An Unexpected Ally

Part 28

Candlelight flickered warmly in the Netherfield parlour, making the shadows dance across the walls and the faces of his friends.

Yes, Darcy reasoned, it was the presence of his friends that contributed to the intangible warmth of the room. They had steered clear all evening of mentioning either Jane or Colonel Fitzwilliam again, and as a result, Charles seemed to have come a little back to life. Caroline, too, had rallied, appearing at dinner freshly dressed in what must have been a new dress that looked strangely out of place in the countryside but was objectively very becoming. She had been delighted with the suggestion of playing a duet with Georgiana and their first attempt had been so well-received after dinner that they were now halfway through their second, with a third and even a fourth lined up to follow.

There was a fumbling and a false note here and there and Darcy could not help but recall how perfectly matched Georgiana and Mary's duets had been. It spoke to the closeness of their friendship, he supposed, which was in itself miraculous, considering how short a time the two had known one another.

It is proof positive that time known is no true indicator of affection. If only Darcy had fully appreciated that fact when first he had been in Meryton. He might have accepted the genuineness of Bingley's affections for Jane Bennet, instead of dismissing them as a fancy soon forgotten. If I had not listened to Caroline, if I had not thought I knew better...

What then? If he had not acted in accordance with Caroline Bingley he would not have encouraged the removal to London - which is not to say it would not still have happened for Caroline had a pronounced sway over her brother she was reluctant to give up, as she would be forced to do when he married. Yet her influence was not enough to keep Charles from returning, he reflected, again rueing his part in that particular development.

Jane had surely received the flowers that Charles had sent to Longbourn by now. What would her reaction be?

Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, noticing that, despite Bingley's cheerful mood, his expression at rest was still cloudy and far-off, as if his thoughts, like Darcy's, lay elsewhere than the parlour he was sitting in. He, too, thought of Longbourn, Darcy did not doubt, and of the reception he might receive when he was permitted to call there.

Darcy sighed. He had no guarantee of a warm reception, himself. He was a prisoner, now, conscious that Longbourn was less open to him than it had been that very morning. Meryton, too, was a battleground, and he had held his breath the whole time that they were there, fearing to cross paths with either his cousin or George Wickham, and not knowing which he would prefer.

This was what rankled worst of all, he supposed. Did he owe Richard more by virtue of their family connection? Bingley's return to Meryton had the potential to destroy every hope Richard had of future happiness if Jane Bennet decided to break their engagement and favour Bingley once more.

That is no reflection upon me, he told himself. It would be an indication of her inconstancy. In truth, it would prove that I was right all along to suspect her of being undeserving of my cousin.

It was a hollow reflection and one that made his features sink into a scowl. Had he dared to sit in judgment of people who did not act precisely as he thought right? And what right did he have to judge anybody when his own actions were so open to criticism. You caused this, his conscience reminded him. He need not have written encouraging Bingley to return. He might have downplayed everything. Or you might have been honest. He squirmed. He could have - should have - written to Bingley insisting that it was too late. Jane had not only an affection with Richard Fitzwilliam but the pair were to be married and it was in Bingley's best interests to stay away, to try to move on. Charles might have disregarded him and come back to Meryton anyway, but at least Darcy's conscience would have been clear. Instead, it barracked at him whenever he was favoured with a moment's quiet thought. He was at odds with his cousin, made worse by his cruelty in summoning Charles Bingley back. And Elizabeth...

He sank deeper into his chair, resting his head in his hands. Elizabeth will certainly never forgive me. She held his previous interference in Jane's happiness against him: how much worse would this action damage their fragile peace? Peace. How much more he longed for from Elizabeth Bennet than a mere cessation of hostilities. He had glimpsed it, that morning, the fleeting hope that a future between them might be possible. He did love her so very much...and again, he had hesitated too long in saying so. Now it was surely too late, and in lashing out at his cousin, he had ruined his own chances at happiness...

"William?"

Georgiana's voice trilled with laughter and Darcy straightened, glancing around him in surprise to see that the gathered occupants of the parlour were staring at him in veiled, expectant amusement. He realised, at last, that his sister and Caroline had reached the end of their piece, and when they turned to their audience expecting praise, they had received acknowledgement only from Charles, as Darcy looked more like he was drifting towards sleep.

"Wonderful," he said, with forced brightness. He shifted in his seat, leaning forward and eyeing the piano with eagerness. "You will play another?"

"Only if you promise to listen and not fall asleep!" Georgiana smiled, selecting a piece with a faster tempo to ensure they did not lose their audience a second time.