Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Netherfield was unsettled. Since Darcy’s departure more than a se’nnight prior, Miss Bingley had persistently pressed her brother to forsake the lease and quit the neighbourhood altogether.
She disliked the country at the best of times and remained livid over Darcy’s abrupt departure—particularly the pointed words he had addressed to her before he left.
Her dissatisfaction had long since ceased to be subtle.
Bingley listened to her complaints with only half an ear, assuring her in his accustomed good humour that he had taken the estate for a full year and supposed it best to remain until the new year—at least for the present.
He spoke as though the matter were settled, yet without the steadiness that might truly have silenced her objections.
He did not look up as he spoke, nor did he press the matter further.
He had never been comfortable in opposition, and each renewed assurance sounded less like resolve than an effort to placate her. It only inflamed her further.
Unaccustomed to being disregarded, Miss Bingley’s displeasure grew both louder and more exacting.
Nothing at Netherfield met her approval.
Meals were criticised, the weather blamed, and the servants found perpetually at fault; indeed, that very morning her maid had been reduced to tears by her sharp rebukes.
Not even her sister’s attempts at conciliation availed, and while Mrs Hurst endeavoured to preserve a polite neutrality, Mr Hurst was as fixed as Bingley himself in remaining where they were.
At last, Miss Bingley’s restraint gave way. When her brother once again declined at breakfast to enter into a discussion of removing to London, she rose abruptly from her chair.
“I cannot endure this any longer,” she declared. “This place is insufferably dull, and I see no reason to remain when all that is of consequence is in town. I shall return to London immediately, and I demand that you accompany me.”
Mr and Mrs Hurst looked up from their end of the table, where they had been quietly conversing with each other, and watched the argument unfold.
“If that is your wish, my dear sister,” Bingley replied mildly, without lifting his eyes from the paper in his hands. “But as I have said often enough, I will not be going with you.”
He folded the newspaper with deliberate care, allowing himself a moment to consider what must follow. “You must find lodgings for yourself, and if you do not wish your reputation to suffer, you will require a companion.”
His words were pleasant enough, but a faint tightening about his mouth betrayed the effort they cost him.
Caroline’s eyes flashed. “Do not affect indifference, Charles. You know perfectly well that Mr Darcy is in London—or will be shortly—and I will not be left behind like a country cousin while everyone of importance is there. I shall call upon dear Miss Darcy and persuade her that she desires me for a sister. Mr Darcy will do anything his sister asks. If she insists that I should make him his perfect wife, he will doubtless agree.”
Bingley turned the page of his newspaper with unhurried care. “I have no intention of going at present,” he said pleasantly.
“But you must, of course, do as you think best. I would caution you, however, against calling at Darcy House. Darcy made his intention clear that he would return to Pemberley, not London—and he has forbidden you entry to all his properties. You would not be admitted, nor will you ever marry Darcy. Miss Darcy does not desire you for a sister, and Darcy would refuse on any account. You must get it through your head that Darcy will not marry you, regardless of what you think.”
The calm finality of his words did nothing to check her anger; rather, it stiffened her resolve. Miss Bingley drew herself up, every line of her figure rigid with affront.
“Very well,” she said at last, the word clipped and bitter.
She straightened her shoulders as though bracing herself for battle and fixed her brother with a hard stare.
“I still insist that you take me to London. If I am not to marry Mr Darcy, then I must begin at once to prepare for the season, so that I may secure a different husband. I am soon to be four-and-twenty; if I do not marry next year, I shall be quite upon the shelf.”
Bingley set aside the newspaper and looked at her fully at last. “You will be five-and-twenty,” he said evenly, disregarding her sharp sound of outrage, Mr Hurst’s quiet chuckle, and Mrs Hurst’s shocked gasp.
“Since I never invited you to Netherfield in the first place, you are free to go to London or to Bath as you choose—but I will not be going with you.” His tone remained polite, but there was no mistaking the decision beneath it.
“In Bath, you may be of consequence at very little expense which cannot be said of Mayfair. Your allowance, while generous, will not support a London house, nor do I intend to supplement it. A companion, too, will be far more easily secured in Bath.”
“Bath?” Miss Bingley cried, the word sharp with disbelief.
“I shall find no husband there. It is a resort for gouty old men and faded widowers who have nothing better to do than catalogue their ailments.” She swung her gaze towards the far end of the table, fixing the Hursts with an indignant stare.
“Louisa—surely you will not abandon me as well,” she pressed, her voice drawn tight as she addressed her sister, her fingers curling as though to hold herself steady.
“Come to London with me if Charles will not. Persuade Mr Hurst to open his townhouse so we may spend the winter there together. If Charles chooses to bury himself in this awful country home, then you may at least chaperone me to society. The invitations may lack some lustre without Mr Darcy in town,” she added bitterly, “but they would be preferable to being quite forgotten here.”
Mrs Hurst did not rise, nor did she mirror her sister’s agitation.
She folded her napkin with deliberate care before answering, her voice low and even.
“Mr Hurst and I are settled here. As you may recall, we closed the London townhouse at your own insistence only a few weeks ago, and I will not deny that I have found the quiet of the country agreeable. No—we will not return to London before February at the earliest and even then only for a short stay. We have discussed the matter and decided that we must spend some time at the Hurst family estate.” She lifted her eyes at last. “I agree with our brother. You may remain at Netherfield and make yourself pleasant, or we will assist you in finding a suitable companion so that you may live where you please.”
“On your upcoming birthday, your dowry will come into your own control since Father’s will left it to you upon your twenty-fifth birthday or your marriage, whichever came first,” Bingley interjected, setting his cup aside.
“As Louisa has said, we discussed this carefully over the past few days. With Darcy refusing to acknowledge you any longer, we thought it might be best if you removed yourself to Bath—or even to visit our family in Scarborough—if you do not wish to remain here as you have continually stated. I had hoped to make myself better acquainted with my neighbours, yet you have been unwilling to host them at Netherfield.”
He winced inwardly at his own bluntness but did not retract it.
Miss Bingley’s expression sharpened, and she drew breath to reply.
“Miss Bennet is nothing but a—” she began.
Bingley raised a hand, stopping her. “Caroline, pray do not speak ill of Miss Bennet—or of any of my neighbours,” he said rather more sternly than he was used to doing.
“I confess that I do not yet know Miss Bennet particularly well, but I have enjoyed her company whenever I have been in it. If I were to follow my inclinations and marry her, it might be best that you were not present, since you seem either unwilling or unable to keep your opinions on her family to yourself. I am aware of her family and her connexions, but as I am myself only lately removed from trade, I hardly see what right I have to criticise.”
His gaze moved briefly between his sisters. “Neither of you has been especially welcoming to the society here,” he continued, with an air of reluctant honesty.
Mrs Hurst appeared unsettled by his words as he continued.
“I should like to remain at Netherfield long enough to determine whether the neighbourhood suits me. Darcy has encouraged me to consider what I truly wish to do, and I thought I might at least attempt to be the master of a country estate. It was our father’s wish, and I cannot say I have done much thus far to fulfil it. ”
He paused, then added, somewhat awkwardly, “For what it is worth, I have not yet decided upon Miss Bennet. I mean only to spend more time in her company before I act. You have been unwilling to host the residents of Meryton in my home, but Louisa has agreed to arrange a dinner, and she might be persuaded to host a few smaller entertainments as well.”
Miss Bingley looked from her brother to her sister, searching each face in turn. Her gaze then slid to Mr Hurst, who remained pointedly absorbed in his breakfast, intent upon his plate as if nothing of interest were being discussed. Her mouth tightened.
“Very well. I will go to Bath,” she said at last. Though her chin lifted in habitual hauteur, there was an edge of resignation beneath it.
“I know too well what awaits me in Scarborough.” She paused, then added, with forced composure, “I shall require some assistance, Charles. You must tell me precisely what I may expect to spend on lodgings and whatever else will be necessary if I am not to have any support from you.”