Page 74 of A Different Impression

“Listen to his explanation tomorrow,” Charlotte advised. “Then you may determine whether his reasons warrant your forgiveness.”

“Is it so simple?” Jane asked. “He said nothing to anyone. He disappeared for months. How am I to forgive that?”

“I am only suggesting that you hear him before deciding. If his explanation is sufficient, you may then consider whether to forgive him. If it is not, be done with him. You need only tell Mr Darcy that you do not wish Mr Bingley to call upon you again.”

Jane considered her advice. “I shall listen to him, I suppose, and decide afterwards. Now, tell me about you and the Colonel.”

Charlotte’s cheeks coloured. “There is very little to tell beyond our two dances. I spoke with Lady Matlock several times, and I believe she liked me well enough. She was not so warm towards me as she is towards Elizabeth, but perhaps she will become more so.”

“And the Colonel?”

“I still have no notion what he intends because he has said nothing. He calls almost every day, though not upon me specifically, and he generally contrives to sit beside me.” Charlotte sighed. “I suppose I shall not know his intentions until he chooses to reveal them.”

Jane smiled. Charlotte’s practical words did not quite conceal the hope beneath them.

The following morning, Darcy awoke with Elizabeth still asleep beside him. She had been so tired after the ball that she had nearly fallen asleep before he could help her out of her gown, but when she awakened refreshed, they lingered in bed and indulged their affection.

Afterwards, Darcy rested his hand upon the slight swell of her belly and shifted lower to address their unborn child. Elizabeth laughed, as she did every morning when he conducted these one-sided conversations. That morning, he told the child about the ball and his great satisfaction in having persuaded its mother to dance with him four times.

After pressing several tender kisses to the small bump, he returned to the pillows and drew Elizabeth against him.

“Bingley insisted that he needed to speak with me this morning,” Darcy said. “I do not know what he means to disclose, although he promised to explain everything. I cannot imagine what compelled him to leave so abruptly—or what prevented him from writing for nearly five months. Would you care to join us?”

Elizabeth placed her hand over his heart. “No. He will probably speak more freely if you are alone. You may tell me what you can afterwards, and I shall speak with Jane about how she feels regarding his sudden return.”

She kissed him before continuing.

“Now, what of Richard and Charlotte? He danced both the supper and final sets with her. Surely that indicates a considerable preference. Charlotte’s dowry is small, but if Richard could be persuaded to reside at Rosings as its manager, if not its master, he might be able to retire from the army and marry.”

Darcy considered the possibility. “Richard claims not to desire the life of a landed gentleman, but he might find the prospect more appealing if I established a stud farm at Rosings and asked him to manage it. He would not merely be overseeing the estate; he would be directing an enterprise that might genuinely interest him. The house would be available to him as part of his position, so he could not accuse me of offering charity.”

“Could you contrive to make him suggest it himself?” Elizabeth asked. “Or perhaps we might plant the idea in Charlotte’s mind and allow her to direct him towards it.”

She waggled her eyebrows, and Darcy laughed.

“You mean the way you direct me, dearest?”

He rose over her and captured her lips. It was some time before they went downstairs to breakfast, although they still arrived before any of the other ladies who had attended the ball.

Not long after everyone had finished breaking their fast, Bingley and Richard arrived at Darcy House. Darcy and Elizabeth were answering letters in the study when the two gentlemen were admitted. Richard proceeded directly towards the drawing room, whilst Bingley entered the study with an expression of strained cheerfulness.

“Darcy, Mrs Darcy,” he greeted them. “I was very pleased to see you again last night. You are both looking exceedingly well.”

“Thank you, Bingley,” Darcy replied gravely. “Elizabeth, would you mind requesting coffee? Bingley, may I offer you anything else?”

“No, thank you. I appreciate your willingness to hear me.”

Elizabeth requested coffee from the footman in the corridor before leaving Bingley and Darcy alone. The two gentlemen spoke of trivial matters until the tray arrived, but once the servant had withdrawn, Bingley set down his untouched cup and began.

“Darcy, I owe you—and the Bennets—a considerable apology. When I left Netherfield on the morning after the ball, I intended to remain in London for only a few days. There was business I believed I could conclude quickly, and I expected to return before anyone had reason to wonder about me.”

“That was what we all understood,” Darcy answered solemnly.

“When I reached my lodgings, however, I found an urgent letter from my aunt in Scarborough concerning Caroline,” Bingley continued. “She had attracted a suitor, but my aunt distrusted his intentions and begged me to come. I believed I could travel north, settle whatever difficulty had arisen and return to Netherfield within a fortnight.”

Bingley looked down at his hands. “I wrote you a brief note saying that unexpected family business had delayed me.”

Darcy nodded his agreement. That was the one letter he had received from his friend, but nothing had followed.