Page 8

4th December 1812, Wednesday

When Miss Bingley learned of her brother and Mr Darcy leaving for London on business, her reaction was thus one might assume yuletide had come early.

Her grin, part cheshire and part sinister, was not an all together unfamiliar expression on her face and Mrs Hurst resigned herself to following another one of her younger sister’s schemes,

“We need to talk to Mr Darcy, Louisa.” Caroline said as inspiration struck, “We need to get him alone and convince him that the best thing for Charles will be to leave Netherfield indefinitely.”

Louisa, though doubtful of her sister’s plan, for she could see for herself that Mr Darcy himself was quite reluctant to leave the countryside, did not argue.

In the years since the sisters had been reunited after spending almost a decade apart in different well-reputed, though non-educational boarding schools, Louisa had come to accept that there was no disagreeing with Caroline.

“How do you propose we get him alone? He and Charles are always together.”

Caroline frowned, fidgeting a little in her seat.

Louisa knew she wanted to pace, but the last time she had, it had led to the satin in her slipper tearing and Caroline knew her footwear was far too expensive and far too impractical to attempt a stunt like that again ,

“We need to involve Mr Hurst, of course. If your husband can distract Charles with maybe cards or a game of billiards while subtly excluding Mr Darcy from the activity, he would have no choice but to attend to us.”

And so, that is what they did.

After breakfast, while Mr Darcy was attending to some last minute correspondence in the parlour room with the rest of the party, Louisa subtly signalled her husband to do his part.

Hurst, though feeling significantly put upon, just sighed and in a low voice, asked Bingley if he would care for a game in the billiards room.

Charles, of course, readily agreed, shutting the old tome on farming methods that he had been ineffectively trying to understand and was about to call Darcy too- when his brother-in-law shook his head.

Though confused, Bingley, supposing the game to be an excuse to talk about some matter of familial privacy, nodded and the two men quietly left the room, while Darcy, thoroughly engrossed in the letter to Georgiana was left defenceless against the combined inaneness of the Bingley sisters.

Caroline only just waited for the door to close behind the two men before jumping out of her seat and casually coming around to idle in front of Darcy’s writing desk,

“Mr Darcy, I confess I’m quite curious about the style of business that takes you and Charles away to London so abruptly.”

Darcy looked up from his sheafs of paper- two sides of which, he had filled simply by writing about Miss Elizabeth and her distractingly impish smiles- and was contrite to realise he had been trapped,

“I did not realise, Miss Bingley, that you took any interest in your brother’s business dealings.” The disapproval in his voice reflected his disappointment at being deserted by his friend in such a manner, but Caroline took it for something quite different ,

“Oh heavens no!” She exclaimed, exchanged a look with her sister and together, they affected a laugh that grated on his very nerves, “I would not presume to understand the intricacies of a man’s world. Indeed, such is only the way of these country hoydens. Did you know Louisa, only two days previous, my Abigail was telling me about how Miss Eliza is so very involved with matters of accounts of not only her father’s estate but also her solicitor uncle’s firm.”

Louisa, who had heard nothing but this particular remark the entirety of the evening two days previous, affected enough shock and disgust on her face to make the Bard himself proud.

Mr Darcy’s countenance darkened at yet another barb, but he said nothing- knowing any defence from his side would bring nothing but more hostility towards Elizabeth.

If she ever consented to become my wife, he thought as he eyed the younger Bingley sister with all the cold hauteur he was capable of, I will make certain not an awry word gets past Miss Bingley’s sneering mouth about my Elizabeth, lest she lose every privilege she’s gained by associating herself with the Darcy family name.

“Then you will forgive me, Miss Bingley, for my wonder at your curiosity in your brother’s affairs now.”

“Oh sir, indeed, it is not so much his business that intrigues me but his returning to town.” Caroline replied, “I confess, there is something of the utmost importance that I must discuss with you.”

Darcy raised a brow, already aware of where this conversation was headed,

Caroline, taking this as sufficient encouragement, continued, “Me and my sister cannot help but worry for Charles, you see. It is those Bennets, sir! It could not have passed your attention how enamoured Bingley is with the eldest sister. ”

“No, it has not. Bingley is hardly subtle in his admiration.”

“Indeed! And so you must realise that it is not just us, but the whole of this community of country bumpkins that are expecting his addresses! The insolence of them all! To presume that one of our standing would stoop so low as to ask for one of them !”

Darcy narrowed his eyes, the grip on his quill strong enough to break it in two, “I am all astonishment, Miss Bingley, for did you not yourself consider Miss Bennet a friend? You called on her multiple times, did you not? And she called on you in return just as frequently.”

“Well of course, Jane is a sweet little darling!” Caroline replied, “Such a pretty face and the sweetest countenance! Indeed, if it were not for her situation in life, I would be all anticipation to call her my sister.”

“Indeed.” Louisa concurred, her first word in the entire conversation,

“But alas, it cannot be, Mr Darcy! For her family, not only penniless after the passing of their father, are shameless and vulgar and ungainly. Their mother is senseless, the youngest sisters all prodigious flirts, the middle can only ever speak if she is quoting the bible and do not even get me started on the second eldest!” Caroline exclaimed,

Darcy sighed, looking back down at his letter, no doubt Miss Bingley will need no encouragement to continue her insults of Elizabeth Bennet,

“For why, she is the worst of them all! The impertinence! The unfashionable manners! The lack of care for her clothes or hair! Her boyish behaviour is only ever rivalled by her lack of a full womanly figure. And to top it all off, her almost masculine intelligence! ”

If these are the thoughts of most of the ladies of the ton towards a woman like Elizabeth , Darcy thought, It was no wonder I had been unable to find a suitable wife in the past six seasons .

Darcy was enchanted by Elizabeth- especially her wit, her ability to hold an intelligent conversation, her love of the outdoors.

Clearly, she was a singular woman in all those areas and if those habits of hers were so despised by the ladies in general, evidently, he would never find a wife better suited to him in all of England!

Miss Bingley, seeing the expression on his face, immediately digressed,

“But, it was not the Bennets that I wished to discuss with you, sir. It was Charles himself!” She said, “He cannot be allowed to return back to Hertfordshire after he has left for London.”

Darcy raised a brow, “Miss Bingley, Charles has leased this estate for the next two years. For all intents and purposes till the end of that time, he is the owner of Netherfield and therefore, responsible for it and all its tenants. The man cannot just pack up his things and leave no matter how much you would prefer it.”

“Mr Darcy!” Miss Bingley protested, the expression on her face aghast, “If we do not take him away he might as well let himself get entrapped into matrimony with the eldest Bennet!”

“I do not see how it would be an entrapment,” Darcy replied, “Anybody can see that your brother holds Miss Bennet in the greatest of affections.”

Truthfully, Darcy had not spent much time or thought on Bingley and his budding relationship with Miss Elizabeth’s elder sister.

Indeed, much of his mind had been otherwise pleasantly engaged on thoughts of his own Bennet sister and how to reverse her opinion of him.

But, Bingley’s exclamations over Miss Bennet were loud and effusive and as for Miss Bennet, who should know her heart better than her suitor himself?

“But what of their lack of fortune!” Caroline argued, “Or connexions? Or indeed, their lack of standing in society?”

Darcy frowned, “The Bennets are landed-gentry. From what I understand, Longbourn has been in their family for centuries. Indeed, in terms of social standing, at least, they are above you. If Charles were to marry Miss Bennet, it would bring your family one generation closer to becoming gentry yourselves. In that regard, to me at least, it seems like an advantageous enough match.”

Caroline stared at him, mouth agape, looking much like those koi fishes Darcy had found equal amounts revolting and amusing in the water fountains of Matlock House’s rose gardens.

Indeed, she was quite speechless!

That Mr Darcy would carry such thoughts on her family’s social standing!

To think he thought the Bennets above her !

The air in the parlour room, heavy with stunned silence, only shifted when the doors opened.

Bingley strolled in, grinning smugly at having won the game and five pounds from his brother in law and took a seat beside Louisa,

“So,” He said jovially, either unable to read the room or unwilling to, “What did I miss?”

─── ※ ·?· ※ ───

Wickham strolled into the local tavern, Denny and Smith chattering behind him, discussing either country misses or last night’s card winnings or some variation of both.

George himself had lost the small fortune that he had managed to earn through previous winnings and was therefore in dire need of a drink .

Amanda Buller was a pretty girl, for a bar maid- with flaxen hair coiled and covered with a cap and her bosom almost falling out of her tightly cinched waist; she gave George an eyeful and a smirk everytime she deliberately bent low to pass him a drink.

Wickham grinned.

Yes, the thirty pounds he owed Officer Radcliffe might haunt him until he figured out a way to get away from the Militia without the risk of desertion, but the red coat also gave him an allusion of honour.

It also gave young women like Amanda Buller enough hope that he might whisk them away from their lives if they just opened their legs for him.

George strutted towards the bar, his steps slowing a little when Amanda looked up at him, then at the officers behind him, before turning away altogether and entering the backdoor.

A few moments later, just as the officers had reached the counter, a pot bellied man entered, exchanging places with the pretty maid.

George, surprised for a moment, gritted his teeth,

“Ah, it is the militia men come today, is it?” The man asked, his voice gruff and his shirt stained.

If George did not know better, he would have bet that the man sneered at them, “What can I get ya’ fellas?”

Denny, though confused at the hostile behaviour, answered when it was apparent that Wickham was too shocked by the keeper’s attitude to do so himself,

“A bottle of your best port, if you will, good sir!” He tried to put on a jovial grin on his face, which wilted just as quickly at the bar man’s unchanging expression, “We’ve had a long night, haven’t we, boys?”

The man turned around, grabbed a bottle of port from behind the shelf and placed it on the table without relinquishing his hold.

Wickham, confused, extended his hand to take it anyway but the barkeep pulled it away further ,

“You’ll be served just as soon as you clear your previous tabs, gentlemen .” He said, and George froze.

Officer Smith, standing behind them silently till that point, laughed a little, “What? That’s it? Here, ol’ man. That’s the two pounds that I owe you for your services.” Smith had won big last night, and it showed with how loose he was with his money.

Denny and Wickham, on the other hand, hesitated.

“Come now, man!” George cajoled, pulling a smile on his otherwise irritated face, “We’re soldiers to the crown! Surely, you can extend us some credit.”

“And we’re merchants doing business, sirs.” The man declared, affronted, “The people in Meryton have been extending you credit since you were stationed here. We have considered your debts honourable. But, we’ve heard the stories! Shops havin’ to close down! And you red coats just move over to the next town! Nay sir, if you want more port, you gotta open up your pockets.”

George gritted his teeth, chagrined.

It would be just his rotten luck that the militia would get a bad reputation just as he decided to join in to enjoy its perks.

He turned around without another word, and stormed out of the establishment, ignoring the cries of his fellow officers.

It did not take him much longer to learn it was not just the tavern- but almost every establishment in the village refused to serve a red coat before all his due credit was paid.

If that was not bad enough, he had encountered the younger Miss Lucas right in front of the dressmakers-plain and silly as she was, she was also well endowed and a bit wild when in her passions.

George had every intention of taking out his irritation from both last night and earlier today in a different way, but before he could have so much as gone over to say hello, her brother, Martin Lucas, had walked over to her, pulling her away from where she had been looking at the dresses on display, shooting him a dirty look on his way .

Wickham sneered, kicked a pebble on the pathway, then turned back around to walk over to where his regiment was camped out.

No liquor, no women, no finery of any kind- it was unfair how life always managed to just dangle all this wealth and women in front of him like a proverbial carrot before snatching it away.

Wickham was tired of it.

He could not wait to leave this stupid village.