“It is a difficult pregnancy,” she said, and he supposed things must be difficult if she was saying that word, “and my sister was urged to get some northern air, to get far away from London, in order to alleviate it. We were unable to find anything except a quite small cottage just a few miles from here, outside of Lambton, but the cottage is entirely unacceptable. There are nodesks, there is only a sitting room, no morning room, no dining room, just a table in the kitchen, and it is… well, I would say you must see it, but it’s appalling, you must not see it, actually.”
Mr. Darcy licked his lips. This was the dire situation? A cottage with no dining room? Was Caroline aware of the definition of a cottage? He cleared his throat. “Heavens, Miss Bingley.” He hoped he didn’t sound too sarcastic.
“Well, naturally, I began thinking of your dower house.”
He choked. Naturally? How was that the natural turn of thought when one was faced with the option of a lack of a dining room, to come to his house and make a request like that?
“I know, I know,” she said. “It’s shut up now, no one is out there, but we could come for dinner with you, at least until Mrs. Hurst is too large to be seen in polite society, and that would only mean you would need to have staff out there to see to our breakfast and luncheon. We have our own maids.”
Dinner, every night, with Caroline Bingley. God in heaven.
Think, he told himself,think of an excuse to say that she may not stay there.
He wished he was a woman. If he had been his aunt, Lady Catherine, the way to respond would have been a trill of laughter.What an idea, Miss Bingley. Out of the question, of course, but are you not so very enterprising? I admire your creative thinking.
He was not a woman, so he could not say it in that manner. Anything he said to bring an end to it all would come off quite differently. No, he would have to put her off in some other way, perhaps claiming some irreparable damage to the dower house?
He considered that, and he thought of saying the roof had caved in, but that was too easily discovered as a falsehood, and then he tried to think of something else—
And realized he was standing here, dumb and silent, saying absolutely nothing, and he had to saysomething.
“This is quite a request, Miss Bingley,” he said, instead. “How long will you and your sister wish to be living in my dower house?”
She winced. “Itisquite a request. It is too much. I told Louisa I could not come to you, but she is in such misery, you know, and it is hard to tell a woman who is carrying a babe that she must continue to suffer.”
Oh, she had cornered him. “Of course, you must stay here, however,” he said. “We would be delighted to host you.”
“Yes, well, no one is going to be using your dower house for some time,” she said with a laugh. “Not until you marry and die and leave behind a wife, I should imagine. Which will not be for some time yet. So, I thought it would be a good place for us to stay.”
“And it will only be you and Mrs. Hurst there.”
“And our maids,” said Caroline. “Positively no one else.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
ELIZABETH COULD NOTbelieve that Caroline had gone to Mr. Darcy, but then she should have expected it, truly. Of course, this would be what Caroline would have wanted from the beginning. This was perfect for her, every night at Pemberley, sharing the dining room table with Mr. Darcy. It was everything she had ever wanted.
“He does not know you are here at all,” said Caroline to her.
And of course he did not know, because Caroline would not wish any hint of her former rival in the man’s vision, even if there was no way that Mr. Darcy might ever want Elizabeth now, and even if Caroline did not even know how close Elizabeth had come to being Mr. Darcy’s wife.
Caroline continued, “I did not wish to give him any hint that might tarnish your reputation or to damage the future of my little niece or nephew you are growing.” She smiled. “So, you will have to stay out of sight.”
They had to repack their trunks.
Caroline and Louisa had maids who helped them, but Elizabeth was obliged to do it on her own, for—though Mrs. Birch had obliged her in the first place—Mrs. Birch was busy with other duties to get them all free of the house. Elizabeth dared to say that Mrs. Birch would be pleased to bid them adieu.
Elizabeth then had to carry her own trunk, for the maids weren’t inclined to help her, and Caroline and Louisa weren’t either. Perhaps carry was the wrong word. Drag was what she did. Stooped over, hunched, her back screaming at her, until there were twinges in her stomach that alarmed her, and she stopped, the trunk halfway down the stairs. She leaned into it, heaving out noisy breaths, holding it on the steps, and she simply stayed there, until the twinges eased.
She waited.
Mr. Birch must come along, she thought, or someone else must come along, see her, and insist to go after Mr. Birch.
But time passed, and no one came by at all.
A yell from out of the house carried in, Caroline’s voice. “Oh, Eliza, where are you?”
Elizabeth gathered her voice. “I am having trouble with my trunk.” There. They would be ashamed of themselves, leaving a woman who was carrying a babe all alone to bring her trunk down the stairs. They would send someone to help.
