one hand resting upon the sash. At the sight of Darcy, genuine pleasure crossed his face before a trace of awkwardness succeeded it, and his hand dropped to his side. Their last meeting had not been an easy one. Though they had parted without bitterness, neither had forgotten it.

Darcy spared them both the uncertainty. “Charles.” He extended his hand.

Bingley’s shoulders loosened. His smile returned at once, and he crossed the space between them in two eager strides. “Darcy.”

Their hands met warmly. Bingley clasped Darcy’s a moment longer than form required, then released it with a small, almost relieved laugh.

They sat. Bingley settled on the edge of his chair, knees angled towards Darcy, while Darcy took the seat opposite. For a few moments, they spoke only of ordinary matters. Bingley adjusted his cuff twice and once glanced towards the window as though the weather had suddenly become deserving of study.

Then he drew a breath and rubbed his palms over his knees. “I could not go. Not with Ca…”

Darcy interrupted. “There is no need to justify it. I understand. Truly.”

Bingley’s mouth tightened briefly. He nodded, lowering his gaze, then looked up again with visible gratitude. “So, how is Miss… how is the family?”

“They have had better days. But that solution I spoke of – now there is a plan.”

Bingley’s brows rose. He shifted closer to the edge of his seat. “What is it?”

“The family will move to my Ramsgate property. They will start anew. Miss Lydia does not deserve to spend the rest of her life paying for one youthful mistake merely to satisfy society. She deserves the opportunity to begin again. She is just a child.”