Although there were more people in the Hursts’ carriage than there had been in the Gardiners’, the conversation was less fluent.

Mr. Bingley was usually the one to comment on everything, from the lively ladies attending the assembly to the superior savour of the white soup. But, for once, he seemed to be quite out of spirit. The evening had not been as successful as he had hoped it. True he had danced twice with Jane and he had been able to converse with her between almost every set but she had danced with so many other gentlemen… He had never felt jealousy before and the suffering caused by its arrows painfully surprised him. He had realised then and there that he had still not fully regained his confidence in Jane’s regard for him, and his main chance to set his mind at ease had been lost for that evening.

Mr. Darcy was as un-talkative as usual. During the ball, he had danced even less than normally. He had probably spoken more than he was wont to but it had been sweet poison. Try as he might, he had not been able to get out of his mind his ‘encounter’ in the winter garden. Try as he might, he was not able to make up his mind and forget her. And, worse of all, Bingley’s silence reminded him painfully that he had not acted as the best of friends in the course of the evening. True it had not been a deliberate action, but the result was that although the carriage should have been jolting because of Bingley’s jubilation, it was as quiet as a church… I shall try and find a moment before I go back home to apologise to Bingley… poor man…

Miss Bingley was strangely silent. When she should have commented on the poor taste of the ladies who had been the success of the evening, she was silent. When she should have commented on the low connections of the Bennet sisters, she was silent. When she should have been sneering at Miss Eliza’s … everything, she was silent. The fact was that Miss Bingley was strangely thinking! And her thoughts were blacker than any ever in her life. She had felt strongly when Mr. Darcy had favoured Miss Eliza over her for the first set. She had been painfully aware that Mr. Darcy had not danced once with her in the course of the evening. And that pain had grown excruciating with each of his conversations with her. She had been observing him for so long that she could almost read him. And such a book was most certainly not one to give her sweet dreams. In spite of what she knew she was, of the world she belonged to, of her connections and her accomplishments, of her suitability as a wealthy gentleman’s wife, she had read in his behaviour that she had lost. More exactly, she had read that Miss Eliza had won; in spite of everything she was not, she had won… Of course she had not let one glimpse of this sorrow escape her, of course her ‘friends’ had heard the same critical and ironical Caroline they so ‘liked’. Of course she was trying not to shed a tear in this crowded carriage, where she felt his presence and heard his sighs. But pretending in a light conversation she could no longer and thus, was silent.

Mrs Hurst was the only one to be aware of all those unusual happenings. Even Mr. Hurst was not behaving as usual. He had been with her most of the evening, had even danced with her twice and she could feel the toe of his shoe seeking hers in the darkened carriage. This was the only oddity she didn’t find worrying. When the carriage arrived in Grosvenor Street, she suggested that Mr. Darcy use it to get to Holland Park Avenue.

“Actually, I’d have a word with you, Bingley, if you don’t mind.”

Mr. Bingley was startled out of his reverie. “Um… yes…I mean… no… Of course, come in, we’ll have some port! Hurst, do you mind?”

“Um… no, no, please…” An astonished Louisa watched her husband end clumsily. “I won’t join you though…”

This changed somehow her plans. Well, ‘tis probably not the best for Caroline but she’ll wait until tomorrow for confessing what’s upsetting her!

“So Darcy, port?”

“Well, brandy actually if you don’t mind… And Bingley…bring the decanter, will you?”

The two gentlemen were alone in the library. Either Miss Bingley or Mr. and Mrs. Hurst had retired very quickly to their rooms. But the Hursts’ resolved steps had had nothing to compare to Caroline’s withdrawn attitude.

“The whole decanter, Darcy? Man, what is the matter?”

Mr. Darcy waited his companion’s settling in the armchair across the hearth before answering. He took a heavy breath and began. “Actually Bingley, I’m more than ashamed of myself… I acted against your happiness once again and I beg you to forgive me.”

“Good G-d, what did you do this time?” Bingley’s tone was unbelieving yet upset.

“Oh I did nothing purposely… In fact, my intent at first was even the opposite. But the result is that you didn’t propose and you’ve kept on sulking the whole evening…”

Bingley had immediately quietened and then blushed at his friend’s answer. “I didn’t sulk… I’ve had delightful moments with Jane…”

“But you couldn’t propose because you found Elizabe… Miss Elizabeth and I arguing… So you’re not as happy as you could be!”

“True, Darcy, true… Well, I’ll call on her tomorrow and hopefully will find a moment to speak privately to her. The greenhouse was perfect for that, but….” Bingley’s tone was still slightly despondent.

After a small silence, Darcy renewed his excuses. “I’m really sorry, Charles. The least I can do is try and help you if I can…”

“Please, Darcy, do not! You’ve helped me quite enough!” His smile denied somehow the harshness of his words.

Darcy chuckled softly. “I deserve it, I suppose… In fact, I was thinking that I could come with you tomorrow. If the weather is fine, you could suggest a walk. I suppose Miss Elizabeth would have to join you anyway… I could walk with her and you’d certainly be able to outstrip us…”

His look met Bingley’s incredulous stare. “Well, that is… just a possibility!”

“It suits me, Darcy! It suits me! I only hope the weather will be fine!”

The gentlemen sat silent sipping their brandy. The decanter remained untouched by Bingley’s side.

Once the next day scheme had been defined, Charles’s thoughts wandered around his Jane and what had really happened this night. He would not share those with his friend but the evening had not been such a waste… If he was not mistaken, and experience showed that he usually was not where Jane was concerned, she had felt for him some of the passion he felt for her. He had not dwelled on this too much while leading her to the greenhouse for fear of utterly failing in his proposal. But he had been hopeful that her consent could have been accompanied by even sweeter attentions. I’m afraid Darcy’s idea will give us less chance for that than the dark shades of the winter garden… Why was he there with Miss Elizabeth anyway? And arguing of all things? He meant to help me, did he say?

“Darcy?”

The said gentleman almost leapt from in his seat, as lost he had been in his gloom.

“Sorry to startle you, but there’s something I wish to know…”

“Yes, Bingley?”

“Why exactly were you in the greenhouse with Miss Elizabeth? I know how proper you always are and this private interview doesn’t fit at all with your character… You said earlier that you meant to help me… I don’t get it!”

“Um… Well, you see… Bingley… Eli… Miss Elizabeth holds a grudge against me… She… I think it comes from Hertfordshire… She was friend with Wickham… Moreover she guessed what role I played in separating you and Miss Bennet… Whatever the reasons, every time she and I speak, it ends in a quarrel…”

“I still don’t understand… No offence Darcy, but I don’t understand how one of the most cold-blooded person I’ve ever known can end quarrelling. And moreover with a lady.”

Witnessing his friend’s wincing and his unwillingness to answer, he went on. Although he had started randomly, he seemed to find sense in his rambles… “I don’t understand it unless I see it from another point of view… I can understand why she holds a grudge against you, she was probably ill-informed by Wickham, the relationship she and Jane share is very special, you were particularly aloof all the time while we were at Netherfield and you and she seemed to always have had particular intercourses… The question is why you allowed those intercourses with her… The question is why you feel so deeply when she’s concerned… In fact, the question is why her opinion matters when no other does!”

Bingley was intently thinking but paid also great attention to Darcy’s behaviour. And the signs he could read in his friend’s countenance tended to prove that he was in the right! His look was as blank as it could be, his jaw was clenched, and his hands were tightly gripping his now empty glass. Charles decided that was the first step to take, he took the decanter, refilled a little his glass and generously poured brandy in his friend’s. This, at last, drew a reaction from Darcy… His look focused on his hands and he nodded his thanks.

Bingley went back to his armchair but instead of collapsing in it –as the late hour would have allowed him to – he sat leaning towards his friend, as if to put more emphasis in his next sentence. “Fitzwilliam, do you care?”

At first, he thought that Darcy wouldn’t answer him. His knuckles were now white on his glass. Darcy had not moved. Eventually he slowly lifted his look and encountered Bingley’s. The latter saw him mouthing a “Yes” and draining in one movement his glass. Then Darcy’s head returned to his usual straight position and he steadily voiced his previous agreement.

“Yes Charles, I care. I love her. She’s bewitched me almost at first sight. And every time I met her afterwards, I fell deeper under her spell. I fought this admiration as hard as I could but in vain I have struggled. I can’t stop thinking of her. I can’t stop admiring her. I can’t stop loving her.”

Bingley let a surprised “Whooh” escape. He had never seriously sought an explanation to Darcy’s strange behaviour around Miss Elizabeth and, although his conclusion had seemed consistent, his friend’s confession had taken him by surprise. Only the crackling of the fire broke the silence in the room. Darcy had gone back to stillness but suddenly presented his glass to his friend who absentmindedly poured some more brandy. Darcy only nurtured it.

Bingley sipped some of his glass, as to raise his courage, and went further in his friend’s soul.

“And what will you do, now?”

“Nothing!” The reply came immediately.

“Why?” Bingley shot back.

“Why?” Darcy was surprised by the question. He hadn’t thought Bingley - even the new Bingley – would challenge him.

“Yes, why? You told me yourself your struggle was in vain. Why do you repress your feelings any longer? Because, sometimes, some members of her family may have an improper behaviour?”

“G-d d-mn it! Why does everyone keep saying that to me?”

The force of his voice astounded Bingley as much as the swearing. His amazement showed on his face.

Darcy swallowed his glass, almost smashed it on the side-table and hid his face in his hands.

”I’m sorry Bingley… It’s just that… it was the cause why Eliz…” He abruptly looked up. Seeing his friend’s nod, he sighed and went on. “Elizabeth and I were arguing tonight… She… Anyway, I live far enough… And… What the H-ll am I saying? I will do nothing!” His voice was almost a shout.

“Why?” Bingley’s tone matched his. “Because of her family connections? What do you care about one uncle being in trade and the other an attorney? What do you care about her having no dowry? Remember who you are? Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley! Ten thousands a year! What do you care?”

Darcy abruptly stood up, went angrily towards where his friend was sitting and reached… to take hold of the decanter. Then, he went back to his side of the chimney place and splashed the spirit in his glass. He remained standing, presenting his back to his friend. Bingley had been almost frightened by his move but was ready to do whatever it may take to help him. If fighting had been needed, then fought he would have. He watched him take a heavy breath and waited for him to renew the conversation. Darcy’s voice was more sedate.

“Can I rejoice in the inferiority of her connections? Can I congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?" At last he turned, sat back in his armchair and took his glass once again. His voice was almost a murmur by then. “I will do nothing.”

Bingley whispered back: “Why? You love her, Fitzwilliam. You’ve been helplessly in love with her for almost as long as I with Jane. You’ve been suffering for much longer than I. Why? You love her, Fitzwilliam. She’s beautiful, she’s witty, she’s a gentlewoman. And you love her, Fitzwilliam. Why would you do nothing?”

None of them was hearing the crackling of the fire any longer. The silence seemed almost deafening.

“I will…” Darcy’s look was haggard. “I will…” His voice was exhausted. “I will try...”

Some hope pierced in Bingley’s determined voice. “You will woo her.”

A derisive chuckle escaped his friend’s mouth. “Will I?”

“You’ll have to put all your resolve in this endeavour. You’ll have to be as strong-willed as Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley is used to be. But you’ll have to listen to your heart too. And you’ll have to try and hear hers…”

“Such a challenge!”

Bingley smiled broadly. He had done it! He had changed the mind of the most inflexible soul he knew, the mind he admired the most… He’d have his best friend for brother. “You certainly have a long way to go, but you’ll do it!”

Darcy eventually returned his smile. “Well, I should probably be going. You have an eventful day awaiting you tomorrow.” He stood up and swayed on his feet. “Oh… I really had brandy, didn’t I? I hope the carriage is still here…”

“Have a good night, Darcy.”

“Thank you, Bingley, have a good night too.” He went to the door and turned one last time before exiting. “And, Charles… Thank you.”

Bingley only waved away his friend’s gratefulness. Indeed, he had one of the most important days of his life awaiting him. He was not really anxious about her answer; everything in her behaviour had been proclaiming her agreement. He was a little bit more anxious about not finding an occasion. But Darcy would be with him and would do everything in his power to give him the occasion. The topic that caused him the most anguish was still the proposal by itself, but he had done the best he could and really felt too tired to try and improve it further.

With a yawn, he stood up, smiled softly on noticing that he didn’t sway as much as Darcy had and heavily went to his rooms.

Indeed, the carriage had still been there when Darcy had exited the Hursts’. But he had barely noticed it. He also barely noticed the short way to Holland Park Avenue. He went in a haze from the carriage to the door of his house, from the door of his house to his dressing-room, from his dressing-room to his bed. But alcohol was not the cause of this haze. Love was not the cause of his haze neither. He was overpowered by the resolution he had taken. The weight on his shoulders had not been lifted at all. He even had a heavier load now to carry. He had his future happiness in his own hands but his game was really a poor one. And he had never been such a player…

His gloom was on the verge of making him renounce when, as usual, he started to think of her while lying on his bed. He had long given up the wish to hunt those thoughts down. He was a man and she was a woman… He was a man in love and she was the woman he loved…How could he not have those thoughts? But something was different that night; something he had tried to occult since it had happened but which had roamed in his mind ever since and which suddenly washed back over him. He had held her… Precisely she had held him. And he had kissed her… And she had not jerked away… well not at once, that is… Could he forsake the chance of renewing the feeling he had felt there? Could he relinquish the possibility of winning her? Could he give up the hope of making her feel as he had felt there? No I cannot. I love her. I’ll always love her. “I love you Elizabeth Bennet, and I will woo you!”

Only his darkened canopy witnessed this resolution, but the whole world would witness its effects. And Elizabeth Bennet would feel its effect.

Sow Potatoes, See What you Shall Reap, Chapter 20