Chapter 21 #2
Jane, who had observed the entire exchange, grinned at her, and said, “We will see Mr. and Miss Darcy soon, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth could only be thankful.
/
“Farewell, Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy!” Caroline called out the window of her carriage as the horses began walking, and then trotting, along the road which would lead to the highway. “I look forward to seeing you in Hertfordshire next month!”
Mr. Darcy lifted a hand of goodbye toward the departing carriages and then turned to climb the stairs to the main door of Pemberley with Miss Darcy at his side.
Caroline craned her head and watched until the twosome disappeared through the massive front door, then leaned back against the scarlet squabs of her seat and allowed her face to relax from its frenzied smile.
“Oh, it is truly dreadful that Jane insisted that we leave prematurely!” she complained. “I am certain that if we had stayed even a few days longer, Mr. Darcy would have offered for me!”
Louisa, seated across from her on the forward facing seat, merely compressed her lips and said nothing, but Mr. Hurst, who always fell asleep as quickly as possible on carriage rides, said, “You are living in a fantasy if you believe Darcy will ever offer for you, Caroline.”
Miss Bingley gawked, gasped, and even drooled before croaking, “What did you say?”
“I said Darcy will never marry you,” Hurst repeated, shifting closer to his wife to avoid the sun shining in his eyes. “You should lower your sights, Sister, or you will find yourself on the shelf!”
“Patrick, really,” Louisa protested weakly. She was not feeling well today, and the thought of Caroline having a tantrum while they were trapped together in a carriage was unappealing.
Caroline glared at her brother-in-law and declared, “I am certain that Mr. Darcy admires me exceedingly. I am beautiful, accomplished, and wealthy. I would be the perfect mistress of Pemberley.”
“Nonsense,” Hurst returned irritably. “Darcy could marry any one of literally dozens of women with similar wealth and accomplishments to your own, and they are the daughters of nobles and gentlemen, not the children of tradesmen.”
Miss Bingley snorted like a bull, and her fingers curled into tight fists. “You did not mind marrying a tradesman’s daughter, Brother!”
“Of course I did not; I love and appreciate Louisa, but my situation is different than Darcy’s.
My estate is a small one, and my father still lives.
Thus, I am dependent on a mere allowance which makes Louisa’s dowry vitally important.
Darcy is nephew of an earl, and his estate earns some ten thousand pounds a year.
It exasperates me to see you wasting your life trying to win a man who has no interest in you. ”
“How dare you?” Caroline snarled in fury, and Louisa flinched at the loud noise and put a hand to her head.
“Oh, pray do not argue,” she begged, and Hurst, who had been preparing his next words of attack, immediately turned toward her.
“I am sorry, my dear,” he said contritely, lovingly patting his wife’s hand. “I apologize for my words, Caroline.”
“As well you should,” Miss Bingley said, tilting her nose into the air. “Mark my words, I will be Mrs. Darcy by Christmas!”
Hurst cast his eyes heavenward in exasperation and turned toward his wife. “Louisa, I know you slept poorly last night. You should take a nap if at all possible.”
Louisa cast a nervous glance at her sister, only to relax when Caroline, jaw clenched, turned to glare out at the passing countryside. It appeared that Miss Bingley intended to sulk instead of snarl, which she appreciated.
“Thank you, Patrick,” Louisa said, leaning against his comforting bulk. A few minutes later, she was fast asleep.
Once he was confident that his wife was truly slumbering, Hurst leaned back carefully and closed his own eyes.
He was skilled at drowsing without falling over, which was a blessing given that he found life dull much of the time.
Far better to sleep to hasten the hours of a boring afternoon or evening.
He smiled as he drifted off to a light sleep. If all went well, a child would be born early next year, the baby that he and Louisa had desired since they had married five years previous.
Caroline heard the soft snore of her brother by marriage and harrumphed in exasperation. Mr. Darcy never fell asleep in company, and she was certain that her chosen partner in life would never be so rude as to snore, whether privately or publicly.
To her distress, she felt tears prickle in her eyes, tears of anger, and yes, fear.
For as long as she could remember, she had been confident of her ability to prevail in getting exactly what she wanted.
Her father, her brother, her relations – all had eventually succumbed to her determination.
She was confident that with time and work, she would win what she wanted most of all, the position of mistress of Pemberley.
And yet…
Charles was being so ridiculous, with his absurd decision to defend Elizabeth Bennet against her own, well-reasoned remarks.
As if Elizabeth, sly thing that she was, needed anyone to protect her.
Caroline was certain that even if her own words were a little sharp, Elizabeth was not distressed in the least.
As for Miss Darcy – well, Caroline had known her these five years now! Surely they were friends. There was no reason for Georgiana to fear playing in front of her. None at all!
It was all absurd. She was handsome, well educated, accomplished, wealthy. She was the perfect wife for Mr. Darcy.
She stole a careful glance at Hurst, who was now leaning back against the seat cushion with Louisa sleeping against his shoulder. What would Hurst know? It should not matter that such an undistinguished gentleman thought that Darcy would never offer for a tradesman’s daughter.
But somehow … somehow it did matter.