Fitzwilliam Darcy
Pemberley, Derbyshire
"Surely not, Darcy," Bingley said, where he lay sprawled across the divan in a truly relaxed pose. "He would not disinherit his only son because of some baseless rumors! I hardly think much of his agent if he was not able to follow us to Madame Charlotte's house. You? For men? I think not!" Bingley scoffed, then took in Darcy's somber mien and cleared his throat. "Well… well, old man, I should think that you'll find a wife amongst the four girls who are out, then, if you must?"
Darcy sighed and let his shoulders slump as he sat close to the fire. Truly, Bingley was a gift of a friend and companion. To any other man, he would not have been comfortable admitting the truth of his father's accusations, but with Bingley he knew he had the other man's complete confidence and trust. They were brothers, in everything but blood, and Darcy was grateful to have such a fine man to stand at his side during this troubling episode.
"I will do as my father bids me, and I am sure the girl will be at least pleasant. Even if she is not…"
"If she is not, then get her with a babe and leave her at your estate, although I would hope for a love match for you, Darcy, perhaps? Four girls is plenty to choose from-"
"I did not find one that was to my liking out of all those I met in London," Darcy said, feeling justly pessimistic. His father had given no more details as to his mysterious friend, nor his daughters beyond the span of their ages. "Fifteen to twenty, all of them."
"Not on the shelf then, you are lucky, not like your cousin, Miss de Bourgh," Bingley commented. Darcy gave a low snort.
"I am lucky my father has not sought to renew that age-old betrothal, real or imagined as it might be." Darcy shook his head and dispelled the thought. His cousin was well enough, a quiet soul, but she was definitely not the kind of woman he wished to spend his year with. Truthfully, he had never met a woman that quite measured up to his expectations for the fairer sex, and he held no hope that he would find such a companion in amongst the four girls he was to select a wife from. He put the thought from his mind as much as he could for the time being and paced across the room they currently inhabited.
"Perhaps you require a change of scenery," Bingley offered and Darcy turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
"A change of scenery? We have just come to Pemberley," Darcy said mildly, although he had to admit that his homecoming had not been the relaxing, warm welcome he had hoped for. "You would away again?"
Bingley snapped his fingers in the air.
"It is not right that a man should treat his son as you've been treated, Darcy, if I might be so bold to speak against your father-"
"Bingley," Darcy warned but Bingley jumped to his feet and walked to the fireplace, rapping his knuckles against the marble mantlepiece before turning back to Darcy, a determined look on his face.
"No, I shan't speak out against your father as such, Darcy, but were you my son I would take you in hand, not cut you as he has done. Can he not see that your heart yearns for the love of a good woman just as any young man's does?" Bingley asked passionately, and Darcy had to hold back his derisive snort. Bingley was a good man, but he was romantic where Darcy was practical.
"I am not quite sure that my heart yearns as you think," he muttered to himself, but Bingley paid him no mind.
"Passion!" Bingley cried, "It is the thing that all young men seek, and all women swoon for. The romance of the chase, of the engagement, the fulfillment of one's heart once one is finally married. Your honored father, esteemed as he might be, has beat the passion out of your heart by not appealing to your desire for love. He speaks of marriage only in terms of duty and heirs, and while yes, those are admirable things to marry for, he has missed out on the very real nature of your heart, Darcy."
For his part, Darcy did not wish to offend his friend's zealous nature and so kept quiet that he felt the real nature of his heart was to long for peace and quiet, not feminine company.
"And what, do you suggest, do I do, for my passionate heart?" he asked, almost not able to keep the sarcastic drawl out of his voice. Bingley missed it though, because his dear friend turned on him, eyes bright with ideas.
"Come with me to Netherfield," he blurted out.
"That heap you let?" Darcy asked, surprised. He'd almost forgotten that Bingley had gotten it into his mind that no gentleman was truly a gentleman without having let a country getaway, close enough to London to be convenient and yet far enough away that the trip there felt like a journey or adventure.
"Yes," Bingley said decisively. "I have decided to summer there, and I would be most pleased should you join me."
"But we have just arrived here…" Darcy said but then stopped his thought right there. Come winter he might just be shackled to his new bride, and denied the freedoms he currently enjoyed at least until the girl was heavy with his child and well into her confinement. He felt guilt at being so mercenary in his thoughts, but he forgave himself - a wife was a means to an end: prevent his father from disinheriting him, and prove to whomever might be speaking in salacious terms about his 'unnatural desires' that he was indeed a true man.
Guilt panged him. But Georgiana? How could he leave her when she was so exposed to their father's drunken behavior? He would have a word with her governess. Perhaps Georgiana could come for an extended visit… it would show her a different part of England, and get her neatly out from under George Darcy's less than tender mercies.
The thought of offering her a bit of freedom tied it up tightly for him, and he looked at Bingley.
"If you would agree to allow me to extend the invitation to Georgiana," he said. Bingley grinned, the smile splitting his face.
"But of course! My sister, Miss Bingley, will be coming as well, because I think she tires of traveling as the newly made Mrs. Hurst's wedding trip companion. She will be pleased, I think, to make acquaintance with Miss Darcy." Bingley tapped on his lower lip as if thinking and then smirked at Darcy. "What do you think? One last hurrah as a bachelor, Darcy? Will you attend Netherfield and enjoy the best fruits of summer with me?"
Darcy looked at his friend, wondered at the madcap plan, and then thought of staying another minute in Pemberley, being cursed by his father.
"It sounds the very plan," Darcy said, and Bingley clapped his hands together in triumph.
"Ready the horses, and warn the fair maidens, for Darcy and Bingley ride again," his good friend quipped, and Darcy could not help himself: for the first time in days, he laughed.
New chapters uploaded on Fridays, but you may find it in its entirety on Amazon now by searching for 'Nora Kipling - A Required Engagement'.