Tonight, however, the conflicts were yet to come. Word had been sent ahead, so the staff was awaiting the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Bingley with instructions to prepare for a small dinner party that night. Caroline had readily transferred from the Hurst townhouse on the fringes of Mayfair at Bedford Square as soon as she knew her brother was expected, the past six months of living with her sister and brother-in-law having been a torture of boredom and exile to her way of thinking.

Caroline's dismay at losing Mr. Darcy had been acute. Until the very moment the actual vows had been recited, Caroline had harbored a frantic hope that the bewitched Darcy would come to his senses. She had so endlessly badgered Charles to talk sense to “the poor man” that even her infectiously amiable brother had snapped impatiently, begging her to desist at threat of strangulation. Mr. Darcy had not been safe from her barbs and embarrassingly forward advances either. The situation had become increasingly awkward, culminating with a horrid episode three weeks after the engagements had been declared.

Within days of the joint Bingley and Darcy betrothals, Caroline had arrived unannounced to Netherfield, ostensibly to congratulate her brother. However, it rapidly became clear that her true intent was to sway Darcy away from his “horrible mistake.” The fact that an honorable gentleman could not withdraw an offer of marriage once rendered did not seem to penetrate her consciousness. Mr. Bingley was distressed and Darcy extremely uncomfortable, but mostly they were both angry at her thinly veiled insults directed to both Bennet women.

Darcy's patience was at its end on the day Caroline accosted him in the library. On the day in question, he stood beside a bookcase picking a volume of poems he conjectured Elizabeth would appreciate, when Caroline entered.

He looked up and frowned slightly but bowed properly. “Miss Bingley.” He took a step toward the exit, but she swiftly crossed to block his path, drawing near.

“Mr. Darcy, I was wondering if you could assist me. I was searching for a copy of Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew. Do you know if there is one housed here at Netherfield?”

Darcy strongly suspected she was fabricating an excuse to detain him, as she was not much of a reader, but he indicated the shelf of Shakespeare's works. “I believe there is a copy in the collection.” He walked to the case primarily to place distance rather than any desire to serve. He retrieved the book she asked for, turning to hand it to her, only to discover she had trailed and was less than a foot away from his body. He flinched and stepped back, encountering the impenetrable bookcase. “Pardon me, Miss Bingley.”

She moved even closer and reached for the proffered volume, fingers firmly caressing over his. Leaning forward until her bosom brushed his hand and gazing upward through her lashes, she said in a throaty voice, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. You are the soul of kindness. Is there any way I can express my thanks?”

Darcy was furious. He sidestepped so abruptly that Caroline pitched into the case. Drawing stiffly to his considerable height, he gifted Caroline with the full intensity of the Darcy glower and with a brusque bow excused himself, voice cold as ice. By the end of the day, Caroline was bundled off to London to join her sister on their trip to Bath. Jane and Elizabeth were not informed of the truth, as their private relief to have the troublesome Miss Bingley gone overrode any curiosity.

Bingley's sisters had come for the wedding, naturally, but they arrived only the day before, permitting Darcy to ignore Caroline. Now, after all the time which had passed, Darcy no longer fostered any residual anger but instead pitied Caroline. As with many issues these days, his happiness was so profound that his heart simply did not have space for ill feelings.

Darcy was in good humor when they appeared at the Bingley townhouse. Elizabeth was well, the past two days being very good ones for her, and the birthday plans were all set to his satisfaction. The girls, even Mary, were in high spirits at the prospect of shopping and adventures, and their giddiness infected the elder Darcys. None of them knew that Miss Bingley was joining them, but it would not have dampened their spirits.

Caroline stood regally on the staircase landing, having carefully dressed herself in a stunning gown that displayed her fine figure to its full advantage. It was too late to secure Mr. Darcy for herself, but she intended to show him what he had tossed over for the skinny country chit. Imagine her consternation, evidence by a blanched face and visible dropped jaw, when Lizzy breezed in on her husband's arm wearing a divine, fashionable gown of gold crepe, the bodice of which barely contained a far fuller bosom than Caroline recalled. Her hair was stupendous, with a set of fabulous pearl and diamond clips, the strand of Darcy pearls about her neck, and an exquisite shawl of Japanese silk. She positively glowed, as did Mr. Darcy in a way Caroline had never witnessed, and the casual, unconscious way his hands lingered and caressed Elizabeth's bare shoulders as he removed her shawl brought a flush to Caroline's pale cheeks.

None of them noticed her for a time, the greetings proceeding as if it had been months instead of three days. Finally, it was Georgiana who glanced upwards.

“Miss Bingley!”

All eyes immediately raised, a moment of silence descending. Caroline recovered her composure, gliding gracefully down the stairs. She delighted in the sensation of all eyes on her—as it should be, to her way of thinking. Then, with a stab of irritation, she noted that Darcy's gaze touched her for less than a second before moving away to the footman patiently waiting to take Elizabeth's shawl.

Elizabeth was smiling pleasantly. “Miss Bingley, what an unexpected delight. Mr. Darcy and I did not realize you would be joining us. Pray, how have you been?”

“I am quite well, Mrs. Darcy, thank you. You are the same I trust?”

Lizzy laughed. “I believe I am better than well, actually, at least for the moment. Let us pray it continues.”

Darcy was studying his wife with a small smile on his lips, a hand lightly resting on the small of her back. Jane laughed softly at Lizzy's words, although Caroline did not comprehend why. Not exerting the effort to puzzle it out, she turned her attention to Darcy.

“Mr. Darcy, it is a pleasure to see you. Are you ‘better than well’ also?”

He met her eyes and inclined his head. “Miss Bingley, I am excellent. I daresay the best I have been in my entire life.” Before finishing his earnest little speech, his eyes had returned to his wife, ignoring Caroline.

Mr. Bingley chimed in with a call to the parlor until dinner was served. The gentlemen stayed close to their wives, chatting casually. Caroline was reintroduced to Lizzy's sisters. Mary, as typical, stood apart, awed and intimidated by Bingley's sister. Kitty could not stop staring. Ever since the insertion of Bingley and Darcy to the Bennet household, Kitty had been inundated and captivated by finery and grandeur of all sorts. Caroline found herself near Georgiana, surreptitiously observing Darcy nearly as giddy as her ridiculous brother.

“Miss Bingley,” Georgiana began shyly, “your gown is lovely. I do not believe I would ever have the courage to wear that shade, but it so becomes you.”

“Thank you, Miss Darcy. Proper fashion is a fine art. You are young still and need not yet worry too greatly, although I daresay your debut is rapidly approaching. It is a shame that you have no one to assist with the necessary requirements of society. Men certainly do not apprehend the nuances of stylish dress and feminine exigency.”

Georgiana blushed. “Well, there is an amazing French modiste in Lambton, and while we are here, Elizabeth and I will be having new gowns created by Madame Millicent and Frau Braun. My brother insists. Elizabeth needs new gowns, although I surely do not.”

“It is fortunate that you have traveled to Town, if Mrs. Darcy needs new gowns. I suppose she has resisted deserting the comfortable and simple clothing she has always been familiar with.”

Georgiana frowned. “No, it is not—” but she was interrupted when the footman announced dinner.

“Lizzy,” Jane said as they sat, “you must immediately speak if any of the dishes disturb you.”

“Thank you, Jane dear. I will be fine. These past two days have been blessedly free of any major discomfort.”

“Have you been ill, Mrs. Darcy?” Caroline asked.

“Nothing that will not improve in time, Miss Bingley.”

“Bingley,” Darcy spoke, “my steward sent me the information I requested on the Hasberry Estate. I brought it with me for you to peruse at your leisure. I do hope you will give it some consideration.”

“It is a lovely piece of land, Charles,” Lizzy interjected. “William took me to see it before we left. I believe my devious husband was ensuring my ‘yea’ vote and entrusting me to whisper in Jane's ear.”

Darcy smiled. “Do not be ridiculous, Elizabeth. Bingley is a grown man and will make his own decision. We all know that wives have no influence over their husbands.”

Lizzy and Mr. Bingley laughed out loud, and Darcy winked at Jane. Caroline could not believe her eyes or ears. Darcy jesting! Unfathomable.

“Yes, yes, of course dear,” Lizzy said, patting her husband's hand, “this is why it is fortunate that Charles and Jane will be visiting later in the summer. You can drag Mr. Bingley to Hasberry while we weak minded women stay home and knit.”

“Charles, are you seriously contemplating relocating to Derbyshire?” Caroline asked as she smiled winsomely at Mr. Darcy, who was not looking at her, but smiling at his wife. “It is beautiful there. I have always adored the Peak District.”