Better Than She Deserved

by Leenie Brown

  He sighed again before stepping into the ornately decorated drawing room and the den of ravenous chaperones who saw his looks and demeanor to some extent but looked more to his bank accounts than his person. And, well, his accounts were very handsome. He smiled.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Whimple. Both you and your charge are looking fetching this evening,” Rhett greeted a grey-haired lady with a round figure and a friendly face. The young lady standing next to her, blushed as she had likely been schooled to do in the presence of a gentleman.

  “Charlotte is a gem, but then, I am rather partial to her.” Mrs. Whimple pushed the girl she was so fond of forward. “Charlotte, this is Mr. Rhett. Mr. Rhett, my niece, Miss Whimple.”

  “A pleasure to meet you.” Rhett did what was proper and bowed over the hand the chit had extended to him. “I trust you are finding Burton Hall to your liking? It is a grand home and well-furnished.”

  “It is a lovely home, and our room is very comfortable.” Charlotte Whimple smiled, looked down, and then peered up at him from under her lashes as she replied.

  It was a ploy Rhett found particularly off-putting. It was supposed to display demureness, but to him, it signalled a lady who was rather scheming. Of course, that was the reason he had come to speak with her in the first place.

  “I am glad to hear it,” Rhett responded and would have made inquiries about their travel and other such useless pleasantries that were required by polite society had not a flutter of green fabric caught his eye.

  “That is Miss Bingley.” Mrs. Whimple’s tone was cool.

  “Yes, I know,” Rhett replied. “Her brother-in-law is a friend of mine.”

  “So then, you know she is from trade?” There was no mistaking the derisiveness of the comment.

  “Yes, I do,” Rhett assured the lady. “And I hear her brother has virtually cut her off.” He smiled at Mrs. Whimple’s gasp. “It seems Mr. Bingley found a wife, and his sister did not approve of his choice. But then, Miss Bingley is a rather exacting female, is she not?”

  “Oh, I should say so,” said Miss Whimple. “She turns up her nose at so many gentlemen.” The young lady made a small incredulous laughing sound. “As if one with family connections such as she has could be so choosy.”

  “Indeed,” Rhett managed to reply politely. He would rather have reminded the chit, whose nose was not precisely pointing downwards, that he himself had come into his current wealthy state due to relations in trade. However, he had other plans which would be aided by a shrewish gossip. “I wonder if all the gents know of her familial connections or if they only know she is an heiress? She does have twenty thousand pounds, and that can be very persuasive to a man, unlike myself, who is perhaps a little short in the pockets.”

  “I am certain they could be made aware,” said Mrs. Whimple, her delightfully pleasant smile running contrary to the calculating suggestion of her comment.

  “It would perhaps save a fellow or two from falling into the wrong situation, do you not think?” Rhett returned her smile as he asked the question. Indeed, he did wish to ensure that Caroline did not fall into any situation with any other fellow but not for the reason Miss Whimple or her aunt was likely thinking. “It might even be worth a walk around the garden after dinner has concluded. I have it on good authority from Mr. Hadaway that such a thing may indeed be possible this evening before the instrument is opened and the music begins.”

  Mrs. Whimple’s brow rose. “I shall see it done, and you may claim Charlotte for a stroll.”

  Rhett gave her a slight bow and his thanks before crossing the room to greet Hurst.

  Chapter 3

  “Twenty thousand,” Mr. Thomas whispered to Mr. Stark. “However, there is not a drop of gentleman’s blood in her veins, and,” he lowered his voice even further, “I hear she is a bit of a harridan. Her brother has cut her off because she was so disagreeable about his choice of bride.” Mr. Thomas shook his head. “Tis a pity what with her twenty thousand and her figure.”

  Rhett smiled and drained the last of the port from his glass. Mrs. Whimple had wasted no time in spreading the news of Caroline to her niece’s dinner companion.

  “Is that true, Hurst? Has Bingley cut her off?” Mr. Stark, who was not the softest spoken man at the best of times and an even less soft spoken man at times such as this when he had consumed more port than he likely should have, called across the table to where Hurst sat next to Rhett.

  “Aye,” Hurst replied. “Foisted her off on me, so if anyone is looking for twenty thousand pounds, it is yours for the asking and the sooner, the better. I do not relish having to put up with her theatrics. I’ll even toss in an extra five thousand if you take her before the end of the party. Compromise her. Steal her away to Gretna Green. It matters not to me how it is done, just that it is.”

  Rhett’s brows rose. He knew that Hurst had agreed to play the part of displeased guardian of a troublesome sister, but it did seem he was going a wee bit over the top with his acting. Well, Rhett thought as he refilled his glass, perhaps it was not all acting. He knew Hurst did not get on well with his wife’s younger sister because Caroline held far too much confidence in herself and bent Louisa to her will on a regular basis — even if that will was against Hurst’s desires. However, in Rhett’s opinion, if either Bingley or Hurst had bothered to check the girl before now, perhaps she would not need the lesson he was attempting to teach her. She would be the proper chit she was supposed to be instead of the troublesome, egotistical lady she was.

  He swirled his drink as the conversation about the ladies in attendance swirled about the room. Caroline had not always been as she was now. He had met her first, many years ago when she was just a child, and he not yet a man. It had been shortly after her mother had died if he remembered correctly.

  She had arrived in Manchester to stay with her aunt, and he had been accompanying his father on a business matter. She had smiled at him and thanked him when he held the door for her as she entered the shop. And he had, much to his father’s displeasure, paid more attention to the young fairy-like girl with the copper curls and large brown eyes who was engaging a shop girl in a conversation than he had to what his father wished him to learn. He did not remember what Caroline had been speaking to the shop girl about, nor did it matter.

  It was the way Caroline had treated the girl, for Caroline had not approached her as if the girl was a servant but as if she were deserving of respect. He had never forgotten that image. It was what he wished for in a wife. He had known it to some extent then and even more fully now. Caroline’s nature was not that of a harridan. He took a sip of his drink. Not at her core anyway. The molding of that respectful, pleasant child into the woman Caroline now was the result of her aunt’s training no doubt, for Caroline’s aunt was not well-known in Manchester for her charity but rather her lack of that particular quality.

  “Would it be an easy feat to compromise her, Hurst?”

  Rhett rolled his eyes. Stark was still at it. Did the man have any idea of what proper decorum was?

  Hurst shrugged. “She has been tossing herself at Darcy for two years. If your coffers are full, and your estate is half what Darcy’s is, it should not be too difficult.”

  Rhett kicked Hurst’s leg lightly under the table and raised a brow at him. Did he really wish for someone like Stark attempting to compromise Caroline? The man was known to be low on funds, and any money that would come to him would be mismanaged. To Rhett, there was no greater sign of weak character than a man who mismanaged his funds.

  “All will be well,” Hurst whispered, leaning toward Rhett. “She would not allow so much as a kiss unless an estate is three-quarters what Pemberley is.” He smirked. “Besides, we did wish to give her a taste of what she has done to others, did we not?”

  Rhett sighed and nodded. “She already threw herself into my arms this afternoon.” He smiled as Hurst sputtered on his drink. “Her attitude may be frosty, but her body is not,” he added with a lifted brow and a wicked
grin.

  Hurst was looking at him with wide eyes.

  Rhett shrugged in response. “All will be well, will it not?” he asked softly before raising his voice again and adding. “I would marry her myself as I am always looking to increase my coffers,” he picked a piece of lint from his sleeve, “not that my coffers are not already full.” He smiled and took a sip of his beverage. “However, I do not have an estate,” he sighed. “So, I shall just have to sample the wares and not purchase.”

  “You will both purchase a wife and an estate if you are going to sample Caroline’s wares,” Hurst muttered.

  Again, Rhett shrugged. “If you have a lead on an estate, then I might be willing to arrange a compromise unless one of you other gents would prefer to fill the role? We could play for the chance or some such thing.”

  Hurt shook his head and began to lift his glass to his lips. However, the glass never reached his mouth for it stopped in mid air as his mouth dropped open and then slid into a pleased smile. He knew precisely the estate Rhett should purchase for it would take care of two issues in one fell swoop. Bingley would be released from his lease, and Caroline would, for years to come, feel a portion of the discomfort she had caused for himself and Bingley. He lowered his glass and tipped his head as he looked at Rhett. “I know just the place.”

  ~*~*~

  Two and a half hours later, as the end of the intermission between musical performances was ending, Caroline returned to her seat next to Louisa and Hurst. The chair next to her was vacant. Mr. Pritchard had occupied it for the first half of the performances, but just moments ago, after having visited the refreshment table in the dining room, Mr. Pritchard had returned and made his excuses. There was a matter to which he needed to attend and would likely not be returned before the beginning of the first song, and since it would be rude to distract one and all with a late arrival, he would stand at the back once he rejoined the festivities. All this Caroline explained in hushed tones to her sister.

  “That is most odd,” said Louisa. “He has yet to quit the room.”

  Indeed, Mr. Pritchard was smiling and nodding at something Miss Wallace was saying and did not look as if he were in any hurry to end the conversation.

  Caroline shrugged. “I cannot understand it.” In her mind, she went over her interactions with the gentleman. There was nothing that she had done or said that should have been off-putting. She watched as Mr. Pritchard took a seat next to Miss Wallace, and Miss Wallace, seeing Caroline watching, raised a brow and smiled at her.

  “You are certain this estate is not worth the pain of a trying mother?” Caroline asked her sister with a sad smile.

  Louisa patted her hand. “All will be well. I will not have you here. It simply would not do.”

  Caroline allowed the matter to drop and prepared to listen to the upcoming performances.

  “I can understand it,” Miss Whimple said in a carrying whisper to Miss Blevins. “One does not rise from the mire of trade in one jump. Her goals are far too lofty for one of her station. Did you ever see the way she threw herself into the path of Mr. Darcy.” Miss Whimple tittered as Caroline gasped. “Despicable. As if she had a chance of securing such a man. So grasping.”

  Caroline’s eyes narrowed, and she turned to face her attacker despite Louisa’s attempts to keep her from doing so. “I have far more to offer a gentleman than you,” she snapped. “You have what? Three thousand pounds and,” she let her eyes sweep up and down Miss Whimple, “a plump figure that shall only grow fatter with childbearing?”

  Miss Whimple’s face grew red. “My father has an estate.”

  Caroline shrugged. “For now, until the creditors will no longer extend him grace. Do not think that I have not heard of his unfortunate propensities to gamble and keep a stable of mistresses. However, since you do take after your mother in looks, I find I cannot entirely fault him for his pastimes. It will likely be the same with whomever you finally snare.”

  Miss Whimple sputtered and was clearly unable to speak a word in her own defense, but Miss Blevins’ tongue was not tied, and so she rose to the defense of her friend. “At least, her husband will know he is marrying a maiden. The same cannot be said about you.” She turned to her friend. “Did you hear that Miss Bingley threw herself into the arms of a gentleman already. I dare say her skirts are not heavy.” She shot a smug grin at Caroline. “But what do you expect from one of her lot?”

  “I did no such thing!” Caroline declared.

  “I beg your pardon,” said Rhett. “Is this seat taken?” He had stood just a short distance away and listened to the full conversation. It seemed Stark who had walked out in the garden with Miss Blevins had done his job quite proficiently.

  “Mr. Rhett,” Miss Whimple smiled sweetly at him. “There is room here. Miss Blevins can move over, and you can sit between us.”

  “A lovely offer, I am sure,” he replied with a smile. “However, I should like to sit here with Miss Bingley if she will allow it. Hurst,” he called down the row, “since Pritchard is otherwise entertained, you do not mind if I sit with your sister, do you?”

  Caroline’s mouth dropped open. He did not need Hurst’s permission, nor did he need to ask it in such a loud voice as if he was attempting to draw attention to himself and the fact that her partner had left her.

  “No, no,” Hurst assured him. “I do not mind in the least.”

  “Good.” Rhett unbuttoned his jacket and took a seat next to Caroline.

  “She is beneath him,” Miss Blevins whispered to Miss Whimple.

  Rhett turned his head in Miss Blevins’ direction. “Not yet,” he whispered with a wink, “but the night is young.” He nearly laughed at the look of shock on the faces of the ladies behind him, and the look of horror on Miss Bingley’s face required a firm bite to his cheeks to keep from snorting. If he were a betting man, which he was when the odds were in his favor, he would place ten pounds on the fact that his comment had earned him what he sought — a private audience with a lady whose prospects of making a good match were quickly dwindling to just one man — him.

  Chapter 4

  Caroline fidgeted with her fan and tapped her foot throughout the full half hour of performances. Then, when it was over, she rose quickly, gave a mumbled word of goodnight to Mr. Rhett, and pleaded with Louisa to see her to her room. She was not lying when she claimed a headache. Her head was throbbing, and her stomach was turning in unsettling twisting circles. The whispers had not stopped behind her. She had heard her name at least three times and several sniggers. And then, there was Mr. Rhett who kept smiling at her in the most teasing fashion as his knee often bumped hers and his hand brushed her thigh when he shifted position during Miss Morgan’s dreadful rendition of some indecipherable song.

  Louisa readily acquiesced to Caroline’s pleas, but Hurst stood in their path.

  “I believe a bit of fresh air would be just the thing,” he said. “One short stroll in the garden, then, a bit of watered wine and bed. It will work like a charm. You will be feeling in fine fettle by the time the sun rises.” He lifted a brow and gave Caroline a firm glare as she opened her mouth to protest.

  Caroline clamped her lips closed and scowled.

  “Rhett, you will join us, will you not?” Hurst continued.

  Caroline shook her head slightly and formed the word no silently, but to no avail. Her brother was not to be moved from his position.

  “I should like nothing better,” Rhett replied. “It shall give me some time to get acquainted with Miss Bingley.”

  Caroline’s eyes narrowed. She had no desire to spend another moment with a man who had implied that she was the sort of lady to be easily seduced, and she began to say as much until Hurst cleared his throat and gave her another stern look. She drew and released a slow breath. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Rhett,” she said with a tight smile.

  “Excellent,” said Hurst. Taking his wife’s hand and placing it on his arm, he moved out of the row of chairs and began making his way
to the garden just as several other couples and chaperones were doing.

  “You have had a full card of gentlemen attending you this evening,” Rhett began. “First Mr. Hadaway at dinner — now that is an honor to be seated with your host on first arrival. Then Mr. Thompson to escort you about the garden — he is a fine catch, I hear. And half a concert with Mr. Pritchard — lovely estate he has. And then me — my fortune is large, and I am a handsome devil.”

  Caroline’s mouth dropped open and then snapped shut. Such arrogance!

  “And it seems you are pretty and rich enough for the other ladies to already be attempting to throw you over,” he continued. He watched her hand come up to her lips, and her finger began a tapping pattern. “I dare say I do not know why Mr. Pritchard would leave you for that Miss Wallace with the ears that stick out.” He shook his head when she looked up at him in shock. “They make her look like a mouse.”

  “You are very rude, sir.”

  “Am I? Is this not how the matchmaking game is played in polite society?” His voice dripped with disdain. “Do not we go about telling stories and pointing out the conquests as well as the faults of others? I had thought you would be aware of this. You always seem to have some bit of something to whisper to your sister or a friend when at the soirees in town.”

  Caroline’s brows furrowed. “How do you know what I do in town?”

  He shrugged. “I watch people. There are those matrons who will welcome me due to my wealth and will allow me to dance with their charges, but then there are those, such as yourself, who lift their noses and walk the opposite direction because my money does not come from the possession of land.”

  Caroline sucked in a breath. Mr. Pritchard had been speaking to Mr. Rhett just before exiting the refreshments room. She had seen them in earnest conversation. “You told him something to make him not like me,” she accused.

  “I am sorry. I do not follow.” He was confident he knew what she was muttering about, but it was always best to get clarification before coming to a definite conclusion. He led her off the main path and down toward a small pavilion in a more secluded section of the garden.