Chapter 5

It rained the next morning—and the next. For several days, the residents of Meryton were housebound. At Netherfield, this was met with mixed emotions. Caroline Bingley was thrilled as this meant that Mr Darcy could not escape the house for his daily rides or go shooting with the other gentlemen. He was, quite literally, trapped.

And trapped he was. During two days of continual rain, Darcy had never been as irritated as he was. He had begun to make the arrangements for his departure but knew that with this weather, it would take an additional day or two of sun to dry the roads sufficiently to make the journey advisable. A part of him was ready to ride straight to London, rain be damned, but his rational and sane side knew that was inadvisable. Therefore, he hid in his rooms each day as long as he could without being rude and spent more and more time in the company of Mr Hurst. On one or two occasions, he had noticed that Bingley attempted to slip from a room he was in upon Caroline's entry, but usually, Mr or Mrs Hurst were not far behind the harpy. She would huff when they entered since she had asked her sister to help capture the gentleman from Derbyshire, but Louisa was unwilling to do so.

"If you compromise Mr Darcy, you risk ruining yourself and our entire family," Louisa had tried to reason. "I do not believe that Mr Darcy can be forced to marry you as his family has much more wealth and power than ours. He will make you a laughing stock in the ton if you follow through with this and will ensure we will not be able to enter society again."

"I will be Mistress of Pemberley, and if you do not assist me, I will make sure you are never invited there or to our London home. You will be the laughing stock, not me," Caroline cried before stomping down the hall and back to her bedroom.

As she had done several nights of late, she dressed in a silk nightgown that clung to her scant curves and made her way to Mr Darcy's room. There was still a little light under the door, so she knocked on the door and posed in what she believed to be a seductive pose.

"Can I help you, madam?" Roberts asked when he answered the door.

"Yes, Mr Darcy invited me to join him tonight. I did not want to keep him waiting," she stated brazenly as she attempted to push past the valet.

"Mr Darcy informed me of no such invitation," the servant replied. "I am under strict orders not to allow anyone into his rooms without his express permission, and certainly not a harlot. I doubt he would make an exception for you, as my master has never been one to consort with ladies of the night."

She spluttered in rage. "How dare you accuse me of such?" she raged.

"Madam, you are at a single gentleman's door late at night, wearing that"—he waved toward her nightgown that hid little—"and expect to be treated with respect. A lady would never behave as you have, madam, and my master will not be importuned by the likes of you."

"I will ensure you lose your place for your rudeness. You are merely a valet, and you have no cause to speak to me in such a way," she screeched.

Darcy appeared at the door and immediately looked anywhere but at Miss Bingley. "Please shut the door, Roberts. There is little reason to continue this conversation. I will have a letter for you to post to Lady Matlock in the morning telling her of this incident. I would not want anyone to form the wrong impression of what has happened here tonight. I will need it sent by express at first light."

"You cannot mean that, Mr Darcy?" Caroline cried. "Lady Matlock will ruin me in polite society if she makes this known. No, you must marry me; you have compromised me."

"I have done no such thing. You came—uninvited—and knocked on my door in the middle of the night dressed as a common harlot. I do not know what you expected this outcome, but it will not garner a marriage proposal from me. Roberts, would you care for a wife?"

"I would not, sir. If I take a wife, it would not be one with as little to offer as this one. No, I enjoy being in your service and look forward to the day you take a respectable wife," Roberts replied, emphasising the word respectable as he glared once more at Miss Bingley before shutting the door in her face. She heard the sound of the lock click and fell to the floor in tears.

Charles Bingley found her this way a few minutes later, having been alerted by several servants of a disturbance in the hallway. He found Caroline still on the floor outside Darcy's room, barely dressed and crying miserably. He was shocked at her attire and more so by what she said.

"He … will … not …. marry … called … harlot," she sobbed, and her brother struggled to understand what she said. He garnered enough to realise she had attempted a direct approach, which had failed.

"Did he take advantage?"

Caroline sat up, realising this might be her opportunity. "Yes," she sobbed. "He took what he wanted and then threw me out. You must … you must make him marry me."

"I told you I would have no part of this, Caro. I warned you that if you failed, it would be on you. Had I found you with him, not on the floor outside his room, I could have tried to convince him to act honourably, but I cannot. He is far above us in consequence," Bingley said sadly.

"He … write … countess," she gasped as she began crying again. "Must … stop."

"He intends to write his aunt, the countess, about what happened tonight?" Bingley cried, this time, genuinely shocked. "That will ruin all of us. Caroline, you stupid chit, how could you? The Hursts might survive, but they will ruin anyone named Bingley. You worried I would ruin the Bingley name by offering for Miss Bennet, but you have done far more damage than I ever could. If this gets out, I would be fortunate if Miss Bennet did accept me, as no one in polite society will speak to me again."

Once again, Caroline sobbed even more loudly. By this time, Louisa and a maid with Caroline's robe had arrived.

"I warned her against this course," Louisa told her brother as she laid the robe over her sister. "She has made a colossal mess of things—we will need to see if we can send her away and convince people she is ill." After motioning a footman over to assist Caroline to bed, she told her brother. "See if you can convince Mr Darcy to delay his letter. I have no doubt he is writing it now, but see what can be done to mitigate Caroline's disgrace."

Bingley agreed and knocked on his friend's door. Darcy answered and looked at his friend in disgust. "I have heard everything that was said outside my door. Your sister lied—I did not touch her and did my best to avoid even looking at her. Obviously, she was uninvited."

"I know that, Darcy, but she has lost her mind," Bingley insisted.

"Yet, you told your sister that you would have attempted to make me 'act honourably', but only if she were caught in my room. Had you been called earlier and found me speaking with her, despite my valet's presence, would you still have attempted to convince me? You have been lying to me even before I arrived at Netherfield, and I have learned that it was the Hursts who prevented your sister from successfully compromising me," Darcy demanded. "Were we ever truly friends, Charles, or did you attach yourself to my coattails just to use me?"

"We were friends, Darcy," he cried. "We still are unless you throw years of friendship away because my sister has gone slightly mad."

"You knew what she was attempting, and while I know you did not aid her, you did nothing to stop her or to warn me. I heard you tell her just now that you would have attempted to convince me to marry her, knowing that I have repeated time and time that I never would," Darcy retorted. "No, we are no longer friends, and I will never be in your company again. I will recognise the Hursts, but no Bingleys."

"Why them?" Bingely demanded.

Darcy glared at him. "They at least warned Miss Bingley about the foolishness of her efforts. They warned my servant, who in turn warned me against this sort of action. To my knowledge, the Hursts, neither of them, have ever lied to me. They followed Miss Bingley into several rooms following your hasty departure, as obviously, you were attempting to leave me alone with her. I will remain here another day or two until it is safe to depart for London, but our friendship is through."

"Will you cut me?" Bingley asked anxiously.

The hard stare returned. "I will make no effort to recognise you, but I will not deliberately cut you. I will cut your sister should she approach me or mine. If you attempt to pretend a closeness that no longer exists, I will ensure that it is known throughout the ton what your sister has attempted," Darcy told him. "I will write to my aunt to inform her of what happened, but so long as nothing is said, there will be no need for her to repeat any of it. I want her informed of the particulars to counter any gossip should anyone here attempt to start any."

Bingley scowled but could say no more. He departed from the room of his former friend. "Jane Bennet may be the best I can do now, so I will remain here. I will send Caroline away, but then I will pay my addresses to Miss Bennet. At least if I purchase Netherfield and marry a gentlewoman, I will remain a gentleman, even if I no longer have Darcy's patronage," he muttered.

Several of the footmen heard this and wondered what they should do. They informed Mrs Nicholls of all that had transpired that night, and she sent them all to bed with an order that no gossip should leave the house.


Elizabeth found herself equally despondent, confined within the walls of Longbourn. Although she had dispatched a letter to her aunt and uncle, their gracious invitation was thwarted by the relentless rain. Moreover, her inability to see Mr Darcy during this period weighed heavily on her, almost as heavily as her seclusion within the estate. Her mother—Mrs Bennet, she corrected herself for the umpteenth time—had grown increasingly irksome. Elizabeth had become the primary target for her grievances, constantly tasked with attending to her sisters' needs as some sort of retribution for whatever great ill she had brought upon the family.

During these trying moments, she felt more like an unwanted orphan, a harsh reality she now knew to be true. She was indeed an orphan—both her parents were gone, and she had never known them. In fact, she had never known of their existence, having been raised as Elizabeth Bennet. This revelation once more ignited her curiosity about the hidden motives behind the family's deception, leading her to need to escape the sitting room where the rest of the family, except Mr Bennet, of course, was gathered.

She thought to escape to her bedroom for a moment but diverted into the still room instead. At least the various flowers and herbs reminded her of the outdoors, and she took some small solace in that. While there, she contemplated her recently realised orphan status—and heiress.

Elizabeth had helped Mr Bennet with the administration of Longbourn for years, and she wondered about the estate Mr Darcy mentioned—Briarwood. It would be hers on her twenty-first birthday, though that was months away. She wished she could have asked him questions about it, but that would have to wait until they were in company again. She hoped he would be willing to cut his trip to Netherfield short and return to London when she travelled there. Perhaps he would even be willing to find a way for them to travel together.

If they travelled with a trusted maid or companion—could Mrs Hill be spared—they could discuss matters openly. She could ask him all the questions she had about the estate, and maybe he even knew something of her parents. She wished she could bring these up with her … with the Bennets, but she was not supposed to know about them. She scowled at this as she wondered how long they would have waited to tell her the truth.