Chapter 10
Even though it had been almost ten days since the death of Mavis and Arthur Bingley, given the cold of the season, there had been no imperative to inter them before the Hursts and Charles arrived.
The Hursts were aware that the bodies had been recovered by men in boats, but given the nature of the accident, the coffins were firmly secured and would not be opened for viewing.
When they entered the house, there was no missing Caroline’s screaming emanating from upstairs. Charles Bingley, who as far as he knew was the head of the family, was rooted to the spot, not knowing what to do because he hated conflict.
Harold approached his Uncle John in the front drawing room. “What has caused Caroline’s screaming now? I assume it is not grief?” he asked his uncle.
“She is screeching at Hildebrand, who will not give in to her histrionics. No, it has naught to do with grief; she insists that Arthur promised to send her to that seminary in London,” John Bingley revealed.
“She is claiming that she must leave as soon as may be and deep mourning be damned. I know this is not true, as, like you, I have a copy of the will. She will not be happy with what her late father planned.”
“But if Father promised Caroline…” Bingley began to say when Louisa placed a restraining hand on his arm.
“Charles, no decisions can be made until the will is read, and that will not be until after the funerals. Now is the time to mourn, not worry about Caroline’s demands,” Louisa stated gently.
“I suppose,” Bingley responded. How he hated the sounds of arguing.
“Louisa, will you speak to the household staff and servants while I go see our caterwauling sister?” Harold requested.
“Of course,” Louisa agreed.
Following the noise, Harold climbed the stairs to the family floor.
He pushed the door to Caroline’s bedchamber open with such force that it hit the wall and made a loud bang.
It had the intended effect, as his sister-in-law closed her mouth with a clack, her eyes wide with surprise.
He did not miss the look of relief on Aunt Hildebrand’s face.
“Why is it that Louisa, Charles, and I arrived at a house in supposed mourning to hear you shrieking like a shrill fishmonger?” Harold demanded.
“You want to raise yourself in society, yet you have none of the graces which are required of a gentlelady.” Harold looked Caroline up and down with disdain.
“You have no authority over me, you drunken, indolent lout!” Miss Bingley screeched.
“In fact, I do,” Harold shot back. “I am one of your late father’s executors.
Your Uncle John is your primary guardian, and I am designated after him if something should befall him before you reach your majority.
This is supposed to be a time to honour your late mother and father, not desecrate their memories, as you are by the way you are behaving. ”
“Father promised…” Miss Bingley tried in a calmer fashion.
“We both know he did not. However, that is neither here nor there. Until his Last Will and Testament is read after the funeral, nothing is official. Perhaps your father changed his mind, but you will never know unless you remain calm and wait for the reading of the will.” Harold waited for Caroline to assimilate his words.
“I am sure Mother convinced him to change his mind, and it will be in the will,” Miss Bingley crowed. “In that case, I will wait for the reading.”
“You know Arthur did nothing of the sort,” Hildebrand said in sotto voce once she and her nephew left the chamber and were on the landing at the stairs. “In fact, I believe he made his desires very clear.”
“Yes, we know that, but Caroline does not, and that means that until after the funeral, we will have some peace and quiet in the house,” Harold returned.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The church service and interment of Arthur and Mavis Bingley had been very well attended. Men from each branch of the Bingley Carriage Works had been present. As would be expected, while the men were busy, Louisa and her aunt accepted condolence calls from the ladies of the area.
It was no surprise to any of them that Caroline kept to her own chambers, preferring not to rub shoulders with so many women whose husbands were all active in trade.
She had been hoping that the man she intended to have as her husband, Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, would arrive to condole with her. To her disappointment, he had not.
What she was unaware of was that her brother-in-law had written letters to the Fitzwilliam brothers and Darcy advising them against coming to Scarborough because he was sure his sister-in-law would see it as confirmation of the hopes she harboured towards two of them. All three men had heeded his advice.
That afternoon once it was just the Hursts and Bingleys—Charles, Caroline, Aunt Hildebrand, and Uncle John—Mr Potter, the Bingley family solicitor in Scarborough, read the will.
It was a great surprise to Charles and Caroline Bingley. Not so for the rest of those present, as they knew what the will contained.
Bingley was reeling. Uncle John was now the owner of the carriage works.
He had a large share for himself, but his uncle had the controlling stake in the concern.
Until he was five and twenty, he would need permission from one of the executors, Hurst, or his uncle, to touch anything other than a portion of the interest on the Bingley fortune.
He could see from the way his father had written this new will and never consulted him beforehand that his late sire had not trusted him.
The knowledge stung. It seemed Father had relied on Hurst, even with his tendency to be foxed and asleep for hours, rather than himself.
Unlike Bingley’s mother’s assertion that the will would command him to purchase an estate, his father had told him it was his decision.
Bingley could purchase an estate—after he turned five and twenty—or he could chuse not to.
The shocks for Caroline Bingley were far greater.
Her father made no allowance for her to study at Miss Hathaway’s, or any other seminary not in Scarborough.
Any money to go to her was at the discretion of her Uncle John or her sot of a brother-in-law, Harold Hurst. They would control her allowance, and if she overspent, Charles was forbidden from paying any overages for her.
She had been handed a letter from her father.
She stared at it in her hand as she decided what to do with it.
Her first inclination was to consign it to the roaring fire in the room, but she decided against that course of action in case there was some way within that would allow her to circumvent the draconian measures in the will.
She broke the seal and began to read.
10 November 1803
My office in the Carriage Works.
Caroline:
If you are reading this, then the worst has come to pass, and I am no longer alive before you have reached the age of 25.
There is no doubt in my mind that you are angry about the clauses in my will which pertain to you, especially when I have not relented on my decision that you will not attend any school outside of Scarborough.
I did not make this decision lightly. It was your and your mother’s willingness to lie to my face about your invitation, or lack thereof, to Pemberley which convinced me that I must make changes.
There is a letter to your mother, which, unless she has not survived me, she should be reading as you read this.
Knowing how adept you two are at manipulating Charles, I have put measures in place to ensure that your attempts will not succeed.
Your mother did you no favours, inculcating you with the nonsense about rising in society.
My hope is that one day, not too far distant, you will come to that realisation on your own.
If you do, your life will be much better, and that is what I wish for you—to live the best life you are able to live.
I know this is not what you wanted, but whether you see it or not, it is best for you.
With love,
Father
As the letter had not delivered what she deserved, Miss Bingley angrily balled it up and threw it into the fire.
Caroline Maleficent Bingley would get what she wanted!
As her sot of a brother-in-law was one of the executors, she would work on him and easily gain her due.
She knew Uncle John would not give in to her.
The Hursts and their aunt and uncle exchanged knowing glances. Caroline had not heeded a single word her father wrote to her.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“Charles,” Miss Bingley hissed. “Surely you are not sanguine with Father making that drunken lout an executor while giving you no power. You should be my guardian, no one else.”
“But, Caroline, you heard Mr Potter read Father’s will; he made Uncle John your guardian and our uncle and Hurst are the executors,” Bingley whinged.
“I do not think it is fair either. Did you not hear the clause Father added about what would happen if I tried to challenge all or even a small part of the will?” He saw his younger sister shake her head.
“If I do, then I will be permanently disinherited, and everything goes to Hurst and Louisa, including your dowry!”
Why had she not paid attention to the will?
Caroline would have known that she was wasting time with Charles.
As easy as it was for her to control him, he would not do anything that would disinherit himself, not even for her.
Louisa! She would do Caroline’s bidding, and the sot seemed to hold Louisa in affection so he also would do what she wanted. Yes, that was the way forward.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“Surely you must see that Father was not in his right mind when he wrote me that letter,” Miss Bingley claimed with faux sweetness a sennight after the reading of the will. “He always meant to honour Mother’s wishes that I attend Miss Hathaway’s School for young ladies.”