Darcy and Bingley managed to get back into Netherfield without encountering Miss Bingley. Truth be told, they had the carriage approach from the service road, then snuck in the side door they had used to leave that morning.

They took the backstairs up and encountered Mrs. Nicholls just outside Darcy's sitting room. He motioned for her to join them as the two men slipped inside.

"I was hoping to speak with you sir," she began. "I received a note from Mrs. Hill at Longbourn that you would be leasing the dower house and would need a small staff."

"That is true," he said. "I would like to move in quickly. As early as tomorrow if staff can be found."

"Between us Mrs. Hill and I have found two maids and a footman who could start as early as tomorrow. I also know of a local widow, Mrs. Evans, who would serve well in a combined capacity as cook and housekeeper for a house that size. I wanted to confirm with you before I sent over a note. She currently alternates staying with her two married daughters and would likely be able to start right away."

"Please ask her if she is available. I will pay a fair wage. The footman who accompanied my carriage here will also be able to work in the house. My groom and coachman can manage the horses."

"You should be well set then, sir. Do you require anything else of me?"

"We will need food and other supplies for the house. I am sure you have a good idea of what is required. If you will place the necessary orders and have the items delivered I will pay for them right away."

"Very good, sir," she nodded to him, then turned to Bingley. "Mr. Bingley, dinner will be ready in about forty-five minutes according to your sister's instructions."

"Thank you," he said, "we will be there."

She curtsied and left.

"Now, Bingley," said Darcy, heading to the small writing desk in a corner of the room, "we need to write up an outline, the talking points for a discussion with your sister. It will be just like giving a presentation when we were at the university."

"Why does that not comfort me?"

"We haven't much time before we have to change for dinner. Let's get to it, man."

Forty-five minutes later the two gentlemen descended the main stairs and moved in the direction of the dining room. Both flinched slightly at Miss Bingley's sharp-toned greeting.

"Mr. Darcy! Charles! Wherever have been? I have worried so. How could you leave without any notice?"

She advanced on Darcy but he sidestepped her before she could clutch his arm.

"I understand dinner is ready," he said. "Shall we go in." He immediately moved to do just that.

She tried to catch up with him, sputtering, "But…but..where have you been?"

"We have been out," he said simply, moving to a seat well away from Miss Bingley's place.

"Caroline," said Bingley, "I do need to speak with you, but I think we should eat dinner first."

"I don't understand Charles, unless you mean to give up this house and return to London where everything is much more civilized." She hesitated between taking her seat or moving to the place next to Darcy. Mr. Hurst sat down in the spot she was considering, which made the decision for her.

"I will not be giving up this house," Bingley said as he sat. "It is a good opportunity for me and I would be a fool to let it go so soon."

Darcy could almost see Miss Bingley telling her brother he was a fool anyway, but somehow she managed not to respond.

"I agree with Bingley," he said, "it is a good house and a good neighborhood. He can learn a great deal here."

"Oh, but it is just so savage. These people are so low and crass. And that assembly was simply insupportable!"

"That is enough, Caroline!" said Bingley with a firmness that surprised even himself. "I had planned to wait until after dinner to address this, but if you are going to continue to complain through the meal I won't have much appetite for it anyway."

"I just don't know why you brought us here in the first place!" she huffed in displeasure.

"Enough, I said. You will cease complaining NOW!"

"But…"

Using Darcy's gesture from that morning Bingley shook his head and raised a hand to stop her protest. Amazingly, it worked.

"You are making yourself ridiculous with this constant need to belittle everything around you. Your stream of criticisms and other poor behavior gave my new neighbors a very bad impression of our family last evening and I mean for it to stop. You are not above the company we keep and you will cease acting as if we were."

Darcy gave him an approving nod. As they had discussed, his tone was even but forceful.

"But we ARE better than this pack of vulgar mushrooms!" she wailed.

"Caroline! We are the children of a tradesmen, not peers of the realm. Our neighbors are established landed gentry and we are NOT! Nearly every person in that assembly hall last night was of higher social status than you or I."

Miss Bingley's mouth had dropped open and she gaped at her brother.

"Furthermore," Bingley continued, "even if we had been of equal or greater status, there was no excuse for the rudeness you and Louisa displayed in barely acknowledging the introductions, refusing to speak with the other attendees and loudly gossiping about them in their presence. You may feel any way you wish about these people, but you will no longer be rude to them."

"You can't really be serious, Charles," said Mrs. Hurst, who was apparently not as shocked as Miss Bingley.

"I am completely serious," he responded. "Furthermore, you will cease hounding my friend, Darcy. Your blatant attempts to force him into marriage have already driven him to decide to leave this house. I do not want your behavior to endanger our friendship."

This last broke the shock that had held Miss Bingley quiet.

"But Mr. Darcy MUST marry me! I am the perfect mistress of Pemberley and I WILL marry him!"

"No, Miss Bingley," Darcy said in a tone that made ice look hot, "you WILL NOT!"

"But I am your perfect match!"

"Hardly. I have no desire for a wife who thinks vicious gossip is appropriate conversation, nor for one who cannot manage to be on time for any appointment. I despise the way you clutch at me without invitation and I am allergic to your vile perfume. Your manners are so offensive to me that I have chosen to lease a small house nearby so that I can still assist your brother without being exposed to more than is necessary of your company. I have done everything I could to discourage your pursuit of me and there is no way I will ever marry you."

She stared at him in wide-eyed horror. Darcy knew he had been harsh, but nothing else seemed to have gotten through to her. He rose.

"I apologize, Bingley, but I think I must take a tray up and have dinner in my sitting room. I know you have much to discuss with your sister and I think my presence will cause more problems. You know what needs to be said." With that, he quit the room.

Darcy asked a servant to send up a small tray and retired to his rooms. Dinner was tasty and when he had finished he sat in an armchair by the fire with a glass of port and a favorite book from the supply he had brought.

Suddenly, the door to Darcy's sitting room flew open and slammed into the wall with a crash. Miss Bingley rushed in with fury written on her face in the scowl that wrinkled her brow and the near glow of her green eyes. Her disheveled red-gold hair almost seemed afire in the softly lit room.

Darcy rose from the armchair in alarm but before he could react further Miss Bingley hurled a large bottle at his chest. The delicate glass shattered on impact, drenching him with liquid and the sharp shards. A second, smaller, bottle followed the first – this one landing in the fireplace behind him. Whether that was by accident or design Darcy had no clue. It exploded in a small fireball that fortunately did not spill out into the room although the same could not be said of the cloud of pungent smoke which billowed forth.

Without a word, Miss Bingley turned on her heel and stormed back out, leaving Darcy coughing and sputtering from the fumes of the perfume in which he was covered.