Mrs. Hurst's Dressing Room
Hurst House
Two Days Later
Louisa Hurst took a dainty nibble of scone, washed it down with a sip of tea, and waited anxiously. A full two minutes passed and she felt well enough for more, so she took another bite and another sip, and within fifteen minutes she had finished her small repast.
She had longed to conceive a child for several years now and was ecstatic to be pregnant. By the end of the year, if all went well, she and Hurst would be proud parents to a baby, and at this point, she did not particularly care whether the child was a boy or a girl.
She had, however, been startled at how badly she felt in the evenings. She had heard that most women felt a bit off in the mornings, so why did she feel so nauseous, so fatigued, so vile, before bedtime? Moreover, she wanted to cry more or less all the time, which was dreadful. Her poor husband, to be married to a watering pot!
Of course, it was worth it all for the child growing in her womb.
The door to her dressing room opened suddenly, and Amelia, her personal maid, appeared, a faint look of distress on her usually stoic face.
"Madame, Mr. and Miss Bingley have just arrived from Scarborough."
Louisa grunted in surprise and dismay and turned to look out the window, through which puffy evening clouds reflected the pink rays of the setting sun. "Both of them?"
"Yes, Madame."
Louisa groaned and started to lever herself up, which provoked Amelia to hurry forward. "Mr. and Miss Bingley said that they needed to refresh themselves, so you need not hurry downstairs. I can assist you if you need…"
She trailed off, and Louisa grimaced and nodded. One of the surprises of early pregnancy was that she needed to use the water closet with monotonous regularity.
"Ought I to change into evening attire, do you think?" she asked weakly.
"Of course not, Madame," Amelia said reassuringly. "I am certain that Mr. Hurst would wish you to be as comfortable as possible."
/
Rear Sitting Room
Hurst House
Caroline was poring over a pile of invitations on the desk when Louisa stepped into the room, clad comfortably in a pink silk dressing gown, with a warm, if rather unfashionable, cap on her head. Her husband, still dressed in his evening attire, followed close on her heels, with a protective hand on her back.
"Good evening, Louisa, Hurst," Bingley said from his place near the fire. "I hope you both are well?"
"Yes, thank you," Louisa replied, casting a bemused look at Caroline. "I confess to great surprise at your sudden arrival."
"Why ever are you here, Louisa, and why are you dressed in that ridiculous dressing gown?" her sister demanded, looking up to glare at her sister. "You and Hurst should be at the Sinclair ball tonight!"
"Louisa is expecting a child," Hurst said promptly, "and thus is not well enough to be cavorting around Town at this hour."
This provoked a look of surprise from both Bingleys, and Louisa shifted a little closer to her husband. She had married Hurst because he was a gentleman. He had married her because of her twenty thousand pound dowry. They had never had much in common, and Hurst generally spent his days napping and eating, and his evenings playing cards. He had never previously bothered to speak up when Caroline was being tiresome. But now, Louisa thought admiringly, Mr. Hurst had taken on the protective mien of a male eagle protecting its mate.
"I do think you might force yourself to go," Caroline complained, recovering her poise. "How am I to find a husband if you do not even bother to go out during the Season?"
"I do not care a whit whether you marry or remain single," Hurst replied coldly. "Moreover, you ought not to be in London at all, Caroline, not after you embarrassed yourself so thoroughly at Damaral House."
Caroline's eyes flared wide in astonishment, and she exclaimed, "How dare you, Brother? Charles, do something!"
"Bingley will not do anything," Hurst replied, guiding Louisa over to the most comfortable chair by the fire and taking a protective position next to her. "This is my house, and if you do not care for my words, feel free to leave!"
Bingley, who was battling a headache, rose from his chair and strode over to a tray on a small table. He poured himself some port wine, threw it down, and grimaced. He had hoped that after several days of traveling with his obnoxious younger sister that he would be able to turn her over to Louisa who had, in the past, generally been able to calm Caroline down.
But Hurst was being entirely reasonable, though Bingley had not foreseen, not in the least, the man's reaction to their sudden arrival. The Hursts had been waiting and praying for this baby for a very long time, and Louisa ought not to be forced to cope with stressful situations.
Caroline Bingley's middle name might be Frederica, after her paternal grandmother, but a more appropriate middle name would be 'obnoxious', and as such, she was hardly a welcome companion to a woman struggling with pregnancy induced sickness.
"I do apologize for arriving unexpectedly," Bingley said in a weary tone. "I hope you will permit us to stay tonight at least, and then we can make other arrangements?"
He had no idea where he and Caroline would go if the Hursts did not welcome them in, though. They could stay in a hotel for a few days – Fenton's, perhaps, or the Clarendon, but not forever. Perhaps they could hire a house, though at this time in the Season, the suitable options would be few and far between.
"You cannot be serious!" Caroline cried out, her brow furrowed with outrage. "You cannot tell us to leave! Louisa, say something!"
Louisa cringed at the sight of her sister's fury and turned pleading eyes on her husband. She felt too sick and too worn out, and too blue, to do battle with Caroline, when the younger woman was engaging in a fit of pique.
"Louisa, my dear, I know you are fatigued," Hurst said and held out his hand. "Do let Amelia put you to bed. I will speak to your siblings about the future."
Louisa glanced nervously at Caroline, who was bright pink with anger, and then back at her husband, who was smiling down at her reassuringly.
"I do feel very unwell," she acknowledged and took her husband's hand and allowed him to pull her to a standing position. He put a gentle arm around her and guided her to the door, where he released her into the care of Amelia, who was hovering nearby.
"Amelia, put Mrs. Hurst to bed," he ordered, "and sleep in her dressing room so that you are easily available. You should also lock both doors behind you. I do not wish for Miss Bingley to bother my wife this evening.
Amelia changed in an instant from humble handmaid to guardian. "Yes, sir, I will."
Louisa felt her eyes fill with tears and cast a misty, appreciative look on her husband. "Thank you."
"It is my honor to serve you, my dear," the gentleman answered with a small bow, and then he turned around and marched back into the sitting room, where the Bingleys were standing by the fire arguing with one another. Caroline was insisting that it was absurd to think of living elsewhere than the Hursts' house while they were in Town, and Charles was equally firm that they ought not to force Louisa to host them when she was obviously so unwell.
"But this time of year, there will be nothing to hire even remotely satisfactory!" Caroline snapped, and Hurst said, "That may or may not be true, Caroline, but let me make myself completely clear to you. I will permit you and Charles to spend the night here, but tomorrow you must depart this house. Moreover, I have a suggestion. Netherfield Park is but five and twenty miles away, and you could be there by nightfall."
Bingley turned a hopeful look on his brother by marriage. "Is Miss Bennet back at Longbourn, then?"
"You cannot seriously be considering pursuing Miss Bennet!" Caroline cried out, leaping to her feet and planting her hands on her hips.
"I most certainly am!" her brother returned. "I love her!"
Hurst, for the first time this evening, felt himself waver a little inwardly. He liked Bingley, and was even beholden for the man's undeniable generosity over the years. It was Caroline who was entirely impossible. But there was no legitimate reason for keeping silent at this juncture.
"Bingley," Hurst said and took a few steps forward to look at the man in the eyes. "I am sorry to be the bearer of difficult tidings, but Miss Jane Bennet is engaged to Richard Fitzwilliam, second son of the earl of Matlock."
Bingley jerked, his face turned white, and he released a cry of horror even as he dropped into nearby chair.
"No!" he blurted out a minute later. "No!"
"I fear so," Hurst said sympathetically.
"Well, that is truly excellent news," Caroline said smugly. "I did not imagine that an earl's son would marry a solicitor's granddaughter, but men are often fools when confronted by a pretty face. Now Charles, you know that Georgiana Darcy is well connected, wealthy, and you are Darcy's closest friend. Perhaps…"
"As for you, Sister," Hurst interrupted, much less sympathetically, "I have vital news for you as well. Mr. Darcy is engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
Caroline froze, paled, reddened, collapsed onto a chair, and last, but definitely not least, screamed aloud.
/
/
Author Note: Two chapters (39 and 40) today, so keep reading! :-) And note that there is ONE MORE CHAPTER to go, which I will post tomorrow. I know Fanfiction has been having a lot of issues with notifications etc... so make sure you check for it.