“May I remind you, the dowry that you always crow about was earned from trade. You are, in fact, the daughter of a tradesman, just as I am the son of one,” Bingley stated forthrightly. “What happened to the sweet girl I knew? It disgusts me that you take pleasure in someone else’s misfortune. I no longer want you around me; you will be on your way to Aunt Hildebrand on the morrow.”
“You cannot do that to me!” Miss Bingley screeched.
“I can and I will! I am the head of this family,” Bingley stated, brooking no opposition. “Your only other choice is that I release your dowry to you and you set up your own establishment. If you choose that option, you will not receive one penny of financial assistance from me.”
She knew having her own establishment would brand her as a spinster on the shelf. “I will go to our aunt,” Miss Bingley responded sullenly.
“Good choice. Now go and pack,” Bingley ordered. ‘I need to write to Darcy. He seemed upset when he believed Miss Elizabeth was betrothed to that horrendous man. I think he will appreciate this news,’ Bingley surmised to himself as he pulled a piece of parchment from the pile and dipped his quill in the inkwell sending drops of ink all over the paper.
Chapter 15
Darcy arrived at Pemberley where he hoped to recover quickly—but this time proved different. Because of his misplaced pride, he had lost the only woman he had ever loved and, in his opinion would ever love, to his aunt’s sycophant of a parson.
The thought of that man touchinghisElizabeth on their wedding night almost made him cast up his accounts. When the ridiculous man introduced himself at the ball, Darcy had noticed the way the man leered at Miss Elizabeth. He wanted to drag Collins out of the ballroom and thrash him when he saw him trying to look down the front of her dress while flubbing the dance steps in the worst way.
He knew he had no one to blame but himself. It had started with the false words he had flung at her at the assembly. Then rather than apologise, he used the excuse he did not want to excite expectations he would never be able to fulfil when in truth it was his damned pride that prevented him from begging her pardon.
What hubris it had been to think she had expectations of him! Until the night of the Netherfield Ball, Darcy felt she hated him, or at the very least, disliked him intensely. He knew not the cause, but for some reason by the time they danced their set she had softened towards him considerably. He was grateful for the change.
When he had requested the set, he could see her warring with herself, trying to decide whether to refuse his entreaty and sit out or dance with him. In the end she seemed to choose the dance as the lesser of two evils.
The only thing he noted after he requested the dance with Miss Elizabeth was an intense conversation between her and Miss Lucas. It seemed he owed that lady a debt of gratitude, as it was after their conversation that Miss Elizabeth seemed to tolerate his presence without the intense dislike he had detected prior to their dance.
When the vile Miss Bingley told him of his love’s imminent betrothal with such gusto and glee, he almost jumped across the divide in the carriage and strangled her. Instead, he repeated his action from the journey into Hertfordshire by stopping the coach as soon as they cleared Meryton and swapping with Carstens, riding Zeus the rest of the way to London.
The way the harpy behaved and relished Miss Elizabeth’s perceived pain would have caused Darcy to cut her from his life if he had not already decided to do so. He remembered his conversation with Bingley and was thankful for his friend’s support.
Bingley had responded to the note from his friend and met him at White’s, where the two took a private sitting room. Darcy had not wanted to take the chance Miss Bingley would insert herself if they had met at his own or Bingley’s houses.
“You look sombre, Darce,” Bingley said after one of the footmen delivered their snifters of brandy.
“I have reached a decision. It has been a long time coming, but I will no longer allow your sister, Caroline, entry to any of my homes, nor will I stand idly by if she tries to use my name to gain invitations to events in Town,” Darcy stated.
“What did she do on the trip back to Town? Or was it one more thing at Netherfield before your departure?” Bingley had asked.
“My friend, I believe your sister may be delusional. It seems she heard not one word you or I said to her at the estate. That led me to my decision even before her last statements to me about Miss Elizabeth in the coach. I came close to refusing to convey her back to London, but I had given you my word, so my honour was engaged,” Darcy explained. He told Bingley what his sister had told him about Miss Elizabeth and the pleasure she had taken from her perception of another’s suffering.
“She will not be in my party when I visit one of your homes; you have my word of honour, Darce. I will be giving her a choice soon—Scarborough with our spinster aunt or an establishment of her own, but either way, I will not have her living with me much longer,” Bingley had reported.
Darcy had received a note from his butler at Darcy House. The harridan had tried to gain entry the day after he departed for Pemberley. He immediately sent a note back, instructing his butler to inform all servants at his London house that Miss Bingley was not welcome at his house again unless he sent written permission beforehand.
He was very happy his friend Bingley had stepped out of his sister’s shadow. She used to be able to manipulate him, but in the last year that had changed as Bingley came into his own and no longer allowed anyone to take advantage of him.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Jane Bennet was no more. In her place was Mrs. Jane Collins. No one other than her sisters and parents had attended her wedding. Neither bride nor groom had anyone to stand up with them or attend them. After the register was signed, there was a small meal at Longbourn.
Collins had not been informed his wife was no longer a maiden. Given his lack of intelligence, Fanny and Jane devised a scheme to fool the man. A pig had been slaughtered that morning and a little blood was collected in a jar. Jane would pour a little on the sheets after her husband returned to his own bedchamber.
The night before, Fanny did not bother to give Jane her version of the pre-wedding talk. As Jane was no longer a maiden and had experienced the pleasures of the flesh, she felt the talk would have been superfluous.
“Come, my dove,” Collins told his wife, “we must away. I informed Lady Catherine we would arrive at the parsonage today and I do not wish to have given her incorrect information.”
Jane cringed at her husband’s annoying voice; Lord, how bad it sounded! Mr. Collins was her husband now until death parted them. He called her a term of endearment that she hated. Jane nodded and made her way up to her childhood bedchamber to change into travel attire.
When she entered, she felt overwhelming sadness. Until she had Elizabeth moved out of this chamber, she had a sister who loved her, but Jane had allowed petty jealousy to eat at her.
In the end, what had all of her mother’s words about her beauty brought her? Nothing! When it counted most, her mother abandoned her. She could have disagreed with her father and then she would not have been forced to marry the imbecile who was now her husband.
