Page 40 of Mr. Darcy's Christmas Letters
“Very good, madam,” Carstairs replied and waited.
Miss Bingley looked pleadingly at her brother, but Charles merely lifted an eyebrow. Then she glanced at Mr. Darcy, but whatever she saw on his countenance did not encourage her to speak. So Miss Bingley straightened her shoulders and tossed her head back before stepping regally out of the room. Carstairs followed, closing the door behind them.
A great deal of tension left the room with Miss Bingley’s departure, and Darcy’s mind began to sort through all that had been revealed. Bingley knew all about his failed proposal now, knew that what Darcy felt was not some mild infatuation.
The paper of his letter was rough against his fingertips.
Elizabeth glanced at her sister, whose eyes were closed. “Are you well, Jane?”
“I will be well,” Mrs. Bingley replied, opening her eyes and releasing a deep breath. “I do not care for confrontation, as you know, but it could not be helped.”
“Absolutely not,” Bingley agreed, taking her hand to kiss. “I find myself even more in awe of you than when I asked you to be my wife, Jane Bingley.”
Mrs. Bingley smiled beatifically at her husband. “It is easier to be strong when I have you to support me,” she told him, and he beamed back at her.
“Bingley,” Darcy asked suddenly, “was anyone ever ill?”
“Only you, Darcy,” Charles replied without looking at his friend. “Lovesick. Terrible case. There will be no leaving Netherfield until you are out of danger.”
“Charles,” Mrs. Bingley said reprovingly, but then laughed a little.
Darcy tossed his head back and stared at the ceiling as he attempted to compose himself, caught between irritation and appreciation. He ought to have known instantly what Bingley was about, but he had been so unhappy it had quite slipped past him. Lovesick indeed.
Mrs. Bingley turned back to the room. “Now, Lizzy,” she said firmly, “You will have ten minutes alone with Mr. Darcy and then we will return. I beg you, be honest with him. A great deal of trouble might have been spared if you had simply spoken your hearts to one another after the wedding.” She was still holding Bingley’s hand as she began to walk again, and he hurried to catch up.
“Does Lizzy care for Darcy?” Bingley asked his wife as they walked away. Darcy’s eyes shot to Elizabeth, who winced; surely Bingley was unaware he was speaking so loudly. “I could see that Darcy cared forher. I kept delaying him in the hopes he would speak with her.”
This drew his attention back to Bingley. “Youdelayed me?” Darcy asked. “More than telling me the house was under quarantine?” He was shocked, though he ought not be. Bingley’s behaviour was all of a piece.
Charles looked over his shoulder to say, quite calmly, “Anders helped.”
“Andersknew?” Darcy felt quite stupid. Of course Anders knew. Darcy would not take Bingley’s word on the state of his horses, but he would trust Anders without question.
“Of course. I spoke with him when he came to Longbourn after the wedding. He knew you were not yourself, and I told him I thought I could help. Good man, Anders.”
“Unbelievable.”
“What is unbelievable is that you believed it all,” Bingley called as his wife pulled him into the hall.
Darcy could not but agree. He had been miserable and blind.
“You have ten minutes,” Mrs. Bingley said warningly. “Do not waste the time.”
The door clicked shut behind her. Darcy stared at it and then at Elizabeth. “You and your sister are more alike than I had guessed.”
Elizabeth’s lips twitched, and a strangled sort of mirth burst out of her mouth before she gave in and began to laugh. It was like music, her laughter, and he could not help but chuckle, too.
“May I see my letter?” she inquired boldly when she had done. She stretched out her hand and then withdrew it. “Itisfor me, is it not?”
“It is.” Darcy held out the note, but just before she took it, he lifted it above her head, quite out of reach. He smiled roguishly. “I would like to seemyletter as well, Miss Bennet.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she moved resolutely to her little wooden box and lifted the lid. With exaggerated care, she placed the tattered letter she had been holding inside and removed a newer one.
Shyly, she held it out to him, and he offered his in return.
There was absolute silence for a few of their precious minutes as they read. When he reached the closing of Elizabeth’s letter to him, Darcy’s heart beat a little harder.
If you cannot give your heart again to one who did not value it rightly the first time it was
