As soon as the general hubbub died down, and all the womenfolk, especially his mother, and then his father and uncle had their time with Fitzwilliam, he was surrounded by his brother, William, and Bingley.
There was much backslapping and a few jokes about the parson’s mousetrap, but nothing ribald in the mixed company.
Chapter 29
Wednesday, two days after the engagement, the notice appeared in the London papers.
Ladies who had imagined themselves as Mrs Fitzwilliam, the mistress of Rosings Park, spewed their vitriol in private as no one wanted to be banished from London society for denigrating one of the Queen’s darlings, not to mention the vast and powerful connections the Carringtons had.
Men who had fancied they had a chance to woo Lady Jane Carrington-Bennet realised that the only encouragement she had given them was in their own imaginations. They would have to wait for the next sister, Lady Elizabeth, who would come out during the season of 1809. And failing that, a year later, Lady Mary would join society.
The reactions of those disappointed in society, be they male or female, were nothing compared to Miss Caroline Bingley on Saturday when Wednesday’s London papers reached her uncle’s house in Scarborough.
After breaking her fast at the unfashionable hour her aunt and uncle insisted on eating, Caroline was seated in a small parlour away from the rest of the family. She secluded herself in that room so that the stench of trade would not stick to her.
As was his wont, after John Bingley had perused the broadsheets, he had a manservant place them on a table in the parlour his niece used. Unlike his niece, John Bingley did not pay attention to the social pages in the newspaper. Due to that fact, he did not see the announcement of the engagement of Lady Jane Carrington-Bennet to Mr Richard Fitzwilliam.
Said notice was on the first page of the social pages, and Miss Bingley did not miss it. “Noooooo,” she screamed. “He is mine, how dare that foundling steal the man I was to marry?”
The scream brought her aunt and uncle into the parlour.
“For one who claims to be a sophisticated lady, you sound far more like a fishmonger’s wife hawking her wares in the market,” Aunt Hildebrand stated sternly. “We leave you alone in here, but we will not tolerate you disturbing our household with your delusions. About what were you screeching?”
Miss Bingley thrust the page of the paper at her aunt. “How dare that chit do this to me!”
Hildebrand and John Bingley read the news item which had set off their unbalanced niece. “John, I think it is time to write to Charles and have him come here,” Hildebrand stated.
“I agree, I will go write to him now,” John Bingley stated.
“Good! It is about time my brother came and collected me. I need to put this foundling chit in her place and claim the man who I will marry,” Miss Bingley insisted.
“If you leave here, it will be for Bedlam!” Hildebrand hissed. “What kind of insanity do you have to keep repeating untruths about an earl’s daughters? Her Majesty herself recognised them! They are no more foundlings than you are. If Charles took you to London, which he will not, and you said anything like you have here, you would be permanently ruined in society.
“I am no slave to the society pages, but even I know that the sisters you constantly denigrate have connections the like you could not even dream of having, from peers, including dukes and duchesses right up to the Queen. And you, the daughter of a tradesman, think you would be able to order any of them to do anything? You crow about your dowry, whichused to betwenty thousand pounds. Have you ignored the speculation that the Earl of Holder’s daughterseachhave double that? If that is the rumour, the truth is more than likely more.
“If you hold on to this insane delusion of yours, Charles will have you committed to Bedlam. Is this fantasy world you live in worth that? You know as well as I do that both of the men who you claim would be your husband, refused to allow you to be introduced to them. Does that sound like one who will choose you as his wife? Charles told us that even if you attempted a compromise, none of the men in question would marry you. All you would do is ruin yourself.
“So, tell me, Caroline, why on earth would the man who is engaged to Lady Jane look at you as more than some dirt to scrape off his shoe?” Hildebrand saw something in her niece’s countenance she had not seen before, uncertainty. It was time to deliver thecoup de grâce. “Think clearly, Caroline, not of what you want but of reality. Now tell me if anything you told yourself was real?”
Caroline Bingley was reeling. Her aunt’s words had begun to demolish the carefully crafted tale she had told herself as a little girl the first time she had read about London’s high society. Regardless of what her family told her, she had desired to be part of that world. When it did not happen, and her parents refused anything she asked of them to try raising their family out of trade, she eventually created the world where she had, or would soon have, everything she desired. She admitted to herself that she had purposely filtered out anything which did not fit into the way she wanted them to be. Her aunt’s final question rang in her ears. No, none of what she told herself was fact!
It was common knowledge that the Carrington-Bennet sisters were not foundlings. There had been extensive reporting about the truth of their situation and the truth of their birth. As it did not fit what she wanted to believe, she had ignored those facts because in her mind it allowed her to remain superior to them.
Now the realisation buffeted her. She was not above any of them; in fact, she was far below the very people she used to denigrate. Her aunt’s words had been harsh, but they had finally broken through, and Caroline had heard them. For the first time since she had been a little girl, she cried genuine tears.
Hildebrand inclined her head towards the door. After he handed her his handkerchief, her husband slipped out of the parlour, pulling the door closed behind him. She knew the words had been harsh in the extreme, but Hildebrand saw that she had, if not broken through, made cracks form in the wall Caroline had constructed around her ideas of self-worth. She made a decision and sat next to her crying niece and pulled her into a hug. She did not speak; she simply held Caroline while her niece sobbed. After a little while, Caroline’s arms wrapped themselves around Hildebrand’s shoulders.
Eventually the sobbing lessened and became sniffles. Hildebrand handed her husband’s handkerchief to her niece to dry her eyes and face.
“How can you be so nice to me when I have been so awful to all of you?” Caroline wondered. “Angela offered me her hand in friendship, and I batted it away. I have not been a pleasant or good person, have I?”
“You were terrible, and my daughter was hurt for a little while until she gave up after we told her you were the way you were, and it had nothing to do with her,” Hildebrand replied. “You are my niece, Caroline; your late father was my brother-in-law, and I would never abandon a family member, no matter how much you pushed us away.”
“Would you have truly had Charles send me to Bedlam?” Caroline asked meekly.
“As you were, and if you had not been able to come out of your delusions, then yes, there would have been no choice. When I decided to be as harsh as I was, I knew that it was the last chance to either bring you back to reality or send you deeper into your made-up world.”
“I was nasty to Mamma before she passed away and to my papa also. Louisa wants nothing to do with me, and Charles has washed his hands of me.” Caroline paused. “I cannot blame them,” she said sadly.
