Bingley rode his black stallion the last leg of the long distance to Pemberley at mid-morning on the fifth of May. There was only so much time he could spend sitting idly in a carriage, and the previous two days were quite enough.
The remainder of his time in London had gone much as he expected, and he was happy to get away. There were many pretty women who caught his eye but could not retain his interest for more than half an hour. Many simply wanted information about the Darcys, their courtship, marriage and expected child. Some had the nerve to speculate that they had actually returned to Pemberley because the child was to be born less than nine months from the time of their wedding, rather than a death in the family, and the Matlocks were aggressively working to quell those ridiculous rumours. Everyone had seen Elizabeth in January with a flat stomach but that fact was conveniently forgotten by some. As welcoming as the society had been in Mrs Darcy's presence, it was still a society that thrived on gossip and scandal, and Bingley felt disgusted by this new evidence of that truth.
Having visited his friend's home several times before, he was quite comfortable seeing himself directly to the stable instead of expecting anyone to meet him at the front. He nudged his horse to the side path that would lead in that direction a half mile from the great manor.
As he rounded a corner he was confronted with the most enchanting sight.
A woman was galloping on her horse across a nearby field. Her long blonde hair was tied in a knot, but strands were coming loose in the wind and trailing behind her. She was riding astride - an unusual sight, but given the privacy of this part of the property she had no reason to suspect she would be seen. Her figure and posture were perfect. He could not see her face, but her energy and joy were radiating from her with every fluid movement. She and her horse moved in perfect harmony and communication: this was by no means an unusual activity for her. She may have been the finest horsewoman he had ever seen.
He did not know when he had stopped his horse, but he sat, transfixed, and watched as she galloped one more lap around the perimeter of the field and gradually slowed as she approached in his direction. For a moment he thought she was coming to him, as if she had felt his heart reaching out to her and was answering its call. Then he remembered he was next to the stable where she doubtless was returning after completing her exercise.
With this realisation the moment was over - how many minutes had he been there, anyway? - and he shook himself out of his stupor. Who was she? Would she be embarrassed at finding she was being watched? Should he act as though he had only just arrived?
It was too late to decide what to do: she was before him, quite close before she even noticed him. She started in surprise and looked around, noticing he was alone.
Jane was partaking of what had become her daily exercise. She had always been fond of riding when she was at Longbourn, but did not have as much opportunity as she wished due to sharing one old mare with all her family, and then no chance at all while ensconced at Hunsford. Now that she lived at Pemberley she was given her own horse, a beautiful white gelding named Spirit for the lively way it moved, and she made good use of the privilege. Her morning rides were her opportunity to be alone, to clear her head and exercise her body. She reveled in the short time she could forget her cares and simply feel connected to nature. When she was riding she felt free.
Feeling Spirit slow slightly in weariness she knew it was time to return to the house. She finished the lap, slowing further to cool down, and made for the stable. She wondered what William was doing, whether eating or sleeping or playing. She felt hungry and wondered what time it was, how long she had been out here. It seemed as though it had been a particularly long ride.
Suddenly she saw him. Atop his own large horse was a man she had never met before, but one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. As fine as her brother Fitzwilliam but as different in features from him as she was from Elizabeth, and much more suited to her taste with his wind-blown red-blond hair, blue eyes, and open countenance.
All at once she remembered herself and flushed in embarrassment. She was astride her horse in a most unladylike manner, her face was red and sweaty from exertion, and her hair was in disarray. She did not know him, yet he was alone on Pemberley's property and now she was alone with him.
Her own words to her sister the previous April, after her first time meeting Mr Darcy, floated back to her: What I would not give for someone to look at me as he looked at you when he entered this room. It seemed as though this handsome stranger was doing exactly that despite her wild appearance. It was a look of amazement and admiration and happiness all in one. It was exhilarating.
He found his wits and jumped off his horse to bow. "I am Charles Bingley. I apologise for surprising you; I know I am a little earlier than expected."
"Oh," she replied. Of course it was Mr Bingley. She had been so distracted by his sudden appearance she had not recalled the date.
He moved towards her. "May I assist you from your horse?" he asked, while reaching his hand to hers.
She did not know what to say. She felt stupid. She took his hand and allowed him to help her down.
He smiled gently down at her. "I assume you are Mrs Collins?"
"Yes, forgive me - I am Mrs Collins." She gave an awkward curtsy, blushing anew. "Please excuse my appearance," she added as she brushed her tangled hair from her face self-consciously.
"It is nothing; I am certain I look the same after riding for three hours," he smiled. He thought she was the most beautiful woman alive exactly as she was. "May I escort you to the house?"
"Yes, I thank you," she said as she smiled back. He took both horses by the reins and walked them the short distance to the stable. After speaking a few words of instruction to the boy who took the animals he returned to where Jane stood. They began to walk side by side.
"I have heard of you from the Darcys and your mother," he said. "I offer you my condolences on the tragic passing of your husband."
"Thank you," she said solemnly. "I am grateful I have my healthy son still with me."
"Will you tell me about him? I believe he was born last autumn?" Bingley was pleased with himself for remembering so much to enable conversation.
They talked their entire walk. She told him about William, and he told her about his sisters, one of whom had lately married and the other finally expecting a child after three years of marriage.
"My sister Mary is expecting her first as well, and of course you know Lizzy is in her seventh month," she said.
They reached the house with some reluctance on both sides. Upon entry Jane inquired of the butler as to the location of the three Darcys, who it turned out were all gathered in the morning parlour. As they continued in that direction Bingley admired the gentle way she spoke with the servants, the dignity with which she carried her mourning, and her composure when he was certain she must have still felt uncomfortable.
For her part, Jane was pleased with the speed at which he had put her at ease. Her earlier embarrassment must have been obvious but he did not draw it out, instead distracting her by talking. Having a quieter disposition herself she liked people who had the skill of leading conversations and she quite accidentally revealed more personal details about herself than she ordinarily would with a new acquaintance.
They reached the rest of the family. Darcy raised an eyebrow at their entering together while Elizabeth immediately greeted their guest and rang for refreshments.
"Forgive my early intrusion; my carriage should arrive within the hour with my trunks and valet, so you must tolerate my dishevelment for now," Bingley said cheerfully.
"Not to worry," Darcy said and clapped his friend's back. "I see introductions to my sister are not necessary."
Now that she had seen Bingley to his hosts Jane excused herself to clean up. When she returned a half hour later she heard Darcy laugh heartily at some remark the other man had made. She had never seen anyone other than Elizabeth make him laugh like that, confirming her impression of Mr Bingley as a man who easily increased people's comfort and cheer.
She looked forward to getting to know him during his stay.
#
That night, Darcy and Elizabeth climbed into bed and he lightly wrapped his arm around her rapidly growing middle.
"What were you and Mr Bingley discussing for so long after dinner?" she asked.
"Oh, you know. Man things," he replied. "And what of the ladies?"
"Woman things," she retorted with a chuckle. "I suppose I can forgive you for dawdling with him. You have had only female company for some months now."
"I do not mind the company of my three favourite women," he said with a small kiss. "I confess Jane was a bit mysterious to me when I first knew her, because she does not show her thoughts and feelings openly like you. But now I am learning to read her. I believe she may be rather interested in Bingley."
"I think so too," Elizabeth whispered excitedly. "Fitzwilliam, I know she will be in mourning for many more months, but I wonder if we have accidentally brought something about here!"
"We will see." Darcy frowned. "I have seen him in love many times. I will not have her be hurt. You recall how he was when we were all in Hertfordshire together."
"I also recall there has been no young lady since then," Elizabeth replied; "and did you see them talking together tonight after you finally joined us? When was the last time Jane spoke so much? With Olivia he did all the talking, and with Jane he does all the listening."
He paused for a moment's consideration. "You are correct. Perhaps he has matured in his dealings with women. I now remember him telling me last year he was focusing on learning a woman's character; he could be holding firm in his resolution."
"And if you are concerned about his constancy, he came at the perfect time. Nothing can happen before next year."
"That is true. Well, we should not be hasty now either way. They have known each other only one day."
"Oh dear, are we turning into my mother? Was it an inevitability now that we are to be parents?"
Darcy laughed. "Heaven forbid."
He stroked her stomach gently. He could feel where the babe was protruding - a foot, he thought it might be. "How do you feel, dearest? Only two more months."
"It is becoming rather uncomfortable at times, but I am quite well right now," she said.
"Have I thanked you for carrying this child for us?" He kissed her forehead, temple, and cheek.
"Not since yesterday. I am beginning to feel quite taken for granted."
He returned the smirk she was giving him. "Please allow me to make it up to you, my love."
He snuffed the candle and pulled her close, kissing her deeply.