Chapter 58 Miss Bingley
Married? How could this be? When had he married?
Caroline paced back and forth across her bedchamber, wringing her hands as she struggled to make sense of it. During the Season, Mr. Darcy had been much sought after, yet he had shown no particular interest in any of the fashionable young ladies who had fluttered about him.
He had been his usual distant, brooding self when she left London to attend her ailing aunt in Scarborough.
It must have happened then.
Since her return, she had followed every society paper, and his name had appeared in none of them. She had assumed he was back in Derbyshire.
Caroline stopped pacing and rang the pull bell.
When a servant tapped upon the door, she threw it open.
"Ask Mr. Bingley to send up Mr. Darcy's letter. I wish to read it."
The servant curtsied.
"Yes, ma'am."
Caroline watched her depart, then resumed her restless pacing. Something was amiss, and she was determined to discover precisely what had happened while she had been away.
She should have insisted on reading Darcy's letter herself.
Her eyes narrowed further. Charles had hidden this from her. Deliberately.
She crossed to the window and stood gazing at the landscape beyond without seeing it.
Her thoughts kept returning to the reserved, cold man she knew.
How had he changed so profoundly? Mr. Darcy had looked at that woman in a manner she would never have believed him capable of.
He had not been distant or cold. He had been...
Besotted.
There came another tap upon the door.
"Come in."
The servant entered with a letter in her hand.
"That will be all, Hannah."
"Yes, ma'am."
When the door had closed behind her, Caroline dropped into a chair and unfolded the letter.
Tears filled her eyes before she reached the end.
He wrote of his happiness. Of his good fortune in having met and married a woman superior to any he had ever known. He wrote of her beauty and the sweetness of her character. He wrote as though he had discovered every happiness he had once believed beyond his reach.
Caroline's gaze dropped to the bottom of the page.
F. Darcy.
The signature was unmistakably his.
The letter had most assuredly been written by him, and yet it struck her as so warm, so heartfelt, that he seemed almost alien to her. He seemed a stranger. A man she had never truly known.
She sank back against the cushioned chair and closed her eyes.
Fitzwilliam Darcy was in love.
How could this have happened?
She had pursued him for seven years. And this woman, this nobody, had snatched him away in what seemed the space of a moment.
What did this Elizabeth possess that she did not?
Certainly not a fortune.
She was a Bennet from an insignificant estate situated scarcely three miles away. She was the sister of Jane Bennet, the very woman who had nearly ensnared Charles.
Caroline should have known it was an ill wind that blew nobody any good. Even then, she had known that leasing an estate in Hertfordshire had been a mistake. She had hoped instead for an estate in Derbyshire, where they might have been near neighbors to Mr. Darcy.
Caroline rose and began pacing.
Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks.
Dropping the letter, she threw herself upon the bed and surrendered to her misery. She mourned the loss of the man, the loss of the great estate in Derbyshire, and the loss of the elevated position in society she would have enjoyed as his wife.
At length, a dull ache in her neck roused her. She had fallen asleep.
She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked about the room. The afternoon light had faded considerably. Glancing at the clock, she groaned inwardly. It was nearly time to dress for dinner.
She did not feel like eating. She did not feel like leaving her bed. Indeed, she did not feel as though she ever wished to rise from it again.
But she was the hostess.
With a weary sigh, Caroline dragged herself from the bed and rang for her maid.
As she prepared for dinner, her thoughts took a darker turn.
Why should he be happy? And why should his perfect little wife be happy? Caroline made a decision. She would ruin his marriage.
How she would accomplish it, she did not yet know, but she would find a way. What could she do to avenge herself? She had squandered seven years pursuing him. Seven years of hopes and dreams, all for nothing.
Now he would pay.
She selected her most alluring dinner gown.
The neckline was daring, and the silk had been cut to flatter her figure to the greatest advantage.
When she had commissioned the gown, she had imagined wearing it for Mr. Darcy, to catch his eye.
To tempt him. Now she would wear it to show him what he had lost and to show his wife the lure of the woman she was contending with.
If nothing else, she would make certain that neither of them enjoyed a moment's peace during their stay.
A low laugh sounded in her throat.
The sound startled her maid. "Miss Caroline, ma'am? Are you well? Shall I bring you a glass of water?"
"No, Hannah. I am perfectly well." Caroline turned toward the mirror. "You must hurry with my hair. I do not wish to be late for dinner."
At the dinner table, Elizabeth was seated beside Mr. Bingley, while Darcy was seated beside Caroline.
Though Elizabeth found Mr. Bingley entirely charming, and he was attentive to Kitty, who occupied the seat on his other side, she could not help but overhear the relentless attentions Caroline was bestowing upon Fitzwilliam.
Even Georgiana, seated on Caroline's other side, appeared embarrassed, if the color in her cheeks was any indication. The woman openly flirted with Mr. Darcy, and as far as Elizabeth could determine, he did very little to discourage her pretensions.
Elizabeth was uncomfortable, but she did her best to remain attentive to her host. She was struggling to maintain her composure, for Caroline had placed her hand upon Mr. Darcy's bare wrist and had yet to remove it.
Then she remembered Jane. Her brow furrowed. How could this amiable, kind-hearted gentleman have treated Jane so poorly? He did not seem capable of such a cruelty.
Elizabeth resolved to discover the truth.
"Mr. Bingley, I understand you have met my elder sister Jane. In fact, it was about a year ago, was it not?"
Elizabeth saw his face flush.
"Yes indeed, Mrs. Darcy. I found your sister a most amiable and beautiful woman. Will she also be in Meryton?"
"Yes, sir. Jane and Sir Gareth are expected later this week. We shall hold the memorial service after their arrival."
"Do they travel up from London?"
"No, sir. They are traveling from his estate in Kent. Did you know my sister well, or was it merely a passing acquaintance?"
Before Mr. Bingley could answer, Miss Bingley spoke.
"It was merely a passing acquaintance. We did not remain in Hertfordshire very long.
We had far better things to do in London.
I enjoy the refinements of a superior society, and I could not endure being buried in the country a moment longer.
Charles agreed with me, and we were packed and on our way in less time than it takes to tell the tale. "
Elizabeth's gaze shifted to Mr. Bingley. She wondered whether he would agree with his sister's account.
His fair face was beet red. At least he appeared embarrassed. Was it because of his sister's rude interruption, or because of the manner in which he had left things with Jane? He had abandoned her to the censure and speculation of family and neighbors alike.
Elizabeth made no attempt to ease his discomfort.
As far as she was concerned, he deserved to suffer. Had not her dear Jane suffered? Jane, who was the sweetest woman in the world, had endured heartache because this social climber had not deemed a Bennet good enough for her wealthy brother.
Well, Elizabeth reflected, Jane was far better off without the Bingley siblings.
She was dearly beloved by Sir Gareth and his family. She was well removed from any connection that would have made Miss Bingley her near relation.
Elizabeth was drawn from her thoughts by Mr. Bingley's next words.
"Mrs. Darcy, how is Lady Beaumont?"
She studied his face.
He was sincere. He genuinely wished to know how Jane fared.
"Sir, my sister is very well. Sir Gareth is everything amiable and good. He loves my sister dearly."
Elizabeth was sorely tempted to tell him just how much suffering he had caused Jane, but out of family pride, she kept those recriminations to herself.
Instead, she said, "In her last letter, Jane hinted that she is in a delicate condition. That is why the Beaumonts will not arrive until later this week. Sir Gareth takes prodigious care of my sister and has arranged their journey in short stages to prevent her becoming overtired."
Elizabeth watched Mr. Bingley's face closely. Again, he blushed.
Elizabeth was angry. She was angry with both Bingley siblings.
Lowering her gaze to her dinner plate, she resolved to remain silent lest she commit an indiscretion.
Mr. Bingley turned his attention to the younger Bennet sister.
"Miss Kitty, do you reside at Pemberley with the Darcys?"
Kitty raised her eyes to meet her host's.
"Yes, sir. Lizzy is teaching me how to manage a household."
Mr. Bingley smiled kindly at the younger girl. “It appears that you could not have a better example to follow, Miss Bennet.”
This encouraged Kitty.
"Lizzy is providing instruction to both Georgiana and me, sir. We assisted my sister with the cowpox inoculations this summer. All the tenants received them, as did the Pemberley servants, and of course, we received them ourselves."
Mr. Bingley turned to Elizabeth.
"Cowpox inoculations, Mrs. Darcy? What is the benefit, if I may ask?"
"Inoculation with cowpox provides protection against smallpox, sir."
"How did you learn of such a thing, Mrs. Darcy?"
"I read about it while I was still living at home. The idea returned to me after I began visiting the tenants at Pemberley. It seemed to me that it would be a grave disservice not to offer the inoculation when it is so readily available."
Darcy spoke then.
"At first, our local physician would not hear of it. When Elizabeth asked him to place an order, he refused. I insisted, and we received the cowpox matter within a fortnight."
"Elizabeth and our two sisters went directly to work, and the entire undertaking was completed within three days."
With raised eyebrows, Bingley asked, "How may I obtain the vaccine, Mrs. Darcy? I should like to be inoculated, and I imagine Caroline would wish it as well."
Caroline lifted her sultry eyes to Mr. Darcy. "I should indeed, if Mr. Darcy would perform the procedure upon me."