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Miss Bingley seethed with rage as she reached her rooms after storming up the stairs.
How dare they? How could they deny her her right being Mrs. Darcy. Did they not understand that Mr. Darcy was on his way to propose to her. She was the perfect hostess, she had a great dowry, she spoke the right languages, she could navigate the ton and just a step away from her triumph her own family ruined her life.
It was impossible that Mr. Darcy included her as he spoke those warnings to Charles. Without a doubt Charles or the drunkard Hurst slighted her husband-to-be and that little display in the study was the only way Mr. Darcy could have reacted. She would just distance herself from her traitorous family as soon as she was married to Mr. Darcy and deny them the entry to her homes.
Now she needed a plan. First she had to get to London, there she would visit her good friend Georgiana. Once in the house she would absolutely accidentally meet Mr. Darcy and thereby giving him the chance to apologise for not excluding her from the warning in front of Charles and Louisa. She would of course assure him of her forgiveness, but at the same time indicate that a nice piece of jewellery after their engagement would be a much better apology.
As soon as she accepted Mr. Darcy's proposal she would go shopping. Every dressmaker in London will be fighting to get Mrs. Darcy's patronage. With the deep coffers of Pemberley her pin-money alone would be astronomical and the dressmaker accounts would be paid directly by her husband. Never again would she be wearing anything more than once.
Her life as Mrs. Darcy could only be clouded by two things: the little mousy Georgiana and Mr. Darcy's love for Pemberley. In the former case the solution was simple, either a school or a separate household, and as soon as possible a marriage to a peer, who could give Miss Bingley even more consequence. Oh, to be able to call an earl or a marquess "Brother"! And Pemberley... Surely Mr. Darcy would agree with her that a life in town throughout the whole year was much more beneficial and only the months of July and August should be spent in Derbyshire, hosting a house party for a few dozen guests. Their stewards could for once earn their money through work they were hired to do and not bother Mr. Darcy with mundane and boring letters.
With this thoughts she got into her bed, closed her eyes and fell asleep, only to wake up late the next morning and being again thwarted by her family and incompetent servants.
"Charles, what is the meaning of this?" Miss Bingley yelled as she violently opened the door to his study.
"Caroline, I am not sure I understand you." Mr. Bingley retorted insecure.
"My breakfast, Charles, my breakfast!" She yelled again.
"Was something wrong with your breakfast?"
"Don't be obtuse, Charles. Of course there was something wrong with my breakfast. I would not be telling you otherwise."
"Please tell me what was wrong with your breakfast."
Mr. Hurst, who had been napping on the settee and woke as the door hit the wall, felt like watching an odd sort of ball game without a ball. A children's game, an aptly description, he thought, they behave like children.
"My breakfast, if you could even call it so, included none of my favourite dishes and had practically no variety or quantity!"
"Oh, yes, well, there seemed to be some kind of mistake, but I am sure it will clear itself up."
"What kind of mistake, Charles? What else have you done, besides alienate Mr. Darcy?"
"As you told Mrs. Nichols and Mrs. Edwards.."
"Who?" Miss Bingley asked.
"The housekeeper and the cook of Netherfield." Mr. Hurst interjected.
"Whatever." Miss Bingley said with a disgusted look at her brother-in-law. "By the way, what are you still doing here? Did I not tell you last evening to leave my house?"
"Oh Caroline, you amuse me tremendously. How could I even consider to leave a house where your glorious countenance embellishes my dull existence." Mr. Hurst replied.
Miss Bingley beamed with pride completely missing the sarcasm.
"My breakfast, Charles."
"Yes, yes, certainly. As I was saying, Mrs. Nichols and Cook know of your preference and since your favourite dishes can not be made from the products grown on the home farm.." Mr. Bingley began anew.
"Charles, the mistake!" Miss Bingley began loosing her patience.
"Your favourite dishes can only be bought in one shop in Meryton. The maid decided to verify first with Mrs. Nichols before buying, because the shopkeeper was only willing to sell to us if we pay ten times the usual price."
"Excuse me! What kind of joke is this? Then buy elsewhere! Get the products from London! I don't care! I WANT MY BREAKFAST!"
Mr. Hurst was indeed amused. His little sister at the age of two had similar tantrums. He was six at the time and could remember the nanny dealing with it. It wouldn't be amiss to employ his old nanny and the sight of Caroline being put over Nanny's knee would cheer him for weeks.
"Caroline, I planned to go to Meryton this afternoon and clear up the mistake. The maid probably misunderstood the owner. I can't imagine any other reason for this kind of conduct."
"I told you Charles, you have to be stricter with the servants. Due to some dumb peasant I had to forgo my breakfast!" Miss Bingley wined. "That reminds me, tell the servants to ready the carriage."
"Caroline, the carriage is ready and waiting outside." Mr. Bingley retorted.
"I knew you would support my decision! Perhaps we don't need to be estranged in the future, and I will use my influence on Mr. Darcy as his wife and he will forgive you with time." Miss Bingley exclaimed enthusiastically.
Mr. Hurst laughed so hard, he fell off the settee and kept laughing. Mr. Bingley didn't move at all. He was incapable of moving. He stared at his sister and tried to comprehend what just happened. For a few minutes he deliberated about his next words. He hated conflict and so he pondered about the best way to limit Caroline's outburst. To placate her would suit him better than to deny her outright, he decided.
"Caroline, I am sorry, but I require the carriage this afternoon. Mrs. Nichols said I need to talk to the shopkeeper about the misunderstanding myself. You can use the carriage tomorrow." He would have to find another excuse tomorrow and the day after and the day after. Maybe some day she would accept it, eventually, hopefully.
Miss Bingley actually stomped with her foot.
"Charles, my trip to town is, as you can imagine, more important than some tradesman in this backwater you condemned us to. Use your head and take your horse!"
"Hermes threw his shoe and I really have to clear this up, unless you can do without you favourite dishes?"
"Fine, for all I care take the carriage today. But tomorrow I will be going to London!" Miss Bingley replied and left the study agitated.
"You won't be able to keep her here forever." Hurst addressed his brother by marriage.
"I know." Bingley sighed. "Perhaps she will change her mind."
"Bingley, I thought she is the delusional one in you family, or is denial a family trait? You've got to stay realistic. She will never give up her dream of becoming Mrs. Pemberley. Find her a husband, somebody with a strong will, but in need of a lot of money and be free of her."