The butler began to open the door and, as soon as he saw who was calling, said, “No one is home to you.” Then he closed and locked the door.
In anger, Miss Bingley beat on the door with her parasol.
It was opened once more by the butler. “You are not welcome here. Do not return, or you will be arrested for trespassing.” The door was shut again.
Miss Bingley could not understand what was happening, as she refused to believe the note she had received was genuine. She called at the homes of four morefriends,and she was sent away from each one and told never to return.
Ignoring what her brother said about closing her accounts, Miss Bingley ordered the coachman to take her to Madame Dupris’s modiste shop on Bond Street. She had so much wanted to be accepted as a client of Madame Chambourg, who was the chosen modiste of many members of theTon; however, she had never been accepted.
As she approached the door, Miss Bingley ignored the looks aimed at her from members of society. She opened the door, and Madame was blocking her way. “You are not welcome ‘ere,” she said in a thick French accent.
“I spend thousands of pounds here; step aside!” Miss Bingley insisted.
“Your account is closed, and you are not welcome. Now go, or I ‘ave my men throw you out.” Madame stood with her arms akimbo.
When she turned to leave, she saw a crowd of members of the first circles watching the goings on. She would use that to ruin the damned modiste. “You see how a lady is…” Miss Bingley was cut off.
“You are no lady.” One of the men said, and each person turned their backs on her and gave Miss Bingley the cut direct.
She scampered into her carriage. She needed to go to Darcy House for help; failing that, she would make for Holder House. How dare people cut her? She was Caroline Maleficent Bingley! She ignored the fact she had already been told not to return to either of the abodes she intended to call at.
After, again, being told not to return to Darcy House and receiving the same reception at Holder House, Miss Bingley returned to Hurst House to lick her wounds.
Chapter 16
Now that she knew that Mr Darcy had never looked at her to find fault and understood that when he had met her in the mornings, before he departed Rosings Park, it had nothing to do with punishing her with his company, Elizabeth quite missed seeing Mr Darcy about the place.
On some mornings since their cousin’s departure, Elizabeth would see either Lord Hilldale or Colonel Fitzwilliam, or both, riding. When they saw her, they would stop and talk for some minutes and then the two, or if it was one alone, would ride off. The colonel called at the parsonage occasionally but never with his brother. Based on a conversation Elizabeth had with the colonel, she learnt that Lord Hilldale, like their parents, did not appreciate her cousin’s fawning and sycophantic behaviour. Unlike her prior wrongheaded thoughts, none other than Lady Catherine enjoyed that kind of deference. However, even Lady Catherine had her limits of patience when Mr Collins maundered on for too long.
On Friday morning, after breaking their fasts, while Mr Collins worked on his sermon—without input from his patroness—Charlotte, Elizabeth, and Maria sat in the back parlour, each one busy with her own concerns.
They were disturbed when the maid brought Elizabeth several letters. There was one from Jane, one from Mr King, and the third surprised her the most.
She first skimmed Mr King’s letter. It was written before he and his niece departed Meryton. There were effusive thanks to her for saving Mary King from the clutches of a certainfortune-hunting, dishonourable man. He wrote that they would be in Liverpool for some weeks and only return after the departure of the regiment.
As Papa writing to her was such a rare occurrence, Elizabeth broke his seal and opened the single page. Her father was not much of a correspondent.
2 April 1812
Longbourn
Elizabeth,
Of late you have been a prolific writer of missives; except, wisely, you did not send me the information you imparted to others. As you speculated, I would not have acted on it.
I cannot go into detail other than to tell you the warning was more timely than you could imagine. It is leading to changes in our household which you will see for yourself when you return home.
It is not hyperbole when I tell you that the timing of what resulted from that information has saved us from something I will not put on paper.
When I see you, I have many questions, and you, my Lizzy, have some explaining to do.
I am not angry; the opposite is true.
With fatherly love,
TB
Elizabeth breathed with relief that Papa had seen what she wrote to Sir William and had not taken exception to her words. Being that she hated not knowing things, her father’s allusion to being saved was making her imagine all sorts of scenarios, but she had not a clue as to what Papa referred.
