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Chapter IV

C harles Bingley felt himself at something of a crossroads.

It was odd, to be certain, for the preparations in which he was engaged were of the mundane variety, a visit to his family in the north, a journey he had undertaken many times. To use the term "preparation" was a rather glorified overstatement in Bingley's opinion, for he had done little more than consider the last months of his life that morning while picking aimlessly at his belongings. Granger, his valet, the good man that he was, would prepare all Bingley's clothes and other effects for their departure on the morrow. It was Bingley's task to gather whatever other possessions he wished to take, and in that task, he was failing miserably.

It was all Darcy's fault, though Bingley could not blame the man. What he had said about Netherfield was the truth, after all—gentlemen returned to their estates after the season, many remaining there until the events of the next season beckoned. Bingley had seen nothing of the place he had leased since the previous November. As the lease was only a single year, there was not much financial risk attached to it, but if he knew Darcy at all, he understood his friend would do everything in his power to ensure any investment made a profit. The autumn's harvest would affect the profitability of the estate, even if his income depended on the rents—should he not do everything in his power to ensure the estate's profitability? Even if it did not affect him, he had taken the lease to learn something of estate management, and in that, he thought he had failed, given his long absence.

To Caroline, of course, avoiding the place was far more important than any nebulous concerns of education or duty. Bingley was not blind—his sister had no wish to suffer Miss Bennet as a sister, nor did she wish to acknowledge the Bennets as family. In this, she consulted her own feelings, for she had ever aspired to join the heights of society; she considered the Bennets and any like them an impediment to her ambitions. Her common argument in favor of this was specious, though she would not recognize this; their father had only wished for the Bingley family to become landed, not to mingle with dukes. Had Bingley not known of Miss Bennet's indifference to him, he would not have considered Caroline's ambitions for even a single moment.

Which made Darcy's comments about Netherfield all that much more curious. His friend's public demeanor did not fool Bingley; Darcy was not a man who enjoyed much society, but he was not nearly so much of a misanthrope as he liked to portray. Even so, he had thought Darcy agreed with Caroline's assessment of the Bennets, of the unsuitability of Miss Bennet to become his bride. Had Darcy's opinion of them softened? There was no reason for Darcy to disapprove of Miss Bennet other than his contention that she did not care for Bingley—at least none that he could conceive. Did Darcy have some reason to doubt his convictions now, after six months had passed?

Doubt beset Bingley, and he wondered if he had behaved as he ought. All Caroline's arguments about the unsuitability of the Bennets notwithstanding, it was Darcy's assurance of Miss Bennet's indifference that had prevented him from returning. In his usual manner, Darcy had spoken with confidence, assuring Bingley that Miss Bennet would accept his suit should he offer, but for no more reason than her mother's insistence.

The question now plaguing Bingley was how Darcy had any comprehension of Miss Bennet's mind. To his remembrance, Darcy had spent little time speaking with her—he had spoken with Miss Elizabeth far more frequently. Bingley did not think Miss Elizabeth would have spoken of her sister's feelings for him, unless, of course, Bingley was making her uncomfortable with his attention.

Yet Bingley had seen nothing of such discomfort from Miss Bennet. Far from it, he had thought Miss Bennet had received him with as much pleasure as he had offered. Was Darcy's opinion of Miss Bennet's indifference to Bingley superior to his own? It was no exaggeration to suggest that Bingley had spent every moment in her company that he could contrive—was that experience not superior to Darcy's observation, no matter how discerning he was?

Confused, Bingley had little attention for anything else. No matter how long he considered it, however, there was little chance of attaining clarity. The only way he would know with no shade of doubt was to ask Darcy to account for himself or, better yet, to return to Hertfordshire and put himself in Miss Bennet's company again. To do so would no doubt invite heartache if Darcy was correct, but at least then he would not remain in suspense.

The thought firmed Bingley's resolve. He would return in the autumn as Darcy had suggested, and when he did, he would learn of Miss Bennet's sentiments. The benefits of having her as a wife far outweighed any risk of suffering further misery.

A great weight lifted from his shoulders, Bingley turned his attention to what he was doing and thereafter saw some success in preparing for the morrow's departure. His primary task was to set his affairs in order and neatly store his effects for his return. Bingley was not Darcy, who preferred everything ordered perfectly, but he was also not heedless of the need for neatness. In a short time, he had everything organized and went in search of his sisters. This decision would change his life.

Applying to the housekeeper, he learned his sisters were in the sitting-room making their final preparations. Thus, Bingley made his way there, intending to ask a question of them. After the fact, he could not even remember what he meant to say.

". . . how disappointed I am, Louisa," Caroline's voice floated out through the door standing a little ajar. "I expected more from Mr. Darcy. I was certain he would invite us to Pemberley this summer!"

Bingley grinned, even as he shook his head. Complaining about Darcy's failure to fall at her feet and offer Caroline everything he had was one of her favorite subjects and one about which she could moan at length. Bingley had endured such diatribes so often that he thought he could recite them back to her in his sleep.

"Then, when we arrived there," continued Caroline, "I was certain he would see my many sterling qualities and offer for me."

"It is distressing that he has dithered," replied Louisa. "What an excellent position in society we could boast if you were married to such a man."

"Even so!" agreed Caroline. "Yet he does nothing. Does he not recognize that some other man may snap me up if he waits?"

Bingley was hard-pressed to avoid a loud snort that would alert his sisters to his presence. Throughout London, rumors Caroline had Darcy firmly in her sights and would consider no other man ran rampant. In previous years, she had attracted some attention, for she had a handsome dowry and was not ill favored. It had been more than a year now since any man had expressed even a jot of interest in her, and that likely would not change until Darcy married. Caroline's delusion would be amusing if it was not so very pathetic.

"Do you suppose he will accede to his aunt's wishes and marry his cousin?" asked Louisa.

"I do not suppose it." Caroline sounded as if the very notion offended her. "She is four or five and twenty now, as I understand. If he meant to marry her, surely he would have proposed already."

As it happened, Bingley agreed with Caroline's assessment. Darcy had never been explicit about his intentions, yet Bingley did not think he would ever surrender to his aunt in such a way. The number of times Darcy had spoken of visiting his aunt with distaste suggested to Bingley that his friend had no desire to endure her as a mother-in-law when he must already endure her as an aunt.

"No," said Caroline when Bingley thought to enter the room and end this eavesdropping, "I put the blame on that woman's shoulders. She has drawn Mr. Darcy's attention, and now I must wait until he forgets her again ."

Bingley was at sea. That woman? Of whom was Caroline speaking? Bingley had heard nothing of Darcy's interest in any woman of the ton; the gossip would be in every sitting-room in town if Darcy had paid attention to anyone. Darcy was only a gentleman, but his ancient heritage, wealth, and connections to the earldom of Matlock and several other noble families gave him more than a hint of notoriety.

"It is unfortunate that he met her again."

"Unfortunate does not even begin to describe it!" spat Caroline. "It is nothing short of mercenary, for I am certain she planned it."

"How could she know he visits his aunt every spring?"

"Mr. Darcy must have mentioned it." Caroline growled in her fury. "If she had done as she ought and accepted that ridiculous parson, I would not need to lure Mr. Darcy in again. And it is nothing less than her due to live in such squalor, at the beck and call of his aunt. Too good for her by half!"

Now Bingley was completely confused. It was clear Caroline was speaking of Lady Catherine, but Bingley had heard nothing of Darcy's interest in any woman in Kent. Darcy was always reluctant to go and eager to return, though now that he thought on it, Darcy had returned later this year than was his wont. Was there a woman near his aunt's estate who had turned his head? Bingley chuckled to himself at the thought—Lady Catherine would not take such news well at all, especially if he came across a woman he liked when staying in her home!

"She is a gentlewoman," said Louisa.

"By the strictest definition only."

Bingley could almost see the sneer marring his sister's lips.

"Her father owns an estate, which makes her a gentlewoman."

"I care nothing for her. I only wish she would remain at her father's insignificant estate where she belongs. At least until his cousin removes them all from the property. Then she can live in squalor or join a brothel for all I care."

"Caroline!" reprimanded Louisa. "You will not use such disgusting language!"

"Oh, it is of no matter," said Caroline. "We departed Netherfield forever, and there will be no more opportunity for Mr. Darcy to see her. I can combat the mere memory of fine eyes I am certain. Mr. Darcy shall be mine —you shall see."

Several things clicked at once for Bingley—Caroline's constant mention of fine eyes in Hertfordshire, her comments about the estate, and the vitriol she used all pointed to one woman. Miss Elizabeth Bennet! The how of it quite escaped Bingley at present, but it appeared Miss Elizabeth had somehow been in Kent when Darcy visited, and Caroline knew about it. The way she had treated Miss Elizabeth had always suggested that Caroline considered her a threat. Bingley had not truly seen it until now, but he supposed Darcy had paid her more attention than any other woman he remembered. Strange though it was, it seemed Darcy's suggestion that Bingley return to Netherfield might have had something to do with his meeting Miss Elizabeth in Kent.

"Well," said Caroline, grabbing his attention yet again, "at least mousy Jane Bennet is no longer a threat. Charles's distance from her renders any thought Mr. Darcy might have of returning to Miss Elizabeth impossible. At least in this, we are secure."

Bingley did not hesitate another moment. The sound of Miss Bennet's name on Caroline's tongue and her allusion to keeping Bingley away spurred him into the room to confront his sisters.

"What do you mean, Caroline?" demanded he as he entered. "How did you keep me away from Miss Bennet?"

The expression of utter stupefaction on Caroline's face might have amused him in other circumstances. Whatever else she was, Caroline was rarely at a loss, such that occasions like this were to be savored. Bingley rarely felt he had the upper hand as he did now.

"What do you mean?" blurted his sister, a hint of fear appearing in her eyes.

"If you do not recall what you said moments ago, I shall remind you," growled Bingley. "You suggested that Miss Bennet was no longer ‘a threat,' as ridiculous as that statement sounds. You also insinuated that you kept her from me by some means. Tell me what you mean."

"Oh, Charles," said Caroline, "I only spoke of our success in persuading you against returning to Hertfordshire in the autumn."

Caroline was adept at hiding her feelings. However, Bingley could hear the nervous quaver of her voice and could see the darted looks she directed at Louisa for support. Louisa was not Caroline's equal for conniving, and her averted gaze told Bingley much.

"Caroline," growled Bingley, "if you think you will mislead me with such obfuscation you must think me deficient. I heard what I heard. It is pointless to tell me otherwise. Now, what did you mean when you suggested you kept me from Miss Bennet?"

"No, Brother, I shall not speak further." Caroline's jaw had that mulish set that spoke to her intransigence. "There is no need to speak of that woman again, for you are well rid of her."

"Caroline—" warned Bingley, his dander rising.

"I think that is enough."

The voice surprised Bingley and caused his sisters to jump in alarm. From behind a sofa set to the side, Hurst rose from where he had been lying, regarding them all with some asperity. Or rather, Bingley supposed he regarded his wife and sister since he did not look at Bingley once.

"The time has come for you to tell your brother the truth."

"W-What do you mean?" attempted Caroline.

Hurst looked at her with disgust. "You know precisely what I mean, Caroline. You are keeping secrets from him, secrets he has a right to know. Do you suppose your brother will appreciate you continuing to put your desires above his happiness?"

Rising from the sofa, Hurst rounded it and approached, his glare boring down pitilessly on the two women. "Now, Caroline. You will tell your brother all ."

"I second the notion," said Bingley. "Tell me what you did."

No two reactions could have been more different, for while Louisa looked down at her clasped hands with shame, Caroline regarded Hurst with horror. It was the first time in many months that Bingley had seen such an emotion from his sister, for she appeared almost terrified to relinquish her secrets.

"Now, Caroline," barked Hurst, provoking a flinch from his sister. "If you do not inform your brother of your machinations, I shall."

"What do you know of the matter?" demanded Caroline, finally showing a little spirit.

"That is a good question," said Bingley, eyeing his brother. "I have never known you to involve yourself with Caroline's intrigues."

Hurst chuckled though mirthlessly. "No, I am not involved. But even after three years of marriage, your sisters do not remember to look to ensure that I am not in the room when they plot together." With a gesture to the sofa he had recently occupied, he added: "It is situated there specifically because the sun shines in the window during the afternoon, rendering it a pleasant location for a nap. I know many things because they do not think to check the room before they set to plotting."

While Louisa regarded her husband with astonishment, Caroline appeared a little green. Bingley could not help the barked laugh that escaped his lips—they should know Hurst well enough by now to apprehend that he often napped on that sofa. It was fortunate for Bingley that they had overlooked it, though he expected they would not make that mistake again.

It was a herculean task to induce Caroline to confess to what she had done. If Louisa had not been involved, they may have learned nothing, for his older sister did not possess nearly the stamina of the younger, nor was she so convinced of her infallibility as Caroline. In the end, however, they extracted the truth from her unwilling lips. If Bingley had thought himself angry before, it was nothing compared to the fury that roiled in his breast at the knowledge of what they had done to that sweet, unassuming young woman.

"Let me see if I understand you correctly," snarled Bingley when he had the salient points. "Miss Bennet visited you in January , five months ago now, and after you sent her away promising to visit, you waited three weeks before you returned the civility. Though you will not own to it, I suspect you did so deliberately, and when you were there, you ensured she understood you were severing the connection.

"Not only did you treat her in an infamous manner, but you also treated me as a boy unaware of what he wants in life. Am I some child you must guide by the hand? Do my opinions not matter in the face of your lust for riches and the adulation of the masses?"

"It was—"

Bingley leaned close to her, provoking her to jump back in alarm. "Do not suggest it was for my good, Caroline. I decide what is good for me, not you . Your desires are not for my good, but for what you consider yours ."

Standing up straight again, Bingley regarded his sister, trying to see if she was at all sorry for what she had done. There was no such indication, for though she watched him warily, the set of her jaw spoke to her obstinate belief in the righteousness of her cause.

"Given your deception," continued Bingley, "I cannot imagine this is all. To conceal Miss Bennet's presence in town hides the potential that Darcy's opinion of her was in error."

"Or it may suggest her mercenary mother was not willing to allow you to escape," spat his sister. "Or do you forget that woman's behavior?"

"I forget nothing," retorted Bingley. "The fact remains that the responsibility to judge her motivations was mine , and you denied me that opportunity. Given your dishonesty, I must question everything about this matter, for you have proven I cannot trust you. As I recall, you claimed you wrote Miss Bennet a letter, and that she responded. Is this also a lie?"

It was clear at once that Caroline had no intention of answering him, which was proof enough in Bingley's mind.

"That is all the evidence I require," said Bingley, turning away from his sisters, afraid he would say something regrettable if he did not. "I never knew you were capable of such willful deceit and betrayal, though I suppose it was obvious. Jane Bennet was never good enough for you, for you wished for something more, something for which I care nothing at all."

"For my part," said Louisa softly, "I apologize, Brother. It was wrong of us to keep this from you."

"Yes, it was wrong, indeed," said Bingley, the pain in his heart growing at what he had lost.

"Hurst," said he, glancing at his brother-in-law, "you should hold to your plans and take my sisters to our family in the north. Perhaps Aunt Beatrice can knock some sense into them. It seems whatever good behavior my parents tried to instill did not fall on fertile ground."

"What do you mean to do, Brother?" asked Caroline, sounding more than a little fearful.

"At present, I hardly know," replied Bingley. "It has been above seven months since I last saw Jane Bennet. Given the weakness of character members of my family have displayed, I cannot say if she will want to have anything to do with me again. All I can say at this point is that I cannot give her up so easily. She may reject me, but if she does, at least I will not remain ignorant of her sentiments."

With those last words, Bingley let himself out of the room. His purpose he had not yet determined, but he had spoken the truth to his sisters. Whereas he had intended to go to Netherfield in September on Darcy's recommendation, now he did not think he could delay that long and had no desire to be with his sisters. Perhaps he could persuade Darcy to go with him rather than return to Pemberley.

There was also the matter of Darcy's knowledge of these events. Bingley did not think his friend would have kept such goings-on from him. Darcy's code by which he acted might very well have allowed him to keep secrets from Bingley if he thought it was for Bingley's good. If he thought so, Bingley meant to disabuse him of the sentiment and ensure he never did as much again. Besides, given what Bingley had overheard of his sisters' conversation, he now suspected that Darcy was harboring secrets of his own. Bingley knew he might not have a right to them, but he meant to ask all the same. Caroline would not appreciate the irony, but perhaps they would end up brothers after all.

Then again, given Miss Elizabeth's combative stance toward Darcy, his friend might not gain what he wanted without a fight if he was interested in a closer relationship with the fiery woman. Bingley chuckled and shook his head; Miss Bennet with her placid loveliness was what Bingley preferred, such that he could not imagine such a woman as Miss Elizabeth for a wife. Darcy, however, would no doubt relish the challenge she provided, and she was more than a match for him intellectually. It would be an interesting battle of wits if nothing else.

When he reached his room, Bingley took several steps at once. He sent for his valet, and while he was waiting for him, he wrote a quick note to his uncle apologizing for his change of plans. Granger appeared soon after, taking his master's new instructions without batting a lash, and the letter to summon an express rider for the north. Bingley instructed him to prepare for an immediate departure once those tasks were complete, then sent his man on his way.

As difficult as it was to feel this way, Bingley had no intention of staying in the house a moment longer than necessary and nothing more to say to Caroline at present. Tonight, he would stay in a hotel, and then make his way to his friend's house on the morrow. Depending on Darcy's response to Bingley's question, he might even go to Netherfield the day after, and he may just have some company when he went. The thought of seeing Miss Bennet again was so pleasant, that Bingley reflected on it until his man returned.

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