Yes, when she saw him in her dreams, he looked as handsome as always; his chiselled features, good build, sandy blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes made him a very attractive man. However, Jane knew that it was his character and inner goodness which were the things that had drawn her to him. Just like she hated being judged for her superficial looks, she would not judge another on such shallow criteria as those.
She looked up into the night sky, and as she did every night before she climbed into bed and went to sleep, she offered up a prayer for Andrew to be brought safely back to her.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The Bingley coach drew to a halt in the drive near the broad stone steps which led up to the veranda before the double front doors of the house. Behind it were two carts. One was filled with Miss Bingley’s trunks; the second one had the other three peoples’ baggage as well as somefashionablefurniture the hostess of the estate insisted needed to be brought.
The house boasted three floors above the level of the entranceway. It was a fairly large rectangular structure constructed of big square stones in a light brown colour. To the one side of the drive were the formal gardens, almost all stark now, with the reds and browns of autumn seen everywhere, but with the promise of beauty in the spring. Beyond the gardens was a nice-sized park with almost leafless trees dotted around and a large pond off to one side in the distance. Past the park was a wilder area of untamed vegetation and trees.
By her age and the fact that she was married to a gentleman, her older sister by rights should have been the mistress of the estate. However, Caroline Bingley had loudly and vociferously demanded, and been awarded that role by herbrother, who would not stand up to her and hated to anger his younger, much more forceful, sister. Louisa Hurst had not protested either, as she was fully aware how nasty her sister could be if anyone attempted to cross her. Louisa and her husband Harold did their best to keep from igniting Caroline’s ire.
The other three in the coach had had enough of listening to the youngest Bingley’s diatribes about how her brother had failed her by not making sure Mr Darcy had ridden with them to this benighted estate. Bingley had, weakly, tried to point out that his friend had business he had to complete, but that did not reduce the level of his sister’s complaining.
One of the waiting footmen opened the door, extracted the step from its recess, and extended it, locking it into place. Bingley alighted, followed by Hurst. Then the latter handed out his wife while Bingley did the honours for his younger sister.
“This is nothing to Pemberley,” Miss Bingley asserted as soon as she gave the manor house a cursory glance.
“Unless we are speaking of Chatsworth, Blenheim, Snowhaven, or the like, very few houses are,” Bingley responded. He had seen Pemberley one term break when he and Darcy were at Cambridge, but the truth was his sister had never been at the estate, but you would never know that to hear her speak. Rather than point that out to Caroline, Bingley chose to keep the peace. The one time, some two years past, when he had said that, his sister had thrown a tantrum and blamed him for the fact she had not been to Pemberley.
Hearing the name of the estate Chatsworth reminded Caroline of the Duke of Devonshire’s granddaughters, who she had wanted to befriend but had never been able to meet. The only time she and her brother were admitted to events at that level of society was when Mr Darcy was in London. He onlyattended part of the full season, and the duke’s granddaughters seemed to prefer the Little Season. She supposed her dream of meeting and having the naïve granddaughters forward her in society was dead.
“Are you suremyMr Darcy approved of this estate?” Miss Bingley verified.
“Yes, Caroline, he approved. If you doubt my word, please make yourself free to ask him when he arrives on Thursday evening,” Bingley confirmed.
That had to be enough for Miss Bingley. The last thing she would do was ask Mr Darcy because, heaven forfend, he thought that she disagreed with him. She knew that the way to induce him to offer for her was to always agree with him and to be as attentive to him and his needs as possible. She was positive once he saw her in her role as the ideal hostess he would propose to her. Caroline was certain she would return to London—just like she had boasted to all her acquaintances—as Mr Darcy’s betrothed. After all, there could be no one to compete for his attention in this little backwater.
“I will not question Mr Darcy. I suppose I will need to take your word in this instance,” Miss Bingley sniffed.
Bingley led his family members up the stairs to where the butler and housekeeper awaited them before the wide-open front doors.
“Welcome to Netherfield Park, Mr Bingley,” Nichols intoned as he bowed, and his wife curtsied to those who had arrived. After the senior staff had been introduced to Miss Bingley and the Hursts, the butler noticed furniture being offloaded. “Mr Bingley, I am confused, where do you plan to place those pieces?” Nichols had to fight hard to school his features based on the distasteful, gaudy furniture he could see.
“I plan to make sure the drawing rooms are fashionable,” Miss Bingley sneered. She was not happy the servant was questioning her brother. Which meant he was doing so to her.
“As much as it pains me to tell you, you may not remove any of the existing items, or change the décor in any way,” Nichols stated with another bow.
Seeing his sister was about to interrupt, Bingley decided to speak instead. “As my sister is the mistress here, why did you say what you did regarding her ability to make changes to the rooms?” Bingley demanded.
“It is in your lease, Sir,” Nichols replied respectfully.
“Then we will ignore it!” Miss Bingley hissed. “I will design the most impressive drawing rooms before our special guest arrives on Thursday!”
“That will be grounds for Mr Phillips to evict you, Mr Bingley,” Nichols intoned.
“I never saw that in the lease,” Bingley claimed. When the butler asked if he had read all clauses before signing the contracts, Bingley could not reply he had and still tell the truth. As much as he hated what would come next, he would have to tell Caroline she was not allowed to redecorate the house. “Mrs Nichols will you please show my sister to the mistress’s suite and my other sister and her husband to their suite?” The housekeeper curtsied and led the others into the house. As soon as they were alone, Bingley turned back to the butler. “Not even the bedchambers?” he asked plaintively. The butler shook his head.
This was why Darce had admonished him to read every line of the lease, and to be fair, Mr Phillips begged him to read all before the lease was signed. Rather than being too keen, he should have waited for Darcy to come with him. It was too latenow; he was stuck for a year, and if he was evicted, according to the butler, the balance of his lease would be forfeit. Even one with his fortune could not afford to throw away so much money.
He instructed the men to reload all the furniture and return it to his house on Curzon Street. Only once the cart was no longer visible did Bingley turn back towards the house. He made for the study and dug out a copy of the lease. He readallof the clauses. There were almost a dozen for which they could be evicted with no refund of money already paid. He felt the failure of not doing this before all over again, and then put it out of his head. All would be well, and if not, Darce would fix things for him.
Feeling like a condemned man being led to the gallows, Bingley left the study and made his way up to Caroline’s bedchamber. He knocked, and her maid opened the door a crack.
“Tell my sister I need to speak to her,” Bingley told the abigail.
“I am changing,” Miss Bingley stated loudly. “Go wait for me in the sitting room between our suites.”
Thankful for the reprieve, no matter how short, and after pouring himself a two-finger snifter of brandy from one of the decanters on the sideboard, Bingley sat down in a wingback chair and quickly gulped down the amber liquor. He felt it burn its way down, but he was sure that was not as bad as his sister’s reaction would be.
