Bingley groaned as he settled into the chair beside Darcy and took a sip of tea. “Tea in Canada simply does not compare,” he said with a smile.
Darcy nodded. “I wish we had some of the cake from that shop in Montreal.”
“Mmm. Yes.”
After disembarking from the ship at a later hour than they would have liked, they had stumbled into Darcy House past midnight. Fortunately, Darcy had written ahead, and his staff had prepared the house for their arrival.
He took another bite of egg, although he was not particularly hungry. Today would be a busy day. His steward would be arriving from Pemberley, and they would spend hours reacquainting Darcy with the business of the estate. Before that, however, he would have an even more important meeting which he anticipated with both excitement and trepidation.
“Is Georgiana still abed?” Bingley asked.
“I saw no need to wake her.”
“I wish I received the same consideration,” Bingley grumbled good-naturedly.
“No doubt your sisters will arrive any minute. I could not allow you to loll about in bed one more minute.” A messenger had been sent to the Hursts’ townhouse very early, and Darcy knew Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would be eager to share the latest on dits. He experienced a pang of regret; Bingley would be leaving them to stay with his sisters. Darcy and Georgiana had relished his company on their travels.
Bingley sighed and pushed around the eggs on his plate. “I expect I shall receive another lecture about how irresponsible it was for me to gallivant off to North America.”
Darcy grimaced. “At least you have had more practice in saying no to them.” They had criticized Bingley’s decision in every letter. No doubt Bingley would have collapsed int
o scribbling abject apologies if Darcy had not stiffened his spine. But being on his own had been good for his friend. Bingley had grown far more decided and sure of his tastes when he was away from his sisters’ influence.
“It shall be quite trying when I relocate to Grosvenor Square,” Bingley mused.
“You are welcome to remain at Darcy House for as long as you like,” Darcy remarked. “It is no imposition.”
Bingley straightened up in his chair. “I may accept that offer.” Darcy knew his sisters would not like it, but obviously Bingley was willing to risk their wrath.
Briggs, the butler, entered the room and announced, “Miss Bingley, sir. And Mr. and Mrs. Hurst.”
Bingley sighed deeply, not like a man pleased to be reunited with his family after a year and a half. Both men stood as the three visitors entered.
The two women gave their brother perfunctory kisses on the cheek, and the men exchanged handshakes. The newcomers helped themselves to breakfast from the sideboard and settled into chairs around the table. Darcy and Bingley talked a little about the details of their trip, but the sour expression on Miss Bingley’s face and the disapproving purse of Mrs. Hurst’s lips suggested they were not particularly interested in that subject. Mr. Hurst was primarily interested in the kippers.
When the weight of disapproval had caused the conversation to wane, Bingley gamely asked, “So, what is the news, eh?”
“You would know if you had ever bothered to write,” Miss Bingley answered tartly.
“I did write.”
His sister rolled her eyes. “I declare it was not above four times! I am overwhelmed by your fraternal devotion. And, of course, the letters were short, dashed-off affairs.”
Bingley rubbed his forehead. “I am a poor correspondent. I acknowledge it, but I am here now. What have I missed?”
This was all the encouragement his sisters needed to launch into twenty minutes of gossip, primarily about people Darcy did not know or could not care about. Eighteen months of freedom from the obligations of the ton had not endeared him to the social whirl, although he supposed he should pay more attention now that Georgiana would be launched in society. Still, he found himself thinking longingly of Pemberley.
His absence had apparently not dimmed Miss Bingley’s hopes of Darcy, for she still addressed the better part of her remarks directly to him, although he had not asked her any questions.
There was only one person he would consider inquiring about, and he did not dare. Fortunately, Bingley unwittingly assisted him in this endeavor. “What is the news from the Bennet family? You did not mention them in any of your letters.” He leaned forward in his seat.
Miss Bingley blinked. “Why should I?”
“You are Jane Bennet’s friend.”
His sister fluttered her hands. “Friends, Charles? Certainly we were acquainted, but friends…” She gave Mrs. Hurst a sidelong look.
Mrs. Hurst actually giggled. “It is for the best if we do not acknowledge the connection. Thank goodness you gave up the lease on Netherfield!”