Your servant, sirs.” Bingley swept his beaver from his brow and, nodding once more to the ladies, nudged his mount into a turn back to the street. Recalled to his manners, Darcy did likewise, glimpsing as he did a questioning frown upon Elizabeth’s face.
Bingley’s tone-deaf whistling of a popular love ballad warred with the tumult of Darcy’s emotions and emerged the victor. “You have my attention, Bingley,” he snapped, resolving as he did so to send an immediate express to his sister. “Cease and desist, I beg you!”
“You do not like the ballad, Darcy? It is all the rage, you know.” Bingley smiled imperturbably back at him.
Darcy lifted an imperious brow. “A ballad, you say? I rather feared that you were summoning the local cattle and expect to be inundated by your four-footed admirers at any moment.”
“Darcy! You exaggerate!” Bingley’s charge was met with a snort in a denial of any such tendency. “Well, I have never laid claim to musical talents, at least not in your hearing, but surely a man can be excused for holding forth when under the inspiration of such loveliness as I have just beheld.” Darcy misdoubted that he actually heard Bingley heave a lovelorn sigh. “How fortunate to have met them in the village! We might have missed them entirely.”
“Yes, that is so,” Darcy replied quietly as the fortuitous nature of the encounter broke upon him. He might have first come upon Wickham at a social function in the neighborhood. Forster’s officers seemed to be always about. It was very likely Wickham would be invited along with his fellows to round out a dinner party or liven an assembly. In such restricted society as was to be found in Hertfordshire, they would be continually in each other’s company! Darcy ground his teeth. “Intolerable!”
“What did you say?” Bingley brought his horse up short and turned to stare at his companion.
Darcy stared back uncomprehendingly, then realized that he must have spoken aloud the conclusion of his thoughts. “Charles, I must in all seriousness ask of you a great favor.”
Bingley’s eyes widened at the solemnity of his tone. “Anything within my power, Darcy, anything.”
A brief, reluctant smile creased Darcy’s face at Bingley’s ready agreement; then he took a deep breath. “I ask that you make it clear to Colonel Forster that his newest officer is not welcome at your ball next week.” The surprise and doubt on Bingley’s face caused him to hurry on. “I am fully aware of the position in which this places you and can only offer my deepest apologies for doing so. An explanation I cannot give, save to tell you that my acquaintance with Lieutenant Wickham is of long standing, his father, before his death, having been steward to mine, and that he has repaid my family’s generosity in a monstrous fashion which will forever stand between us.”
“Good heavens, Darcy! Can Forster know he has acquired such a scoundrel for an officer?”
“Doubtless he will in time. Wickham has never failed to reveal his true colors eventually, but his manner is so plausible, his ability to insinuate himself so uncanny, that the damage he means to inflict is done before his victim knows it.” Bingley’s gathered brows and shocked silence told Darcy that his purpose was answered. “You must, of course, do as you see fit concerning Wickham in all other respects. It is only for this ball that I ask your indulgence in fixing your guest list. If you must include him or suffer his company at a public function, do not think of me. I shall not be missed, I am convinced.” He looked aside, remembering the frown on Elizabeth’s face.
“Not be missed? Rubbish! The man shall not cross my threshold, I promise you.”
“Thank you,” Darcy replied simply, but his words seemed to cause Bingley an unwarranted degree of pleasure. “Bingley?”
“Oh, nothing! It is just so seldom that I can do
Darcy almost smiled. “Perhaps I should allow you more opportunity, then, as it pleases you so.”
“Perhaps you should!” agreed Bingley, enough sincerity behind his laughing reply to give Darcy something else to think upon as they directed their horses down Netherfield’s drive.
The leaden feelings of apprehension that had plagued Darcy upon discovering Wickham in the shire were little relieved by Bingley’s assurances that “the man” would never be admitted to Netherfield. His past relations with Wickham militated against such complacency; he dared not rest until he had confirmed to himself that Georgiana was not, indeed, involved in some way with the man’s appearance in Hertfordshire. Therefore, immediately after dinner that evening, Darcy excused himself from the entertainments Miss Bingley had planned and withdrew to the writing desk in the drawing room. Drawing out a sheet of paper and finding the quill well pared, he dipped it into the inkwell and put it to paper.
He paused then, and found himself at a complete loss.
Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were deep in the pages of
A rap at the door and the entrance of Stevenson, silver tray in hand, brought all activity to a halt. The tray, supporting a single letter, passed under breathless scrutiny until it was presented to Darcy. Recognizing the hand that wrote its direction, he swiftly took possession of the post and secured it in his coat pocket.
“A letter, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley’s query betrayed the power of a rampant curiosity.
“A letter, yes, Miss Bingley.” Darcy rose and bowed to his hostess and host. “If you will excuse me. No, don’t get up, I beg you,” he tossed to Bingley, who had begun to struggle out of his chair. In a few long strides he was out of the room and into the hall to the library. Shutting the door of that welcome sanctuary firmly behind him, he went to the hearth, stirred up the coals to a soft glow, and dropped into one of the chairs drawn close to catch the feeble warmth. With fumbling, nerveless fingers, he lit a nearby lamp and withdrew the letter from his pocket.
It lay there in his hands, and on his life, he could not find the will to loosen the seal. Turning it over several times, he read its direction again: “Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Netherfield Hall, Meryton, Hertfordshire,” in the unmistakable hand of his beloved sister. What should he find within?
