Page 28 of Most Truly the Gentleman

Regardless of how it appeared, the true source of difficulty was not the impressions of Bingley’s neighbours, but his own lack of resolution. He had not intended to dance with her at all, though he had secretly hoped that the chance of a brief conversation might arise. He hardly knew how he had found himself bowing before her and making his request. He need not have sat by her at dinner, either; the table could accommodate four couples, but he had not even considered the open chair next to Bingley.

He remembered a moment during supper: the officers and ladies at an adjoining table had become rather raucous in their laughter, and he had begun to feel the familiar sensation of being overwhelmed by a superfluity of sound he could not decipher. She had leant towards him and said, “If only one might appear in public with a bit of wool in one’s ears on such occasions, how much more comfortable they might be.”

It was a ridiculous notion, of course. Anyone who did such a thing would be laughed from the room. But her humour and the fact of her sympathy, given just when he felt very alone in his affliction, soothed his ragged temper, and helped him to focus upon the speech of his companions over all the many other noises which seemed to demand his attention.

She was an excellent lady, and he hoped very much that she had not developed expectations of him, for they could never be fulfilled. For all that she was the brightest, happiest, most engaging lady of his acquaintance, her lack of both connexions and wealth prohibited any closer association than that which was proper between neighbours, and perhaps in time, between a gentleman and his good friend’s sister by marriage. If only she could produce an uncle with a baronetcy, even an impoverished one, he could see his way to overlooking her lack of dowry and the impropriety of her mother and youngest sisters. If both her uncles were solicitors and she had no connexion to trade, he might possibly be able to overcome his scruples, so enticing was the prospect of a life with such a lady by his side.

As things stood, however, it was not to be contemplated. The inescapable truth of it sat in his chest like a leaden weight. His father had often told him that what cannot be cured must be endured, and so, on the road to London, he made a new resolution: to conquer this fascination and be contented once again.

They arrived in London well before dinner, leaving time enough to arrange appointments with those they needed to see. The next day, they all departed Darcy House in the morning, Bingley to see his man of business on some matter which had arisen with the interests he maintained in the north, and, Darcy strongly suspected, to discuss what he might reasonably be able to settle on a bride with no dowry of her own. He and Fitzwilliam were to meet with the colonel of the regiment bound for India, after which they meant to pay a call at Matlock House to see Darcy’s aunt and sister, as well as Mrs Beresford.

As it happened, Fitzwilliam’s friend Colonel Parker had several positions he was looking to fill, and was willing to oblige his old friend by taking on a bothersome ensign. Darcy committed to purchasing the commission, and the business was resolved inside an hour. He thought Colonel Parker might rather be looking forward to attempting the reform, or at least the restraint, of such a man.

They spent much of the day at Matlock House. Lady Matlock was out, but Mrs Beresford and Georgiana were happy to entertain them. His sister was in better spirits than when he had left town, and he was pleased to note that she was getting along well with Mrs Annesley.

Bingley awaited them when they returned to Darcy House, wasting no time in giving them the unexpected news that Hurst and his sisters were now in London, residing at Hurst’s town house. “A note arrived not an hour ago. Was I not clear that we planned to return on Monday, or very soon thereafter?”

“You were perfectly clear,” Darcy said. He held his tongue regarding his suspicions as to why this had occurred; this was Bingley’s family and he must handle it.

“Perhaps Hurst has some urgent business?” Fitzwilliam suggested doubtfully.

“Perhaps. Though I should have thought Caroline would have mentioned that. We are invited to join them for dinner tonight. Rather forcefully invited, if I read it aright,” Bingley replied. “I intend to accept, and I hope at least one of you will join me, for I fear some scheme is afoot, and you are both far cleverer than I.”

At the appointed hour, all three gentlemen were shown into Hurst’s drawing room. Bingley expressed his surprise at their coming to town, which his younger sister waved away with a claim that gentlemen’s business always took longer than they expected, and she and Louisa had far rather spend a week or two in town than be confined to a country manor with no entertainment. Her brother protested that his business was going quite well, actually, and that if Darcy and Fitzwilliam were able to complete theirs this week, he would wish to be off for Hertfordshire on Monday morning.

“Oh, Charles,” she sighed as though he were being terribly foolish. “Surely you cannot mean to come all the way to London only to turn around almost immediately? We might as well stay a fortnight, now that we are here. Covent Garden is opening a new play on the tenth which is the subject of some excitement, and I thought we might attend.”

“The tenth!” Bingley exclaimed. “That is over a week after I intended to return to Netherfield. Indeed, my neighbours expect my return by Wednesday at the latest, for that is what I told everyone.”

“Send a note to Sir William Lucas that you have been delayed, and the entire county will have heard of it by nightfall,” Miss Bingley suggested. She and her sister exchanged a knowing look and a smirk.

The butler announced dinner then, and over the meal Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst conspired to keep the conversation firmly upon the subject of London and all the delights to be found there, proposing outings to the theatre, the opera, even the British Museum, which was of no true interest to anyone in the party save Darcy. They spoke of buying new gowns, suggesting with false dismay that this enterprise might delay their return to Hertfordshire even further, for modistes were shockingly slow these days.

Their stratagem was plain, though they certainly thought themselves very clever and subtle: they would convince Bingley to remain for a fortnight, and then contrive a series of postponements until they had got him to let the place go entirely. Darcy thought it would not be as easy as they expected, but perhaps it would be best for all concerned if they were to succeed. He believed his friend’s attachment to Miss Bennet was sincere, but it was not of long duration, and could surely be overcome with time and distance. Bingley could do a great deal better in terms of both wealth and status, despite his roots in trade. And he himself would not again be placed in the tempting presence of the lady’s sister.

The business with Wickham presented an obstacle, but not a large one. He and Fitzwilliam could return to the area briefly, perhaps for no more than a night, to see Wickham’s militia commission resigned and his new one taken up, and to arrange for the reprobate’s transportation to Parker’s temporary regimental billet in Knightsbridge.

Yes, it would be for the best if he quietly lent his support to the sisters’ plan to keep Bingley in London indefinitely.

The gentlemen went about their own business separately the next day, Darcy visiting his bank to secure a draft for the cost of Wickham’s commission, then seeing his man of business to view the information on several possible investments. Bingley had another meeting about the matters which had brought him to town, and Fitzwilliam was assisting his great-aunt, Mrs Beresford, with some matter of her estate.

When they reunited at Darcy House for dinner, Bingley glumly reported that he had joined his sisters for luncheon, where they had attempted to convince him that Miss Bennet held him in no more esteem than any other gentleman, but would marry him on her mother’s insistence if he were to propose.

“This, I think, was their purpose in following me to town. They will be most displeased when they understand that I will not be swayed. I am thinking of returning to Netherfield without a hostess. Though I should like to entertain my neighbours again, I do not see how I might if my sisters insist upon remaining here.”

“I suspect your younger sister can be lured back to Hertfordshire,” Fitzwilliam commented with a speaking glance at Darcy.

“I have been thinking of remaining in town to spend the Festive Season with Georgiana,” Darcy countered.

Bingley frowned. “And here I have been hoping to convince you to bring Miss Darcy to Netherfield. We should all have such a jolly Christmas together.”

“I cannot bring her there if you have no hostess,” Darcy replied. He no longer had any intention of setting foot in Hertfordshire again once he had removed Wickham from the county, but the recalcitrance of Bingley’s sisters would provide a fine excuse if they held firm.

“I hope I may continue to impose upon your hospitality for a while, Bingley, even if we are to turn Netherfield into a glorified hunting lodge, without a frill or a piece of lace to be found,” Fitzwilliam said.

“You are very welcome at any time, I assure you, and for however long you please.”

“If you do not mind, I should like to stay until the end of February. I will join my aunt Beresford at Jordan Abbey on the first of March—that is her estate, Bingley.” He regarded his companions thoughtfully. “I have some news, which I must ask you both to keep in the strictest confidence for the time being.”