Chapter 11

Darcy awoke early the next morning and dressed for the day. He usually kept country hours, and residing in a household with Miss Bingley did nothing to discourage his habits. She attempted several times to catch him breaking his fast by arising early herself, but she always seemed to just miss him.

Little did she know that his valet had convinced Miss Bingley's lady's maid to inform him each night what hour Miss Bingley had requested to be woken up. The young girl, who had little loyalty to the her harsh mistress and thought Darcy handsome and kind, willingly gave up the information.

Thus Darcy had just finished his morning ride and was approaching the house when an express rider approached.

"Mr. Darcy?"

Upon confirming his identity, the young man passed down a note, then dashed away again as quickly as he came.

Heart sinking, Darcy opened the missive and looked down at the unfamiliar handwriting. He breathed a sigh of relief; it was a note from Dr. Rowley, confirming that he would be arriving the following day.

He entered Netherfield and quickly made his way up the stairs, darting past the open door to the breakfast room, praying he wouldn't be seen.

Once safely in his chambers with the door closed, he said a quick prayer of thanks. The debacle from the prior night had yet to be resolved - or even discussed - and he had little desire to do so over breakfast alone with Miss Bingley.

Darcy's valet had just finished tying his master's cravat when a knock sounded. The manservant opened the door, then looked back at Darcy.

"Mr. Bingley, sir."

"Very well. Let him in, Hawkins."

Hawkins opened the door further to admit Bingley, then disappeared into the dressing room. Darcy watched with mild amusement as Bingley paced back and forth, muttering to himself. Finally, the younger man looked up. "I'm going to marry her, Darcy."

The world seemed to spin around Darcy's face for a moment. "Marry who, exactly?"

"Miss Bennet." Bingley had stopped pacing and now stood at the window, running his hands through his hair and twisting his fingers together.

Darcy gave a silent prayer of thanks as his balance was restored. "And what, pray tell, has led you from admiration to marriage?"

Bingley started pacing again. "You heard her father. She may only have months to live, if that. I cannot imagine a world without her in it."

"And marrying her will fix things?"

"Yes! No." Bingley threw his hands in the air. "I don't know. All I know is that I have spent the last two weeks enjoying her smiles. If they are to come to an end, then I want to have spent every moment possible enjoying them."

Darcy frowned at his friend. "And then what? You will spend the next year or so chained to a sickbed. Then after she dies, you will spend another year in mourning - and that's not including the fact that you would be bound to her family for the rest of your life."

Bingley placed his hands on hips and faced his friend. "What are you saying, Darcy?"

"I'm saying that you are acting with too much haste. Would it not be better to leave now, before your affections are even more engaged and you are tied to a mother-in-law who would bleed you dry?"

The silence in the room was heavy. Bingley slumped his shoulders. "I don't think you understand."

"Then explain it to me."

"I don't think I can put it into words. It's just… you heard Caroline last night."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Wasn't Miss Elizabeth marvelous? She said all of the things I think when I hear my sister speak but haven't the courage to say out loud."

Darcy sighed. "I fail to see what this has to do with wanting to marry Miss Bennet."

"I never realized until I met her that anyone could be so kind, so loving. Her smiles make me feel as though I could accomplish anything. I've never felt that way before, Darcy. Not once. I spend my days being told by my sisters all the things I need to do better. I spend my nights in the company of beautiful women in society who only look at me for my income."

"You believe Miss Bennet to be different?"

"When she smiles at me -"

"She smiles at everyone, Bingley!"

Bingley flinched at his friend's harsh tone. "You do not think she cares for me?"

"I think she is too simple to even know how! You heard her father; the doctor wanted Miss Bennet to be put in an asylum or workhouse. It's clear that there is something wrong with her mind, not just her heart. Her smiles may not mean anything other than she thinks you are kind."

"You're wrong!"

The two men stared at one another. Bingley's face was contorted with anger. "I do not care, Darcy, if she doesn't love me the way I love her. I want to spend my days feeling the way she makes me feel."

"Then that is selfish, Bingley!"

Startled, Bingley looked at his friend in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You speak of how she makes you feel, but what about how she feels? If she truly only has a short time left of life, why do you think she'd want to spend it with you?"

Seeing he was finally getting through to his friend, Darcy pressed on. "It's clear her family loves her. Why take her from the only home she has ever known? Wouldn't she want to be with those whom she loves most in her final days? And what of her family's wishes? I imagine they'd prefer to spend every moment they could with her. Would you rob them of that?"

Indecision flitted across Bingley's face. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

"And that's precisely why you shouldn't make any decisions right now. You're not seeing things clearly. A marriage with Miss Bennet would be an unequal match, which wouldn't be agreeable to you or her."

"What - what should I do?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Let the doctor come and make his determinations. Once Miss Bennet is well enough to return home, you can leave her and her family in peace. Return to London and find someone more appropriate to marry. Someone who can bear your children and manage your home."

With each word Darcy uttered, Bingley seemed to shrink into himself more and more. At last he said, "I see your point, Darcy. You needn't elaborate any further."

There was silence for several long moments, each man absorbed in his own thoughts. After several long minutes, the sound of a clock striking the hour interrupted the stillness.

"It is time for breakfast," Bingley said tonelessly.

The two men exited the room and made their way towards the staircase, and Darcy clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Forget about Miss Bennet. There are much better matches you could make."

"Ahem."

The two men froze and turned towards the sound. Just behind them, coming from the guest wing, was Elizabeth Bennet.

The fire in her eyes told Darcy that, once again, she had heard him make a disparaging remark about her sister.

He groaned to himself. How could this morning get any worse?