Before parting from his friends he had promised to consider visiting Kent after looking at the estate situated in a shire which started with the letter H. He grinned thinking of their responses to his confusion of just where the estate lay. Richard, being a soldier immediately thought of losing his troops in foreign territory because he had forgotten to bring a map and didn't know where he was supposed to lead his men. Naturally, he was horrified. Clever Darcy had smiled and played along enjoying the joke. He knew one of Bingley's requirements was that the estate lay not too far from London and the various amusements that city offered. There was no doubt in Bingley's mind that if Darcy believed the shire started with an H, it was probably Hertfordshire. They had never looked at an estate in Herefordshire as that county lay on the border of Wales and was way too far from London.
The cousins were so far apart in temperament it was hard for their friends to understand their closeness. The same held for the friendship of Bingley and Darcy. No two men could be more far apart in the way they looked at the world. Darcy was more the tall silent type, never speaking unless he had something pertinent to say, something that would forward the discourse. Bingley simply babbled good-naturedly delighted to be with good company wherever he found it. Darcy looked at life with great seriousness always conscious of his name and place in society, always fearful of making a mistake which would bring disgrace upon his family. With Bingley, it never occurred to him that he might have to curb his tongue. He was perfectly affable and was incapable of giving offense which, he supposed, was the root of his problem with Caroline. She knew she could say and do anything without regard to how it would effect her brother. It never occurred to her that he could be hurt by her obvious disdain of him.
When his carriage pulled to a stop outside his townhouse Bingley's spirits dampened further. Now, all he had to do was relay his plans to his sister and he was terrified of her reaction. She had made it clear that she wanted him to accompany her to Shropshire ostensibly to visit with their Aunt, but also to meet a friend who had twenty-five thousand pounds. As far as Bingley was concerned, this lady who Caroline so newly admired, might have been as beautiful as a Grecian goddess, but if she was a friend of Caroline's, he would want nothing to do with her. He certainly would not want a wife who could be malleable to the machinations of his sister and he could no longer trust his sister not to have an ulterior motive. Naiveté and a sunny disposition had disposed him to think well of everyone and he could not believe that people had hidden agendas; that their motives could be selfish. Unfortunately, he had now reached the point when he could no longer trust anything Caroline said or did.
He wondered, dimly, if he had now become as cynical as Darcy. There were few people Darcy trusted outside his immediate family. Great wealth brought distrust in the motives of men and woman. Caroline was a perfect example. Darcy knew exactly what she was after and Bingley had seen Darcy's wariness grow in recent weeks. Bingley knew the time was nearing when he would have to make a fool out of Caroline and seek a public forum to do so. He no longer believed that Caroline would not be capable of forcing Darcy into marriage by setting some kind of a trap. He was immediately ashamed of this sinful thought but he had reached a point where he felt his sister capable of anything.
When Bingley stepped down from his coach, he delayed entering his house for a few moments while he gathered his wits. It was so clear in his memory the day he and Darcy walked through the rooms of this lovely home. He remembered with such clarity his friend's words. "This will be your sanctuary, Charles. When the world closes in on you, this will be your retreat. And one day you'll bring your bride here and God willing, you'll live happily ever after."
He felt tears sting his eyes at the memory of that day. How naive he'd been; how very young. Still wet behind the ears and barely into his first year at Cambridge he'd had so many hopes for the future. His home was now a place to dread coming home to... just exactly as Darcy had warned him this would come to pass unless he didn't take control and leave little doubt just who the master of his house was.. Now, his dearest friend had invited him down to Kent to spend some weeks with him and his cousin Richard Fitzwilliam, and he was terrified of telling Caroline.
A grown man, and he was terrified of his sister. How on earth had he come to this? Now at the age of five and twenty, he was learning a painful lesson that only he could solve and he would have much preferred to run away. Then, of course, there was the matter of an estate. He was having second thoughts about telling Caroline of his plan to see an estate with hopes of leasing it. She would insist on accompanying him and she would find nothing but fault. Knowing her, nothing would be acceptable unless it was within a stone's throw of Pemberley.
His inclination was to step back into the coach and head for Darcy's townhouse but that was no longer an option. It would be degrading to once again seek Darcy's guidance. His friend had shown nothing but kindness as well as forbearance for so many years but in recent months he sensed that Darcy had begun to withdraw his ready assistance and allow Bingley to work it out himself. After all, there was just so much guidance Darcy could offer. After that, Bingley either acted on it or continued to wallow in his own misery.
The front door opened and the butler appeared and hurried towards Bingley, "Sir," he said, "the mistress is waiting for you in the drawing room."
Bingley nodded, "tell her I'll join her in a moment."
The butler hesitated, "she seems rather anxious, Sir."
Bingley managed a smile, "you've delivered your message, Arthur."
Uneasily, he watched his butler return to the house and stood there for several more minutes wondering just how far he was willing to go with Caroline. He did not want a final break with his sister but knowing how volatile she'd become lately, he wasn't sure she understood how unhappy he'd become, or if she even cared. She had passed her twenty-seventh birthday during the Christmas holidays and now in the eyes of the ton, she had entered that mysterious realm of spinsterhood. Her anger and frustration and fear had become palpable. And all because Fitzwilliam Darcy had not fallen for her arts and allurements.
His concern for his sister's well-being had grown alarmingly in recent weeks. At times she appeared almost delusional when it came to Darcy. After every meeting with Darcy though it might have been nothing but a brief word after Sunday service, she seemed to find encouragement in her pursuit. If it hadn't been so pathetic, it would have been comical. It certainly was to his brother-in-law, Humphrey Hurst. He never missed a chance to have sport with Caroline and her 'wishful thinking'. This, of course, upset Louisa who tried to keep the peace between her husband and her sister Caroline.
The Hurst's townhouse had been undergoing some repairs for the the past few weeks and the Hursts had been staying with Bingley. Most of the time they were able to act as a buffer between Bingley and his sister. At other times, especially after Hurst had imbibed too much, they sometimes added fuel to the fire. Hurst despised Caroline and made no effort to disguise his feelings. He was a simple man whose aim in life was to eat , drink and be merry and once a week make love to his wife, Louisa. Caroline had a way of taking the fun out of these simple pleasures and he was always ready to take his revenge with his acerbic wit. When Bingley enlisted him to take care that Caroline was never left alone with Darcy he agreed with alacrity and a pleasure that was a bit unseemly.
When the butler once more appeared at the door Bingley straightened up and entered the house.
When he reached the drawing room it took only a brief glance to show that Caroline was in a fury. The Hursts were seated on a settee while Caroline paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. "Where have you been?" she screeched, not bothering to wait until the door had closed behind the butler.
"Having lunch with Darcy," he replied. "Then Richard showed up and we had a long chat. A most enjoyable afternoon. And I'm sorely in need of a nap, so if you'll excuse me..."
"Why didn't you send word that you would be dining out? I delayed lunch for almost an hour!"
Hurst snorted, "naughty boy."
Bingley poured a glass of wine and downed half of it before turning to face his sister. How had it come to this, he wondered? A tradesman's daughter who acted like a Duchess. When had she become to think so well of herself?
"Don't just stand there, Charles! Answer me!"
"Patience," Bingley heard himself say. "I'll answer you as soon as I decide what to say as I am truly at a loss to understand how you could address the owner of this house in such a fashion. And don't just stand there, sister! Answer me!" Bingley had allowed his voice to rise as he stared back at her. There was nothing like Dutch courage to make a man bold.
Absently, Bingley saw his sister Louisa clutch her husband's arm and lay her head on his shoulder. Humphrey Hurst gently patted her arm while never taking his eyes off his sister-in-law. Let the ton attend plays and musical comedies. He preferred to watch his sister-in-law explode. He grabbed the decanter of brandy on the table next to him, cradling it lovingly and out of harm's way.
Caroline's face had flushed an alarming red as she stared back at her brother. "How dare you speak to me in that tone of voice?"
"I might ask the same of you." Bingley replied, reverting to his normal placid tone.
"It's Richard," she spat. "Every time you spend time with that loathsome man you come back here in a crazy mood."
"Caroline, I'm really at a loss to understand what you have against the son of an Earl. His breeding is above reproach. He is Darcy's dearest cousin. He's handsome and intelligent and has a wicked sense of humor which normally would appeal to you. Why do you dislike him so? Surely you can't object to his breeding nor his looks. And I know you have little patience with stupidity. So that leaves only his sense of humor. Is that it, Sister? Do you hate him because he finds such amusement at your antics with regard to his cousin? You do go on about how beautiful Pemberley is. It's a wonder you haven't complimented Darcy on how well-behaved the insects are. You'll never have him, Caroline. He sees you for what you are. A shrewish, grasping female no different then any other schemer in London. Give it up!"
Caroline picked up a small vase and threw it forcefully at the fireplace where it shattered into hundreds of shards. "Get out of my sight," she screamed.
"You forget yourself, Sister. This is my home. You get out of my sight! I mean it, Caroline. I'm leaving London and I don't know when I'll be back but when I do, I want you out of this house."
Louisa finally found her voice, "oh, brother, don't do this."
"You have enough money," Bingley continued ignoring Louisa's plea, "to set up your own household and I would be happy to assist you, but I've made up my mind, Caroline, this can't continue. Until you acknowledge that I am the head of this family you will no longer be welcome in my home."
He turned to his eldest sister, "I'm truly sorry, Louisa, but I just can't go on anymore. She's made my life a misery. All I've ever wanted to be is happy and she's made it impossible."
By the time Bingley reached his room he had begun to shake. He gave instructions to his valet to pack enough clothes to last him for a month. He thought of escaping his home and hiding out for the night at Darcy's home but dismissed the idea the minute the thought crossed his mind. He had come this far and would not act the craven coward. Besides, knowing Caroline she would assume he would cool down and would be ready to apologize by morning. He planned to be halfway to Hertfordshire by the time she arose.
By noon the following day Bingley's coach had pulled up next to the inn at the charming village of Meryton. Bingley stepped down and stretched already feeling in a lighter mood. He had escaped his house without further discourse with Caroline. He'd had a good long dreamless sleep aided by an excess of brandy. He had a large notebook which he was determined to fill with copious notes about the furnishings at the estate and he was perfectly willing to stay in Hertfordshire for the next month if need be. He wanted to be fully prepared to answer any and all questions pertaining to the estate.
As he glanced around and took in his surroundings several of the villagers smiled in greeting and he returned their smiles with his usual affability. He headed straight down the street remembering exactly where the solicitor's office was. He was greeted warmly by Mr. Phillips and within moments they were off to view Netherfield Park.
As the house came into view Bingley's spirits rose. From the moment his coach had entered the village he had begun to feel reborn. He was about to make an important decision all on his own. He would not be consulting Darcy and for this he was in Darcy's debt once again. His friend had been pushing him towards independence since they had first met at Cambridge and Bingley was at last taking that final leap. He was excited, frightened and ultimately exhilarated.
True to the promise he had made to himself, he spent most of the afternoon sketching the major rooms and listing the furniture. With a critical eye he apprised Mr. Phillips of every piece of furniture that would have to be put in storage and be replaced by his own. He wanted the house to be in pristine shape and ready for inhabitance within a month. In the meantime he would purchase the necessary additions that would be needed. He wanted not one word of disapprobation from his sister if she ever visited him in Hertfordshire.
By the time he returned to the inn he was exhausted but extremely pleased with himself. It was just as Darcy had always predicted. There really was something wonderful in taking complete control over your life. Over dinner he heard some excellent news. It seemed that the village of Meryton was holding an assembly dance that evening and Mr. Phillips promised to introduce him to his new neighbors. Bingley loved nothing better than a country dance and he looked at this serendipity as a sign that he had made a splendid choice in coming to Hertfordshire. After a quick bath and dressed in his best finery he made his way slowly down the street examining the quaint shops that lined the route until he came to the assembly hall which sat atop one of the local pubs. With only a moment's hesitation, he climbed the stairs and entered the main room and was immediately addressed by Mr. Phillips who introduced him to the leading inhabitant of Meryton, Sir William Lucas.
His host proved to be a bluff and affable individual and Bingley was pleased beyond measure when that man proposed making introductions to the leading lights of the neighborhood. There was of course Sir Lucas's family, then the Phillips, followed by the Longs. Finally the Bennets of Longbourn were introduced to the handsome bachelor. The two youngest were dancing and laughing loudly making them the center of attention but Bingley spared not a second look at them. It was the blond goddess that immediately grabbed his attention. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on and unconsciously he felt his pulse. It was beating wildly and dimly he thought that it would be a very sad thing if he were indeed dying for he was quite sure he was madly in love. Funny how things turn out.