Where did that leave him? More aware than ever of his attraction to Miss Elizabeth, yet far from earning her approval sufficient to expect an affirmative should he propose. All was not lost, of course, as Darcy thought he could prove himself to her. For a man who had never considered the possibility ofanywoman dismissing him out of hand should he choose to offer for them, it was a bitter pill to swallow.
Such feelings did not last long, however, as he considered the benefits of a prolonged chase, making love to a woman, and pleasing a woman truly worthy of being pleased. Darcy had not considered it before, but such a season of courtship must carry its own benefits. The joy of the chase, the wonders of showing himself to the woman he wished to make his wife, to persuade her to join him in a life together as partners, two people who respected and loved each other. Darcy knew he could not think of the end. Rather, he would need to live in the moment.
As a consequence of having no ladies present, there was very little formality about their activities that day. Darcy and Bingley indulged in billiards, Hurst looking on though not participating, and they accomplished nothing else of note that day. Dinner, according to Bingley, would be served at a most unfashionabletime, after which he suspected they would stay up late, trading stories and drinking Bingley’s brandy, though neither Darcy nor Bingley were men to imbibe to excess.
“I am curious, Bingley,” said Hurst as they sat together that afternoon listening to Bingley wax poetic about Miss Bennet. “You have said little about Louisa and Caroline since coming to Hertfordshire.”
Bingley’s features darkened. “I have told you the salient points.”
“Yes, of course,” replied Hurst, amused by Bingley’s reticence. “You followed my advice and did not let them know where you were bound, which is for the best.”
Hurst’s eyes swung lazily to Darcy. “I must assume that Caroline does not know whereyouare, Darcy—or she would have hastened here at once.”
Though he was not incorrect, Hurst’s jests at his expense did not please him. Neither was he pleased with the notion that Miss Bingley might learn of his whereabouts and act to insert herself into his notice.
“What of Georgiana?” asked Bingley, all thought of Miss Bennet pushed to the side for the moment. “It will not take Caroline long to think of visiting your house, assuming that you are still in London, if she has not already. What does Georgiana know about your movements?”
Darcy grimaced, not having considered it. “Georgiana knows where I am, though nothing more. She knows enough not to tell Miss Bingley. The door-knocker is up, so Miss Bingley will not be admitted to the house.”
“If you will forgive me,” said Hurst, “Georgiana is a sweet girl who has little talent for dissembling. Caroline may attempt to catch her when she is out—if that happens, it is only a matter of time before she wheedles the truth from your sister.”
“Then invite her to Netherfield,” said Bingley. “We should be happy to have her, and I cannot imagine she would not jump at the chance to remove herself from my sister’s influence.”
Darcy paused, considering, and when he did not reply at once, Bingley misunderstood his hesitance.
“Come, Darcy, you cannot suppose the Bennets will corrupt your dear sister. I think she would appreciate meeting some agreeable young ladies her age.”
“It is not that, Bingley,” replied Darcy, though he was of two minds about exposing Georgiana to such unrestrained girls as Kitty and Lydia Bennet. “I hesitate to bring Georgiana here—because of Wickham.”
At the twin frowns of both men, Darcy recalled belatedly that they had no knowledge of the Ramsgate affair. “Do you suspect him of having designs on your sister?”
Bingley had given him an opening that he did not hesitate to take. “I would put nothing past Wickham. Georgiana still remembers him fondly from childhood, and she knows little of his sins.”
“Then you should tell her,” was Hurst’s gruff reply. “For her to retain any warmth for such a man, coupled with childhood memories, is a recipe for disaster.”
“And I think coming here would do her good, Darcy,” said Bingley. “Not only are there ladies her age, but she will learn that Wickham is not highly regarded in the neighborhood, which will help protect her from him.”
It was, Darcy supposed, as good an option as any. That Georgiana was now in full possession of the specifics of Wickham’s character was not a matter Darcy needed to discuss with his friends. Putting Georgiana in Wickham’s sphere of influence was something he would not have contemplated a few months earlier, but her recent growth and the need to remove her from Miss Bingley’s influence decided the matter.
“Very well,” said Darcy. “I shall write a letter at once and send it express.”
As Darcy moved to the nearby desk, Hurst turned back to Bingley. “What of my wife and your sister? Is there something more to their activities than I am aware?”
Bingley snorted. “If you suspect Caroline of using devious means to prevent me from returning to Hertfordshire, then you are not mistaken.”
Darcy was writing his letter and only half-listening to their conversation. If he considered the woman in question and the situation, he thought he could guess Miss Bingley’s stratagem with a great degree of accuracy.
“Well then,” said Hurst, “out with it. What did she tell you?”
“That Miss Bennet had not returned her letters. Caroline claimed it proved Miss Bennet was not so enamored with me as I am with her.”
The creak of the chair told Darcy Hurst had leaned back. “Yes, I recall hearing something about Miss Bennet exchanging letters with Caroline. Your sister told you that Miss Bennet had not written to her?”
“She did.” Bingley’s response was curt and displeased. “She also insinuated that Miss Bennet told her in confidence that she did not welcome my attention.”
Hurst gave a low whistle. “Then she did not state it outright but allowed you to believe it anyway. Your sister is conniving, Bingley, and she has only become worse the longer Darcy has put her off.”
“Well do I know it,” muttered Bingley.
