Unforgiving Temper (15 page)

“Are you quite finished?” she was
furious.

“I am for now,” he drawled indifferently.
“You may go.”

Elizabeth managed to maintain her composure
while in the room, but as she reached the hallway, she exploded
with fury and humiliation at having been subjected to this man's
blatant examination. Gathering her senses long enough to send a
footman with her excuses to Rebecca, she retreated to her room and
flung herself onto the bed.

Hateful, hateful man! How could she have
gotten herself in such a position! She who had always prided
herself on independence and self-reliance was now subject to the
whims and fancies of an arrogant, controlling man like
Lord Grissholm!

Rolling onto her back, she stared at the
ceiling and allowed her tears to flow unchecked. She missed her
simple, unaffected life in Hertfordshire. She missed her father and
she missed Jane, terribly. She had come here for Jane's sake, and
for her happiness she would endure a thousand insulting interviews
with the pretentious Lord Grissholm; but she had no idea if
her efforts were doing any good or not.
Are Jane and
Mr. Bingley engaged by now? Has Father managed to keep Lydia
from Mr. Wickham?
A fresh wave of anguished tears sprang
to her eyes.
Why have I not had any reply to my letters by
now?

The pews of
the little church were filled to capacity, making the warm summer
morning even more so. The frequent stares and not so quiet whispers
circulating throughout the congregation only added to Darcy's
growing discomfort. He stretched his neck to ease the strangling
heat and gave Georgiana a small smile of encouragement. Could a
simple church service be any more uncomfortable? At least it was
nearly over and they would soon be on their way to Pemberley.

Meryton's portly, soft-spoken rector had
finally come to the end of his very long sermon, which clearly had
been written to astound his distinguished visitors, and he was now
looking pensively into the faces of his parishioners.

“In closing, I will make short mention of the
Bennet family. As you all know, the collapse of their beloved
father is a great calamity in their lives. Mr. Bennet has
shown little improvement as yet and his wife and daughters face a
terrible uncertainty in the days to come. Let us pray for
them.”

An assenting murmur ran through the crowd and
the congregation quickly bowed their heads – all except for one. A
thoroughly stunned Charles Bingley lifted his eyes to his sister
with growing horror as the comprehension of Jane's circumstances
became clear. For her part, Caroline sat listening to the prayer
with all the piety of a perfect innocent.

Barely a breath after the final amen, Bingley
was out the door of the church, leaving the rest of his party to
make their own way home. Following after him, Darcy emerged from
the church in time to see his friend striding angrily away. As
Charles turned the corner and disappeared, Darcy caught sight of an
expression that he had seen only once before in his study at
Burnham House.

“Well!” Caroline huffed as she met up with
Darcy. “I cannot say what has got into Charles.”

“Whatever it is, I dare say he will get over
it soon enough,” Louisa smirked. “He always does.”

“Perhaps it was something said in church,”
Darcy replied dryly. “We were under the impression that
Mr. Bennet was not so very ill as the parson seems to
think.”

“Oh, I cannot see why that would matter now,”
Caroline dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “We are
leaving, or at least we shall when Charles has gotten over his
little tantrum.”

Nothing more was said during the short ride
back to Netherfield. Upon their arrival, Darcy quickly got out of
the carriage and offered his assistance to the ladies. He tried his
best to ignore the conspiring, artful smile playing on Caroline's
face as she was handed out, but she seemed intent on drawing him
into her victory.

“The important thing is we have triumphed
once again, Mr. Darcy, have we not?”

“WE have not done anything,
Miss Bingley; and I beg you would not connect me to anything
you imagine you have done. Please excuse us, my sister wishes to
freshen up before we dine.”

* * * *

Caroline Bingley stormed into her brother's
study in a fit of pique. There were a million things to be done
before they could leave. There had better be good reason for
Wilson's irksome persistence in summoning her here. Two steps into
the room, she stopped short at the sight of her brother. His
nervous pacing was nothing new, to be sure, but his earlier
expression had now grown into one of searing anger, and that was
something altogether unexpected. Whatever it was, though, it would
have to wait. She had no time to soothe his ruffled feathers
now.

“Charles, what, pray tell, is so important
that you must interrupt my duties – and why have you stopped the
preparations for closing the house? You are being quite difficult,
you know.”

Bingley offered no courtesies. “Sit down,
Caroline.”

“I really do not have time for this.”

“I said – Sit Down!”

His piercing glare forced her into the chair
which had been placed in the center of the room. Warily she watched
as he circled around her.
I have never seen him like this! What
ever is the matter with him?
His temper seemed to increase with
each passing moment, but he did not speak. Quite put out with his
officious manner, she didn't wait for him.

“All right, I am sitting down. Now will you
kindly explain yourself?”

“No, I will not. You are the one who needs to
explain herself, Caroline!”

“Me? I have no idea what you are talking
about; and I do not like the way you are speaking to me,” she
snapped impatiently.

His voice became dangerously quiet. “What
exactly
did Miss Bennet say in her note to you?”

An expression of guilt spread across her face
as she realized where the conversation was going, but she would not
give him the satisfaction of confessing.

“Why – I believe she said she could not
accept the invitation because her father had fallen ill. A cold or
something of that nature.”

“
Something
of that nature?!” he cried
in furious amazement. “The man collapsed with apoplexy; and you
have the audacity to sit there and tell me he had a cold?! Did you
really think you could keep this from me? This is too much,
Caroline, even for you!”

“I did it for you – for us!” she hissed. “You
are so infatuated with that woman that you cannot see the
reprehensible connection for what it is. Their relations are in
trade
for heavens' sake!”

“
Our father
was in trade,” he
countered angrily. “I should shake some sense into that conceited,
arrogant little brain of yours. Trade is the source of
our
fortune; or have you forgotten that?”

“We are different,” she sniffed. “We are not
engaged in trade now. We don't associate with those people. And
besides, what makes you so sure that Miss Bennet's father is
so terribly ill? The report could have been exaggerated.”

“There is no exaggeration. I have made
inquiries as to the exact nature of his condition and it is grave
indeed. How could you deceive me and allow Miss Bennet to
think me a shallow, hard-hearted villain?”

“Charles, can you not see how ridiculous this
is? Her family and connections are barely acceptable now; if her
father dies, they would become intolerable. The estate is entailed
and she would be penniless. Knowing the man's condition will not
change the facts.”

“No, but it will change Miss Bennet's
opinion of me. It will allow me to offer whatever support I can as
she and her family face this dreadful time. And that is exactly
what I am going to do, dear sister – with your help.”

“Oh, no! Absolutely not!” she sneered
angrily. “I refuse to be any part of your idiotic pursuit.”

“Oh,
yes
! You
will
assist
me!'

“I will not!” she spat.

She began to fear her defiance had fueled his
anger beyond reason, but she would not back down. Her own future
depended upon it.

“Caroline, you will do exactly as I say or
suffer the consequences.”

“I shall not do anything that would in the
slightest way encourage your attachment to Jane Bennet. Depend upon
it!”

“Very well,” he replied stiffly, “then I
suggest you finish packing immediately.”

“That is exactly what I intend to do. The
sooner we leave here, the better!”

“Not
we
, Caroline,
you
. Since
you are dead set against my intended pursuit of Miss Bennet's
affections, I shall ease your distress by removing you from
Netherfield.”

“What?” she fumed. “This is absurd! I am your
sister, I –”

“Precisely. If you cannot support my position
as head of this family, you shall not remain under my roof nor
shall you receive another penny from me. Perhaps our cousin's widow
will welcome you in Scarborough. I would be happy to write her,”
Bingley offered.

“You are bluffing!”

Without hesitation, he moved swiftly to the
door and swung it wide. “Wilson! Wilson!” As the surprised butler
appeared in the doorway, Bingley locked eyes with his sister.
“Wilson, have Miss Bingley's trunks brought down immediately
and tell Rochester we shall want post horses as soon as may be. My
sister is taking a trip.”

Caroline jumped from her chair and faced her
brother with a fury of her own, only stopping herself when she saw
the butler's impassive but attentive look.

“We need not be so hasty, Charles,” she
smiled persuasively. “I am sure these matters merit further
discussion.”

“There is nothing more to be said.”

“But this house, you cannot possibly manage
without me to – ”

“Mrs. Middleton is quite capable, I am
sure.”

Caroline swallowed hard. She could not let
him send her off to Scarborough to be a pauper, dependent upon that
insipid Mary Ashworth for her daily bread! Yet, the very idea of
welcoming Jane Bennet as a sister, of accepting her as the new
mistress of the house was repugnant. To have
Mrs. Bennet
and all those sisters as frequent guests,
even permanent residents should the father die, was equally
distasteful. But she had no choice.

A breach with Charles would put London
society beyond her reach; that is, unless Louisa could be persuaded
to secure a place for her in Mr. Hurst's home – and that was not
likely to happen. Certainly her connection to Mr. Darcy and
any chance of claiming his fortune and standing in society would be
lost. Indeed, chances for
any
advantageous marriage would
all but disappear.
I cannot allow it!
she thought
frantically, she would not be reduced to a miserable life of exile
and penury, not if she could help it.

“Perhaps Mrs. Middleton is capable,” she said
at last, giving Charles her sweetest smile, “but she would not
suffice should you want to invite any particular young lady to
Netherfield. And I would be a much better hostess than I ever was
on past occasions. I would certainly welcome
whomever
you
invite, Charles. Surely you would not want me to leave
now
?”

Wincing at the triumphant smile her groveling
had put on her brother's face, Caroline assumed a more customary
manner and silently resolved to capitulate only to the extent that
would secure her comfort.

“You may leave us, Wilson. My plans have
changed.”

Wilson looked to Bingley, a new respect for
his master reflected in his eyes, and received an approving nod.
Retreating from an obvious field of battle, the butler backed out
of the room and closed the door with a slight smile. The young man
had finally asserted himself as master of his own house.

“Very well, Caroline, it is time for you to
show how welcoming you can be,” Bingley said marching her to his
desk where pen and paper were laid out. Slowly, she sat down.

Feeling her brother's constant presence at
her back, Caroline composed an elegant note to Jane Bennet
expressing regret
(deep regret
, Bingley insisted) at hearing
the news of Mr. Bennet's illness and conveying a sincere hope
for his recovery. Reluctantly following Charles’ explicit
direction, she urged Jane (
most earnestly
, he insisted) to
let her and her brother be of some assistance in this most
difficult time. After two false starts and only one correction
where Caroline was less than complimentary, the letter was
concluded with a renewal of the invitation to tea, if
Mr. Bennet's health would allow.

Wordlessly taking the letter from Caroline's
outstretched hand, Bingley opened the door and placed it in the
hands of Mr. Wilson, instructing him to send it right away.

Fortified by his success, Bingley turned back
to his sister's brooding figure, “Now go get Louisa. I have further
matters to discuss with the both of you.”

* * * *

“What luck, Jane! To have been invited to
Netherfield again. You know I was very hopeful for you when
Mr. Bingley first returned, but then after your father's
illness, I lost all expectation. And now Miss Bingley has once
again invited you to tea! Her letter is so warm and affable. I do
believe she must favor you as a match for her brother. Oh, I knew
your beauty and goodness would be to your advantage some day.”

“Mama, I cannot go. Father is still so very
ill.”

“Nonsense! You shall go. Would you refuse
Miss Bingley again? I think not. It has been days since your
father first took ill, and except for the one turn, he has not
changed a bit these five days. Kitty can sit with him one night.
You must go and encourage Mr. Bingley, my dear.”

Jane was horrified. “Mother! I cannot! It is
not fitting for me to accept a social engagement. Not at a time
like this.”