CAROLINE

by Sue Barr

  He’d had full intention of conversing with her after enjoying some quiet time with the men, but when he entered the room she’d hurried Miss Georgiana to the pianoforte. As a former connoisseur of women, he understood her ploy to delay their interaction for what it truly was. She fought the attraction between them and seemed to be losing the battle.

  He had to admit some disappointment upon entering the room her attention seemed focused not on him, but those who would follow him and his brother. Obviously, Miss Bingley still held some sort of tendre for Mr. Darcy, one that must fade away as Darcy would soon wed Miss Elizabeth.

  His awareness of the red haired beauty could no longer be denied, but he decided to proceed with caution. A liaison, even a closer friendship with her was fraught with danger. During their conversation at supper, he pressed to find out where her interests lay and like most ladies in Society and indeed, her time was wasted in frivolous activities.

  Yet when she’d played the pianoforte for this small gathering of family and friends, he felt as though he’d been given a glimpse of her soul. Through her talent, she transported them all to a place of beauty and that was a God given talent. One not to be taken lightly.

  There was much depth to this spoiled miss and he’d be remiss if he didn’t discover what went on in the mind of Miss Caroline Bingley. He turned his gaze toward her, still seated at the pianoforte and caught her watching him. Quickly, she averted her attention to her clasped hands and he willed to look at him again, which she did.

  A purely masculine thrill rushed through him by the emotion laid bare upon her face. He gave her a knowing smile and inclined his head. He too felt the invisible threads that seemed to be knitting their lives together.

  He spoke with Georgiana few more minutes and then excused himself and moved to the other side of the room, stopping before the couch where the lady who held his interest sat.

  “I compliment you on your talent, Miss Bingley.” He watched closely to gauge her reaction. Would she be condescending, or gracious? Much would be gleaned on how she received praise. “Rarely have I heard Mozart played so passionately.”

  “Thank you, Lord Nathan.” She toyed with the pomander on her wrist. “Your praise should be reserved for Mozart, who wrote such beautiful music. I am but a vessel for his genius.”

  Pleased with her answer, he decided on a bold move.

  “May I join you?” Nathan pulled forward a small stool, and sat beside the couch. “I hate when people have to crick their necks in order to speak with me.”

  “You are tall, Lord Nathan.” She gathered her skirts and moved them away from the leg of the stool. “Forgive me. I know what it’s like to have people comment on your height.”

  He paused at her statement. What she said was true. Miss Bingley was above average height, which didn’t bother him as he stood a good six inches over her, but to others within their acquaintance, she would appear to be an Amazonian goddess.

  “Yes, I suppose you would. Like me, I’m sure you were always asked to pick the apples others couldn’t reach.” She smiled and nodded. “And I would hazard a guess that you’ve been asked many times, by caring family members only, how the weather was up there.” She now laughed softly. “Then I suggest, for the duration of these festivities, you and I stay close together whenever we are in each other’s company. To lend each other moral support,” he hastened to add when her cheeks tinged pink. His suggestion was outrageous, but he liked the thought of having her close by him.

  “I don’t quite know what to say, Lord Nathan.” She carefully shifted on the couch to put more space between them. “I believe you are teasing me.”

  In prior years, when he was a jaded man, he would have relentlessly pursued her. She stirred his blood like no woman had, not even Miss Tottingham, to whom he’d proposed marriage. At that moment Mrs. Hurst joined them.

  “Lord Nathan. It’s such a pleasure to see you again.” Her smile stretched wide with no hint of warmth, or sincerity. “I didn’t have opportunity to speak with you over dinner.”

  “Such are the vagaries of life,” he replied with a careless shrug.

  Georgiana approached them. “Excuse me. My brother and I had some tables set up for a few games of cards. Would you care to join us and even out the tables?”

  “I’d love to play cards.” Louisa hastened to her feet and made her way to the card table near where his brother stood. She was quickly joined by Charles, Mr. Hurst and Georgiana and he noted that she struggled to hide her disappointment.

  “Miss Bingley, may I escort you to one of the tables?”

  “Thank you, but I am capable of walking on my own,” came her tart reply. She stood, shook out her skirts and proceeded to the other table with Nathan close behind. They were joined by his brother and Darcy.

  When Caroline realized she’d be sitting with all the principal men of their company, he fully expected her to preen and gloat in her good luck. Instead, she cast a quick glance at her sister, looking more worried than prideful.

  He wondered at the dynamics of their relationship and also had to remember that she was a young woman, not used to being in the presence of powerful men. Not that he was powerful, but he was still born of nobility and there was a Duke at the table, although he was terrible at cards.

  He partnered with Darcy, with the intent to win and his brother partnered with Miss Bingley. After a few quick hands, he realized she was extremely intelligent and extremely skilled. It was as though she knew where each card was and who held them. If she were a man, he’d take her to White’s and make a bag full of money.

  Not only did she have skill as a card player, but she also playfully bantered with Darcy, which was not unusual as they’d known each other for a few years, and spoke to her brother with a candor which surprised him. He knew Max found this refreshing as almost all of London held him in awe. Not many people could claim a Duke as an acquaintance.

  The only person she treated with extreme caution was him. There was a tug between them, an undercurrent beneath the calm civility of their conversations, much like the river close to his ancestral home. One false move and you’d be pulled beneath the seemingly placid water. For now, he and Miss Bingley were balancing rather tenuously on a flat bottom raft, neither willing to tip the balance for fear of that current.

  Chapter 8

  The melancholy strains of Ignaz Pleyel’s sonata in F Major flowed from Caroline’s fingertips onto the pianoforte keyboard. She let the music take her away to a world of beauty and peace. At times like this, she forgot about her frustration of gaining not one toe hold in the impenetrable wall of society. She forgot the heartache threatening to consume her very being. She forgot who she was. A woman who’s wealth came from not from titled lands and nobility, but from trade. The very type of people she besmirched every chance she had. People like her grandmamma, whose work roughened fingers wiped more than one tear away from her cheeks as she grew up.

  The music came to an abrupt halt and Caroline hung her head in shame. If grandmamma were alive and knew what she’d become, how she behaved...it didn’t bear thinking about. Needless to say, her grandmother’s heart would be broken. Cora Bingley raised her family to be proud of their heritage. Nothing wrong ever came from hard work, was a phrase oft repeated in the Bingley household.

  With limited choices in the running, Louisa settled on Mr. Hurst whose family had a reasonable estate in Warwickshire, albeit smaller than what the Bennets laid claim to at Longbourn. Not that they’d ever reveal that anyone. Louisa achieved the status of a gentleman’s wife in her marriage and her children would be accepted in places Caroline could only dream of.

  That was when she became determined to attain a higher standing than a gentleman who brought in less than two thousand pounds per annum. She’d make a marriage worthy of her dowry and with that goal in mind, set her cap at Mr. Darcy, who never regarded her in the same light no matter how hard she tried. She’d seen his interest in Miss Eliza Bennet at Netherfield when she arri
ved to nurse her sister back to health and no matter how hard she attempted to throw the country miss into an unfavorable light; he’d turned all incidents into praise worthy events. She should have known his heart was engaged right then. How arrogant she’d been, assuming he would return to London and once out of Miss Bennet’s illuminous sphere be drawn to her.

  She stood and walked to the diamond paned window, and stared out over the beautiful grounds without really seeing anything. Her life was adrift and last night, after she’d excused herself to go to bed, Louisa visited. Her pride, pricked over a perceived slight from the Duke, motivated her to harangue Caroline about her selfish behavior. She then advised she was with child and Caroline would have to find lodgings elsewhere as her suite would be turned into a nursery.

  The clock chimed the eleventh hour and she decided to go for a walk. Rambling about the grand house held no allure and for once, even her music couldn’t soothe her restlessness. She had Lucy bring down a cashmere shawl for her shoulders. It was such a pleasant day there was no requirement for anything heavier.

  “Do you wish me to accompany you, Miss?”

  “No, Lucy. I’ll stay close to the house. I only want some fresh air before dinner.”

  “Yes, Miss.” Lucy curtsied and Caroline exited the great house via the morning room which opened to a wide expanse of manicured garden, the roof of the stable visible over a small berm just to the west.

  The quiet nicker of horses drew her toward the stables and she entered the spacious building, anxious to see the horse Darcy spoke of the other night. He’d purchased a lovely mare for Miss Elizabeth as a wedding present and she was curious as to what type of mount he’d chosen. Would she be a gentle creature, or something with more spirit? With some knowledge of Miss Bennet’s character, she leaned toward Darcy choosing a more spirited animal.

  There were at least twenty stalls and she checked the first two, finding them empty. About to exit the second stall, she heard Lord Nathan’s deep voice. Botheration. She didn’t want to face him so soon after last night’s dinner party. He was cheeky enough to misconstrue her intent and declare she followed him. She slipped back into the stall and listened to their muffled voices.

  When all she heard was the gentle rhythm of horses in their stalls, she advanced and peeked down the main corridor of the stable. Her shoulder relaxed and she took a deep cleansing breath.

  He hadn’t seen her. Thank goodness.

  ~~~ooo0ooo~~~

  Nathan entered the Pemberley stables, amazed at how spacious and airy the building was. Each stall had an arched entrance with a small portico before you entered the area where the horses were housed. Inside each portico, various brushes and farrier instruments hung in perfect order. Saddles and tack were suspended on strong hooks across the other side of the entranceway. He knew Max, after seeing the layout of the stable, would authorize changes at Adborough Hall. Of that he had no doubt.

  Darcy exited one of the stalls near the middle and upon seeing him, approached with a firm stride.

  “Kerr. Glad you could meet me here. I’m a bit busy and this was the only time I could spare.” He reached into his waistcoat and pulled out an envelope. “I was hoping you could incorporate these words into the marriage ceremony. It is meant to be a surprise for Elizabeth.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Darcy.” Nathan took the envelope and tucked it into his own pocket.

  “Would you like to see my wedding gift for Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy’s voice was full of happiness and had a lightness Nathan never noticed before. He admired Miss Bennet for bringing out the softer side of Darcy and knew that their marriage would be one full of love and encouragement.

  He nodded his head in agreement and followed Darcy back into the stall he’d exited a few moments ago.

  “She’s a beauty, Mr. Darcy.” Nathan ran his hands over the mare’s shoulder and back.

  “I’ve told you before, please call me Darcy. I know I’m your patron, but we’ve known each other for years.”

  “Very well, but allow me to show you proper respect when others are around.”

  “We’ll see, Kerr. I’m not that much of a stickler for protocol with those I trust.”

  Surprise had Nathan pause for a moment. To be told by a man, who’d reputation of being distant and proud was legendary, that he trusted him filled him with a sense of gratitude and friendship. The mare nickered and nudged his pocket for the apple she scented.

  “May I?” he queried and after a quick nod from Darcy placed the apple on his palm. Within seconds the crisp fruit disappeared and she nudged his pocket for more. “Sorry, Athena. Next time I visit.”

  Both men turned to exit the stall.

  “Do you think Elizabeth will like my wedding gift?”

  “It depends. Does Miss Bennet ride?”

  “She assured me she rides, but she’s very fond of walking. In order to see all the estate, a horse makes more sense.”

  “I agree. Even a most ardent walker couldn’t cover all the area in less than a month.”

  “I’ve—” Darcy stopped when the head groomsman approached. “Yes, Dobson?”

  Sorry, Mr. Darcy, sir. There’s been a spot of trouble with the new mare you bought for Miss Georgiana. She’s sounding a bit wheezy.”

  “Go ahead, Darcy. I can see myself out,” Nathan stated.

  “Very well, thank you, Kerr.”

  Darcy and Dobson turned and made haste toward the other end of the stable. A short huffing sound had him stop and peer inside the next stall. Inside stood a large stallion, his coat gleamed ebony black and his eyes had a proud look about them.

  “You’re a handsome fellow,” he whispered softly, not wanting to startle the magnificent creature. The horse bobbed his head, as if in agreement. “I would bet, given your proud look, that you belong to Mr. Darcy.”

  He admired the horse for a few minutes and then turned to leave. As he exited the stall, he stopped cold at the sight of Miss Caroline Bingley, her back to him, peering around the corner of a vacant stall. An imp of mischief prompted him to keep his presence secret until he was almost upon her.

  “May I help you, Miss Bingley?”

  She whirled in shock, lost her balance and promptly fell onto the straw covered floor. The sound of ripping cloth rent the air, followed by her cry of surprise. As she struggled to pull herself into an upright position, he noticed a portion of her skirt hung by a nail on the beam she’d been standing beside.

  Nathan rushed to give her aid, which she allowed and then swatted his hand aside as soon as she stood steady on her feet. She didn’t even try to meet his curious gaze and began to inspect the damage to her dress, brushing off pieces of straw and dirt.

  “It’s a little late to clean up, don’t you think?”

  She raised her gaze to his and he was astonished at the amount of anger they revealed. Not one bit of remorse for whatever she’d been caught at.

  “I have no idea what you are going on about. Fine gentleman you are. Sneaking up and scaring me to death and then not even apologize.”

  “First, I wasn’t ‘sneaking’, I entered through a wide open door,” he replied in a lazy tone and propped his shoulder against the stall’s frame. “If anyone was ‘sneaking’, it was you, peeking around the corner, spying on Mr. Darcy”

  He hated to admit it, but it looked as though the various reports he’d heard were true. Miss Bingley could very well be attempting to compromise Darcy a few days before the wedding. Disappointment flooded his soul. He’d held a very real interest in her and now doubted her character. Not for the first time he was glad he’d learned to hide his true feelings while in the army. Skills further honed under the sharp eye of those in Society.

  “You, sir, are no gentleman!” She shook out her skirts one final time and began walking toward the entrance that led back to the main house.

  “And you,” he said, “are no lady.” He ignored her indignant gasp and pushed off the doorframe. In two quick strides he’d outpaced her and blocked he
r exit. “What were you doing here?”

  She attempted to side step him, but he only placed his larger body solidly in front of her path. Frustrated, she stood still, anger rolling off her in waves.

  “I heard Darcy purchased a new horse and desired to see the beast for myself,” she stated and finally raised her eyes to meet his. Her clear gaze gave him pause. If she were lying, then this air of innocence was a trait she’d mastered well.

  “ I have it on good authority that Mr. Darcy bought the horse as a wedding gift for Miss Bennet and wished no one to see it until after the ceremony,” he said, quietly emphasizing the word ‘Mr.’ “And that doesn’t explain why you were hiding in a vacant stall.”

  “I was not hiding!”

  Nathan took a step toward her, placed a finger under her chin and forced her to raise her gaze to his. Two flags of red emblazoned her cheeks.

  “You and I both know that is an outright lie. You will not attempt to trap Mr. Darcy into a situation where he must break his engagement to Miss Bennet and be forced to marry you.”

  “Unhand me, sir.” She glared at him, her chin remaining at a haughty angle.

  He ignored her request and became swept up with a ridiculous desire to fan the flames. God help him, he wanted to ruffle her feathers.

  “If you are looking for a husband, you are going about it the wrong way.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A wary look crossed her face when he framed her face with both of his hands. “What...what are you doing?”

  He was inexplicably drawn to the shape of her lips and wanted to lose himself in their silken texture. He wanted her attention to be solely on him, not Fitzwilliam Darcy. Slow and deliberate, never removing his gaze from hers, he leaned in. Her eyelashes fluttered down and the heat of their breath mixed.