“She left this mornin’, and if ya are askin’ did she pay for her food, the answer is no!”
“And she has not returned?”
“No; now either pay what ya owe me or leave!”
Mr. Wickham, having no inclination whatsoever to pay for Lydia’s food, turned and walked away. If he hurried, he could get to Mrs. Younge’s boarding house in time for supper. One thing was certain; he was never going back to the militia.
Chapter Ten
The journey from Pemberley to Netherfield was not a pleasant one for Charles Bingley. His two sisters complained endlessly, both unhappy at the prospect of returning to the dull place that was Meryton; they would far rather have stayed at Pemberley. In vain did Mr. Bingley ask them to reconcile themselves to the change of plans; in vain did he ask them to support his choice of wife. By the end of the journey, the travelers had all fallen into a sullen silence and spent the final hours staring out the windows.
Mr. Bingley had sent a message on ahead to Mrs. Nichols, the housekeeper at Netherfield, so the house was ready for their arrival – dust covers removed, flowers in vases, kitchen cupboards stocked. Their personal servants had been sent on ahead, of course, and the trunks would doubtless be unpacked by the time they arrived.
Caroline and Louisa swept into the house without so much as a word to anyone. Mr. Hurst rolled his eyes at Charles, his one show of support for Mr. Bingley in all these days, and then headed into the house.
The Netherfield butler, Mr. Taggart, bowed to Mr. Bingley. “The staff is delighted at your return, Mr. Bingley.” If there was a hint of reproach in his voice, it was sufficiently well-masked to make it impossible to comment upon.
“I am delighted to be here, Taggart,” Mr. Bingley replied. “I do not mind telling you that it was a mistake to leave in the first place.”
The butler smiled, but said nothing.
An hour later, the party gathered in the drawing room. “I trust everything is to your satisfaction?” Mr. Bingley asked. “Rooms well-prepared, unpacking complete? Yes? Excellent. I shall go to Longbourn. Expect me back in an hour. No, no, Caroline, there is certainly no need for you to lower yourself to accompany me, so you may as well take that sour look off your face.” A horse was saddled for him; he swung up into the saddle and galloped away.
“I hope he is not planning to do anything too foolish,” Caroline snapped as she and the Hursts watched him ride off.
Mr. Hurst said, “He has already told you that he plans to offer for Jane Bennet, Caroline; you may as well accept it.”
Caroline stared in displeasure at her brother-in-law; he rarely expressed an opinion and when he did, it was just as rarely to Caroline’s liking.
***
“Jane! Jane!” Mary’s urgent voice echoed down the hallway.
A door opened. “What is it, Mary?”
“He is here, Jane!”
“He? He who?”
“Mr. Bingley!”
A blond head poked out into the hallway. “Mary, are you quite certain?”
“Think you I do not know what Mr. Bingley looks like? He is handing his reins to the stableboy this moment!”
With a gasp, Jane ran back into her room. “Lizzy, help me!” Jane was wearing black, of course, as were all the girls, but she hoped something could at least be done with her hair.
Elizabeth wove a black ribbon, edged with the merest hint of gold, around her sister’s curls. “That looks nice, Jane; and it is the best I can do in three minutes of time.”
“But what is he doing here? I do not understand!” Jane cried, twisting around to look at Elizabeth.
“I know of only one way to find out.”
Kitty and Mary were already in the drawing room, sitting across from Mr. Bingley, as Elizabeth and Jane entered the room, hand in hand.
Greetings were exchanged, enquiries after health were made, and finally Mr. Bingley said, “Ladies, I was present when Miss Elizabeth received the letter about Miss Lydia, so I am aware of that circumstance, though I have not shared that knowledge with any member of my family and have no plans to do so. But – is that why you are all in black? I am not certain I understand; has more news been received about her?” His confusion was evident.
It was only then that Elizabeth recalled that the third letter, the one containing the news of her mother’s death, had arrivedafterMr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley had left the inn! Neither gentleman had any idea of the second tragedy that had befallen the family. Haltingly, she explained it. “Just after you left the inn, Mr. Bingley, I received another message telling me that our mother had died.”
