“One finds with such difficult relatives that the best solution is to keep them at as great a distance as possible. Do not fear, Georgiana, your uncle and I are well aware of your Aunt de Bourgh’s nonsensical threats to remove you from your brother’s guardianship and we should never have allowed it to come to pass. Your uncle is the head of our family, just as Mr Bingley is the head of his, and we must trust them to manage the more difficult members of it appropriately.” She looked at Jane with that sisterly little smile again. “Guided by their wives, of course.”
“Of course,” Jane echoed, thinking that she was going to like Lady Matlock very much. The Countess had seemed formidable at first, but her solidarity in the face of adversity was like a healing balm to Jane’s wounded heart.
“You too are family now, Mrs Bingley,” Lady Mat lock said in a further surprising twist, “since your sister is married to my nephew. I hope you will remember that, should you ever need to call upon my aid.”
There wasn’t a lot Jane could say to that, other than, “Your ladyship is too generous,” and drop an even deeper curtsy. Lady Matlock gave her a gently dismissive nod and another smile, and Jane departed with a much lighter heart than she had entered with.
Lizzie
Doctor Thomas was just exiting the Darcy suite when Jane got to the door.
“Miss Bennet… I do beg your pardon, Mrs Bingley,” he bowed slightly to her.
“How does my sister, Doctor?” Jane had little patience for niceties at that moment. “Please, tell me that she will be well, and soon, I beg of you!”
He looked at her kindly over his half-moon glasses, smiled a little. “Not so soon as we both would wish, but yes, my dear. Elizabeth will soon be well. In my experience, broken bones of the type Mrs Darcy has sustained take perhaps four weeks to begin to heal, and closer to two months for the patient to be completely recovered.”
“Two months!” Jane made a horrified face. “Oh, dear!”
“Please allow me to assure you, just as I have just told Mr Darcy, that it need not prevent Mrs Darcy from continuing with her regular activities, in the main. Mrs Darcy is fortunate to have a maid to help her bathe and dress, by far the most difficult activities with such an injury. She may still walk, and read, and even write letters, since it is her left hand that is injured and not her right. No needlework for the time being though, I am afraid.”
“Lizzy never cared so much for needlework anyway,” Jane said with a small smile, reassured just as the doctor had intended. “But is she in much pain, Doctor? Is there anything I can do for her?”
“I have given her a little syrup of poppy in a glass of wine, and I shall return tomorrow to see how she does. Until then, I believe that she is in the best of hands with her husband, my dear.” The doctor patted her hand soothingly before departing.
Jane hesitated outside the door, wondering if she should just leave Elizabeth and Darcy alone; but her love for her sister compelled her to be sure that Elizabeth was made as comfortable as she could possibly be. A little timidly, she tapped at the door.
The door was opened by Barnes, Mr Darcy’s austere and rather intimidating valet. Jane had met the man only a few times, and he was in Mr Darcy’s employ rather than that of Netherfield, so she had no authority over him whatsoever. Meekly, she asked;
“Please might I see Mrs Darcy, Barnes?”
The valet looked down his long nose at her before saying “I shall see if Mr Darcy will permit a brief visit, Mrs Bingley.”
Jane supposed that she should be grateful he didn’t quite shut the door in her face, but left it ajar while he went to speak with Darcy. It was Darcy himself who returned, opening the door and giving her a tight little smile.
“Jane,” he said, in not unkind tones, and the tears she’d been holding in for some time now finally began to slip down Jane’s cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, and Darcy sighed wearily, put his arm around her shoulders and drew her into the room.
“Sit down, Jane.” He pressed her into a chair, put his handkerchief into her hand. “Lizzy is sleeping, the doctor assures me that she will be fine.”
“But it’s the day after your wedding!” Jane cried, “you should be…” she blushed, thinking of what she and Charles had planned to do all day. “Well, you should be together, celebrating, not…”
“I know, but we cannot always have what we want.” Darcy seated himself opposite her, looked at her earnestly. “Sometimes things happen that are beyond our control, and this is one of those things. Neither you nor Charles are to blame for Miss Bingley’s actions; indeed, I know that Charles laid down certain stringent conditions to her before your wedding, in the hopes of reining in her behaviour.”
“He did?” Jane’s eyes opened wide.
“He did, but I admit that I do not know the precise details.” Darcy smiled a little more genuinely at her. “I know only that he sought to protect both you and Elizabeth from her spite, and that clearly her own rage and vitriol won out over her better self.”
“I am not sure that Caroline has a better self,” Jane said, and then clapped a hand over her mouth, looking horrified that she had even thought such a thing.
Darcy actually laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, Jane. That could have been said by my Lizzy herself.”
“It was a rather Lizzy thing to say, wasn’t it?” Jane gave him a slightly watery smile, wiped at her eyes once more. “Perhaps after all these years she is rubbing off on me a little.”
“In my eyes, there can be no such thing as too much Elizabeth.” Darcy reached out, gave her hand a gently reassuring touch. “Jane, please do not worry about Lizzy. Her care is my responsibility and I will see to it with every resource at my disposal.”
She took a deep breath. “Every resource at Netherfield is at your disposal, then, and that includes myself, should Lizzy require nursing. I could not possibly do less for her than she once did for me.”
Darcy actually choked up for a moment. “Her sisterly affection for you was what first endeared her to me,” he said a little huskily. “When I saw how devoted she was to your care during your illness.”
They smiled mistily at each other before Jane wiped at her eyes again and tucked Darcy’s handkerchief into her sleeve, promising to launder and return it. He waved away her promise with a warm smile.
“We are brother and sister now; I cannot tell you how many pocket-handkerchiefs I have lost to Georgiana’s clutches. Barnes makes sure I am never without.”
Jane smiled. “Should you require anything, anything at all, please have Barnes or Lizzy’s maid request it of the housekeeper. I shall inform her that Lizzy’s needs are the first priority of this household until she is recovered fully.”
She was quite surprised when Darcy claimed her hand and kissed it.
“It is the day after your wedding too, Jane,” he told her, “and you should be spending it with your husband. Go and find Charles; he will need your loving comfort more than any of us just now. Whatever else Miss Bingley might be, she is still his sister.”
Accepting finally Darcy’s assurances that Elizabeth was already receiving the best of care, Jane took her leave. She was lucky enough to find the housekeeper just at the top of the stairs, supervising Caroline’s trunks being carried down to be loaded into the carriage. Drawing her aside briefly, Jane gave instructions that Mr Darcy’s requests were to be given the highest possible priority and that anything he might request be provided to him immediately.
“Of course, Mrs Bingley,” Mrs Hughes bobbed a respectful curtsy. “Would you like me to station a maid to sit outside their suite, so that she will be on hand in case anything should be required?”
“Excellent suggestion, Mrs Hughes, I shall leave it in your capable hands.”
The housekeeper beamed at her, obviously delighted by the small gesture of trust. Jane had seen enough of Caroline’s style of managing Netherfield’s staff to know that a gentler hand would come as a welcome relief.
“Is she still the same, Gladys?” Mrs Hughes checked with a passing maid; when she answered in the affirmative, the housekeeper turned back to Jane. “Mr and Mrs Hurst went down just a few minutes ago, ma’am, but Miss Bingley has declined to leave her rooms.”
Jane stared back at her for a moment before her jaw firmed. “Where is my husband?” she asked.
“Your suite, I believe, ma’am.”
“Good; he does not need to be a witness to this. Pray, would you kindly have someone collect our two largest footmen?”
Mrs Hughes’ eyes widened, and then she began to smile. “Gladly, ma’am!” She hurried off to do Jane’s bidding herself.
Within moments, she returned with two strapping young men trailing at her heels. “Andrew and Alfred, Mrs Bingley,” she said. They both bowed deeply. Jane suspected they were brothers; they had a very similar look about them.
“Please follow me,” she said, “and do anything I instruct you to. Remember that I am mistress of Netherfield now, and that Miss Bingley is leaving; she will not be returning. No matter what she may say, she has no power to punish you.”
“Aye, ma’am,” Andrew agreed, and Alfred nodded. The pair of them looked almost as pleased as Mrs Hughes; the housekeeper followed along as well as Jane entered Caroline’s suite without bothering to knock at the door.
Departure
Caroline’s bedchamber was a scene of chaos, Caroline screaming like a fishwife at two maids who were trying to pack her things, grabbing dresses out of trunks and flinging them about the room so that they had to pick them up all over again. Shocked, Jane stopped dead for a moment, just surveying the scene, before gathering herself.
Clapping her hands together sharply, Jane shouted “Stop this nonsense at once!”
Caroline fell silent mid-screech, turning to face Jane with her mouth still hanging open like a carp.
“You need not pick up those gowns, Agnes,” Jane said steadily as one of the maids took advantage of the sudden ringing silence to dart forward and grab up a couple of dresses. “If Miss Bingley does not want to take them with her, she need not.”
Caroline smirked victoriously. “There, I told you that I would not be leaving!”
“Oh no,” Jane said. “You are leaving. But you are quite correct that you will not need such ornate gowns as these; I understand that Sir John and Lady Forrest live quite retired. I am sure that Mrs Hurst can make use of some of these in your absence… indeed, this yellow silk will suit Kitty quite well, I shall have it made over for her.”
Quite frozen with rage for a moment as Jane took the gown from Agnes and held it up to admire, Caroline could not believe what she was hearing, nor the calm, matter-of-fact tone Jane used to deliver the words.
“How dare you!” she shouted finally. “You jumped-up little nobody, your horrid sister certainly will not have any of my things!”
Jane draped the gown over her arm and fixed Caroline with a level stare. “You forget yourself, Caroline. Your actions today have shown Charles and I that you are not fit to be in charge of any decisions; you have no idea how to behave in a civil manner, in society or out of it. Frankly, I want no part of you. Get out of my house.”
Caroline was so shocked she could not move. Jane took a step forward, standing almost nose to nose with her, no fear whatsoever in her expression. Unconsciously, Caroline took a step back; where had quiet, pliable Miss Bennet gone? This woman was confident, secure in her position; Caroline could not intimidate her.
“I said, get out of my house,” Jane repeated, enunciating her words very clearly. “You can leave on your own two feet and maintain some measure of your dignity, or I will have Alfred and Andrew carry you out bodily. The choice is yours.”
Caroline’s mouth worked, but she could make no words emerge. Dropping her gaze from those implacably calm aqua eyes, she looked at her maid. “Finish packing those things, Betty…”
“No,” Jane interrupted. “You have quite enough, I believe. You will leave now.”
“But…” Barely a third of her belongings had been packed and taken downstairs, since Caroline had been doing her level best to impede the process.
“Now.” Jane pointed to the door, her expression calm but implacable. “If you are not walking down those stairs by the time I reach the count of ten, you will be going down them over Alfred’s shoulder. One. Two. Three.”
Jane was not counting slowly. Caroline’s feet moved without a conscious decision from her, carrying her past the two grinning footmen.
“Seven. Eight…”
She began to run, suddenly desperate to get her feet on the stairs, somehow quite certain that if her foot was not on the top step by the time Jane reached ten, that her exit from Netherfield would be more ignominious than she could bear.
“That,” the maid Agnes said into the silence left in Caroline’s wake, “was the best thing I have ever seen.”
“Aye, ma’am.” Alfred and Andrew were gazing at Jane worshipfully. Betty looked at the door, then at Jane, her brow creased in worry. It was then that Jane noticed the red handprint on the girl’s cheek, an exact match to the fingermarks she had seen on Elizabeth’s not long ago.
“Betty!” she gasped, stepping forward and reaching to put her hand under Betty’s chin gently. “Did Miss Bingley strike you?”
Betty nodded, tears beginning to fall from her reddened eyes. “I should go with her, ma’am,” she said anxiously. “Miss Bingley said she’d turn me off without a character.”
“No, Betty,” Jane dropped her hand from the maid’s chin, grasped her hands. “You are employed here at Netherfield, by Mr Bingley and myself, not by Miss Bingley. I assure you that you still have a position, and should you need a character reference, I will write you a glowing one personally.”
“I do?” Betty’s lower lip trembled.
“If you wish to go with Miss Bingley, I will not prevent it; indeed, I shall think that your loyalty to her is commendable. Should she fail to see to your stipend, I will make sure that it is paid to you.” Jane spoke gently, seeing that the girl was distraught. “I have a personal maid already and have no need for another… but my sister Kitty could use a lady’s maid, and I should be happy to pay your wages for you to do that duty.”
“Oh ma’am,” Betty almost choked, and to Jane’s horror she slid to her knees and started kissing Jane’s hands. “Thank you, ma’am, thank you so much! I’d be right honoured to serve Miss Kitty, that I would! You truly are an angel, ma’am!”
“Oh do get up,” Jane hurriedly tugged Betty to her feet, “please, Betty. I promise, you will not be thinking that I am an angel after a few weeks with Kitty!”
Agnes snorted. “After Miss Bingley, serving Miss Kitty will be a cakewalk, ma’am. Betty knows how lucky she is.”
“Mind your tongue, Agnes,” Mrs Hughes said sharply.
The maid bowed her head penitently before tucking her arm through Betty’s. “Come on, Bet,” she said bracingly. “Let’s go down the servants’ stairs, and then you won’t even have to see her leave. With your leave, ma’am?”
Jane waved them off, the two footmen following in the maids’ wake, before heaving a small sigh. “If only I could escape down the servants’ stairs and not have to see her leave either,” she murmured to Mrs Hughes.
“You have already defeated the dragon, ma’am. I think you can stand to see her depart in disgrace.”
Jane had to bite her lip to keep from smiling at hearing Caroline referred to as a dragon; she gave Mrs Hughes her best stern look, which was apparently completely hopeless because the housekeeper only smiled at her and gave her arm a maternal little pat.
“You were absolutely marvellous, Mrs Bingley. The story will be all over Netherfield within the hour, and I have no doubt the staff will all be utterly devoted to you after you treated Betty so kindly.”
“Miss Bingley had slapped her, and I don’t doubt that it was not Betty’s fault in the slightest. My mother always told me that the true measure
of a gentleman, or a lady, is to be found in how they treat their servants. No servant will be mistreated at Netherfield while I am mistress here, you can be very sure of that!” Jane’s voice rose a little as she spoke, but it was a subject on which she felt quite passionate.
Descending the stairs with Mrs Hughes a couple of steps behind her, Jane could see through the open front doors that Caroline was already in the carriage, sitting huddled and silent in the corner. Mr and Mrs Hurst were just putting on their hats and gloves ready for departure, Charles bending down to kiss Louisa’s cheek before shaking Gerald’s hand.
“Take care of Jane, Charles,” Louisa told him, laying a hand upon his arm, “and please… enjoy being married. We’ll… manage Caroline.” Seeing Jane descending the stairs, she went to her and embraced her more warmly than she ever had before.
A little surprised, Jane nonetheless returned the embrace, and smiled at Mr Hurst as he made her a deep bow and said gruffly that he looked forward to being in her company again soon.
“Proud to call you family, Mrs Bingley,” he said, cheeks an even ruddier shade than usual. “You and all your family.”
“Since we are family, I think you had best call me Jane.” Gerald Hurst was no taller than she, so it was easy for her to lay her hand on his arm and salute his cheek with a sisterly kiss. “You and Louisa travel safely, and return to Netherfield soon. Charles and I will be very happy to have you home with us again.”
Charles put his arm about her waist and she could almost feel the warmth of his approval as he smiled broadly. “Jane is quite correct, Gerald; we shall always be glad of your company.”
Gerald snorted at that, took Louisa’s hand upon his arm and turned towards the door. “Then you’d be the first newlywed couple I’ve met in a while who wanted any company at all beyond each other!”
“Gerald!” Louisa chided as Jane blushed and Charles let out a bellow of laughter. “Really, that might be true but there are some things that are better left unsaid!”
“Don’t be missish, Lou. Jane’s a married woman now,” and Gerald tipped her a wink. Scandalised, Jane found herself blushing and giggling as the Hursts proceeded down the steps and climbed into the carriage; she caught a glimpse of Caroline glaring at her before the footman closed the door and the carriage rumbled away.
Mr Bingley's Bride (Sensual Historical Romance) Page 7