P&P The Untold Stories: Darcy Invites Bingley to Pemberley

Darcy invites Bingley and his family to Pemberley

June 17, 1812 

Fitzwilliam Darcy looked across to his good friend, Charles Bingley. They were sitting at their club having just enjoyed a light meal. The past two months, during which he had been in London, had passed easily enough, he supposed, although he knew he was not in good spirits. How could he be, after what had happened in Kent? He was haunted by nightmares of his ill-advised proposal to Elizabeth Bennet and their subsequent argument. During the interval since then, Darcy had grown to realise that he had deserved every word of condemnation she had thrown at him; he had behaved abominably, from his insulting remarks the night they met, to not warning her and others about Wickham’s true character, keeping Bingley and Miss Jane Bennet apart, and especially to what he had said to her during what ought to have been a declaration of love. Even the cold manner in which he had written to her and forced his letter into her hands had been ungentlemanly.

As Bingley spoke about an excursion he had lately made with some mutual acquaintances, Darcy observed him. What should he do about Miss Bennet? Would it be better to stay quiet about his actions and those of Bingley’s sisters? The three of them had decided together to convince him that Miss Bennet did not return his affection. Later, they had decided to keep from him that she had passed some weeks in town the previous winter, and that the ladies had met. Or should Darcy tell him that he accepted that he had been mistaken and judged Miss Bennet unfairly; after all, how could he know what was in her heart when he hardly knew her? The more egregious error was in keeping Miss Bennet’s presence from him; that had been nothing short of a lie.

I do not know what to do, Darcy thought. It was unusual for him to be so indecisive, and he had no one to ask advice from. His cousin Fitzwilliam would be best, but he was yet again away, attending to his military duties, and it would be too much to try to discuss via letters—especially since Fitzwilliam was a terrible correspondent. I feel I ought to tell Bingley, to confess how I wronged him—and Miss Bennet—yet, he has not mentioned her in weeks. Indeed, Darcy could not remember his friend talking of the Bennets, Netherfield Park, or Hertfordshire since they met in town after Easter. Very likely, it was a sign that Bingley no longer thought of Miss Bennet, that whatever tender sentiments he had felt were a thing of the past. Would it be right to disturb his peace—and possibly cause him to argue with his sisters—by disclosing it?

It is not as though either of us will see anyone from that family again. As always happened when a similar notion occurred to him, Darcy felt a stab of regret. He still thought of Elizabeth daily—many times each day, in truth—and although he had accepted she was lost to him, he could not help dreaming it was otherwise, that some odd circumstance would bring them together, and he would have the chance to demonstrate he had become a better man than the one she had previously known.

“What of the summer, Darcy? What are your plans?” Bingley’s questions pulled Darcy from his private reflections.

“Georgiana and I shall leave town next week, as I believe I mentioned. We are going to spend several weeks with my father’s relations in Hampshire. After that, we will return to Pemberley. I expect we shall be there by the beginning of August. I anticipate staying until October or perhaps through the winter. I have not decided if we will return to town in the autumn.” At the moment, he had no wish to return to the busyness of London society, but he knew he might feel differently after a few months in Derbyshire.

“That sounds delightful, though I am not sure I would like to stay so far north all winter.” Bingley laughed. “You have described the snows and told me enough stories of not being able to leave the estate for days at a time often enough, and I recall what Yorkshire was like when I was a child and still lived there. Pemberley is the most wonderful place, to be sure, but you know me. I do quickly grow bored of my own company.” He laughed again.

“What will you do?” Darcy asked, wondering if he would mention Netherfield. Bingley still held the lease on the estate, and it would be reasonable to retreat to it to avoid spending the summer in London. If he does, I shall tell him that Miss Bennet did return his affection last year. She might still have tender feelings for him, which he ought to know before returning to that neighbourhood, regardless of how he now views her.

“Oh.” Bingley scratched his cheek as though trying to recall the information. “Well, the Hursts, Caroline, and I are going to Scarborough. Have I not mentioned it? Our old uncle—you have heard me speak of him—he is not doing particularly well. He is not horribly ill, you understand, but he is five and seventy, and my sisters and I would like to see him. You know what I mean.”

Before it is too late, Darcy thought but did not say aloud. He nodded. “When do you intend to go?”

Bingley shrugged. “We have no set date in mind, but I know Hurst and Louisa must visit his family first. I expect it will be well into next month before we set off north.”

Darcy sighed surreptitiously, not sure if it was disappointment or relief he experienced. Bingley said nothing about Hertfordshire. If he had, and Darcy had then made his confession, perhaps it would have led to him seeing Elizabeth again—not that he should wish for it, given it would only result in further heartache for him and possibly discomfort, if not anger, for her.

“Why do we not all travel north together? Georgiana and I might spend a few days in London on our way to Derbyshire, or we could arrange to meet you along the route. You and your family can make a sojourn at Pemberley—stay a week or a fortnight. Would that not be agreeable?”

Bingley’s expression brightened. “It would indeed! Thank you, Darcy. I know my sisters will be pleased at the prospect, and you know Hurst. As long as he can spend his days in sport, he will have no complaints.”

They spoke about it a little longer, deciding on a rough date by which they would either be ready to travel together from London or when and where they would meet.

***

The day after seeing Darcy, Bingley took dinner with his sisters and brother-in-law. He loved his sisters, although he was not ignorant of their faults. For one, they gossiped far too much. That was what they were doing at present—not only sharing every bit of ‘news’ they had heard about everyone they knew, but also sharing their opinions of their looks and behaviour, often in ways that were not particularly kind.

As they did too often when we were all together in Hertfordshire. I heard them speak disparagingly of the Bennets many times. It seemed they had something disagreeable to say about them every day. They even managed to find ways to object to Miss Bennet. Quietly, he sighed. In his view, Jane Bennet remained the loveliest, kindest, most admirable lady he had ever met and was likely ever to meet. If only she had liked me better. I know Caroline and Louisa would prefer me to make a more brilliant match, some lady of fortune and connexions, but if Miss Bennet had cared for me as I cared for her, I would have married her and been a very, very happy man.

Regarding his sisters, he recollected the hints they sometimes made that Miss Georgiana Darcy would be an appropriate, indeed excellent, choice of wife, and likely the only possible he could make, as far as they were concerned. Bingley certainly liked her well enough, but he hardly knew her. She was just sixteen years old—too young for him to look at in a romantic light—and he rather expected that Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam would not want their ward to marry him. After all, he had no connexions and his father had not been a gentleman. Miss Darcy was a sweet, very pretty girl, and with her birth and fortune, she could make a brilliant match.

Besides, I do not believe I could ever love her as I want to love the lady I make Mrs Bingley. Perhaps I shall change my mind once she is older and I have more time to forget Miss Bennet, but for now, it is unthinkable. Before we go to Pemberley, I shall have to insist they forget the notion entirely. I never want to hear of it again.

It then occurred to him that he had not yet told his family of Darcy’s invitation. Mindless of what Louisa was saying, he announced, “I saw Darcy yesterday. He suggested we travel north together at the end of July or early August. We are going to Scarborough, and he will be returning to Pemberley at about the same time. He said we might break our journey at his estate for a week or so. I told him we would.”

“We are invited to Pemberley? You saw Mr Darcy and did not tell us at once?” His younger sister was clearly annoyed and likely intended to reprimand him.

“I see Darcy all the time, Caroline. I need hardly mention it each time I do,” Bingley retorted before she could go on.

There followed several minutes of his older sister demanding he not speak to them in such a tone and both ladies explain why—in their view—it was vital that they knew everything about his connexion to Darcy, including when and where they met, what they did, and what they spoke of. Bingley quietly continued with his meal as they did, intent on ignoring their words so that they would not affect him. In all the years he and Darcy had been friends, Bingley had never gossiped about him with his sisters; why they thought this would change was a mystery.

Once they grew silent, he looked up from his plate and said, “So, shall I tell him we accept?”

That began another round of them telling him all the ways they found him lacking, including that he would even need to ask such a question when the answer was an obvious yes.

© Lucy Marin 2024

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