“You are right about that, Louisa, but that is about to change. I take it that you learnt of the agreement between the Colonel and myself from your husband here. Now that I recollect it, he was present at the time the agreement was reached. Is that right, Louisa? Or do you listen in at doorways the way Caroline does?”
Louisa looked over at her husband.
Mr. Bingley nodded. “That is what I thought. Tell me, Hurst, what have I ever done to injure you? I support you. You drink my wine and eat my food. You lounge about in my house. How is it that Caroline has your loyalty, rather than myself?”
Hurst answered, “Since you ask, Bingley, I will tell you that Caroline is a damned sight scarier than you are. You will forget this conversation in a day; Caroline remembers slights and insults for years. Am I not right, Louisa?”
His wife nodded. “Charles, do you remember the time that I borrowed one of her ribbons to wear to a dance, but neglected to ask her permission to do so?”
Mr. Bingley said, uneasily. “Yes.”
Louisa continued, “And one year later, to the day, I found all my own ribbons shredded. I accused Caroline and she appealed to our mother, claiming innocence, saying she had no cause to ruin my ribbons.”
Bingley winced. “And by waiting a year, she knew she would not be blamed for it. It has been pointed out to me that she is far cleverer than I am. If she had my best interests at heart, this would not be a bad thing. But as she only cares for herself, her cleverness works to my detriment. Do you agree with that?”
Mr. Hurst snorted. “That has been obvious for years, Bingley.”
“And yet you never bothered to point it out to me, Hurst,” Mr. Bingley replied, angrily.
“Would you have listened to him, Charles? To either of us?” Louisa asked.
“I suppose not. But mark me – things are about to be very different. I have lost Miss Bennet to the Colonel; that I cannot change. But I will never be placed in such a position again.”
The Hursts listened in skeptical silence.
Mr. Bingley saw their expressions, and his face hardened. “Listen to me, both of you. I do not think you will have the opportunity to choose Caroline’s well-being over mine again, but if you ever do, I will have you out of my house immediately. Do not test me on this, either of you.” With that, Mr. Bingley left the room, slamming the door hard behind him.
He then went to Caroline’s door; he could hear her giving a set-down to her maid. “What?” she yelled in response to his knock.
“It is Charles. Open the door, Caroline.”
“I am busy, Charles.”
“Are you dressed?”
“Yes.”
The door was flung open and Charles strode in. “Leave, Peggy.”
Peggy looked at Caroline.
Mr. Bingley said, irritably, “No, Peggy, it is I who pay your wages, not my sister. I told you to leave, so go. Now.”
The maid scurried off.
“Charles, what in the world is going on?”
“Caroline, it is your fault that I no longer have a chance with Miss Bennet.”
“You will thank me one day.”
“No, I will not, because you and I will not be speaking.”
“We will not be – what can you mean?”
“You are moving out, Caroline.”
Caroline stared at her brother for a minute, mind working furiously. She could not imagine what had caused this, but it had to be corrected right away. “That is impossible, Charles, you know that.”
