Miss Bingley Requests

by Judy McCrosky

  ‘Her winning us over,’ Caroline said, ‘is, of course, impossible, for we know there is much more to marriage than material advantages.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Mr Darcy sat up straight so precipitously that his tea slopped over onto the saucer. ‘I have no problem with Jane benefiting from a match, and I imagine that, if Charles is as smitten as he appears to be, he will view the connections as no more than a minor inconvenience.’

  ‘Minor inconvenience?’ Caroline snorted, a ladylike snort, of course, but still a snort, as there was no other way to show her opinion. ‘Mrs Bennet is adept at making herself a major inconvenience in every situation in which she finds herself.’

  ‘Charles has not been bothered by any of Jane’s relations during any of the occasions we have been together,’ Mr Darcy said. ‘He is well able to focus on what he wishes to perceive, and his good nature means the difficulties offered by Jane’s mother, and by her three younger sisters, do not overly upset him.’

  He said, Caroline thought with alarm, Jane’s three younger sisters. He did not include Elizabeth as one of those who present difficulties.

  ‘However,’ Mr Darcy continued, ‘as I have already stated, I am not convinced of the equal strength of Miss Bennet’s affection for Charles. Her countenance so rarely demonstrates any strength of feeling that I just cannot tell. But I am uncomfortable parting him from what may indeed be a true lifelong love based just on uneasy feelings and not on stronger evidence.’

  Caroline had no trouble at all parting Charles from Jane, based on no evidence whatsoever. Charles, in her mind, was to marry Georgiana Darcy. This was even more necessary than it had been, for when Mr Darcy became involved in planning his sister’s wedding, with Caroline’s help, of course, he would no longer have time to think about fine eyes. Plus, once one marriage was planned, it would make perfect sense to plan a second one as well, that of Mr Darcy and Caroline Bingley. The two families would indeed become one, something she knew was greatly desired by everyone. The families were affectionate with each other, and they knew each other so well, that the joining had in fact already occurred. All that was needed now were the marriages, to show before God and the nobility, that the Bingleys and Darcys were one.

  Mr Darcy still appeared uncertain, so Caroline quickly picked up on the one area she knew she could use. ‘I, also,’ she said, putting reluctance into her voice, ‘wondered about Jane’s motivations in spending so much time with Charles. I haven’t wanted to voice my concerns, because I did believe Jane truly was a friend to me and Louisa. Now that you mention it, though, I wonder if perhaps her supposed friendship with us was no more valid than her apparently growing feelings for Charles.’ Under the side table, where Mr Darcy could not see, she nudged Louisa’s leg with her foot.

  Louisa glanced over, surprised, but quickly caught on. ‘Oh! Yes, I am so happy to hear you say that out loud, Mr Darcy and dear sister, for I, too, have had my doubts. Jane spends a lot of time gazing into space, or working on her sewing, when in our company. Surely if she were a true friend, she would give all her attention to us.’

  Caroline winced, wondering if Mr Darcy would inquire if she and Louisa did not also spend time with their needlework when Jane was present, but fortunately he did not. ‘Jane does give Charles all of her attention,’ she said quickly, ‘when she is with him, but I, too, have noticed that her countenance, while always appearing pleasant, lacks that true strength of character that comes from spending time with a person one truly loves.’

  ‘I think, in fact,’ Louisa said slowly, ‘I am almost convinced that Jane cannot feel for Charles what he apparently feels for her. But how do we know the strength of Charles’ regard?’ She tilted her head to one side, almost as perkily as a bird, ‘Charles, as we know, does nothing by half-measures. When he is happy, the whole world delights him, and when he is sad, there is nothing, and never will be anything, that can make him smile. Does it not follow, then, that when he loves, it is the greatest passion ever to exist in this world? Perhaps, once he spends time in town, with its many other entertainments, he will cease to think of Jane at all.’

  ‘I suspect not,’ Mr Darcy said grimly. ‘But if this thing is to be done, if you also,’ and he looked searchingly at first Louisa and then at Caroline, where his glance lingered, ‘believe as I do that she does not return his affection, how are we to go about it?’

  ‘Clearly,’ said Caroline, ‘we must close up this house and return to town.’ She was surprised to hear herself say this, but it was a pleasant surprise, for the whole plan unfolded inside her mind as if she’d been thinking about this very thing for some time. ‘Once there, we will convince Charles that we could not bear to be without his company for the days he spends on his business. We shall see, then, if his affection dissipates over time. If not, we will gently tell him of exactly what has been discussed here, today. It will not be difficult to convince him that Miss Bennet’s regard was more in his head than it existed in actuality.’ She smiled triumphantly, knowing Mr Darcy would be impressed with her organisational abilities

  He still looked unhappy. ‘Are we truly doing this for Charles’ sake?’

  ‘Of course.’ Caroline blinked. ‘What other reason could there be?’

  He gazed at her for some time, his face, as usual, revealing nothing of his thoughts. Then he slapped his hands on his knees and sat on the edge of his chair. ‘Very well. But I insist on being present when you speak to Charles.’

  ‘Of course. I expected nothing else. You are his closest friend.’ Caroline smiled, a creamy sensation of well-being flowing into her chest. ‘And we can also tell him that one of our reasons for quitting Netherfield is your haste to once again join your sister. Dear Georgiana!’ She looked back at him, an inquiring brow raised. ‘I assume that you do, indeed, wish the reunion to come sooner rather than later?’

  He nodded. ‘Of course. I always miss her company when we are not together.’

  ‘Although,’ Caroline added with a coquettish smile, ‘I know not how you will fill your time, without the writing of constant letters to her to occupy you.’

  He smiled, too, but then abruptly turned sober. ‘And what of Miss Bennet? Surely she deserves more than this sudden abandonment. We must ask Charles to return once more, to say goodbye.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Caroline said. ‘He can write to her from London.’ When he still looked unhappy, she said briskly, ‘Or better still, I will write to her myself, explaining matters. Oh, you needn’t concern yourself,’ she held up a hand when he began to speak. ‘The letter will be kind and friendly. And gentle. I know precisely how to phrase it.’

  He looked at her, clearly still concerned, but at length he nodded and stood up. ‘Very well. I leave matters in your capable hands. And now I shall go for a ride, for this discussion has left me with a feeling that the walls are closing in on me.’ With a quick bow, he left them.

  Caroline relaxed her erect spine against the back of her chair and sighed. ‘Why,’ she asked Louisa, ‘is it so terribly exhausting doing what is right for people?’

  Louisa allowed her body, too, to sag out of its usual correct feminine posture. ‘I do not know. But I am glad we have done it.’

  Caroline nodded. ‘I shall write the letter this instant, although I think it must not be sent until after we have departed. Oh, I must set the servants to packing.’

  ‘I also,’ said Louisa wearily. ‘Plus I must find a way to convince Mr Hurst that he must leave this place which has comfortable beds, good shooting, and a considerable wine cellar. He will not be happy.’

  Caroline sent her sister a sympathetic glance. ‘Remind him that in town there are comfortable beds and good wine cellars aplenty. And he has killed plenty of birds, so he must dwell on the memories and not mourn the loss of opportunity to kill more.’

  She stood. ‘I shall return here shortly after dinner, to write the letter. I would appreciate your input, if you can spare the time.’

  ‘I shall endeavour to be here,’ Louisa said.
‘Although, dealing with a husband can make scheduling difficult.’

  Nonsense, Caroline thought. Just look at how easily, and productively, I have just dealt with Mr Darcy. And he is not even my husband, yet. To Louisa, though, she said, ‘I quite understand. If you are not there, I shall write it myself, and show it to you before it is sent.’

  Exchanging mutually satisfied smiles, the sisters left to prepare for the removal.

  * * *

  ‘Thank goodness,’ Caroline sighed as she sank into the chair at the writing table, ‘most of our things can be sent after.’ No one had joined her yet, and so she was speaking to an empty room, but this was the first moment she’d had to herself all day.

  Now, however, there was nothing more to do or say, except write the letter to Jane, and that wouldn’t take long. She could no longer delay the realisation that had resided in the back of her mind ever since she’d determined what had to be done for Charles.

  She was returning to London tomorrow. That meant that as soon as the day after, she could once again see him. Stephen Tryphon. She’d done her best not to think about him. After all, Mr Darcy was the only man she could ever want. Mr Tryphon’s letter, though, had not been consigned to the fire. It still resided in her jewel box, hidden away, but the creases in the paper had sharpened due to constant unfolding and refolding, until they threatened to split open, leaving her nothing more than tatters of paper instead of those beautiful words—beautiful and frightening.

  Caroline had never felt so out of control. Why had she not burned the letter? Why did she find herself, night after night, bringing it out to read again? There was no sense in burning it now, for she had its contents committed to memory. And each night, after she’d taken it out and opened it, and gazed at his strong, firm handwriting, she’d told herself, when she slid it beneath the velvet that lined the bottom of the jewel box, that in hiding it away she was likewise hiding him away—hiding his words and his presence that could send her senses, her skin, her heart, tingling until she could scarcely lie still in bed. Sleep was often long in arriving.

  She’d struggled to not think of him, but now she could avoid the thoughts no longer. When she returned, one of her first acts would be to send her card to her dear friend Eleanor, announcing her return. She knew from Eleanor’s letters that Mr Tryphon was still in town

  Eleanor would no doubt share the news of Caroline’s return with him, as soon as she received it. What would he do then? Would he feel as she did, impatient and yet a little frightened, knowing he would soon be in her presence? Would his breath come a little more quickly, would his heart seem to grow within his chest until there was barely enough room for his lungs?

  Caroline switched her train of thought at this point, wondering if the heart actually did grow when one had feelings for someone, and if so, if that was the reason why the breath quickened, since there was less room for the lungs to expand. Her anatomical musings were interrupted when Louisa and Mr Darcy entered the room, both asking if she had yet completed the letter to Jane.

  Unwilling to admit she had yet to begin, and resolutely pushing Mr Tryphon to the back of her mind, she said that she had been collecting her thoughts and wanted to ask their opinion of a couple of her ideas.

  ‘We need,’ she said, ‘to make it clear that none of us will be returning to Netherfield this winter.’ She looked a question at the others, and they nodded.

  ‘All right, then,’ she continued, ‘and also that while Louisa and I are sad to not be able to say goodbye in person, I shall say nothing about Charles having any regrets.’

  Mr Darcy had been fidgeting in his seat since he’d sat down, crossing his legs, uncrossing them, looking towards the window ands resolutely back at Caroline, crossing his arms, placing his hands flat on his knees. At this point, he stood, and said, ‘It appears you have this well in hand. I must leave you now, to, um, speak to my valet about the packing of certain of my jackets.’ He left the room.

  ‘Well, that is odd,’ Louisa said, looking at the door he’d just passed through.

  ‘It’s fine,’ Caroline said, firmly. ‘I plan to hint that Charles and Georgiana will soon be married, but was unwilling to say so in his presence. I will begin the letter, now, and read sections to you, so as to gain your thoughts. Is this agreeable to you?’

  Louisa appearing amenable to this plan, Caroline picked up a quill, inspected it for sharpness, and began writing. ‘My Dear Friend, By the time you receive this, we shall have quit Netherfield and be well on the road to London, there to join Charles, who departed, as you know, to deal with some business affairs. He left in good time, so as to be able to dine at Mr Hurst’s house in Grosvenor St.’ Reading this aloud, she looked to Louisa for her opinion.

  ‘A trifle abrupt, do you not think?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Caroline said, looking over the lines she had written. ‘There is, however, no sense in being vague. Still, I shall attempt to assuage any hurt feelings that may result.’ She resumed writing. ‘I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend;’ There, Louisa, how is that?’

  Louisa nodded. ‘It suits the purpose very well.’

  ‘Good. I shall continue. ‘but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that.’

  ‘Brilliant,’ Louisa said of this, but there was a touch of doubt in her voice. ‘Do you intend to take up a correspondence with her?’

  ‘What matters that?’ Caroline asked. ‘What matters is that I am a good writer now. And the words I’ve just penned are intended to do as Mr Darcy wishes. We must not be cruel, of course, and so I cannot pretend to a coldness I do not feel. But now I must attend to the heart of the matter.’ She laughed. ‘Oh! I did not intend that pun, but it is a very good one, is it not?’

  Louisa clapped her hands. ‘It is indeed. I shall have to remember it, to relate to Mr Hurst.’

  Caroline returned to the letter. ‘When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we are certain it cannot be so, and convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel.’ There,’ she said, ‘now that is a stroke of brilliance. Jane will be unable to disagree with our charitable reasons for leaving here, and she will appreciate any actions that tend to Charles’ comfort.’

  She continued, ‘Many of our acquaintances are already there for the winter; I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one in the crowd—but of that I despair. I sincerely hope that your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three friends of whom we shall deprive you.’

  ‘Now that,’ Louisa said upon hearing this last, ‘is brilliant.’

  ‘Yes,’ Caroline crowed. ‘By wishing her many beaux, I truly show that as far as we are concerned, there is not the slightest thought among us of her forming a match with Charles. But I must continue, and speak of Mr Darcy and his sister, so she sees that Charles was merely being his usual affable self, and not showing Jane any particular favour.’

  ‘Mr Darcy is impatient to see his sister; and, to confess the truth, we are hardly less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishment; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare to entertain of her being hereafter our sister.’

  ‘There,’ Caroline said with satisfaction. ‘I wish I could be present to see Mrs Bennet’s face when she hears that last. How dare she think that we would condone, much less w
ish, a match between our brother and one of her daughters?’ She paused to sharpen the quill, before resuming.

  ‘I do not know whether I have before mentioned to you my feelings on this subject; but I will not leave the country without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem then unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing; her relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a sister’s partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman’s heart.’

  ‘That,’ Louisa said, ‘is well put, and is actually most kind of you, Caroline.’

  ‘Yes, well,’ Caroline said, and was astonished to find a wetness well up in her eyes. She knew, after all, what it was to meet a man who could engage a woman’s heart, even if she knew she could not return his affection. Why, then, did she reread his letter every night? ‘I do not wish to be cruel, but simply to make her understand that if she expected anything more of Charles, it was an honest mistake.’

  Without waiting for Louisa to respond, she returned to writing. ‘With all these circumstances to favour an attachment; and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?’

  Caroline ended the letter with many best wishes for Jane’s health and wellbeing.

  Louisa took it up and read the whole out loud. ‘It is perfect,’ she said. ‘I am in awe of your literary skill.’

  Caroline smiled, without modesty. ‘I thank you. I have sometimes thought of penning a novel, but who has time for such a frivolous pursuit?’

  The letter was given to a servant who was to stay behind in the house, with strict instructions that it not be delivered until two hours after the family had departed. Then, well satisfied, the sisters went upstairs. They both slept well that night, even though thoughts of Mr Tryphon intruded into Caroline’s dreams.