The pews of the little church were filled to capacity, making the warm summer morning even more so. The frequent stares and not so quiet whispers circulating throughout the congregation only added to Darcy's growing discomfort. He stretched his neck to ease the strangling heat and gave Georgiana a small smile of encouragement. Could a simple church service be any more uncomfortable? At least it was nearly over and they would soon be on their way to Pemberley.
Meryton's portly, soft-spoken rector had finally come to the end of his very long sermon, which clearly had been written to astound his distinguished visitors, and he was now looking pensively into the faces of his parishioners.
“In closing, I will make short mention of the Bennet family. As you all know, the collapse of their beloved father is a great calamity in their lives. Mr. Bennet has shown little improvement as yet and his wife and daughters face a terrible uncertainty in the days to come. Let us pray for them.”
An assenting murmur ran through the crowd and the congregation quickly bowed their heads – all except for one. A thoroughly stunned Charles Bingley lifted his eyes to his sister with growing horror as the comprehension of Jane's circumstances became clear. For her part, Caroline sat listening to the prayer with all the piety of a perfect innocent.
Barely a breath after the final amen, Bingley was out the door of the church, leaving the rest of his party to make their own way home. Following after him, Darcy emerged from the church in time to see his friend striding angrily away. As Charles turned the corner and disappeared, Darcy caught sight of an expression that he had seen only once before in his study at Burnham House.
“Well!” Caroline huffed as she met up with Darcy. “I cannot say what has got into Charles.”
“Whatever it is, I dare say he will get over it soon enough,” Louisa smirked. “He always does.”
“Perhaps it was something said in church,” Darcy replied dryly. “We were under the impression that Mr. Bennet was not so very ill as the parson seems to think.”
“Oh, I cannot see why that would matter now,” Caroline dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “We are leaving, or at least we shall when Charles has gotten over his little tantrum.”
Nothing more was said during the short ride back to Netherfield. Upon their arrival, Darcy quickly got out of the carriage and offered his assistance to the ladies. He tried his best to ignore the conspiring, artful smile playing on Caroline's face as she was handed out, but she seemed intent on drawing him into her victory.
“The important thing is we have triumphed once again, Mr. Darcy, have we not?”
“WE have not done anything, Miss Bingley; and I beg you would not connect me to anything you imagine you have done. Please excuse us, my sister wishes to freshen up before we dine.”
* * * *
Caroline Bingley stormed into her brother's study in a fit of pique. There were a million things to be done before they could leave. There had better be good reason for Wilson's irksome persistence in summoning her here. Two steps into the room, she stopped short at the sight of her brother. His nervous pacing was nothing new, to be sure, but his earlier expression had now grown into one of searing anger, and that was something altogether unexpected. Whatever it was, though, it would have to wait. She had no time to soothe his ruffled feathers now.
“Charles, what, pray tell, is so important that you must interrupt my duties – and why have you stopped the preparations for closing the house? You are being quite difficult, you know.”
Bingley offered no courtesies. “Sit down, Caroline.”
“I really do not have time for this.”
“I said – Sit Down!”
His piercing glare forced her into the chair which had been placed in the center of the room. Warily she watched as he circled around her. I have never seen him like this! What ever is the matter with him? His temper seemed to increase with each passing moment, but he did not speak. Quite put out with his officious manner, she didn't wait for him.
“All right, I am sitting down. Now will you kindly explain yourself?”
“No, I will not. You are the one who needs to explain herself, Caroline!”
“Me? I have no idea what you are talking about; and I do not like the way you are speaking to me,” she snapped impatiently.
His voice became dangerously quiet. “What exactly did Miss Bennet say in her note to you?”
An expression of guilt spread across her face as she realized where the conversation was going, but she would not give him the satisfaction of confessing.
“Why – I believe she said she could not accept the invitation because her father had fallen ill. A cold or something of that nature.”
“Something of that nature?!” he cried in furious amazement. “The man collapsed with apoplexy; and you have the audacity to sit there and tell me he had a cold?! Did you really think you could keep this from me? This is too much, Caroline, even for you!”
“I did it for you – for us!” she hissed. “You are so infatuated with that woman that you cannot see the reprehensible connection for what it is. Their relations are in trade for heavens' sake!”
“Our father was in trade,” he countered angrily. “I should shake some sense into that conceited, arrogant little brain of yours. Trade is the source of our fortune; or have you forgotten that?”
“We are different,” she sniffed. “We are not engaged in trade now. We don't associate with those people. And besides, what makes you so sure that Miss Bennet's father is so terribly ill? The report could have been exaggerated.”
“There is no exaggeration. I have made inquiries as to the exact nature of his condition and it is grave indeed. How could you deceive me and allow Miss Bennet to think me a shallow, hard-hearted villain?”
“Charles, can you not see how ridiculous this is? Her family and connections are barely acceptable now; if her father dies, they would become intolerable. The estate is entailed and she would be penniless. Knowing the man's condition will not change the facts.”
“No, but it will change Miss Bennet's opinion of me. It will allow me to offer whatever support I can as she and her family face this dreadful time. And that is exactly what I am going to do, dear sister – with your help.”
“Oh, no! Absolutely not!” she sneered angrily. “I refuse to be any part of your idiotic pursuit.”
“Oh, yes! You will assist me!'
“I will not!” she spat.
She began to fear her defiance had fueled his anger beyond reason, but she would not back down. Her own future depended upon it.
“Caroline, you will do exactly as I say or suffer the consequences.”
“I shall not do anything that would in the slightest way encourage your attachment to Jane Bennet. Depend upon it!”
“Very well,” he replied stiffly, “then I suggest you finish packing immediately.”
“That is exactly what I intend to do. The sooner we leave here, the better!”
“Not we, Caroline, you. Since you are dead set against my intended pursuit of Miss Bennet's affections, I shall ease your distress by removing you from Netherfield.”
“What?” she fumed. “This is absurd! I am your sister, I –”
“Precisely. If you cannot support my position as head of this family, you shall not remain under my roof nor shall you receive another penny from me. Perhaps our cousin's widow will welcome you in Scarborough. I would be happy to write her,” Bingley offered.
“You are bluffing!”
Without hesitation, he moved swiftly to the door and swung it wide. “Wilson! Wilson!” As the surprised butler appeared in the doorway, Bingley locked eyes with his sister. “Wilson, have Miss Bingley's trunks brought down immediately and tell Rochester we shall want post horses as soon as may be. My sister is taking a trip.”
Caroline jumped from her chair and faced her brother with a fury of her own, only stopping herself when she saw the butler's impassive but attentive look.
“We need not be so hasty, Charles,” she smiled persuasively. “I am sure these matters merit further discussion.”
“There is nothing more to be said.”
“But this house, you cannot possibly manage without me to – ”
“Mrs. Middleton is quite capable, I am sure.”
Caroline swallowed hard. She could not let him send her off to Scarborough to be a pauper, dependent upon that insipid Mary Ashworth for her daily bread! Yet, the very idea of welcoming Jane Bennet as a sister, of accepting her as the new mistress of the house was repugnant. To have Mrs. Bennet and all those sisters as frequent guests, even permanent residents should the father die, was equally distasteful. But she had no choice.
A breach with Charles would put London society beyond her reach; that is, unless Louisa could be persuaded to secure a place for her in Mr. Hurst's home – and that was not likely to happen. Certainly her connection to Mr. Darcy and any chance of claiming his fortune and standing in society would be lost. Indeed, chances for any advantageous marriage would all but disappear. I cannot allow it! she thought frantically, she would not be reduced to a miserable life of exile and penury, not if she could help it.
“Perhaps Mrs. Middleton is capable,” she said at last, giving Charles her sweetest smile, “but she would not suffice should you want to invite any particular young lady to Netherfield. And I would be a much better hostess than I ever was on past occasions. I would certainly welcome whomever you invite, Charles. Surely you would not want me to leave now?”
Wincing at the triumphant smile her groveling had put on her brother's face, Caroline assumed a more customary manner and silently resolved to capitulate only to the extent that would secure her comfort.
“You may leave us, Wilson. My plans have changed.”
Wilson looked to Bingley, a new respect for his master reflected in his eyes, and received an approving nod. Retreating from an obvious field of battle, the butler backed out of the room and closed the door with a slight smile. The young man had finally asserted himself as master of his own house.
“Very well, Caroline, it is time for you to show how welcoming you can be,” Bingley said marching her to his desk where pen and paper were laid out. Slowly, she sat down.
Feeling her brother's constant presence at her back, Caroline composed an elegant note to Jane Bennet expressing regret (deep regret, Bingley insisted) at hearing the news of Mr. Bennet's illness and conveying a sincere hope for his recovery. Reluctantly following Charles’ explicit direction, she urged Jane (most earnestly, he insisted) to let her and her brother be of some assistance in this most difficult time. After two false starts and only one correction where Caroline was less than complimentary, the letter was concluded with a renewal of the invitation to tea, if Mr. Bennet's health would allow.
Wordlessly taking the letter from Caroline's outstretched hand, Bingley opened the door and placed it in the hands of Mr. Wilson, instructing him to send it right away.
Fortified by his success, Bingley turned back to his sister's brooding figure, “Now go get Louisa. I have further matters to discuss with the both of you.”
* * * *
“What luck, Jane! To have been invited to Netherfield again. You know I was very hopeful for you when Mr. Bingley first returned, but then after your father's illness, I lost all expectation. And now Miss Bingley has once again invited you to tea! Her letter is so warm and affable. I do believe she must favor you as a match for her brother. Oh, I knew your beauty and goodness would be to your advantage some day.”
“Mama, I cannot go. Father is still so very ill.”
“Nonsense! You shall go. Would you refuse Miss Bingley again? I think not. It has been days since your father first took ill, and except for the one turn, he has not changed a bit these five days. Kitty can sit with him one night. You must go and encourage Mr. Bingley, my dear.”
Jane was horrified. “Mother! I cannot! It is not fitting for me to accept a social engagement. Not at a time like this.”
“Oh, yes you can – and you shall. You must look to your future, dear – all our futures. If your father takes another turn, I am sure I do not know what we shall do. The Collins' would claim Longbourn in an instant and we would all be turned out in the hedgerows with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Would you have that on your conscience?”
Jane looked down at her plate, desperate to escape the obligation of having to answer, to escape the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
Mr. Bennet's condition had not worsened since the second attack; but neither had he improved. The doctor had done all he could and now only time would reveal the outcome. The uncertainty weighed on them all. She knew her mother was driven by desperation, but the calculated disregard for propriety was too much. Jane could not make a social call with her father so ill, yet her mother seemed determined to force just such a thing.
Adding to her concerns was the contradiction of Caroline Bingley. Last January's abrupt, barely-civil visit to Jane at the Gardiner's home in Cheapside was in direct opposition to the warm, gracious words contained in the invitation now lying beneath her mother's hand. Could she dare hope there was a sincere change of heart?
And what of the brother? A long, deep pang of sorrow pierced Jane's heart. There had been no response to her note explaining why she could not come to tea, and the silent days that followed had cast serious doubt on the true nature of Mr. Bingley's sentiments. Her fears were further validated by her Aunt Phillips' report just this morning of Netherfield being closed up again. If she were to be honest with herself, she would acknowledge that Mr. Bingley no longer cared for her. To accept Caroline Bingley's invitation would be devastating.
“I cannot do this. Please do not insist,” she implored her mother with every feeling she had.
“But indeed, I do, my dear, I do insist!” Mrs. Bennet cried, choosing to ignore her daughter's panicked expression. With eager anticipation she looked out the window, observing the weather, and was instantly disappointed. “What a shame it is a lovely day, for if it would rain, mayhap we could contrive to have you stay over again. Well, we shall just have to think of something else.”
* * * *
Very grateful to be out of the heat, Jane handed her gloves and fur-lined pelisse to the footman at Netherfield's front door and followed Mr. Wilson down the cool, dark hall. Although Mr. Bingley's carriage had afforded some shelter from the bright June day, it was not enough to relieve the discomfort of the heavy velvet gown she wore. Dabbing at the moisture on her brow, she fervently hoped her mother's ambitions for a fainting spell would not come to pass. It would not matter in any case, she told herself stubbornly. He no longer cares. I will stay only as long as politeness dictates and then leave. Hesitating at the door now held open by Wilson, Jane tried to minimize her flushed appearance then took a deep breath and entered the sitting room.
Caroline was the first to see her, and by the amused exchange that passed between Mr. Bingley's two sisters, Jane knew instantly that her wilted stated could not be overlooked. Mr. Darcy was kind enough to ignore her appearance and merely offered a small bow.
Casting a quick glance in Mr. Bingley's direction, Jane fully expected to be met with polite indifference, at best; but to her great astonishment, he seemed genuinely happy to have her standing in his parlor – even in her wretched state. She had little time to contemplate this latest Bingley contradiction, however, as Caroline quickly captured her arm and drew her further into the room.
“Miss Bennet! It is so good of you to come.”
“I am happy to accept your hospitality, Miss Bingley. I hope I have not kept you waiting.”
“No, no, not at all! What a lovely gown you are wearing, my dear. I believe I have never seen velvet in June.”
“I must confess, I had not expected it to be quite so warm today,” Jane replied, the redness in her face deepening.
“It IS June, my dear, and – ”
“And a beautiful day at that, is it not, Darcy?” Bingley threw his sister a warning glance as he neatly turned the conversation.
“Yes, Bingley, it is.” Darcy agreed heartily. “Very similar to Derbyshire this time of year. I think my sister would agree. Miss Bennet, may I be permitted to introduce you to her?”
Sister? Jane blinked in surprise. It was then she noticed the girl standing just behind him. “I would be honored, Mr. Darcy.”
Bingley joined Darcy and Georgiana as the introduction was accomplished. After a brief exchange between the two ladies, he followed Jane and took a seat beside her on the chaise lounge as Caroline began to pour.
Momentarily flattered by Mr. Bingley's attention, Jane had to remind herself of his impulsive nature and was determined that she would not allow him to trifle with her again.
“Miss Bingley, I hope you do not think me ungrateful, but with our circumstances at home, I really cannot stay long.”
“Yes, of course. I understand completely,” Caroline's smile was a bit too smug. “I would not think of keeping you from your father's side.”
“Miss Bennet,” Bingley exclaimed nervously. “Please allow me to offer my condolences on your father's ill-health. Until Sunday, I had not known the nature of his illness. May I ask, has he made any improvement?”
“Sunday?” Jane looked to Caroline and her puzzlement faded with understanding as she saw the blank expression on Caroline's face. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Bingley. He has neither improved nor worsened since the second attack.”
“A second attack? I am very sorry! Is there anything I can do? May I send for my doctor? He is very good.”
“I thank you, no. That will not be necessary. My father is resting comfortably at present. We have only to wait and see. My mother has been greatly affected and keeps to her room most of the day, but my sisters and I are managing.”
“It must be a great comfort having so many sisters to share your burden,” Mrs. Hurst remarked with little sincerity.
“And I remember Miss Eliza being quite attentive when you took ill during your visit to Netherfield last year,” Caroline added. “She must be a great comfort to you.”
“My sisters are most helpful and we are doing well enough; however, my sister, Elizabeth, is not at Longbourn.”
“Miss Eliza not at Longbourn?” Caroline pounced on the news with pleasure. “Pray tell us, Miss Bennet, what could she be thinking to go away at a time like this?”
“Oh, she does not know. Elizabeth received an invitation to travel with a distant relation for the summer. She was already away from home when our father took ill.”
Bingley tried to ease her obvious distress. “I know that you and Miss Elizabeth are very close. It must be very difficult for you to have her gone.”
“Will her absence be long?” Caroline wickedly pursued the subject. “Louisa and I were just this morning remarking on how much we were looking forward to seeing her again.”
“Unfortunately, I cannot say when she will return, Miss Bingley. The nature of her travels has made it difficult to communicate and we have not had a letter from her as yet.”
Mr. Darcy's tone was somber as he seated Georgiana across from Jane, choosing not to sit himself. “I am sorry for your difficulty, Miss Bennet. My sister and I hope that Miss Elizabeth may return soon, for your benefit and that of your family. My sister had hoped to make her acquaintance during our visit. Perhaps there will be another time.”
“Yes, I hope so. I am sorry for your disappointment, Miss Darcy.”
Georgiana smiled shyly at Jane. “Having the pleasure of your company today, Miss Bennet, I eagerly await the opportunity of meeting your sister. I have heard so much about her, and I hope our meeting shall not be long in coming.”
Caroline fairly seethed with vexation at the attention Elizabeth managed to garner from Mr. Darcy and his sister without even being in the room. One sister was bad enough, but two of them was intolerable!
Jane stayed above an hour before rising to take her leave. Mr. Bingley's attentions to her during the visit had been pleasing, and his behavior more admiring than ever, but she was resolved to keep her emotions in check. After the disappointment of his departure last November, his recent plans for another abrupt departure without explanation or farewell struck her with tremendous force. She could not think so ill of him as to believe him a rake, but clearly he was of an unsteady character; not a man she could trust, no matter what her heart tried to tell her.
* * * *
Happy to see the end of a very long day, Darcy opened the door to his rooms and finally allowed his thoughts free reign.
As Denham silently assisted in removing the layers of clothing, Darcy considered the events of the day. Jane Bennet had accepted the invitation to tea, yes; but her visit had been marked by a change in her manner toward Bingley that even he could see. She was more reserved and cautious than he had ever seen her – more so than she seemed months ago, when he thought her indifferent. With every fiber of his being, he prayed that it was not too late for his friend.
Having finished the nightly ritual, Denham bid his master a good-night and disappeared through the servant's door. Darcy stood in his dressing gown and considered the inviting chair and decanter of brandy that had been set out for him. With a small smile, he acknowledged Denham's uncanny ability to anticipate his needs, sometimes even before he knew them himself. Although knowing his valet's purpose behind the gesture was to soothe the effects of an evening with Caroline Bingley, it was with thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet that Darcy took up the glass and filled it, unsure if his inner turmoil was caused by relief or disappointment. Only after the brandy had taken effect did Darcy allow himself to examine his most painful thoughts – was Elizabeth’s absence mere happenstance or by design?
Further contemplation of Jane’s visit and her sister’s absence from home filled Darcy's head with more unanswered questions. Did she anticipate his coming to Netherfield with Bingley? Had she purposely avoided his company? He could not bear to consider the answers. He knew he should accept the finality this news demonstrated of his situation with Elizabeth, but his heart would not let him. Surely there was some way he could show her that he had changed, that he had listened to her objections of him and worked daily to improve his character in a way that she would approve.
Darcy filled the glass once more and took a long, contemplative sip. The once great desire to banish Elizabeth Bennet from his thoughts had long since been replaced with the knowledge that she would always be a part of him. His life had been changed for the better because of her. He did not believe it likely he could ever claim her heart, but he did hope for her good opinion. He dreaded meeting her, yet the thought of never seeing her again was insupportable. He couldn't bear to think that she was in this world and thinking ill of him. He desired – he needed – her good opinion and he had to find a way of securing it.
For now, there was nothing more he could do in Hertfordshire. At breakfast he would tell Bingley of his plans to leave.