Corbin greeted Mr. Darcy and immediately set to work to brush off his clothes and shoes, murmuring all the while about the inadequacies of the wardrobes at Netherfield Park, the overly familiar manners of the footmen, and various other complaints. Mr. Darcy, accustomed to Corbin’s ways, paid little attention. “Is Caroline Bingley in residence?” he interrupted.
“She is, sad to say,” Corbin replied. “In a snit because she is not to be the hostess, of course.”
“Good choice by Bingley.”
Corbin nodded his agreement and then said, “There; you are ready to be seen in company, sir.”
“Thank you, Corbin.”
Mr. Darcy went to the next room and knocked on the door. No response. “Georgiana.”
Silence.
“Are you coming downstairs for refreshments, Georgiana, or do I make your excuses?”
She mumbled something.
“Georgiana, I am sorry, but I cannot hear you through the door.”
The door opened a fraction of an inch and a pale face peered through. “I am tired.”
“Very well; I will make your excuses. Do you wish a tray sent up?”
“No.” The door closed.
Mr. Darcy sighed and went downstairs alone.
In the drawing room, he was greeted by Mr. Bingley, Miss Bingley, and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst.
“But where is Georgiana?” Miss Bingley cried at once, clasping her hands together in a show of distress.
“Miss Darcy is tired from the journey and begs that you will excuse her,” Mr. Darcy replied. “But it is just as well, as I hoped to speak with all of you privately without her in attendance.”
Mrs. Hurst poured tea for everyone and passed around a plate of small sandwiches. Once everyone was settled, all eyes turned to Mr. Darcy.
He took a deep breath and began. “I know you all saw that nasty little article inThe Morning Post.”
“Is it true?” Miss Bingley asked, leaning forward eagerly, eyes bright with anticipation.
“Caroline!” Mrs. Hurst hissed.
Mr. Darcy took a deep breath and faced the woman he had known would cause difficulties. “Miss Bingley, I can only say that my sister was very much misled by two people she thought she could trust. Her companion was in league with a man my sister has known since childhood; between them, they convinced her that she was in love with him. But I assure you that there was no elopement; she never would have considered such a thing.” He hoped no one could tell that he was not speaking the entire truth.
“How did that bit of malice get into the newspaper?” Mrs. Hurst asked.
“I can only assume that either the companion or the man in question sold the story toThe Morning Post.”
“Poor Miss Darcy,” Mrs. Hurst sighed. “I am so sorry this happened, Mr. Darcy.” She glanced over at her husband, who smiled and nodded at her. “We are pleased to be able to offer you sanctuary at this difficult time.”
“I thank you, Mrs. Hurst,” Mr. Darcy replied. “My sister’s spirits are sadly depressed, as you may imagine. Such a betrayal is not easily overcome. She is not likely to be eager to participate in social events or possibly even family events. I beg you all to bekind to her.” He stared hard at Miss Bingley as he spoke; she looked away.
“Of course,” Mr. Bingley said. “We are your friends, Darcy, and we are here to support you in every way. Are we not?” He looked around the room.
Everyone nodded.
“Anything you need,” Mrs. Hurst said. “Anything at all. You have but to ask.”
Mr. Darcy thanked everyone sincerely, and settled back with his tea and sandwiches, satisfied that he had done well to bring his sister to Netherfield Park.
