Courtships & Corruption

by Cinnamon Worth

  Today, she would speak to Lizzy about her feelings toward the suitor. Charlotte could not deny the gentleman seemed very enamored of her friend the night before, but Lizzy did not seem to appreciate the attention he was showing her. Charlotte would never get in the way of Elizabeth’s happiness so she would need to know for certain exactly what type of future the cousins might enjoy. If things were as she suspected, and as her father predicted, she would muster up her courage and go after what she wanted. She would act boldly and would make her parents proud. If Lizzy did not want the man, then she would make him her own.

  Upon arriving at Longbourn, Charlotte discovered she had no need to discuss the matter with her friend. She was quickly apprised of all relevant facts regarding the matter of the relationship between Elizabeth Bennet and William Collins and it was perfectly clear, if anything, her father had underestimated her friend’s objection to the match. After Lizzy firmly declined her cousin, and Mr. Collins discovered her rejection was not made in an effort to be coy, he withdrew his offer. Further, Jane had received a note from Caroline Bingley, which had left her shaken and Lizzy wished to be done with Mr. Collins and the whole business entirely so she might focus on her dearest sister.

  Charlotte spent her time at Longbourn comforting and entertaining the man who had caused such a flutter. Charlotte’s successful distraction of their houseguest was most appreciated by all, with the exception of Mrs. Bennet. When Mr. Collins asked for Charlotte’s hand the following day, all of Lucas Lodge rejoiced. Had Lizzy not thought the man unworthy of her friend, she too would have been overjoyed. But the knowledge that Charlotte had willingly sacrificed so much for so little, left Elizabeth sorely disappointed.

  Chapter 17

  Smith had taken one of the back roads to London. This road in particular was very rarely used. Even when he had traveled this route in the daylight, he had rarely seen anyone else. He pulled the wagon off the road to rest his horse for a few hours. He could not risk, nor could he afford, a hack, but with a few hours’ rest, the pathetic animal he had stolen could complete the journey. They had made good time thus far. He expected that they would still make it to town before day break. Joshua assumed the girl was asleep. After forty minutes, he too fell asleep. He had not intended to do so, but the quiet darkness coupled with the exhaustion brought on by weeks of anxiety, had put him under Morpheus’ spell.

  Betsy had lain silently, but she was awake. When she heard the rhythmic breathing, she knew her captor was not. She had earlier managed to wiggle her hands out of their bondage. If she wished to escape, this might be her only chance.

  Luck was on her side, for after she slipped out the back of the wagon undetected, she could see in the distance the tiniest sliver of light. She could only presume that it was a lantern carried by another weary traveler. She began to run forward. Unfortunately, in her haste and darkness, she tripped. Her fall alerted Smith of her attempted escape. He jumped from the rig and began chasing after her. It became immediately apparent that she could not outrun him, so she ran into the adjacent field hoping that he would find it more difficult to spot her if she had the ability to run in numerous directions. The field was covered in high brush, which also provide her with some coverage. Indeed, Joshua found the hunt had become more challenging, especially as he ventured farther into the field and the light from the lantern hanging from his wagon grew distant and faint.

  As they played this dangerous game of hide and seek, the traveler coming the other way down the road was nearly upon the scene. Betsy watched from a crouched position until the light from the traveler’s lantern was at the nearest point in the road. She knew that if she stayed in the field, it was only a matter of time before she was found. It would not stay dark forever. And even in the dark, every effort to move produced the sound of crushing brush, alerting her kidnapper of her location. She decided to call to the traveler. If he were near enough to hear her, she hoped he would come to her aid.

  Joshua too had been watching the light of the approaching lantern. He was carrying a gun because he knew that if he were caught there would be a hanging. He was determined — he would not be discovered. A few yards behind him, he heard the brush give way. He knew it was Betsy rising. Then he caught the beginnings of her scream. He had only a split second to make a choice.

  He could shoot Betsy before her cry could form words. He could then tell the traveler the noise had been from an animal he had just shot after it had attacked his horse. If the traveler accepted his story, he would have lost his cargo but he would get out of this dilemma cleanly. If the traveler questioned him and went to investigate, he could then dispose of the witness and still walk away cleanly. Or he could shoot the traveler and then get Betsy back into the cart. Then he would still be able to deliver the goods and get paid. The choice seemed obvious, but his mind quickly considered how little he knew about the traveler. Was there only a single traveler or would he need to face a group? Did these travelers also carry guns? Betsy was nearby, and he could shoot her with accuracy, but could he shoot a moving target on the road from here with accuracy? Was the traveler some nobody who would not be missed, or would his death cause a large-scale investigation? He was loath to sacrifice goods he had worked so hard to gather, but there was simply too much uncertainty to attack the traveler first. Betsy needed to be put down.

  Less than a second after opening her mouth and letting out a scream, a bullet pierced her and Miss Barton’s body fell to the ground with a dull thud. To Smith’s astonishment, the light did not stop or even slow down. He never questioned his good fortune. He simply hurried back to his cart and drove to Meryton. He returned to the barracks and climbed into bed. No one noticed his absence, and the next morning, no one was the wiser about his nefarious adventures of the prior evening.

  Smith would have been very disappointed had he known that the traveler was both deaf and feeble. He had neither heard Betsy’s cry nor the gunshot that followed. If Smith had known these facts, he could have shot the man dead and been holding a fistful of cash. If Betsy had known, she too would have been disappointed. She sacrificed her life chasing someone who would have been ill equipped to help her even if she had been able to alert him of her peril. It was only the old man who had been lucky that evening. But he would never know how much he had benefited from the cover of darkness.

  ∞∞∞

  A loud rapping on his bedroom door roused Bingley from sleep. “Charles, I insist you get up.” Caroline’s voice left no room for compromise. “It is now three in the afternoon, and you have spent the last week hiding yourself away. I will not have it.”

  Bingley threw the covers over his head and tried to ignore his sister. His efforts were in vain.

  “Charles, you leave me no choice. I am coming in.” A clinking of keys could be heard. Moments later the barricade was breached. Bingley froze under the covers hoping he would go unnoticed and his sister would assume he had left for the day. His hope was dashed when Caroline immediately marched to the bed, threw back the covers, and glared down at his pale form. “Have you been wearing those same clothes this whole time?” she demanded. “This will not do. You must get out of this room and,” she paused momentarily as she considered if she had done the right thing, “I have accepted an invitation to a ball this evening. It will do you good to mingle and, honestly, a bath and fresh clothes are an absolute must.” Caroline crossed the room, threw back the curtains, and opened the windows to let out the stale air.

  “I do not want to go to a ball,” Bingley said as he squinted against the light and tried to pull the covers back up to his neck.

  Caroline thought back to their youth and remembered a time when her brother had misplaced a treasured toy. He had acted then in this sulking, irritating manner. The governess had refused to let him wallow and Caroline would now do the exact same thing. “If you even think about pulling those covers up one more inch, I will rip them off you and throw them in the fire.” Charles let go of his duvet. “I am sorry you are disappoi
nted that your friendship with Miss Bennet will go no further, but you will not waste all of our time in London sitting in your bedchambers.” A valet walked into the room, and she turned to the man. “See that he is washed, groomed, and dressed. I expect him downstairs in thirty minutes.” With that, she left closing the door behind her.

  Darcy was waiting in the parlor with his sister, Georgiana. When Caroline entered he stood up and asked, “How is he?”

  She shrugged. “He will be down in half an hour. Would you care for some refreshments?”

  Darcy shook his head, and Georgiana politely declined. Georgiana looked to her brother. She felt more anxiety for him than she did for Mr. Bingley. Mr. Bingley wore his emotions on his sleeve. It was easy to see when he was distressed, and those who loved him knew when they were needed. Darcy, however, was surprisingly adept at hiding his feelings, and even though Georgiana knew him exceedingly well, even she occasionally struggled to identify his moods. She was certain he blamed himself for his friend’s sorrow. But there was more than guilt that lurked in his soul.

  “Miss Bingley,” Georgiana ventured, “did you enjoy your stay in Hertfordshire.” She was hoping that she might learn something which might aid her in understanding what had contributed to her brother’s distress.

  “The estate was adequate, I suppose. But I had told Charles originally that he should look for something closer to Pemberley. I can now say, I was right. The people in Hertfordshire — well, they certainly lack refinement.”

  “Did you have much cause to spend time with them outside of weekly services?”

  Caroline was pleasantly surprised. Miss Darcy had no idea of any of the social engagements her brother had taken part in. He must have not felt the event or the people were noteworthy. “We did attend a local assembly and later hosted a ball. I was also visited by a woman who unfortunately took ill and had to stay at our home for a few days. Her company was tolerable, but soon her sister came to care for her and, as I am sure your brother can tell you, the woman lacked all sense. Why, when she arrived she was covered in mud and had apparently walked the five miles from her estate!”

  Georgiana was intrigued by the flicker of light she saw across her brother’s face. Could it be that her brother and Mr. Bingley had both taken an interest in the same lady and that this contributed to their mutual dark moods?

  “Darcy told me nothing of these events,” Georgiana said turning to her brother with a look that clearly indicated she felt he had been remiss. “Did these unexpected houseguests have names?”

  “Miss Bennet is the woman who took ill, and her sister, Miss Elizabeth, came to her aid,” Darcy replied.

  Georgiana noticed a wince when her brother said ‘Miss Elizabeth.’ The woman clearly had impacted her brother. She was about to ask more of the young lady when Mr. Bingley walked into the room.

  “I heard you speaking of Miss Bennet. Have you been in correspondence, Caroline?”

  “I have,” Caroline answered. She retrieved a cup of tea she had poured and brought the beverage to her brother. “She sent a letter. Why, it was only just today that I responded. I let her know we are nicely settled in London for the winter and have been enjoying the company of the Darcys.”

  “Did she ask about me?” Bingley made no attempt to hide his anxiety and hope. It was abundantly clear to Georgiana that Mr. Bingley was in love with Miss Bennet, not Miss Elizabeth.

  “No,” Caroline lied. Her response took the little bit of wind right out of Bingley’s sails. He sank into a chair and looked dejected.

  Darcy, seeing the melancholy that overtook Bingley’s spirit, suggested that he and his friend retire to the study to allow the women some privacy. Once the gentlemen were alone, Bingley broke down in tears. “She did not even ask after me. You were right, Darcy. I meant nothing to her.”

  This open display of emotions shocked Darcy, and he was unsure how to react. He walked toward his friend to give him a pat on the back only to have Bingley embrace him in a hug and begin sobbing onto his shoulder. “Uh, Bingley, have you been drinking?” he asked awkwardly.

  “No. I cannot sleep, eat, or drink. I think of nothing but her. I truly thought she was the one. Perhaps, if she would have me, she might learn to love me with time.”

  Darcy managed to steer his friend into a chair by the fire. He handed Bingley a handkerchief, which was declined as the man withdrew his own from his pocket. Darcy decided that perhaps a drink would actually aid in settling Bingley’s nerves. Fortunately, he had spent a sufficient amount of time in this room and knew exactly where the spirits were located. He crossed the room, opened a cupboard, made his friend’s preferred drink, and returned to the fireplace. “We agreed that you would cease all efforts to woo her and see if she showed any indication of her interest in you. Your sister says she has shown none, despite the opportunity. While I think her family ill bred, it would be of no concern if she truly loved you and would make you happy. But clearly, the former is being proven false, and I cannot believe the latter is possible without love.”

  “But it has only been two weeks. Maybe there are other reasons that she had not asked after me. She has only written a single letter.”

  “If I were given the kind of encouragement you showed Miss Bennet by someone I loved, I would be unable wait two weeks to ask after her,” Darcy said. Silently, he thought to himself that even with no encouragement he found himself unable to go a minute without thinking of his love. Darcy envied his friend’s ability to put his emotions on display. It looked so freeing to let such agony escape. Darcy decided to live vicariously. After all, Charles Bingley looked just as he felt.

  After fifteen minutes or so, Bingley pulled himself together. “I apologize, Darcy. I must stop acting this way.”

  “Yes, you must,” Darcy had become so engrossed watching the display his friend presented, he feared he might succumb to his own emotions if Bingley did not resume the traditional British stoicism soon. “After all, it seems we have a ball to get ready for.”

  Bingley gave a weak smile. He did love balls. “I will do my best to have a good time. We cannot both show up and sulk. I know you have claimed the ballroom as your territory for displaying gloom.”

  Darcy reflected on that thought. It was true. Tonight, he could at least let his guard down a little without drawing his sister’s attention. She would expect his mood to darken in such a setting.

  Chapter 18

  For several days, Betsy’s lifeless body decomposed in a field that lay between Meryton and London. In all likelihood, her body would still remain unfound had it not been for a gentleman who had brought his dog out to the woods near his home for some exercise. The dog had caught the distant scent of decaying flesh drifting through the air and had run with speed to the long abandoned field. The man made haste to follow, cursing all the while at his pet’s erratic behavior. When the man caught up to his dog and viewed the carrion before him, it took him a moment to understand that the carcass was human. Decomposition and scavengers had made the corpse nearly unrecognizable.

  The victim had obviously been murdered. When the magistrate came to examine the scene, he was able to locate the bullet still buried in her rotting flesh. But who she was and what had happened remained a mystery. Her disappearance had not been reported in this area, or any area for that matter. Being orphaned and poor, few noticed her absence, and news of her disappearance had not spread very far. Besides, it was not unique when a girl went missing. It was common for the young to shift between towns looking for work. The man who had first come across the body was told by the magistrate that without a witness, her murder would likely remain a mystery.

  Caroline Bingley had not given a thought to Betsy or any other servant left behind in Hertfordshire. She had problems of her own to deal with. In fact, she had waited weeks to broach a most delicate of subjects with her brother. She had delayed due to concern for his fragile mental state, but putting his needs before her own felt foreign and she was very much ready for things to
return to normal. It was exhausting dealing with someone so self-indulgent. She had been forced to think of his feelings nearly the entire time they had been in London, and now it was even getting in the way of her social engagements.

  Charles’ selfish need to wallow had caused acquaintances to ask after his health at the ball. This had not only directed the conversation away from important things, like fashion, it had also impeded her dancing! Enough was enough. She was ready to close the door on that chapter of their lives. If he was not, then she would simply need to drag him through the door and slam it herself. And so at breakfast, Caroline informed her brother that she would be sending Mrs. Butler instructions to pare down the staff of Netherfield.

  Bingley set down his coffee. “Caroline, you cannot be serious. You know that there is a shortage of domestic staff in Meryton. If we let them go and then decide to return, what will we do?”

  “I see no reason for returning. I think it would be best if you find someone to assume your lease for the balance of your contract. The reason you decided to lease rather than buy was so you could determine if it was an estate you could be happy with for the long term. We were fortunate to learn the answer to this question quickly so we may proceed to look elsewhere. I thought Derbyshire might be a nice location to consider.” Caroline picked up her spoon and began tapping her egg. The shell began to crack.