On exiting the warehouse, Mr. Bingley was disoriented. He had lived and learned so many things in so little time that he felt the need for comfort. He knew he had a hard time in front of him because of the confrontation he was to have with his sister but he had to recover his strength first. He made up his mind and asked his coachman to take him to his club.

He went automatically to the place where he and Darcy were used to gather and, of course, the latter was there, reading a newspaper. He ordered his brandy and, although he was unsure on what he was willing to tell his friend regarding the morning events, he sat down and bid him good day.

“Hello, Bingley. What are you doing here? I thought I wouldn’t see you until much later. Didn’t you have an appointment with your plant reseller?” Darcy answered, folding his newspaper. Then he looked at his friend and asked, slightly upset.

“Are you all right, Charles? You look dreadful, as if you had seen a ghost!” On saying those words, a very annoying reason of that look popped up in his mind. He tried to put it aside and waited for his companion’s answer. It was some time before it came.

“A ghost! It was worse than a ghost. A ghost doesn’t shout at you, a ghost doesn’t cry when you reply to it, a ghost doesn’t have an uncle who tell you the horrible truth you had been hidden from.”

Darcy couldn’t make sense of that speech. His doubtful feature motioned Bingley to go on and be more explicit.

“I’ve met Miss Bennet today, here, in London.” And then, he related the whole argument, including her narrative of the meetings with his sister, of his ‘flight’ from Netherfield, of her feeling of deception; including his answer regarding his feelings for her while over there and his understanding of her deception. “By then, she was crying loudly and she fled from the warehouse.”

Darcy, although feeling slightly ill-at-ease regarding the concealment of Miss Bennet’s stay in London, was quite proud of his friend. It’s the first time Bingley has shown he could resist an artful lady, my lessons have been well understood, indeed! But what was she doing in a warehouse? I thought she was above her siblings, well except her, but it would happen that the truth was worse than I thought!

“As you can well imagined, I was still deep in shock and when her uncle started to scold me for my ‘undeserved reproach’…”

“Hold on, man! Her uncle?”

“Yes, her uncle! Mr. Gardiner! The tradesman from whom I’m buying my plants works for her uncle. Remember, her uncle… in trade… living in Cheapside…”

A light of understanding and amazement appeared in Darcy’s eyes.

“That man witnessed the whole confrontation! And afterwards he even went as far as saying to me that only his age prevented him from sending his witnesses to me!”

Darcy’s astonishment knew then no limit.

“Those people have no decency! But what did he tell you? How did you answer him? I hope you made him apologise!”

“Apologise? Apologise for what? Wait, you’ve not heard the whole story!” And he went on, telling Miss Bennet’s side of the story. And the farther he was going, the angrier he felt with his sister for the pain she had inflicted on his sweet Jane and himself. He wouldn’t even have thought to blame Darcy for his role in revealing Miss Bennet’s pseudo-scheme ‘cause he was completely unaware of his self-no confidence and of the power his friend had on him.

“And so, the truth is that you and my sisters were wrong, that Caroline ill-treated both Miss Bennet and myself and, as if it were not enough, I added to Miss Bennet’s sorrow by my unjust accusations.”

Darcy’s pride was hurt by the mention of an error his mind might have commit. Darcy’s pride had been hurting for a while by a memory that was lingering far too often and too strongly of a lady and her fine eyes. Darcy’s pride was shocked by the fact that his “pupil” was starting to think by himself, unexpectedly and in an opposite direction than his. Those reasons, among others, made his pride win over his reserve and he burst out a very loud:

“I was wrong?”

As every face in the room had turned to him, he lowered his voice and went on, contemptuously. “And pray, how would you know that? What argument did that man”, his tone was even more despising on that word, “present you that could annihilate the ones I presented to you in November? A man who was not even present when the whole affair took place! A man who, as a tradesman, is more likely to be lying than saying the truth!”

Bingley had started at the beginning of Darcy’s answer and was utterly shocked at the end. As it had happened during his discussion with Jane, his anger found a new recipient.

“Sir, I’d let you know that my father was a tradesman. And even if my sisters tend to forget it, I don’t and I’m very proud of what he achieved. Thanks to him, I was able to study and I can pretend to be a gentleman. I will never forget it and I defy anyone to insult a man only because he earns money honestly, instead of living on the money accrued by others.”

Darcy winced, understanding that he had been too far. Nevertheless, Bingley didn’t let him reply.

“As for the truth in his side of the story, I’m now convinced that it is the entire truth. Why would have she fled crying if she had not been painfully hurt by my words? You convinced me two months ago that she had merely answered to my attentions without returning them, would you now try to convince me that she is artful enough to start sobbing whenever she wants? I happen to be too gullible but I am fully confident in this case. Even if she didn’t love me as well as I did, back then, she loved me enough to be still sad a month after my leaving. And as long as she cared enough, did it really matter that she didn’t love me? I might have even led her to return fully my feelings?”

Bingley’s tone had lost some of its fury, as this feeling was really not in his nature and while speaking of his beloved, he could not but instilled tenderness in his voice. Darcy was at a loss as to what to reply. He could not but acknowledge some truth in his friend argumentation. Fortunately, the latter had not finished.

“And another fact fully proves that she was not answering positively my attentions for mercenary reasons back in Hertfordshire. She has been in town for almost as long as I, she has seen Caroline twice and she’s never thrown herself into my path. If she had been that interested, she would have found a way to meet me, Lord, we did have our share of outings since mid-December.” After a while, he added, anger coming back in his voice: “I really cannot forgive Caroline for her behaviour. Why did she conceal me that Miss Bennet was in town? Does she think herself so above a gentleman’s daughter because of some money her own father earned in trade? Can you find an explanation, Darcy?” His eyes were earnestly staring in his friend’s. And what he thought he saw there started to make him suspicious.

In fact, Mr. Darcy did feel more and more uncomfortable as the speech was going on, as his twitching his ring showed it. The concealment had been as much his idea as Miss Bingley’s. He tried to voice his reasons (although he clearly knew they were not hers). “She probably thought that knowing she was in town would have been very painful to you. You were really poorly in early December…”

Light was dawning in Bingley’s mind. He interrupted his friend curtly. “Come on Darcy. You are as aware as I that my sister didn’t resent my behaviour then. Hurst called you, for some of his own reasons, not Caroline. And had he not been for your help, I might still be drowned in wine.” Looking intently at him, he added: “But that would have been your reason, wouldn’t it?”

As Darcy’s jaw was firmly clenched and his demeanour sterner and sterner, he went on, accusingly: “Did you know, Sir, that Miss Bennet was in town? Did you purposely conceal it from me?”

By now, the speed of Darcy’s twitching was at its highest and one, not emotionally involved, could have wondered if his finger would not be soon detached from his hand. But Bingley was both too utterly dismayed and too deeply disappointed to find any humor in the situation. He waited for an answer, which finally came. “Yes I did. Miss Bingley informed me of the letters she has received and afterwards of Miss Bennet’s call. I was really upset, it had been quite a trial to get you out of your gloom. You seemed to finally react and regain some of your cheerful behaviour. I really thought that the knowledge of Miss Bennet’s presence in London would drag you down immediately.”

Bingley only understood the first part of Darcy’s answer. His world was crumpling. His friend, his mentor, the man who had replaced his father in his mind had been lying to him. The man who claimed that he abhorred deception had purposely deceived him. He could not, he would not listen to his reasons. His fists were clenched, two purple spots had appeared on his cheeks, his eyes were cold, his voice was low as he was beyond rage.

“Sir, I won’t let this conversation go on. I don’t care for your reasons, how am I to believe you now when you lied to me on the same subject? I perfectly remember your argumentation over Miss Bennet’s so-called deception. I am sure that those same reasons were prevalent in your decision of hiding her presence. I thank you, Sir, but you have said quite enough. I don’t think there is much to add.” He stood, as if to take his leave.

For once in his life and because he was deeply ashamed of some of his past behaviour in this matter, Darcy was at a loss for words. He didn’t downcast his eyes, his pride would not have allowed that. But he received Bingley’s reproach with humbleness, didn’t stand up and, for once, allowed his companion to tower over him. He knew something had been destroyed between them, he knew he had been the major actor in this destruction. He knew he would have to ask forgiveness if he wanted not to lose a friend. And, seeing Bingley then, he was not even sure forgiveness would be given. But he wouldn’t do it at the moment. It needed privacy and an ear somewhat disposed to hear it. Neither of those requirements was met. He eventually answered:

“Charles, I will obey your wish and stop this conversation for now. But I do wish you to believe that I thought only of your interest, at least in my mind, in the decisions I made. I also wish to end this conversation in a more private place soon; therefore I will call on you in the morning tomorrow. Or, if you wish, I will be at home tonight. I beg you not to make any harsh decision, though. Take, at least, this advice from me.” Eventually he stood. “I will let you leave now.” He bowed to Bingley who behaved likewise and obviously didn’t want to utter some other words, he then watched him left.

He sat heavily back in his armchair, ordered a Brandy in one sign, let his head fall back and closed his eyes. My God! What a mess! What did I do? What entered my mind? How did I allow myself to concealment and lie? Knowing that self-pitying wouldn’t help him, he straightened, took his glass and sipped it, staring into nothingness. Poor Bingley! I’m not sure he found the comfort he came here for. I’m sorry for that… I’m sorry for so many things… I certainly didn’t do him a favour. But it was all for him. How could I guess that Miss Bennet was honest? I have seen so many women trying to allure him into matrimony! He is so gullible! How could I know she was not toying with him? She didn’t show any sign of deep attachment, did she? And he is such a catch, all the more for such a family… What a family! The uncle in seeds trade! Well, at least, he might be of interest for Bingley! He seemed to have impressed him! But he was shocked, he spoke to him just after his quarrel with her. I wonder what’s happening in Cheapside… Did the uncle run back home to assure the niece that nothing was lost? But she did answer back, didn’t she? Maybe she changed her mind after all!

By then, his glass was empty and, as he didn’t think drinking would be of any help, he left and headed back to Holland Park Avenue* where his town house stood. All the way back, thoughts kept twirling in his head and he was more and more feeling that he would have many reasons to apologise to his friend.

* Author’s note: I don’t know of that street existed in early 19^th century in London but Miss Fielding settled Mark Darcy’s house there so I will gladly follow her!

Sow Potatoes, See What you Shall Reap, Chapter 7