Page 40 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
Mr. Darcy addressed Elizabeth. “You want Bingley that badly? Or do you just wish to hurt him since he jilted you?”
“Is he engaged to your sister?” said Elizabeth.
Mr. Darcy sighed. Oh, so Caroline had discerned that somehow? Or Bingley had spoken to her about it? There was, of course, no official agreement, but he did sometimes think that it would be the best arrangement for everyone, since there was a precariousness to Georgiana’s reputation at that point. He trusted Bingley, and he thought it was sort of tidy and easy.
He wanted Georgiana to have a choice, of course, but if that choice was taken from her, Bingley was better than the alternative.
“He is not,” said Caroline firmly. “He will not tie himself to a girl who’s been sullied by the son of a servant. I won’t allow him to do it, and if I give out the information that I have—”
“If,” he said. “There’s a chance you’ll keep quiet?” Whatdid she want? Whatever could this woman want from him?
Caroline only laughed. She linked her arm with Elizabeth, laughed in his face, and said, “Come, Eliza, let us seek out something to drink.” Then she pulled Elizabeth away, into the crowd.
Mr. Darcy clenched his hands into fists.
Then, he sought out Bingley.
But Bingley’s reaction to Miss Bennet’s name was to go still and silent and gaze off into space.
“Bingley,” said Mr. Darcy. “Bingley, can you hear me? Charles, your sisterknowsabout Georgiana.”
Mr. Bingley walked off without a word, however, and Mr. Darcy had no choice but to follow him as he searched through the rooms for her.
When Mr. Bingley saw Elizabeth and Caroline, in the tearoom, sitting together at a small table, he stopped and stared.
“Charles,” said Mr. Darcy, standing behind his friend. “Your sister—”
“She’s prettier than she used to be,” said Bingley.
Mr. Darcy didn’t say anything.
“You think she’s pretty?” Bingley turned to look at him, a challenge across his features.
Mr. Darcy stared at Elizabeth. “Obviously.” She was more than pretty, that was the truth of it. She was compellingly attractive. She was a siren, and he was going to stare at her while his ship was dashed against the rocks, dashed to smithereens, and while he drowned.
“What is she doing here?” said Bingley.
“She’s here because she is in communication with Wickham,” said Mr. Darcy. “She has the story from him, and she has come—”
“That seems convoluted,” said Bingley. “I imagine she’s here because of me.”
Mr. Darcy bowed his head. He really couldn’t argue with that.
“I gave her up,” said Bingley. “But she came after me.” He let out a wistful sigh.
“Bingley, your sister is set upon destroying me andmysister,” said Mr. Darcy. “I don’t know if you haven’t heard this part of it or if you’re just ignoring it.”
“I shall handle Caroline,” said Bingley, and then he strode over to the table.
Elizabeth looked up at him and a smile stretched across her features that made her shine like a beacon of bright beauty.
Mr. Darcy’s heart stuttered in his chest. Why was she so especially lovely?
Mr. Bingley was smiling back at her, and they conversed back and forth for a few minutes before he offered her his arm, and she got up and took it, and they strolled out of the tea room together.
Mr. Darcy approached the table where Caroline was seated, smiling a wicked smile of triumph.
He thought again of hitting her.
