Page 59 of Miss Bingley’s Return

“No more than I am.”

Chapter XIV

It was not a question of whether Caroline would recover. It was how much dignity it would cost her before she acknowledged the truth.

“Caroline is resilient,” said Gerald, not bothered by last night’s setback. “Trust me, Louisa—she will have pivoted by the time she makes her way down for breakfast.”

“I have no concern about Caroline’s ability to redirect,” said Louisa. “Yet I am not convinced that she will accept this defeat at once. If she persists, she may humiliate herself.”

“Whatever else Caroline is, she is not deficient.” Gerald’s expression turned feral, then he shrugged. “At least, she is not deficient when it pertains to intelligence, though I could mention some of her other qualities that I do not quite like. But she is eminently practical. Now that she has failed with Bingley, she will claim all she wanted was his happiness, then she will focus her attention back on Darcy.”

Louisa could not suppress the huff of disdain. “Little good that will do her. Perhaps she has been too busy to know what has been happening between Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth, but I have not been so blind.”

“Just so,” said Gerald, too gleeful for Louisa’s liking.

She did not disagree with her husband—Caroline had become so grasping that taking her confidence down a notch would do her no harm. But it would not do for Caroline to see Gerald display such sentiments, for she would not appreciate it at all.

“What do you suppose she will do when she learns Darcy is no longer an option?”

Louisa considered the question. “Unless I am mistaken, you do not expect her to erupt in rage.”

“No, I do not,” replied Gerald. “Remember who we are dealing with, Louisa. Caroline knows that your brother’s friendship with Darcy is what provides her with entrance into a higher set than she would otherwise inhabit. Though disappointed, and perhaps angry, the paramount necessity to preserve that connection and the benefits it affords will prevent her from making any serious social errors.”

“Then she will accept it, at least on the surface.” Louisa sighed, understanding her husband’s point. “She may still make catty comments designed to show her displeasure, but nothing that Mr. Darcy would act on.”

“Those would be inevitable, regardless,” said Gerald wryly. “That is Caroline, and no mistake.”

“Then I suppose my role will be to watch her for any hint that our assumptions are incorrect, and intervene if necessary.”

“It will not be necessary, but watch her by all means.”

Though a little earlier than Louisa expected, Caroline descended for breakfast that morning, showing a mask of determination. Gerald and Louisa had lingered over coffee, and were present when Caroline breezed into the room.

“Louisa, Gerald,” said she as she went to the sideboard and fixed herself a plate.

“Caroline,” greeted Louisa, wondering what her sister would do.

A moment later, she joined them at the table, and set to her breakfast with a will. They sat in silence, Gerald amused but watchful while Caroline sated her immediate hunger.

“Where is Charles?” asked Caroline, though in a tone that lacked curiosity.

“Charles left early this morning,” replied Louisa. “He did not say where he was going.”

Though she did not like it, only one who knew her well could have detected the distaste in her apparent apathy. “It is unfortunate that he elected to act against our advice.”

“Our advice?” asked Louisa, sharing a look with her husband.

“Miss Whitcombe,” said Caroline. “I have tried to guide him to a suitable prospect, but he persists. Last night ended any hope of directing him to a gentlewoman.”

Surprised at Caroline’s candor, Louisa considered how best to answer. Her knowledge of her sister suggested Caroline would ignore last night altogether—before anyone other than Louisa, she would do just that, perhaps spin some tale about her concern for Charles’s peace of mind or her understanding of her brother’s indecision. She would also embrace Clara again, speak of how she would do well, put the best face on a situation she found distasteful.

“To own the truth,” said Hurst before Louisa could speak, “I suspect any hope of directing him ended months ago.”

“I have no notion of your meaning,” sniffed Caroline with disdain. “Until Charles made his unfortunate choice, I was convinced that I could still reach him.”

“Then you were not seeing things as they were,” said Gerald, his usual bluntness making the comment seem terse. “You never guided Bingley to his future, Caroline. You forced him to declare it.”

Caroline did not like the comment—that much was clear. For a moment, she was silent. Then she ignored the subject altogether, more in keeping with what Louisa might have expected from the beginning.