Chapter 11
Dining Room
Netherfield Hall
The Next Day
Evening
27th December, 1811
Lady Bingley was all smiles and warmth and praise for her retiring, soft-spoken daughter-in-law, which did not in any way impair her autocratic tendency to run any household she could.
Georgiana was not assertive enough to wrest back the control of her own household from her domineering mother-in-law, or perhaps she merely did not wish to, content instead to rely upon the expertise of the older woman.
At any rate, if Netherfield Park was Caroline’s to oversee, she would manage it far differently than her mother.
Lady Bingley had not practiced economy since her husband’s knighting, as she was enormously proud of her new position and determined to have what she considered her due.
The dinner table was always laden with dishes of complexity and delicacy, often beyond what seemed reasonable for a mere family dinner.
Of all Lady Bingley’s shows of wealth and status, however, elaborate dinners were some of the least concerning, and Caroline had never felt the need to bring up objections to her mother over them.
In celebration of Caroline coming of age, the spread was even more expansive than usual today.
At very long last, she had finally attained her one and twentieth birthday, and her stomach roiled with nerves.
It was glorious to be of age, now in sole possession of her inherited fortune and free at last of Lady Bingley’s legal hold over her.
The very thought made her incandescent with happiness every time she remembered it.
On the other hand, it was no small thing to flout her own mother, and Caroline had the weight of experience to prepare her for Lady Bingley’s considerable displeasure when she actually announced the end of her engagement.
It would be an unpleasant scene and likely a loud one, and it would only get worse over the following days as Lady Bingley found that all her histrionics and persuasion and nagging would avail nothing to sway her younger daughter.
Darcy was a stolid wall of support at her side, his arm firm under her hand as they entered the dining room side by side, and Caroline was grateful for it.
Whatever her mother’s reaction, Darcy was glad to be released from an indifferently accepted engagement that had not touched his heart.
Caroline was doing the right thing, no matter the wishes of their now-deceased parents or her own living one.
She glanced down the table and seated herself as the rest of the party did so as well.
Louisa was upstairs in bed, suffering from yet another day of malaise and illness.
Though Caroline had only sympathy for her unwell sister, she was just as glad that Louisa had chosen not to try to join the family for this dinner.
The upcoming scene would do neither the delicate lady nor her child any good.
Charles Bingley waited until two manservants had poured wine for the guests and then withdrawn, and the door had closed, before lifting his glass of wine.
“Family and friends,” he said, “as you all know, today is Caroline’s birthday. Before we begin to eat, may I please make a toast to my dear younger sister?”
Caroline found herself blushing with embarrassed pleasure at these words as everyone else at the table turned toward her and lifted their glasses.
“To Caroline,” Charles said, and the others said, “Hear, hear!”
They all put their glasses to their lips and drank, and Caroline felt her determination waver. It was such a pleasant moment, with her family and friends celebrating her, and to throw a bombshell in their midst seemed cruel.
On the other hand, the sooner she broke off her engagement to Darcy, the sooner he would be available to start his own pursuit of a more compatible lady.
This gave her sufficient courage that fifty minutes later, when her mother began to rise to guide the ladies out of the dining room, she lifted a staying hand and said, “Please, Mamma and Georgiana, could you kindly wait for a minute. I have something important to say to everyone.”
Lady Bingley looked surprised and concerned, but she sat down, and Georgiana with her.
Caroline took a deep breath and turned her gaze on Darcy, who nodded and smiled at her slightly with encouragement.
“As you all know,” she said, “long ago, my father, formerly Mr. Bingley, later Sir John Bingley, rescued George and Fitzwilliam Darcy when brigands attacked their carriage. Because of my father’s heroism, old Mr. Darcy arranged that my father be knighted and also agreed that his son Charles would marry Georgiana Darcy, and that one of the Bingley daughters would marry Fitzwilliam Darcy. ”
Now Lady Bingley, who knew her younger daughter well, was scowling at her with obvious suspicion.
“What of it?” the older woman demanded. “You know that your poor father was shot in the arm and was in constant pain for the rest of his life. He deserved both his knighthood and the beneficial arrangements for his children.”
“Father was wonderful and heroic,” Caroline said immediately.
“I will never argue otherwise. He most certainly deserved every good thing that old Mr. Darcy bestowed upon him. The problem is that in the midst of all the planning between Sir John and George Darcy about future marriages, no one bothered to consider the opinions of the children in question. I am confident that Charles and Georgiana are very well suited, but Fitzwilliam and I are not, and now that I am one and twenty and in possession of my own fortune, I declare that our engagement is at an end. I will not marry Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.”
Silence fell, a thunderstruck silence, and Caroline found her eyes seeking Georgiana. The young matron’s mouth had dropped open a trifle, and her eyes were wide, but she seemed astonished as opposed to horrified.
“Your joke is in poor taste,” Lady Bingley said flatly, and a saccharine smile formed on her face, though her eyes were icy.
“Mr. Darcy, pray ignore my daughter. She is rather in the habit of playing pranks. It is not well done, you silly puss, but I am certain we will all forgive you given that it is your birthday.”
“Caroline is not joking,” Darcy said, and while Caroline would never love her now former betrothed, she nonetheless felt her body relax at those steady, calm words.
“Lady Bingley, Caroline and I decided some time ago that we will not suit, but we also knew that her situation as an underage lady made it challenging for her to break the engagement. She is now of age and in possession of her own fortune, and thus our engagement is at an end.”
Thirty seconds later, Lady Bingley began screaming at her daughter.
***
In the Shrubbery
Netherfield Hall
The Next Morning
28th December, 1811
Winter’s chill had settled in for good, frosting the ground and freezing the air. Caroline could only be grateful that there was no wind today. There was not much sun to speak of, either, and patchy clouds obscured what little warmth might have been gleaned from the weak December sun.
Nonetheless, Caroline had bundled herself warmly against the cold and made her escape from the house.
So far, at least, her shawl and pelisse and scarf, as well as woolen gloves and thick knitted stockings and boots, were doing their jobs and keeping her warm.
Not that her relatively comfortable state would last forever, and she would eventually be forced to seek the sanctuary of the house.
At the moment, Caroline was determined to postpone that moment as long as she possibly could.
If she could wander the paths of the shrubbery for the entirety of the next few days, she would.
She had no desire at all to return to a scene comparable to the one enacted the previous evening.
The fallout of her announcement had gone exactly as Caroline had expected it would, with Lady Bingley going off into strong hysterics and bitter recriminations.
After more than twenty years of life, Caroline was familiar with how her mother expressed disappointment and outrage and had settled herself in to wait out the initial storm.
Georgiana, on the contrary, had looked increasingly horrified and distressed by her mother-in-law’s outburst. At a murmured word from Darcy, Charles had hurried his young wife from the room, with Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Hurst following the married pair.
Caroline had braced herself for a trying time of being alone with Lady Bingley and her rage, but to her surprise and gratitude, Darcy had remained, a faithful bulwark of support, listening to Lady Bingley’s condemnations and criticisms in stony silence.
Lady Bingley had not hesitated to fling the bitterest of accusations and reproaches at her younger daughter, ranging from biting commentary on Caroline’s character to invoking the memory of her dear departed husband.
Their ungrateful, undutiful daughter was disdaining her poor father in dishonoring his wish that she marry Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Caroline wondered if her mother had realized how much that would sting, even though she did not really believe it. She had adored her father, a kindly and easy-going man who always had a loving word for her. The last thing she would ever wish to do would be to dishonor him.