After the meal they retired to the library. Once they were comfortably seated, the butler brought in a tray holding five crystal snifters each holding a generous serving of the oldest spirit in France. "Gentlemen, "Darcy said, raising his glass high, "I give you Armagnac Cames."
There was a dead silence until it was broken by a groan from Richard. "If this is a joke, Darcy, I'll skin you alive."
Guy Waltham gazed at the liquid in awe. "How on earth did you get your hands on this, Darcy?"
Josh Smith spoke up. "It must have cost a fortune."
Bingley looked on in confusion.
Darcy said, "Bingley, just swirl the liquid around gently then wait a couple of seconds, then put your nose to the rim and smell it. Then take a tiny sip and swirl it around in your mouth. There is such a variety of flavors to smell and taste. It's absolute ambrosia."
Bingley did as he was told and a look of utter surprise crossed his face. "Vanilla, Apricot?"
Richard took a sip and pronounced, "Butterscotch?"
Josh was sure it had the taste of baked apples.
Guy could smell violets.
Whatever, they decided that one glass would not be enough of a sample to determine just what Armagnac Cames tasted like.
When they finally called it a night, they were in great spirits and pronounced they they had never had so much fun. It would be a week to remember.
The next afternoon, Richard left for Newcastle, while Guy headed back to Shropshire. Josh was planning one quick visit to York, then a return to Cambridge. Unknown to each, their luggage contained a bottle of Armagnac with a short note from Darcy wishing them a happy Christmas.
With Guy and Josh and especially his cousin Richard gone, the house seemed like a tomb, it was so quite. "What a week," Bingley groaned. "I'm exhausted. I'm almost glad it's over. I'm going to need a week to recover."
"You won't have that luxury, Bingley. You haven't forgotten what tomorrow is, have you?"
"You mean my birthday?"
Darcy was shocked. "I didn't know. Well, this will be a memorable birthday for you. You sign the papers tomorrow."
Bingley slapped his head, then groaned in pain. "How could I have forgotten that?"
Darcy laughed, "It's a wonder you didn't forget your name with all the alcohol we consumed. We had fun but now it's time to get back to real life. Tomorrow you become nineteen years of age and the owner of a beautiful London townhouse. Then, you will work up the courage to present the keys to your sister, Miss Caroline. I will be your second, carrying a sharpened sword to defend you in your hour of need."
Despite his hangover, Bingley laughed at the picture Darcy presented.
Three days later the two men stood on the doorstep of the Hurst townhouse, one in trepidation, the other in resignation. "Just remember, Charles, you are now the head of your family. You will brook no disrespect from your sister. You have the right to cut off her allowance. You also have the right to bar her from your house."
Bingley nodded.
"Are you listening to me, Charles?"
"I'm going to faint."
"You are not going to faint. I Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley who owns all of Derbyshire and half of London will not permit it."
Bingley took a deep breath and with trembling hand reached out and rang the bell.
They were announced and ushered into a nice sized drawing room and Darcy got his first look at Bingley's family.
Mr. Hurst was lying in lopsided fashion on a settee. A woman of plain features sat on a sofa absently playing with her bracelets. On the far side of the room a tall angular woman had turned from the window to fasten her eyes on her brother. That she was annoyed was patently clear but as her eyes moved to her brother's companion her eyes widened in shock and confusion.
Darcy watched in growing amusement as her eyes darted back to her brother trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Darcy saw the moment she pulled herself together and stood straighter and advanced towards them with a smile of welcome. "My dearest brother, how good to see you again." She immediately turned to Darcy and held out her hand which Darcy took and bowed over before releasing it quickly.
Caroline turned and spat at her sister, "Louisa!"
Louisa Hurst jumped and prodded her husband awake. Hurst woke up muttering something unintelligible.
After a moment, Bingley made his feet move and he advanced towards his eldest sister and handed her a small box containing the charm bracelet. She opened it quickly and was genuinely delighted with the gift. She stood and kissed her brother's cheek. "Thank you so much, Charles. It's delightful. I love it."
Bingley smiled with affection, then handed Hurst a fine bottle of Cognac. "Merry Christmas, Humphrey, and try not to drink it all at once."
"Delightful, Charles, thank you."
Bingley turned and faced Caroline. "I...I have saved the best for last." He stepped towards her and fumbled in his vest pocket and retrieved a set of keys. He handed them to her, "Merry Christmas, Caroline."
"What's this?" she asked with narrowed eyes.
Bingley attempted a smile, "those are the keys to... to my home. I'm asking you to live there with me and assume the duties of hostess. That is...if you want to."
Caroline's face had turned white and her lips had tightened into a thin line. Darcy took a step towards the brother and sister "and a lovely house it is," he said.
Caroline tore her eyes from her brother's face and stared at Darcy.
"It was formerly owned by some dear friends of mine," Darcy continued, with a pleasant smile, "and just around the corner from my own home."
Caroline's eyes widened as she grasped the significance of what Fitzwilliam Darcy was saying. She blinked and turned to her brother. "Oh Charles," she cried. "What a wonderful brother you are." She allowed Bingley to kiss her cheek before turning back to Darcy. "Oh, Mr. Darcy, how can I ever repay you for the kindness you have bestowed upon my brother. But how came you to offer him assistance in such an important manner? My brother isn't known for making friends with gentlemen. He will chat with the lowest sorts of people though I've tried to improve his manners, truly I have." She adopted a coy smile and actually fluttered her eyelashes in the ton's acceptable form of flirtation.
"Well," Darcy responded showing his dimples, "he also chats with gentlemen. My cousin Fitzwilliam, the son of the Earl of Matlock, thinks your brother the best of men and is very grateful that he allows me to share rooms with him at Cambridge."
Caroline gasped and Darcy heard Hurst chuckle. Darcy stifled the urge to laugh out loud at the absurdity of this whole scene, though he had to admit he was actually enjoying this charade.
"Well, Bingley," he said at last, "I'll leave you safe in the bosom of your family. I'm sure you'll be busy moving your things into the master bedroom at the Bakewell residence, or should I say, the Bingley residence. My carriage will pick you up at eight in the morning three days hence for our trip back to Cambridge. And of course if you need any help in the meantime, I am at your disposal."
"Oh Mr. Darcy," cried Caroline, "what must you think of our manners? Of course, you must stay for tea."
"Thank you, Miss Bingley, but I have several appointments I must keep."
With these final words, he bowed to the Hursts who were eying him with some amusement. He bowed to Miss Caroline who didn't attempt to hide her disappointment.
He dared a wink in Bingley's direction then turned on his heel and left the room grinning broadly.
To Darcy's surprise Bingley arrived at his townhouse early on Friday morning. "I slept in my new home last night. This way you won't have to stop at the Hurst's."
Darcy smiled knowingly. Translation: Now you won't run into Caroline. "Thank you. This will save considerable time."
"By the way, if you ever go bankrupt, you can always go on the stage."
Darcy grinned. "Thank you. I must say that I enjoyed the experience."
"And I must say that I was surprised at Hurst's reaction. He told me later that the minute I handed the keys to Caroline he expected her to go into a rage for not consulting her on such an important decision. He was making to leave the room when he saw you take two steps towards us. He sat down again to watch the show. He was quite impressed. It was actually his idea that you go on the stage."
"And what was Mrs. Hurst's reaction?"
"Louisa seemed to be more interested in the view outside. I must say, I've never seen her smile so brightly at the flowers in the garden."
The ride to Cambridge went without incident; three weeks of good weather had dried the roads and workers had smoothed out most of the ruts that could be so painful and dangerous to the traveler.
Back at school they fell into the tried and proved rhythm of study and the weeks began to fly by.
In April Darcy received a letter from his father saying that their steward, Mr. Wickham, had died quietly in his sleep. Darcy was saddened by the news. Old Mr. Wickham had been a kindly and trustworthy man who had been respected by both the master of Pemberley and his son. Darcy knew that no apothecary had been able to dull his pain and for his sake was glad that the ordeal was over. Darcy immediately went to the church and lit a candle for the repose of his soul. He hoped fervently that the old man was again at peace.
Six short weeks later Darcy graduated with high honors and Bingley finished his first year studies in the top twenty percent of his class. They spent a quiet evening supping down at the square and finished with their usual ritual of brandy and conversation.
"So what are your plans for the summer, Bingley? I suppose you'll follow every blond beauty and fall in love every other week."
"That sounds like a plan, Darcy."
Darcy shook his head. "Incorrigible!"
The following night they spent a couple of hours at the QR saying goodbye to old friends. With Darcy leaving, Joshua happily anticipated rooming with Bingley during his final year and Darcy was pleased that Bingley would have such an amiable roommate for his second year of study.
In the morning Darcy took one long last look at the rooms which had been his home away from home these past four years then briskly left the room and descended the stairs never looking back.
Darcy and Bingley arrived safely in London that afternoon. Bingley had his trunks delivered to his home and entered Darcy's townhouse for a final goodbye. The butler handed Darcy a letter which had arrived a few minutes before.
Darcy directed Bingley to the library while he opened and read the letter. Moments later he joined Bingley and poured them both a small glass of wine. Darcy raised his glass, "I wish you God speed in all your endeavors, Charles. And don't forget to take that penmanship class. If you get Donne for English Literature next year he'll dock you a full grade if he can't read your coded blots."
"I promise." Bingley drained his glass and set it on the table. "Well, I'd better get going before Caroline comes looking for me."
Darcy saw Bingley to the front steps where he wished his good friend all the best. He watched Bingley until he was out of sight then hurried back into the house calling loudly for his valet. "Pack my bags, Thomas,"he cried, "we leave at first light."
Darcy hurried back to the library and locked the door behind him. He poured a stiff drink of scotch and dropped into his chair. There was no need to re-read the letter from Richard. It was short and succinct. 'Your father passed away last night. Hurry home. Georgianna needs you'.