Elizabeth badgered Jane for more details of her encounter with Bingley right up until the moment she was stepping out the front door of their flat in order to make her way to work. Normally reserved as Jane might be, Elizabeth usually had a knack for getting her older sister to open up and share more than she might have intended.
Not so with this business with Bingley. Jane had remained tight-lipped, giving away very little and evading most of Elizabeth's questions with pointed remarks about the time and about how Lizzie wouldn't want to miss the coach.
"Tell me this much," Elizabeth had demanded, pulling on her coat and searching for her keys all at the same time. Then, pausing long enough to put her hands on her hips and level a searching gaze at Jane, she had asked, "Did he at least tell you why he had broken things off with you before?"
Jane sighed. "Yes."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "And that was?"
"Lizzie, please. You don't have time for this."
"You can't hold out on me forever," Elizabeth muttered.
"I'll tell you everything I can once I've had time to think about it," Jane hurried to say. "But, Lizzie, I don't want to betray something that might be a confidence."
"A confidence?" Elizabeth's eyes narrowed still further. "Does this involve someone else?"
Jane's eyes slid guiltily away.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Elizabeth demanded. "It was something to do with Darcy, wasn't it?"
"Not directly," Jane defended, watching in resignation as her sister's face flushed an angry red.
"I knew it! I just knew that he must have said something or done something. I bet he decided to meddle in Bingley's life and told him to break up with you." Elizabeth was moving almost violently now as she pushed aside cushions and opened drawers in her hunt for her keys.
"You don't know that," Jane said. "I don't even know what his involvement was."
Elizabeth tossed a hot glance over her shoulder. "I can't believe you're defending him!"
"I'm not defending him," Jane asserted quietly. "I'm merely pointing out that you don't have any idea of the details and it's not fair for you to assume the worst."
"Perhaps not," Elizabeth conceded. "But if he was involved, I can't see that he could have been anything other than high handed. It's just how he is. 'Oh, I don't want her working here in my offices. She's too common. Find her something else to do.' And, 'I just appeared at your workplace for no apparent reason and detained you - also for no apparent reason - and I will see you home no matter what you think about it.'"
"I thought you said he seemed actually rather sweet that night."
Elizabeth made a scoffing noise. "That's what you said. I said I was surprised at his manner. Anyway, he was sick," she finished, as though that explained anything.
"There they are!" she exclaimed in the next moment, seizing her keys triumphantly. Whirling, she headed towards the door, passing Jane as she left and giving her hand an affectionate squeeze. "I'll see you tomorrow. You can tell me everything then and we can start working out how to handle this family dinner."
Darcy was uncomfortable. He had been sitting in the back of his automobile outside of Bingley's place for the better part of a quarter hour and still had not quite managed to convince himself to carry through with the plan that had brought him to his friend's residence.
"It's just dinner," he muttered, exasperated with his own sudden onset of nerves.
But the crux of the matter was precisely that it wasn't just dinner. Darcy still was not certain how Bingley felt towards him or whether their friendship was still intact after the revelations of their last lunch. It was true that everything had seemed to end on a good note between them, but there was something nagging at the back of Darcy's mind and it troubled him.
He felt almost guilty, though he could not begin to logically reason out why he might be experiencing that particular emotion. Whatever he might have said while he was ill, he couldn't have intended to sow the seeds of doubt into Bingley's mind. Honestly, Bingley had no one but himself to blame for the precipitous action he had undertaken with regard to Miss Marchrend.
Putting all of that aside, even if Darcy had been at fault for something, a simple apology would have been all that would be needed to smooth things over. Bingley was hardly the type to carry a grudge and since Darcy hadn't committed any grievances, it should be a simple matter to walk up to the door and invite the other man to join him for dinner.
Feeling a measure of resolve, Darcy at last moved to open the door and step out of the automobile, walking with purposeful strides to rap firmly on the front door of Bingley's house.
To his alarm and dismay, it was Caroline who answered the summons, almost immediately. It was true that she could have merely been walking by and happened to be the closest person to the door, but the expression of surprise on her face seemed altogether false.
Of course, he had been sitting out in front of the house for some time. It was not outside the realm of possibility that she had noticed his automobile and then purposefully planted herself near the door and shooed away the servants in order to be the person to greet him.
"Why, Mr. Darcy," she cooed in a voice as sickly sweet as the overwhelming perfume she favored. "What a surprise to see you here. Do come in."
She swung the door wider, but not so wide that he wouldn't be able to avoid brushing up against her as he passed. With an inward sigh, Darcy turned nearly sideways to squeeze himself through the narrow opening, scraping against the door frame as he did so.
"Is your brother here?" he inquired, retreating into the stiff formality that governed all his interactions with the clingy Miss Bingley.
"Why, yes," she replied, affecting bemusement, as if taken aback that his purpose in coming hadn't been to see her. "We were just about to sit down to supper. Would you care to join us?"
"Ah. Perhaps not. I have no wish to disturb-"
"Nonsense," Caroline interrupted, laughing as though he had just told her a particularly witty joke. "It is just a quiet family supper. There could be no disturbance."
The implications of that were all too clear. Having no wish to encourage the infernal woman further, Darcy again tried to politely extricate himself. "Thank you, but I will-"
He was interrupted again, this time by Bingley, who strode into the hallway and greeted him with a cheery exclamation of surprise.
"Darcy! What brings you here?" Bingley crossed from the stairs to greet his friend with a hearty handshake. "We're just about to dine," he continued, not giving the other man a chance to answer this question. "Join us, won't you?"
Relieved at having received a typically effusive welcome from Bingley, Darcy gave his assent to the meal, barely managing to hold back a grimace as Miss Bingley possessively wound her arm through his, batting her lashes up at him and spouting some nonsense about how nice it was to be escorted to dinner.
Her presence at the table made it impossible for either man to speak about the matters that were at the forefront of their minds, though Bingley did let it slip that he was to dine with the Bennet family the next evening. It was the biggest mistake he might have been able to make even if he had been actively trying to sabotage his own sanity and future happiness.
Miss Bingley's head whipped around so quickly once the words had fallen from her brother's lips, that Darcy could not begin to guess how she hadn't sustained a paralyzing injury in the process.
"I had thought you were quite over Jane," Miss Bingley attempted to sound cooly disinterested, but her tone was too cold and brittle to carry off the proper effect.
Catching Bingley's eye, Darcy winced dramatically before giving what he hoped was a suitably sympathetic smile.
Bingley himself looked a bit ashen, as though he had only just realized how his sister would immediately react to this information and as if he was even now guessing at what she might do in the near future. Still, he cleared his throat and made a manful attempt to dissuade Caroline from making any of the cutting remarks that were so obviously waiting just on the tip of her tongue.
"You are mistaken, Caroline. I feel very deeply for Miss Marchrend and have every intention of pursuing my relationship with her."
Miss Bingley's already patently false smile widened until it became closer to a grimace. "Indeed? Pray tell, when am I to wish you joy, Brother?"
"I know not," Bingley responded evenly, his voice as serious as Darcy had ever heard it. "But you may depend upon my telling you as soon as I have secured her hand."
Miss Bingley had the misfortune of having taken a sip of wine as she allowed her brother to answer what she had clearly intended as a sarcastic question. As such, when Bingley replied to her so earnestly and in such direct opposition to what she would have wished to hear, she choked in surprise and began coughing.
Darcy watched, feeling the strangest mixture of amusement and sympathy, but other than tossing a brief look of concern at Caroline, he made no move to help her. Bingley did not react either, other than to ostentatiously take a sip of his own wine and ask casually, "Are you well, Caro?"
Gasping and red faced, when she had finally mastered herself and regained her voice, Caroline shot her brother a furious look before responding stiffly. "Yes. I am quite well, thank you." After a calculated pause, she continued. "Although, it occurs to me that I have not had nearly enough opportunity to get to know the woman who is apparently destined to become my sister. Really, Charles, how very bad of you! You must rectify this sorry state of affairs immediately. I insist!"
Darcy saw the trap and tried in vain to insert himself into the conversation. However, he got no further than saying, "I think-" before Bingley, oblivious to what was coming next, cheerfully seized on what appeared to be capitulation from Caroline's quarter.
"I daresay we can arrange that, Caro. I am glad to see you taking an interest!"
The look on Miss Bingley's face was one of triumph. In a gloating tone of voice, she said smoothly, "Oh yes! Indeed, I see no reason for any delay. You say you're going to dine with the whole family tomorrow-night? It seems a perfect opportunity for me to have the opportunity to meet all my new family!"
Feeling rather like a spectator at a sporting event, Darcy turned his head to see Bingley's expression falter from pleased insouciance to openly appalled disbelief.
"Caroline, really, I c-cannot have you along tomorrow." Bingley was nearly stammering his words.
"Oh, but I insist!" Miss Bingley had schooled her features into a mask of fawning excitement. "How could anything be better than this? I'm certain it's not everyday that an opportunity like this should come along."
"I believe this will be your brother's first time meeting the entire family," Darcy once again tried to assist his friend.
Caroline beamed. "Well! Surely you'll want to have your family with you for support? It is my understanding that such meetings can be somewhat awkward. I would be more than delighted to help you break the ice, Charles."
"But you have not been invited," Bingley objected.
This, too, Caroline easily swept aside. "Oh, I am just one person and I scarcely eat anything, nor do I take up much space. Surely they could have no objections to my attending? If they are making a point of dining as a family then they must understand the importance of staying close to their relations."
Darcy and Bingley exchanged helpless looks as Caroline concentrated on her plate, the smirk she tried to hide turning her lips irrepressibly upwards in a savagely satisfied manner.
Had it been between him and Georgiana, Darcy reflected, and she could bring herself to act in so crass a manner, he would have simply denied her demands and informed her that to invite oneself along to any event was the height of rudeness. But Bingley was used to giving Caroline her way, or else she was used to deviling him until she achieved her aims.
Of course, Darcy himself had been more than a little tempted to see whether he might be able to finagle his own invitation to the dinner. It had been too long since he had last seen Elizabeth and although his plans with Blue Line were progressing nicely, he still chafed with impatience and longing to be able to simply speak with her again.
If Miss Marchrend was willing to forgive Bingley for his tresspasses against her, then Darcy had some hope that there might be another joint outing in the near future. Of course, he felt he might not be able to wait so long and had been puzzling over various plans that might bring them together sooner in a way that would appear to her to be accidental. So far, nothing had presented itself as a satisfactory answer; after all, he had no wish to appear to be stalking her.
Still, desperate as he felt to see Elizabeth, he had the good social grace to decline any invitation that did not come directly from the source of the hosts. And for such an invitation, Darcy would wait forever. They did not know him and he did not know them.
As Caroline and Bingley politely bickered over what remained of the supper hour, Darcy found himself wondering if there were a way he might insert himself into Elizabeth's life via her family. It was possible that it might be simpler to arrange a chance meeting with one of them, especially if her father were at all involved in the world of business.
He mulled over the possibilities until a servant clearing away a plate that he had no memory of emptying broke him from his reverie. Mildly ashamed at having so thoroughly ignored the table - this, despite the fact that Caroline and Bingley had still not stopped carrying on with their familial argument - Darcy waited for the next pause of more than few seconds to insert himself back into the conversation.
When his opportunity came, he found that he seemed willing to be all manner of socially graceless on this evening. No matter how uncomfortable it was for him to listen to Miss Bingley bully her brother into getting her own way, Darcy felt that it was possible that he might have found a more tactful escape from her sharp tongue and insinuating ways than to baldly suggest to Bingley that they retire to his library to talk business.
For his part, Bingley didn't seem anything other than relieved at the offered escape and, despite them having no business to speak of that Darcy could really recall, agreed with alacrity and paused only to direct a servant to bring them after-dinner drinks.
Thus dismissed from the conversation, Caroline sniffed loudly in disapprobation at their leaving, but made no other attempt to converse with either of the men as they took their leave.
On the way to the library, Darcy gave his friend a sympathetic look.
"Are you going to take her?"
Bingley's answer was grim. "I don't see how I can dissuade her. You know Caroline."
"Indeed," Darcy murmured, declining to comment further on the other man's sister. It was not his place to tell Bingley how to manage her and he would not give his opinion unless it were asked for.
Of course, Bingley knew his sister behaved poorly and had occasionally displayed some embarrassment over it. But the emotion never seemed to linger with him long enough for him to do anything about her.
His mind filled with the thoughts of family and of expanding his own family to include Elizabeth in the cozy circle that was just him and Georgiana, Darcy only half attended to Bingley's anxious chatter about how Jane had received his apology and his hopes that the next evening would go well.
"Yes," Darcy finally responded to one such comment, coming out of his own ruminations with some difficulty. "But I am certain that if you continue to be as you have always been, no one in the family will find anything to object to."
Bingley laughed, good humor restored by a combination of freedom from his sister's wheedling and the effects of the brandy the two gentlemen were sharing in front of a crackling fire.
"Perhaps none of them that have known me before," he acknowledged, not bothering to pretend to false modesty. "But I do think Miss Elizabeth Bennet will take some time to convince."
At her name, Darcy was instantly on high alert, although he attempted to give no outward sign of his sudden interest. "Oh yes? How do you mean?" He asked the question with studied casualness.
"She was the one to answer the door when I went round to call on Jane," Bingley told him. "She didn't really say anything or even frown at me, but... I don't know. Her eyes are very expressive, don't you think?
"When she looked at me, it was as though she were warning me off and passing judgment on me all at once. She doesn't think I can be worthy of her sister! I'm not saying she's wrong to think so, but I do hope she will not try to dissuade Jane from seeing me again."
Darcy sat back in his chair, utterly startled at Bingley's comments. He himself had often looked at Elizabeth's eyes and thought them uncommonly pretty or mused that he could clearly see the light of intelligence shining from their depths. But that had been the extent of it. Certainly there had never seemed to be whole messages lurking in her gaze, waiting to be decoded.
"You got all of that in a look, did you?" Darcy's voice came out more sharply than he intended, stung at the thought that Bingley should have somehow been more perceptive than he had managed himself.
It wasn't that he thought Bingley was stupid or unobservant, but Darcy had always thought he had an edge over other people, possessing as he did, his Second Sight. How many ways would his reliance on his gift have proved to blind him more than it had helped him to really see? How many other things in his life had he missed or outright misinterpreted?
Feeling off-balance, he felt no better as Bingley frowned thoughtfully before replying. "Yes. Had you never noticed?"
Opting to keep silent, Darcy merely shook his head in response.
It was, finally, Bingley's turn to regard him with sympathy. "Well, I can tell you this much," he commented. "I haven't managed to determine what she feels for you, but whatever it is, she feels it quite passionately."
Thinking of his recent revelation that Elizabeth did not care for him - in point of fact, that she probably hated him - Darcy groaned inwardly. Though they soon moved onto other topics of conversation, it occurred to him more than once that evening that it was just his luck that the first thing that Elizabeth felt passionately towards him was a feeling of loathing.
A/N: o.O CAROLINE. GO HOME, YOU'RE A TERRIBLE PERSON.
Haha, anyway. Look at me making up for being late last week by being early this one. Hopefully there aren't too many errors that have slipped past me. My poor beta has a similar "work is killing meeee" situation going on, so I am not even pestering her for anything more than a high-level reaction to plot.
One more chapter (I think) and then we get to much-anticipated (by me, anyway) dinner.
To everyone reading, my deepest thanks. As always, you guys rock my world and warm the cockles of my heart. I make no promises regarding teasers or excerpts this go-round. I will, however, continue to chatter at anyone I can PM and who reviews. I know. That might be enough to keep anyone from saying anything.