Page 23 of Unwillingly Mrs. Darcy
Darcy
Darcy entered the elegantly appointed parlour of Bingley’s London residence. He had spent the better part of the morning in his solicitor’s office, reviewing the final legal documents to secure Elizabeth Bennet’s future and her family’s financial stability. The satisfaction that came from knowing these measures were in place steadied him as he navigated the city’s busy streets.
The wedding was just over a week away, and every step taken to prepare for it had strengthened his resolve. The responsibility he would shoulder as Elizabeth’s husband was no burden to him—it was a privilege, one he would earn through unwavering devotion and concrete actions.
As Darcy handed his coat to Bingley’s butler, the man himself emerged from the adjoining room, all easy energy and good humour.
“Darcy!” Bingley exclaimed, his face breaking into a wide grin. “I had almost given up on your arrival. Were the affairs of the day as tedious as ever?”
“They were necessary,” Darcy replied, allowing himself a rare smile. “Matters with my solicitor required some final attention.”
“Well, never mind that now,” Bingley said, waving him into the parlour. “Come in, man, and make yourself comfortable. There is claret, if you like. And you have the look of someoneabout to deliver good news. Tell me, have you been lured into buying another estate? Or perhaps some other business venture? You do enjoy keeping me in suspense.”
Darcy settled into a leather armchair near the fire, accepting a glass of claret. “Nothing of the sort, I assure you. My news concerns a personal matter.”
Bingley arched an intrigued eyebrow. “A personal matter? That can only mean one thing. Well, Darcy, out with it.”
Darcy took a deliberate sip from his glass before answering. “I am to be married.”
For a moment, Bingley simply stared, uncharacteristically speechless. Then, he broke into a broad smile. “Married? Have you decided to give in to your aunt’s demands? You cannot mean it!”
“Not my cousin, no. It is another lady I’ve chosen to make my wife. My uncle made it clear the only way I could escape this situation would be to marry another. And so I am.”
“Who is the fortunate lady?”
Darcy’s voice softened slightly as he replied, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” Bingley’s grin widened further. “Well, I daresay that is the best news I’ve heard all year! But Darcy, I am astonished—and delighted, of course. How did you manage to overcome… well, all that once stood between you?”
“It has been a rather winding road, and it is not a wedding of love,” he said. “I felt dreadful over my interference regarding your courtship with Jane Bennet, and I do not think she hasforgiven me yet… Anyhow, it seemed the best solution. I am free of this imposed union with Anne, and she will have my wealth at her disposal to help care for her family,” Darcy replied, with a small but genuine smile on his lips.
“Well, whatever the reason for your union, I am glad. She is a most remarkable woman—spirited, clever, all that is fitting for a man like you. Darcy, you truly have reason to be proud. But tell me, when is the wedding?”
“Just over a week from now,” Darcy said, setting his glass down on the table before him. “Which brings me to why I am here. I can think of no one better suited to be my best man.”
“Of course!” Bingley exclaimed, his face lighting up with genuine pleasure. “It would be my greatest honour.” His excitement tempered slightly as he leaned back in his chair, gazing into his glass. “And… might I ask, how is her family?”
“They are well,” Darcy replied evenly, though his knowing glance betrayed an understanding of the real question.
Bingley hesitated, his genial demeanour giving way to something more tentative. “And… Miss Bennet? Have you seen her?”
“Yes, on several occasions,” Darcy said. “She is in good spirits. I believe the prospect of Elizabeth’s marriage has eased some of her family’s difficulties.”
Bingley’s grip tightened on his glass. “Do you think she…” He paused, then tried again. “Do you think she might forgive me—for leaving as I did? For the manner of it?”
Darcy’s gaze softened. “Miss Bennet is kind-hearted. I believe there is every chance for forgiveness. But you must speakto her yourself, Bingley. If you do nothing, she will have no cause to reconsider.”
Bingley sighed, nodding slowly. “You are correct, of course. I only hope I have not irreparably damaged her opinion of me.”
Darcy’s reply was firm but encouraging. “Her esteem is not beyond reclaiming. The rest depends on you.”
The two men sat in companionable silence for a moment before the conversation turned towards the upcoming wedding. When Bingley asked whether Darcy’s family would attend, Darcy’s expression darkened.
“I doubt any of them will come,” he said flatly.
“Not even Georgiana?” Bingley asked, a flicker of concern in his tone.
“She will be in attendance, but she is the only one. As for the rest, none will come. Lady Catherine has exerted every effort to dissuade the rest of the family. Nobody wishes to stand between her and me, including members of the Darcy family,” Darcy admitted. He withdrew a folded letter from his coat and handed it to Bingley. “My uncle, Lord Matlock, has made his position clear as well. This arrived this morning,” he said and waved the letter.
