Chapter 27
Study
Netherfield Hall
The Next Day
Two Hours after Noon
13 th November, 1811
The study at Netherfield had large bay windows, the wood stained dark, and the glass kept clean of dust. Bingley stood close, watching the raindrops smack into the panes and trickle down to the sills. A storm had blown up the previous night, snatching the last fallen brown leaves and flinging them skyward, snapping branches and strewing debris around the yard. A chalky river ran down the gravel drive, completely obscuring the crushed rock.
No one would risk their horses or carriages on the muddy, treacherous roads today, save in the case of direst emergency. Morning-calls were out of the question, of course, as Bingley himself would not dare to venture out. Consequently, his heart was as heavy as the sullen pewter skies. There would be no chance of him seeing Miss Bennet today. Moreover, his friend Darcy was gone, along with his relations, which meant that Netherfield was currently occupied only by Bingley, his two sisters, and his dull brother by marriage.
Though the Bennets had visited the previous day, Bingley had only managed fifteen scant minutes of conversation with his angel. Every time he saw Jane Bennet, Bingley fell more in love. He could never have imagined that such a beautiful face could pair with a sweet nature and kind heart. Most of the fine ladies of his acquaintance, even the ones who deigned to converse with a tradesman's son, were dismissive of the servants who so eased their lives. But Miss Bennet always made a point to speak to his housekeeper, Mrs. Nicholls.
The previous day, the two eldest Misses Bennet in the hall to inquire after Sadie, Mrs. Nicholl's niece, one of the Netherfield maids, who had been taken ill recently. Bingley did not think himself an inattentive master, but he had not even been aware that the girl had been feeling poorly. It merely showcased the Bennet ladies' goodness, he thought. They would be perfectly justified in expending all their energy and focus on their fellow gentry and in seeking to be married and escape from their cantankerous father. But instead, they spent their time in works of kindness and charity for their tenants and their lower-class neighbors.
His admiring thoughts were broken by a soft tap on the door behind him.
"Come in," Bingley called and turned toward the door. His gaze swept the desk, which was covered in paperwork, and he sighed. He did not like writing letters and studying the ledgers of the estate, but Darcy had impressed upon him the importance of such activities.
The door opened to reveal his two sisters, who entered with grave faces.
"Is something wrong?" he inquired.
"Might we both have some Madeira?" Louisa asked, gesturing at the tray by the window. Charles obediently poured wine for both of his sisters and handed the glasses over. The ladies, who had seated themselves on the loveseat nearest the fire, looked sullen, and each accepted a glass and took a delicate sip.
"What is wrong?" he demanded impatiently. He was familiar with this little dance; the ladies would accost him, and drink either wine or tea, and then demand something of him, usually of a pecuniary nature.
The ladies glanced at one another, and then Caroline turned her attention on him. "Charles, Louisa and I have spoken, and we are concerned that you are on the cusp of making the greatest mistake of your life."
Bingley stared at them in astonishment. "Whatever are you talking about?"
"We are talking about Jane Bennet," Caroline said in a hushed tone. "You are showing her a great deal of attention."
Bingley groaned, sat down across from Louisa, and said baldly, "Yes, I am paying her a great deal of attention, because I love her, and I wish to marry her."
Both ladies gaped and then shook their heads frantically.
"Charles, you simply cannot!" Caroline exclaimed. "She is not worthy of you or the Bingley name!"
"Not worthy of me? A beautiful, charming, elegant, refined, kind daughter of a gentleman? It is I who am not worthy of her !"
Caroline moaned dramatically. Louisa reached out to place a hand on her brother's knee. "Charles, my dear brother, while it is true that Miss Bennet is all those things, she has connections to trade and is poor."
"And I also have connections to trade and am sufficiently wealthy to support a wife and children."
Caroline hissed in exasperation and then said, "Brother, she does not love you. She does not even truly care about you! All she wants, all she needs, is to find a rich husband, and given that there are no other wealthy men in the vicinity, it is no surprise that she is focusing all her attention and charms on you. It is obvious to us that she wants nothing more than to entice you to offer for her!"
Bingley rolled his eyes heavenward, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs.
"You are correct," he said drily, "that she does not love me, because she refused my offer of marriage the night of the ball."
Caroline, who had taken a sip of wine as he spoke, choked, and to his slightly guilty pleasure, actually turned pink.
"You did not!" Louisa cried out, even as she patted her sister firmly on the back.
"It is impossible," Caroline gasped once she was able to speak again. "Miss Bennet would never reject you!"
"You are saying that I am lying?" Bingley demanded, and now his tone was sufficiently dangerous that both ladies were taken aback and actually fell silent for a minute.
"She must be pursuing Mr. Darcy," Caroline finally said. "Yes, that is certainly it; she is even more conniving and mercenary than we thought, as she has moved her cap from you to him so callously. Mr. Darcy is wealthier than you are, and nephew of an earl, and … Charles? Where are you going, Charles?"
Bingley had, in fact, stood up and took a few steps toward the door before turning back to scowl down at his two sisters. "Caroline, Louisa, this is an absurd and stupid conversation. Miss Bennet has no interest in Darcy. Indeed, Jane Bennet and I are now in an informal courtship, but I will thank you not to pass that on to anyone else. I do not wish to speak of this anymore, as you know exactly nothing of this matter."
"But Charles, our father wanted you to become a true gentleman! You cannot…"
"Enough, Caroline!" Bingley snapped. "If you do not like my choice of wife, you are welcome to leave and live off the proceeds of your dowry, though that would require a significant retrenchment on your part. As for you, Louisa, I am happy to have you and Mr. Hurst return to your own home in London instead of living here at Netherfield."
Both ladies became pale at these fighting words, and Louisa actually shrank a little. Caroline's eyes were bright with anger, and her mouth a thin line, but she at least stayed silent.
Bingley turned on his heel and stalked out of the study, thinking hard. The truth was that his sisters, especially Caroline, had long been inclined to run his life. He was an amiable man, and he disliked disagreements, and his sisters' desires in the past had never been at great cross purposes to his own. But now, in love with Jane Bennet, who was very unlike the high born ladies of the ton, he realized for the first time in his life that he would need to put his foot down. If Miss Bennet was willing to accept him, he would take her as his wife. If Caroline and Louisa whined about the Bennets in general, and Miss Bennet in particular, he would order them to leave Netherfield Hall. He was facing an upward battle in his courtship as it was, and the last thing he needed was for Miss Bennet to refuse his overtures because of his shrewish sisters.
He would not permit that.
/
Music Room
Darcy House
London
13 th November, 1811
Darcy relaxed back into a comfortable leather chair drawn up before the fire, built high with oak logs and crackling cozily. Georgiana sat illuminated by a candelabra, the light pooling amber across her pale hair and the slightly yellow pages of music on the stand before her. Her fingers danced gracefully over ivory keys as a winsome melody poured forth from the pianoforte. Anne de Bourgh sat in a chair much nearer the pianoforte, watching Georgiana's movements attentively.
The wind moaned around the eaves of the house, and Darcy glanced towards the window. They had raced a storm to London, with rain spattering the coach roof for the last half-hour of the journey. As he handed his sister and cousin out of the carriage, the rain had turned to a deluge, and they had all run up the steps to the door.
It had continued to pour all morning, as Darcy read and replied to his correspondence and made arrangements to deal once and for all with Wickham. His man of business would be bringing the many receipts for Wickham's debts on the morrow, and then Darcy would take action.
The rain had finally broken an hour past, though the wind continued to howl and bluster. Darcy pitied the poor souls forced outside to contend with puddles and cold. For his own part, he was quite content inside by his fire. He preferred the country, but Darcy House had been meticulously arranged precisely to his tastes. He was satisfied here, and even happy.
So why was his soul troubled by a dart of melancholy? He had pondered the puzzle for half the day, until a pert face with beautiful brown eyes had risen into his mind's eye. He realized that he missed the company of Elizabeth Bennet. Now that they were no longer living within visiting distance, he would be deprived of her sparkling wit and intriguing debates. Life would be duller without their lively conversations.
Georgiana reached the end of her piece and folded her hands demurely in her lap, and Anne applauded enthusiastically. "That was magnificent!"
"Most enjoyable, my dear," Darcy agreed. "You are both talented and dedicated to your playing."
Georgiana's cheeks dusted a delicate pink, and she said shyly, "Thank you both."
The door opened to reveal Darcy's butler, who stepped in with a familiar figure behind him. "Colonel Fitzwilliam."
Georgiana was on her feet in a moment and rushed over to embrace her cousin and second guardian, who was dressed in military attire. "Richard, how wonderful to see you!"
"It is good to see you as well, Gosling," he replied, returning the embrace. He looked down at the girl and said, "You look well, my dear, and perhaps taller than the last time we met."
Georgiana chuckled and said, "I think I may be a little taller. The country air definitely agrees with me."
"Anne, Darcy," Richard said, releasing his young cousin and turning toward the others. "I hope you are well."
"We are well enough," Anne said, "though I hope that you can assist us so that we may return to Hertfordshire soon. I do not thrive in the Town air."
"It will be my honor and pleasure to assist you in any way possible," Richard said promptly. "What exactly is happening?"
Darcy gestured for the colonel to sit down and pulled Georgiana down next to him, the better to support his dear sister through the upcoming discussion.
"It has to do with George Wickham," he said bluntly.
Richard's expression of curiosity gave way to cold rage. "What has that miscreant done now? Someone truly needs to give that man a push into a deep hole!"
"He made the mistake of taking a position in a militia regiment currently stationed in Meryton," Anne replied calmly, "which is the small town near the estate of Netherfield, where Mr. Bingley has been hosting our party the last weeks. Georgiana and Darcy both saw him in the village, and we are in agreement that the man is a menace and must be stopped. He is about to get that push you recommended."
Darcy, watching Miss de Bourgh, thought once again that the lady had changed a great deal since their failed wedding ceremony in Kent. Anne was still afraid of Lady Catherine, no doubt, but away from that autocratic presence, she was showing far more assertiveness than Darcy would have ever imagined.
"I have been saying that for months," Richard agreed, his eyes sparkling dangerously, "but Darcy never wished for me to take action."
"I was concerned about Georgiana," Darcy said, defending himself.
"You were, and I am grateful," Georgiana said briskly, "but I feel far stronger now that it has been a few months since Ramsgate, and I agree with Anne that it is time to deal with Wickham once and for all."
Richard cast an uneasy look at Anne, who said, "I have heard the whole story about Ramsgate. Richard, you are Georgiana's other guardian. Where were you when Darcy hired Mrs. Younge?"
The colonel grimaced. "I was training raw recruits in Brighton. I confess that I have not been a particularly diligent guardian, and I apologize for that."
"It was my responsibility," Darcy said wearily, his head bowed. "I am the one who failed to investigate Mrs. Younge's bona fides ."
"It does not matter who was at fault," Georgiana said. "The important thing is that Wickham must be held responsible for his sins and put in a place where he cannot harm others. We have discussed the issue at some length, cousin, and hope that you will assist us."
"Absolutely," Richard said with a grin. "I am going to enjoy this very much."