Chapter 1 #2
In truth, Lizzy didn’t trust Caroline. She couldn’t say exactly why. The Bingleys’ money had come from trade—but the sisters had gone to a fancy girls’ school that prepared them for fashionable society.
Lizzy didn’t care about their ancestry or their education.
But Caroline and her sister struck Lizzy as cold and haughty.
Jane, inclined to see the best in everyone, had been flattered by Caroline’s attention.
But then, Jane was not only the sweetest and most beautiful woman in Meryton. She was also the wealthiest.
Perhaps Jane’s position had attracted Caroline, rather than her disposition. Lizzy couldn’t help wondering.
“I suppose you’re right,” Jane said. “You always tell me I’m too trusting. I confess there’s some truth in that. But Mr. Bingley! What must he think of my imposing on his hospitality?”
Lizzy lifted a brow and gave her sister a coy smile. Charles Bingley had been besotted with Jane since they’d met a few weeks earlier: the night of the ball at the Meryton assembly rooms.
Bingley was a gentleman of twenty-three or four. His fortune was five thousand a year, if their mother was to be believed. As their mother was the most accomplished gossip in Meryton, there was no reason to doubt her.
An amiable man, Bingley had ingratiated himself with every hostess in the neighbourhood. Unlike his sisters, he seemed ingenuous—as if his kindness sprang from his heart. He would be a good match for Jane, if things continued as they’d begun.
“He was solicitous of your health when I spoke to him earlier,” Lizzy said. “I think he rather likes having you under his care.”
That brought some colour to Jane’s cheek. “Oh, Lizzy, don’t run away with yourself. Mr. Bingley has always been kind to me, but we mustn’t assume there’s more to his feelings than a general amiability. He’s kind to everyone.”
“Believe what you will.” Lizzy lowered her voice. “I’m convinced he’s well on his way to falling in love with you.”
Jane spoke barely above a whisper. “I do like him more than any other young man of my acquaintance. But as to falling in love…I believe that’s premature.”
Lizzy raised her brows, giving her sister a sceptical look. Jane pinkened and lowered her eyes. “Would you like me to read to you,” Lizzy asked, “or would you prefer to sleep?”
“Sleep, I think, for a little while. But will you stay with me?”
“Of course. For as long as you like.”
“Thank you. It does help, having you here. I don’t feel so alone.”
Lizzy caressed her sister’s hair again, and Jane closed her eyes. Lizzy hadn’t come intending to stay at Netherfield. But she was now convinced that Jane needed her, and was too sick to move. So the Bingleys would have one more guest to contend with.
Whether they liked it or not.
∞∞∞
Caroline found her sister in the drawing room. While Louisa embroidered, Hurst napped on the couch. He was the most indolent man Caroline had met. That suited Louisa just fine. She could do exactly as she pleased, whilst attracting no notice from him.
Closing the door behind her as she entered, Caroline flopped onto the couch. The unladylike display would have appalled the headmistress of Mrs. Buttercup’s School. But Caroline was in no mood for the strictures of propriety—no one would see her but her own sister.
She slid next to Louisa and spoke conspiratorially. “Apparently, no good deed goes unpunished.”
Louisa gave her a sideways look and a wry grin. “Are you referring to the Miss Bennets?”
Caroline sighed, the ennui of this provincial town exhausting her. “All I wanted was to invite a neighbour for tea. Now I have a pair of unexpected houseguests.”
Louisa set her screen down onto her lap. She turned to her sister, brows arched in surprise. “Miss Eliza is staying?”
“She wishes to look after Jane until she’s well enough to move.” Caroline didn’t much care for the pert Eliza. Yet this development wasn’t altogether inconvenient. “At least it removes some of the burden of nursing Jane from me.”
“And the servants,” Louisa added. “Plus, she won’t be in our way if she takes her meals in Jane’s room.”
Caroline shook her head. “Charles would never allow that. I’ve invited her to join the family for dinner.”
Louisa scowled. “She’s pretty. Are you not worried that Darcy—”
“Not at all.” A wicked grin stole across Caroline’s features. “Have you forgotten what Darcy said to us the night he met her? ‘Her a beauty! I’d sooner call the mother a wit.’”
“True.” Louisa tittered. “But you do like Jane, do you not?”
“Oh yes, she’s a perfect angel.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Louisa suggested. “She wouldn’t be a bad match for Charles. He wouldn’t have to buy an estate if he married her. They could live at Longbourn until she inherits.”
Caroline’s eyes widened, staring at her sister in astonishment. “Bite your tongue! Did you forget our plan to marry him to Georgiana Darcy?”
Louisa deflated. “Oh, but Caro, the girl isn’t even out yet. It might be years before Darcy lets her marry.”
“Even so, we don’t want Charles settled in Hertfordshire. We want him in Derbyshire, or thereabouts at least. Once he’s married, we can’t count on him cavorting with Darcy as he does now.”
Louisa pursed her lips. “If you want Darcy, you had better secure him sooner rather than later. We can’t rely on Charles to make plans according to our liking.”
Caroline weighed Louisa’s words. Their younger brother was eager to please. He’d been at their disposal since they were children.
Now, though, it seemed he was at Darcy’s disposal. So Louisa wasn’t entirely wrong.
“I wonder…” Caroline said pensively. “If our brother caught Darcy and me in a compromising position, would Charles force him to marry me?”
Louisa eyed her sceptically. “I think it more likely that Darcy would convince him it was all a misunderstanding.”
Caroline nodded slowly. “In that case, I suppose I’ll actually have to seduce him.”
Louisa tittered. “The upstanding Mr. Darcy! I’ll salute you if you manage it, my dear.”
Caroline tapped her forefinger to her lips. Darcy was a man of high moral character —but still a man. And there was bloody little to do in this pastoral setting.
Yet there were endless secluded spots she could lure him to. Though Caroline was still technically a maiden, she knew how to please a man. Poor Darcy would be putty in her hands.
∞∞∞
Darcy had hoped to go riding that morning. But seeing Miss Elizabeth Bennet arrive with muddy boots had changed his mind. He and Bingley remained indoors instead, playing billiards, and Darcy’s mind wandered to the new visitor.
While Jane was beautiful even in stillness, Elizabeth had a more active beauty.
The morning’s walk had brought out her fine animal spirits.
Her windblown hair and flushed cheeks reminded him of his boyhood in the Peak District.
He and his cousins would leave in the morning and explore all day—coming home for a meal only when their stomachs demanded it.
Those had been innocent days, when it seemed the whole world was his. Nothing had restrained his exuberance. That was before loss and responsibility had changed him. Before his one-time best friend had betrayed him.
Seeing Elizabeth that morning had somehow made him feel light again. There was a seriousness in her devotion to her sister—yet her eyes sparkled with mischief, her lips quirked into an easy smile. A woman like that in his life would be a blessing.
“What think you of having two Miss Bennets now installed under your roof?” Darcy asked his friend.
“I’m sorry indeed that Miss Bennet is unwell,” Bingley replied. “It pleases me, though, that Miss Elizabeth has joined her. That says a great deal about their sisterly affection, do you not agree?”
“I do. Georgiana would have benefitted from having a sister to confide in. A brother makes a poor substitute.” Darcy gave his friend a self-deprecating grin.
Darcy’s sister was a dozen years his junior. With both their parents gone, he’d hired a companion to look after her and see to her education. He didn’t approve of those girls’ schools that taught nothing of substance. No quality was more attractive in a woman than an enlightened mind.
In his youth, Darcy had been infatuated with the vicar’s daughter at his home parish in Derbyshire—though he’d never so much as laid a finger on her.
He’d rarely seen her without a book in hand.
He often came upon her on the stretch of land that separated his property at Pemberley from the vicarage.
She would sit reading on a boulder at the top of the peak, the valley stretched out before her.
When he would catch her eye, she would smile at him sweetly. He would ask about her book, and often they had spirited debates about the subject matter.
After he went to university, she married and moved away. His father convinced him not to mourn her. She was beneath his station. Any girl would show interest if she wanted his fortune.
Yet to this day, he missed sharing an intelligent conversation with a woman—one who offered ideas and opinions without a thought to whether it was ladylike .
Caroline Bingley had cemented his views on female education. She was an intelligent woman, yet never spoke about matters of consequence. Instead, she talked about fashion and soirées and the latest on-dit.
And she was forever thrusting her décolletage under his nose. He found it frankly embarrassing. She was pretty, to be sure. But it took more than a pretty face—or bosom—to gain Darcy’s interest.
Elizabeth Bennet was much more to his liking. He hadn’t been impressed by her beauty the night they’d met. The townsmen had set his expectations high, praising the Miss Bennets when they welcomed Bingley to the neighbourhood.
In fact, Elizabeth’s looks improved on further acquaintance. That morning, she’d appeared as lovely as any woman he knew. And her mind was as lively as the vicar’s daughter’s had been. Perhaps more so.
But Miss Elizabeth was not for him. Eventually, he must marry to produce an heir for Pemberley. His aunt, the Countess of Matlock, was helping in that arena. She was scrutinising the daughters of the peerage for someone who would suit.
He expected his marriage would be arranged, as his parents’ had been. An alliance of two dynasties. Love wasn’t a requirement—but good birth, an impeccable character, and a brilliant mind were. If she was beautiful, all the better.
Beautiful. That word had come to mind upon seeing Elizabeth that morning. Unfortunately, she lacked the noble lineage he needed. Nor did she have a substantial dowry.
A great pity. Otherwise, she might be perfect.
The sound of Bingley’s cue hitting its object made Darcy’s jaw tense. Darcy had taught the man billiards at university—now, the student exceeded the master. It’s just a friendly game, Darcy reminded himself. No need for his competitive streak to assert itself.
“It’s deuced inconvenient,” Bingley said. “The prettiest woman in Hertfordshire is under my roof, and I may not see her.”
It took Darcy a moment to realise Bingley referred to Jane and not Elizabeth. “Inconvenient indeed. Does her sister’s beauty offer no consolation?”
Bingley raised his brows and grinned wryly. “I thought you considered Miss Elizabeth only tolerable.”
“At first, I did,” Darcy conceded. “Or perhaps I was looking for excuses. You know I find dancing tedious.”
“Dancing with the right partner is one of the great joys in life,” Bingley countered.
“Then perhaps I haven’t found the right partner.”
Bingley smirked. “Or perhaps you look for reasons to dislike everything you see.”
Darcy scowled at his friend, then took his turn. Bingley was not entirely wrong. The two of them balanced each other: Darcy’s cynicism reined in Bingley’s exuberance, whilst Bingley coaxed Darcy into letting down his guard and having fun.
Some days, Darcy envied Bingley’s ease. Others, he worried about his friend. Darcy had learnt early not to be taken in by a pretty face, but not so Bingley.
So far, with Bingley’s sisters’ help, Darcy had kept the man from the snare of a fortune hunter. But how long could their luck last? It might be best if Bingley took a wife soon.
“Miss Bennet has turned your head, it seems,” Darcy prodded.
Bingley chalked his cue. “I’ve made no secret of that.”
“Is your interest serious?”
“Why?” Bingley scowled. “Do you wish to talk me out of it?”
Darcy flinched. “On the contrary. Her fortune isn’t equal to yours, but she comes from an old family. She seems genuinely lovely, and your sisters like her.”
Bingley was quiet a moment. He took his next turn before saying, “You think I should offer for her?”
“It’s too early for that. But you could ask her father’s permission to formally court her.”
“I’ll consider it.” Bingley eyed him cautiously. “Why are you saying this?”
“Because I’ve guided you away from other women in the past. This one seems worthy of you.”
Bingley nodded slowly, his lips forming a pensive frown.
“You seem distressed by the idea,” Darcy observed.
Bingley’s brows rose. “Not at all. I haven’t given serious thought to marriage before. But I admire Jane Bennet more than any other woman I’ve met.”
Darcy gave a brief nod. He didn’t smile, but a frisson of happiness rose in his chest.