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Tomorrow he would call on his friend Charles Bingley.
Chapter 4, Mr. Bingley
December 17, 1812
“You proposed to Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” Bingley was astonished. “You proposed marriage? And she turned you down? She turned you down, Darcy? I don’t believe it!”
They were in the drawing room at Bingley’s London house. Darcy had wrestled with the matter but knew that he must tell his friend that he had been mistaken about Jane Bennet. He would lose a friend, and it might be too late to mend things in any event, but he could not leave things as they stood, with Bingley seeing Jane is an opportunist after his fortune rather than his love.
“She did indeed, and not gently. There could be no mistaking her meaning.” Darcy still felt the sting of Elizabeth’s words, the raw wound they had left upon him. She had been correct, his behavior had been inexcusable, but that did not lessen his pain.
“So what you’re saying is that the family isn’t as mercenary as you supposed? For all that the mother, Mrs. Bennet, is a . . .” Bingley struggled for the right word, “singular sort of woman?”
“I convinced myself, Bingley,” Darcy replied, looking his friend straight in the eye, “that you needed looking after. I further convinced myself that Miss Jane Bennet—given her family connections, and lack of property—was an unsuitable match for you.
“I was wrong in this. Her sister, Elizabeth, cared not a jot for my
fortune. Believe me, Bingley, for I have some small experience with fortune hunters, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet is not of that stamp. So there’s no reason to suppose that her sister motivated to secure your affections.”
Bingley was so stunned by this that, instead of taking a drink, he put his glass down, and looked at his friend with an expression of incredulity.
Finally, he said in a soft, calm voice, “Why are you telling me this now?”
Darcy felt a pang of regret, something akin to shame, that he had interfered with his friend’s destiny and on such flimsy grounds. It was true that he had been trying to protect him, but that was no excuse.
“I’m telling you now so that you may take steps to correct the misunderstanding I’ve caused. I know you still love Jane Bennet. Go back to Netherfield, Bingley. Spend Christmas there. Christmas is a season of joy and merriment, and there’s no better time to heal old wounds and make a fresh start. Start off the new year with the lady you love, rather than letting more time pass and risk her growing of a distant.”
Bingley remembered his claret and took a long draught of it before settling back in his seat. Darcy was surprised that he did not become angry, or upset, but was instead reflective.
“Is there anything else?” Bingley asked finally.
Darcy looked at his friend for a while before speaking. “Yes, I’m sorry. I ought not to have interfered. I hope you can mend things with Jane Bennet. I truly do, Bingley.”
Bingley considered this for a moment and then a small smile began to play on his lips. “The fault is mine for listening to you. I know you were only looking out for me, as I can be quite silly and impulsive—no, no I know it’s true—you are only trying to provide me with good counsel.”
Darcy was pleased that his friend bore him no ill will. He doubted that he would’ve been so forgiving in Bingley’s place; it seemed that Bingley had much to teach him.
“You think I ought to go to Netherfield for Christmas?” Bingley asked. “I daresay Caroline would not be pleased with that prospect . . .”
“She can stay in London.”
“Well, there’s that. But we always Christmas together, you know. And what if Miss Jane Bennet has moved on? A beautiful girl like that has, you know, many options.”
“She has fewer than she might have otherwise, given her financial situation, and her lack of social connections,” Darcy said. “No, I don’t mean that this is a mark against her, but a mark in your favor. Also, remember that Meryton is not London; there are a few suitors near Longbourn than in town.”
Bingley seemed cheered by this. “Perhaps it’s not too late,” he said. Then he looked up at Darcy sharply. “But what of your advice to consider the young lady’s financial and social position? Do you not stand by that?”
Darcy remembered the talks he had had with his friend about the importance of choosing wisely, and not letting one’s heart be carried away rather than making a prudent choice based on reason. He had not been wholly wrong about that, but given his own inability to forget Miss Elizabeth Bennet, he could see that it was not as simple a matter as he had supposed.
“I stand by it for myself,” Darcy said. “for I have to consider the best interest of Pemberley, that is a trust that has been handed down to me. Georgiana’s settlement will deplete the estate significantly. I must marry with that in mind.” He did not tell his friend that he had determined to increase the coffers of Pemberley so that he could marry whom he chose. “But you have no similar concern. You have plenty of money and have yet to purchase an estate. When you do, none of it will go to your sisters, who already have their settlements. Indeed, I would be very surprised if Caroline did not augment hers by a shrewd choice of husband.”
“So you are suggesting that I can marry whom I choose?”
“I’m saying your situation is different from mine. And yes, you’re free to marry for love rather than financial considerations.”
“I say, Darcy. You are absolutely right,” Bingley said with enthusiasm. “I shall Christmas at Netherfield. I will propose to Miss Jane Bennet, and I’ll be damned if she does not say yes.”
“Mr. Darcy is going to spend Christmas at Rosings Park,” said Caroline Bingley, peering at Darcy over her fork. “I am all astonishment. I thought his business in London was to keep him here with us in town.”
