“I’ll thank you not to mention it! It will be a good many years if ever before I allow Georgy to wed!”
Charles laughed at Darcy’s expression and turned his horse toward the track that would lead them to Netherfield. “I don’t think you’d ever consider there to be a man worthy of little Georgy!”
Darcy shook his head in agreement. “Sisters are the very devil!”
That only made Charles grimace, thinking of the necessary conversation to come with Caroline. He did not expect that it would go well.
***
After dinner, when the men had rejoined the ladies in the parlour, Charles approached Caroline and asked if she would attend him in his study as he had some private matters to discuss with her.
“Why Charles, I am sure there is nothing you can have to say to me that the others cannot hear,” Caroline said archly, but Charles shook his head very firmly. Several other guests had arrived for the weddings on the morrow, and while he was angered with his sister’s behaviour he would not subject her to ridicule and scorn from them by reproaching her publicly.
“In the study, now, if you please, sister.”
“Well, pray allow me to take leave of our guests,” she said with an affected sigh, but it was a full hour later before she walked into his study without even a courtesy tap on the door.
Charles looked up from a book he had placed on his desk. “Sit down, please, Caroline,” he gestured to the chair opposite his desk. Caroline gave him a strange look.
“I think I should be more comfortable here, than in your steward’s chair, Charles,” she gestured to one of the two comfortable wing chairs by the window, and began to walk in that direction.
“Caroline, you will sit down,” Charles made his voice come out sharp and hard, and watched her stop in surprise. She turned to face him, and he pointed again at the chair where his steward sat while taking his direction. “This is not a nice little chat between brother and sister. I am giving you directions which you will follow, and as such this is an entirely appropriate seat for you.”
Caroline blinked in astonishment. In all of his life she had never heard Charles sound as he did now. She surveyed him and asked “Charles, have you been drinking?”
“Caroline, I am entirely sober, and you will sit down now.”
She sat, her eyes wide. “I must say that I do not appreciate your speaking to me in this tone...”
“Am I or am I not the head of this family?” he asked her sharply.
“Well yes, of course...”
“And as such, dear sister, I have had quite enough of your questioning my decisions. On the morrow I am marrying Miss Bennet, the love of my life. From this day forward, every disparaging comment you make, every sneer directed in her direction, every subtle put-down upon her origins, will cost you five pounds a month from your allowance. Every. Single. Time.”
Caroline sat with her mouth open staring at him in astonishment, no doubt thinking that he had never spoken to her so sharply in his entire life. After a few moments she seemed to collect her thoughts and spoke, her tone conciliating. “But dear brother, you must know I have only ever wanted the best for you!”
“Miss Bennet is the best for me, Caroline. I have made it very clear on many occasions that I admire her above all women in England. Your implication that she is not is yet another put-down to her, and as such your allowance for next month is now down to twenty pounds.”
Caroline swallowed the obvious mouthful of retorts that had been about to spew forth and simply sat, slowly turning a very unattractive shade of purple.
“I have already asked you only to speak well of Miss Bennet,” Charles said after a few moments. “You did not seem inclined to obey me when I asked you nicely. Apparently money does talk, however. And remember, should you desire me to loose the reins on your inheritance, all you need do is marry! You’ve had your chances, Caroline: I strongly suggest that if you do not wish to remain in my household that all you need do is accept one of the numerous offers that have been made to you and no doubt will be made again on our return to London.”
“Pah!” Offered a new target for her venom, Caroline regained her voice. “Even you, Charles, cannot force me to marry a man I do not want!”
“Perhaps it might be wiser for you to reconsider some of those offers in a new light, now that the man you do want is being removed from the marriage mart,” Charles said, not unkindly, but Caroline took it badly.
“I collect you mean Mr Darcy?” she enquired in frigid tones.
“Caroline, do not make any more of a fool of yourself than you already have. You chased him and he chose Miss Elizabeth.”
“Scheming little...”
“I do believe that my prohibition on speaking ill of Miss Bennet shall extend to her sister,” Charles said before she got any further, and Caroline snapped her mouth shut, though her snapping eyes and high colour expressed her rage.
“Caroline, I will not live with you mistreating my wife,” he said it softly but very clearly. “You shall not condescend to her, you shall not malign her –– to anyone – and you shall treat her as though you are absolutely overjoyed to have Jane as your sister. Because my loyalty will always be to my wife, and I will always take her side from this moment on, I give you fair warning to make your peace with my choice now, or leave my household as soon as you may. You have many friends who are always willing to welcome you into their homes.”
Caroline sat rigid, her mouth a tight, unattractive line, and Charles sighed again, wondering if he was going to be saddled with her for the rest of his life. How on earth did he end up with such a social-climbing snob for a sister? He blamed that blasted finishing school in Bath their stepmother had insisted on sending her to. Louisa was already out and wed by the time their father had remarried, but Caroline was only seventeen and the new Mrs Bingley had deemed that she needed some polish before going out into Society. Charles considered himself lucky to have escaped his stepmother’s machinations: he was already at the end of his first year of Cambridge where he had been lucky enough to find Darcy as a friend, a friend of whom his socially-climbing stepmother had most heartily approved.
Charles had every sympathy for the Misses Bennet, for he knew exactly what it was like to have a pushy mother determined to elevate the family’s social standing at whatever cost. His stepmother was the one, he was sure, who had encouraged Caroline to catch Darcy. Charles only thanked God that Darcy had no interest in his sister whatsoever. While nothing would make Charles happier than to call Darcy his brother, he was much happier that they would be united through the Bennet family.
“Perhaps,” he suggested gently, “a visit to Sir John and Lady Forrest might suit you.” Their stepmother had remarried barely six months after their father’s death, to an extremely wealthy older man knighted for his services to the Crown. Sir John spared his wife nothing, but had no interest in her children. Caroline would get no extra income there: Lady Forrest might lavish a few gifts on her but that would be all.
There was silence for a few moments, and then Caroline inclined her head, very slightly. “Perhaps I shall write to Lady Forrest,” was all she said, and Charles knew that was all the acquiescence he would get from her. He had wounded her pride, for certain, but better a few pins in Caroline’s puffed-up notions of herself than that she should wound Jane with her condescension!
“I do not wish to hurt you,” he said gently, not liking the stiff, frozen expression on her face. “I have only ever wanted to see you happy, Caroline.”
She seemed to sort through her thoughts for a moment, and then said “I only ever wanted to be mistress of Pemberley.”
There did not seem to be much he could say to that, only “I am afraid that is something that was never in my power to give you.”
“No,” she responded coolly, and left it at that. When he said no more, after a few moments she stood, smoothing her skirt. “By your leave, Charles, I will return to our guests. My responsibilities as mistress of yo
ur household remain until your wife is ready to take them over.”
Charles was about to say something snappish and then paused to reconsider. Somehow he doubted that Jane would be quite ready to take over all responsibilities in his household the very day of her wedding! And indeed – perhaps he would not be willing to let her out of his bed for long enough to do so! Instead he said: “Caroline, you are generous. I have been thinking that I would like to take Miss Bennet away on a short honeymoon for a few days, perhaps next week.”
She looked at him surprised. “But where should you go?”
Since the idea had at that very moment popped into his head, Charles took a few moments to consider. “Perhaps to Eastbourne,” he said then. “We stayed in a very pleasant hotel there the summer before last, do you recall?”
“The Grand,” Caroline said unwillingly. “It was very pleasant, yes.”
“I shall write to them requesting a suite, and if they respond that one is available, I shall take Miss Bennet – Mrs Bingley – and you will stay here and take care of Netherfield for me, if you will, Caroline, until our return.”
She gave him a stare, and then a shallow curtsy. “I am at your disposal, of course, dear brother.”
The tone was sarcastic, but really he had no call to say anything. She had, after all, followed his directives. And there would be no one at Netherfield upon whom she could vent her spite when he was gone: Darcy intended to leave with Elizabeth a day or two after the wedding, taking her straight to Pemberley, while his cousin Fitzwilliam would escort Georgiana on a visit to his parents the Earl and Countess of Matlock. Only Mr and Mrs Bennet and their two remaining daughters would be close enough, and Caroline would look very bad if she could not contain her bile against her newest relatives, no matter how much she disliked them.
Charles reached for pen and paper and began a note to the manager of the Grand at Eastbourne, requesting that they advise by return whether a suite would be available for the newly married couple one week hence. He finished it quickly, sealed and franked it, and on his way back to the drawing-room laid it on the salver in the hallway, to go to post in the morning.
On his entry into the room, Charles spotted Georgiana Darcy attempting to quietly edge her way out of the company, and promptly went to her side. She was a sweet girl regularly in need of rescuing in social situations. He had briefly felt a little awkward in her presence once he realised Caroline’s plan that they should marry – in furtherance of her pursuit of Darcy, of course, not from any real belief that they might suit.
“Will you dance with me, Miss Darcy, on my last night as a bachelor?”Charles said loudly. “Come, Louisa, let us have a tune!””
“Oh, but I could play...” Georgiana saw a chance to hide behind the pianoforte, but Charles was having none of it.
“Certainly not, Miss Darcy, for if you play everyone will only wish to sit and listen reverently! Louisa will play and I shall dance your slippers bare!”
Georgiana could not help but laugh and take his hands, and a moment later three more couples had joined the dance, Colonel Fitzwilliam one of them with Caroline, to spare Darcy, who as usual when Elizabeth was not present could not be coerced to dance at all.
The Wedding
Jane did not think that she would sleep a wink. She and Elizabeth were sent to bed quite early, though, and they sat brushing each others’ hair by the light of a single candle and talking softly so that they might not be discovered.
“So you did let Mr Bingley kiss you,” Elizabeth said teasingly, drawing the brush gently over Jane’s hair. Jane was glad she was facing away from her sister, so that Elizabeth could not see her scarlet cheeks.
“Yes,” she murmured softly, “yes, I did.”
“And do you feel a little better now about what will happen tomorrow?” Jane sensed genuine concern in Elizabeth’s question.
“Yes, I do,” she answered honestly. She still feared the pain, for physical pain was something that Jane was well aware she did not tolerate well. But she was confident that Charles would be gentle with her and do his best not to hurt her, and after all she had never heard of a woman who died of pain on her wedding night!
“Oh, Jane, I shall miss you so!” Elizabeth laid down the brush and hugged her, and Jane hugged her back.
“Oh Lizzy, you shall not have time to miss me! You shall be busy learning to be mistress of a very grand estate, and sister to Miss Darcy, and wife to Mr Darcy! In no time at all we shall be together again, for Mr Bingley has promised that we shall come to Pemberley for Christmas, and even Papa says that he thinks of coming with Mama and Mary and Kitty, which of course means that he shall if you will just ask him sweetly.”
Elizabeth laughed, but there were tears in her eyes. “Promise me that you will write very often, my dearest?”
“Lizzy, it is not I who am reckoned a poor correspondent!” Jane chided laughingly.
Elizabeth laughed too then, a little shame-faced. “I promise I shall try harder! And Jane, there is one thing that you must promise me, that you will not let Caroline Bingley bully you.”
“I am sure that she would not,” Jane replied, though inside she quaked a little. Caroline Bingley could be ferociously intimidating, and Jane did not look forward to their first confrontation. For confrontation there would be. Jane knew herself to be generous to a fault and liable to give in rather than face conflict, but she would be mistress of Netherfield. And one thing that Mrs Bennet had drilled into her eldest daughter, so beautiful and clearly destined to be wife of a wealthy man and mistress of a grand estate, was that once she was in charge, that she must be In Charge. And that she must at the earliest possible opportunity apprise any potential rivals to her authority of that fact.
“I am very sure that she would,” Elizabeth responded.
“You leave Caroline Bingley to me,” Jane said firmly, “though it is clear you are far luckier in the sister you will gain than I. Georgiana Darcy is the sweetest girl.”
“Is she not?”Elizabeth smiled fondly. “I think she is very much like you were at her age, dearest! And when I think what that blackguard Wickham tried to do...”
They both shuddered in unison. “Horrible to say, but I must be glad that Lydia is now Mrs Wickham and not Georgiana,” Elizabeth said then. “At least Lydia has enough strength of character to stand up for herself!”
“I hope so,” Jane said, feeling suddenly that her feet were cold. She wriggled under the bedclothes, tying the ribbon in the end of the long braid Lizzy had woven into her hair as they talked. “Blow that candle out, Lizzy. We must try to sleep.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I am sure I never shall!” But she complied with Jane’s request and crawled into bed. They whispered together a little while longer, until eventually Jane sensed Elizabeth was on the edge of sleep, as her responses became slower and less sensible. Jane fell silent and Elizabeth did not speak again.
Jane lay wakeful for a long time, staring out at the stars. She liked to sleep with the drapes a little open so that she could see the night sky, and wondered if Charles would let her. In summer her room was so stuffy. But then all the rooms at Netherfield were huge, and certainly not stuffy. Jane wondered what her room would be like. She was sure that Charles would allow her to redecorate it if she wished: hopefully he had not let Caroline prepare for the new mistress! Jane shuddered slightly, thinking of the shades of oranges and deep pink that Caroline Bingley seemed to favour.
Thinking of what her room would be like led Jane to wonder. Would Charles come to her room? Would his room be adjoining, and would he expect her to come to him? Surely not! And Jane was very sure that she could not, that she would never be able to walk to his bed in only a nightgown or robe. Her knees failed at the very thought! But then she recalled the heated look that Charles had given her after that kiss and she smiled to herself. No, Charles would come to her, and eagerly, she thought. Jane fell asleep at last with a smile on her face, remembering that kiss, the heat and tenderness of Charles’ mouth,
the strength of his hands as he held her close.
“Are they still abed?” It was Mrs Bennet’s shrill scream that woke Jane. ““Hill! Hill! Go and wake Jane and Lizzy directly! Oh, my Lord! We shall never be ready!”
Mrs Bennet’s fears were unfounded: both girls were ready in plenty of time to mount the carriage with their father and travel to the church, though one would never have known that they were punctual by the panicked look on Charles Bingley’s face. Somehow in the night he had convinced himself that he had terrified Jane with his ardour and that she, a pure and perfect virgin, would find herself utterly unable to go through with the wedding. The expression of relief on his face when Jane entered the church on Mr Bennet’s arm was comical to behold, though Darcy who would have been the most likely to laugh at him was entirely occupied in looking his fill at Elizabeth.
The two sisters had chosen to wear identical dresses of purest white satin, delicate bands of Brussels lace at the hems and sleeves. Bingley, who had privately expected a mass of frills as chosen by Mrs Bennet, was utterly delighted. Jane’s golden hair was piled in a complex coronet of braids threaded by tiny white rosebuds, and it seemed to him that all she needed was a pair of wings and she would be an angel in truth. She walked the aisle towards him, a soft smile on her beautiful face, and he stepped forward as though in a dream state to claim her hand.
“I have never seen you look so beautiful as you do this day,” he whispered, and a pretty blush tinted Jane’s pale cheeks.
The wedding ceremony was a blur to Charles, who could do little but stare at Jane. She peeked up at him often from those stunning aqua eyes, that blush still colouring her face prettily, but her voice was steady and clear as she carefully repeated her vows. Bingley was sure he stumbled and stuttered like an absolute buffoon, but all he could think about was that in a few short hours he would have Jane to himself at last.
Darcy had ordered his cabriolet brought up from London for the occasion, and after the church ceremony both couples were seated in the open carriage for the ride back to Netherfield. Local children tossed flower petals at them and Charles laughed as they pulled away, taking off his top hat and shaking the petals from it. Jane was giggling too, plucking petals from her lap and tossing them out of the carriage. Darcy and Elizabeth had escaped the worst of it: Jane had been directly in the path of the petal shower and was quite covered in them, petals tumbling from her hair as she moved her head about. A few white petals had fallen on her chest, and Charles found himself staring arrested as they tumbled down inside the neck of her dress.
Mr Bingley's Bride (Sensual Historical Romance) Page 2
