Mr. Darcy with Him (Hugh Thomson)

Charles Bingley straightened his sleeves and brushed a hand down the front of his coat as he removed as many of the signs of travel from his clothing as he could. He drew a deep breath and studied the flat façade of the stately home with its evenly spaced windows. Within these walls lay his happy future. Or so he hoped.

Movement at the sitting room window, as one of the pretty Bennet ladies peeked out and then ducked out of sight, caught his eye. From the quick glimpse he got of her – brown curls, green ribbons, no spectacles or sharp angles – he guessed it was Kitty.

He had been seen. There was no turning back now. He was here, at the border of the plain on which he would discover his destiny. Delight at being returned to Miss Bennet mingled with a flutter of nerves about being accepted by her as more than just any old caller.

Flutters or no, he must move forward into the fray, and so, he stepped up to the door. However, he did pause for a moment before ringing the bell to gather his confidence. No matter what his friend had said, Miss Bennet favoured him. He was not seeing things only as he wished them to be.

That friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy, would not be best pleased to read the missive that had surely reached Darcy House by now. There were very few times when Bingley had not taken Darcy’s advice. Each of those times had been when Bingley had known to the core of his being that he was correct and his friend was wrong. This was one of those times. Darcy’s opinion was clouded, but Bingley would see to the removal of those clouds.

Darcy was not the only one who would be displeased with Bingley’s return to Hertfordshire. His younger sister, Caroline, would be appalled to hear of his whereabouts when she finally emerged from her bedchamber and was denied the use of the carriage because it was not in town.

He almost wished he could be at home to witness Caroline’s displeasure or at Darcy House to see the look of horror which would surely wash over his friend’s face when he read the contents of the letter Bingley had sent. However, he was – obviously – not at home. Instead, he was on a mission to see both himself and his dearest friend in all the world, happily situated with wives whom they adored.

He rang the bell as he chuckled to himself at how absolutely outraged Caroline would be that she had not prevented the loss of Darcy as she had intended by returning to town early. Maybe he would invite her to his ball, and maybe, he might even allow her to remain at Netherfield for the full twelve days of Christmas. That is, he might allow her if he were to begin feeling charitable towards her, though he doubted he would be feeling so any time soon. She could stay with Hurst and Louisa. It was best if she began her season as she should, which was by knowing that she needed to look for a husband who was not the master of Pemberley in Derbyshire.

His younger sister had demanded her way about many things over the years, and Bingley had capitulated to many of her demands. However, separating him from Miss Bennet and insisting that he forget her was a step too far for Bingley to abide – even from Caroline.

The door opened, and Bingley stepped inside Longbourn.

“Mr. Bingley to see Mr. Bennet.”  He placed his hat on the entryway table and handed his greatcoat to a footman.

“If you will follow me, sir.”

Bingley followed Mr. Hill, Longbourn’s butler, down the short hall which led to his master’s study and waited in the corridor while permission was gained for him to enter.

“Mr. Bingley, please do come in and have a seat.” Mr. Bennet stood behind his desk and motioned to the chairs in front of him. “I must confess my surprise at being called on by you. I had not thought we would see you again.”

Bingley smiled as he arranged himself in what had to be the most uncomfortable chair in which he had ever sat. The back was too straight and the seat was far too firm. “I imagine my sisters’ and friend’s departure made it appear as if I would not return.”

“That and the letter my daughter received.”

Bingley’s head tipped. “What letter?”

“From Miss Bingley. She intimated to Jane that you were to return to Netherfield no more this winter.”

The brazenness of his sister’s treachery deepened Bingley’s resolve to stay separated from her. There would be no invitation to her or the Hursts. He would celebrate his Christmas with his new acquaintances in his new neighbourhood, and with Darcy and his sister, if the man would deign to attend him at Netherfield as requested.

“If Caroline had her way,” he said to Mr. Bennet, “I would not have returned. I am afraid she favours town to the country.”

Mr. Bennet’s eyes searched him. “And does your friend also prefer London’s society to that in Hertfordshire?”

Bingley laughed, despite his feeling of unease at Mr. Bennet’s continued scrutiny. “My friend prefers a small group of friends and books to the frivolities of the ton or the charm of a country soiree.” He paused. “I dare say that might be something the two of you have in common.”

Mr. Bennet chuckled. “Indeed. I do prefer my solitude to a soiree, but I doubt very much that you came here to talk to me about my penchant for books over people. Would I be wrong to assume your visit is about one of my daughters – Jane, perhaps?”

The welcoming tone in which the question was asked dissolved the small bit of trepidation Bingley still held about the purposes of his call today. Feeling heartened, Bingley relaxed into his seat, rested his elbows on the arm of the chair, and steepled his fingers in front of his chest. “You would not be wrong, but you would also not be correct.”

Mr. Bennet’s head tipped, and a single eyebrow rose in intrigue. “A riddle in reply? I begin to see why your friend enjoys your company. You are not just an eager pup. It seems a shrewd mind lies behind your amiable façade.”

Ah, yes. How many saw his happy manners and assumed that pleasantness and merriment were the only things of which he was capable? Fortunately, Darcy had been one of the few who had taken the care to look beyond Bingley’s smile. Perhaps that was because Darcy, himself, was often assumed to be only serious and void of deep emotions because of his reserved nature.

“Most wonder at our friendship,” Bingley admitted. “However, that is because most only see us in society, which, by the by, is the only place where my friend does not outshine me.”

“You do seem an odd pair.”

“What appears to be true is not always what is; or perhaps, it is true, and I prefer to surround myself with the unusual because life is more interesting that way. However, I suppose the real question is, could it be both?”

Mr. Bennet placed his spectacles on top of his book. “While I am curious to know the answer to that, I have a question of my own. Would you be seeking to add me to your collection of eccentrics by joining your family to mine?”

In spite of Bingley’s certainty of being accepted, his hands suddenly felt sweaty, and he found it necessary to draw a deep breath before answering. “I would, sir, if that is acceptable to all parties.”

“I cannot see how it would be unacceptable. You seem a decent sort of fellow, and I suspect you have the funds to provide for a family.” Here, Mr. Bennet paused and waited for confirmation that his supposition was correct.

“I do.”

“And while you have not said so, I assume you care for Jane?”

Bingley nodded. “Very much, sir.”

“To the point of love?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, I must accept you, for if my wife were to hear that I refused your suit on my daughter’s behalf when you have both a fortune and a deep admiration for her, not even this study would give me peace.” Mr. Bennet laughed, and Bingley joined him.

“The final decision will, of course, be left to Jane,” Mr. Bennet continued.

“Of course.”

“Now, according to your earlier riddle, Jane is not your only reason for calling, is she?”

Bingley shook his head. “You would be correct. Permission to marry Miss Bennet is not the sole purpose of this interview, though her happiness and my own are the foundations for it.”

Mr. Bennet chuckled. “Do you always speak in riddles, young man?”

While Bingley did not always speak in riddles, he had found that doing so often helped him keep Darcy’s attention because it presented a problem to solve.

“What other business might you have with me, aside from permission to present your offer of marriage to Jane, which might secure your happiness?” Mr. Bennet’s brow furrowed. “Is there another suitor whom I should dissuade in his suit?”

“As far as I know, Miss Bennet does not have any other suitors, but be that as it may, there is another gentleman who needs removal.”

“Another gentleman?”

Bingley nodded.

“But he is not a suitor?” Mr. Bennet was beginning to look slightly frustrated, which meant it was time for Bingley to present his second purpose plainly.

“I am speaking of Mr. Wickham.”

Mr. Bennet’s already furrowed brow knit further. “What of Mr. Wickham? He seems a pleasant sort of fellow, though he is not so well-liked by your friend.”

“For good reason, sir. This is another time when what appears to be and what is are not the same. As you say, Mr. Wickham appears to be a pleasant and proper gentleman when, in fact, he is given to gambling and debauchery. If he is living as he usually does, I would suspect that several in Meryton hold his vowels and more than one maid is a maiden no longer.” He let his words settle into the silence of the room.

Horror washed over Mr. Bennet’s features. “Truly?” he finally asked.

“I assure you, sir, that I speak with authority and no exaggeration. His tales of my friend are cunningly crafted with enough truth to make his defamatory comments believable.”

“A practiced deceiver?”

Bingley nodded and leaned forward in his chair. “I do not know what Wickham has told you about his relationship with Darcy, but please, allow me to share the high points of their history.”

Mr. Bennet motioned with his hand for Bingley to continue.

“Wickham grew up at Pemberley. His father was the estate’s steward. When Mr. Darcy died, he left Wickham an inheritance. It was a valuable living which would be his upon his taking orders and the living falling open. Wickham, however, did not think the church would suit him and refused the living, opting instead to take a monetary settlement in its place. It was not a small settlement, but it was quickly squandered. Wickham then returned to take up the living, which had recently fallen open. Darcy refused him.”

“I should think he would refuse!” Mr. Bennet cried. “Is Mr. Wickham such a scoundrel then?”

“Much worse, I fear, and this part you must never share. As you know, Darcy has a sister.”

Mr. Bennet closed his eyes and shook his head against the pain that etched his features.

“Darcy’s sister is the same age as Miss Lydia.”

Again, Mr. Bennet shook his head with his eyes still closed.

“Wickham attempted to seduce her for her dowry.”

Mr. Bennet expelled a great breath. “Do you believe my daughters are in danger from this man?” he asked after opening his eyes.

“I do.”

“But they have very little.”

“He does not seek their money.”

Mr. Bennet’s eyes grew wide.

Bingley nodded. “It is not just your daughters’ virtues which are at stake here. The happiness of my friend and Miss Elizabeth is also in danger.”

“Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth?”

Bingley allowed Mr. Bennet to ponder the match.

“They would do well together,” Mr. Bennet admitted after some contemplation. “However, your friend finds my daughter merely tolerable, and she is so set against…” His voice trailed off, and a smile suffused his face. “She is enamoured with him! How did I not see it before?”

“I cannot speak to Miss Elizabeth’s feelings about my friend, but I can assure you that he finds her a great deal more than tolerable.” He gave Mr. Bennet a wry smile. “His comments at the assembly were part of a game we play. Or, I should say, a game I play, and Darcy endures. I encourage him to interact with people, and he attempts to put me off by telling me the exact opposite of what he is truly thinking.”

Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow and gave a little chuckle.

“Though he is reluctant to admit it, Darcy has never been so enamoured. In fact, he would like to introduce his sister to Miss Elizabeth. However, Miss Darcy will not be allowed to travel to Netherfield while Wickham is in Hertfordshire.”

It was Darcy’s fear that Wickham might do some harm to the Bennets because of his or Bingley’s connection to them which had been his impetus for his leaving Netherfield and discouraging the match between Bingley and Miss Bennet. That was not information which had been easily uncovered. It had taken some yelling and threatening before Darcy gave it up.

Mr. Bennet nodded slowly as he absorbed all that had been presented to him. “And you have told me all you have about Wickham so that I can make known his real character in an attempt to force him from the area.”

“That is the plan. If all goes well, I shall host a Yuletide ball to celebrate my betrothal to Miss Bennet. Darcy will, of course, attend, and he and his sister will join me for Christmas.” Or so Bingley hoped. “And then, well, then, I suppose, we shall see what can be done about improving Miss Elizabeth’s opinion of my friend.”

“Well, then.” Mr. Bennet stood and straightened his jacket. “I feel a need to visit my friend Sir William and share some gossip concerning a particular officer.” He lifted a hand to forestall Bingley’s comments. “I shall not reveal my source, nor will I mention the attempted seduction.”

“I had not thought you would, sir. I was only going to agree that indeed, a little gossip might be our solution.”

Mr. Bennet chuckled. “Do not let the parson hear you say so.”

“I would not think to tell him.”

“I suppose you had best be about your business with my daughter if we wish to announce a betrothal,” Mr. Bennet said as he opened the door to his study, motioning for Bingley to exit ahead of him, which Bingley did. “Two sons – two wealthy sons,” Mr. Bennet muttered softly as he followed behind Bingley. “Fanny shall surely go distracted!”