Chapter XIII #2
“Apparently, you do not,” jibed Louisa. “If you did, then Charles would be here doing what you tell him to do. Go to Hertfordshire if you will, but I shall do nothing more to convince Charles not to follow his heart.”
Caroline’s eyes became hard as agates. “This is how you betray me?”
“It is no betrayal, Caroline,” retorted Louisa. “At last, I understand how unhinged you have become.
“Get out of my rooms and leave my husband’s house! Go to Netherfield if you must. Your errand is doomed to failure—perhaps you will see that when Mr. Darcy rebuffs you.”
“I shall remember this betrayal,” spat Caroline. “Do not suppose I shall recognize you when I am mistress of Pemberley.”
With those words, Caroline turned on her heel and stalked from the room, leaving Louisa with the distinct wish she would be free of her sister for some time.
Outside her rooms, Louisa heard her sister giving orders to the staff and knew Caroline would depart as soon as she could.
Charles had left his carriage for their use—Louisa knew she could deny Caroline the carriage if she wished, but if she did that, it would lead to an explosive confrontation that would make their previous argument seem like a mild spat in comparison.
No, there was a better way to handle it.
“Martha,” Louisa said to her maid, “please go down and have Mrs. Davis attend me at once.”
Though it was clear the girl did not wish to leave the safety of Louisa’s chambers, she departed at once. Within moments, the housekeeper arrived.
“You sent for me, Mrs. Hurst?”
Louisa, who had been sitting at the escritoire in the corner of her room, nodded, continuing to write a brief letter to her husband.
“Please arrange with Mr. Lawson to send a footman to engage an express rider at once. I have a letter that must be taken to my husband in Hertfordshire without delay.”
Mrs. Davis appeared to understand, and of more importance, she had never liked Caroline or the way she had often attempted to usurp Louisa’s authority in her own home.
“I shall speak to him, Mrs. Hurst. When your letter is ready, have Martha bring it to me. The letter will go out the moment it is complete.”
Louisa thanked her, and Mrs. Davis left the room after curtseying.
As it was just a short missive to warn her husband of Caroline’s departure and her mood—though Gerald could guess himself—Louisa had written it within five minutes.
When her maid departed from the room, Louisa rose and went to the mirror in her chambers, inspecting her arm.
Caroline’s grip had been of sufficient force to bruise, and Louisa’s wrenching it away had done her no favors.
She would sport a mark for several days, though she knew it would fade.
That Caroline had lost her mind enough to lay hands on Louisa at all was enough to fill her with anger for the sister consumed by ambition and conceit.
For some time after, Louisa remained in her rooms, listening to Caroline command, exhort, and scream orders at the poor servants, but Louisa knew the best way to restore order was to allow Caroline to depart as expeditiously as possible.
Though it might be improper for an unmarried woman to travel with only her maid, Caroline’s mind was made up, and Louisa would not argue with her.
Eager to depart though she was, it took a lot longer than her demands of haste would suggest, for Caroline would not leave without all the possessions she deemed necessary.
Let her go. Louisa suspected Charles would not long endure her, and Mr. Darcy would set her straight in a manner Caroline would not appreciate.
What would happen to her after depended on how Caroline behaved.
For Louisa’s part, she would not support a sister who had grown unworthy of her devotion.
Perhaps Charles would arrange for Louisa to join him in Hertfordshire—if he settled the management of the house on her, that would infuriate Caroline, but it would bring greater peace to his home.
Maybe it would even teach Caroline a lesson.
THAT DAY, DARCY EXISTED in bliss, though only because he remained ignorant of the storm brewing on the road from London.
The morning had passed with a visit from the Bennet ladies—Hurst had chosen the same time to visit Longbourn; the carriages passing on the road between the two estates suggested a guiding hand or at least communication about the ladies’ plans for that day.
Darcy did not begrudge Hurst his interest in visiting his friend instead of enduring the chattering of the ladies or Bingley staking his claim on Miss Bennet’s time.
For his part, Darcy had been only too happy to remain, for even if the youngest Miss Bennets and their mother grated on his nerves, seeing Miss Elizabeth made all the difference.
After a visit, heartened by Miss Elizabeth’s response to his overtures, he found himself alone with his sister, Bingley and Hurst elsewhere in the house.
Darcy had not been so blinded by Miss Elizabeth’s charms that he had not witnessed his sister’s conversation with Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia, though the notion that the girls were attempting to mold her into a version of themselves would not leave him.
Had Darcy possessed any less trust in his sister, he might have concerned himself with her friendship.
When Darcy was not taking Miss Elizabeth’s time and making it his own, Georgiana had turned her attention to the second-oldest Bennet, and that in itself was enough to calm any reservations he might have held.
“I am pleased you introduced me to the Bennets, Brother,” said Georgiana as they discussed the morning’s visit. “I like Lizzy very well, and Kitty and Lydia can be great fun too.”
Darcy was caught between wanting to know what Georgiana thought about the woman he admired and the girls with whom she spent much of her time. Uncertain what to address, he responded on a different subject altogether.
“It pleases me to see you getting on with them so well. I do not recall when I have seen you so animated.”
“They are easy ladies to esteem, especially Miss Elizabeth.”
“You like her?”
“As you told me before introducing us, I cannot imagine anyone disapproving of her.”
“Unless your name is Caroline Bingley.”
Georgiana made a face. “Yes, well, Miss Bingley does not approve of you speaking with any young woman, but I am certain you care little about her opinion.”
Darcy nodded. “You are correct.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” continued Georgiana, “is a young lady possessing many virtues. She is witty, intelligent, confident, and so many other superlatives that I cannot name.”
“And yet,” replied Darcy, feeling rather wry, “you have known her for only a few days.”
“It is enough.” Georgiana grinned. “If you did not take so much of her time, I would know her better, though I do not begrudge your wish to be in her company.”
“Then you approve of her.”
“Yes, Brother, I believe she will make an excellent sister. That is the most important point, is it not?”
The rumble of laughter built in Darcy’s breast, and he did not think to suppress it. “Then I shall take your praise under advisement. What of the youngest Bennets?”
Georgiana shrugged her indifference. “As I said, I enjoy Kitty and Lydia’s company, but I am not blind to the deficiency in their behavior.”
“Nor did I suppose you were.”
The nod Georgiana offered was regal enough for a queen. “It is well, then, that I believe they are beginning to emulate me a little.”
This was a surprise to Darcy. “Oh? I have noticed nothing.”
“That is because so much of your attention is on Elizabeth.” Georgiana’s grin exceeded pleased and landed on smugness.
“Trust me, Brother. I do not suppose I have enough influence to reform them, but I suspected they would take my likeness if I offered it to them. If you mean to make Elizabeth your wife, her sisters will need to move in society too.”
“Their father is taking a hand,” said Darcy, wondering when his sister had become so devious.
“So he is. But I cannot suppose my help is inconsequential.”
“Certainly not. I wish you luck, Georgiana. I suspect you will need it.”
Before they could speak further on the subject, the door opened, admitting Bingley and Hurst into the room.
One look at his friend told Darcy that storm clouds had followed him inside, though a look at Hurst showed nothing but diversion.
What Bingley’s morose expression portended, Darcy was uncertain, but he did not like the implications.
“Mr. Bingley,” said Georgiana in a teasing tone Darcy could not have imagined her using a week earlier, “you appear nothing like the man who spent half an hour in the sole company of his lady.”
The smile Bingley summoned became him ill, for Darcy was accustomed to beaming grins and jovial comments from his friend. Darcy’s suspicions deepened; Bingley spoke at once to confirm them.
“I have just received an express from London,” said Bingley. “Louisa informed me that Caroline has departed and will join us this afternoon.”
“Bingley,” said Hurst, a hint of chiding in his tone, “you must have known the inevitability of Caroline discovering our location.”
“How did she manage it?” asked Darcy.
“Mrs. Nichols,” said Bingley, shaking his head. “It never occurred to me to request that she say nothing of our presence should Caroline write to her.”
“Nor should you have expected her to lie to conceal your presence,” said Hurst. “This was destined to happen, Bingley. You should look on it as an opportunity to make your position clear to your sister and assert your authority.”
“It is not that, Hurst,” replied Bingley, his cross expression speaking volumes.
“Caroline will not move me from my purpose, nor shall I allow any interference in my affairs. Yet I worry about how she will behave—I cannot imagine she will adopt even the veneer of civility for anyone in the neighborhood, even Miss Bennet, for whom she professed friendship only a month ago.”
“I do not think she will frighten Miss Bennet away, Mr. Bingley,” interrupted Georgiana.
“No, I cannot suppose she will. That does not mean I shall allow her to disrespect Miss Bennet if I can prevent it.”
“Nor should you, Bingley,” replied Hurst. “I fancy that I know your sister as well as you do. Your assessment is not in error—what matters is how you handle her disrespect.
“The greater issue,” said Hurst, turning to Darcy, “is how she will behave toward you, Darcy. Had Mrs. Nichols not mentioned your presence, I doubt Caroline would have been so quick to return, even considering her disapproval of Miss Bennet.”
“Aye, Louisa said as much in her letter,” added Bingley.
This was a conversation Darcy had never had with his friend, though they had circled the edges several times. It was also something he needed to say at once—even if they knew of his sentiments, to fail to speak now would be cowardly. Darcy was anything but a coward.
“Bingley, I offer my apologies, but I have no interest in your sister.”
Bingley offered a sly look, but Hurst responded with a hearty guffaw.
“That, my dear Darcy, is perhaps the worst-kept secret in London. Of course, you do not favor Caroline—the only one who cannot see it is the lady in question.”
Darcy nodded. “Then please understand that not only will I pay her no attention out of the common way, but should she take matters into her own hands to . . . force my hand, I shall not fulfill an obligation that does not exist.”
The way Bingley’s eyes bulged suggested Darcy had caught him by surprise. “Darcy! Are you suggesting—?”
“Of course, he is, Bingley,” said Hurst, interrupting with a sharp look for his brother. “If you considered the matter for a moment, you would understand that your sister is capable of it.”
Bingley fixed his brother with a doubtful look. “She is determined, but she has never resorted to such designs.”
“That is because she is confident,” rejoined Hurst. “When she comes to Hertfordshire and sees what is happening here, that confidence will turn to desperation.”
“Bingley,” said Darcy, wishing to cut this conversation short, “I make no claims about your sister and do not speak to insult her. It is best that we understand each other, and that includes accounting for every contingency.”
Though he continued to appear dubious, Bingley nodded. “I know you have fended off other such attempts in the past.”
“Yes, I have,” agreed Darcy. “I will no more bow to anything your sister tries than I did to those previous attempts. Miss Bingley will not corner me into acting against my conscience.”
“Very well, Darcy,” replied Bingley. “We shall watch my sister. Should she take any devious action to force your hand, we shall deal with her.”
The way Hurst regarded them both, Darcy knew he considered Miss Bingley’s misbehavior inevitable, but he said nothing more.
As Darcy had a healthy respect for Miss Bingley’s self-interest, he determined to remain watchful, though Darcy did not relax his guard around any young lady.
To have Miss Caroline Bingley as a wife would be a disaster—not only for his future happiness, but for his very sanity.
Nothing would induce him to throw his wishes out the window to save the reputation of a woman who little deserved it.
Should she compromise him and he refuse to marry her, it would affect him but little—Bingley would suffer more, yet Darcy knew his friend would understand.
Of more importance, Darcy needed to find a way to inform Miss Elizabeth of what was occurring, though he knew she would understand Miss Bingley the moment she saw her.
Darcy had given her enough clues for her to apprehend his interest. Perhaps it was now time to state the matter plainly, so there could be no misunderstanding.