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He gave her a tentative smile. “Do you—?” He cleared his throat and started again. “Do you have many other acquaintances in town?”
“Oh yes. This is my third stay at Gracechurch Street, so I am acquainted with many of my aunt and uncle’s friends.”
Mr. Bingley was silent for a moment. Had she said something to distress him? “Do you have any particular friends among their number?” he finally asked, his eyes fixed on distant shrubberies.
Oh. Oh. Now she understood what troubled him. “I always enjoy visiting the Waite family. They have two daughters my age.”
His head turned toward her. “No sons?”
“Yes.” Mr. Bingley’s face fell. “But Mr. Robert Waite is quite a bit older and lives with his wife in York.”
She heard Mr. Bingley’s relieved sigh. Surely it was a little wicked of Jane to find his anxiety amusing, and yet his reaction warmed her, giving her hope that he still entertained feelings for her.
They strolled along the path in silence for several minutes. The only sounds were the crunching of gravel under their feet, the singing of birds, and the muted noises of distant city streets. Mr. Bingley seemed to be growing pensive once more. “Have you enjoyed London?” he asked.
“Yes, very much. There is always so much to do.”
The following silence was uneasy. Apparently quite agitated, Mr. Bingley released her arm and walked with his hands folded behind him. What was distressing him? “I suppose you have been much occupied since arriving in town,” he said eventually.
Jane did not know why this subject weighed so heavily upon him, but she could only answer honestly. “My schedule has not been terribly busy.”
“But you have been in town for two months together!” He whirled to face her. “And you did not once call upon Caroline and Louisa? I thought we were better friends than that.”
Jane was momentarily struck dumb as a series of realizations dawned on her. Not only had his sisters concealed Jane’s presence in London, but they also had deceived him about her visit
.
Astonishment turned into indignation, and then…the small flicker of irritation that she had tried to suppress was building into a blaze. Her body had grown stiff and tight while an unaccustomed pressure built inside her head. If Caroline Bingley had appeared at that moment, Jane might have been tempted to strike her.
Or…at least speak a sharp word.
Jane gaped at Mr. Bingley, unable to utter a syllable. Under ordinary circumstances she would do anything to avoid the appearance of conflict between her account and another person’s; such disputes always led to so much unpleasantness.
She could conjure various reasons why his sisters had not told him the truth: there had been a mistake, her visit had slipped his sisters’ minds, or perhaps he had misunderstood them. But the thought of excusing their subterfuge threatened to choke her. Truthfully no possible reason was likely—save their malice and dislike of Jane’s family.
Her entire body shook under the power of a strong emotion she could not identify. What is happening to me? Finally, after several attempts to speak, Jane found her voice. “I called upon your sisters at the Hursts’ townhouse—only a few days following my arrival in town.”
Mr. Bingley’s eyes grew round. “You did?”
Jane nodded vigorously. “Miss Bingley returned my visit some weeks later. She sat with me and my aunt Gardiner in the drawing room.”
Mr. Bingley’s hands clenched into fists. “She visited Gracechurch Street previously?”
“Yes. When my aunt returns, you may apply to her for the truth of the story.”
“No.” His voice was harsh as he averted his gaze. Jane’s heart sank, while her head throbbed with ever-mounting pressure. If Mr. Bingley did not believe her, they could have no possible future together.
“Additional confirmation is unnecessary,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “I do not doubt your account.”
Jane’s breath caught. He was prepared to believe her rather than his sisters?
“I knew that Caroline and Louisa did not think…” he muttered to himself. “But I never believed they would…stoop to falsehoods…” He shook his head.
He took a halting step in her direction. “My apologies, Miss Bennet. It seems my family has done you a grave disservice and treated you in a most infamous manner. I pray you, believe me when I say I knew nothing of it.”
He was so close that she could have caressed his wavy golden hair or traced his lips with a fingertip or…
She forced herself to focus on his eyes instead. “Of course.”
