My Cousin Caroline: The acclaimed Pride and Prejudice sequel series The Pemberley Chronicles Book 6

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  “I was afraid you may well berate me for taking advantage of her innocence and youth. I remember how furious you were with Wickham when he tried…” but Darcy interrupted him abruptly.

  “The man was a villain, Fitzwilliam, a blackguard who was using my sister's innocence for his own ends to be revenged upon me and enrich himself. There is no comparison!” His anger at the recollection was obvious.

  “Nevertheless, I feared your censure and Elizabeth's. I am almost thirty-three years old. Caroline is just fifteen. I feared most of all that a premature revelation might mean that I would lose her altogether.”

  Darcy could see how deeply his cousin's feelings were engaged. He experienced some degree of surprise, for while he had known Fitzwilliam to be passionate about politics, he had never seen him similarly committed in love.

  “What do you intend to do now?” he asked, feeling much sympathy for him in his present predicament.

  Imagine then his astonishment, when Fitzwilliam replied quietly, “It is done already, Darcy. I could no longer bear the uncertainty, nor could I continue to deceive the Gardiners, who have been exceedingly kind and hospitable to me. It would have been unthinkable that I sign up to a partnership with Mr Gardiner, as we have agreed, without acquainting him with my feelings for Caroline.

  “A week ago, while Caroline was at Pemberley, I called on Mr and Mrs Gardiner and told them everything that I have told you. I placed myself in their hands; I gave them my word that I would do nothing, tell no one, not even Caroline, unless and until they had given me permission to speak. I asked for no marriage settlement, Darcy, proposing instead to settle the entire sum left to me, by my mother, upon Caroline when we are engaged, so she may have her own allowance, and despite my yearning for her, I have promised that we shall wait to be married until she is sixteen.”

  Darcy was silent. His cousin had astonished him; never in all their acquaintance had he known Fitzwilliam to be so determined and to act in such a decisive manner. Previously, in matters of the heart, he had been notoriously dilatory and irresolute, unwilling to take the first step. This time, clearly he was irrevocably in love.

  “What did they say?” he asked and before he answered, Fitzwilliam said, “I told them also, as I tell you, Darcy, that while I have felt a passing fancy for two or three young women in my time, never have I loved anyone as deeply and with such pure affection as I do Caroline.”

  Darcy felt for his cousin, understanding how he must have suffered.

  “Does she know of your feelings?” he asked.

  Fitzwilliam looked somewhat disconsolate. “I pleaded with them to let me tell her, because I knew how much it would please her, but both Mr and Mrs Gardiner wished me to wait awhile. They are understandably cautious, Darcy; Caroline is very precious to them and they are concerned that, at such a tender age, she may not know her own mind, or being swept away by her feelings, may make the wrong decision. However, they have assured me of their affection and regard, commending my discretion and the honesty of my approach to them.”

  Darcy was impatient to discover more. “And when will they give you their answer?”

  “I am to call on them on Sunday. Darcy my dear fellow, I can only ask that you wish me the very best of luck, for I love her dearly and should they refuse me, it would be a most devastating blow!”

  Having spent some time reassuring his cousin and promising, if applied to by Mr Gardiner, to give him the best recommendation ever as a prospective son-in-law, Darcy left Matlock to make the journey of some twenty-five miles to Ashford Park, where Elizabeth and Jane awaited his return, eager for news. He looked forward to seeing Elizabeth's face when he told her of the success of his meeting with Fitzwilliam.

  The two sisters had waited all afternoon for Mr Darcy's return, having gravely discussed the situation in which their cousin Caroline and Colonel Fitzwilliam were placed. No strangers to the vicissitudes of love and courtship, both Jane and Elizabeth had much sympathy for their cousin. They hoped Mr Darcy would arrive with good news, and they were not disappointed.

  Glad to be able to assure them that there was no bad news in store and indeed, by Sunday, they may have some very good news, Mr Darcy concluded one of the most delicate missions he had ever been called upon to undertake.

  When it was all explained, Mr Bingley, who had hitherto not been privy to the matter, expressed both amazement and pleasure at the new development, while Jane was completely delighted. She had been the first to sense the romance and was happy to learn that the situation was as she had hoped it would be. Her gentle, affectionate heart was finally satisfied.

  Elizabeth was very proud of her husband's efforts. As they journeyed home that night, he was anxious for her approval and she made her appreciation very clear.

  “You did very well indeed, my love, I am pleased and relieved that the matter is now in the hands of my uncle and aunt Gardiner. They will do what is best for Caroline and I hope it will make us all happy. I shall never forget your kindness and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  By prior arrangement with their mother, Caroline and Emily were invited to spend the day at Pemberley on the following Sunday, while unbeknownst to them, Colonel Fitzwilliam journeyed to Oakleigh to keep his appointment with their parents.

  The Gardiners greeted him cordially and plied him with refreshments before Mrs Gardiner left the room, leaving the two men together. Then, with carefully chosen words, Caroline's father explained how very dear she was to them and with what deep concern they would view any proposal for her hand in marriage, especially at such a tender age.

  “Caroline is a very special person, Colonel Fitzwilliam, as you no doubt have realised. She is affectionate and kind, even to the point of being an incurable romantic, but she is also strong, loyal, and has the highest principles Mrs Gardiner and I could teach her.”

  He was at pains to explain that his daughter would never marry for mercenary reasons.

  “Neither money nor social status can influence her. She is well provided for, and though I am not by any means a rich man, none of my children will be in want when I am gone. I have ensured that, and they, especially Caroline and Richard, are aware of it, which does mean she has no need to marry in order to keep the wolf from the door, so to speak.”

  As Fitzwilliam listened, he went on, “She does, however, value sincerity and genuine goodness, as we do. Mrs Gardiner believes that Caroline has appreciated what is estimable in your character—she has gathered this in her conversations with her, and of course, Mr Darcy, for whom we both have the highest regard, speaks exceedingly well of you.”

  Seeing Fitzwilliam's countenance lighten, as he silently thanked his cousin for his support, Mr Gardiner added, “I have not consulted Mr Darcy about your proposal of marriage, but his recommendation of you for a partnership in the business was of the highest order; I cannot imagine that it would be any different in this instance. Furthermore, when I first knew you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, I judged you to be a man of honour and good character; nothing in my own observation of you since your return from the East has caused me to doubt that earlier judgment.”

  As the colonel bowed to acknowledge his kind words, Mr Gardiner continued, “However, you will accept, I am sure, that when it comes to giving our dear Caroline in marriage, I am entitled to be particularly careful. She is the jewel in our family. Which is why, knowing you to be a gentleman I can trust, I have placed a few conditions upon you, which if you are willing to fulfill, you may speak to Caroline of your proposal. Should she accept you, as I believe she may, you shall certainly have my blessing.”

  Fitzwilliam could not keep from smiling, so great was his delight, as he asked, a little impatiently, what the conditions were that Mr Gardiner had laid down for him.

  When told they could become engaged but would have to wait until Caroline was sixteen before they could marry, and that Caroline, who would receive from her father a portion of shares in the company, be permitted to hold them in trust as her own prope
rty, Fitzwilliam had no hesitation in agreeing.

  The matter being amicably settled, the two men partook of a quiet drink together before the colonel, still smiling, left for Pemberley.

  After a very pleasant day, spent mostly walking in the grounds and reading in the library at Pemberley, Caroline and her sister Emily went upstairs to dress for dinner. When Elizabeth's maid Jenny came to say that Colonel Fitzwilliam had arrived and was in the sitting room with Mr Darcy, Elizabeth knew she had to prepare her cousin for what was to follow. Having avoided any mention of the colonel all day, it was time to reveal what had been in train, and when she did so, Caroline was most apprehensive.

  “Oh dear cousin Lizzie, do you think Mama would have been very angry?” she asked, but Elizabeth reassured her, reminding her that her mama was “one of the kindest and wisest persons I know.”

  Once downstairs, they were met in the hall by Mr Darcy.

  “Ah, Elizabeth, Caroline, there you are,” he said, adding a little lamely what they all knew already, “Fitzwilliam is here,” and though he said no more, Elizabeth judged from his countenance that all was well.

  Caroline, with a little encouragement from her cousin, composed herself and entered the saloon, where Fitzwilliam waited. He was standing by the window, looking out over the park; when they entered, he turned and came to greet them. First Elizabeth, whom he thanked with affection for her care and concern, and then Caroline, to whom he held out both hands in a manner that proclaimed openly for the first time, without inhibition or unease, the closeness of their relationship, and as Elizabeth watched, Caroline went willingly into his arms.

  Not wishing to intrude upon their happiness, Elizabeth slipped away to join her husband, who had earlier heard Fitzwilliam's account of his meeting with the Gardiners. She knew there would be no heartbreak for Caroline, but she hoped Darcy would enlighten her further and to this end, drew him away to another part of the house, where they could speak undisturbed.

  Of the lovers newly acknowledged, suffice it to say that tears were shed as he took her in his arms and told her of his love and her parents' blessing, but they were without exception tears of joy. The anxiety and apprehension of the last few months had disappeared in but a few moments, to be replaced by the hope of greater happiness to follow.

  Never in her young life had Caroline known such delight, nor imagined such bliss, as she now experienced. Unskilled at coquetry, unwilling to feign surprise, and unable to pretend, she confessed the full extent of her love for him, and the colonel, having kept his feelings under strict restraint for several weeks, could now, in the privacy afforded them at Pemberley, express with the deepest ardour and sincerity, the warm sentiments which Caroline had so wanted to hear and could promise to return in full measure.

  Like many brave lovers before them, but possibly with greater determination than most, they resolved then and there that their love would be so strong as to overcome every future adversity.

  THE CHILD OF A CONVENTIONALLY happy marriage with siblings to whom she had always been expected to set an example, Caroline Gardiner had carried upon her young shoulders a not inconsiderable weight of expectation.

  Seeing her cousins Jane and Elizabeth marry the men they loved, men whom her parents held in the highest esteem, Caroline had hoped, and indeed wished, that she too may one day meet such a man. Yet, she was aware that it was not common for gentlemen of honour and quality to be found wandering the dales of Derbyshire in search of eligible young women to wed.

  Since she had felt no particular interest in any of the young men of her acquaintance and her only male cousin was already spoken for, Caroline, though only fifteen, had begun to contemplate seriously the advantages of spinsterhood. The pleasures of her happy home and the love of devoted parents would not easily be exchanged for marriage, she had decided, unless it was to an exceptional man she could love without question. It was not, however, an option she ever canvassed with her mother or her cousins, who would have laughed her to scorn. Her general sweetness of temper, her accomplishments, and her beauty would certainly get her a good husband, they would have said. But Caroline was not so sure.

  The reappearance of Colonel Fitzwilliam after some three years in the Eastern colonies had changed all that, and despite the initial heartache and anxiety, Caroline's happiness was now so overwhelming as to be irresistible. Other members of the family seemed to “catch” it like children caught the measles. The Gardiners all appeared infected with the euphoria that surrounded Fitzwilliam and Caroline.

  Writing to her friend Charlotte Collins, Elizabeth expressed her astonishment at the phenomenon.

  My dear Charlotte,

  How I wish you could have been here with us at this time, although I do understand that Mr Collins's chaplaincy and parish responsibilities must be onerous and will, of necessity, keep him at Hunsford. If however you should have the opportunity to make the journey to Pemberley, you will see a most amazing transformation in two people of whom we are both quite fond.

  Let me first break the news.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr Darcy's cousin, is engaged to be married to my cousin, Caroline Gardiner. Now, Charlotte, before you accuse Mr Darcy and me of matchmaking, let me hasten to assure you that this couple had done all that themselves, before Darcy and I were even aware of their interest in one another. As you know, Colonel Fitzwilliam is recently home from the eastern colonies a more prosperous and energetic gentleman than when he left England three years ago.

  Having negotiated a partnership with my uncle Gardiner in his Commercial Trading Company, it seems Colonel Fitzwilliam has also discovered that a marriage partnership with their daughter Caroline was essential to his continued happiness and she likewise, having fallen in love with the colonel, the two are now engaged.

  Charlotte my dear, you may well berate me for my flippant tone, but do not accuse me of poking fun at these fortunate lovers, for I have certainly not forgotten the joys of courtship. However, I cannot believe that I, at any stage of my life, wandered around Meryton resembling a beacon, which is how one would describe my fair cousin and her Colonel, so clearly radiant are they with happiness. One cannot only be happy for them, one must surely pray that nothing will ever mar their joy.

  I believe Lady Catherine has been informed, by her nephew, of his engagement to my cousin. I wonder if she will ask them to Rosings; it is doubtful, seeing she holds my uncle's mode of earning an honest living as placing him beneath her notice.

  We are not going away at all this Winter, seeing as our second child is due before Christmas. Dear Charlotte, I must ask for your prayers for a safe and speedy delivery.

  Meanwhile, please look after yourself with great care until we meet again.

  Yours etc…

  Elizabeth Darcy

  While Elizabeth's attention was totally concentrated upon the child that was soon to arrive, Caroline found herself being drawn inevitably into Fitzwilliam's political career. It had opened up an entirely new world to her, and she was enjoying it immensely.

  Momentous changes were sweeping England, with the shocking consequences of economic depression apparent everywhere. Bankruptcies, evictions, and forced sales were a daily occurrence, and resentment grew among the dispossessed.

  In August of 1819, an incident took place that came to be written in the history books in the kind of ironic language usually reserved for satire.

  Some sixty thousand unarmed workers held a mass meeting at St Peters Field, near Manchester, and when the magistrates panicked and sent in sabre-wielding troops on horseback to attack and disperse them, killing eleven and wounding hundreds, millions around England and Europe were horrified by the savagery of the incident. Henceforth, in a parody of the Heroes of Waterloo, this action came to be called The Peterloo Massacre, soon becoming an unmitigated disaster for the government.

  While Fitzwilliam, keeping a promise to his Caroline, had not travelled to St. Peter's Field that day, he had plenty of informants who had, and the Matlock Review,
now jointly owned by the Tates and Sir Edmond Camden, told the whole gory story. When Caroline heard the details of the incident, so outraged was she by what she had learned, she decided to call on Mrs Tate, who managed the newspaper for her son Anthony, and place before her all the information Fitzwilliam had obtained, begging her to persuade the editor to speak out strongly.

  She was not disappointed.

  No decent English heart could not but be ashamed that Englishmen had spilt the blood of other ordinary, hardworking English men and women, whose only crime was to demand a fair hearing and Parliamentary reform,

  …wrote the editor of the Review, ensuring a place in history for the “Martyrs of St Peter's Field.”

  Fitzwilliam, whose political career was gradually taking shape, realising the implications of the public outrage, campaigned wholeheartedly from then on, together with other radicalised middle-class men, warning that reform was essential if England were not to go down the path of France into mayhem and chaos. It was a cry that may not have been taken seriously prior to the massacre at St Peter's Field, but since then, it resounded around the country like an alarm, alerting men to the possibility of disaster.