Page 8 of What to do with Fitzwilliam Darcy?

Jane poured them both tea while Charles began to explain what had happened. She had hoped he might omit some of the more mortifying details, particularly those involving Elizabeth's opinion of Mr Darcy's eyelashes, but Charles had never possessed much talent for selective storytelling. By the time he had reached the point at which Elizabeth had drunk far too much wine, accused Mr Darcy of hating her and then been carried upstairs in his arms, Georgiana was pink with embarrassment and Colonel Fitzwilliam had requested something stronger than tea.

When Charles finally stopped speaking, the colonel sat back and swirled the brandy in his glass, considering them both. "So Miss Bennet believes Darcy cannot stand the sight of her, Darcy appears to believe the feeling is entirely mutual and your solution was to place them opposite one another at dinner and hope matters sorted themselves out over Beef Wellington."

Jane winced. "When you put it like that, it does sound rather foolish. We just thought that a little civilised conversation, a good dinner, would begin to… well, thaw relations."

"It seemed like a sensible plan of action yesterday," said Charles.

"Unfortunately, my dear Bingleys, it is becoming apparent that neither of you have experience in planning military campaigns."

Georgiana lowered her face towards her teacup, and Jane could see the beginnings of a smile. Jane herself felt less amused. She had slept badly, troubled by the memory of Elizabeth's hurt expression and the awful certainty that she had pushed her sister into a situation she had not been ready to face.

"We truly thought that if they were simply together again, they might realise things were not as bad as they believed," she said. "Instead, Lizzie became overwhelmed, and I fear Mr Darcy was equally unhappy. I have never seen two people work quite so hard to misunderstand one another."

Colonel Fitzwilliam was quiet for some moments after that, his expression losing the last of its amusement as he looked from Jane to Charles and then towards Georgiana. He seemed to be turning the whole unfortunate evening over in his mind, weighing what they knew against what both Darcy and Elizabeth appeared determined to believe. At last he settled back in his chair and gave a small sigh. "I think we may safely say that subtlety has done very little for us so far. Darcy has spent months persuading himself that Miss Bennet cannot bear the sight of him, while Miss Bennet has apparently done much the same in the opposite direction. If they are left entirely to themselves, I suspect they will continue avoiding one another with great dedication and become steadily more miserable in the process."

Jane folded her hands in her lap. "That is what I am afraid of. Last night only seemed to make everything worse."

"Perhaps," said the colonel. "But it also told us something useful. Miss Bennet is not indifferent to him, whatever else she may think, and Darcy's reaction hardly suggests a man who has ceased to care. The difficulty is that neither of them appears capable of speaking plainly while there is still an opportunity to escape the conversation, either on horseback or in the bottom of a bottle."

Georgiana looked at him with growing suspicion. Jane suspected she knew her cousin too well not to recognise the start of some scheme. "Richard, what are you planning?"

He smiled then, though not quite reassuringly. "I am beginning to think it is time to bring out the big guns."

Charles, who had been listening with interest, sat forward at once. "What precisely are the big guns?"

"Something a little more effective than dinner and getting soused."

Jane gave him a wary look. "And what does that mean?"

"It means," said Fitzwilliam, rising at last, "that I think our two stubborn friends require an opportunity to speak to one another without anyone interrupting or giving either of them an easy excuse to retreat."

Jane was not entirely convinced by this, particularly when the colonel's smile deepened. "You are not going to do anything dreadful?"

"My dear Mrs Bingley, I have every intention of being the saviour of the greatest matchmaking disaster Hertfordshire has ever seen."

✽✽✽

The four co-conspirators stood at the foot staircase at Netherfield Park. Neither Darcy nor Elizabeth had emerged from their rooms that morning, both having taken trays in their chambers to break their fast.

"Now, does everyone know their parts?" said Colonel Fitzwilliam in a commanding tone that Jane thought must have sent new recruits quivering in their boots.

"Yes, Colonel," said her husband, bringing his hand to his head in a salute. "I shall man the library."

"Very good, Bingley. And Georgiana?"

Georgiana pulled herself a little straighter and looked at her cousin squarely. "Yes, Richard. I shall see to Fitzwilliam. I am on my way now." With that, she scampered up the stairs, holding her skirts so that she could move more quickly.

"And Mrs Bingley." Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to Jane. "Creator of the finest tea trays in England. Do you feel ready?"

"I do not want to see my sister upset again."

His features softened. "My dear Mrs Bingley, the last thing in the world I want to do is upset your sister. In fact, what I would desire most is to secure happiness for both her and my boneheaded cousin, who does not, in fact, deserve her. To do that, we must effect just one more deception. It is but a brief aberration of the truth that will bring about the happiness of many. Do you not think it is worth the effort?"

Jane chewed nervously on her bottom lip for a moment before her husband caught hold of her hands.

"Come on, Piglet," said Charles.

"Charles!"