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Chapter Two

Darcy beheld the door to the Hursts’ house with great reluctance, staring at the ornate brass knocker as if it were a snake prepared to sink its fangs into his hand. The house itself was inoffensive, a respectable size and well-decorated, but the occupants…well, one occupant in particular.

Darcy ground his teeth. I must speak with Bingley. I have no choice. But the reminders did nothing to calm the queasy sensations in his stomach. This is unavoidable. That thought did not help either.

His conversation with Elizabeth at Hunsford Parsonage had elucidated several facts to Darcy, among them how wrong he had been about Jane Bennet’s feelings for Bingley. Elizabeth’s distress could only be a result of her sister’s deep suffering. It was also true that Bingley had been mired in melancholy since leaving Netherfield. Darcy had a duty to both Miss Bennet and Bingley to reveal what he knew to his friend.

How would Bingley react to the news? He would be within his rights to challenge Darcy to a duel for meddling in his life. More likely, he would simply toss Darcy out of the house with a command never to darken the door again. Darcy would be unable to argue; he certainly deserved such treatment.

Nothing matters as long as I repair the damage I have done. If he repeated this frequently enough, he might start to believe it.

Hopefully he could enjoy a moment alone with Bingley. Miss Bingley and her sister, Mrs. Hurst, were liable to monopolize the conversation, and Darcy could scarcely discuss Jane Bennet in their presence. If only Bingley had his own townhouse in London. Instead, his friend had stayed at Darcy House until Darcy’s departure for Rosings Park, and then he had repaired to the Hursts’ house in Grosvenor Square. Bingley was a forbearing sort, but even his formidable patience must be wearing thin after a month here.

Enough dawdling. Darcy steeled his spine and banged the knocker sturdily three times.

By the time the footman had taken his coat and directed Darcy to a drawing room, he was convinced this was the worst idea he had ever conceived. But he was committed now.

Darcy did not have long to wait before Bingley bounced into the room, giving Darcy’s hand a hearty shake. “Darcy! You are just what I need to liven up a dull day! Caroline and Louisa have gone shopping, and Hurst is off taking a nap somewhere.”

Thank God.

Bingley sat and immediately leaned forward eagerly in his chair. “I have not seen you since your return from Kent—what, it must be nearly two weeks now!”

Darcy fiddled with his watch fob. “Yes, I apologize for not visiting earlier. Quite a bit of business had accumulated during my absence.” Not incorrect, but it certainly did not reveal the whole story. In truth, Darcy had been dreading this conversation and taken a while to work up the courage.

Bingley waved away the apology. “No matter! No matter! Although you are a welcome sight. London has been rather dull while you were gone.”

Darcy could only hope that Bingley was still as enthusiastic about their friendship in a half hour. Best to get it over with. He took a deep breath. “I have a confession to make.”

“Oh?” One of Bingley’s eyebrows rose, although his smile did not dim.

Darcy rubbed both hands over his face. “I…uh…in January, Miss Bennet…Miss Jane Bennet was here, visiting London for two months…and I…kept the information from you.”

Bingley stiffened as if shock had paralyzed his muscles. “What? You kept the…?” He swallowed loudly. “How did you learn of her presence?” he asked slowly.

Darcy had known he would need to name his co-conspirators, and this had occasioned some misgivings. “Your sisters so informed me. They were concerned for your peace of mind.”

Bingley’s left hand was shaking where it grasped the arm of the chair. “And who are they to make such decisions for me? Who are you?” His voice was low and dangerous.

“I agree.” Darcy blew out a breath. “It was wrong of us. We should not have concealed it.”

Bingley leapt from his chair and commenced pacing with great energy. “It was very wrong of you!”

Darcy could do nothing but fall on his sword. Best to give all the bad news at once. “Yes. I also believe—I believe now that we were wrong in encouraging you to quit Hertfordshire.”

Bingley paused and then whirled around to face Darcy. “You admit you were wrong?”

“Utterly and completely. You have my most abject apologies.”

Bingley stared into the empty fireplace, pushing a shaky hand through his hair. “Why tell me now?”

With hands clenching the arms of his chair, Darcy could not prevent himself from gazing longingly at the exit. As bad as the previous conversation had been, the next part would be even worse. “I…encountered Miss Elizabeth Bennet at Rosings, and she…implied that your actions—the actions we encouraged you to take—had saddened her sister.” No, that was not quite the truth, and Darcy intended to reveal the whole truth. “No, had…broken her sister’s heart.”

“Oh, Good Lord!” Bingley fell into a chair, burying his face in his hands.

“I cannot apologize enough. I truly believed it to be the right course at the time.” It was a meager excuse. At the time he had believed his advice to Bingley to be objective and unbiased, but now he realized it had been colored by Darcy’s own desire to escape his attraction to Elizabeth.

Bingley’s head turned sharply in Darcy’s direction. “Why did Miss Elizabeth reveal such personal information? That seems unlike her.”

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