His gaze moved briefly between his sisters. “Neither of you has been especially welcoming to the society here,” he continued, with an air of reluctant honesty.
Mrs Hurst appeared unsettled by his words as he continued. “I should like to remain at Netherfield long enough to determine whether the neighbourhood suits me. Darcy has encouraged me to consider what I truly wish to do, and I thought I might at least attempt to be the master of a country estate. It was our father’s wish, and I cannot say I have done much thus far to fulfil it.”
He paused, then added, somewhat awkwardly, “For what it is worth, I have not yet decided upon Miss Bennet. I mean only to spend more time in her company before I act. You have been unwilling to host the residents of Meryton in my home, but Louisa has agreed to arrange a dinner, and she might be persuaded to host a few smaller entertainments as well.”
Miss Bingley looked from her brother to her sister, searching each face in turn. Her gaze then slid to Mr Hurst, who remained pointedly absorbed in his breakfast, intent upon his plate as if nothing of interest were being discussed. Her mouth tightened.
“Very well. I will go to Bath,” she said at last. Though her chin lifted in habitual hauteur, there was an edge of resignation beneath it. “I know too well what awaits me in Scarborough.” She paused, then added, with forced composure, “I shall require some assistance, Charles. You must tell me precisely what I may expect to spend on lodgings and whatever else will be necessary if I am not to have any support from you.”
Her tone softened slightly. “I hope that one day I shall be welcome in your home,” she continued, faltering at the end of the sentence as she watched him closely. “But since you aredetermined to send me away…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes lingering on his face in the hope of some concession. None came.
“As I have said, you are welcome to remain,” Bingley replied his voice softer than it had been before. He had not risen once during the exchange, nor had he lost his composure, and even Miss Bingley was forced to acknowledge the apparent steadiness of his resolve. “But you must put an end to your constant complaints and be willing to host my neighbours.”
He continued in a calm, practical tone. “We may meet this afternoon in my study to discuss your finances. I have already begun to receive replies to my enquiries regarding lodgings in Bath, as well as several possibilities for a suitable companion.”
“You have already been making arrangements for me?” Miss Bingley cried, staring at him as though seeing him anew, the realisation dawning that her brother’s decision was neither sudden nor weak.
“No,” Bingley replied evenly. “I have merely made enquiries so once you had resolved to depart, I might speak to you intelligently about your options. The choice was always intended to be yours. But from almost the moment you arrived here, you have been determined to leave. As I am settled at Netherfield, I anticipated you would soon seek an alternative.”
Miss Bingley inclined her head, carefully concealing what she felt at that moment. She was not even sure she knew.
“Very well,” she said quietly. “I shall find you this afternoon, and we will speak then. I will tell my maid that we will be departing in the next few days so she may begin to pack my things.” Without another word, she turned away, her composure intact—even if her pride had taken a wound.
When the door closed behind her, the three remaining members of the family all drew a deep breath. Bingley slumped slightly in his chair while Mr Hurst reached for the coffee pot to refill his cup.
“Forgive me, Charles,” Mrs Hurst began, playing with the bracelets on her wrist as she spoke. “I ought to have stood up to her long before now, but it has always been easier to yield than to invite her displeasure. I do not think I fully understood how truly terrible her behaviour was until we came here.”
She glanced once more towards the door through which her sister had departed as though half-expecting it to open again. “I did try to encourage her to return the neighbours’ calls,” Mrs Hurst said quietly, “but she was adamant in her refusal, and I lacked the resolution to oppose her. It was simpler to yield than to provoke her temper.” She drew a slow breath. “Still, I believe she now understands that we are resolved. I hope that in Bath she may meet someone who treats her with kindness—and who will marry her.”
“Darcy tried to warn me, time and again, that she was too presumptive,” Bingley said, nodding slightly. “But it never occurred to me to oppose her.”
He gave a faint, almost sheepish smile. “I have always found it easier to accommodate than to resist. It was not until he threatened to break with me altogether unless I took steps to restrain her that I understood what he had been attempting to tell me.”
His brow furrowed in reflection as he paused before continuing. “Like you, Louisa, I thought it simpler to yield. But Darcy forced me to consider what I wanted for my own future, and I realisedthat, above all else, I desire peace in my home—though not at the expense of my own contentment.”
“Aye, and Caroline has considered no one’s wishes but her own for years,” Mr Hurst interjected, speaking for the first time that morning. He leant back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Louisa, do you truly mean that you would like to visit my family in the spring?”
“I do,” she replied without hesitation. “If Charles does decide to marry soon, he will hardly wish to have us under his roof.” She turned to her brother. “I like Miss Bennet well enough, but I am uncertain she is the best bride for you. You require someone with a little more firmness of character—but I may be mistaken.” She gave a small, conciliatory smile.
“Think carefully of your happiness, Brother, and take time to know her properly before you decide. Miss Bennet herself is a very sweet girl, and her cousin Miss Elizabeth Bennet is quite her equal—but her mother and sisters are another matter entirely. I should hesitate to invite any of them to London, given their present behaviour.”
“If I were to marry Miss Bennet, Mrs Bennet would certainly attempt to manage me as she does her own household,” Bingley replied thoughtfully, not saying aloud that he feared yielding to whichever voice proved the loudest. He had only lately begun to ask himself such questions; formerly, he might have let matters proceed without reflection.
“That is precisely why I wish to know more of her daughter. Would she submit unquestioningly to her mother’s direction, or is she capable of acting upon her own judgement? If I were to marry her, would Netherfield be governed by Mrs Bennet—or by my wife?”
He shook his head slightly. “I do not know how I am to answer these questions when we meet only briefly at assemblies and dinners. I would not even know how to ask what I wish to know from her, or if I am indeed even ready to consider taking a wife.”
“Then do not be in haste to decide upon any lady,” Mrs Hurst said encouragingly. “Give yourself time to know Miss Bennet better. Indeed, once Caroline departs, I will accompany you in calling upon our neighbours as we ought to have done already. In that way, it will not seem at all remarkable if we visit Longbourn, and you may observe Miss Bennet in her own home. We ought to have called upon her after her stay here to ensure she was well, but as in so many other things, we have been remiss.”
Mrs Hurst glanced at the watch pinned to her bodice. “Let us finish breakfast and attend to our duties, and then we shall pay a call upon Longbourn this afternoon. We may excuse Caroline’s absence by saying she is occupied with preparations for her departure. I shall engage Mrs Bennet, while you speak with Miss Bennet.”
Bingley nodded, his expression thoughtful and, for once, genuinely resolved—though experience suggested that his sister’s influence had a way of unsettling such resolutions. With that thought, he returned to his breakfast with renewed purpose. Mrs Hurst rose at once, allowing her husband to offer his arm as they withdrew from the room, leaving Bingley to his reflections.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Within the first few days of their arrival, Darcy became aware that his sister and Elizabeth Bennet had settled into a familiarity that surprised him by both its speed and its ease. The formalities of address had quickly fallen away; he heard them call one another by their Christian names, and the warmth of their manner together gave little hint of how recently they had met. He was pleased by this, for he had often wished Georgiana had a friend nearer to her own age, someone to confide in other than a much older guardian who was more father than brother.
Each morning after breakfast, the two young ladies made their way to the music room together. Darcy observed them often enough to note their habits: arriving still in conversation from their meal, sometimes arm in arm, and taking their places at the pianoforte without formality or awkwardness.
