Chapter 15
Caroline Bingley wanted to make sure she looked her best for the call at Darcy House.
Based on the fact her brother had said that Mr Darcy had specifically invited her, she was sure that the reason for the summons was that Mr Darcy was finally ready to offer for her.
In the past, she always accompanied Charles, even when her name had not been specified in the invitation.
She would have much preferred to have been the mistress of Pemberley and Darcy House for a few years already, but it was better late than never.
She would demand an engagement ball to be hosted, of course, by none other than her future aunt, Lady Matlock.
Being engaged to Mr Darcy and with an earl and countess as a future uncle and aunt, she would finally be able to put Miss Grantley, and all of those at the seminary who had looked down on her for her roots in trade, in their places.
Now she would be a leader of the Ton, and they would have to follow her.
She would agree to spend a month or two at Pemberley in the summer, but the rest of the time she would keep her husband in London.
In her mind’s eye, she could already visualise the changes she would make to Darcy House and the mansion at Pemberley.
To keep up with the current fashions, she would need to redecorate annually.
Thanks to Mr Darcy’s wealth, that would not be a problem.
Thinking of how rich he was, Miss Bingley allowed herself to imagine being able to order a new wardrobe three or four times a year.
Yes, those same ones who had rejected her would beg to be connected to her.
As much as Miss Bingley would have wanted to be fashionably late and make an entrance, she was aware that one did not do that when calling at Darcy House.
Once they were married, she would make sure Mr Darcy adopted her ideas about when one arrived.
Hence, Miss Bingley sailed into the drawing room at Hurst House five minutes before the time her brother had said they needed to depart.
She was wearing her latest orange creation.
The modiste had assured her it was the height of fashion.
She wore a wide bandeau on her head, orange to match her ensemble, with five dyed-to-match ostrich feathers inserted.
It was tight to hold the feathers in place, but Miss Bingley was willing to suffer the pain to be fashionable.
The Hursts and Bingleys made their way out of the house to the Bingley coach waiting for them on Curzon Street. Bingley handed in his sister. As he had suspected they would, her feathers caught on the door, and three of the five broke.
“Charles, how can you be so clumsy? Now I need to go and change,” Miss Bingley huffed.
“I suppose if you want to be late arriving at Darcy House, then go ahead. We will wait here for you,” Bingley replied. “It was not me who wore feathers too long to enter the conveyance easily.”
Being late was not an option. Miss Bingley was caught between two desires: to look her best or arrive on time.
“Caroline, allow me to remove the broken feathers. You will still achieve the effect you desire with only two feathers,” Mrs Hurst placated. “Just be very careful when you alight at Darcy House.”
As the need to arrive on time was more pressing, Miss Bingley reluctantly agreed.
The men entered and sat on the rear-facing bench. As soon as the door was closed, Bingley struck the ceiling, and the coach was pulled into motion by the two sets of matched greys.
In the meanwhile, Mrs Hurst removed the broken feathers and repositioned the remaining two to the front of the bandeau.
“Caro, I promise you that you look just as well with two feathers as you did with five,” Mrs Hurst assured her sister.
As she could not stand up to Caroline, Louisa told Caroline what the younger Bingley wanted to hear, not the truth.
In her opinion, Caroline was overdressed for an afternoon call, and rather than impress Mr Darcy, she suspected the opposite would be true.
Another thing Louisa would never tell her sister was that she believed that not only would Mr Darcy never offer for Caroline, but he did not even enjoy her company.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Lydia Bennet was performing the chores she had been assigned at St Mary’s convent when she felt the cramping she had experienced each month just before her courses arrived.
She lifted her eyes to the heavens. ‘God, if these are my courses, I will be ever so good for the rest of my life. I will never flirt with another man, and I swear no one will gain my favours until I marry.’ Lydia paused her prayer as she realised something.
‘If a man is ever interested in me, I will have to tell him what I did. If he rejects me for not being pure, that will be part of the cost of my stupid actions.’
In the past, the cramps would begin two days before the commencement of her courses.
It would be a very long two days while she waited to see if they began.
How she hoped they would, so she could write to Mama and tell her the good news, if Sister Agnes approved.
She had not received a reply to her first letter yet.
The youngest Bennet was under no illusions.
Even if her courses began like she prayed they would, she would remain at the convent for the full five months.
It was just, because she should pay penance for her reprehensible behaviour.
Even though Mama and Papa tried to accept the blame for what she had done, Lydia knew that there was only one to blame—herself.
With her changed character, Lydia also prayed that Hanna and Emma would not be afflicted with having to carry the late libertine’s children. She could not be fully happy until the girls, who had become her fast friends, were free of carrying the devil’s spawn.
When she thought about how they joined the nuns at prayer three times a day, Lydia had to smile. It was ironic that she used to tease Mary for her Godly behaviour and recitation of the scriptures, and now she was in chapel more each day than Mary would be each week.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
When the Bingleys and Hursts were shown into the drawing room, Mr Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Miss Darcy awaited them.
Seeing who was there only served to bolster Miss Bingley’s opinion that she was about to become engaged to Mr Darcy. She approached Mr Darcy before a word had been said, intent on claiming his arm.
“Miss Bingley, I am not sure how it is among the circle of tradesmen’s offspring, but among my circles when arriving at someone’s house, greetings are exchanged first,” Darcy stated disdainfully. “Also, are you aware how crass it is to take a gentleman’s arm when it has not been offered to you?”
Caroline Bingley froze in mid-step. This was not what she had imagined. Why did Mr Darcy seem angry? What had Charles done? She would never forgive him if he had blasted her prospects with Mr Darcy.
As soon as Mrs Hurst heard Mr Darcy’s tone of voice, she was sure that the very last thing he intended to do was to offer for Caroline.
She looked at her husband, who had an amused smirk on his face, then she looked at Charles, who was taken aback.
Whatever the aim of the meeting was, Charles had not been made aware of it ahead of time.
Something had changed. In the past, even though he did not like Caroline, Mr Darcy tolerated her. It seemed those days were over.
“Bingley, I am sorry if the way I spoke to Miss Bingley was not the most polite. I have to be direct now, as she ignores everything else. I have in the past, multiple times mind you, given her every type of hint to the truth of my feelings for her I could think of while still remaining polite. I attempted, and it seems in this I failed, to indicate my lack of interest in her as anything more than the tolerated sister of my friend. However, your sister has refused to see what is obvious to everyone else with eyes.” Darcy turned to a shocked Miss Bingley.
“Madam, you have nothing to tempt me. I am in no humour, now or ever, to give consequence to a young lady who is an inveterate social climber and fortune hunter. You had better look to men in your own social circle, for you are wasting your time with me.”
“But why? I would make the perfect mistress of Darcy House and Pemberley. I was educated at the best seminary and have a dowry of twenty thousand pounds. I have the best sense of fashion, and I am elegance personified,” Miss Bingley claimed.
“Fashion sense. Do not make me guffaw. Anyone with eyes could tell how badly that monstrosity you are wearing suits you,” Fitzwilliam stated as he fought to maintain his equanimity.
“Miss Bingley, are you aware that the gentry, and all but impoverished members of the first circles, educate their daughters at home?” Darcy refuted.
“Based on what you have learnt of how to be a lady, the money spent on that seminary was a waste because it only taught you how to be a spiteful, vicious, gossiping shrew, and termagant. No one like you will ever be my wife. However, there is one more important trait I require which you do not have at all.”
“And what is that?” Miss Bingley ground out. There was no need to be deferential any longer now that her dream of being Mrs Darcy had become dust.
“Honesty, Miss Bingley. Do I need to remind you of an evening at Netherfield Park when I said, ‘Disguise of every sort is my abhorrence’? Do you think I would ever accept a woman who prevaricates as easily as she breathes?” Darcy enquired.
“But I have never told you an untruth, Mr Darcy,” Miss Bingley insisted.