Page 23 of A Perfect Stranger

M iss Bingley had a feeling that something was going on. She had heard her brother, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam whispering in heated voices. They had disappeared together into the billiard room, with the door closed. Why would the door need to be closed if they were playing billiards? For a brief moment, she had wondered if Mr. Darcy had asked Charles for her hand – but what would Colonel Fitzwilliam have to do with it? No, that did not make sense.

She discussed it with Louisa, who promptly discussed it with her husband, Harold. Harold told Louisa that Colonel Fitzwilliam was vying with Charles for the attention of Miss Bennet, and they had agreed – over glasses of brandy, so it must be serious – that they would let the best man win. Louisa had asked if Harold remembered anything else. He had screwed up his face, thought hard, and said he recalled that in the billiard room, the Colonel had promised something about abandoning the field if Bingley could prove that he could control his younger sister. Or something like that, Harold added, shrugging.

Mrs. Hurst immediately passed this information on to Caroline, who retired to her room to think about it. Caroline would very much prefer to have Miss Bennet select the Colonel, rather than her brother. If she could assist Miss Bennet in making that choice, she would be pleased to do so.

There was, she thought, no time like the present. Was Charles going to Longbourn today? It was time to find out. Going back downstairs, she asked her sister where Charles might be.

“I believe he is in the library with Mr. Darcy and the Colonel,” Mrs. Hurst replied.

Caroline went to the library. She stood outside, ear pressed to the door. She heard the Colonel say, “So, Bingley, are we going to call on Miss Bennet today?”

And her brother replied, “I am certainly going; can you not stay here at Netherfield today? After all, you had her to yourself yesterday.”

“Certainly, if you wish it,” the Colonel replied, amiably.

“Darcy? Will you join me?” Charles asked.

“Indeed; I am eager to see Miss Elizabeth.”

Miss Elizabeth! Is that where Mr. Darcy had disappeared to every day? Caroline scowled. Just then the door opened. “Oh! Charles! I was just about to knock!” Caroline said, quickly. She looked her brother over closely. Dunstan, his valet, had turned him out very well this morning. He looked very much like a man going a-courting.

“Yes, Caroline?”

“I thought to visit Miss Bennet today to ask after her health.”

Charles looked at her, skeptically. “You wish to visit Miss Bennet?”

“I do.”

“You realise it has been some time since her illness,” her brother said.

“I have been busy, but better late than never.”

“I must say that this is certainly unexpected, Caroline.”

“She is a sweet girl, Charles; I have always said so.”

“Yes, in exactly that demeaning and supercilious tone,” Charles replied, obviously irritated.

Caroline stared at him; she then allowed her eyes to fill with tears. This was a trick all the girls had practiced at school. The method they used was to think of something very sad. Caroline’s sad thought was of the time her mother had killed Chirpee, Caroline’s canary, by offering the little bird to the kitchen cat. It was easy to cry, thinking of poor Chirpee’s fate. This was perhaps the most useful skill she had picked up at her seminary.

As usual, Charles could not resist her tears. “Dash it all, Caroline! Fine; come along. Darcy and I were going to ride, but if you are joining us, I suppose I will need to have the carriage harnessed up.”

Twenty minutes later, the carriage was ready. Caroline had changed into one of her very finest silk day dresses and had donned an extremely elaborate headdress. Let Elizabeth Bennet compete with this, she thought.

As she descended the staircase regally, head high, she saw Mr. Darcy’s eyes widen. Good; she was very much hoping he would approve of her ensemble. Then she heard her brother sigh. “It is just a morning call in the country, Caroline. This is not Park Lane.”

“I know that, Charles.”

“And do you think you are properly dressed for a morning call in the country?”

She replied loftily, “I do not believe I require your instruction on proper attire, Charles.”

He shrugged. “I honestly do not care, Caroline. Let us go now.”

When they arrived at Longbourn, Mr. Darcy exited the carriage first. Caroline hoped that Mr. Darcy would hand her out, but he went immediately to the front door, leaving Charles to help her from the carriage. No matter; seeing Mr. Darcy’s eyes widen as she descended the staircase was all the encouragement she required.

The butler announced them and they made their way into the small room that served as the Bennet’s parlour. Mrs. Bennet was there, as was Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth and the other three girls, whose names Caroline had not bothered to remember.

Mrs. Bennet supplied the names. “Oh, Miss Bingley, I believe you met my three younger girls at the assembly, but you must have met a good number of people that night. As you may recall, this is my middle daughter, Miss Mary. This is Miss Catherine, whom we call Kitty, and my youngest, Miss Lydia.”

As the Bennet girls curtsied, the gentlemen bowed and Caroline inclined her head stiffly. They were invited to sit, and the matron rang for tea.

Caroline wasted no time. “I am delighted to see you looking so much better, Miss Bennet.”

“Thank you, Miss Bingley. I am certain that I owe you a debt of gratitude for allowing me to recover so peacefully at Netherfield,” Jane replied.

“I am certain you do, Miss Bennet, as I cannot imagine you enjoying the same level of peace here at Longbourn.”

There was a minute’s silence as everyone digested that remark. Finally, Mrs. Bennet said, “I am not certain what you mean by that, Miss Bingley.”

Caroline was ready. “Oh, only that with so many people in so small a house, the noise must be terrible.”

Mrs. Bennet’s voice was now firm. “I assure you, Miss Bingley…“

Caroline overrode her. “No, no, you need not assure me; I know what I see. The furniture here is out of fashion and worn; your butler is old and slow; the exterior of the house is not well-kept. All in all, the atmosphere here is one of chaos, lacking in fashion and good taste. No one could get well in such a dreadful place.”

By this time, Jane had tears in her eyes; she jumped to her feet and ran out of the room. Mrs. Bennet could not move; she sat with her hand to her mouth, looking absolutely shocked. The younger girls simply stared in astonishment.

Elizabeth was trembling with rage. She rose to her full height and began, “Miss Bingley –“

But Mr. Darcy interrupted her. “Miss Bingley, I have never heard anything so rag-mannered in my entire life!”

Miss Bingley rose and turned to face him. “Truly, Mr. Darcy, I know you must agree with me; the locals are something savage, are they not?”

“I do not agree at all, Miss Bingley. I have found the people here to be kind, warm and everything pleasant, which is a good deal more than I can say for you.”

“What?!” Miss Bingley was shocked. “Mr. Darcy, how dare you!”

Elizabeth turned to Mr. Bingley, who still sat in his chair. “Mr. Bingley, have you anything to say?”

Mr. Bingley was wide-eyed with horror. He knew Caroline could be rude, but he had never imagined she could sink to such a level! What was he to do? He rose from his chair and managed to say, “I believe my sister is not feeling quite the thing. Come, Caroline, let us leave the Bennets in peace and return another day, when you are more yourself.”

Elizabeth spoke quickly. “Mr. Darcy, I hope you will remain. But Mr. Bingley, I must ask both you and your sister to leave now and not return.”

“But I said nothing!” Mr. Bingley protested.

“Exactly,” Elizabeth said, succinctly. Then she marched to the front door, past the startled butler, and threw it open.

Caroline led the way to the carriage, head high, and climbed in. Her brother followed her. She smiled at him, though she was seething at Mr. Darcy’s remarks to her.

“You did that on purpose,” he accused her.

“I did, yes,” she agreed, tossing her head.

“But – but why? You know I am interested in Miss Bennet.”

“That is exactly why.”

“I have not the pleasure of understanding you, Caroline!”

“Then let me explain it to you, Charles. You can do better than Miss Bennet, and I insist that you do so.”

“I do not think I can do better, Caroline. Miss Bennet is lovely and kind. She has a serene spirit, and she makes me feel at peace. What is so wrong with that?”

“I need to marry well, Charles, and it is clear that I must find someone other than Mr. Darcy, as he has evidently been bewitched by that awful Miss Eliza. You tying yourself to an unknown and unimportant country girl does not help me achieve my goal. I need you to have my best interests at heart. How is it that you do not see that?”

“How is that you expect me to have your best interests at heart, when you do not have my best interests at heart, Caroline?”

Caroline quickly thought of Chirpee and soon had tears in her eyes. “Because Mother and Father asked you to care for me. I am your youngest sister, Charles!”

Mr. Bingley recalled his arrangement with Colonel Fitzwilliam and then buried his face in his hands. He feared Jane Bennet was lost to him forever, and he had no one to blame but himself.

As the carriage made its way back to Netherfield, Caroline reflected on the visit to Longbourn. She knew not what arts and allurements Miss Eliza had used on Mr. Darcy, but if he could be so easily taken in, then he was not worthy of Miss Caroline Bingley. She dismissed him from her mind. But she had, with very little effort and inconvenience to herself, eliminated Jane Bennet as a sister-in-law. She congratulated herself on her success.