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“Will Darcy listen?”

“He has to. And that is not just wishful thinking. The one thing he desires more than anything else, including his own happiness, is that Georgiana marry well. He goes on about it all the time. He even uses it as a shield when dealing with the marriage mart. We do not need to exaggerate when we sit with him. He can hear the tale direct from Georgie herself.”

He looked at his older brother.

“You are older even that Darcy, has there been no one to catch your eye?”

“I struggle with the issue of the debutante’s behaviour. And I do not mean that they behave badly. Rather it is the bland insipidness that frustrates me.”

“Is it that bad?”

“In a word, yes. Part of my challenge, my worry, is that I see how married women change. I mean seriously, can you imagine mother being some insipid young deb, afraid to say a word in opposition to her potential beau? Yet she must have been. Let us move away from our parents, and you will understand why.

“I have been introduced to a plethora of young women. Without an ounce of exaggeration, at least 100 young women, and that is every year for the last 10. Somewhere in those 1,000 women there must have been more than just one that I have missed. I am sure I could have been happy to marry 50 of them. It is a random number, but at least five of the women each year could have made me happy, allowed me to be content that I have married well.

“But that is only five per centum, not good odds in the slightest. My challenge is finding the insipid deb that turns into an interesting woman, like our mother. I enjoy conversation with married women, with married couples. And stop looking at me like that, I would not disgrace her, myself or our family. But I do enjoy the company of women who are not afraid to be themselves.

“As a debutante, this appears to be a cardinal sin. The young woman taking her first steps into society has to suppress all originality, individuality, any sign of a damned personality! As you can tell, I am terrified of marrying poorly.”

“This is more important than wealth and connection?”

“We have both already. As a courtesy Viscount, I am eligible enough for a Duke’s daughter. But there have been few of them in the last decade. Let me see, three of them if I recall correctly. Two were snatched up within weeks of making their curtsey, by the second son of one Duke in the first case, and the heir of another in the second..”

“And the third?”

“Beaten repeatedly with the ugly stick when she was a baby. She will be the spinster aunt in the years ahead.”

“Ouch!”

“I do not say it to be cruel, just to be honest.”

Chapter 19

Elizabeth would have thought it highly amusing that one of her damning lines, loudly and mockingly said by hired footmen, would be given credence by none other than Darcy’s aunt. The Countess of Matlock was meeting several of her fellow noblewomen for tea in the heart of Mayfair. Between stepping down from her own carriage and the tearoom, she heard the single phrase that would come to define Caroline Bingley more than any other.

“We were in the queue for the Earl of Tavistock’s ball last night.”

This immediately had her interest as she and her husband had been at this very event.

“I saw one Bingley carriage for sure, and I think I saw another. It is hilarious that a Bingley carriage is part of the occasion but that the Bingleys themselves would never be invited. The Tavistock Ball is one of the highlights of the season. As if Caroline Bingley could get an invite!”

She never saw the face of either of the two footmen and they parted naturally. She stepped into the tearoom and they continued down the street. But the words struck right to the heart of the issue. Just as Elizabeth had intended.

An hour later the tale had been shared with five others. By the end of the week, it had been retold at least 100 times. Caroline Bingley had sown a vicious slander in Meryton, and nurtured it here in London while damning the Gardiners as well as Eliza Bennet. Unfortunately for Caroline, the scythes of revenge were out and she was still standing tall in the field.

--

“Caroline, I am desolate for you. This is a social catastrophe.”

Francis Carlisle had been unsure whether to be at home for Caroline Bingley. There was already a taint to the Bingley name and she did not want to be associated with it. However, the opportunity to shed crocodile tears on final time with her ‘friend’, while measuring which part of her back to stab, was too much to be denied. Thus Miss Bingley had been admitted and was sitting pale-faced and trembling in front of her. Miss Carlisle did not think to check with her own mother, who would have had the knocker down in an instant.

“What am I to do? I cannot believe my idiot uncle has allowed the carriages carrying our name to be sold here in London. Louisa has shed the name, and is now in residence in Yorkshire at the estate of Hurst’s family. She will not allow me to visit, to provide shelter in my time of need!”

That was nothing but common sense, survival. Francis approved wholeheartedly.

“What of your brother?”

“As usual he has been lamentably slow to understand the damage this is causing. At first he did not think it would matter. It is not as if the name Bingley is adorned on the side of these carriages. But the news has spread like wildfire around town. The current joke is that a Bingley can attend the Tavistock Ball, but it is just the carriage, there is no way my brother or I would get an invite.”