An Unlikely Acquaintance

Part 33

"Married, Darcy!"

Bingley took another sip of another drink and ran a hand through his hair, rumpling it beyond repair. One of the waiters hovered discretely nearby but Darcy waved him off, laying a light hand on his friend's shoulder and steering him to a table in a quiet corner of the club, where they might continue their conversation without disturbance.

"Tell me the whole, Bingley. You keep muttering snatches and I am yet to make sense of it. And -" He reached for Bingley's glass before he could swallow its contents and demand yet another. "You ought to pace yourself. It is still early."

He waved a waiter over and requested water and strong coffee be brought, and the remnants of Bingley's brandy disposed of.

"We went to call on the Gardiners, Caroline and I. You know, I promised I would and it occurred to me that it has been some weeks and I have never yet made the call, and I do not like to be thought not a man of my word, only Caroline was forever busy and you know she is not eager to be seen calling on anyone who resides in Cheapside." He blew out a frustrated sigh. "She casts such aspersions on people. As if we should think badly of them simply because of where they happen to live."

"So you called at Gracechurch Street," Darcy prompted, eager to keep his friend to task, for Bingley was so scattered he was in danger of meandering into oblivion and leaving Darcy no nearer to discovering the truth of what had so upset him.

"Yes." Bingley poured himself a glass of water from the tray that had just arrived and took a steadying sip. "Mary was there. She is to return to Hertfordshire in just a few days, you know."

"I was aware," Darcy murmured.

"Well, she had received a letter from home and apparently - it seems - that is, there was some indication that -" He took another sip before forcing himself to pronounce the words that had left him so distraught. "Jane has formed an attachment with someone else." He looked so woefully in Darcy's direction that he somehow guessed the answer before Bingley offered it. "Your cousin. Colonel Fitzwilliam."

Darcy's eyebrows lifted although he supposed he ought not to have been surprised. Richard was not given to effusion but in a letter he had written to Georgiana there had been repeated mentions of Miss Bennet by name and that surely betrayed that she occupied his thoughts more than was proper for any young lady of a mere passing acquaintance.

"I knew I should have spoken before we left!" Charles wailed. "No, I should not have left at all! If only I had not allowed my sister to persuade me otherwise. If I had been there! If she had known – I – I thought she did know." He kicked at the table, making their glasses clatter noisily together and Darcy glanced up to check his friend's reaction had not caused more curious eyes to fix on them. Bingley downed the rest of his water and reached for the pitcher to refill it, simply to give his hands something to do.

"Well, all is not lost." His eyes glinted with determination. "I shall yet have my say. She must know that I care for her too, then she may make an informed choice." He nodded, his enthusiasm for the plan growing even as he began to piece it together in his mind. "I'll go now. It is an easy journey to Hertfordshire if I am travelling alone and I shall go directly to Longbourn -"

"And say what?" Darcy put in, caught by his desire to support his friend, whose campaign for Jane's heart had been derailed not only by Caroline's interference but, he realised with shame, his own. Yet he could not throw himself whole-heartedly behind any plan that would so disappoint his own cousin, could he? His head began to pound as the disagreeability of his position settled upon him and he reached for the coffee-pot, pouring himself a thick, steaming cup he drank, hot and black and bitter. It did little to ease his headache or frustration. Why must men forever lose their hearts to women that did not suit? His own heart rose at that, taunting him with the truth he had done his best to avoid, and reminding him that distance was hardly enough to shatter affection when it was genuine.

"Let me go."

He would not know, either now or afterwards when he reflected upon things, what prompted him to make this suggestion. He could not claim to be acting entirely in Charles Bingley's interest, nor could he ever suggest his actions were on his cousin's behalf, for if he valued Richard, only, he would persuade Charles out of any intervention at all. There was a third reason, a secret reason he only now began to acknowledge. A return to Hertfordshire would be a return to Elizabeth, and he realised now how dearly he longed to see her again, to confess his folly and foolishness, to ask that she forgive him and allow him to begin again. She bore no ill-will to his cousin, perhaps that was indicative of the reception he, too, might receive upon his return.

Return to do what? I shall bring nothing but trouble. If Charles's intelligence is good and Jane Bennet truly is poised to marry my cousin, then to arrive and plead the case of another will afford me nothing but enemies on all sides. Yet surely if he went he could manage the matter. Charles Bingley would burst in, half-drunk and entirely discombobulated and cause a spectacle that would not easily be forgotten by anyone. Removed from matters as he was, and with concerns riding on all sides, there could surely be no better mediator than Fitzwilliam Darcy. His confidence grew as he nursed his coffee and he nodded, making the offer a second time, then a third.

"It makes sense, Bingley. I shall go today, now, and see what there is to be done. I will find out the truth of the matter and send word to you. If Jane Bennet is happy with my cousin, you must bear the loss as best you can, and I should advise not returning to Hertfordshire. It would only cause you pain. If she still cares for you..." He trailed off, but Bingley leapt in with a suggestion of his own.

"Then I shall come immediately and prostrate myself before her, begging her forgiveness and asking that she marry me instead!"

Darcy nodded, but he could not bring himself to match his friend's smile. If Jane Bennet threw off her new fiancé for the promise of Charles Bingley, his friend would rejoice in his good fortune and happiness, pleading with Darcy to join him. What, then, would become of Richard Fitzwilliam?

I cannot make any conjecture until I know for certain where Jane Bennet's heart lies, he told himself. There might yet be some solution, some way through this that would cost him neither the friendship of Charles Bingley nor his relationship with his cousin, but he doubted it.

There is one person, and one only, who might help me find a way forward. At this, his heart leapt. His predicament would be the very excuse he needed to see her again, and he only hoped that she would be the aid and helpmate he imagined she could.

Elizabeth will know what to do, he told himself. And she will help me, for her sister's sake, if not for mine.

The End

A/N - I'll be back posting Book 2 in this short series soon! Thank you for reading xx