“It is her house, Caroline. She may speak as she finds.” He smiled proudly. “In fact, I am rather enjoying this.”
“But where do you expect me to go?”
Mr. Darcy’s expression spoke his answer to that, and it was not to heaven. Elizabeth cleared her throat very quietly to interrupt any impolite sound of mirth. In truth, her relief was so profound that she might not be able to stop.
“To Scarborough,” Charles replied. “Louisa and Hurst are still there, and if they will not admit you to their family circle again, you may stay with Aunt Penelope. Poor Mrs. Matthias has already inquired whether she might return to her own family, so she will again serve as your companion, and I will pay her handsomely for the journey. But Caroline, do not think I shall be covering any of your personal expenses henceforth. You have enough money to purchase everything you need and most of what you want. I have other responsibilities now.”
“Charles!” Miss Bingley’s countenance was ashen. “How will I purchase new clothing for the season?”
“Do not importune my husband, Miss Bingley,” Jane said steadily. “We cannot shelter a woman who would willingly injure two good people for nothing but her own selfish gain. Please do not bother to join us for meals. You may take them in your rooms.” She turned to Mr. Darcy. “You, however, should dine with us. No more hiding in your chamber.”
Mr. Darcy inclined his head slowly in assent. Perhaps he was afraid to move too quickly for fear that Jane might lambastehim. Elizabeth did not utter a sound. She did not want to draw Jane’s ire down on her head, either.
Charles rang the bell for Carstairs, who appeared so quickly that he must have been standing nearly at the door. Whether he had been preventing eavesdropping by the other servants, or doing so himself, she did not know.
“Carstairs, have a maid escort Miss Bingley to her rooms,” Jane said politely. “And please follow her to make certain she does not walk anywhere else first.”
“Very good, madam,” Carstairs replied and waited.
Miss Bingley looked pleadingly at her brother, but Charles merely lifted an eyebrow. Then she glanced at Mr. Darcy, but whatever she saw on his countenance did not encourage her to speak. So Miss Bingley straightened her shoulders and tossed her head back before stepping regally out of the room. Carstairs followed, closing the door behind them.
A great deal of tension left the room with Miss Bingley’s departure, and Darcy’s mind began to sort through all that had been revealed. Bingley knew all about his failed proposal now, knew that what Darcy felt was not some mild infatuation.
The paper of his letter was rough against his fingertips.
Elizabeth glanced at her sister, whose eyes were closed. “Are you well, Jane?”
“I will be well,” Mrs. Bingley replied, opening her eyes and releasing a deep breath. “I do not care for confrontation, as you know, but it could not be helped.”
“Absolutely not,” Bingley agreed, taking her hand to kiss. “I find myself even more in awe of you than when I asked you to be my wife, Jane Bingley.”
Mrs. Bingley smiled beatifically at her husband. “It is easier to be strong when I have you to support me,” she told him, and he beamed back at her.
“Bingley,” Darcy asked suddenly, “was anyone ever ill?”
“Only you, Darcy,” Charles replied without looking at his friend. “Lovesick. Terrible case. There will be no leaving Netherfield until you are out of danger.”
“Charles,” Mrs. Bingley said reprovingly, but then laughed a little.
Darcy tossed his head back and stared at the ceiling as he attempted to compose himself, caught between irritation and appreciation. He ought to have known instantly what Bingley was about, but he had been so unhappy it had quite slipped past him. Lovesick indeed.
Mrs. Bingley turned back to the room. “Now, Lizzy,” she said firmly, “You will have ten minutes alone with Mr. Darcy and then we will return. I beg you, be honest with him. A great deal of trouble might have been spared if you had simply spoken your hearts to one another after the wedding.” She was still holding Bingley’s hand as she began to walk again, and he hurried to catch up.
“Does Lizzy care for Darcy?” Bingley asked his wife as they walked away. Darcy’s eyes shot to Elizabeth, who winced; surely Bingley was unaware he was speaking so loudly. “I could see that Darcy cared forher. I kept delaying him in the hopes he would speak with her.”
This drew his attention back to Bingley. “Youdelayed me?” Darcy asked. “More than telling me the house was under quarantine?” He was shocked, though he ought not be. Bingley’s behaviour was all of a piece.
Charles looked over his shoulder to say, quite calmly, “Anders helped.”
“Andersknew?” Darcy felt quite stupid. Of course Anders knew. Darcy would not take Bingley’s word on the state of his horses, but he would trust Anders without question.
“Of course. I spoke with him when he came to Longbourn after the wedding. He knew you were not yourself, and I told him I thought I could help. Good man, Anders.”
“Unbelievable.”
“What is unbelievable is that you believed it all,” Bingley called as his wife pulled him into the hall.
Darcy could not but agree. He had been miserable and blind.
