Chapter Forty

O nce Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam departed, Miss Bingley went upstairs to attend to her packing. It was a slow process, as Peggy was packing and Miss Bingley was simultaneously unpacking. Unsurprisingly, very little progress was being made.

Louisa knocked and walked in. Seeing what was occurring in her sister's bedroom, she shook her head. "Caroline, Charles is serious."

"I merely need to delay him and he will change his mind. He always comes ‘round, you know, Louisa."

"I do not think he will come ‘round, as you put it, this time."

Caroline scoffed. As if in response, there was an impatient knock on the door. "You have exactly one hour, Caroline, and then I am throwing you into the carriage. Whatever is not packed by then will be given to the maids. They doubtless deserve it, given what they have put up with from you."

Louisa raised an eyebrow at Caroline, who immediately snarled, "Peggy! What is taking you so long? Pack faster!" Poor Peggy burst into tears, but moved to pick up everything Caroline had dumped onto the floor and returned it to the trunk.

Louisa left the room before she, too, was conscripted into helping pack. She went into her husband's room, where Harold was snoring. She poked him awake. "Harold!"

"What?" he moaned, rolling over.

She had never known anyone to sleep as much as Harold. He awoke late, broke his fast and promptly returned to his bed for a morning nap. He also took an afternoon nap between tea and dinner.

"Caroline is leaving in an hour."

One eye opened and peered at her. "Is this truly happening, Louisa?"

"I think so, Harold."

The eye closed. "Please wake me if she actually does leave. I would not want to miss such a momentous occasion."

***

Bingley was conferring with his valet. "We will be gone likely a week or more, Dunstan. Two weeks, to be safe."

"Will you be attending any balls, sir?" Dunstan asked.

"Balls? No, I should think not. I will be going to my solicitor's office and helping my sister look for lodgings. I will likely see Darcy at some point, as he will be in Town as well, but I imagine that will be the extent of my social obligations."

"I understand, sir." Dunstan had been Mr. Bingley's valet for some years now and knew him to be a very sociable gentleman. He packed his employer's best coat and boots, just in case, as well as his very favorite waistcoat. Fifteen minutes later, Dunstan rang for a footman to carry Mr. Bingley's trunk down to the carriage.

Informed that the horses were hitched to the carriage and his own trunk was strapped onto the back, Mr. Bingley pounded on his younger sister's door. "Time, Caroline!"

"I am not quite ready, Charles."

Mr. Bingley threw open his sister's door and nodded to the two footmen who stood ready. Miss Bingley's trunk was still open. The footmen slammed it shut, latched it, and carried it downstairs, oblivious to Miss Bingley's angry protests.

Her brother turned to her. "Shall I escort you downstairs, Caroline, or shall I call the footmen back and have one of them carry you out?"

Miss Bingley's tears were – finally! – real. "Charles, Charles, I beg you, do not do this to me."

Her brother looked at her sadly. "It is far too late, Caroline. I will not be moved." He offered her his arm.

She took it, weeping in earnest, and he led her to the carriage, followed by Peggy and Dunstan. Mr. Bingley closed the carriage door.

"Charles, you are not joining us?"

"I will ride beside the carriage, Caroline." He had no wish to watch her cry or abuse the servants for the next three hours. Perhaps he should have sent the servants in a separate carriage. Ah well, too late now.

Louisa and Harold watched from his bedroom window as the entourage departed. They both took a deep and simultaneous breath.

"Louisa…" Harold said.

"Yes, Harold?"

"I cannot remember the last time I felt this happy. Come here!"

She obeyed and the two of them, laughing, celebrated their newfound freedom in his bed.