by Sue Barr
She’d arrived in the sitting room to find a priceless Ming vase covered with tiny, wet, sticky wads of paper. Their punishment had been to polish all the silver in the house and after ‘the incident’ as it became known, all of them agreed Mother’s things were off limits.
But for the most part, the brothers kept their more spirited adventures outdoors. Nanny had her hands full mending cuts and bruises, not to mention a few broken bones.
All of that came to an end when Maxwell went off to Eton, followed by George the following year. A long two years elapsed before Nathan joined them and by that time Max was preparing for Cambridge. Yet, the brothers remained close, more so when their father died late last year and his title fell to their eldest brother. At eight and twenty, Max never expected to become a Duke.
Nathan was grateful for Mr. Darcy’s offer to become vicar of his family’s church at the village of Kympton, a short distance from Pemberley Estate. After resigning his commission he’d no desire to remain in London. At that time, as the son of a Duke, he’d have been invited into many great homes, but his heart lay in a more humble direction and near the end of his seminary studies, Darcy approached him. Because Darcy attended Cambridge with Max, he knew Nathan was in want of a good living. Not for the first time Nathan marveled at the Lord’s timing in his life.
“Is there anything more that you require, Mr. Kerr?” Darcy asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“I would like to meet with the young ladies and have a discussion with them to assure myself, and the Church of England, that they are indeed ready for the great adventure that lies before them.”
“I believe you wrote earlier you have business to attend in London next week.” Nathan affirmed with a quick nod. “Then I will arrange something during that time. The Misses Bennet will be in Town for their trousseau fittings and I’m sure we can arrange a quick interview with them at their Aunt and Uncle’s home.”
“Excellent. I look forward to it.”
All three men rose and made their way outside. A gleaming black coach with the Darcy coat of arms on the door and four matching greys waited. Darcy himself may not have a title, but his noble heritage ran deep and long, going back even further than Nathan’s and there were enough Earls and Viscounts in the family line to satisfy an inspection of Debrett’s Peerage by ladies of the ton.
“Good day to you, Mr. Kerr,” Darcy said as he entered the carriage. Bingley swung up on his horse and waited. “I’ll have my steward come around with a date and time for you to meet our brides as well as the Gardiner’s address.” He closed the door and tapped the carriage roof to let the driver know he could proceed.
Nathan gave him a courteous nod and watched them leave. He couldn’t wait to meet the woman who’d captured the elusive, very private Mr. Darcy. She seemed a paragon of virtue and if there was one thing he knew to be true, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy did not give compliments easily. Nor censure. The fact he worried enough about the behavior of his betrothed’s family to give warning made Nathan pause for a moment.
He shook his head and re-entered the parsonage. He’d survived the panting mothers of Society and the wiles of many a deceptive debutante, surely he could handle the bride’s family with ease.
~~~ooo0ooo~~~
“I am so glad you are home. I have some news.”
Caroline glanced up as Louisa entered the front parlor and took a seat across from her. Mildly surprised at her sister’s abrupt entrance, she set down the pillow she’d been stitching.
“Whatever is the matter? You look positively flushed.” Caroline picked up the tiny bell on the table beside her and rang for tea.
“I’ve received a letter from Charles—”
“Finally! He missed his lawyer’s appointment as well as Lady Addleworth’s ball. I don’t think I can ever forgive him for leaving me without a dance partner.”
“Never mind the ball; he’s done something absolutely dreadful.”
Without another word, Louisa pulled a letter from her pocket and handed the crumpled piece of paper to Caroline. She glanced at the front of it to see when the letter had been posted.
“This was mailed almost a week ago.” She tried to smooth the single sheet out and held it to the light coming from the front window. “No wonder it took so long to arrive, the address is smudged. His penmanship has not improved.”
Charles had a tendency to run his sentences together and large ink smudges concealed a few words, but not all.
“His penmanship is the least of our worries.”
Raising an eyebrow at her sister’s caustic tone, Caroline attempted to read her brother’s hasty scrawl.
Hertfordshire, Netherfield Park
October 2, 1812
“He hasn’t quit Netherfield Park!” She exclaimed when she saw the date and place Charles wrote from.
“Again, dear sister, that is the least of our concerns. Read on!”
Without bothering to look up at her sister, whom she knew was most likely gritting her teeth in anger, she continued reading.
Dearest Louisa,
I write you with the most wonderful news. Mr. Darcy and I attended Netherfield Park a few weeks ago and as they were a particular acquaintance of ours, we paid a visit to the Bennet family of Longbourn. We were graciously received and were delighted to be invited to dine, en famille. Mr. Bennet is a very diverting man, full of wit and laughter.
I won’t keep you in suspense, dear sister, but this Saturday past, September 26, Miss Jane Bennet accepted my offer of marriage. We are to be wed as soon as the banns are read. Mr. Darcy graciously invited dear Jane and me to be married the same day he and Miss Elizabeth Bennet exchange their vows. The ceremony will take place the first day of November at his vicarage near Pemberley.
Miss Georgiana Darcy already looks upon Miss Elizabeth Bennet as a sister and I remember how much you liked Miss Jane. You and Caroline stated she was a sweet girl, which she is, and she looks forward to being a loving sister to both of you. I am the happiest man in all of England. Nay, all the world.
I shall return to London once Darcy and I have finalized details with the vicar at Kympton.
Your loving brother,
Charles
The letter fell from Caroline’s fingers onto her lap. How could this happen? She’d worked so hard cultivating a friendship with Darcy, making sure she never stepped outside the bonds of polite society. She’d carefully selected friends amongst those who would advance their social status once married. Had all of it been in vain?
“Caroline? Are you quite well?”
“What?” She shook out of her dazed thoughts at her sister’s concern and stared at her.
“I asked if you were—”
“Yes, yes. I’m fine.” She jumped to her feet, ignoring the pillow that fell to the floor and began to pace. “How could Darcy propose marriage to...to...”
“A woman he thinks quite handsome?”
“NO!”
Her heart couldn’t stand the thought of Darcy finding Miss Elizabeth Bennet more handsome than she. Why, Elizabeth Bennet wore simple muslin gowns and walked for miles in mud, not caring what anyone thought. Her family teetered one step higher than tenant farmers. Her uncle lived in Cheapside on Gracechurch Street, of all places! Elizabeth Bennet was a low born nobody and marrying her would drag the Darcy name through the very mud she liked to cavort amongst. How could he do this to her?
“At least he’ll be happy.” Louisa sounded almost weary and Caroline cut a quick glance at her.
Some sympathy coursed through her as she noticed pinched lines around Louisa’s mouth and eyes. Life had not been easy for her. What should have been a great match to Mr. Hurst had turned sour when his character was revealed within the first year of marriage. He was a lazy man who liked nothing better than to spend Louisa’s inheritance on drink and cards. All the more reason Caroline set her cap at Mr. Darcy. He never gambled, nor drank to excess. His estate was profitable and the mistress of Pemberley would want for nothing. A
ll her plans were ruined. Elizabeth Bennet would now live the life she coveted with every fiber of her being.
“Come, Caroline. Drink your tea before it becomes cold. There’s nothing we can do about it now.”
She sank onto the settee, her hand to her chest as it constricted with an unknown pain. For the past year she’d subtly hinted to a chosen few of Darcy’s fondness of her and how she expected him to come up to scratch in the near future. That he would marry her, Elizabeth Bennet...
She broke off the thought, yet her mind refused to heed her desires, racing in a multitude of directions, all of which led back to the fact her attendance at the wedding was mandatory. Crushed dreams or not, she must present a pleasant face or risk becoming the laughing stock of the ton. It was only after Louisa went to speak with Cook about the evening meal that Caroline paced the front parlor, alone with her thoughts.
What was it about the men in her life that they became addlepated over a few plain country misses? Had they no sense at all? She blew out a frustrated breath and continued to pace.
She’d argued with her sister that although they would attend the wedding, there would be no convivial visits during Christmas. Louisa, the viper, pointed out they’d have to attend any and all christenings as Charles always stated he wanted a houseful of children. At that statement she almost brought back up her tea.
She stopped pacing and clenched her fingers into a tight fist. Why hadn’t Darcy kept Charles away from Jane, and more disturbing, why had he proposed to Elizabeth Bennet? If only Darcy and Charles had taken her with them, then neither would be marrying into that odious family.
Of that she was positive.
She pivoted from the window and sat on the settee near the fireplace. Her foot bumped something beneath the small couch and she pulled out the pillow she’d been stitching. Tension snaked through her body at the sight of her pitiful attempt to capture Pemberley in needlepoint.
She nearly tossed the unfinished reminder of her failure into the fireplace, instead, all her anger, frustration, all her tattered hopes and dreams coalesced into a fit of fury and she tore the pillow to shreds with her bare hands. Minutes later, fingernails broken and fingertips bruised, she threw the mangled mess to the floor. Great gasps racked her chest as she fell to the floor and sobbed.
“Caroline!”
She raised her head at the sound of Charles’ voice and attempted to wipe away her tears with trembling fingers. He rushed to her side and helped her onto the settee. With an impatient huff she swatted his hands from her arms and turned her back to him.
“Go away, Charles. I’m not fit company at the moment.”
“I cannot leave you like this. I’ve only just returned.”
A fresh linen cloth was pressed into her hand and she used it to clean the tears from her face.
“I’m sure you have more important things to do than sit with a sister who has lost all her composure.”
Tears threatened to bubble up and flow down her cheeks once again. The settee shifted as Charles sat beside her, his shoulder bumping into her back, something he’d done when they were children.
“There is nothing I would rather do than comfort my sister when she is obviously in distress. Is there anything I can get you? Anything I can do to help you with...with, whatever this is?”
She turned slightly and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. His expression was sincere, with no hint of malice.
“Yes. Don’t marry Jane Bennet.”
Charles barked out a laugh and stood.
“That is something I will not do. I wasn’t going to mention this, given my extreme happiness, but I discovered you knew Miss Bennet was in London last year and kept that information from me.” His brow furrowed slightly. “I’ve got half a mind to cut your clothing allowance by half until you are well and truly married.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Don’t push my good nature, Caroline. If my marriage to the most amiable woman in England is the source of your anguish, then I suggest you find ways to cope. Miss Jane Bennet is an angel and I intend to marry her as fast as humanly possible.”
“But why, Charles?” Caroline sprang to her feet and faced him, the tear-stained linen cloth clutched against her chest. “We agreed before we quit Netherfield that she was not right match for you. What of Georgiana?”
“What of Georgiana?” he queried back, then his eyes narrowed and his body stiffened. “Did you think I was going to offer for Georgiana? She is but a child! Is that what ‘this’ is all about?” He indicated the shredded pillow on the floor.
“No,” she answered swiftly with a shake of her head. His gaze hardened and she relented, “Yes, but there’s more to my distress than what you think. I’m not a complete ninny-hammer.”
“Not from where I stand.” He gave her a stiff bow. “I will see you at dinner. I hope by then you will be composed.”
He exited the room and she fell back to the settee. How much worse could this day become?
“Oh, and Caroline...”
She sat more erect and glanced over her shoulder to see Charles had returned and now stood in the doorway, his usually cheerful face dark with anger.
“...Darcy traveled with me to London as he has some business to attend and will dine with us this evening. Try to behave like a lady. Try to behave like my Jane would.”
With that he turned and this time she heard him ascend the stairs, his rebuke ringing in her ears. For better or worse she had to face Darcy. She glanced down at her mangled hands and with a touch of whimsy realized, I’ll have to wear gloves. She stood, drew in a deep breath and smoothed down her skirt. With a heartfelt sigh she went upstairs to repair the damage her temper had wrought.
Chapter 3
Caroline pulled the ivory lace gloves high upon her forearms and perused her hands. After trimming her nails almost to the quick and soaking them in rose water, her fingernails didn’t look as ghastly as they had earlier. She would have to remove the gloves to eat, but with Darcy seated to the right of Charles and she directly across from them, the two men would be none the wiser. Louisa might take notice, but as hostess she would be seated at the other end of the table, next to her husband and most likely would say nothing.
She descended to the first floor and made her way toward the drawing room. Familiar male voices carried out into the hall and for a moment she stopped and took a deep breath. How could she face Darcy, knowing he’d never be hers? She heard Charles laugh, followed by, “I say, Darcy. That vicar of yours is a fine man. He has a good sense of humor and will suit you and Miss Bennet admirably.”
A sharp pain lanced through her heart. She didn’t know if she could face her greatest disappointment without bursting into tears. Words of her grandmamma seeped into her consciousness. For I know the thoughts that I think toward you. Thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you an expected end.1
Dear grandmamma, a hardworking tradesman’s wife, spent much time in prayer, her worn out bible constantly at hand. She’d always known the right words to calm her headstrong granddaughter’s heart and thoughts.
“Thank you, grandmamma,” she whispered as she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and swept into the room. Charles and Darcy stood by the fireplace and Mr. Hurst lounged in his favorite chair, a glass of port within easy reach. Louisa hadn’t made an appearance yet, but then she always liked to make a grand entrance when there were guests. Caroline decided on a forthright approach and not let Darcy know how crushed she was by his asinine decision.
“My congratulations, Darcy, on your upcoming nuptials.” She gave him a small curtsy in greeting.
“Thank you, Miss Bingley.” He nodded his head in return, his expression inscrutable. Unnerved by his cool demeanor, she turned to her brother.
“What were you saying about Darcy’s vicar, Charles?” She made her way to the settee and took her seat, mentally shivering in remembrance of the state her brother found her earlier.
“I was saying he is full of
good humor.” Charles moved toward the drink tray and poured a small sherry for her. She briefly wished he would give her a splash of bourbon, or something stronger to calm her nerves, but she smiled and accepted the overly sweet drink. “He’s nothing like I expected from a man of the cloth.”
“How did you find him, Darcy?” She took a sip and shuddered when the ghastly concoction of sweetness hit her taste buds.
“I attended Cambridge with his brother. He knew I was looking for a good candidate as the position had been vacated by the untimely passing of Mr. Penfound. He contacted me and as soon as Mr. Kerr completed his seminary studies, I offered him the living at Kympton.”
“How fortuitous for you. I know you wanted a good man there. Does he have a wife, children?”
“No, the vicar is a single man. There’s no rush for him to enter the estate of marriage.” Mr. Darcy took a sip of his drink. “But, I’m sure when he does his wife will be extremely content.”
This small talk gave her a headache. Frankly, she could care less who led the Darcy family through the gates of heaven. She only needed them to think she was happy with their dismal choices and move on in her life. She took another sip of her sherry, willing it to stay down. Charles and Darcy talked quietly for a few moments and she took advantage of their inattention to assess the situation.
The Earl of Matlock was Darcy’s uncle and Darcy himself was on friendly terms with other members of nobility. The guest list had a distinct probability of being high ranking and very influential. She needed to find out who was expected to attend and begin making new plans. It was at that moment Louisa chose to make her entrance and without further delay the party proceeded to the dining room.
~~~ooo0ooo~~~
“With the wedding ceremony being held at Pemberley, your close relative, the Earl of Matlock can attend with ease. That must please you, Darcy.” Caroline cut into her excellent salmon as she spoke across the table to Mr. Darcy.
