by Tess Quinn
Caroline moved into position for her opening manoeuvre.
~~~~~~
“Jane, my dear!” Caroline smiled as she wheedled. “How pleased I am to renew our mutual regard!”
Jane Bennet regarded Caroline with a hesitant smile. She was naturally disposed to find goodness and charitable intent in all people, cynicism found no hold in her temperament. And yet Jane could not but recall her tenure in town in the spring, and Caroline’s pointed coolness to resume their acquaintance then. It was little wonder that she might accept Caroline’s intimacy now with reservations. But Jane’s heart vanquished her reticence – after all, Caroline, she thought, was to be her sister. Surely only good will would follow between them now.
“Miss Bingley,” Jane replied, taking the other’s outstretched hands in her own.
“Oh, no! I will have none of that.” Caroline’s voice dripped with sentiment as she continued. “We are sisters now, are we not? Or as near as matters? You must begin to call me Caroline. I do so want that, dear sweet Jane; for us to share all the intimacies of sisters. For though I know you come to us well endowed with them, yet I would be another.”
Jane bore an expression of indeterminable description, though her smile was welcoming. Caroline wondered for a moment if perhaps Jane did not hear Caroline’s expressions of regard with distrust. Perhaps Miss Bennet was not so naïve as her deportment suggested. But no, she was certain Jane’s reaction was simply from being taken unawares. She would be won over soon enough and with relative ease. That slight moment of hesitation, however, warned Caroline not to begin too vehemently to court Jane’s help in overthrowing her sister. She would enlist her slowly as intimacy grew between them.
Charles joined his lady, and Caroline made certain to lavish upon him assurances of her delight and of his future happiness. These both Charles and Jane accepted with alacrity. Caroline could tell that Charles took the congratulations of both his sisters with great humour, but that of Caroline especially pleased him. No doubt he had feared from her a renewal of their friction in the past year, when every discussion with Caroline served to dissuade Charles from his affections for Jane.
Caroline could read her brother’s thoughts at that moment, and she knew why he eagerly accepted her kindness now. Though Charles’s love for Jane must change the siblings’ relationship, he would not wish for an estrangement from his youngest sister. They were closer in age to each other than either was to Louisa, much their elder; and Louisa had married young to Aubrey Hurst. She had been peripheral to their lives for some years. But Charles and Caroline had been quite close. Indeed, it had been assumed that Caroline would reside with Charles and oversee his home when it was established. That she now willingly ceded that place to Jane relieved Charles visibly.
Caroline observed that as she conversed with one happy couple, the second of them had been entertaining Mr Tremayne. They seemed in earnest but cordial debate over some issue. Caroline noted, however, that on several occasions Mr Darcy had glanced in her direction, a look of puzzlement mixed with doubt on his countenance, as though only half his attention was on his small party and, with the other half, he listened to Caroline’s own discourse.
But Caroline was not so naïve as to think Darcy’s attentions were diverted solely in admiration of her. It had been made plain from events begun at the moment of Caroline’s arrival at Netherfield that this battle would not be won so easily or so quickly. Even her apricot gown, with the glow it gave to Caroline’s skin and the deepening hue it afforded her tresses, was not so enchanting as to draw away Mr Darcy so soon. And she had yet to speak a word to him other than their initial greeting.
So why did Mr Darcy continue his occasional glances at her party? Caroline surmised that he was recalling the past year, when he had joined with her in a plot to keep Charles from Jane. Given that history, he may doubt the genuineness of Caroline’s good will towards the couple now. Did he now wonder if she harboured any hurt feelings over Charles’s choice? If she would embarrass herself – and Charles – with some inappropriate declarations?
Mr Darcy may even be wondering about her intentions towards his own pairing, curious as to how she would react to it. After all, they had been friends and occasional conspirators; it could not have escaped Mr Darcy, her own interest in him over time. But Caroline would not show herself so openly now. This evening had impressed upon her the need for care in her designs.
No. Caroline would not take any direct action tonight, in word or deed. She would watch – learn what she could of the situation, present herself amiable on all counts – and then consider carefully her next actions. After all, she had some time yet to effect a rift in Darcy and Elizabeth’s attachment. She would not fall prey to failure by moving too quickly and without due consideration.
Caroline’s notice was recalled to her brother as, following a nod from a servant, he announced that dinner was served. She graciously accepted Mr Tremayne’s arm and allowed him to escort her to the dining parlour following the two engaged couples.
Behind her Aubrey Hurst, escorting Louisa, was muttering about his empty stomach. “And none too soon either. I was beginning to wonder if we should gain anything of advantage this evening.”
Indeed, thought Caroline.
Chapter Four:
Reflections
A
s Sara Allen began to pull the heavy drapery across the bedchamber’s window, Caroline took a final glance at the moon in the reflection of her dressing table glass. Though it shone with pulsating clarity, it was yet a week or more before this orb would be full. As such, Caroline could not blame it for the odd evening she had just concluded. Without its magical pull to attribute to events, she was at a loss to comprehend how the world had seemed to turn upside down when she was not looking. For nothing had gone as planned tonight; and Caroline could no more explain what had transpired than she could understand the suffocating heaviness that lay upon her now that she was alone in her rooms.
With the moon’s distracting presence now doused from her mirror, Caroline was left with nothing but her own image to contemplate. This she did with particular care, leaning from her bench towards the glass in concentration. She looked the same, certainly; so why did she feel so at odds with herself? Looking closer still, she detected a few small lines beginning to form about her mouth – and were her eyes not just a little more hooded than they used to be? With her apricot gown relegated now to the closet, had her skin lost its rose-and-cream tinge, giving way to this colourless, waxen pallor?
Oh, stop! She shook herself. It is this damnable circumstance that has me seeing flaws everywhere! Surely one does not change so in a mere matter of hours; it is only my mood giving the lie to my eyes. After all, she chided herself further, you are only two and twenty, hardly headed for the grave! She shook herself yet again to instil some much-needed sense into the woman in the mirror.
~~~~~~
Sara turned to her mistress after closing the drapes, to see Caroline studying her reflection as she sat at her dressing table. A most curious expression lingered on the lady’s face, one Sara was unaccustomed to witnessing in her charge. It very nearly spoke of regret – of weary disappointment. Sara had often recognized such expressions of resignation; they were common enough among servants. Life could be a cruel teacher to those of few means and fewer expectations.
But Sara never would have wagered her mistress looking thus. She was worried for Caroline. This quest her lady had set herself was a fool’s errand and could only bring misery and sorrow. Sara watched as Caroline shuddered at some thought known only to her. The maid knew there was nothing she could do or say to dissuade the Miss, however, from the course she had set herself. She could not even admit to suspecting what Caroline was about. Such things were not discussed between a lady and a servant. Regardless, however, Sara silently vowed to be especially attentive to Caroline – she felt certain her mistress would be in need of kindness in the coming days, even if such kindness went unacknowledged and was pr
offered from her maid.
Remembering the lateness of the hour, Sara stirred herself, crossed over to Caroline and began to remove the pins from her carefully coiled hair.
~~~~~~
The working of Sara’s fingers in Caroline’s hair brought little comfort to the lady. Usually her routine before retiring served to calm her for sleep, but Caroline had too many thoughts pent up that required expression before she could be soothed tonight. She crossed an arm over her chest, resting her hand upon the opposite shoulder. The simple act brought to her unwanted the image of the drawing room before dinner, and the glimpse of Mr Darcy’s hand briefly resting upon Elizabeth Bennet’s arm.
It was an intimacy Caroline could not expunge from her thoughts; it replayed itself over and over in her mind. Her own hand upon her shoulder now felt cold as she closed her eyes to feel a different touch, imagined a warm sensation radiating through her from a simple caress of his hand upon her arm.
Oh, why do I torture myself in this manner? But she knew the answer. She could not forget – would never forget – the vision of Mr Darcy walking into the drawing room in earnest conversation with his new friend. It was as if the very earth had stopped spinning abruptly to acknowledge his presence, and Caroline had had to step back to secure her balance. No matter that she closed her eyes now, they still held the resonance of his form in that room and throughout the evening. Her every sense sharpened to dwell on him.
Her meeting with Mr Darcy, her first direct encounter with him following her arrival, had been so keenly anticipated that she had thought his actual presence might disappoint. Not at all. He had never appeared more handsome, more formidable, more… inaccessible.
Caroline drove the last impression from her. She would not allow herself to dwell on such things as remained to be seen. As Allen combed her hair and began to work it into a loose braid for sleeping, she returned to her perusal of Mr Darcy during the evening.
He had not looked to be changed outwardly. He had not suddenly shifted from an exquisite of the ton to a country squire in his dress or carriage upon his betrothal within that realm. His perfectly tailored coat fitted him in the same way as before, as if the cloth sought to caress his form in admiration. That one recalcitrant lock of hair – the only habitual blemish to his otherwise perfect grooming – still threw itself upon his brow when he turned his head. There was, perhaps, a new sense of ease in his stillness. Never a demonstrative person, yet Mr Darcy had always before appeared on the verge of some act when not engaging in one fully. But Caroline noted that tonight, his hands lay still, at rest at his sides as he spoke with Mr Tremayne; his smile did not appear contrived in the least, and his eyes did not slide round the room from time to time as if gauging the nearest path of escape. Mr Darcy had appeared … at his ease, in a way that she had never witnessed before.
Somewhere deep inside, Caroline knew that this change in Mr Darcy was attributable to his relationship with Elizabeth Bennet. After this evening, there could be no doubt of that. What could the man find in this country mort to admire? ‘Fine eyes’ she may have, but little else of refinement! She had a laxity in her carriage unsuited to a woman of fashion. She was far too outspoken in her opinions, venturing even to comment to Mr Tremayne this evening on the current campaigns. Totally unsuitable in a lady. She had no care for the maintenance of her person; one had only to recall her appearance in this very house last year halfway to the knees in mud to see that. And her family – well, the less said and noticed about that gaggle was all to the good. And yet Mr Darcy appeared totally and utterly under her spell.
It was unfair. Had Caroline not spent half a lifetime doing all that was asked of her? Had she not attended that vile school, despised at first by pretentious girls of the upper crust for her northern accent and provincial style? And had she not learnt all the lessons it had to offer, both in and out of the schoolroom? Had she not set the girls on their ears by the time she had finished with her charm and talents, such that her contemporaries now clamoured to ensure she attended their balls and their little evenings of music? Was she not, in fact, now the embodiment of an accomplished woman?
She had done everything asked of her to become a lady of the ton. To become, in fact, worthy of a great marriage. Was it so much to ask, given her accomplishments, that she effect a marriage with someone equally worthy of her talents? Caroline had felt no lack of suitors over the past few years. Her endowment no less than her person had seen to that. And Caroline had every intention of marrying well. But not for her an Aubrey Hurst; Caroline wanted more. Though a number of her suitors might carry prestige or some fortune or general amiability, none had possessed all three in quantity. None, that is, until her brother had brought Mr Darcy to dinner one evening. Since that moment, Caroline had no eye for other men who signalled their interest in her. Since that moment, Caroline had believed she had found her purpose. She would marry Mr Darcy – for family honour, for position – and for affection. Did she not deserve this for all her diligence over the years? To marry as much for love as for advancement?
She loved Fitzwilliam Darcy. Though he held no title, a condition Caroline was sure was one day obtainable with her assistance, nothing else was lacking in the man. His wealth would attract any marriageable chit, but it was more than that to Caroline. He was intelligent, reserved and yet possessed of wit and inclined to use it on occasion; a stable man, a devoted steward to his properties and most attentive guardian to Georgiana, his young sister. Caroline could well imagine that thoughtful care transferred to a wife of discernment. And his mere presence in a room drew the attention of others. Drew her attention. His gaze upon her sent a rush of blood to her toes; a moment’s converse with him left her breathing a little more deeply, a dance with him left her breathless.
Caroline deserved such a man in her life. And she had spent months, nearly two years at that, cultivating his regard. To have it overturned now and by a woman of less refinement than her own maid, was simply unfair.
~~~~~~
Miss Caroline was off in another place again, staring unseeing in the mirror and sighing occasionally as Sara combed, then braided her hair. When the plait was finished, still her mistress sat unmindful of her surroundings. Sara felt a tug of concern. In spite of herself, she lifted her hand to Caroline’s head and smoothed it down the back slowly, petting her gently then repeating the motion again to offer what little comfort she could do. Caroline seemed not to notice, though her eyes in the glass flickered at Sara’s touch.
After a moment, Sara left the room and walked briskly to the pantry closet at the end of the hallway. There she prepared her lady a tray of tea, weak so as not to hinder her sleep but hot enough to restore her to her faculties. She returned with the tray to Caroline’s room to find her yet before the mirror.
Sara placed her hand lightly on her lady’s shoulder and felt the woman flinch a bit at the gesture. Gently, she shook Caroline until her mistress shifted her gaze back from the world of reverie to her maid’s countenance in the reflection.
Sara lowered her eyes and curtseyed, to spare her employer any embarrassment. “There is tea next your bed, Miss. Is there anything more you would like tonight?”
“Oh… no, Allen… thank you. I believe I will retire now.” Caroline rose and went to her bed, where she slipped out of her dressing gown and sat. Allen made to leave, but Caroline called her back before she reached the door.
“Oh, and I will rise early in the morning, Allen. I want to go riding before breakfast.”
“Yes, Miss. I will see to your habit.” Sara went into the adjoining closet and gathered Caroline’s riding garb. She would return it in the morning pressed and fresh. As she closed the door behind her, Sara noted Miss Caroline arranging herself comfortably in bed, pulling the linens up around her neck.
~~~~~~
Caroline sank her head down into her cushions, exhaustion from the day’s events lending stiffness to her neck and joints. She reached up a hand to cradle her neck and slowly rolled it round
to ease its tightness before yawning with an exhalation of long sighs of disappointment.
The day had not been a total loss. She had taken the measure of her challenge and it was grave indeed. The hold Miss Elizabeth exercised over Mr Darcy was stronger than Caroline could have foreseen. In truth, Caroline had only ever witnessed such attentions as Mr Darcy offered to the lady in one other set of circumstances, and that when he was in the company of his sister, Georgiana. It would take every reserve of will Caroline possessed, as well as all her acumen, to sever this ill-founded bond. But she must persevere in it, she must succeed. Her happiness depended upon it.
With this resolve, she closed her eyes determined to rest well and be at her best in the morning, when she would certainly have an opportunity to claim Mr Darcy’s undivided attentions. She curled up onto her side and closed her eyes.
But though she could assume the position of sleep, she could not command its attendance on her. Countless times she closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly shut against her thoughts; and countless times she opened them again to stare into the darkness. It was of no use – open or shut, her eyes persisted in reliving the evening just concluded. Caroline gave in and stared upwards at the bed canopy, seeing the minutes of tonight’s dinner party tick themselves off in all their detail…
Chapter Five:
Skirmishes
C
aroline entered the dining room and had to check herself from walking to the head of the table, instead relegated to watching Jane Bennet assume that place by right. Caroline found herself seated between her brother Aubrey and Mr Tremayne, the latter given the honour of Jane’s attentions to Caroline’s left. Anticipating little of conversation thus situated, Caroline consoled herself with the idea that her placement allowed her gaze to rest quite naturally upon Mr Darcy who held place to Jane’s left across the table. She also noted with satisfaction that Elizabeth Bennet was separated from Mr Darcy by Louisa. Indeed, her rival Miss Bennet already engaged Charles in discourse at the lower end of the table. This situation, by no means ideal, could still prove advantageous.
