Page 75 of Her Whole Heart
“Take that off,” Darcy said, moving to do just that, but Bingley stopped him by holding up a hand, palm out.
“I will be a king. Will you help me find a lease?”
It was well past the beginning of the season. Everything decent was likely to be gone, but there were always a few families who had to depart London before the end of the season and would not mind selling theirs. “Very well, Bingley,” Darcy said. “But for now, I think you need another cup of coffee and a bed.” He rang for Mr. Yardley and asked to have a guest room readied for his friend. As Bingley often stayed at his club, his family would not worry. “Just take that thing off your head.”
Fitz removed it, placing it next to the cues where they hung on the wall. “On that note, Darcy, I think I shall take Milton off to his bed.”
“Off to my bed? The night is still young, brother!”
“Not for me,” Fitz said. “I am again called to Whitehall. We shall see whether the general waits for me to arrive this time.”
“Good evening, cousins,” Darcy said.
“You are both dullards, you know that?” Milton complained. “I was not nearly finished with Bing the King.”
“Better a dullard than a fop, brother,” Fitz said. “Come on, now.”
Bingley wished them good night, distracted and still not entirely clear-headed.
“Darcy,” he said sombrely, when they were at last alone, “do you think I have any chance at all?”
“I cannot say. Has Miss Bennet given you any hope?”
“Sshe has not turned me away irrevocably, but . . .”
Darcy frowned as he thought about what Miss Elizabeth needed from a suitor and whether it was not something her sister would desire also. “Bingley, I will preface this advice with a caveat: After what has transpired this season, you know I am not the best man to ask for advice about your courtship. But it seems to me that the most important thing is to show the woman you love that she can trust you. Respect and admiration—even love—may follow, but first they must have fertile soil in which to grow. If Miss Bennet is the woman you love, you must show her she can trust you to always put her first.”
Bingley hiccoughed so loudly that Mr. Yardley popped his head into the room. “Did you call, Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy’s smile was strained. “No, Mr. Yardley.”
“I am going to be the king, Misster Yardley!” Bingley announced.
The butler did not bat an eye. “God save you then, sir.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Welcome, Mr. Darcy,” Lady Carlisle said as they all stood. “The modiste has come this morning, but I shall have Elizabeth attended last.” She opened the doors to the room and when Jane and Amelia had exited, she gave Mr. Darcy a serious look. “The door will remain open, and Laramie will be just outside.”
“Thank you, Lady Carlisle,” Elizabeth called as they all removed from the room. A maid entered with a workbasket and moved directly to a chair nearest the window.
“New gowns?” Mr. Darcy asked as she invited him to sit down.
“Yes, for Lady Carlisle had decided our gowns for Lady Morgan’s ball must be a triumph. Why we could not select one of the dozens of beautiful gowns we have already procured is beyond me, but one does not question Lady Carlisle in such matters.”
“No,” Mr. Darcy concurred. “It would be a waste of time and energy.”
Elizabeth placed her hands in her lap. “Perhaps we will see you there.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “Perhaps. I have yet to receive an invitation, but Lady Morgan does typically include me.”
“You are an eligible bachelor. I cannot imagine you will not be invited,” Elizabeth said with a smile.
They sat for a moment in awkward silence.
“The weather is still rather cold,” Mr. Darcy said at last.
“It is, but it is nearly the end of March. I hope that better days are coming,” Elizabeth replied.
