Darcy in Want of a Wife

Chapter 29

London

The Next Day

The Hursts’ carriage rattled over the cobblestones as it made its way down the busy streets of London. Caroline sat very still in her seat, her hands clasped in her lap as she gazed out the window at the passing buildings. Although she had been the one to insist that they call upon her brother and his wife, she was somewhat nervous of her reception. Jane was a gentle creature, but even she must have her limits, and Caroline had done her utmost to prevent the marriage between Jane and Charles. Charles almost certainly still held a grudge.

Caroline hoped to be able to mend the rift between them quickly and without issue. She now knew that both Charles and his wife had been invited to numerous gatherings over the past few weeks, and Caroline was eager to become a participant in future outings. Her brother had many friends, after all, and Caroline realized that she would be unable to take advantage of the situation if she were not in his good graces. She also hoped to receive a denial of the rumor that she had heard, that Mr. Darcy was paying special attention to one Elizabeth Bennet.

On the seat opposite her, Louisa was anxiously working her lace kerchief through her hands where she sat beside her husband. Louisa, not as strong willed as Caroline herself, had feebly opposed visiting the Bingleys today, fearful of some kind of ugly scene that would upset her husband. Mr. Hurst had stated that he was absolutely determined to foster a peaceful interaction between his wife and his brother-in-law in order to restore a good relationship between them and then had declared that the entire debacle regarding Jane Bennet was ridiculous. He stated that the new Mrs. Bingley was a charming young woman and a gentleman’s daughter at that, and there was no reason for anyone to disapprove of the marriage other than out of selfishness and greedy ambition. Caroline ground her teeth at the memory of that particular conversation. Yes, Jane Bingley was a gentleman’s daughter, but her mother was vulgar and garrulous and a solicitor’s daughter, and it was horrific that her own brother would marry so low when he could have wed Miss Darcy herself! Then Caroline would have been connected by marriage to the Darcys, and the Matlocks, and even the de Bourghs.

It was not in Caroline’s nature to knuckle under the orders of a man who was neither husband nor brother. On the other hand, she needed the Hursts rather desperately; she could not live alone, of course, and in any case, her own income was not sufficient to pay for food and shelter and clothing.

She grudgingly understood her brother-in-law’s view of the matter, as he benefitted considerably from Charles’s support. Mr. Hurst received a decent allowance from his aged father, and the younger Hursts were permitted to stay in the Hurst House in London, so they were far from destitute. But until the elder Mr. Hurst passed and left his estate in Scarborough to his son, the Hursts were forced to manage their funds in a manner more frugal than either preferred.

The carriage slowed to a halt in front of a house, breaking into her thoughts, and a few seconds later, a servant opened the door. Hurst, who was a trifle stout, levered himself out of his seat and onto the ground, and he reached in to help out first his wife and then her sister. “Return in half an hour, Holmes,” he instructed the driver.

“Oh, we should stay longer than that,” Caroline protested. “An hour, perhaps?”

“Half an hour,” Hurst repeated, gazing at his coachman, who nodded obediently and drove off. He waited until the servants were out of earshot and then turned to his sister-in-law, whose lower lip was outthrust, just slightly, in the beginning of a pout.

“Caroline, you insulted Mrs. Bingley grievously the last time you laid eyes on her,” Hurst said sternly. “We will not overstay our welcome today; half an hour is the correct amount of time for a morning call, and we will not stay a minute longer. Do you understand?”

Miss Bingley flushed at these words and narrowed her eyes. “Louisa and I are Charles’s sisters! We are not mere visitors.”

“Mere visitors might be welcomed for more than thirty minutes,” Hurst replied drily. “They did not, presumably, do everything in their power, including lie, to separate your brother from the woman he loves.”

“But,” Caroline began, only to be interrupted.

“Sister,” Hurst said ominously, “I have allowed you to stay at Hurst House with us, but if you cause any more problems with Bingley, I will expel you. Is that clear?”

Miss Bingley froze and turned an outraged eye on her brother-in-law. “How dare you say such a thing?” she demanded shrilly. “Louisa would never permit you to send me away. Would you, Louisa?”

Louisa, who always hated being pulled between sister and husband, hesitated and then said, “It does not matter, because we have no intention of causing trouble for Charles or Jane, do we, Sister?”

Caroline was angry at this lack of immediate support, but Hurst merely took his wife by the arm and said, “We should not stand around on the walk like this. Come along.”

Caroline reluctantly climbed the steps to the front door in the wake of the Hursts, muttering to herself as she did so. The address was well enough, she supposed, but the house looked quite small and not at all sufficient for her wealthy brother. But that was probably Jane’s doing; she was merely a country girl and likely did not feel capable of serving as mistress to a lavish Town house.

The door was opened by a butler whom Miss Bingley recognized as having served at Netherfield. To her annoyance, the man informed them that he was not certain if his master and mistress were home and told them to wait while he investigated.

She was inclined to fuss at this; she was the master’s very sister! But Hurst scowled ferociously at her, and she held her tongue with difficulty.

Minutes later, the butler returned and told them that the Bingleys were available. The visitors followed the man down the corridor and into the drawing room.

It was no great thing, not particularly large, with unfashionable furniture and slightly faded curtains. Charles and Jane Bingley were standing by the fire, and Caroline was annoyed to observe that they were holding hands. Really, they were acting more like bumptious tenant farmers than members of the upper class!

“Charles, Jane!” Louisa gushed, taking a few steps forward, an anxious smile plastered on her face. “It is so good to see you. I hope you are both well?”

“Yes, we are well,” Charles said, his voice cool. “What are you doing here?”

Caroline was torn between the desire to insist on a warmer welcome and anxiety that Mr. Hurst would actually toss her out of his own house if she caused problems.

“We are here in the hopes of healing the breach in the family,” Hurst said, stepping up next to his wife. “I am well aware that Louisa and Caroline both caused a great deal of trouble to you, but we hope that you are willing to forgive them – and me, for that matter, as I did not put my foot down earlier. We know that you are very well suited and are delighted at your marriage.”

This description of past events did not please Caroline in the least, but it had the benefit of causing the Bingleys to relax.

“We are very happy,” Charles said. “Very happy indeed.”

“Will you not sit down?” Jane invited, and Caroline immediately took a seat on a shabby green chair. It was, at least, comfortable.

The Hursts took their places on a couch, and the Bingleys sat together on a blue loveseat.

“I understand that your father has been unwell, Mr. Hurst,” Jane said sympathetically. “Is he any better?”

“He is. Thank you, Jane,” Mr. Hurst replied. “It was merely a case of influenza, but it was a serious attack, and he is not a young man. He is largely recovered now.”

“Influenza can be difficult even for the young,” Jane said. “I am thankful that he is mostly healthy again.”

“I hope your parents and sisters at Longbourn are doing well?” Louisa said, wearing a rather fixed smile.

“Yes, very well, thank you,” Jane said just as a maid entered with tea. This was a relief to the entire party; they might not be able to speak with ease, but they could enjoy tea and ratafia cakes. Caroline was relieved that her brother obviously employed excellent cooks. The cakes were exquisite, but the ensuing conversation was more tedious than anything else, as Jane and Charles and Hurst talked the most. Caroline desperately wished to ask whether Elizabeth Bennet was in fact in Town, but was fearful that she would not be able to keep from grimacing in disgust if the answer should be affirmative.

Fifteen minutes later, Mr. Hurst rose to his feet and held out his hand to his wife to stand up as well. Caroline reluctantly stood up with them and forced herself to smile and hold out her hand to her brother and sister-in-law. “Charles, Jane, I am very thankful that you are here for the Season, and I hope that we will see one another again soon. My friend Miss Julia Linden has arranged for us to attend her Uncle Holmes’s ball next week; I hope you will be there?”

“Perhaps,” Bingley said with a noticeable lack of excitement. “Jane and I need to decide on our plans for the next week.”

“We do not like to be out every evening,” Jane continued and turned adoring eyes on her husband, which only annoyed Caroline further.

“Of course,” Caroline said, keeping a smile firmly pinned on her face.

“Well, our carriage should be here,” Hurst remarked. “It was wonderful seeing you both again, and thank you for your hospitality.”

“It was our pleasure,” Jane said.

Caroline opened her mouth – it was now or never, and she simply had to know.

“Jane, is your sister Eliza…”

The door opened to her right. She glanced over, and the words died in her throat.

Two individuals entered the room arm in arm, and one was Elizabeth Bennet herself, dressed in a simple, tan dress that Caroline thought was rather boring, over which she wore an admittedly pretty, scarlet shawl with burgundy embroidery. Her hair was pinned up in a plain bun, from which several strands of unruly hair wisped free, and her cheeks were aglow with exertion. Caroline, after enjoying a brief moment of disdain for the woman’s appearance, turned her attention to the gentleman by her side.

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy glanced around the room, his handsome brow puckering somewhat as his gaze fell upon Caroline and her relations. He had a hand atop Elizabeth’s own hand, which rested on his arm, and it was obvious that he and Elizabeth had just returned from an outing. Mr. Darcy was elegantly dressed in morning attire, though not as finely as many of the bachelors among the ton. The master of Pemberley did not bother with fancily arranged cravats, or numerous rings on his fingers, or knobs and seals on his coat, instead choosing a plainer mode of wear. It had always seemed a pity that Darcy did not hold his appearance in as high regard as the dandies of the ton, but she supposed that for someone who was as wealthy and well-connected as he, it was not necessary for him to attract attention through his clothing.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth remarked, shaking Caroline loose from her thoughts. “This is a surprise.”

“We came here to apologize,” Hurst said promptly and easily. “The truth is that we should never have interfered with Bingley’s courtship of your sister.”

“I will not argue with that,” Elizabeth said, “but I am glad that you have visited. It is painful when a family is at odds.”

“Indeed,” Hurst said. “We were just leaving. Louisa, Caroline, shall we?”

Caroline had just enough self-control to turn away from the grim image of Miss Bennet hanging on Mr. Darcy's arm. She followed her sister and brother-in-law out of the drawing room. As she did so, she heard Elizabeth say, “Jane, Charles, the Mint was marvelous! You simply must visit there sometime! Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for taking me…”

Caroline picked up her pace to escape this house of horrors, and not until she was safely in the carriage did she allow herself a squeal of dismay, of outrage, and grief.

The Hursts, who had taken the forward facing seat across from her, stared with similar looks of confusion, though Mr. Hurst’s expression hinted at exasperation as well.

“What is wrong, Caroline?” Louisa demanded.

“What is wrong? What is wrong ? Is it not entirely obvious? Darcy is courting Elizabeth Bennet!”

Louisa rolled her eyes at these impassioned words and said, “Caroline, do not be ridiculous!”

“They went to the Mint together!” her sister returned, slightly hysterically. “Mr. Darcy never took me to the Mint!”

“Why would you want to go to the Mint?” Hurst asked in obvious bewilderment.

“I cannot think of anything more dull than to look at some stupid coins,” Caroline replied, waving an agitated hand. “But that is not the point. Oh Sister, it is insupportable! First Hyde Park and now the Mint! He will marry her, and I simply cannot bear it!”

“Hyde Park?” Louisa repeated.

“Mrs. Linden heard from a friend that Darcy took Eliza on a carriage ride in Hyde Park a few days ago. He never, never, oh … oh!”

It was too much for her. She burst into tears, and the rest of the trip to Hurst House was completed in silence except for her noisy sobs.