Page 25 of A Most Beloved Sister
“Apologize, me? I wasn’t the one who lost her temper!”
“Caroline, don’t push me on this. You will apologize, or I will not subsidize your allowance this quarter. You’ll have to make do with what you have left.”
“But I’ve already spent it all, Charles!”
“Then you’ll apologize.”
Miss Bingley huffed and crossed her arms, slouching back in her chair. The maid, startled by the sudden movement, yelped and dropped the brush.
“Stupid girl,” Miss Bingley said crossly. “Pick it up! If it’s damaged in any way by your carelessness, I’ll take the cost of it from your wages.”
The maid—a shy thing named Emily—stammered out an apology and bent to pick the item from the floor. The poor girl’s hands trembled as she resumed her attentions to her mistress’s hair.
“Caroline, I mean it. You will apologize.”
“Oh, very well,” she snapped. “I’ll apologize to the chit. Happy?”
Bingley frowned at the appellation, but he was reluctant to take his sister to task once again. “Thank you,” he said, choosing to take the small win.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get to sleep. I want to be up early for breakfast, and I can’t appear in front of Mr. Darcy with shadows under my eyes.”
Rolling his eyes, Bingley left his sister’s room and walked to his own, all the while remembering the comfort of a gentle smile and soft voice.
Please, God, keep her healthy for as long as You can.
∞∞∞
Darcy awoke early the next morning and dressed for the day. He usually kept country hours, and residing in a household with Miss Bingley did nothing to discourage his habits. He knew, from the reports of his servants, that Miss Bingley had attempted several times to catch him breaking his fast by rising early herself, but she always seemed to just miss him.
Little did she know that his valet had convinced Miss Bingley’s lady’s maid to inform him each night what hour Miss Bingley had requested to be woken up. The young girl, who had little loyalty to her harsh mistress and thought Darcy handsome and kind, willingly gave up the information.
Thus Darcy had just finished his morning ride and was approaching the house when an express rider approached.
“Mr. Darcy?”
Upon confirming his identity, the young man passed down a note, then held out his hand for payment. Darcy fished a few coins from his pocket, and the lad dashed away again as quickly as he came, all without dismounting.
Heart sinking, Darcy opened the missive and looked at the unfamiliar handwriting.
Dear Mr. Darcy,
I shall be joining you at Netherfield tomorrow to check on Miss Jane Bennet’s health. Upon my arrival, I kindly request that a private study or meeting room be prepared, where I can conduct our discussions with the utmost discretion.
I took the liberty of checking on your sister before I left London. She seemed to be in good health physically, and her spirits were somewhat improved as well. I was able to coax her into playing a simple tune on the piano, and she even smiled briefly at me.
Should you have any further instructions or preferences regarding our upcoming meeting, I would appreciate you informing me before my arrival. I shall be stopping at the White Hart inn this evening to break my journey, as I cannot leave until this evening.
I remain, Mr. Darcy, at your service and disposal.
Yours faithfully,
Dr. Carson
Darcy breathed a sigh of relief and quickly walked back to Netherfield. He entered the house and rapidly made his way up the stairs, darting past the open door to the breakfast room, praying he wouldn’t be seen.
Once safely in his chambers with the door closed, he said a quick prayer of thanks. The debacle from the prior night had yetto be resolved—or even discussed—and he had little desire to do so over breakfast alone with Miss Bingley.
Darcy’s valet had just finished tying his master’s cravat when a knock sounded. The manservant opened the door, then looked back at Darcy. “Mr. Bingley, sir.”
