Page 34 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious "Miss B"
“Of course. Hurst, you will excuse us?”
They withdrew to Bingley’s study, where a fire crackled in the grate and brandy waited on a side table. Darcy closed the door with deliberate care whilst his friend poured two glasses.
“You seem rather grave this evening,” Bingley observed, handing him a snifter. “Has something occurred?”
Darcy accepted the brandy but did not drink. “Charles, I fear I must share some information that will distress you.”
“Information? About what?”
“About Miss Bennet.” Darcy watched his friend’s face closely. “I learned today that she is engaged to another man.”
“Engaged?” Bingley’s voice came out strangled. “That cannot be. She has given me every encouragement—”
“To her cousin, Mr James Morton. The betrothal has been decided, though not yet announced.” Darcy’s tone was flat, professional. “I had it from her own relatives this afternoon. They spoke of it as settled fact.”
Bingley sank into the nearest chair, his face pale. “But she… the way she speaks to me, the way she smiles…” he looked up with desperate hope. “Perhaps they are mistaken? Perhaps it is merely speculation?”
“I fear not. Mr and Mrs Phillips were quite clear on the matter.”
“This makes no sense.” Bingley buried his face in his hands. “Why would she encourage my attentions if she were promised to another? Jane is not cruel or calculating—”
“Is she not?” Darcy’s voice carried an edge. “Consider her circumstances, Charles. A family facing financial ruin, five daughters to settle, no male protection. Perhaps she has been weighing her options.”
“You cannot mean to suggest—” Bingley’s head snapped up. “Jane would never behave so mercenarily. I know her character.”
“Do you? You have known her for little more than a week.”
Before Bingley could respond, the study door opened and Caroline swept in, her silk skirts rustling with each step. Behind her came Mr and Mrs Hurst, both looked rather pleased.
“I do hope we are not interrupting,” Caroline said, though her eyes took in Bingley’s stricken expression with obvious interest. “But I could not help overhearing raised voices.”
“This is a private conversation,” Darcy said coldly.
“Oh, but if it concerns the Bennet family, then I fear I must speak.” Caroline settled herself in a chair without invitation. “You see, I have heard the most troubling rumours today.”
“What sort of rumours?” Bingley asked, though he seemed to dread the answer.
“About their financial situation, I am afraid. It appears the family is quite desperate. They have debts mounting, creditors pressing, and the estate in danger of being sold. It is far worse than we thought.” Caroline’s voice carried false sympathy. “Of course, this puts their recent behaviour in rather a different light.”
“Then that aligns with what I learned,” Darcy said and recounted his tale.
“Dreadful,” Mr Hurst said, shaking his head as he stepped to the fireplace that lay empty and void of the usual crackle.
“Which would explain,” Caroline continued with delicate precision, “why Miss Bennet might encourage the attentions of a wealthy gentleman whilst engaged to another. After all, the Bingley fortune far exceeds whatever this Morton fellow might offer.”
“That is enough,” Bingley said, his voice sharp. “I will not hear Miss Bennet’s character maligned based on gossip.”
“Charles, dear brother, you must see reason,” Caroline pressed. “A desperate family might well use their prettiest daughter to ensnare a wealthy man. It is hardly uncommon. And the news did not come from strangers. They came from her own relations. In fact, her young sister Lydia told me herself about their financial troubles.”
“Miss Bennet is not like that,” Bingley insisted, though his conviction seemed to waver.
Mr Hurst leaned forward. “But consider this, has she not been remarkably available to your company? Conveniently injured just when you might have lost interest? And her sister Elizabeth encouraging the attachment at every turn?”
Darcy watched his friend’s face crumble as doubt took hold. “Charles, I know this is painful, but you must consider the evidence objectively.”
“The evidence?” Bingley laughed bitterly. “You mean the fact that she has been kind to me? That she enjoys my conversation? These are crimes now?”
“She has been promised to another man whilst leading you to believe she welcomed your courtship,” Darcy said. “That suggests a calculating nature beneath the gentle exterior.”
