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“Very good, sir,” said Cross. “As for the furniture, would you like it replaced or perhaps we might have the wood stripped and polished, perhaps in a lighter tone? I do not believe the heavy walnut would suit the young lady’s taste as you have described it.”

Mr. Bingley’s expression softened from the jubilant smile to one of consideration as he attempted to remember the design of the furniture in his mother’s chambers. The heaviness of the whole room overwhelmed any particular piece of furniture. He could visit the room, but he knew that would result in his automatically wishing to have everything redone. “Cross, have a footman bring one of the bedside tables for my inspection.”

Cross nodded and went to the door. One of the footmen was waiting outside, anticipating just such a need. He was immediately dispatched on his mission, returning a few minutes later with another servant, carrying a table that looked very much like Mr. Bingley had imagined. It was understandable that the footman had required a second man to assist him in moving the thing, for although the two drawers were empty, it was constructed of solid, unyielding walnut and adorned with heavy brass ring handles and clawed feet that looked as if they might get up and walk out of the room.

“Is all the furniture in this style?” Mr. Bingley asked.

“Indeed, sir. It was bought as a set when your mother wed your father,” Mr. Cross answered.

“Then I believe it would require a small miracle to redo the furniture in a style that would befit a modern bride. No, we must order something much lighter both in style and colour. Perhaps made of ash or sycamore.”

“Very good, sir.”

“If any of the servants wish the pieces for their quarters, let them have their pick of the lot. They are sturdy enough, God knows, to withstand many more years of use. If any remain, send them to the auction house.”

Mr. Cross nodded in understanding.

“Mrs. Stannard, Miss Bennet shares her maid with her sisters.” Although Mr. Bingley was not entirely certain of this, he would have expected a personal maid to have remained with Miss Bennet while she was ill at Netherfield. He thus expected she would not be able to bring her maid with her into the marriage. “Thus, I wish for you to determine who among the maids might be suitable to act as a lady’s maid.”

Mrs. Stannard murmured her agreement.

“One more thing. Mr. Hewitt will be here tomorrow morning. He and I shall be sequestered away in my study for most of the day. Send in a servant every hour, so that we might have refreshment, but otherwise we are not to be bothered unless something significant requiring my attention arises.”

When the servants left their master’s study, they could not have imagined that anything might need to be addressed by the master, but in that, they were incorrect.

The next day, Mr. Bingley had not been sequestered away for more than two hours when a hired carriage pulled up on the street before the house. As the master was not at home to visitors and the house was in a state of some disarray as Mrs. Stannard directed servants in removing the outdated décor from the mistress’s chambers, the arrival went, at first, unnoticed, until the sound of the knocker alerted them.

One of the footmen put down the vase he had been carrying and answered the door. He did not know who he had been expecting, perhaps one of the clerks from Mr. Hewitt’s office, but he had certainly not been expecting the Hursts and Miss Bingley to be standing before him.

“Gerald, our bags are yet in the coach. Pray, fetch them,” Miss Bingley said to the footman, handing her coat to Mrs. Stannard, who had appeared in the hall a moment before. “Mrs. Stannard, we will require luncheon as soon as can be managed. Where is my brother?”

“Your brother is in his study with his solicitor, miss. He desired not to be disturbed.”

“Show me to him.” Miss Bingley’s tone was firm, yet Mrs. Stannard hesitated in obeying. Then, supposing that the arrival of his relatives did qualify as something requiring the master’s attention, she did as she was asked.

She led Miss Bingley the short distance to the study, where the voices of Mr. Bingley and his solicitor could be heard. Mrs. Stannard knocked once, and, upon receiving the expected summons, opened the door.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley have arrived. Miss Bingley requested to see you.”

For a moment, Mr. Bingley’s countenance was blank with astonishment. “Thank you, Mrs. Stannard, show her in,” he managed. Immediately upon seeing his sister, his expression transformed to one of annoyance. “Caroline, what do you do here? I distinctly remember telling you that I would be returning in less than a week’s time. I hope there has not been some emergency that required you to travel all this way.”

“Of course there has not, Charles,” Miss Bingley answered, taking a seat across from her brother.

“Mr. Bingley,” said Mr. Hewitt, who was still standing after the lady’s entrance. “I will go and have those papers drawn up for you. I can return in a few hours, if you wish.”

“Yes, pray, do that, Mr. Hewitt. Return around three o’clock, if you would.”

Mr. Hewitt, eager to avoid whatever familial drama was about to play out, gathered up the papers he needed, bowed to the Bingleys, and swiftly departed the house.

“Now, what is the reason for your coming to London, Caroline?” Mr. Bingley asked again.

“Surely, Charles, you cannot wonder at my presence,” his sister answered. “I must consider what is best for our family and confer with you before you act hastily in a way you are destined to regret once you regain your reason.”

“What can you mean?” Though he said the words, Mr. Bingley was nearly certain he now knew what had brought her to London. He had suspected that she might try to separate him from Miss Bennet, and had therefore taken some precautions, such as requiring Mrs. Nicholls to read any letter sent to Longbourn before allowing delivery.

“You act as if you do not know? Look at the papers before you!”

“The documents for the sale of the mill?” Mr. Bingley asked. “I thought you wished to no longer be tied to trade? If you do not think I ought to sell it, I have not yet signed them.”