A/N:Hey guys, sorry it took we a while to update. I hope you like this chapter. And thanks so much for commenting. Oh and by chance does anyone have any idea how old Caroline Bingley is supposed to be, according to Jane Austen? I can't find anything about it so I just made her 23. Thanks.
Chapter 3: A Most Convenient Meeting
Caroline couldn't have been having a more miserable time at Netherfield. She missed town, she missed society, and more than anything she missed men's attention. But still a more pressing reason for leaving Netherfield, was that at every moment, she was constantly afraid that the boy David would show up at the door. If this should occur, Caroline didn't know what she would do. Her fist instinct would be to slam the door, and run and hide, but of course that might draw some attention. Not that anything she was doing was drawing any attention, excepting when she showed up at Netherfield after the wedding. Her brother and Jane were completely inseparable, and frankly disgusting. They were so engrossed in one another that if Caroline announced she was with child, and the father was a baboon, neither would notice.
Louisa was if anything worse. All she wished to talk about was Mr. Darcy and his new bride Elizabeth. And Caroline thought if she mentioned it again she would have to kill her. She suspected of course her sisters motives were to watch her reactions, and rub it in her face. Well she was doing a very good job. Mr. Hurst was as horrid as ever, and was constantly suggesting either cards or food. And all the maids were already accustomed to being terrified of Miss. Bingley and so said nothing to her, beyond necessity.
She felt, more or less, like she had right after the wedding. That she was useless, and that everyone either hated her, or were indifferent. She wished she had drowned herself, she really did, for her life was devoid of love. Love was Caroline's new obsession. Now that she had discovered it, she desired only that. She remembered when David had lovingly stroked her hair. Just like her mother had once had long ago. This was a sign of affection, of love, of fondness. Something that she had rarely ever experienced. So now that she had had a taste, she was addicted. She needed to feel it again, and again, and again.
At dinner that evening Caroline decided she would put in a request to leave. Dinner was excellent as always, roast duck and boiled potatoes, with all sorts of greens. However, Caroline had little appetite.
"I was about to take in some exercise in the park today, unfortunately it appears to have rained earlier this morning, and so I was unable to do so." Caroline began, as she cut into her beef. Her brother looked up at her, as if he was interested, and then turned and smiled lovingly at his wife. Louisa raised her thin eyebrows, and Mr. Hurst didn't even acknowledge her at all.
"Have you noticed Charles, how uncommonly often it rains here in Hertfordshire?" Caroline said a bit indignity, deciding to hurry on to the point. Charles looked up rather startled at having been addressed and asked her guiltily to repeat the question. She complied, and he thus answered,
"Oh, well, I can't say I have seen a significant difference between the rain here and the rain in town." Caroline frowned at his reply.
"I see what you mean, sister. It is a most dreary place, Hertfordshire." Louisa said touching Caroline's hand affectionately. Caroline was pleased at having someone else in agreement.
"Well it is May, and generally the rains come more often in the spring, by summer I'm sure it will lessen." Jane said smiling at Caroline.
"Yes, give it a month or two, Caroline, and the weather is sure to improve." Charles said, taking his wife's hand a squeezing it lightly. Caroline shifted herself in her seat, well she would get no where with them. Charles would obviously take up for Hertfordshire and Jane on everything, she needed Mr. Hurst's opinion and allegiance to win this matter.
"Mr. Hurst? Do you not find the country a bit tiresome?" Caroline said, looking at him with long eyelashes over her wine glass.
"To be sure." He said entranced by her gaze. Caroline grinned and looked back at her brother.
"Brother, I simply don't think we can stand to be isolated anymore." Caroline said decidedly. Charles laughed good naturedly.
"But Caroline, you have only just returned for the wedding, you have been here only a fortnight, surely you are not already bored of it." Charles said reasonably holding Jane's hand on the table. Desperate, Caroline racked her brain.
"Charles, you may stay here and fizzle out your existence in town, but we are not all to suffer from your stubbornness. So, if the Hurst's agree, I think we shall depart on the morrow." Pleased with her speech she turned back to her meal. Relief suddenly feeling her. Then to her greatest annoyance Charles only chuckled again.
"Well, that would all be well and good Caroline, but I'm afraid its quite impossible." Setting down her fork and knife with a clang, she gave her brother her full attention.
"And why ever is that?" She asked exceedingly irritated.
"Because, dear sister, the coachman is ill, and has been since he brought you here. He is in no condition to travel." Caroline was non-pulsed.
"You mean to tell me, that an entire family is to be confined because a coachman is incapacitated. A servant?" Caroline was pleased to see that Louisa too, looked angered by this news. Charles however was exasperated.
"Sister, you know I would not keep you anywhere against your will. But it is only for a short while longer, and you must have some compassion for poor Mr. Thomas, it is not his fault he is ill. What would you have me do?"
"I would have you find a new driver!" Caroline demanded. "I will not stay in the country a moment longer, surely this Mr. Thomas can be replaced." Charles stared, obviously not knowing what to say. At seeing his hesitation Jane spoke up in his steed.
"Goodness Caroline, what on Earth has caused your sudden displeasure with the country?" But at hearing the former Jane Bennet's words, Caroline could handle no more. And she found herself raising her voice louder than decorum would normally allow.
"I will not stay here, in this place where your family resides! I will not spend my days in a place where I am despised by all! I don't care what you do Charles, but get me out of confounded Hertfordshire!" And with that Miss. Bingley fled the room before they could see her tears.
David's Pov:
It was a very long day for David Everhart. Who had spent all day at the local tavern seeking a lift to London. Currently he was sitting slumped at one of the tables in the back of the Crow's Crown twirling some of his coins on the table. He had had no luck, no one was on their way to town, or if they were they had no room for him to tag along.
Heaving a deep sigh he decided he should rent a room here for the night and try again tomorrow. Before he could stand a very pretty blonde dimpled girl sat down across from him. She was the bartenders daughter, and a barmaid herself, David new, but why she had sat with him he hadn't an idea.
"Is that how your going to be employing your money then, young one?" She asked slyly, twisting a loose blond strand in her fingers. "Twirling it about on the table? Cause I can think of a way it might be better used." She had a think cockney accent, and she seemed to be chewing some tobacco. David wasn't sure why but he felt bad for her, she couldn't have been over 19. So he simply lifted one of his half-crown's that his father had handed him that morning over to her. Her brown eyes grew wide for a moment, and then she gave him a sly look.
"Oh no that won't do, I'll need a whole crown if you want me all night." David rolled his eyes.
"I don't want you at all, I just want you to take the money and use it wisely." He said hoping she would, and then leave him alone. But to his astonishment the girl looked angry by his words.
"Who do you think you are? King Solomon? I don't take no charity money. I either take it for a job, or not at all. So if that's the way you feel, then you can just keep your half-crown and mind your own business." David thought this was odd, seeing that she was the one who had sought out him. But not wishing to further engage her in conversation he merely shrugged and put his money in his pocket. But the girl didn't budge.
"What are you doing here then, if you aren't drinking or staying the night?" She asked suspiciously.
"I was trying to find a ride to London, but no one seems to be traversing that way." David looked around the tavern again, for the door opened again, but there were people in the way so he couldn't see who it was. The blond barmaid looked as well but then returned her attention to David.
"London, eh? Why you be wanting to go there? Got you a girl?" The last part she said rather snidely.
"No, I want to be a writer, or an actor, and London seems the obvious place to go for such an ambition." It was clear that the barmaid didn't understand him, so after a moments pause she said.
"Do you always talk so uppity?"
"Well words are my gift, and about the only think I really enjoy, but to answer your question, no I do not." David said very tired of her questions. The girl was about to say something else when they were interrupted.
"Mr. Everhart?" David was startled. That voice sounded so familiar. Turning in his seat he saw flaming red hair, and sparkling blue eyes. It was Caroline Bingley's brother Mr. Bingley himself. David had seen him before of course at the ball, but never had he studied him so intensely until now. He looked a great deal like his sister, only there was something different in his face. His eyes seemed less learned and more innocent, and his general disposition more friendly and less guarded. The man was even now smiling pleasantly at him, he stuck out his hand to shake. David stood and gave him his own hand, his shock apparent on his face.
Mr. Bingley." David said wondering what brought him here, and why he spoken to him, or even how he knew his name. A sudden delicious image of Caroline demanding her brother to find her love and bring him to her at once filled his imagination, but he passed it off and wistful thinking.
Mr. Bingley smiled at being recognized and then turned to the barmaid still sitting at the table.
"Oh I'm sorry I don't think we've been introduced." Bingley said to her politely, obviously thinking her a member of his party. She smiled happily and in a sort of awe at the gentlemen, pleased at his assumption and attention.
"Oh of course, sir, me name is Daisy, Daisy Everhart."
