Chapter Sixty

A s Mr. and Mrs. Bingley journeyed to Netherfield, Mr. Bingley described the house to his bride in some detail. It was rather a waste of breath, as she would see it soon enough, but it occupied the time.

"If you do not like it, then we can always return to London," he assured her.

"After the babe is born," she reminded him.

"Yes, of course."

"Had you considered purchasing Netherfield?" the new Mrs. Bingley enquired.

Mr. Bingley shrugged. "The idea behind leasing the estate was to see if I liked being a landowner. Darcy was to help me understand what my responsibilities would be."

Mrs. Bingley was silent for a moment. Then she said, with some mortification, "And then he had to leave because of me."

"Do not let it worry you; I am certain he will return to Netherfield."

"How can you be certain?"

Mr. Bingley chuckled. "Because he is courting a young woman at a neighbouring estate and will doubtless not be pleased with the accommodations at the local inn! He will want to be our guest."

"Oh, I did hear something of that," Mrs. Bingley now recalled. "A Miss Elizabeth, was it?"

"Yes; she is one of five daughters. She is, I think, perfect for Darcy. And her older sister, Miss Jane Bennet, is soon to be married to your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam." Mr. Bingley thought it best not to mention that he, too, had been interested in Miss Bennet.

"I look forward to meeting them. Charles…"

"Yes, Georgiana?"

"Does Mrs. Hurst know about – about –" And here she gestured to her belly.

"No; it was not something I wished to put in a message."

"What will we tell her?"

"Are you more comfortable with her knowing that the babe is George Wickham's? Or do you prefer that they think the babe to be mine?"

"Either way, it will be obvious enough that I…" she trailed off.

"I do not think there is any way around that," Mr. Bingley replied gently.

"I suppose you are right. I would prefer that your family believe the child to be yours, but I understand if you do not like the idea."

Mr. Bingley considered it. How many people would know that he and Georgiana had not been married when the child was conceived? By stating that the child was his, he would be confessing to having anticipated his marriage vows. Was that preferable to having it known that he was raising another man's child as his own?

Finally, he shook his head; it was not about him, was it? It was about what would make his wife more comfortable. He would tell everyone that the child was his.

"We will say that the child is mine. Ah, there is Netherfield. Lean forward a bit, Georgiana, and you will be able to see the house."

She did as he bade her and saw a handsome, modern-looking house, giving every appearance of warmth and comfort. It was nothing to Pemberley, of course. Would she ever see Pemberley again? Probably not.

The carriage trundled down the drive and stopped. The coachman leapt down to open the carriage door, and Georgiana was soon handed out by her husband. The front door opened and a man and a woman came out to welcome them. Mr. Bingley performed the introductions; the woman was his older sister, Louisa, and the man was her husband. Harold Hurst.

"I could scarce believe it when I got your letter, Charles!" Louisa Hurst said. "Married to Mr. Darcy's sister! You are most welcome, Miss – I beg your pardon! – Mrs. Bingley."

"Oh, no, please, I am Georgiana."

"And I am Louisa. I have been acting as the mistress of Netherfield, and believe me, I shall be happy to relinquish the role to you."

Just then a gust of wind plastered Georgiana's skirt to her body. Mrs. Hurst's eyes traveled to Georgiana's rounded abdomen. "Oh! But you are – oh, dear!" Mrs. Hurst went pale, clapped her hands to her face and leant against her husband as if she would faint.

"Might we not get out of the wind?" Mr. Bingley demanded irritably as Georgiana burst into tears.

Moving quickly into the house, they were greeted by Netherfield's butler and housekeeper. The two were far too well-trained to betray their surprise at learning that Mr. Bingley was married, but the news would be shared below stairs very soon.

***

An hour later, having seen his new wife comfortably settled in her bedroom, Mr. Bingley knocked on the Hursts' bedroom door. It was opened by his sister. "Come in, Charles."

"I would like to explain my wife's situation."

Mr. Hurst now appeared and sat beside his wife.

"Go on," Louisa said.

"She and I married six months ago in a private ceremony."

There was a long silence. The Hursts traded glances. Finally, Mr. Hurst said, "Odd that we knew nothing of it, as I think we were all together six months ago."

Mr. Bingley merely replied, "Odd indeed."

Another silence. This time it was broken by Mrs. Hurst. "You expect us to believe this Banbury tale, Charles?"

"Louisa. Hear me well. Miss Darcy is now Mrs. Bingley. She is in the family way and we both look forward to having a child early this coming spring."

"But you were seen paying attention to Miss Bennet!" his sister insisted.

"So? Would I be the first married man to carry on a small flirtation with a beautiful female?"

"I suppose not," Mrs. Hurst allowed.

"Excellent; here are the details of our history." And here Mr. Bingley told them the details he and Georgiana had agreed upon: when they had married, where the ceremony had taken place, and why they had briefly separated – Darcy family matters, of course – until their happy reunion this past week in London.

"I suggest you memorize all of this," Mr. Bingley told them. "And if Caroline ever hears a word to the contrary, I will know that you have betrayed me. You recall our discussion about never putting her interests above mine, I trust?"

Both Hursts nodded.

"Very well. Louisa, Georgiana is full young to be the mistress of a household, but she is, in fact, mistress here. I hope I can count on you to assist her in learning and executing her duties."

"Of course, Charles."

Mr. Bingley expressed his gratitude and departed, leaving his sister and brother by marriage to speculate on what had happened to turn their mild-mannered, even-tempered, wouldn't-say-boo-to-a-goose brother into this entirely new individual.

***

That evening at dinner, Mrs. Hurst told her new sister that they had been invited to attend a wedding at the end of the week.

"Oh?" Mrs. Bingley replied. "Who is getting married?"

"The eldest daughter of Sir Lucas and Lady Lucas. Her name is Charlotte."

"I recall Miss Lucas," Mr. Bingley said. "Who is it she is marrying?"

"A Mr. Collins. He is the heir presumptive to Longbourn."

"Oh! Darcy mentioned that he had met the man. Turns out he is your aunt's rector, my dear," Mr. Bingley said, turning to his wife.

"My aunt?"

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh."

"He is her rector! What an odd coincidence!" Mrs. Bingley spoke easily, but she was thinking furiously. Was it a good idea for her to meet this man? Doubtless he would report back to Aunt Catherine that she was now married and with child, and Aunt Catherine would be livid that she had not been informed of , not to mention invited to , the wedding. And, of course, Aunt Catherine would be even angrier at the idea of her niece marrying the son of a tradesman! Would life ever stop being so difficult?

But wait. No-one here in Meryton knew she was a Darcy except Mr. Bingley and the Hursts. Surely… "Charles!" she said.

"Yes, Georgiana?"

"It would probably be best if I were introduced simply as Mrs. Bingley, not as…"

"Ah. Of course," Mrs. Hurst said, quickly. "Your maiden name is no one's business. I take it you have never met this Mr. Collins?"

"No, and I would prefer that he have no tales to take back to my aunt."

"We will protect you," Mr. Hurst said, unexpectedly.

Tears started in Georgiana's eyes. "I thank you," she whispered.