Chapter Twenty-Seven

M r. Bingley knocked rather sharply on Louisa's bedroom door. "Louisa?"

"Charles?" The door opened a crack.

"I would speak with you, Louisa."

"Nancy is just finishing my hair; I am certain whatever it is you wish to speak about can wait."

"It cannot." Mr. Bingley pushed the door open and walked in. Harold Hurst was lying on his wife's bed, evidently napping. Mr. Bingley poked Harold in the ribs, hard. "Wake up, Hurst."

Startled, Mr. Hurst sat up, blinking. "What? What is wrong? Bingley? What are you doing here?"

Mr. Bingley swung around to address a startled Nancy. "Leave us, Nancy. Your mistress will ring for you when she is ready."

Louisa opened her mouth to argue, but the look her brother turned on her had her closing it again. "What in heaven's name has gotten into you, Charles?'

"I will tell you what has gotten into me, Louisa. I believe someone in this room told Caroline that the Colonel and I had an agreement as to him backing away from Miss Bennet under a certain circumstance. Is that right?"

The look on both their faces answered his question.

"May I ask what I have done to deserve this betrayal from the two of you?"

Louisa cleared her throat. "Charles, I am just trying to protect you."

"From what, precisely?"

"From marrying beneath you."

"And where did you learn that tradespeople are of a higher social class than the landed gentry? I believe we had the same governess, you and I, Louisa, as it was only Caroline who went to seminary, and I do not recall that being among our lessons."

"Well, no, of course not, but –"

"Yes?"

Louisa was now feeling quite uncomfortable. "Caroline thinks –"

"And you take your marching orders from Caroline, do you?"

"You know how she is, Charles." Louisa was angry now. "I have never seen you stand up to her either."

"You are right about that, Louisa, but that is about to change. I take it that you learnt of the agreement between the Colonel and myself from your husband here. Now that I recollect it, he was present at the time the agreement was reached. Is that right, Louisa? Or do you listen in at doorways the way Caroline does?"

Louisa looked over at her husband.

Mr. Bingley nodded. "That is what I thought. Tell me, Hurst, what have I ever done to injure you? I support you. You drink my wine and eat my food. You lounge about in my house. How is it that Caroline has your loyalty, rather than myself?"

Hurst answered, "Since you ask, Bingley, I will tell you that Caroline is a damned sight scarier than you are. You will forget this conversation in a day; Caroline remembers slights and insults for years. Am I not right, Louisa?"

His wife nodded. "Charles, do you remember the time that I borrowed one of her ribbons to wear to a dance, but neglected to ask her permission to do so?"

Mr. Bingley said, uneasily. "Yes."

Louisa continued, "And one year later, to the day, I found all my own ribbons shredded. I accused Caroline and she appealed to our mother, claiming innocence, saying she had no cause to ruin my ribbons."

Bingley winced. "And by waiting a year, she knew she would not be blamed for it. It has been pointed out to me that she is far cleverer than I am. If she had my best interests at heart, this would not be a bad thing. But as she only cares for herself, her cleverness works to my detriment. Do you agree with that?"

Mr. Hurst snorted. "That has been obvious for years, Bingley."

"And yet you never bothered to point it out to me, Hurst," Mr. Bingley replied, angrily.

"Would you have listened to him, Charles? To either of us?" Louisa asked.

"I suppose not. But mark me – things are about to be very different. I have lost Miss Bennet to the Colonel; that I cannot change. But I will never be placed in such a position again."

The Hursts listened in skeptical silence.

Mr. Bingley saw their expressions, and his face hardened. "Listen to me, both of you. I do not think you will have the opportunity to choose Caroline's well-being over mine again, but if you ever do, I will have you out of my house immediately. Do not test me on this, either of you." With that, Mr. Bingley left the room, slamming the door hard behind him.

He then went to Caroline's door; he could hear her giving a set-down to her maid. "What?" she yelled in response to his knock.

"It is Charles. Open the door, Caroline."

"I am busy, Charles."

"Are you dressed?"

"Yes."

The door was flung open and Charles strode in. "Leave, Peggy."

Peggy looked at Caroline.

Mr. Bingley said, irritably, "No, Peggy, it is I who pay your wages, not my sister. I told you to leave, so go. Now."

The maid scurried off.

"Charles, what in the world is going on?"

"Caroline, it is your fault that I no longer have a chance with Miss Bennet."

"You will thank me one day."

"No, I will not, because you and I will not be speaking."

"We will not be – what can you mean?"

"You are moving out, Caroline."

Caroline stared at her brother for a minute, mind working furiously. She could not imagine what had caused this, but it had to be corrected right away. "That is impossible, Charles, you know that."

"Tell me, Caroline, why is it impossible?"

"Because I am your responsibility!" She thought quickly of Chirpee and her eyes obediently became teary.

Bingley felt himself weakening at the sight of his sister's wet eyes, but then recalled his conversations with the Colonel and Darcy. His heart hardened. "There is no point in your crocodile tears, Caroline. I am abrogating any responsibility for you. Tomorrow morning, you and I will set off for London, where I will meet with my banker and my solicitor. I will release your dowry to you and then I will send notices to your various dressmakers and what not, telling them that I will no longer be responsible for your bills. Have you any questions for me? No? Very well, Caroline. You may stay at Bingley House until we find a townhouse that you can afford, and then you will no longer be welcome either at Bingley House or Netherfield." He turned to go.

Caroline put out a hand to stop him from leaving. "No, Charles, wait. I am sorry for anything that I have done to upset you."

"Truly, Caroline?" He turned back to face her.

"Truly, Charles." She made her voice penitent.

"And what might you have done to upset me, do you think?"

She immediately lost her patience and stamped her foot. "Charles, seriously, you know you can do better than Jane Bennet! For heaven's sake, stop pouting."

"So you truly have no idea what I am talking about."

Caroline was silent. She was beginning to think that she might have truly overstepped.

"Begin packing, Caroline. We leave tomorrow morning. You may take Peggy with you or not, as you wish, as you will be paying her wages from now on."

He leaned against the wall outside her door, shaking. He had stood up to both his sisters. The earth had not fallen into the sun, but his stomach was roiling and his heart was pounding. He would need one of Dunstan's tonics tonight.

He knew he had been able to speak so to Caroline only because he had been so angry at having lost Miss Bennet. He had become a strong man, perhaps one worthy of Miss Bennet, only after he had lost her. The irony was not lost on him.

Why, oh why, could he not have had a different younger sister? Someone like Miss Georgiana Darcy, perhaps; now there was a lovely young lady. She was everything gentle, kind and good. Likely she never gave Darcy a minute's trouble. How he wished he could trade Caroline Bingley for Georgiana Darcy!