An Engaging Friendship

by AmyJ

  The carriage had barely stopped when Darcy jumped out. "Dearest, please go home and see that a room is made up. I shall be along directly."

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but seeing her husband's earnestness, simply said, "Of course."

  After giving his driver instructions to return after seeing Mrs. Darcy home, he hastily made his way over to Bingley.

  "Bingley!" he harkened. When he neared, he inserted himself between the lady and his friend.

  "Now, you are certainly a tall fellow," she simpered, as she clutched Darcy's arm.

  Offended and revolted, Darcy handed the lady -- if she could be called that -- a crown and hissed, "Be gone and forget whatever you have seen."

  "Darcy ol' chap," one of Bingley's friends called. "Come to join our merry party? I thought you too staid for this kind of entertainment." They all laughed.

  "His lip is not as stiff as all that." Bingley defended, leaning heavily against one of the other gentlemen.

  "Perhaps he has tired of that little wife of his," another man chortled, earning a laugh from the others.

  Incensed that they would dare discuss Elizabeth, Darcy resolved to put a quick end to things. Roughly, he grabbed Bingley's arm. "Come with me, Bingley. I have something of import to discuss with you."

  Bingley looked at Darcy as though he had grown a second head. "You wish my advice?"

  Darcy rolled his eyes, but wanting to move things to a more private location, he said, "Yes, now come with me."

  With a dopey smile, Bingley agreed. As Darcy dragged him towards an

  approaching carriage, Bingley tipped his hat to his other friends. "Business before pleasure, chums."

  Not surprisingly, Bingley babbled most of the way to Arryndale. Darcy could not make sense out of most it, but caught the words, Wortham, proper home,

  Caroline, angel, and wife. He was uncertain what to make of all of it.

  Upon arriving home, Darcy and his valet, Franklin, all but carried the soused, and now singing, Bingley up the stairs to a guest room.

  "Quiet, Bingley," Darcy hissed, "or you shall wake the house." It was bad enough Elizabeth would hear Bingley in this state; the last thing he wanted was for Georgiana to wake and start inquiring about the noise.

  Thankfully, after a long winded apology, Bingley quieted.

  "'tis an all too common occurrence." Franklin muttered as he assisted Darcy in preparing Bingley for bed. At his master's silent reprimand, the valet quickly added, "For Mr. Bingley, sir. Snyder says his master is often in this state, not that I am one to gossip."

  Darcy nodded, silencing the servant while at the same time acknowledging

  Franklin's words. The issue had come up long ago, but when Darcy had tried to inquire, Bingley had immediately dismissed the accusations as grand

  embellishments. Engrossed in his courtship with Elizabeth, Darcy had not

  given much more thought to it. Now, he wished he had; Bingley was in a fine kettle of fish.

  "No more whispering," Bingley slurred. "I can hardly advise you, Darcy, if I can not hear what you say." His head lolled to the side of the chair. "Rather odd décor for a study, if I do say so myself. How ‘bout a brandy?"

  "Bingley, enough." Darcy grumbled. His patience was quite worn. "We shall discuss it in the morning."

  It took a great deal more effort before Bingley was fully silenced and put to bed, but the chore was finally done. Afterwards, Darcy took a moment to pen a note for Franklin to take to Snyder, Bingley's valet, at dawn the next day, and then turned to his rooms.

  Not surprisingly, he found Elizabeth waiting.

  "Mr. Bingley is occupying one of our guest rooms," Darcy said, stating the obvious. His face was creased with lines of weariness. "I do not wish to discuss any further particulars tonight."

  Elizabeth pursed her lips and raised an innocent brow. "Whatever you think is best," she clipped. An uneasy silence descended upon the room.

  After taking a few minutes to change into bed clothes, Darcy returned to

  Elizabeth's side, feeling a little more sanguine. "Forgive me, dearest." He kissed her forehead. "I do not know what to tell you, but I shall speak to Bingley tomorrow." He hesitated for a moment. "Perhaps you and Georgiana might like to visit the shops?"

  Elizabeth laughed at her husband's poorly disguised ploy. "I am certain there is something I need." She returned the peck and then climbed into bed. "Shall it be safe to return for lunch, or should we make a day of it?"

  "Whatever you feel is best," he teased.

  The following morning, all but Bingley were up early. Uncharacteristically, Darcy broke his fast alone in his study.

  "I shall not keep you. I only wished to inform you that we were leaving."

  Elizabeth said.

  "Does Georgiana suspect?"

  "I do not think so. I told her you had urgent business to attend to this morning."

  Darcy embraced his wife. "Thank you, Elizabeth."

  She looked up at him. "I would not wish for her to know either." She brushed a thumb across the worry lines that marred his forehead. "Mr. Bingley is his own man, Fitzwilliam. He alone is responsible for his choices."

  Darcy smiled wanly. "That is what troubles me most, I think."

  "You take too much upon yourself, dear husband of mine." Elizabeth laid her head against his chest. "I worry some day you will simply fall over from the weight of it all."

  Darcy chuckled and kissed her hair. "I shall take that under advisement. You should be going before Bingley wakes."

  Elizabeth nodded in agreement, and they shared a tender kiss goodbye.

  Alone again, Darcy spent a few moments revelling in the sweetness that was

  his wife. How he had managed all these years without her love and gentle

  support, he did not know. His thoughts then once again turned to his friend, and he could only wish Bingley, too, could find someone so caring.

  Surely, with such a wife, Bingley would not find himself in a predicament as he had last night. Nor would he pass his time at gentlemen's clubs and gambling tables, getting foxed. A good wife would keep Bingley focussed on the

  important things, like his estate. The more he thought on it, the more Darcy was convinced a good wife was precisely what Bingley needed, and he would

  tell his friend so.

  It was not until mid-morning before the knock Darcy had been anticipating was heard. "Enter," he called.

  When Bingley entered, Darcy was unable to mask his shock. Though well

  dressed, Bingley was but a shell of a man. His friend's eyes were red and still a bit glazed, and he looked almost ghostly pale.

  Afraid Bingley might otherwise fall to the floor, Darcy quickly motioned to a chair. "I trust you are feeling better this morning?"

  Bingley took his seat and nodded, looking everywhere but at Darcy. "I am," he said with forced lightness.

  Not quite certain how to proceed, Darcy raked a hand through his hair.

  "Bingley, do you remember what you were about last night?"

  Bingley closed his eyes and shook his head. "Bits and pieces, but not how I ended up here."

  Images of the previous night ignited Darcy's ire. "I found you last night, deeply in cups and on the arm of a prostitute! What has gotten into you?" He cringed, hearing what Georgiana called his fatherly tone. It was not how he wanted the conversation to go, and was thankful that instead of being indignant, Bingley appeared more shocked. "I brought you back here to prevent you from harming yourself, and to spare your sister from having to deal with you. Now I demand an explanation." Dang it! There was that tone again.

  "Spare me your self-righteousness, Darcy! I am my own man. I do not answer to you."

  Hearing the words Elizabeth had uttered just a few hours ago, nearly made

  Darcy laugh. It was just what he needed to redirect the conversation. In a less authoritative tone, he said, "You are correct, Bingley. You do not owe me an explanation, though I would like to have one just the
same. Your presence did not go unnoticed by my wife."

  Bingley blushed deeply. "Wha... What have you told her?"

  "Nothing, yet. She was the one who spotted you on the street last night, however." He watched curiously as the man before him seemed to shrink to a mere boy.

  "Does she know about the..." Bingley even sounded like one.

  "I do not know. She is a smart woman though; I would not be surprised if she figured it out." Bingley shook his head as Darcy continued. "Charles, this is not like you. Tell me what is going on. If you are having problems, let me help you."

  "You can not fix everything, Darcy, and we can not all be like you. You have a perfect home, perfect servants, the perfect connections and the perfect estate.

  Not to mention a wife that adores you and a sister that idolizes you." Darcy could not but be amused at Bingley's outburst, but kept to his purpose of

  finding out what troubled his friend.

  "Bingley, you have not been yourself these last months. Surely, you understand I am only speaking to you out of concern and friendship. I would like to help you if I can."

  "Now you want to help me? You are the reason she hates me!"

  "What!? Who hates you?"

  "Miss Bennet!" Bingley cried. "You are the one who advised me against her!

  You are the one who said I had to consider my duty to my family first!"

  Thoroughly confused, Darcy merely stared at his friend. Was Bingley imagining things? "I do not recall doing such a thing." He said slowly. "Why would I advise you against Miss Bennet when I am married to her sister?"

  "Is that not ironic?" Bingley let out a grimaced laugh. "First you advise me against her, and within a fortnight announce your engagement to her sister."

  "When did I supposedly offer such advice?"

  Bingley stood abruptly, arms flailing. "Last November! When we left

  Hertfordshire! I sat in this very room telling you I was going to give up

  Netherfield and Miss Bennet because she was unsuitable." He turned to look outside, but then recoiled from the brightness of the sun.

  Finally making some sense of Bingley's behaviour over the past months, Darcy said gravely, "You have been in the cups far too long, my friend. I remember the conversation you allude to, but recall it quite differently. First, we were at Boodle's, but that is neither here nor there. Second, I recommended you think longer before giving up Netherfield. In fact, I specifically recall telling you to revisit it in the spring. Third, I never advised you against Miss Bennet. You were the one who told me Miss Bennet was unsuitable, citing something about family duty. I merely agreed it was an important consideration."

  "So you admit that you said family duty came first!"

  Darcy rubbed his hands over his face. This was going to be more trying than he imagined. "Bingley, you completely misunderstood me. I said family duty was an important consideration. I did not say it should be the only consideration.

  You said you were giving up Miss Bennet, and I thought it was because your

  affections had waned. I would never have advised you against her; I was

  engaged to her sister at the time for Christ's sake!"

  "What?"

  "I left Hertfordshire to meet with my solicitor regarding the marriage contract."

  "Why did you not say anything?"

  Darcy sat back and massaged his temples, hoping to keep a headache at bay.

  The terms of his engagement were really none of Bingley's business, but

  deciding it was the only way to get to the bottom of things, he carefully

  couched a response. "Elizabeth and I decided to keep it between us until the papers were signed. Very few people knew; I had not even told Georgiana yet."

  "Then how... then who..." Bingley stammered. He slumped back in the chair, his brow wrinkled in confusion. After a few moments, he dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

  "I take it you still have feelings for Miss Bennet," Darcy said softly. He was uncertain if the groan was caused by an aching head or regret.

  "I love her," Bingley said hoarsely. He looked to be near tears.

  "Then why are you in London?" Darcy replied, trying to sound a little more upbeat.

  "Because it is too late!"

  "Why?" Darcy asked, once again confused.

  "What do I have to offer to her? I am nothing more than the son of a

  tradesman? How can I compare to someone with twice my income and a title?"

  "If you believe Miss Bennet is only interested in titles and wealth, then you are correct; you have nothing to offer."

  "Miss Bennet is not a fortune hunter! How dare you accuse her of such! You are her brother!" In an attempt to keep a burst of laughter at bay, Darcy merely arched a brow. His friend was obviously in deep to have fallen for such a

  simple ploy.

  "It is too late for me," Bingley said, once again sounding resigned to a fate worse than death. "I saw them together. She is happy with Lord Blakeslee, and I saw the way he admires her. If they have not reached an understanding yet, they will soon."

  Darcy rolled his eyes. First my wife, now Bingley. I will have to have a talk with Wesley; he is dangerously close to damaging Miss Bennet's reputation.

  First things first though. "I have it on very good authority that Blakeslee's relationship with Miss Bennet is only friendship."

  "Even if that is true, it does not matter. She will not speak with me. I asked to speak with her at your wedding, but she refused me."

  Surprised, Darcy asked, "Did she give you any reason?" Based on Elizabeth's distress when Bingley failed to return to Hertfordshire, he was certain Miss Bennet had formed some sort of attachment for his friend. And aside from the attention his cousin had paid Miss Bennet, there had been no other suitors.

  A pained expression came over Bingley as he seemingly quoted, "Your

  acquaintance has brought me only grief and humiliation." He swallowed. "I have been an interminable ass."

  Silence fell on the room as Darcy considered the situation. Perhaps Miss

  Bennet was not as attached to his friend as he thought. Then again, she may have been trying to keep herself from being hurt again. She had rejected Lord Blakeslee's suit, and though his cousin had shown an interest in her, he was on the continent, and they had not come to any understanding that he was aware of. It was entirely possible Jane, too, was nursing old wounds.

  There was only one way to find out. If things worked out well, the two could start over. It all depended on giving Bingley a little push.

  "Is she worth it?" Darcy asked.

  Bingley's head snapped upwards. With a tone of desperation, he said, "I would do anything to win her back, but how is it to be done when she will not even speak with me?" He visibly deflated again.

  Silence descended. That was an issue. He and Elizabeth could not leave town yet, but it was imperative to get Bingley away to avoid another night like last night. Suddenly, he was struck with an epiphany. At first he recoiled from the idea, but not seeing any other option, he inhaled deeply and muttered, "Heaven help me when Elizabeth finds out." In a louder voice, he said, "Bingley, perhaps you asked the wrong person permission to speak with Miss Bennet."

  "The wrong person? Whom should I have asked?"

  Darcy stalled for a moment. He could not believe himself. He was going to

  purposefully foist Mrs. Bennet on his friend. In the end, he chalked it up to Bingley's penance for being ‘an interminable ass.' "Mrs. Bennet. I highly doubt she would deny your request for a private audience with her daughter."

  A sly grin slowly emerged on Bingley's face. "Darcy! You are a genius!" He jumped out of his chair and again began pacing wildly. "I can leave for Hertfordshire tomorrow. I will stay at the inn. I can..."

  "Bingley!" Darcy barked, stopping Bingley mid-stride. Now was the time to make his friend see reason. "Perhaps you should take some time to get your head together. I can not allow you to court my sister as you are."

/>   Thankfully, Bingley did not lash out at him again; instead he looked properly chastised. "I understand, Darcy. I swear I will become the man Miss Bennet deserves. No more liquor, no more gambling, no more taverns."

  Darcy raised his brows. There was more to Bingley's exploits than he had

  heard. "And perhaps you should take some time to consider why Miss Bennet refused you last time, and how you intend to plead for her forgiveness? I would suggest you practice grovelling."

  Bingley nodded slowly. Solemnly, he said, "You are correct. I need to think on this." He began pacing again, mumbling to himself. He was oblivious to the fact that he was in Darcy's study and his friend was still in the room.

  Darcy cleared his throat lightly, and after gaining no reaction from his friend, cleared his throat again more loudly. "Bingley, might I also suggest

  accommodations other than the Meryton Inn? It is fine for a night or two, but hardly sufficient while courting a gentleman's daughter."

  Bingley walked over to Darcy and shook his hand vigorously. "Darcy, you are a saviour!"

  "One last thing." At Bingley's waiting prompt, he said, "Be sure of yourself before you return to Hertfordshire. If you trifle with Miss Bennet again, as her brother, I will be obliged to call you out." With a smirk he added, "That is, if you survive my wife's wrath."

  Bingley nodded once at the warning. "If I am fortunate enough to gain Miss Bennet's forgiveness and affection, I will never let her go!"

  Darcy watched his friend leave with some sense of relief. All this was over a woman! He thought to scoff at the notion, but then had to wonder what he

  would have been like if Elizabeth had broken their engagement. Would he have tried to find solace in a bottle too?

  Thankful he would never have to find out. He turned back to the papers in front of him. He glanced up at the clock, counting the hours before Elizabeth would be home again. He could not wait to tell her the good news.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Fitzwilliam?” Elizabeth asked, entering his study. “Mrs. Brenton said Mr.

  Bingley has returned to his own home. Did everything go well?”