An Unexpected Ally

Part 25

Darcy did not fully begin to breathe easily until he, Georgiana and Charles were once again inside their carriage and heading towards home. Thus far, he had avoided disaster on two fronts: Georgiana had been kept safe from seeing George Wickham, and Charles had been distracted from calling immediately on Jane Bennet. He drew in a breath. Three fronts. Charles had also been prevented from demanding an interview with Colonel Fitzwilliam, which would have undoubtedly escalated matters not only between them but between Darcy and his cousin. A sharp pain started to make its presence felt in his head and he massaged at a spot on his forehead as if that might ease the tension. It did little but call attention to it.

"Are you unwell, William?" Georgiana's voice was all concern and Darcy immediately straightened, plastering a smile on his face that he doubted was at all convincing.

"Quite well." He swallowed, glancing at Bingley, whose own gaze remained fixed, unseeing, on the scenery they passed, his features unreadable. "A little tired."

"Better we go straight home, then," Georgiana ventured, her voice loud enough that it must have carried to Bingley's ears, although he made no sign that he had heard her.

Nobody said anything for a moment, until Georgiana kicked Darcy unceremoniously, across the expansive interior of the carriage. He winced and she glared at him, accompanying the kick with a silent instruction that he say something.

What? he thought, desperately. When have my words ever succeeded in improving things where matters of the heart are concerned? Georgiana did not know, of course. She could not know that during his short tenure in Hertfordshire, Darcy had caused more problems by speaking than by staying silent, and he had learnt to favour the latter, especially where his friend Charles was concerned.

Still, saying nothing would be tantamount to encouragement, in this case. He would do anything, now, to keep from calling at Longbourn that afternoon. With an evening of reflection, Charles might be persuaded to think otherwise, or at least to act otherwise. Confrontation might be avoided for another day.

And what of Richard? Darcy might write to him, seek to explain himself by letter if not in person, begin, somehow, to repair their fractured relationship.

It was not lost on him the great sacrifice to his pride Richard had made by calling at Netherfield, and Darcy had hurried him out again without even giving him a chance to explain. For there must be some explanation, he realised that now. Perhaps he had mistaken what he had seen between his cousin and George Wickham. Richard was not fool enough to trust the man, not after all that had happened between them.

"You do look a little pale," Georgiana remarked, in a sharp tone, her eye blazing with annoyance that Darcy still refused to voice his opinion and instead left all the work of persuasion to her. "I think it only proper we go back to Netherfield and leave calling anywhere until tomorrow."

This was enough to jerk Bingley out of his stupor and he straightened, looking first at Georgiana and then Darcy, his brows knitting with confusion as he considered the explanation he had only half-heard.

"My brother is a little unwell," Georgiana offered, mercifully holding off from a second kick when Darcy hurriedly rearranged his features into a pathetic pallor. "And so I suggest we go straight home again." She stifled a yawn Darcy was not entirely sure was a fabrication. "I am tired, and I have no doubt you must be exhausted, for our journey from London was hurried." She laid a hand on Charles' arm and looked at him imploringly. "Don't let's call at Longbourn today. Better to leave it tomorrow, when we might be fresh and cheerful."

"Cheerful?" Charles was bitter. He scowled at the flowers that lay safely wrapped in paper on the seat opposite him. "I wish to get to the bottom of things. To find out for myself if Jane still cares."

"Of course. And you will." Georgiana paused, frowning a little while her mind hurried to think up an alternative course of action that might persuade Charles Bingley to obedience. "You might write a note, and send it with the flowers. It is kinder to prepare her for an interview, don't you think?"

Darcy held his breath, marvelling at his ingenue sister's ability to so manoeuvre the hearts and minds of gentlemen. Had Georgiana always been so cunning? Or is it a skill she learned from her dalliance with George Wickham? He was a little unnerved, even though he knew she worked for good in this instance and was succeeding far better than he would at managing Charles's mood.

"I might write her a note." Charles nodded, slowly, as if coming to see the wisdom in this plan. "And send the flowers on ahead." He paused. "Yes, I think - I think that would be best. We can call tomorrow, and then she will have had time to consider her answer. I do not wish to put her on the spot."

He glanced up at Darcy, looking a little like his old self once more.

"You do look pale, Darcy. I hope you aren't coming down with something."

"I am sure I will recover myself with a quiet evening at home," Darcy said, struggling not to smile at the expert way Georgiana had managed things.

"You will help me write to her, Georgie, won't you?" Bingley turned to her, his voice trembling with hope. "She must understand - I must make her understand - what she means to me. It was only because she did not know it, I'm sure..."

"If you want my help." Georgiana blushed, looking away from him quickly and Darcy frowned, wondering if he saw what he fancied he saw in his sister's blue eyes.

"I don't suppose I should blame Colonel Fitzwilliam," Bingley remarked, after a moment of tense silence had settled once more over the carriage. "After all, I wished to marry Jane the first moment I laid eyes on her. I can hardly blame him for feeling the same. And if he did not know -"

"Precisely!" Georgiana said, quickly. She darted a hopeful smile in Darcy's direction before throwing all her weight behind this way of thinking. "It is all a confusion of poor timing, I am sure of it. Nothing that cannot be remedied." She smiled. "We will begin as soon as we get home to Netherfield so that the flowers might be sent at once. And then we shall put the matter by and try to enjoy our evening." She bit her lip. "Perhaps Caroline can be persuaded to play for us."

"I should much rather you play," Bingley remarked, smiling a little guiltily at such a show of partiality. "Although you mustn't say so to Caroline."

"We might play a duet," Georgiana said, with more loyalty to the absent Miss Bingley than she perhaps deserved.

"A duet." Bingley nodded, smiling once more at Georgiana before turning to peer out of the window at the passing scenery.

Georgiana's eyes strayed to Darcy's and a wordless conversation took place between brother and sister.

Another crisis averted, her tentative smile said. For now.