Chapter Six #2
“I don’t know if I did prefer it,” said Elizabeth, though she supposed she had, only because it did not involve Caroline Bingley. “I might have been easier with my aunt, because she is family, that is all.”
Louisa looked her over. “You objected, then, to the time with us, not to the outcome.”
“Well, I would rather not give up my babe at all, of course, but I must think of what is best for him or her, not what I want. I must give my child the best life I can give it, and that is not to grow up as illegitimate.”
“Of course,” said Louisa. “But you do not object to the child being with my husband and myself because you think yourself so much better than us?”
“How could you have that impression?” said Elizabeth.
Louise shrugged. “Oh, indeed, how could I have that impression of you? You, who would not join our card games and adhered to your book, who only spoke up to sneer at whatever conversation we were having, who—indeed—did not trust us enough with your precious sister that you must come and oversee our care of her whilst she had a cold.”
Elizabeth swallowed. So, that was what Louisa Hurst thought of her.
“Did he truly trick you into it?” said Louisa. “Did he put laudanum in your drink and do it when you were sleeping?”
Elizabeth did not answer, but her lower lip trembled.
“Well, perhaps you see now,” said Louisa, “you see what comes of your pretentiousness. He has shown you once and for all, and you must lower yourself.”
Elizabeth felt tears threatening, because this was not fair, not at all. It was Louisa and Caroline who had thought highly of themselves, they who had ridiculed her, not the other way around. She had…
Well, if she was honest with herself, she had not had a high opinion of either of the sisters. She had thought she concealed that from them, but they had likely thought they concealed their opinion of her as well. Perhaps she had done as poor a job at it as they had.
Louisa sighed. “I am sorry. Perhaps that was harsh. I am not pleased with all of this, you see. It seems to be your fault, and I am taking it out on you. But it is Caroline’s fault, surely. She has been the architect of all of this.”
Elizabeth spoke, her voice careful, because it was trembling. “I am sorry if I was not fair to either of you. I did not mean any of it, and if I did behave as if I thought too highly of myself, you are correct that I have been brought low.”
Louisa sighed. “Oh, don’t do that.”
Elizabeth looked away.
“I suppose we were rather awful to you as well,” said Louisa. “Whatever the case, Eliza, you and I are to be tied together after this. You will be the mother of my child. So, we might as well bury the past, what do you say?”
“I would like that,” said Elizabeth.
MR. DARCY WAS surprised to hear that Caroline Bingley had called at Pemberley, early in the morning, and that she was with Georgiana, even then, as Georgiana did scales on the piano.
He did not wish to see Caroline. Truly, the woman got on his nerves.
He was too polite to say so, but he did not enjoy her company, and it was because she was insipid.
An original thought never escaped her lips, though she always acted as if she had thought of whatever it was she said—indeed, seemed unaware that she had not thought of it herself, fresh, in that moment, which must mean that much of what she heard passed into her brain without any conscious knowledge, only to surface, later, as her own original thought.
Perhaps in this she was not unique. Perhaps many other people experienced something similar, in fact.
He did not know why it was always so annoying when Caroline did it.
Perhaps it was because she seemed to carry some sort of torch for him. She was not subtle about it. She fawned over him, agreeing with everything out of his mouth and complimenting him on absolutely ridiculous things. Once she had complimented him on how even his handwriting was.
He had to be kind to Caroline for several reasons.
One was that he was not, as a general rule, impolite to anyone. It was wrong. He did not enjoy it when people were cruel to him, and he tried not to be cruel to anyone else.
Another was that she was the brother of his friend, Mr. Bingley, and it was especially good to be kind to the sisters of one’s friends.
And a third was that he had probably encouraged her interest in him, once upon a time, when he had not realized how very annoying and insipid she was. At the beginning, he might have liked her company more.
He had never really been interested back, not truly.
She was not the sort of woman that he could marry.
But then, all of that was in ashes these days after that terrible proposal to Elizabeth Bennet.
It had been six months ago at this point, or thereabouts, maybe more.
Whatever the case, long enough ago that he shouldn’t still be thinking about it daily.
But he was.
In fact, he remembered that he’d had word that Caroline’s brother had married Elizabeth’s sister, so this was why he did go in to seek Caroline out.
Also, he went because he knew that Georgiana disliked having her piano-playing interrupted in the mornings, so he was really on a mission to rescue his sister.
Caroline latched onto him immediately. “I’m so glad you came, sir. I actually would love to speak to you somewhere in private.”
He was astonished. “You and me, Miss Bingley? That hardly seems proper.”
“Right,” she said, sighing. “Well, just out of your sister’s earshot, then, I suppose.”
“Truly, it seems very odd that you are here alone,” he said, thinking this through. She was an unmarried woman, and coming to call here, in the morning, all by herself, it was not proper.
“Yes, yes, I am aware, but the situation is a bit dire, and we are truly in need of assistance, sir. I am here to throw myself at your feet, you see.”
He drew back, looking her over. Assistance? What sort of assistance could she require?
Whatever it is, you’ll have to provide it, because she’s your friend’s sister. Because you must follow the rules of polite society. Because decency requires it.
“My sister is with child,” said Caroline.
He raised his eyebrows. “Well, you must convey my congratulations, of course.”
“It is a difficult pregnancy,” she said, and he supposed things must be difficult if she was saying that word, “and my sister was urged to get some northern air, to get far away from London, in order to alleviate it. We were unable to find anything except a quite small cottage just a few miles from here, outside of Lambton, but the cottage is entirely unacceptable. There are no desks, there is only a sitting room, no morning room, no dining room, just a table in the kitchen, and it is… well, I would say you must see it, but it’s appalling, you must not see it, actually. ”
Mr. Darcy licked his lips. This was the dire situation? A cottage with no dining room? Was Caroline aware of the definition of a cottage? He cleared his throat. “Heavens, Miss Bingley.” He hoped he didn’t sound too sarcastic.
“Well, naturally, I began thinking of your dower house.”
He choked. Naturally? How was that the natural turn of thought when one was faced with the option of a lack of a dining room, to come to his house and make a request like that?
“I know, I know,” she said. “It’s shut up now, no one is out there, but we could come for dinner with you, at least until Mrs. Hurst is too large to be seen in polite society, and that would only mean you would need to have staff out there to see to our breakfast and luncheon. We have our own maids.”
Dinner, every night, with Caroline Bingley. God in heaven.
Think, he told himself, think of an excuse to say that she may not stay there.
He wished he was a woman. If he had been his aunt, Lady Catherine, the way to respond would have been a trill of laughter. What an idea, Miss Bingley. Out of the question, of course, but are you not so very enterprising? I admire your creative thinking.
He was not a woman, so he could not say it in that manner. Anything he said to bring an end to it all would come off quite differently. No, he would have to put her off in some other way, perhaps claiming some irreparable damage to the dower house?
He considered that, and he thought of saying the roof had caved in, but that was too easily discovered as a falsehood, and then he tried to think of something else—
And realized he was standing here, dumb and silent, saying absolutely nothing, and he had to say something.
“This is quite a request, Miss Bingley,” he said, instead. “How long will you and your sister wish to be living in my dower house?”
She winced. “It is quite a request. It is too much. I told Louisa I could not come to you, but she is in such misery, you know, and it is hard to tell a woman who is carrying a babe that she must continue to suffer.”
Oh, she had cornered him. “Of course, you must stay here, however,” he said. “We would be delighted to host you.”
“Yes, well, no one is going to be using your dower house for some time,” she said with a laugh. “Not until you marry and die and leave behind a wife, I should imagine. Which will not be for some time yet. So, I thought it would be a good place for us to stay.”
“And it will only be you and Mrs. Hurst there.”
“And our maids,” said Caroline. “Positively no one else.”