“I know more than you would credit me with.”
A sense of perversity gripped her, and to prove him wrong, she poured herself another glass. She gripped the decanter by the neck and brought it with her.
“Be careful,” said Robert Darcy. “You are not accustomed to drinking.” He winced as she consumed another glass. “Especially so quickly.”
“Sherry?” she said, indignantly. “You are worried about sherry?”
“I am worried about you drinking sherry,” he insisted. “Since you are unaccustomed to drinking anything but a single glass of wine over dinner.”
She was more than tired of his protective attitude. Who had given him permission to guard her like a snapping dog? No one. She tossed down the drink and poured herself another.
“In that case, I will not be responsible for your actions,” he said.
“You are not responsible for my actions. Nor is anyone else. Why can’t you leave me to my own devices?”
“Unfortunately, at this particular moment, I cannot,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “since you are beginning to look distinctly unsteady.”
Her head felt vaguely heavy, but she was not unsteady. “As usual, you are completely wrong,” and to prove it, she took another glass.
He strode deliberately to the bell pull and tugged at it.
“What are you so worried about?” said Caroline, mischievously. “Do you think I will behave inappropriately towards you?”
“I think it highly unlikely,” he said.
“What do you mean, highly unlikely?” she cried. “Do you think me such an old maid that I would not?”
She would show him how mistaken he was. She pulled herself up and began to advance towards him. She would kiss him, if it was the last thing she did.
“I think nothing,” he said, keeping his distance. “I am merely ringing for someone to take you to your room. We will finish this dialogue later.”
She continued towards him, intent on showing him that she was quite capable of behaving improperly. Mrs Reynolds, however, appeared very inconveniently in the doorway. Caroline was not so far gone that she would do anything rash in front of a person as dignified as Mrs Reynolds.
“Miss Bingley is rather unwell,” said Robert Darcy. “I think it would be best if she were taken to her room.”
Mrs Reynolds fussed over her, asking with concern what was wrong. Caroline had enough presence of mind to say that she felt dizzy—which was not completely untrue. Throwing Robert Darcy a glance that promised retaliation for his betrayal, Caroline went away with the housekeeper.
When she reached her room and Mrs Reynolds had helped her lie on her bed, Caroline reached a resolution. She was more than tired of attempting to deal with Mr Robert Darcy. In fact, she had no intention of dealing with him ever again.
With that resolved, she began to feel much, much better.
Chapter 16
Caroline groaned when she woke up. Then she tried not to groan as Molly helped her dress for dinner. She had made a fool of herself yet again with Robert. Why could she not have an ordinary, calm, sensible conversation with him without something untoward happening?
And now she had to go down and face him, haunted by the persistent memory that she had been on the verge of kissing him, before he rang for Mrs Reynolds.
Pemberley had a strange effect on her, she was now convinced. It was as if the house itself was a kind of presence that drove her to do things she would never do in her right mind. As if she had entered an uncanny realm where all normal rules were suspended.
Well, it was as good an explanation for her behaviour as any.
Meanwhile, Reality was waiting for her downstairs. If she could have hidden in her room and remained there for the rest of the stay, she would have. But she could not. Sooner or later, she would have to look Robert Darcy in the eye and know that he knew that she had tried to kiss him.
Caroline, if nothing else, had a practical mind. If something unpleasant had to be faced, the sooner the better.
Instead, she stayed in her room and hid, and pretended to read, and hoped nobody would come looking for her
Time passed slowly. She heard laughter from downstairs, and then voices as everyone passed through the hall and moved to the dining room.
That was what drove her downstairs at the last possible moment. For if there was anything worse than being too embarrassed to make an appearance, it was realizing that she had been completely forgotten.
***
She gained one advantage from her late appearance. The seating arrangements had been changed, so that instead of being put next to Robert, she was relegated to the bottom of the table, and seated between Georgiana and Kitty. At first she avoided looking down the table, afraid to catch his eye. But then he said something funny and chuckled, glancing towards her, and before she knew it she was laughing too, and all her dread had dissipated.
During the second course Caroline’s long-awaited letter from Newcastle arrived. She took it from the silver salver and was about to put it away to read later when an intuition prompted her to open it. She skimmed the content quickly then, as her heart skipped a beat, she went back to examine it again carefully. Her reaction must have shown on her face, because conversation at the dinner table ceased as all eyes turned towards her.
“Oh, you have received bad news!” cried Mrs Bennet. “Pray tell us what it is at once!”
She read on. Part of her still wanted to believe that she had misunderstood, but she knew it could not be so.
Therefore, my dear Caroline, if it is in your power to summon the magistrate in secret, before they can escape, you will be doing us all a great service. For there have been several households here in Newcastle who have suffered losses from that infamous pair.
The letter concluded with hopes that she would not receive the letter too late. She put the letter down, and stared round at the expectant faces.
“The letter concerns Captain Trewson and Mrs Miles.”
Mrs Bennet put a hand to her heart and gasped loudly. “Oh, no! They have met with an accident! What has happened? Tell me quickly! I cannot bear to think of it!”
Louisa turned as white as the tablecloth in front of her. Caroline felt profoundly sorry for her, and wished she could have broken the news another way. But she had no choice now but to continue. She struggled with her words, trying to reduce the impact on her sister.
“No, there has been no accident,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “I have received a letter from a friend of mine in Newcastle. I wrote to enquire about the Trewsons. She has only now responded.”
Caroline could not bring herself to say it, but she had to. She tried not to look at her sister. “I am afraid that we have found our thieves.”
The blankness on everyone’s faces told her she had not made herself clear. “I wrote to friend in the hopes of discovering more about the Trewsons. My friend did not respond at first, because she knew no one by that name. But I had described them to her, and something I wrote must have alerted her, for she soon put two and two together. That was when she realized that the brother and sister known to her as Captain Cartwright and Miss Jennings were one and the same as our Captain Trewson and Mrs Miles. She in turn enquired about them from friends of hers who had suffered a robbery, which is why she did not write sooner. According to her information, when they last appeared in the vicinity of York, they were husband and wife by the name of Captain and Mrs Flemings, only they were darker and their appearance slightly altered. But there can be no doubt they are one and the same, for everyone is quite in agreement about their manners and behaviour.”
Caroline cast a sideways glance at Robert. He had paled, and his fingers gripped the table tightly. She did not look at Louisa.
“In York, as in Newcastle, they have left behind them a trail of debt, stolen property, and broken hearts.”
There were cries of outrage and ang
er. Lydia jumped up and stared with horror at the company. “Oh! It cannot be! And I actually thought them so kind to pick me up and drive me all the way here! When all the time they could have cut my throat and tossed me by the wayside!”
“And to think they seemed so charming and handsome,” said Mrs Bennet, “and all the time they were ogling my jewels! It is not to be endured! Mr Bennet, how can you sit there so calmly eating your food at a time like this? You must do something.”
“It would be a pity to waste such an excellent dish,” said Mr Bennet. “And I cannot imagine what I could possibly do. They are no doubt disguised at this very moment under another name in a household similar to this, charming silly young ladies—and gentlemen, it must be said—with false stories about their lives.”
“There must be something you can do to stop them! Oh, why must you always be so contrary? You are never willing to stir yourself on my behalf!” cried Mrs Bennet.
“I do not see what you expect me to accomplish, my dear. Besides, if we are to believe Captain Trewson, he is a practised duellist.”
This statement had a powerful affect on Mrs Bennet. “No, no, my dear! You must not fight a duel! For you would be killed, and then that detestable Mr Collins will take your place.”
“Then I hope I have your permission to continue eating, Mrs Bennet.”
Mr Darcy rose, and with a word, brought silence to the general uproar around the table. “We must not waste a moment. The first thing to be done is to send for the magistrate. Now that we know that it is the brother and sister who are responsible for the theft, we have a far better chance of catching the culprits.”
“At least we know one thing,” said Robert, his voice dry and devoid of all inflection. “We know which direction they did not go. They did not go to London.”
A clamour of voices rose to argue with him, with everyone wishing to contribute something.
Mr Darcy left the room, presumably to inform Eliza of the new development, and to send someone for the magistrate.
“How can we know that they are brother and sister?” said Kitty. “Perhaps it was simply part of their disguise.”
The question was perceptive. Since everyone else ignored the remark, Caroline answered Kitty herself. “You are quite right. I suppose we shan’t know unless they are caught,” replied Caroline.
“What I would like to discover,” said Robert, “is how they knew to escape before the letter arrived.”
“I am to blame for that,” said Louisa, bitterly. “I knew my sister had sent a letter, and I was unwise enough to inform Captain Trewson—or whatever his name was.”
“I think that everything was already planned,” said Kitty, warming to the subject. “Remember our walk to Lambton? I said then that I did not like the man Captain Trewson met at the inn. They were planning the robbery at the time, I am certain of it. There was something stealthy about their movements. He must have provided the wagon to remove their goods. I told you, did I not, Lydia, that I did not like him? But you were too occupied with the officers to care.”
“You can’t blame me. How could I have known? And what concern was it of mine, in any case?”
“You were the one who brought them here,” said Kitty.
“Stop, Kitty, at once!” said Mrs Bennet. “Do you not see we are miserable enough, without you making it worse?”
“I do not see how I could make it worse by speaking about it,” said Kitty, unrepentant. “And it was Lydia who brought them here. If she had arranged for a proper escort when she left Newcastle, instead of relying on strangers, we would not be in such a basket.”
Lydia burst into tears and fled from the room, with her mother close behind her.
Mr Bennet looked up from his food with a sigh. “Now we will at least have some quiet.”
Even Jane looked shocked at his statement. “Papa, you must see that Mama is quite distressed.”
“I hope you do not mean to harp on the same theme as well, Jane. I would have thought you had more sense,” replied Mr Bennet.
“My wife simply wished to point out that Mrs Bennet is genuinely distraught, Mr Bennet.” Charles spoke more sharply than was customary for him.
A tense silence followed. It seemed useless to continue at the dinner table, since no one, not even Mr Bennet, was eating by now. In the absence of both Mr and Mrs Darcy, Robert proposed that they should all retire to the drawing room, where they could each read the letter, and reach what conclusions they may from it.
Louisa excused herself and pleaded a headache. Caroline would have followed her sister to her chamber, but Robert held her back.
“She might need some time alone,” he said. “Especially since the exposure of her friend was so public.”
Caroline thought perhaps he was echoing his own sentiments. But he came into the drawing room with everyone else, and waited patiently for his turn to read the letter.
“Have I misrepresented anything?” she asked, worried that she had read the letter too quickly, and hoping that perhaps she had misunderstood.
“No, no,” he said. “You have, if anything, expressed the matter very tactfully. It appears they are sharps of the worst order. And now that I think back on it, I realize that she won at cards far more often than was natural. It would not surprise me if the cards were marked.” He looked profoundly unhappy.
“I am sorry,” she murmured. “I know you had an interest in her.”
He looked down at the ground. “I will admit I was completely deceived by her. I was duped by her easy going behaviour. I was tired of the hypocrisies of society, and thought her directness a refreshing change. I welcomed her lack of restraint with me, and her willingness to express her feelings. Or so I thought.” He tousled his hair, then tried to smooth it down again.
“What is worse is that now I know nothing about her at all. Not her name, not her origin, and not even if she is married. It is quite a blow to discover that someone you liked is in fact a complete cipher, and you will never know if anything she said to you was true.”
“I am sorry,” said Caroline again, knowing it was inadequate.
“I do not even know why she singled me out for attention. She did not steal anything from me.”
“It is not puzzling that she would single you out. You were the only available bachelor,” said Caroline. “And the captain did not steal from Louisa, either. I wonder what they were about.”
“We will only know the answers to our questions if they are caught. And perhaps, not even then.”
***
But Caroline was obliged to offer far more than guesses by the time the evening was out. She was summoned to the library to speak to Mr Benson, the magistrate, since everything depended on the letter she had received. Mr Benson raised an unexpected number of questions. When asked why she had written the letter in the first place, she was forced to give a circumspect answer, since she did not wish to involve her sister. And then there was the credibility of her correspondent to establish, and a number of other queries besides which left her quite exhausted.
Mr Darcy and Robert were both present at the examination. Mr Darcy gave her an encouraging smile as she began, and she took heart from it. She forgot him quickly as she struggled to recall specific events or circumstances. But she was aware throughout of Robert’s gaze on her, and of his warm presence supporting her. He interceded several times when it was apparent that Mr Benson’s questions were too delicate or too personal.
She was blameless, of course, but Caroline could understand that Mr Benson needed to be thorough. Since so much depended on it, he needed to determine whether she had any motive in attributing the crime to Captain
Trewson and Mrs Miles. She did not resent his questions. As an officer of the law, he was doing what was required, and overall, she thought he did very well.
Finally, he seemed satisfied, and he and Mr Darcy made their way to the drawing room to speak to some of the others, in case they had anything to add.
Caroline was left alone in the library—not for the first time—with Robert. The familiar furnishings wrapped around her like a cloak, and she felt content.
“This is becoming quite a habit,” she said, with a faint smile.
Robert’s eyes lit up. “And no doubt you wish for a sherry.”
“After all the events of the day, I would wish for something stronger.” At his expression, however, Caroline burst into laughter. “No, you need not worry. I was not serious.”
“Not serious? You! Impossible!”
Their shared laughter was a balm to her, and she felt some of her tension slip away. She sat back in her armchair, and, driven by the spirit of mischief, stretched her legs out as he did.
He observed her with interest. “Are you not becoming too lax in your behaviour? I cannot imagine that it is proper for a lady to be quite so comfortable as this, alone with a gentleman, without a chaperone in sight, her legs stretched out in a decidedly unladylike manner.”
“There is nothing improper in my posture—it is merely unceremonious, which is not the same thing. As for your other remark, I cannot seem to avoid being alone with you, so I might as well accept it.”
“I am glad to hear it,” he said. “I have always thought myself irresistible.”
“I see that your pride has rallied from the blow it suffered at Mrs Miles’s hands.”
“Not so,” he said, turning serious. “My pride does suffer. It rankles that I did not see through her. I foolishly equated free manners with an open nature, and I have been stung as a result. When I think how taken in I was…”
He grimaced and fell silent. “Fortunately,” he said, after a long minute of reflection, “my feelings were not engaged. It is only my pride that is injured.”
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