Page 15

“But Caroline,” Bingley continued, needing no additional prompting from Darcy to keep talking. “I must remove her from London before she puts me in dun territory, I tell you. Last Season…” Bingley trailed off with a frown. “No, the Season before, was it?” He shook his head. “Yes, two Seasons ago, she talked me into permitting her to purchase a pelisse or some such at that dreadfully expensive modiste, Madame Dentelle.”

Darcy forwent mentioning that his Aunt Catherine frequented Madame Dentelle’s, which would sound boastful, and that Bingley wouldn’t need to curb Miss Bingley’s fashion aspirations if he gambled with less vigor, which Bingley surely knew.

“Thing cost a fortune and I put my foot down,” Bingley continued. “Quashed the idea of going back. But that was the Season Caroline almost brought that baron up to scratch, and she is convinced it was the pelisse, and keeps harping on about a full gown from the woman. As if a baron cares one jot about a pelisse. Dislike them, myself.”

“You dislike barons?” Darcy asked, having abandoned his thoughts to attempt to follow Bingley’s.

“Dislike pelisses. Cover all the good bits.”

Darcy regarded Bingley from under raised eyebrows.

“Well, they do, rather,” Bingley defended.

“Be that as it may, you said you must remove Miss Bingley from London.”

“Yes, before she can throw away any more money on clothing when we all know that baron was persuaded by an extra five thousand and a better pedigree, not a pelisse.”

Darcy nodded, though he only vaguely recalled the incident. When Miss Bingley’s marital aspirations weren’t aimed at him, he paid them little heed. When they were, he did all in his power to evade them.

“My point being, taking a place earlier than I planned is a splendid idea, and I do believe Netherfield Park is the place.”

Darcy grimaced at the reminder that he’d requested Bingley change his plans. “If leasing in the country does not suit you now—”

“It does,” Bingley cut in.

“The expense—”

“Is something I can afford.” Bingley grinned. “Besides, think what I will save on gambling debts and pelisses alone.”

Darcy obligingly smiled at that.

Growing more serious, Bingley continued, “Truly. Your friendship has been a great boon to me. I would never be accepted as I am if you did not continuously look past my father having come up in trade. I am happy to finally find a means to even that score, however minutely.”

“There is no score to be evened.”

“And who knows, it might help Louisa’s marriage,” Bingley added, ignoring Darcy’s self-effacement. “Hurst can hardly go wandering off at all hours out here.” A gesture out the window indicated the seemingly endless fields and copses they passed. “Not unless he plans to take up with foxes and whatnot.”

“Still, you have my gratitude.”

With a wave of his hand, Bingley brushed that aside. “It will suit me to have you about. Keep my relations on their good behavior.”

Darcy snorted. Miss Bingley found everything unsuitable, Mrs. Hurst was dreary and complaining, and Mr. Hurst usually asleep, when he appeared at all. Darcy wouldn’t want to see the presumably bad behavior that took place in his absence. “I am pleased to be of service.”

“Speaking of service, how is that cousin of yours doing?” Bingley asked. “I cannot say I care for what the papers are saying about the fighting over on the peninsula. I can only thank my late mother for squelching my youthful notions of joining the regulars. Cannot say I envy your cousin one bit, no matter how well I would look in uniform.”

Having recently received a letter from his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Darcy knew him to be well, and so was pleased to turn conversation to the war and other current topics for the remainder of the carriage ride.

He was less pleased when Bingley dropped him back at Darcy House to find his usually calm butler, Edwards, red-faced and grim.

“Mr. Darcy, sir, it is good to have you home, sir,” Edwards said before Darcy could so much as enquire as to what troubled the man, or even remove his hat.

Darcy’s thoughts snapped to his sister, Georgiana, who was in Pemberley with her new companion, Mrs. Annesley. “Has something happened?”

“While you were out, sir, Lady Catherine’s men came into this house and made to pack your possessions, sir.” Edwards practically vibrated with agitation. “We had to remove them, sir, and they said they would tell her ladyship, sir, and she would see us in the stocks, sir.” Edwards wrung his hands. “We had to put them out, sir. They were trying to get into your room, sir, and Patrick was in a fit, sir.”

Aggravation filled Darcy, chasing away his moment of dread. He peeled off his gloves. “I can well imagine.” Darcy’s valet, Patrick, would not look kindly to anyone rummaging about in his quarters.

“Are you going to Rosings, sir, as they said you are?”