Chapter 7 #2
“Brother knew that I was uncomfortable with them but always made it up to me with gifts for drawing their attention away from him for at least part of the day,” Georgiana giggled.
Jane could only cover her heated cheeks with her hands. The thought of how pushing her sisters-in-law had been to the poor Darcys. “Oh Georgiana, I am sorry!”
“You can hardly be held responsible for them, Jane,” Georgiana giggled. “You did not even know them at the time!”
“The carriage is ready, Mrs. Bingley,” Mrs. Reynolds appeared and announced, her face a study of relief and apology for her mistress’s sweet sister.
The servants could not wait to be shot of the lot of them, Jane assumed, as she rose gracefully from her seat.
She retrieved a small purse from her pocket and pressed it into the woman’s hands. “For your trouble, Mrs. Reynolds.”
The housekeeper beamed with pleasure, “I always knew you Bennet girls were quality, Ma’am.”
Jane smiled ruefully, realizing that her husband had likely never left a pourboire as he ought for his friend’s servants.
Caroline was so rude to the staff that she was certain that she would not even if she was aware of the custom.
Linking her arm with her sister’s, the ladies made their way to the front entry where Jane was assisted with her outerwear by a footman.
“Jane, you must promise me that you will write if you should need my assistance with Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth whispered earnestly as they approached the gentlemen standing beside the carriage. “It is more than obvious to me that your husband is not up to the task of controlling her—”
She trailed off when she saw Caroline’s silhouette in the darkened interior of the carriage, sitting in the forward-facing seat beside her brother’s hat and gloves, making it obvious that the man intended to sit beside her.
Jane saw the direction of Elizabeth’s gaze and shook her head in an attempt to head her off. It was not successful.
“Why are you forcing your wife to sit in the rear seat, Charles?” she demanded, making the man jump.
“Well, I… er, I become sick in a carriage when traveling long distances and Caroline is similar and…”
“That is strange,” Darcy muttered. “She never had a problem when she insisted that she must sit beside me on the rear seat because it was Mrs. Hurst who suffered thusly. Perhaps it is a new affliction?”
Caroline pretended not to hear them and stared stubbornly out the far window of the carriage.
Bingley began to sweat and shot his wife a panicked, pleading look.
She assured her sister quietly that it was fine and she did not mind and smiled sweetly at her husband.
He breathed out a sigh of relief and hurried her into the carriage before Elizabeth could cause another uncomfortable scene.
When he attempted to farewell Darcy one last time, Caroline’s snapped “Charles” had him jumping guiltily and climbing into the carriage.
He waved as they pulled away and Jane watched her sister growing smaller and smaller until they had crested the hill and the house fell from sight.
Her heart sank, surprising her with a sudden feeling of loneliness; as if she had lost her last support.
“I do not know how you, my sweet, compassionate wife, came from the same parents as that termagant,” Bingley huffed sitting back in his seat and putting his feet up beside her on the seat. “She is always saying whatever she can to make those around her uncomfortable.”
“She has never dealt well with what she perceived to be as negligence,” Jane replied. “Especially against one of her sisters.”
Bingley flushed and goggled, eyes wide in surprise that his placid wife had not agreed and soothed his bruised feelings. Caroline turned her frigid gaze on Jane and snapped, “Are you suggesting that you are being mistreated by Charles and I?”
Jane dropped her eyes, unable to hold her gaze as she whispered, “Is it true that you do not suffer from carriage sickness?”
“What has that to do with anything?” Caroline replied, daring her to say another word.
Jane’s stomach dropped. She glanced at her husband for support, but he was studying the passing scenery with his usual avoidance.
Yet again, as Elizabeth so often complained, he was choosing to not engage, which was a choice in Caroline’s favor for she would not care a whit if they looked hurt and miserable.
Even if we called her to order, I doubt she would care, Jane thought, almost petulantly.
She hears and sees nothing that she does not wish to.
∞∞∞
The first day of travel was extremely uncomfortable for Bingley and his wife, as Caroline did all she could to ensure that they were unable to relax.
She had a knack for knowing just when her brother wished to close his eyes and would begin her favorite pastime of belittling the new Mrs. Darcy for her inferior meals and lack of entertainments.
After her first attempt to remind her sister-in-law that they were not there for a visit, Jane held her tongue to keep the peace and allowed Caroline’s vitriol to wash over her, though she paid little attention, even when her husband agreed that he had expected his friend to spend more time with them as he usually did.
By the morning of the third day, Jane was exhausted by the entire conversation and Caroline only seemed to increasingly find more to complain of as it became obvious that she was wearing her sister-in-law down.
Jane began to feel an intimacy with her mother’s nerves which she had never before experienced, though she did her best to suppress the need to wave her handkerchief and cry for her salts; that was until they reached St. Albans.
The carriage pulled into the yard at the inn and Bingley stepped out and stretched before reaching in to assist his sister down as well.
Jane reached out her hand, but no one appeared to assist her as she saw Caroline dragging Bingley into the inn, completely abandoning her.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she had to fight for her usual equanimity as a footman appeared to demand that she exit the carriage.
“It is not as if we have all day to await your majesty,” he grumbled before leading the carriage away for a change of horses.
Jane blushed brightly, mortified that Caroline’s subversion was leading to such insubordination in the staff.
She hurried away to the inn where she was further insulted by the innkeeper who insisted on confirming her relationship with Caroline who, of course, declaimed any knowledge of her and declared that she would need to use the privy with the rest of the riffraff.
She was only saved from such ignominy by the arrival of her husband.
“You know this lady, sir?” the innkeeper asked with a sideways look.
“My wife?” Bingley laughed, “of course I do!”
“Then why did the other woman declare she was no companion of hers?” the man demanded, looking between the couple with a dubious glare. “I’ll have none of that type here, I assure you!”
Jane’s poise broke at last and she burst into tears of mortification and frustration. To be accused of being a light skirt in search of a companion was just too much for her fragile peace and she could take no more.
“Jane!” Bingley exclaimed, drawing her close and glaring at the man. “How dare you, sir!”
“But your sister said—”
“She was just quizzing, I am sure!” he insisted, panicking when that only made his wife sob even harder.
“That was quite offensive for a tease, sir,” the man grumbled before stomping away leaving Bingley to escort her into the room.
Caroline sat with a cup of tea looking as if she had heard none of the contretemps in the hall. “What has taken you both so long! I have nearly finished my tea! I cannot believe that you are holding us up to such a degree. No one appreciates your histrionics, Jane.”
Bingley sighed but said nothing as usual.
Jane’s heart broke a little more and she quietly excused herself to the small antechamber which had been set aside as a necessary.
When she returned, the pair had once again abandoned her and she hurriedly gathered a few biscuits from what was left on the table in her handkerchief.
She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the delicious-looking sandwiches, each with a bite taken out of them before they had been tossed back.
She was rather hungry, but she could not force herself to take one; even she had some self-respect.
When she arrived at the carriage, Bingley was standing, shoulders hunched, ignoring Caroline’s insistent caterwauling that he get in the carriage and leave Jane to the servants. She gave him a grateful smile of such luminosity that he puffed up and bowed flamboyantly when he offered his hand.
“Thank you, kind sir,” she giggled, taking his hand and stepping into the carriage. She ignored the bitter look on Caroline’s face as she basked in the joy of her husband’s support, such as it was. She did not even feel discomposed as she settled once more onto the rear-facing seat.
Bingley joined them in his usual seat and knocked for the coachman. “The servants will be a few minutes behind us; they were just finishing their meal.”
Jane’s stomach grumbled at his words, and she blushed lightly and retrieved the biscuits from her pocket and began to nibble delicately at them.
“Did you not eat, Jane?” Caroline asked with a false sweetness. “That cannot be good for the babe.”
“Someone took a bite out of each of the sandwiches so I assumed that there must have been something wrong with the mutton. I felt it was better to be safe than sorry.”
“I ate three and there was nothing wrong with them,” Bingley remarked, surprising them both.
Caroline snorted and looked away, and Jane gave her husband another small smile of gratitude.
Fifteen minutes later, as they left St. Albans, Bingley stretched his arms over his head and groaned. “Why is it always the third day which is the most uncomfortable?”