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A moment later, a servant put the step in place and opened the door for him to exit. As Bingley stepped down onto the gravel, he was surprised to find the lamps lit and the house aglow with warmth. “I had feared that with my delay you would not have been expecting me,” he told the footman who opened the door.

“Mrs. Nichols was certain you would return this evening, sir,” the man replied, before taking his trunk from the back of the carriage and following his master into the house. Mrs. Nichols, her manner composed but not without a certain maternal solicitude, greeted him at the door.

“I trust your journey was pleasant, sir?” she asked.

“It was not terribly unpleasant, and that is the best I can say,” he replied. “It is good to be home.”

Mrs. Nichols gave a small nod with a hint of a smile. “We are always glad to see you return, sir. Supper is ready in the small dining room, sir, if you wish, or I could have it brought to your study.”

“I shall dine in my study. My thanks, Mrs. Nichols,” he said, as he headed for the room in question.

The simple supper that a maid delivered a few minutes later was, by Bingley’s reckoning, better tasting than the finest food London had to offer. He did very little that evening, or at least it might seem that way to an observer, but inside his mind, he was turning over every word he would say the next day at Longbourn. His sleep was likewise fitful, as the excitement of his purpose would not allow his mind to be at ease.

He rose before dawn, much to the surprise of the household who were used to their master waking much later in the morning. Once his fast was broken, he found himself at loose ends, with many hours to pass before it would be acceptable to call on the Bennets. He paced the length of his library, ran his hands along the spines of books he had not the least desire to read, and, after a fashion, attempted to seat himself and compose a letter to a friend, but gave up when he twice wrote ‘Bennet’ despite intending to write ‘Barlow’.

When at last the hour tolled nine, Bingley determined that, given the nature of his errand and the country hours that Longbourn kept, it would not be entirely too early for him to call.

He set out at once, glad to find that his horse seemed eager for the exercise. Despite wishing he could allow the young gelding a gallop, he kept him to a swift trot. He did not wish to arrive looking as if there was reason for alarm.

The morning was mild for the season, with the air holding only a slight crispness that would very likely turn into frost within the week. Bingley’s spirits, though agitated, were buoyant as he rode down the familiar lane towards Longbourn. A young maid stood outside the house, holding two buckets which she quickly put down when she saw him. She hurried indoors, undoubtedly to inform the household of the visitor.

A stable hand appeared a moment later, tugging his cap in greeting as he hurried forward to take the reins. Bingley dismounted, and with a rapid step made his way to the door. It opened almost immediately as he approached. He entered and was greeted warmly by the very maid he had seen run inside a moment ago. He might not have noticed, had her face not still been brightened by the exercise.

She bobbed a curtsey, her cheeks flushed from exertion. “Mr. Bennet is not at home, sir,” she told him, “but Mrs. Bennet and the young ladies are all in the morning room, if it is them whom you wish to visit.”

Bingley thanked the young maid and declined her offer to show him thither, having called at Longbourn many times before. The walk down the corridor felt entirely too short. By the time he reached the partially ajar door, he had not had time to organise his thoughts or even think of what he ought to say in greeting to Miss Bennet. Still, he tapped lightly on the wood and pushed the door open.

The morning room was full. All the ladies within looked up at once. For a second, the room went entirely still. Jane’s cheeks flushed pink, and Elizabeth offered a knowing look that made Bingley’s stomach drop.

“Mr. Bingley!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, her voice all delight. “We did not know you had returned from London.”

“Only just returned, Mrs. Bennet,” he answered. “I wished to pay my respects at Longbourn as soon as I could. Permit me to hope, Madam, that you and all your family are well?”

Jane’s colour deepened and such an effect it had on Bingley that he did not attend at all to the reply. Mrs. Bennet repeated her answer once more, and only then could he answer that his family and Mr. Darcy were indeed all in good health, although intending to remain in town for the moment.

“I hope you should not follow their course, sir,” Mrs. Bennet answered, her voice holding an edge of alarm.

“I shall not. I could not be convinced to give up Netherfield in such a beautiful season,” he answered. “Alas, my sisters prefer town to the country and Darcy wished very much to be with his own sister, young as she is.”

“Then you are by yourself at Netherfield, sir?” Mrs. Bennet asked.

“Do not concern yourself with me, Madam,” he answered. “I shall miss having a hostess, but I shall not suffer overmuch. Mrs. Nichols will see me well taken care of.”

“Still, a bachelor hall is a lonely thing for a young gentleman,” Mrs. Bennet said. Then, she caught a movement from the corner of her eye and remembered her daughters. “Kitty, Mary, Lizzy. I am certain that Mrs. Ellington wishes for company. She has been alone far too long. Perhaps you might go and see if she requires anything.”

“We have no need,” Elizabeth began.

Mrs. Bennet cut her off quickly, smoothing her voice into one of pointed sweetness. “Nonsense, my love. Poor Mrs. Ellington has been quite confined to her chamber all morning, and it would be the height of unkindness to neglect her further. I insist you all go up and keep her company for a little while.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to object, but Mrs. Bennet’s eyes flashed with a warning look. “Go on, Lizzy. Mary, Kitty, too. I am sure she will be quite dull without some cheerful society. Take your work with you, that you might remain.”

Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her distress at such premeditation, but she could not disobey so direct an order from her mother. Obediently, she followed her other sisters out of the room. A moment later, Mrs. Bennet also removed herself from the room on the barest pretext, leaving the door open but the pair within very much alone.

Not knowing how long he would have with his beloved, Bingley gathered his courage and approached where she sat, taking up the chair nearest her. “Miss Bennet,” he said, but then could not stand the formality. “Jane, I—I am not often in the situation where I find myself unable to say what I wish.”

Jane smiled softly. “You need not make speeches, Mr. Bingley, if you do not wish it.”

“Yet you deserve speeches, dearest Jane.” He took her hands in his, his thumbs brushing gently over her knuckles. “Every moment I was away from you felt an agony. I cannot go on without knowing for certain if you return my regard. I love you. I have loved you, perhaps since the moment I met you.”