The Hursts' residence in Grosvenor Street, late morning
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"Before you ask, no. I will not go with you to Mr. Darcy's house today. Do not raise the subject with me again. I am weary of it."
"It is not Mr. Darcy, but Miss Darcy to whom I think we owe a visit, dear sister."
"And how is that any better? I will not countenance your descending upon that young girl and frightening her with questions about the whereabouts of her brother. You know how timid she is! Besides, we do not know if Mr. Darcy has even informed her that he is in town."
"Of course he has! He is a better brother than Charles, who has yet to contact us."
"Why would Charles send a note or come here expecting to see us? He believes us to be in Hertfordshire!" Louisa was exasperated beyond bearing. Was Caroline's desperation making her daft?
"Oh, well...I suppose you are right about Miss Darcy. It is a herculean task to elicit more than a few words from the girl. Perhaps it is not worth the trouble."
Caroline's voice sounded a little too bright and her agreement rang a little too false in Louisa's opinion. If her sister made a fool of herself during her first week back in town, she would ruin her chances of becoming Mrs. Darcy, not that Louisa believed her chances were very great in any case. Had Mr. Darcy not removed himself as quickly as possible from their company and stayed away, she might have had hope. Caroline, on the other hand, was not likely to allow Mr. Darcy's recent behaviour to influence her own, but Caroline was always the more reluctant of the two of them to become resigned to reality.
"Admit it, Caroline: our plans have failed. It is Saturday. Charles is now either preparing to travel or already on his way back to Hertfordshire. He will return to Netherfield, and to Miss Bennet, and there is nothing we can do about it."
"I will never admit defeat!" Caroline insisted.
With that, Louisa shook her head and left the room.
Fitzwilliam Darcy's town residence, in the afternoon
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"Still not here! What can you mean?"
"I mean, Madam, that Mr. Darcy is not at home."
"He has to be! This is the third time I have attempted to call on him today! First I cannot find Charles, and now Mr. Darcy is missing! They must be somewhere! London cannot have swallowed them up!"
The butler was tempted to point out that expressing her frustration in a loud voice on the steps of his employer's home was not perhaps the best choice, but he said nothing.
After some minutes of silence on his part, complaints and imprecations (rather shocking, actually) of varying volume on the part of the lady before him, a few apologetic glances from the maid that had accompanied her, and more than a few stares from passers-by, he offered what vague nothings he felt were particularly suited to the occasion—an offering that was barely heard, much less acknowledged or accepted—and very slowly and very quietly closed the door.
A little wilderness on Longbourn's lawn, in the afternoon
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Darcy looked about him as he took one of the paths through the charming grounds. Every thing appeared so calm here. Life inside Longbourn House, however, was any thing but calm!
After having revealed his feelings to Elizabeth, he had become the subject of her unrelenting scrutiny. Had he stared at her even half as much in the past weeks as she stared at him now? He could rarely look up and not find her observing him. Such a circumstance, while not unwelcome, was not exactly soothing.
He had also endured Mr. Collins's long-winded leave-taking, which he was sorry to think he might have extended by his own presence, if the excessive mention of his "noble aunt" and his "esteemed cousin" and repeated offers to convey messages to either were any indication. Whatever regret Darcy felt for his part in prolonging their suffering was lessened, however, by his conviction that his presence also kept Mrs. Bennet's complaints against her second-eldest child to a minimum. She had not yet forgiven her daughter for allowing Longbourn's heir to take his leave without having secured her hand and all the Bennet ladies' futures.
The youngest two girls, who were generally noisy, never seemed to run out of subjects to talk of, and this morning's events provided them an additional one. Sir William arrived after breakfast and announced his eldest daughter's engagement to Mr. Collins. Darcy had little time to triumph in having divined Mr. Collins's secret before he found himself endeavouring to assist Elizabeth and Miss Bennet in smoothing over the others' unfortunate responses to this intelligence. The house was still buzzing with the news.
In fact, things had been so busy that no one had had leisure to wonder why Darcy was still at Longbourn. That was convenient, for he wished very much to delay his departure. He would have been inclined to do so simply to enjoy Elizabeth's company, but it had occurred to him that his missing friend might pass him on the road if he were to leave for London just then. Bingley had only meant to stay in town a few days, and he was quick, if not as thorough as he ought to be, in dispatching business matters.
These few moments out of doors would have to suffice for the day's dose of peace and quiet, Darcy decided as he turned towards the house. Bingley, if not waylaid by his sisters, would soon be back. Considering the strength of Miss Bingley's deductive powers, her brother had every chance of remaining undetected by his relations and returning to Netherfield as planned.
Some elegant apartments near St. James's Square
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"How I wish..." began the young lady, putting away her letters. Her speech drifted off as she stared through the window, though there was nothing occurring outside to draw her attention.
"What is it that you wish?" her companion asked.
"Oh, I did not realise you heard me." Georgiana Darcy turned and smiled at Mrs. Annesley. "I was wishing we might live at my brother's house, or at Pemberley, rather than here."
"Are you displeased with the accommodations? I had thought you liked them."
"I do like them! It is just that I like spending time with Fitzwilliam more." Georgiana blushed. "I know I cannot expect to reside with him in town, and I know we are but a short distance away, but I miss his company."
"He is a very good brother."
"An excellent brother. But we have spent so much time apart." And not always to our benefit, she thought.
"You shall have Christmas together."
"Yes." Georgiana moved away from the window and sat near her companion. Mrs. Annesley was one of the very few people with whom she spoke freely. "Whenever he marries, we will be together more, like a family. I wonder if that will happen soon. I think...that is, I hope...he is considering marriage."
"To a lady you know? If you have merely heard rumours, my dear, I hope you will disregard them and allow your brother to inform you himself of such important news."
"No, I have heard nothing, and I have never met her. It is only a feeling I have." She had been so wrong about such things in her own life that she felt she had no right to speculate about her brother's interests, but she could not suppress her delight at the possibility. "He has written of her more than once," she explained, "and each time he has complimented something..."
"New?" guessed Mrs. Annesley, smiling.
"Yes, but...meaningful, for lack of a better word. He praises her kindness, her wit, her sensible nature. He not only admires her, but he respects her, I think. I have never heard him speak of an eligible young lady in that way before. She sounds like someone he could truly love." She thought it all very romantic but reasonable, just the combination that suited her brother. "If he will allow himself to do it," she mumbled.
"You think he may not?"
"She is a gentleman's daughter, but I doubt she is rich or well connected. I think if she were, he might already have offered for her."
"Ah. Those are things beyond our control."
Georgiana sighed. They were indeed. Mrs. Annesley, for instance, was a lovely, talented lady, and though widowed for some years, certainly young enough to think of marrying again and having her own family; however, she had no fortune with which to tempt a second gentleman to join her in matrimony.
Prudence had its place, but the sort of person one married was of greatest import. Had Mr. Wickham been a different man, a reliable and trustworthy man, Fitzwilliam may not have objected so strongly. That did not bear thinking of, except that she knew now what sort of gentleman to look for at some far-off, future time: one with virtues others could vouch for, with a character at least as handsome as his face.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet appeared, from her brother's report, to have a handsome character, and she hoped Fitzwilliam was fully aware of it.
"Beyond our control," Georgiana repeated, walking back to the window. "Still, I shall hope."
Longbourn, in the afternoon
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"Mama, look! Mr. Bingley is come!"
The girls joined Miss Catherine at the window—all but Miss Bennet, who was detained by her mother. Mrs. Bennet suggested a few impractical and ill-advised alterations to her eldest daughter's dress, which said daughter bore with good grace.
Even Miss Mary seemed determined to get a glimpse of the approaching visitor. Darcy, perhaps due to the rush of relief he felt at Bingley's appearance, decided to indulge a playful impulse he was suppressing with some effort. He caught Miss Mary's eye and mouthed, "Wingley?" She looked confused. He was on the point of flapping his arms—discreetly, of course—but she suddenly looked abashed, and then she smothered a grin.
"It is indeed the elusive Mr. Bingley," Elizabeth remarked, having stepped back from the glass. Had she witnessed his odd moment of light-hearted...well, silliness was what it was, and he would not be surprised if she had. She was looking directly at him.
Darcy went to Elizabeth's side and was happy when she did not move away. She seemed to be warming to the idea that he admired her. He had taken her unawares the evening before, and he carried some blame for the fact that one of her favourite gowns had been splattered with tea, so he was trying to temper his eagerness with caution. He was finding it a challenge.
"Perhaps he will give another ball!" said Miss Catherine.
"Oh, he must!" said Miss Lydia. "I shall ask him again!"
"Do, Lydia!" Miss Catherine pressed her sister as if the child required any encouragement.
"Another ball would be just the thing!" Mrs. Bennet agreed. "Oh!" she suddenly cried, and she rushed from the room, voicing her need to speak to the cook about dinner.
"Lydia," Miss Bennet said as she joined the others at the window, "we must not presume upon Mr. Bingley's hospitality in that way."
"You know he will not refuse, Jane!"
"And you would not want him to!" added Miss Catherine.
Miss Bennet blushed a rosy pink and said not a word.
Miss Elizabeth seemed pleased at the sight. "I fear Lydia will follow through with her intention," she told Darcy. "Poor Mr. Bingley will have his home overrun by his neighbours once more."
Darcy took a step closer to his companion and leant down to speak so that the others would not hear. "And if he does," he said, pretending nonchalance when his lips brushed her ear the tiniest bit. He felt reckless and calculating and exhilarated all at once. "If he does, will you grant me the honour of the first two dances?"
Miss Elizabeth's face began to show a rosy pink blush that threatened to rival that of her elder sister. She nodded, and Darcy smiled with heartfelt delight.
Netherfield, not an hour earlier
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"Caroline?"
Bingley's voice and footsteps echoed round the chilly halls.
The servants were scarce. It had taken an age for someone to greet him, and that someone had not even been the butler. It was as if he had not been expected back any day! In fact, the footman who finally appeared had been surprised to see him and said something about the party's having gone to town. He did not understand it. His sisters despised Meryton. As for their having gone to London, a conclusion supported by the empty corridors, that made even less sense.
"Louisa?"
Bingley peered into one of the parlours. Seeing no one, he quickly moved on.
He took a few steps and was tempted to go back and look into the room again. Had he just seen holland cloth covering two of the chairs? Perhaps in the dim light it had appeared so.
"Hurst?" he called out, climbing the stairs to the family rooms and coming back down again when he heard no movement or other sound.
And where was Darcy? Probably hiding in the library. He tried there without success.
"Darcy?"
That should have been loud enough, Bingley thought. They all should have come running by now.
But they had not.
Bemused, Bingley left the house and went to the stables. Surely Longbourn was not deserted. He could not wait to see Jane Bennet again.
Before riding off, he looked back at Netherfield and shook his head.
Where on earth was everyone?
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