Chapter 44

Darcy could not decide whether he was glad to be in town again. On the whole, he thought not. It had the benefit of allowing him to see friends and be closer to his family, who were all in London, and it allowed Georgiana greater access to masters, which was reassuring after her disinterest over the past two years. On the less beneficial side, he might see Elizabeth. He longed to—he would always want to be near her—but it was also painful because he could not be with her. At present, she remained in Hertfordshire, but from what he had learnt from Rebecca and the one letter he had received from Bingley since their parting in Derbyshire, she would likely spend some weeks in town that autumn. It was his fate to love her for as long as he lived. Surely, if it were possible for his sentiments to fade, they would have during the months—years—of knowing he could not have her as his wife. But he expected her to move on with her life. He wanted her to be happy, and he had no reason to suppose Robert Grey had lost interest in her; thus, if he saw Elizabeth in town, he must also be prepared to see Mr Grey chasing after her.

Sitting alone in his study, several important letters of business neatly piled on his desk, Darcy pressed his eyes closed and attempted to force the morose thoughts aside.

I ought to remind myself of what adds pleasure to my life—Georgiana, most of all. There was no denying that her health was improving. The relief he, Fitzwilliam, and others in their family felt was immeasurable. She was by no means fully recovered, but if she continued to show so much progress over the next few months, he believed she might be one day. At the very least, she would gain greater control of her emotions, and all of them—herself included—would not need to be so worried for her.

He selected the letter from his steward to review and was writing a response when the butler announced a caller: Bingley. Darcy did his best to hide his surprise; he had not known Bingley was in town or that he would call. He did not know whether Bingley still considered them friends—if his understandable anger when they last spoke at Pemberley had lessened with time. When they were in Buxton, Bingley had apologised, which was completely unnecessary. It had given Darcy hope that he had not lost their connexion. He would know for certain in a few minutes, which made him nervous. He told the butler he would join Bingley in the drawing room and asked for a tray of refreshments to be sent there.

The gentlemen greeted each other, and Bingley said, “I had to come to town for a couple of days to see to some minor business. I shall not weary you with the details. I also wanted to see my sisters in person and remind them to behave properly when Jane, Lizzy, and I return later this month.”

“They are not with you.” Was it disappointment or relief Darcy felt? His words were not a question, but Bingley treated them as such and shook his head.

“We shall be leaving Meryton soon enough, and once we do, who knows when we shall visit? Jane is going to have a child in the late winter or early spring.”

“Bingley, that is wonderful news,” Darcy exclaimed. “I congratulate you both.”

Bingley gave an awkward chuckle and blushed. “We have not told that many people. My sisters do not yet know. I only arrived yesterday, and thus far, they have not wanted to listen to anything I have to say. Rather, they wished to share their many, many complaints, chiefly that I would dare to purchase an estate without consulting them, let alone decide on renovations. It will not be their home, so I do not know why they believe they should have a say in it.” He waved a hand as though dismissing the topic. “That does not matter. I knew you were in town and thought I would come to see you.” He paused. “Miss Darcy’s letter. Lizzy told us about it. Not what she wrote, just that you were in town and your sister was doing well. Is she?”

“I am happy to say that Georgiana is doing very well.” Darcy knew Georgiana had written to Elizabeth. She had asked his opinion on the wisdom of doing so, especially whether Elizabeth would be affronted, and he had assured her that she would not be. Like Bingley, he did not know what his sister had written. She had only told him that she wanted to thank Elizabeth for her kindness.

Bingley let out a gush of air. “That is the best news I have heard in a very long time. Apart from becoming a father, that is.” He laughed. “And you, Darcy, are you well? I spoke harshly to you before leaving Pemberley, and I regret it, but at the time—well, no need to go over all that again. I admit that a part of me is still vexed, but with Jane’s assistance—I truly have the most excellent wife—and after that last morning, I understand that you were in a very difficult situation. What I want most of all is for my wife and Lizzy to be happy. You too. That is why I am here.”

“You were right to be angry, and I am sorry I did not confide in you about Georgiana or Elizabeth.”

He was stopped from saying more when the refreshments arrived, and as Bingley partook of a glass of lemonade and a piece of chicken pie, they chatted about nothing in particular.

“I ought not to stay much longer. We have not yet decided exactly what day we shall leave Netherfield, but I shall let you know. Jane is looking forward to seeing some of the ladies she met earlier this year. If you and Miss Darcy do not object, I am sure she would like to call on her,” Bingley said.

Darcy noticed that Bingley did not mention Elizabeth calling on Georgiana. He had not expected it; after all, his sister had made it plain she did not appreciate Elizabeth’s company, and apparently, nothing in her letter suggested she had changed her mind.

“I shall ask her, but I hope she agrees. I would be glad to see Mrs Bingley and her become friends. Please give her my thanks for her consideration, regardless of what Georgiana decides.”

Bingley made a noise of agreement, and there was a brief silence before he continued. “Lizzy is looking forward to returning to town too. She will live with Jane and me. But you already know that.” He scratched the back of his neck and averted his eyes.

“Say what you will.”

With a single curt nod, Bingley said, “Lizzy is really why I came this morning, though I did want to see you. You must remember me speaking of us going to see my friend Grey and—I am sorry if this pains you, Darcy—hinting about him and my sister-in-law.”

An anvil settled in his stomach. He could not respond.

“Soon after everything that happened in Derbyshire, Lizzy asked me to tell Grey that she did not anticipate marrying for the next year, if not longer. She might be reconsidering, especially after Miss Darcy’s letter. It is something she said to Jane. Grey has not given up hope. He has become attached to her—they have always had a great deal to say to each other, lots of interests in common and what have you—and he says she is exactly the sort of woman he wants as his wife. He would be good to her. Jane believes that once they become reacquainted, and if Grey treats her with patience and holds off proposing for even a few months, Lizzy will accept him.”

Darcy felt as cold as if he had just taken a long walk through the Derbyshire winter weather. “I see.”

“Do you?” Bingley asked.

There was a certain emphasis in his voice that made Darcy pay attention. He opened his mouth to ask what his friend meant, but just at that moment, a knock interrupted their solitude. It was Georgiana, who opened the door enough to peek around it.

“May I come in, or do I disturb you?” she said.

Bingley was already on his feet and approaching her. “Miss Darcy, how good it is to see you! Please do join us.”

Darcy stood and watched as they exchanged pleasantries. Georgiana coming downstairs to greet Bingley was a sign of how much progress she had made, and it gladdened his heart, although it still remained heavy. In a few minutes, the mantel clock chimed the hour.

“Is that really the time?” Bingley exclaimed and pulled out his fob watch to consult it. “I am afraid I must go. I have an appointment at the bank. I shall see you both before long.”

Darcy thanked him for coming, Georgiana offered him a shy smile, and Bingley departed.

“Brother?”

Darcy shook himself out of his stupor and looked into his sister’s face. She was beside him, which she had not been when Bingley left. From the tone of her voice, she had not only moved across the room, she had also previously spoken to him.

“I am sorry, dearest. What did you say?”

Her brow furrowed, and she sat on the sofa, watching him carefully as he took a place next to her.

“I said I did not know Mr Bingley was in town. Do you mind that I intruded?”

“Not at all.” He lifted her hand to his lips for a kiss. “I also did not know he was here. He came alone, but all three of them will return within the next fortnight, I imagine. He mentioned that Mrs Bingley would like to call on you, if you will allow it.”

“Oh.” She sat a little straighter, and her eyes met his. “That is very kind of her. I-I would like it. Did…did he mention Miss Bennet?”

He certainly did, Darcy thought, but it was not in the way he suspected Georgiana meant.

“I understand she might not like to see me,” Georgiana said when he failed to speak.

“I do not think it is that. She would consider your feelings, not her own wishes.” He squeezed her hand.

Georgiana nodded, and they were silent for a long moment. Darcy’s thoughts remained heavy, and it was difficult to form words. It was odd that his sister was the more willing or able of them to talk when it had been the other way round for so long.

“Did Mr Bingley have news of her that upset you?”

He ran both hands over his face and through his hair. “In a manner of speaking, though it is no more than I expected. You recall he hinted about a growing attachment between her and Mr Grey?”

Georgiana’s features seemed to crumple, as though she had been told something distressing. She nodded and kept her eyes on his, silently asking him to continue.

“Nothing has been settled between them, and it might not be for several months, but Bingley clearly feels it is inevitable.”

“I do not understand. As you said, he did speak of it at Pemberley. Why would he tell you again? Did he want to warn you away from her?” She sounded incredulous, which he did not understand, unless it was that she could not imagine Bingley behaving in such a way.

He thought for a moment. “Actually, I am not sure what he really wanted to say. He talked of her accepting him, and I said I understood. He asked if I did, and I was just about to enquire what he meant when you knocked at the door.”

Georgiana requested that he go over it all once again; she listened intently as he attempted to recall exactly what Bingley had said, after which she exclaimed, “Oh, Brother, do you not see? He was hinting that she is not in love with Mr Grey and that if you are at all interested in pursuing her, you had best get to it.”

A sudden tightness in his chest made him swallow and look away. He felt Georgiana’s soft touch on his arm.

“I would not object if you did,” she said.

His gaze flew to meet hers. “Georgiana?—”

“I would not,” she repeated. “I-I-I know you did not propose to her because of me, and I appreciate it, but I am doing much better now. I see that my fears were unfounded. Ridiculous really.” She shook her head when he opened his mouth to speak. “They were. You told me so, but I did not want to hear it. I know Miss Bennet would never expect me to see Mr Wickham or even Mrs Wickham. I like Miss Bennet. I did when we first met, and nothing has happened to change that. If anything, I think more highly of her now than I did then. How could I not, after how kind she was to me in Buxton—even before, when she was at Pemberley? There is no reason for you not to marry her, not for my sake, not any longer.”

Darcy sighed. “I am afraid it is too late. I was not entirely honest with her last autumn. She was understandably angry and hurt, and when I at last did tell her everything, it made little difference.”

“You believe she cannot forgive you, that she would not accept you, even if she was assured I would be pleased with your marriage?”

He shrugged. He had given up dreaming of a reconciliation with Elizabeth the day he last saw her. The looks she had given him at the inn in Buxton had clearly communicated two things to him: she understood the struggles he had faced with Georgiana and pitied him, and, as far as she was concerned, their connexion was irrevocably at an end.

“Do you still love her?”

He made a noise that suggested the question was ridiculous and unnecessary.

“Then should you not go to her before it is too late and find out whether she still loves you and whether she can forgive you?”

Once again, Darcy regarded her. Slowly, she smiled and nodded, which he took as her silent assurance that she was being truthful and not acting simply to please him. His heart raced. He gathered her into his arms and began to make plans for a trip to Meryton.