Page 206 of What Change Entails

“No. But Caroline is my sister.”

“Then you must decide what that requires of you.”

Bingley absorbed the words with a wince. Darcy had no wish to wound him, but neither had he patience for softening plain truth. They had both permitted Miss Bingley too much latitude, each for his own reasons. Darcy had mistaken civility for harmlessness. Bingley had mistaken affection for blindness.

Enough.

Georgiana moved nearer. “There is more.”

Darcy braced himself.

“I do not wish Miss Bingley to remain at Pemberley,” Georgiana reminded him.

The sentence was simple, but his sister stood straighter after saying it, pale and nervous and determined not to retreat. She had said it before, but there was force behind her words now.

He put one hand over Georgiana’s clasped fingers. “Then she shall not,” Darcy agreed once more. “I had already determined this must be Miss Bingley’s final visit, but I am glad you told me plainly.”

Georgiana released a breath that seemed to have been held for days.

Mrs. Hurst rose with more agitation than grace. “Mr. Darcy, Caroline has behaved badly. I cannot deny it. But surely tonight—”

“Tonight she remains in her room,” Darcy said. “Tomorrow, she will go North.”

Mrs. Hurst’s lips parted. No argument emerged.

“Bingley,” Darcy continued, “I will not ask you to choose between your sister and your friend. I will say that Miss Bingley is no longer welcome at Pemberley.”

Bingley gave a short nod. “I understand.”

Mr. Hurst cleared his throat from near the sideboard. “Might leave with her.”

Everyone turned.

He blinked back at them. “Louisa and I. Simpler. The lame horse’s replacement is here, and there is no further cause to delay.”

Mrs. Hurst sank back into her chair as if her husband had, for once, offered a contribution of such usefulness that she could not decide whether to be grateful or alarmed.

Bingley looked between Darcy and Hurst. “I will speak with Caroline.”

“Not now,” Darcy said. His departure and the lame horse had delayed the lady leaving, but both were now resolved.

“No?”

“No.”

Darcy crossed to the bellpull and rang.

The footman came quickly, perhaps having waited nearby after hearing uneven voices from within.

“Send Brisby to my dressing room. Have fresh clothes prepared. Tell Morton I require a horse ready within half an hour.”

The footman hesitated. “Tonight, sir?”

“Yes.”

Georgiana stepped forward. “Fitzwilliam, the rain—”

“I have ridden in rain before.”