The knocker was off the door at Darcy House, indicating that the family was not at home to callers, but Caroline was not one to be deterred by such a triviality. She knocked on the door firmly, and was rewarded when the door opened, revealing a stern man in a butler’s suit. Nose in the air, he enquired what her business was.
She replied, “I am here to see Miss Darcy.”
The door began to close, as the man replied, “She is not in residence.”
“Truly? My brother, Mr. Bingley, saw Mr. Darcy at their club last night and he asked that I call on his sister,” Miss Bingley insisted, hoping to be given more information.
“Not possible,” the butler replied, curtly. “Mr. Darcy is rusticating in Hertfordshire.” And with that, the door slammed shut.
Caroline Bingley descended the steps and climbed into the waiting carriage, her face wreathed in a smile. Hertfordshire! That could mean only one thing: Mr. Darcy was visiting Charles.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Miss Bingley had been to Netherfield Park before, of course, when she had attended her brother’s wedding to an unknown country girl, a Miss Jane Bennet. Caroline had not stayed long, as the entire event had been sadly lacking in fashion. And Miss Bennet’s family! Heavens! What a motley collection of rude, loud, unfashionable people!
She specifically recalled Jane’s next younger sister – Elizabeth, was it? – as being particularly objectionable. She was pretty in a typical good-country-air sort of way, being athletic, fresh-faced and forthright in her speech and manner. Jane was somewhat better, being soft-spoken and modest. At least Charles had not married Miss Elizabeth!
But none of the Bennet sisters were fit to grace a London drawing room; why Charles had to marry into such a family was beyond Caroline’s comprehension. Such a connection must seriously injure Caroline’s chances with Mr. Darcy, but had Charles cared about that when it was pointed out to him? No, he had not!
Caroline had wanted to be alone with her thoughts in the carriage, so she had had her maid, Nancy, ride on the box seat with the coachman. Nancy had bitten her lip and looked unhappy upon being told how she was to travel, but Caroline had been adamant.
Upon arriving at Netherfield Park, Caroline allowed the coachman to help her out. She directed, “Bring my trunks in,” as she walked up the steps.
There was a new knocker on the front door, she saw, which she employed immediately. The door was opened by a man she had never seen before. “And you are?” she demanded, irritably.
“I am Mr. Bingley’s butler, Mr. Hughes. Andyouare?”
“Miss Bingley,” she snapped.
Mr. Hughes’ eyes narrowed. “Is the master expecting you, Miss Bingley?”
“Expecting me? Whatever can you mean? I am his sister!”
A soft voice interrupted the conversation. “All is well, Hughes. We were not expecting Miss Bingley, but of course she is most welcome.” Jane Bingley did her best to put a welcoming smile on her face, but it did not reach her eyes.
“I should think so,” Caroline said, trying to contain her temper. “I have been traveling these three hours, and would like to wash before receiving refreshments.” She turned to see the coachman bringing in the first of three heavy trunks. “My usual room?” she asked.
“Had I known of your arrival, I would have made certain that all was in readiness for you, Caroline, but I am certain that the room you prefer is clean,” Mrs. Bingley replied.
“You will unpack and lay out my lilac gown, Nancy,” she informed the unhappy and windblown maid who had just entered the house.
Mrs. Bingley put out a hand to stop Nancy from following Caroline up the stairs. “Nancy, go down to the kitchen first; Cook will have a cup of tea and some sandwiches for you.”
As Caroline opened her mouth to object, Mrs. Bingley said, firmly, “Caroline, it is clear that the poor creature has been made to sit on the box; she must be parched. Do you want her passing out as she tries to unpack your belongings? In my house, the servants are cared for.”
Caroline simply stared at her hostess; where had Jane Bingley gotten such backbone? “Very well,” Caroline said, curtly.
“Hughes will show you where to go, Nancy,” Mrs. Bingley continued. Nancy dared a quick glance at her mistress before following the butler to the kitchen.
“Come, Caroline, I will accompany you to your room and make certain that nothing is lacking. I do hope that in the future you will send us a note informing us of your intentions, so that we may welcome you properly.” Mrs. Bingley’s voice was calm.
The two women continued upstairs in silence.
***
“Caroline? Here? I do not believe it,” Charles Bingley groaned.
“You do notwantto believe it,” his wife countered. “But she is in the Gold Room, even now, haranguing her poor maid.”
