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Lydia opened her mouth. She shut it again when her uncle gave her a long look over his spectacles.

Mrs Gardiner turned back to Darcy. She did not smile. There was pity in her face, and a kindness he had done nothing to earn. He would have borne Elizabeth's contempt more easily. That, at least, he had deserved. To be pitied by a near stranger at his friend's table was far worse.

He bowed his head a little in thanks. She returned it.

Dinner went on. The fish came and went. Mrs Bennet talked at length about the lace on Jane's wedding gown. Mr Gardiner asked Bingley about the state of the London road. No one spoke to Darcy, and he did not try to speak to anyone. Once, glancing along the table, he saw Elizabeth watching her aunt with a small crease between her brows. She did not glance his way.

***

With the wedding but two days away, there seemed little inclination to observe the usual separation after dinner; the entire party went together to the drawing room, where the conversation soon turned, inevitably, to the events of Saturday.

Caroline raised her eyebrows at this but said nothing. Neither did Darcy. This was Bingley’s household, after all, and Bingley had never been one to put much stock in propriety or the regular order of things.

Darcy stood by the bookcase near the door and pretended an interest in the spines.

“Darcy.” Bingley came up with two glasses of port and pressed one into his hand. “Are you quite well? That was an unhappy business at dinner.”

“I have known better evenings.”

“I am sorry for it. Lydia is very young.”

“It was not Miss Lydia who troubled me.” Darcy turned the glass in his fingers. “I should be grateful if Miss Elizabeth could let a single evening pass without making me feel the worst man in the kingdom.”

Bingley glanced towards the sofa. “Then tell her the truth. Tell her what Wickham did. She has a great deal of sense, Darcy. She would not think the worse of you for it.”

“She would not believe a word.”

“You cannot be sure of that.”

“I can. Her mind is made up about me, Charles. If I spoke against Wickham, she would only take it as more proof. She would say I was blackening another man's name to clear my own.” He drank. “No. Nothing I could say would change her opinion now.”

“Then say nothing. Only give her the chance to know you better.” Bingley meant every word. It was written all over him. “If you do, she will see what I see. She will understand why I count myself so lucky in my friend.”

Darcy did not answer.

He was thinking of the drawing room the evening before. He had stood there and told Caroline everything he had heard outside the haberdasher's. He had said that Charles ought to know it before Saturday. He had meant to protect his friend. Now that same friend stood before him and called himself lucky to have him. Darcy was ashamed. It was not a feeling he was used to, and he did not like it.

He set his glass down on the shelf.

“Charles, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you happy?” He lowered his voice beneath the music. “Truly happy? You will soon be brother to all this family. Their troubles will be yours. Their debts, their want of fortune, four sisters still unmarried. Does none of it worry you?”

Bingley did not reply at once. He watched his future mother-in-law lay down a card in triumph and call upon the whole table to admire it.

“I will not pretend I would not wish them a little more polish,” he said at last. “Or a little better situation when it comes to their funds. It will cost me a good deal to see them through the next few years. I know that.” He smiled. “But they are good people at heart, Darcy. Every one of them. I have even grown fond of Mrs Bennet.”

“I confess I find that hard to believe.”

“She is loud, and she frets, and she will manage everybody. But she has a kind heart. She fusses over me as if I were one of her own.” His voice softened. “My mother used to fuss in just that way. I had almost forgotten what it was like.”

Darcy had no answer to that.

“The other girls will marry in time,” Bingley went on. “Then the burden will be shared. Even if it were not, I would bear it gladly. There is nothing I would not do for Jane.” He hesitated and leaned closer. “I mean to speak to Mr Collins about the entail. Nobody has asked me to. Pray do not say a word to Jane. I should like it settled before she hears of it.”

He gave Darcy's arm a squeeze and crossed the room to the sofa. Jane looked up as he came, and her smile answered every doubt Darcy had ever raised about her heart.