The Return

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Miss Bingley had halfway descended into a mania.
“Cheapside!” She stabbed her fingers inches from Bingley’s nose. “His residence is in Cheapside. Do you understand what that means? He can see his warehouses from his own house. How dare you consider attaching me to such a man?”
Darcy knew he should stop her. The snarling, red faced anger she’d reached due to frustration would not convince Bingley to drop Miss Bennet. But — it was so very amusing. She’d not started this way; it had taken ten minutes of Bingley’s determined silence to bring her to it.
Miss Elizabeth would have laughed. She would have hid it while in the same room, but the instant she was alone, she would have turned her pert nose up and laughed.
Bingley hated confrontation and hunched behind a tall winged back chair. It was not enough to protect him from Miss Bingley. Her voice was now a banshee’s hysterical shriek, “Answer me. Cheapside. How dare you?”
Without looking at her, Bingley mumbled, “Not in Cheapside, near it. Gracechurch Street is outside of the district.”
“It makes no difference!”
Bingley jumped back at the savage rage in his sister’s voice. His terrified eyes darted around the richly decorated walls of his drawing room. Darcy smiled and shrugged at him.
He’d always hoped to be present when Miss Bingley made her bid to enter Bedlam. Miss Elizabeth’s eyes would have been so bright and delighted as she watched.
“Do you despise me?” Miss Bingley circled around the chair trying to get closer to Bingley who kept backing away to keep the chair between them.
Miss Bingley stopped and clapped her hands over her mouth. “You do! That is it. You hate me. There could be no other reason. Why do you hate me? Have I not always loved you? Have I not always cared for you? How can you hate me? Oh! Oh” — she moaned and turned her eyes towards the heavens — “What did I do to deserve such a hateful brother?”
“Enough! I will not give way. I will not.”
Darcy had never heard Bingley shout so.
Bingley’s eyes were wide. Clearly he had never heard himself shout so either. He reverted to form. “Please, can we not stop this useless dispute? You know I hate to argue. I have never cared for another creature as I do Jane, and I will not give her up. Caroline, I — I love her, does that matter nothing to you? Does my happiness mean nothing to you?”
The longing in Bingley’s eyes destroyed Darcy’s glee. The situation was not amusing. Why couldn’t Jane Bennet have loved his friend? Despite everything else, he could have supported Bingley if she loved him.
Still shocked by Bingley’s shout, Miss Bingley blinked at him for several seconds. Then she sneered. “I shall not cease. You flirt with so many angels — just find another. It is never hard for men like you to switch the object of their affections.”
Darcy almost winced. It was clear as day that Bingley’s feelings towards Jane Bennet were stronger than any before. And to insult a man so. It struck at his honor. He needed to stop Miss Bingley before she made Bingley immune to reason.
“Miss Bingley.” Darcy spoke coldly, “You have spoken. Your brother heard you. Give him an opportunity to consider your words.”
Miss Bingley startled. A struggle showed on her face. She clearly wished to use whatever argument was in her mind. She snarled at Bingley one last time, “If you marry Jane Bennet, I shall never speak to you again.” As Bingley blinked at that threat, Miss Bingley gave Darcy the sweetest smile. “Of course, Mr. Darcy, whatever you think best.”
Miss Bingley and her sister left through the doors of the drawing room. Though she had regained most of her gentlewoman’s composure and glided gracefully out of the room, Darcy fancied that the back of Miss Bingley’s dress still vibrated with tension.
Mr. Hurst stood with a grunt and resettled his coat around his expansive waist. “Bingley, you care little for my counsel, so I’ll not say much. Jane Bennet is a damned pretty girl, and her mother sets an excellent table. Still, they have nothing, and those younger sisters will embarrass the family terribly. However, you wouldn’t marry them. Make your own choice like a man — you will regret whatever you do, but” — he gave a significant look towards the door through which his wife had exited — “I prefer to regret mistakes I can blame on myself to those where I trusted another.”
Darcy pursed his lips and stared at the closed door as Bingley let out a long breath and sprawled himself over the royal blue couch.
“That was almost wise,” Darcy said.
“What, Hurst?” Bingley had an arm over his eyes that muffled his voice. “He’s deeper than he seems. Most people are.”
Darcy grunted and settled into an armchair and waited for Bingley to speak.
It was several minutes before Bingley said, without removing the arm he had over his eyes, “Knew Caroline had a temper, but this one was special. I’m sorry you saw that.”
“It didn’t bother me.”
“No, I could see you were laughing at her behind that steady expression. Still, I wish you hadn’t seen it.” Bingley sat up. “What convinced you I shouldn’t marry Jane? You said some nonsense about how she didn’t care for me.”
“I looked for evidence that she did. After I learned the neighborhood expected you would marry Miss Bennet, I observed the two of you closely for the remainder of the evening. Your partiality is clear. However, I saw no evidence of hers. She smiled and accepted your attention — but she smiled at everyone she spoke to. She treated you the same as everyone. There were no special marks of affection.”
Darcy sighed. Bingley’s eyes were intent on him, and he had gone pale as he shook his head. Darcy looked away. It was even more painful to break Bingley’s heart than he had expected. “I am sorry. I sincerely am. But you do not have her heart. Her mother is eager to trap a wealthy man, and Miss Bennet would need to accept if you offered. It would be better for her as well as you were she to marry a man she was not indifferent to.”
“No, no. Jane cares for me. I’m sure of it. She must.” Bingley smashed his fist against his mouth. “Good God, you are serious. You are convinced Jane doesn’t care anything for me. But, I thought — I was sure she cared for me.”
“You cannot wish her to be made to marry without real affection? You cannot wish her to merely tolerate marriage to you.”
“No. I would not — but I was sure she felt for me as I did for her. We shared so many confidences and talked so much.”
“It is because you always approach her; given her mother’s wishes, she cannot discourage you. It is painful. I wish it were otherwise. I sincerely do. But you must accept the truth. She does not love you.”
Bingley rubbed his mouth and looked about like a puppy whose master had kicked him. “But I love her. How could she not —” Bingley closed his eyes and sighed. “If she cares nothing for me — I do not wish her trapped. You must be right — you always are.”
Darcy was always reticent with physical touch, but he still went to sit next to Bingley on the couch and patted him on the shoulder. Bingley’s manner was dejected as he stared at the floor. Darcy knew this was his fault. If only he had not been so focused on his unsuitable admiration for Miss Elizabeth, he would have seen how his friend felt before the attachment became so serious.
“I do not understand. How I could be so mistaken — when I think back on our conversations, I still see affection. She always talked eagerly to me, always with a smile. We discussed our hopes openly.”
“I examined her countenance and her behavior most closely that night. She showed no symptom of deep regard for you — none.”
Bingley nearly looked like he wished to cry. It made Darcy’s chest and eyes ache in sympathy. He hated to see his friend unhappy. Bingley almost always was happy.
“I only wish —” Bingley stared at the mantle above the fireplace, where he had hung portraits of his parents. “I only wish I could be certain. She spoke as though she had affection for me.”
“Certainty in such cases is impossible. However —” Darcy took a deep breath as he searched for the best words to convince Bingley to give up hope. His friend would not be able to leave this dismal affair behind him until he felt sure.
As Darcy thought, Bingley straightened happily. “I could ask her.”
“I have already told you she will accept a proposal — in her position she must.” The somberness of the occasion did not fully mask Darcy’s annoyance when forced to repeat himself.
“I know that — I shall ask her to tell me what she feels; whether she loves me as I her. No matter what her interests, she would not lie about her affection.”
“She is poor — it is not possible to trust the words of the desperate.”
The two men stared at each other. Darcy grimaced. He should not have implied Jane Bennet might lie. She was a gentlewoman, and her behavior had always been exemplary. He had no call to question her character. Yet, Mrs. Younge had been raised a gentlewoman, and she lied to them. He could not repent his caution to Bingley.
“Enough. You shall not insult my Jane. If she lies, I am entirely deceived in her character and will suffer the consequence. Besides, I love her. You and Caroline may think I am a useless, flighty gentleman, but I am not such a man. I could not find another angel to love just because I flirt easily. I love Jane, and I will remain in love with her. I am not so changeable. Until she says that she wishes nothing to do with me, I will pursue her.”
Bingley’s sudden stubbornness surprised Darcy into silence. Why must his friend choose now to discover firmness? The consequences were very like to haunt him the rest of his life. He should have silenced Miss Bingley far sooner and not suggested Miss Bennet was dishonest.
Bingley walked to the door with his head high. He turned round, “I do not trust your observation of Jane any more. You do not understand her character. She would never deceive me in a matter of such import. You have had maybe half a conversation with her — because you were too busy arguing with Miss Elizabeth. I should trust my own observation. I am sure she loves me.”
Darcy started after his friend. “Wait, Bingley — I should not have said that. Miss Bennet is a fine gentlewoman. But I beg you, be cautious.”
Bingley grinned back. “I know you did not mean it. Even a man as fastidious as you can see that Jane is an angel.”