At the stop in Bolney Mr. Bingley asked Mrs. Longden how she and Miss Bennet got on during the first part of their trip.
Mrs. Longden laughed. "Very well indeed. Almost from the time your coach left Pyecombe she slept. I would guess that, given the excitement involved in eloping, she did not sleep last night at all. Nor would she have slept during the ride in the hack with Mr. Wickham from Brighton to Pyecombe. Then the shock of what happened at the inn, well – she needs her sleep. So let her sleep. Now, if you do not mind staying here by the coach in case she wakes, I am just going into the inn for a moment.
"Would you like any refreshments?" Mr. Bingley asked.
"No, thank you. Will we be stopping for nuncheon?"
"Yes, I thought at Handcross."
"We …" Mrs. Longden waved a hand at the coach and her sleeping charge "can wait until then."
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At the stop in Hickstead, Mr. Bingley, having ridden ahead to the stop, was about to open the door of the coach and hand out the passengers, when the door was flung open, almost hitting Mr. Bingley in the face.
Lydia hopped out of the coach and stalked towards the inn, glaring at Mr. Bingley as she passed him.
Mr. Bingley handed Mrs. Longden out of the coach and asked "What was that all about?"
Mrs. Longden took his arm and did not answer until they were out of earshot of anyone else. "You kidnapped her from her kind, gentle, handsome, pure, honourable, loving – Mr. Wickham's positive attributes are legion in number – betrothed. You threatened him. You knocked her into the puddle. You …"
"What?"
Mrs. Longden held up her hand. "Do not be alarmed, sir. In her mind, Miss Bennet had created a fairy tale, wherein she was the beautiful princess, and Mr. Wickham was the handsome prince who was carrying her off to his castle in the clouds. Then all of a sudden, you, terrible dragon that you are, came along, killed her prince, and carried her off to your lair, where you will do whatever dragons do to young maidens. Eat them, I suppose."
Mr. Bingley smiled at her. "And now you, her fairy godmother, will wave your magic wand and make everything right."
"Oh dear, I packed it at the bottom of my trunk. Until I can get it out tonight you had best watch yourself around Miss Bennet." Seeing Mr. Bingley's worried look, Mrs. Longden patted his arm and said "Do not worry, before long Miss Bennet will realize that her prince is actually an ogre, her castle is nothing more than a shabby theatrical set; and you are her white knight."
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At the stop in Handcross, Mr. Bingley did not attend at the coach to let the ladies out – 'discretion is the better part of valor,' one of his copybook Shakespeare quotes – he let one of the inn's servants attend to that. Once they were safely out, he indicated that he had arranged for a private room for their nuncheon, and that he would join them after he spoke to his valet. He was happy to see that Lydia was in a more subdued state, although a bit red in the face.
Mr. Bingley asked his valet to find an apothecary shop and purchase some appropriate liniment – he could already feel himself stiffening up and he still had a half days ride ahead of him. His valet mentioned to him, that during the drive to this inn, Miss Lydia Bennet was quite loud, she seemed to be venting her displeasure at someone or something, but the men up top could not make out any details as to what she was saying.
Mrs. Longden met Mr. Bingley outside the door to the private room where they were to have nuncheon.
"I thought I would let you know that Miss Bennet has transferred her anger from you to Mr. Wickham. From what I can glean from the tirade I endured during the ride here, in addition to being a cad and rake, and someone twice her age, he is a deserter from the militia, an unlucky gamester, a habitual liar, a sneak thief, and he chews peppermint lozenges to hide the smell of a rotten tooth he is afraid to have pulled. Oh, and I was afraid to ask her to elaborate, but Mr. Wickham apparently never had any intention to take clerical orders. As for herself, she is, and was, a perfect naïf, the epitome of innocence, taken advantage of by a black hearted villain."
Nuncheon was almost a quiet affair - Mr. Bingley's mother had had a cat that tolerated only her, if anyone else in the household came close to it while it ate, it emitted a low growling, rumbling sound while it munched away - Mr. Bingley thought he heard a similar sotto voce grumbling from Lydia throughout the meal but he may have imagined it.
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At the stop in Cuckfield Mrs. Longden walked Mr. Bingley out of earshot of the others and said "Miss Bennet has an idea on how to make everything good which she would like to present to you."
Mr. Bingley tilted his head. "Why do I get the feeling you don't think it is a good idea?"
Mrs. Longden smiled at him. "I think it is as about as good an idea as can be had from someone who thought eloping with someone the like of Mr. Wickham was a good idea. I would like you to hear her out. But …" she held up a finger, and frowned "… if you think it is a bad idea, as I think you will, I would ask that you let her know in no uncertain terms. Do not sugarcoat your response; do not be diplomatic; do not give her any reason to believe you might agree with her."
Mr. Bingley nodded his agreement and Mrs. Longden gestured at Lydia to join them. When she did, Mrs. Longden said "Well Miss Bennet, Mr. Bingley is prepared to hear you out."
Lydia batted her eyelashes at Mr. Bingley and gave him her most ingratiating smile, one that worked wonders with the older Lucas and Goulding boys, but left him cold. "Mr. Bingley, sir, I've had the most marvelous idea. If you were to pay my dear Wickham's debts and purchase a commission for him in the regulars then I could marry him and everyone will be happy."
Mr. Bingley could only stare at her. He was struck dumbfounded by her audacity.
Lydia must have thought that Mr. Bingley was wondering what was in it for him because she said "And if you do this for me, why Jane will be so happy she'll marry you, and you'll be happy. We'll all be happy!" Although she gave Mrs. Longden a look which clearly said 'maybe not you, you old …'
Mr. Bingley shook his head. "That's the stupidest idea I have ever heard. Are you daft? Why would I throw good money after bad? Why would the regulars take a deserter from the militia? Why would you want to shackle yourself to that rogue for the rest of your life? And to think I would buy your sister's affection like that it's… " He threw up his hands up, turned, and walked away.
Mrs. Longden put her arm out to keep Lydia from chasing after Mr. Bingley but that did not stop Lydia from crying after him "Please, Mr. Bingley, I'll be good, I'll do anything you want, Pleeeeese!"
Mr. Bingley did not react as he walked away nor did he respond.
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At the stop in Crawley Mr. Bingley asked Mrs. Longden how her charge fared given his reaction to her 'good idea' at the last stop.
"Excellent" she answered. "Miss Bennet is sorrowful for what she has done, doubtful of her judgment, and fearful of her future. Her entire world is gloomful. Let us allow her to wallow in it today, tomorrow we can allow the possibility of a little brightness to show itself in her future."
Mr. Bingley blinked at her callous comment and then, figuratively, a bell rang. "You are being cruel to be kind" – another one of his copybook Shakespeare quotes.
Mrs. Longden gave Mr. Bingley a big smile, the sort a headmaster gives a prized pupil upon receiving the correct answer to some difficult academic question; a smile he had never received in all his years of schooling; a smile he was sure his friend, Darcy, had received on numerous occasions in every year of his schooling. It left him feeling rather puffed up and proud.
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At the stop in Horley Mr. Bingley indicated to Mrs. Longden that he would not be joining her and Miss Bennet for supper. She assured him that was quite alright; neither she nor Miss Bennet had any great appetite. They would have a light repast, play a round of the 'marriage game', and then turn in for the night.
"Play what?" asked Mr. Bingley.
"The 'marriage game'" answered Mrs. Longden. "I give my charge a chalk and slate and then ask her what type of man she would like to marry – a gentleman, clergyman, barrister, officer, whatever – I have a book which sets out generally what such men have for incomes – we look up what the income is of her choice – she writes that amount at the top of her slate – then I have a second book which sets what common expenses amount to – things such as rent, food, servants, children etc. – my charge picks out items she wishes to pay for and deducts those from the income available to her – as referee I ensure that she does not cheat, she has to pay for the necessities such as food – my charge wins if she still has monies available to her at the end of a notional year – if she does not then she ends up in …"
"The hedgerows" Mr. Bingley blurted out.
Mrs. Longden gave him a puzzled look. "I was going to say 'in the street' but that works too. Anyway, tonight I will not give Miss Bennet a choice, she is going to have to play with the income of a militia lieutenant."
"Isn't that piling on? I thought Miss Bennet was already beaten down."
"She is, and it is my intention to reinforce it. Tonight, she is going to dream of eking out a living in a hovel, not living happily ever after in a fairy tale castle in the clouds."
Mr. Bingley bid Mrs. Longden a good night and then went up to his room. He was looking forward to a hot bath, a brandy, or two, and a rubdown with a special 'nine oils' liniment his valet had found, reputed to cure all muscle aches suffered by horse and rider.
As he climbed the stairs, Mr. Bingley pondered how he might contrive to place his sister, Caroline, under the care and control of Mrs. Longden. Probably impossible, but just the thought of it happening made him smile.