Pride and Prejudice Illustration by C.E. Brock

Bingley turned away from his careful study of Miss Bennet’s door as he heard footsteps coming towards him. Darcy did not look pleased about something. But then, he really had not looked pleased about much of anything since he had arrived in Hertfordshire.

“Why are the youngest Miss Bennets in the drawing room?” his friend demanded softly as he came to stand next to him.

Ah, yes, the local riffraff. Their presence in Darcy’s precious world of propriety-at-all costs would annoy him. Bingley shrugged. “I suppose it is because they wished to see the place. At least, that is what I gleaned from the exclamations of proper delight from Miss Lydia upon entering.”

And truly there was no other reason for them to have accompanied their mother. It was not as if either Miss Lydia or Miss Kitty could do anything to help their eldest sister. Indeed, according to their mother, they were not wanted in the sick room.

“Did they arrive upon your doorstep requesting a tour? That seems rather forward of them, and I will mark it in your mind that such behaviour does not recommend their family as one to which to tie oneself.”

Bingley sighed. He was in no frame of mind to put up with a Darcy who had not yet fully forgiven him for his speech last night and who was looking for instances in which to prove himself correct.

“No, we would not wish to be associated with any more disagreeable relations than those with whom we are already burdened through certain connections.” He gave Darcy a pointed look. “Do not tell me that you have forgotten your aunt’s inquisition of me upon our first meeting? I fully expected her to lift my foot to inspect the soles of my boots before taking a look at my teeth. I am surprised her favourite nephew did not take her advice to disassociate himself from one who was so closely tied to trade.”

“Her nephew may still do so,” Darcy grumbled.

“Do as you see fit.” Bingley turned back to what he had been doing – waiting impatiently for Mr. Jones to reappear from Miss Bennet’s room to tell him how she fared.

“Why are the youngest Miss Bennets here?” Darcy asked.

“Because their mother was summoned to evaluate her daughter’s condition, and they came with her.”

At this, Darcy looked genuinely concerned. “Has Miss Bennet grown worse?”

“According to her sister both last night after you left Hurst and me and again this morning when I inquired through a maid, yes. That is why Mr. Jones arrived a few minutes ago. I am just waiting to hear if any further assistance is needed.”

“Would you send to town for your doctor?”

“If needed.”

“I could send for mine.”

Bingley arched a brow as he glanced at his friend. “Feeling charitable to those beneath your notice, are you?”

Darcy was not the only one who had not fully recovered from last night’s argument. It still rankled in a way nothing ever had rankled Bingley before that his friend did not approve of the lady who had captured his attention.

“Beneath my what?” Darcy sputtered. “About what are you speaking?”

Bingley gave his friend a perplexed look. Was the man really so dense? “I believe that both yesterday and just now you have cautioned me that Miss Bennet is not good enough for me,” he whispered.

“I did not say she was not good enough. I said the match would not be advantageous,” Darcy protested. 

“I do not see the difference in the two statements, nor do I wish to give the topic any further consideration. Leave me to my ignorance and my guest. I will do my best to be understanding if you refuse to keep my acquaintance after I marry.”

“Why –” Darcy looked from Bingley to the door to Miss Bennet’s room and back. “Have you decided to marry her?”

“Nearly.” Bingley scrubbed his face. “I have been awake half the night worrying about if she is well or not. Do you think you could hold your lecture about deciding such things too quickly or how marrying for love might not be prudent until later?”

“Marrying for love? Imprudent?” Darcy shook his head. “You truly think that I would wish for you to marry without love?”

“Only if the lady’s family was unacceptable, it seems. Now, please, go away.”

A pained expression settled on Darcy’s features. Apparently, he was beginning to see something other than his own offense. “Do you want me to leave Netherfield?”

Or more precisely, Bingley amended his thought, Darcy had just cottoned on to how offensive he had been and was likely already chastising himself for it far more than he should. The man truly was the reigning monarch of jumping from one extreme to another in a heartbeat. 

Bingley shook his head. “I just want to fret over the wellbeing of the lovely lady in that room without having to defend myself to you for doing so. Please, just leave me be.”

Darcy held Bingley’s gaze for half a minute before giving a firm shake of his head and saying, “No.”

“What do you mean, no?”