by Leenie Brown
Darcy’s head pulled back, and he blinked.
Bingley smiled. The comment had done its work. It had startled his friend and would hopefully get him to begin to see duty for what it was ─ a weight that could drag a person down into wretchedness. Perhaps Darcy would consider such a fate for himself, but he would never do so for his sister.
“You must consider her happiness,” Bingley continued, leaning against the bookshelf that was near the window. “I know people often think of me as obtuse — do not deny it,” he challenged as Darcy opened his mouth to speak. “To be fair, I often am. I am not so quick to catch on to things as some, but I am not oblivious to the world around me. I do spend time in observation and contemplation.” He smirked. “Not so much as you, my friend, but I do practice the skills occasionally.”
Darcy chuckled.
“You know I care for Georgiana, though not as my sister would wish for me to care for her,” Bingley said.
Again, Darcy chuckled, and Bingley joined him. They knew that Caroline wished for not just one connection to the Darcy family through marrying Darcy herself. She also wanted her brother to marry Darcy’s sister. To her, there was no better way to ensure they had risen above their roots in trade than to secure ties to the aristocracy and ancient lands and money.
“I care for her as a brother might care for her. I would not wish to see her harmed in any fashion.” Bingley came back to where Darcy still sat swirling and occasionally sipping his drink. “She still feels the weight of disappointing you, Darcy. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at you when you are unaware.” Darcy had shared with him about Georgiana’s ordeal with Wickham at Ramsgate.
“But she has not disappointed me. I have failed her.” Darcy’s brows furrowed as he shook his head.
“Yet, she perceives she has disappointed you, and it still plays upon her spirit. Imagine how her spirit would suffer if she were to learn you had given up happiness for her. You know as well as I that she would never be happy no matter the match you might make for her.” He shrugged. “And what match will you make for her? Will it be one of duty and obligation, or do you wish for her to find felicity and love? And with time, might you not grow to resent the fact that you gave up the possibility of your own felicity for your sister?”
Darcy gaped at his friend. “I had not thought of it in those terms. But, I fear, it does not matter. Miss Elizabeth would not have me anyway.
“Why would she not have you? I see no reason for her to reject you.” Bingley knew he was close to securing a solution. He had learned from his father that there were always a few nagging details which threatened to sink any negotiation. Hopefully, this obstacle would be easily overcome, although, with Darcy, even a small barrier could become nearly insurmountable when he was in a dour state of mind, such as he was this evening.
“She believes George Wickham.” Darcy drained the remaining liquid from his glass and placed it firmly on the table next to him. “Which means he has once again stolen from me that which is dear.”
“He has not,” Bingley refuted. “He did not succeed with Georgiana, and he will not succeed with Miss Elizabeth either.”
Darcy’s jaw clenched as he shook his head. “He has already influenced her against me.”
“How do you know?” With any luck, there would be a great leap that had been made by his friend, who could be overly pessimistic about things at times and see one small error as the ruin of a project.
“She questioned me about Wickham at your ball.”
Bingley leaned back in his chair and bit his cheeks to keep from smiling with satisfaction. He had heard about Miss Elizabeth’s questioning as Darcy had vented his frustration on an innocent set of billiard balls. It might be challenging to overcome the obstacles of George Wickham and Miss Elizabeth’s poor opinion of Darcy, but from Bingley’s position, when considering the whole scheme of Miss Elizabeth and George Wickham, there was at least one way in which he knew he could very likely prod Darcy into action.
“Ah,” Bingley began, “so that is the real reason why you were in such a rush to return to London. You were unwilling to fight for Miss Elizabeth. Do you really think of yourself so meanly when compared to him? I must say it is rather startling that you do.”
Darcy bristled as Bingley knew he would. Not even the staid Mr. Darcy could keep from reacting with displeasure when his masculine sensibilities were challenged. In fact, Bingley knew that Darcy’s sense of honour was likely more honed and, therefore, more easily provoked than most gentlemen in the higher echelons of society.
“I do not trust him to behave in a way which will not bring harm to all those I care about.” Darcy’s voice was satisfyingly close to a growl. “It is safer for her if I do not fight him. He could not only harm her but her family as well.”
Bingley shook his head. He knew that his friend would not allow any about whom he cared to be placed in harm’s way and would sacrifice himself to see them safe, but his logic, in this case, was sadly lacking. “Have you listened to yourself?”
Darcy’s brows furrowed in question.
“Tell me. Exactly how is Miss Elizabeth safer with him than with you?”
Darcy huffed in disbelief, and Bingley waited patiently for him to explain.
“He will leave her alone as long as he does not think I am interested in her,” Darcy explained. “Why do you suppose he singled her out to befriend after our meeting on the street in Meryton? She was acquainted with me, and my shock upon seeing him may have left me unable to hide my jealousy. Wickham knows me well. He would not miss such a thing. However, she has no money to tempt him into anything more than a light flirtation, and he would never risk being tied to a woman that would not provide amply for his expenses.”
Bingley shrugged. “True, but I still do not see how she is safer. What if she does lose her heart to him? While he may not marry a penniless woman, he is not above taking the little she has to offer.” His brows rose as he gave his friend a pointed look.
Darcy groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “Surely, she would not succumb to his charms. She is far too intelligent.”
“And Georgiana is not?”
Darcy was on his feet and pacing. “What do I do? Ride back to Longbourn and tell her stories of his past?” He sighed and shook his head at such a foolish idea. “She does not like me. I am sure I cannot convince her of his failings. I will only look like a vengeful fool.”
“So, do not convince her,” Bingley replied. “She has a sister in town, and there is always the possibility of a well-worded letter placed in the hands of a man she respects such as her father or Sir William. I am sure Wickham has amassed a fair number of debts within the past months. Let her see his character for what it is. She is intelligent. She will see the error in her judgment.”
Darcy stopped mid-stride and turned to look at his friend. Relief suffused his features. “Bingley, I do not give you enough credit for your depth of understanding. You are positively wise tonight. Where do you suggest we start? With Miss Bennet?”
Bingley chuckled softly at his friend’s exuberance — a word not often associated with the man standing before him. “As much as I would love to start with a visit to Miss Bennet, I rather think a visit to your cousin would be better.”
Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, was well-known and respected by many. He also happened to despise Wickham. Both were items that could help their cause.
“Perhaps Richard could have some influence with Wickham’s commanding officer? Colonel Forster may wish to know of Wickham’s tendencies to gamble and dally with the ladies — not all turn a blind eye to such behaviors, you know. You do not even have to mention Miss Elizabeth to Richard. You just have to let him know where Wickham is. I doubt your cousin needs any further incentive to make the man’s life as miserable as possible.”
Darcy’s lips curled in a knowing smile. “Richard would need very little incentive to relieve Wickham of his life. If you will allow me, I will send a note
to him now, letting him know I need to speak with him.”
Bingley motioned to his desk. “Whatever I have is at your disposal.”
Chapter 3
“Darcy,” Bingley said as Darcy finished his missive to Colonel Fitzwilliam, “perhaps you could help me with a little problem?”
Darcy glanced up from the paper he was folding and preparing to seal. “Anything.”
“My sister…”
“Except that,” Darcy interrupted with a chuckle.
Bingley shook his head. “I would not foist her on you. If that were my intention, I would have done it long ago instead of suffering through these years with her airs.”
Darcy inclined his head in acceptance. He was thankful his friend had the good sense not to throw his sister in Darcy’s path. Caroline Bingley was not the sort of lady that he had ever considered. She was too… His brows furrowed, what was she exactly? Devious, practiced, lacking in warmth? Any of those would do, he supposed. Put simply; she did not possess a nature that appealed to him.
“I do not know what to do about her hiding Miss Bennet’s call from me,” Bingley continued. “You know I am not the best at knowing how to deal with Caroline.” He sighed. “I wish she would just marry and be someone else’s problem.”
Darcy lifted a brow. “You care for her,” he reminded him.
Bingley shrugged. “Not so much at this moment as I did before I knew she was trying to keep Miss Bennet away from me. I would rather fob her off onto the first chap to seem welcoming than have to keep her and act appropriately.”
“You would not fob her off on the first chap,” Darcy contradicted with a smile. His friend really did care for both of his sisters, no matter how much they annoyed him. “You would see her well-settled, at least.”
Bingley blew out a resigned breath. “Then what do I do?”
“Nothing,” Darcy replied. “Call on Miss Bennet.” He rose and returned to the group of chairs where he and Bingley had been sitting before and where Bingley was now. “Tell your sister nothing about it. Continue as if nothing has changed.”
Bingley’s eyes grew wide. “Is that not rather a lot of disguise?”
Darcy pondered the question for a moment and then shrugged. “Tell her if you must or if she asks, but it will not aid your cause.”
“But you hate –”
“Normally, yes,” Darcy interrupted, “however, it seems necessary at the moment.”
Bingley’s brows furrowed as he nodded his agreement.
“I will even go with you to call on Miss Bennet,” Darcy offered.
“You would do that?” Bingley’s eyes were wide in surprise. “Her relations are in Cheapside.”
Darcy shook his head. “No, they are near Cheapside,” he corrected. “On Gracechurch Street, if I am not mistaken.”
“That is well-removed from Grosvenor Square,” Bingley cautioned.
“I know where it is,” Darcy retorted, “and I am not so priggish as you seem to think.”
Bingley shrugged and gave his friend a look that said he was not entirely convinced that travelling to that portion of London would not be a trial. “If you are certain, I would be happy for the company.”
“Then, it is settled. We will call on Miss Bennet together.”
Bingley smiled as understanding dawned on him. “You wish for her to write to her sister about your visit.”
“Of course.” Having Jane write to Elizabeth about the fact that he had brought Bingley to Jane and had visited her relations in Gracechurch Street would have to earn him some small amount of merit, would it not?
“Very well,” said Bingley, leaning forward with eagerness, “do you know exactly where her relations live?”
Darcy shook his head. “I only know it is on Gracechurch Street.”
Bingley scowled for a moment, his brows furrowed in thought. He took the letter Darcy was tapping on the arm of his chair and went to the door.
“Jenkins,” he called down the hall and then waited for his butler to join him. “Has my sister received any letters from Gracechurch Street?”
Jenkins was a most fastidious butler, and if a piece of correspondence had entered the house, he would know when it arrived, to whom it was addressed, and from whence it had come.
“Yes, sir, she has.”
“Do you remember the number in the direction?”
“Of course, sir. It was eighteen.”
“Eighteen Gracechurch Street?”
“Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?”
“Would you see that this is delivered?” Bingley handed Darcy’s message to him.
“Tonight, sir?”
“Yes, as soon as can be managed.”
Bingley closed the door behind Jenkins and rejoined Darcy.
“So, tomorrow, you will accompany me on a social call?” He could not help the smirk that he wore.
“Happily,” Darcy answered.
Bingley chortled. “Happily? I repeat, this is a social call, and you will be required to be affable.”
Darcy shook his head and smiled. “I know that such a thing is not my strongest suit, but I have a vested interest in your success. For, it seems, I am most anxious to be allowed the chance to disappoint my family’s expectations.”
As Darcy was speaking, the door of the study was flung open and Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam entered, followed by a flustered Jenkins.
“I am sorry, sir,” the butler apologized. “I tried to get him to wait.”
Bingley chuckled. “We are all sorry at one time or another for Richard, Jenkins. Think nothing of it.” Bingley clapped Richard on the shoulder. “I did not think you would receive Darcy’s message so soon.”
“Message?” Richard questioned. ” I did not receive a message. I stopped by Darcy’s, and his butler told me that he was here, so I came. What message was I to receive? Does it have anything to do with my cousin disappointing his family?” Richard smiled wickedly at Darcy.
“This is why one waits to be announced,” grumbled Darcy. “There are things that you are not supposed to hear.”
At that moment, Jenkins re-entered the room. “A message for you, sir.” He bowed, handed an envelope to Richard, and was gone.
Richard broke the seal and scanned the contents of Darcy’s message, looking up from it in surprise. “You wish to discuss an old acquaintance?”
“Yes,” Bingley took out a third glass and filled it with an ample amount of brandy. “It seems that an old acquaintance of yours has surfaced in Meryton, which is near my estate in Hertfordshire.” He handed the glass to Richard. “You may wish to drink this first.”
Richard eyed Bingley and Darcy suspiciously. “And who might that be?”
“Wickham,” said Darcy.
Richard muttered and took a healthy gulp of his drink.
“Bingley’s neighbour has five daughters, and he is concerned for their safety.” Darcy felt his ears warm at the half-truth. Hiding Bingley’s call on Miss Bennet call from Caroline gave him no qualms but hiding anything from Richard always did, and while it was accurate that Bingley wished to see the Bennets safe, he was not the only one who wished it.
“Five daughters?” Richard whistled softly. “And would one of these be your new angel?” he asked Bingley. “You do still find an angel in every town, do you not?”
“If things go well,” Darcy answered before Bingley could, “I think this may be Bingley’s last angel.”
Richard let out another slow whistle. “She must be quite the lady.”
Bingley grinned, utterly undaunted by Richard’s teasing tone. “She is,” he said, “and she has four sisters that need protection from Wickham.”
Richard tipped his head and looked from Bingley to Darcy and back. “Your angel has been seen in company with you and Darcy?”
Bingley nodded. “As have certain of her sisters.” Bingley winked slyly at Richard.
Darcy groaned inwardly as he shook his head. Of course, Bingley would not keep that
information to himself.
Richard’s brows rose as an impish grin spread across his face. “Has my cousin singled out any sister in particular?”
“Yes, your cousin has,” Darcy answered. There seemed no need to try to deny it. Richard would know the truth and to tell him directly was better than to be taunted by both his cousin and Bingley. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Miss Bennet’s next youngest sister,” Bingley added.
Richard rubbed his knuckles against his jaw. “And Wickham knows this?”
Darcy nodded. “I believe so. Therefore, we have decided that Bingley will inform Miss Bennet that Wickham is not to be trusted with the hope that she will then impart this information to her sisters; although, I am not sure the information will be immediately accepted by all.” He shifted in his seat. “Bingley thought that perhaps you could inform Colonel Forster of Wickham’s penchant for cards and women. He has been in the area long enough to have accrued a fair amount of debt, both with the merchants of the area and other members of the regiment. Your word would go a long way in helping me refute the stories that I am sure he has been spreading about me.”
Richard blew out a breath. “Miss Elizabeth believes Wickham?”
Darcy nodded slowly. He wished it was not true, but it was.
“Which means she is set against you, and you are besotted with her enough to consider going against familial duty.” Richard surmised.
“I would not say besotted,” retorted Darcy.
“I would,” Bingley muttered.
Richard threw back his head and laughed. “It is about time.”
“Why were you looking for me tonight?” Darcy asked before Richard could continue down a road that Darcy was certain he did not wish to have traversed.
Richard lifted his glass. “A drink, a game of billiards, some conversation, and a comfortable bed.”
Darcy’s lips twitched. “There are beds at Matlock House that are quite comfortable. In fact, there is one there reserved for you.”
