What of Mr. and Miss Bingley, you might ask. Well…
Bingley, having failed to force a marriage with Lady Jane Bennet, fled the inn as though the hounds of hell were on his heels. For more than ten miles, in their mad dash to Scarborough, his sister berated him about their abrupt departure, which did not allow her to break her fast, nor properly pack her trunk.
“My gowns will be absolutely ruined, and you know my maid is useless. I shall have to shop for a whole new wardrobe upon our arrival in Scarborough.”
“You will make do with what you have, Caroline. I cannot afford the expense of you buying a new wardrobe every two weeks, or at the whim of some new fashion.”
“Not buy a new gown! Of course, I will buy a new gown and you will happily pay for it.”
“I will, will I?” Bingley glared at his sister. “When we reach Scarborough, I will take you to Aunt Agatha’s, where you will stay until I find us a place to live within our means.”
“What do you mean, within our means? We are disgustingly wealthy. I know how much money Father left you, and we can purchase whatever we like, whenever we like.”
“No, we cannot.”
“Fie! You are only trying to scare me into being frugal, but you will fail miserably.”
“Caroline, let me be perfectly clear so that you understand.” Bingley leaned forward and held his sister’s gaze with his own. “Of my inheritance of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds, I have exactly thirty-two thousand, three hundred and forty pounds remaining. I have authorized Hurst to sell the horses, carriages, and furnishings in Mayfair. Once that is complete, I shall negotiate terms to get back a portion of the lease agreement, the same as I did at Netherfield. All in all, I hope to recoup five thousand pounds, but there is no guarantee of my success.”
Her mouth dropped open and she tried to speak, not once, not twice, but three times, unsuccessfully. Finally, after falling back against the squabs of the carriage, she whispered, “Thirty-two thousand pounds?”
He nodded and said nothing.
“What of my dowry?”
“It is intact. Neither of us can touch it until you are married,or barring that, if you set up your own establishment, which cannot be done until you reach five and twenty.”
“That is not until next year!” she exclaimed.
“At least it is still there for you to tempt some gentleman into marrying you.”
“The only man I wished to marry was Mr. Darcy.”
“Well, that was never going to happen as he never had any intention of marrying you.”
“You cannot know that.”
“Yes, I can. His exact words were, ‘even if I came across your sister without a stitch of clothing on, and a dozen witnesses to her ruin, I will never marry her.’ I think that is pretty explicit, if you ask me.”
“I did not ask you,” she grumbled and folded her arms across her narrow chest. “What am I to do? We do not know anybody in Scarborough, beyond Aunt Agatha.”
“Which might be a good thing. No one knows our past, and for most people, thirty-two thousand is a veritable fortune. I should be able to entice a young lady with a healthy dowry to marry me. If her father is a landowner, he might even dower his daughter with an estate. All in all, this might turn around in our favour.”
“Then, let us make ourselves congenial, and become the toast of every party held by Scarborough’s elite.”
And they did. Caroline made an advantageous marriage to a local baron whose wife had died, leaving him with three children and a drained bank account. She loved being called Lady Marchand, and Lord Marchand loved spending her money. They never had any children, much to Caroline’s relief.
Bingley was moderately more successful as he was approached by a wealthy tradesman who had more money than he knew what to do with, and a daughter who did not enjoy theattention of young men since she had a crooked nose and two missing teeth, the sad result of falling off her horse at a young age. Her father had despaired of finding anyone to love his Barbara, and when Mr. Bingley appeared on the Scarborough scene, eager to please and eager to find love attached to a healthy purse, he hired an investigator.
It did not take long for the truth to emerge, and the ruthless businessman invited young Bingley to his palatial town house to discuss business. All it took was some gentle nudging and a promise to broadcast his dwindling fortune to anyone who would listen, for the young man to discover a latent ardent regard for Miss Barbara Lithgow, and they were married as soon as the banns were read.
In one thing, Bingley was correct. His new father-in-law did provide an estate, which was held in an iron clad trust in his daughter’s name, along with her marriage portion, which was a healthy forty thousand pounds. Bingley never profited personally from his wife’s wealth, but their two sons never had to worry about money for the rest of their life.
All in all, a fitting end for someone who had skated through society without a single scratch on his lacquer, until he met Jack Lithgow, who brought him to heel without having to resort to violence or extortion. Well, not outright extortion, just a gentle nudging in the direction he needed the young pup to follow. His Barbara deserved better, but Bingley was a happy go lucky young man, and when he wished, he could charm the birds out of trees, and as long as he made Jack Lithgow’s little girl happy, the boy would live to see another day.
THE END
