Unforgiving Temper (4 page)

Darcy had thought to do Bingley a great favor
by saving him from an unequal affection, but Elizabeth's passionate
discourse on that subject had altered his opinion. Her vehement
words in Hunsford, bitterly condemning his assessment of her
sister's reserved nature as cold and mercenary, was compelling
evidence that Bingley had not been the only one made miserable by
Darcy's interference. Elizabeth had declared her sister's feelings
to be every bit as engaged as Bingley's; and who would know Jane
Bennet's heart better than her own sister?

Darcy's mouth pressed into a thin line. In
truth, Bingley's case was not one of unequal affection. Jane Bennet
loved Charles; and therein lay the difference between Bingley's
misery and his own. In his own case, Elizabeth's declaration of “so
immovable a dislike” had made her feelings painfully clear. She had
not the slightest affection for him.

The heaviness in Darcy's chest was becoming
unbearable. Honor demanded that he confess his role in separating
the two lovers; yet he resisted, knowing it could very well break
the friendship he and Bingley shared. Charles was one of a very
select group with whom Darcy could truly feel at ease and speak his
mind, and he did not want to lose that.

Fighting down the urge to retreat from the
obligation, Darcy steeled himself. It must be done. He would not
keep his unhappy friend ignorant of the possible joy a return to
Netherfield could bring.

“Darcy, have we not been together since the
middle of March? You must tell me what you have been doing. What of
your visit to Rosings Park - is your family in good health?”

“Yes, they are in good health. The visit this
year was somewhat more difficult than I anticipated, but it is an
obligation I bear willingly.”

“Ah, yes. I see. Your aunt continues her
campaign for you to wed your cousin, then?” Bingley's voice held a
hint of despair, for it was obvious any thoughts of marriage
brought a painful reminder of his own misfortunes.

“The subject of marriage did arise once
during my visit,” said Darcy uncomfortably, “but that is a stone
better left unturned. Charles, I am at your disposal. Tell me what
business this is that calls you from London so urgently, and I
shall endeavor to give my best advice. When we have finished, if
you will permit me, I have something I wish to discuss with
you
.”

“
You
have something you wish to
discuss with
me
? I daresay, Darcy, you have my interest
already!”

“Yes, I imagine I do; but it is for you to
begin.”

“Very well, then. Do you recall my cousin,
John Ashworth, from Scarborough? He is – was – the only child of my
father's sister, Aunt Celia.”

“Yes, I recall you saying something about him
after your last visit to the north. He was ill, was he not?”

“He was, for some time. The doctors did
everything in their power, but were unable to affect a cure. The
short of it is, he died last week.”

“I am sorry to hear that. May I offer my
condolences?”

“Yes, of course. I thank you; however, we
were not close. I saw him but once a year. Still, being the nearest
relative he has, his wife, Mary, summoned me at his passing. I have
been in Scarborough these past three weeks trying to sort out his
affairs. I am finding the task somewhat overwhelming.”

“Is there trouble with the terms of his
will?”

“No, not exactly. It is just that John's long
illness left many things unattended at the factory. Mary managed to
keep it going, but the receivables have not been called in. Her
ready cash has been reduced to almost nothing and the creditors are
at her door night and day. There is even talk of seizing the
assets, so I must return as soon as possible to prevent it.
Travelling back and forth to London to meet with my solicitor has
been very inconvenient, to say the least; and I am in need of a
competent attorney who is a good deal closer to Scarborough. I
thought you might recommend a reputable firm in that part of the
country that would suit my purpose.”

“I can recommend an excellent one. Pemberley
has a long-standing association with Sneed and Bybee of York. They
have served us well since my grandfather's time.”

Searching his desk for a moment, Darcy copied
the directions and handed them to Bingley. His friend eagerly
examined the sheet of paper before folding it and slipping it into
his pocket with a pat to his chest.

“Thank you, Darcy. I am indebted to you. When
my father died, I was too young to be of much use in settling his
affairs, and I am completely bewildered with all the demands that
seem to be flying at me. I will say I am glad to have a friend such
as you; someone I can trust and on whom I can always depend,
especially when it comes to this sort of thing! And now it would be
my pleasure to return the favor. Tell me, what is it you wish to
discuss with
me
?”

Darcy measured his friend, coming to the
decision that the dreaded conversation should be postponed. He
would not add to Bingley's worries just yet.

“From the experience of my own father's
passing, I know that settling an estate can be very demanding.
Given all you have to do and the urgency of your business, I would
not think of burdening you further. It can wait for another
day.”

“Nonsense! You have always given me good
advice and encouraged me in all my endeavors. What kind of friend
would I be if I could not do the same for you?”

“Believe me, Charles, with all that you have
in front of you, you do not need another thing to occupy your
thoughts. It will keep until you have finished your business in the
north.”

“Darcy, I won't have you refusing my help if
I can give it. Tell me what is on your mind; and if I cannot oblige
you at present, I will acknowledge it. Come now - I insist!”

Seeing Bingley would not be persuaded
otherwise, Darcy took a deep breath, eyeing his friend with some
trepidation, and then began.

At the end of the account, Bingley sat
motionless, staring at Darcy in open disbelief. As expected, it was
a wretched beginning. Darcy looked away in embarrassment and
absently studied the stitching on his boots. There was no more to
say. Now he could only wait.

After some moments, Bingley's disbelief
expanded into a singular show of quiet fury. Refusing to look at
Darcy, his cool words were filled with a bitter accusation.

“Do you mean to tell me…she had been in
London above three months…and no one…not even
you
…said a
word?”

Shame and remorse filled Darcy's heart. He
had allowed himself to be blinded by his own foolish pride and
callous prejudice. He had betrayed his principles and wounded his
friend deeply.

“Yes, my friend, I mean just that. I deeply
regret my interference. It was presumptuous of me and I apologize
most sincerely. I know now I was mistaken in judging
Miss Bennet's heart. I was wrong in believing it would not be
easily touched.”

Steeped in resentment and the anguish of a
festering wound laid bare, Bingley seemed not to hear Darcy's
words. In another moment, though, their meaning finally penetrated
his dazed senses and he narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“Mistaken? Did you say you were mistaken?” He
leaned forward with guarded interest. “What makes you say
that?”

“I, ah…” Clearing his throat, Darcy shifted
slightly in his chair. “Her sister, Miss Elizabeth, was
visiting the wife of Aunt Catherine's parson, Mrs. Collins, at the
same time as my visit to Rosings. I was in her company on several
occasions and she was very much of the opinion that Miss Jane
Bennet did, in fact, hold you in high regard.”

Bingley's face brightened with a flash of
hope that that lasted only a moment as doubt took its place.
“Miss Elizabeth? Are you certain? Forgive my frankness, Darcy,
but the two of you do not get on well at all. Why should she
express such an opinion to you, of all people?”

“I am afraid I am not in a position to
disclose the particulars as it involves a private matter; but you
must believe me, Charles. There was an affection on
Miss Bennet's side.”

Bingley eyed Darcy suspiciously.

“I do not believe you!” he muttered
impassively. “It has not been above six months that you convinced
me she felt nothing for me! And now, after months of a most
miserable existence, you tell me you were mistaken? I am sorry, but
I am not convinced.”

“I tell you, I could not have been more wrong
when I said she had no particular regard for you. Six months ago, I
did not fully comprehend her amiable temper, but I stand
corrected.” He sighed at the memory of Elizabeth's eyes flashing
their disapproval. “I assure you, Miss Elizabeth was
quite
clear in expressing her sister's disappointment
regarding you.”

Try as he might, Darcy's assertions would not
sway Bingley; and he knew it required the complete truth if Bingley
was to be convinced of Jane Bennet's true affection. There was
nothing left but for Darcy to confess everything, including his own
reprehensible part in preventing the attachment.

Remorsefully, he recounted his involvement in
Caroline's scheme to quit Netherfield and follow Bingley to London,
leaving the Bennet family with the expectation that they would not
return. He also confessed his knowledge of letters written and
particulars of the barely-civil visits between Bingley's own
sisters and Jane Bennet when she was in London. He could not,
however, bring himself to disclose the exact source of his
knowledge regarding Jane's feelings, which was, of course, his
disastrous proposal to Elizabeth.

At the conclusion of his account, he looked
anxiously to Bingley whose motionless figure crumpled with a
devastating comprehension of the abuse his sweet Jane had suffered.
A fresh wave of misery enveloped Bingley as he dropped his head
into his hands, giving a low, mournful cry of despair that pierced
Darcy to the very core.

Just as Darcy had feared, the revelation had
shattered the steadfast faith and trust that marked their years of
friendship. What had he done? Darcy drew several deep breaths,
swallowing hard to dislodge the lump that had suddenly formed in
his throat, but the effort only increased his misery. With clenched
jaw, he fought against the tears now welling in his eyes until they
no longer threatened to expose him. Bingley's dreadful silence
pressed heavily on him.

At last Bingley spoke in a tone that was
barely audible, “What must she think of me? I am undone!” He then
sank once again into the gloom of his own private despair.

Darcy waited for Bingley's wrath to descend
with well-deserved condemnation, but nothing came. The grandfather
clock near the window marked the silence as his tortured mind
searched desperately for a means of repairing the damage he had
done. A possible remedy finally materialized and he seized it. He
was hesitant of the outcome, but it seemed to be his only hope of
spanning the awful chasm that had opened up between the two of
them. Anxiously, he broke the excruciating silence.

“Charles…may I offer a suggestion?”

Laced with bitterness, Bingley's voice came
from behind his hands, “You may, and I may choose to ignore it,
particularly given my success with your advice thus far.”

Darcy sighed quietly at Bingley's response.
It was stiff and formal, but it gave him hope that he had not lost
the friendship completely! Encouraged by his friend's faint attempt
at civility, he leaned forward, eager to make amends and assist
Charles in securing a happiness he himself had no hope of
obtaining.

“You could start by returning to
Netherfield,” Darcy began, then waited for a response. When there
was only angry silence, he quickly finished laying out the entire
plan for Bingley's consideration. “There are matters to attend to
in giving up the place, and while you are there, you could make a
few social calls. The society of your neighbors would afford an
excellent opportunity to see if the lady's acquaintance may indeed
be renewed. If you find it is too late – which I sincerely expect
is not the case – then you simply close up the house and be gone.
What do you say?”

Bingley lowered his hands to eye Darcy with
bitter skepticism. “And you think that after what you have just
told me of Jane's ill treatment these past months, I could dare to
hope my return to Hertfordshire would be a
welcomed
event?!”

“Charles, I realize under the circumstances
you may be somewhat reluctant; but would it not be better to
undertake the matter directly and discover the lady's feelings for
yourself? Should you endeavor to do so, I suspect you will find her
regard to be quite the opposite of what you suppose.”

“I do not know, Darcy. It has been so long,
and so much has happened. I fear I have lost my chance for
happiness with Jane Bennet.”

“Then is there any more to lose by making the
attempt? If you do not even try, consider this: Can you live with
the endless misery of wondering what might have been had you acted
differently?”

Too absorbed in considering the possibility
of a second chance, Bingley failed to hear that very same misery
manifested in Darcy's desolate tone.

With all his heart Darcy hoped his letter to
Elizabeth had explained his family's connection to Wickham well
enough to acquit himself of any offense in that quarter; and in
particular, convince her that his own actions toward the man were
justified.

His behavior in the matter of her sister and
Bingley, however, could not be justified. Too late, he had come to
realize the true nature of their affection for one another, and
that knowledge made the arrogance and pride with which he had
carried out and defended his actions all the more reprehensible. He
had only himself to blame for his disappointment in love, but
Bingley and Jane Bennet could not be blamed for theirs. That
responsibility rested squarely on his shoulders.