Chapter 6
It rained the next morning—and the following day as well. During this time, most of the residents near Meryton were practically housebound as the rain made most outdoor activities impractical and carriages could not travel without getting stuck in the mud. At Netherfield, this news was met with mixed emotions. Caroline Bingley was thrilled since it meant Mr Darcy would not be able to escape the house for his daily rides or to go shooting with the other gentlemen. He, however, was quite literally trapped inside the house with her, with few places to go to where he could avoid her.
And trapped he certainly felt. During the two days of continual rain, Darcy had never been as irritated as he was at that moment. 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, at least in a carriage. A part of him was ready to ride straight to London, rain be damned, but his rational and sane side knew that was inadvisable, regardless of the provocation. 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 noticed Bingley 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 her annoyance when they entered since she had asked her sister to help capture the gentleman from Derbyshire, but Louisa was unwilling to do so and seemed to be actively disrupting her sister's plans.
"If you attempt to compromise Mr Darcy, you risk ruining not just yourself but our entire family with you," Louisa had tried to reason with her sister. "I do not believe 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 plan, and his family will ensure we will never be able to enter society again. Keep in mind that a man can get away with such things, but women cannot recover if it becomes known they have been ruined, or it is even hinted at."
"I will be Mistress of Pemberley, and if you do not assist me, I will ensure you are never invited there or to our London home. You will be the laughingstock of society, 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 thin 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.
"Is there anything I can do for 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 and into Mr Darcy's rooms.
"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 did little to hide her negligible charms—"and expect to be treated with respect. A lady would never behave as you have, madam, and my master would not care to 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 to see what caused the disturbance 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 to inform her of this incident. I would not want anyone to form the wrong impression of what has happened here. 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, I might add—and knocked on my door in the middle of the night dressed as a common trollop. I do not know what you expected the outcome of this to be, 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 near Darcy's room. He found Caroline still on the floor, barely dressed and crying miserably. He was shocked at her attire and more so by what she said.
"He … will … not …. marry … called … trollop … door in face," she sobbed, and her brother struggled to understand her mutterings. 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 your own head. Had I found you with him, not on the floor outside his room, I could have tried to convince him to act honourably, but as matters stand, I can not. He is far above us in consequence and despite our friendship, I do not think he will be persuaded in this case," Bingley replied sadly.
"He … intends … to 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 the scandal, but this will ruin anyone with the name Bingley if it becomes known. 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."
This only caused Caroline to sob even more loudly. By this time, Louisa and a maid carrying Caroline's robe had arrived.
"I warned her against this course," Louisa told her brother as she laid the robe over her sister's form. "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. Perhaps Lady Matlock would not make this known if we agree to send Caroline away from London?"
Bingley reluctantly agreed and knocked on his friend's door to make the attempt. Darcy answered and looked at his friend in disgust. "Bingley, 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 showed up uninvited."
"I know that, Darcy, but she has clearly lost her mind. She believed you accepted my invitation to spend time with her and would offer for her on this trip, and nothing I said to her could convince her otherwise."
"Yet you told your sister a moment ago 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 still speaking with her, despite my valet's presence, would you still have attempted to convince me then? 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 when you have taken steps to leave us alone," Darcy demanded. "Were we ever truly friends, Charles, or did you attach yourself to my coattails just to use me for my connections to society?"
"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 assist her, you did nothing to stop her or to warn me. I heard you tell her so just now. You knew that I would have never touched her, not under any circumstances, and I have told you time and time again would never marry her," Darcy retorted. "No, we are no longer friends, and I will never willingly be in your company again. I will recognise the Hursts if I encounter them in town, but no Bingleys."
"Why them?" Bingley demanded.
Darcy glared at him. "They at least warned Miss Bingley about the foolishness of her efforts and attempted to dissuade her from the attempt. They warned my servant, who in turn warned me. 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 until it is safe to depart for London, but our friendship is done."
"Will you cut me?" Bingley asked anxiously.
The hard stare returned. "I will make no effort to recognise you, but neither will I 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 it is known throughout the ton what your sister has attempted. I will write to my aunt to inform her of what happened, but so long as nothing is said against my honour, 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 angrily departed from the room of his former friend, muttering as he went. "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. That should garner me some notice in the ton, and they will recall that we were friends, even if we no longer appear together."
Several of the footmen heard this and wondered what they should do about it, as they liked most of the Bennet girls and distrusted the Bingleys. They informed Mrs Nicholls of all that transpired that night, and she sent them to bed with an order that no gossip should leave the house. While they owed no loyalty to the tenants, they did like the Hursts and Mr Darcy and were aware of the budding friendship between Darcy and Miss Elizabeth. It was for her sake, as much as anyone else, that no gossip would 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 in London, their invitation and her departure were 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 aunt—Mrs Bennet, she corrected herself for the umpteenth time—had grown increasingly irksome over the last days. 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 apparently brought upon the family.
Since learning of the lies her aunt and uncle had told her over the years, making her feel the dependent, and frankly, unwanted orphan, for so many years, she had uncomfortable with referring to them so familiarly. She did not want to maintain the connection after she left and struggled not to feel overwhelmed with anger or sorrow over the realisations.
During these trying moments, she felt more than ever like an orphan. She was—she had always known that both her parents were gone—but she felt even more alone now. Truly, little had changed; Uncle Thomas was still her uncle, but rather than being the natural child of Edward Bennet as many assumed her to be, she was the child of her uncle's sister, who had been legally married to her father. Instead of being penniless and accepting the charity of her relations, she was contributing to the household for her care. It was unjust for her family to have made her feel like a charity case for most of her life and she almost hated them for it.
It was bad enough that her parents were gone and that she had never known them. Everyone that had loved her was gone and instead of telling her any of this, her relations had kept it a secret and made her feel ashamed of her heritage, not even letting her keep her name. 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, were 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 status as an orphan—and that of an heiress, as she had finally learned.
Elizabeth had helped Mr Bennet with the administration of Longbourn for the last several years, and she wondered about the estate Mr Darcy mentioned—Briarwood, he had called it. It would be hers on her twenty-first birthday, though that was still months away. She wished she could have asked him more questions about it, but that would have to wait until they were once again in company. Elizabeth 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 these 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 thought as she wondered how long they would have waited to tell her the truth, if ever.