Darcy watched her without moving. “I do not condemn your concern.”
Encouraged, she continued more softly. “But you must see how unsuitable it would be – that family, their manners, their connections. Charles would regret it in time, and we who care for him would be blamed for doing nothing.” The handkerchief remained at her eyes.
Darcy’s expression did not change. “Your concern for your brother does you credit,” he said.
Caroline lowered the handkerchief slightly, hopeful.
“But it does not give you the authority to dismiss his household, dismiss his servants, and alter his plans without his knowledge.”
The hope vanished. Her voice hardened again. “You cannot seriously expect me to remain here while he throws himself away.”
Darcy’s reply was immediate. “You are perfectly free to go to London.”
Caroline stared. “And leave you here?”
“If you wish.”
She stared. “You would stay?”
“Yes.”
“For what possible purpose?”
“To wait for Charles.”
The words settled with quiet finality. Caroline’s hand tightened around the handkerchief. “You mean to oppose us.”
“I mean,” Darcy said calmly, “that this ishishouse.”
Silence followed. At last, he added, with composed indifference, “If you prefer London, Miss Bingley, you and Mrs. Hurst may certainly travel tomorrow. Mrs. Nichols will arrange the carriage.”
Caroline looked at him as though he had spoken a foreign language. “And you?”
“I shall remain here until my friend returns.” Darcy inclined his head slightly. “I imagine he will wish to hear how his household has been managed in his absence.”
With that, he turned toward the door.
Behind him, Caroline remained standing beside the writing desk, her carefully composed plans unravelling far more quickly than she had expected.
It was one of those arrangements which, being perfectly formed in intention, refused entirely to succeed in practice.
***
The message arrived shortly after dinner.
It was brought by a groom from London, the seal immediately recognised as Mr. Bingley’s hand. Darcy happened to be in the library when the servant delivered it. Darcy broke the seal.
The letter itself was brief and written in Bingley’s easy, hurried hand. The business which had called him to town, it appeared, was proving less easily concluded than expected. The gentleman with whom he must settle certain particulars and related financial arrangements had unexpectedly delayed the matter.
Bingley, therefore, feared he would not be able to return before the following Wednesday.
Darcy read the line twice. A full week.
The letter continued in the same cheerful tone, apologising for the inconvenience to the household and trusting that Netherfield would not collapse in his absence. At the end, almost as an afterthought, Bingley added a request.
Darcy, if he had the opportunity, was to inform Miss Bennet that his stay in London had been unavoidably extended.
Darcy folded the letter slowly.
