Caroline's ComeUppance

by Tess Quinn

  “I have not had the opportunity as yet to wish you joy. You cannot appreciate my enthusiasm in renewing our acquaintance.”

  “Not at all, Miss Bingley, I am quite certain our enthusiasms are as one in this.”

  A short silence ensued whilst the two ladies regarded each other. Their concentration one upon the other was broken by the approach of Louisa. “Jane tells me you found much to suit you in the shops in town.”

  “We were fortunate, yes, to find all our needs so easily met. Mrs Weston’s skills are extensive.”

  “Of course, we frequent the lady ourselves for our gowns. You could not have found better.”

  “And the selection of fabrics and trims we found to be astonishing in comparison with our Meryton draper. All our purchases were made quite handily, and our gowns will be ready in good time. It was quite a relief for our mother.”

  “I can well believe it,” said Louisa. “There is nothing to compare with the provisions of town. You will come to know of it quite well when you reside there yourself.”

  Caroline was tiring quickly of this discourse. She had no desire to imagine Elizabeth as mistress of the Darcy house in Berkeley Square, nor of Pemberley. She made her excuses and went to join Jane for coffee.

  “My dear Jane. How delighted you must be at this turn of events. I am certain you and Charles are well suited, and shall find great happiness here at Netherfield, so near to your parents and sisters. I only hope your sister Miss Elizabeth will not find life amiss so far removed from the bosom of her family.”

  “Oh, I have no trepidation on that account. Elizabeth has always shown a streak of independence that offers her composure in any setting. Surely it cannot have escaped your notice.”

  “No, no it has not. But to take on a household such as Pemberley, at so young an age and with so little experience of such an estate must surely be a daunting prospect.” Caroline took care to present a countenance of concern and modulate her voice to one of benevolence.

  “I am told Pemberley has a most excellent housekeeper to assist – and in any event, I am confident of my sister’s abilities. She is most resourceful. I am certain Mr Darcy will ensure Lizzy is both comfortably situated and at ease with her new responsibilities. He is quite solicitous of her. I could not be more content that she has found such a gentleman as Mr Darcy – indeed, I believe their match to be quite as perfect as my own with your brother.”

  Caroline nodded her agreement, struggling to maintain a generous demeanour. There would be no gains made tonight with Jane. She must step carefully so as not to rouse suspicions overmuch. It was enough that Miss Elizabeth guessed her aims, there was no doubt of that. She must assert her innocent intentions with the remaining party and with Mr Darcy in particular.

  As if her thoughts of him conjured the very man, the drawing room door opened and the men rejoined the ladies. Darcy crossed immediately to Elizabeth and Louisa, the latter of whom then drifted to a settee where her husband had stationed himself with a brandy. Caroline watched surreptitiously the interactions between Mr Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. They were quite at ease in each other’s company, and laughed often as they spoke. Caroline felt a cold weight descend upon her; her limbs felt heavy and an uncomfortable knot formed low in her stomach.

  After a few moments, Aubrey Hurst roused himself to suggest a round of cards, but he was to be disappointed. The party from Longbourn cited fatigue after the events of the long day, and begged leave to defer a late evening to another time. Charles, at pains to accommodate, at once called for their carriage to be brought round.

  Mr Tremayne was gracious in his thanks to Charles, rattling on endlessly of how much he had enjoyed the evening’s company; then acknowledging each of the ladies in turn. To Caroline, he bowed low, and then said, “My dear, this has been a most illuminating evening.” He continued to describe his enjoyments, but Caroline paid scant attention. Her concentration was directed towards Mr Darcy and Elizabeth, exchanging their farewells. She watched as Mr Darcy’s hand reached to take Elizabeth’s, releasing it only after whispering something near Elizabeth’s ear and squeezing the hand in a proprietary manner. The gesture had been brief and none but a careful observer would have noted it. But Caroline’s heart sank at the intimacy.

  “Mr Darcy,” called Mr Tremayne, “again, sir, my thanks for your escort. Will we have the pleasure of your company at Longbourn on the morrow?”

  “In the afternoon, certainly,” replied Lizzy. “But it is Mr Darcy’s habit to begin each day with a ride, and I would not deprive him of it any longer now we are returned to the country.”

  “Indeed, I look forward with great relish to a long ride in the mornings,” said Darcy.

  “You do not accompany him, then, Miss Elizabeth?”

  “I do not, sir. I am afraid I have never learnt the art of comfort with horses, the activity is alien to me.”

  Caroline saw a glimmer of hope of a sudden. Mr Darcy would be riding alone tomorrow, or at least he believed so. But Caroline was an excellent horsewoman, just one accomplishment of her upbringing. She might join Mr Darcy in his ride quite naturally with no concern about Miss Elizabeth Bennet intervening. It was not a major victory, this evening had been most disappointing; but it offered an opportunity that Caroline would not ignore.

  Charles and Mr Darcy walked with the Longbourn party to their carriage, leaving Caroline to suffer her brother-in-law’s grumblings over the early end to the evening’s entertainments. She tolerated his opinions only for the gain of addressing Mr Darcy unencumbered by his fiancée upon his return. She quite liked the idea of hers being the last face he would see before retiring to his dreams. It was some moments before she heard voices once again outside the drawing room door, but when it finally opened, only Charles entered.

  “Where is Mr Darcy?” asked Caroline. “Surely he did not accompany the carriage to Longbourn again?”

  “No, no he did not,” replied Charles. “He has retired for the night himself after a full day’s events.”

  Caroline sighed in frustration. Would nothing work in her favour this day?

  Chapter Six:

  First Sortie

  24 October 1797

  T

  uesday dawned fair, though the crispness of autumn permeated the early morning air. Caroline Bingley’s wellbeing could not match the promise of the day. It had been a scant few hours only since she had finally drifted into restless slumber and now here was Allen rousing her with her cursed cheerful chatter and the clock scarcely gone eight.

  “I took the liberty, Miss, to bring you a light repast. You will ride the better for being alert and not hankering for a buttered roll to fill you.”

  Caroline winced at the thought of food. Her dinner from the night before still lay heavy in her stomach and her heart. She felt numb from over thinking herself, having recalled the events of the preceding day again and again in minute detail throughout the long night. Now that she felt capable of claiming sleep, the needs of a new day instead called upon her. She was half prepared to send Allen away with instructions to wake her a few hours hence, until Caroline recalled her business of the morning. She weighed her options, but knew she must rise to the occasion.

  Mr Darcy would be riding this morning – alone. It was too singular a chance for Caroline to join him, perhaps gain some ground, to throw away simply because she was tired. She only hoped her faculties would not fail her; but she reassured herself that she had been well-schooled in her arts. They would not disappoint. She groaned with resignation, and threw back the counterpane. Allen had already drawn and warmed water for the basin and busied herself with her lady’s riding habit while Caroline washed.

  She noted that her maid seemed to be fussing more than usual and darted looks of concern towards Caroline every few seconds. She had a vague recollection of Allen actually consoling her in some manner the previous night, coupled with breakfast this morning. The image of a mother hen seemed at odds in a woman younger than Caroline herself, yet she had to
admit the cosseted feeling was not unwelcome.

  Once dressed, Caroline sat at her table to have her hair brushed. Allen threw a protective wrap around Caroline’s gown and began to work out the plait from the night before. It took some careful effort, as Caroline’s tossing and turning during the late hours had wrought tangles even within the braid.

  Caroline took a piece of roll and began to nibble on it. Expecting it not to agree, she was surprised at how easily the first bite took in her stomach, and haphazardly ate the rest as Allen combed her tresses. When Allen began to form a coil from a section of hair, Caroline came alert and stopped the maid.

  “I will wear my hair loose this morning – just sweep back this portion for me, will you?” she said as she picked up a lock of hair at her brow.

  “Of course, Miss. I will do you up proper.”

  Caroline glanced in the looking glass and noted that, overall, there was little evidence of her bad night in her countenance. A bit of shadow under her eyes lent her cheeks a slight paleness, but some pinches before she left the house would remedy this.

  “Do you know if my brother or Mr Darcy is about yet?” She did not much care regarding her brother’s whereabouts, but did not wish to be too obviously seeking information concerning Mr Darcy.

  “Mr Bingley, Miss, is still abed as far as I know. Henshaw was only just preparing a rousing tray for him when I came to you. But Mr Darcy is about. Grayson came through the laundry as I was pressing your gown, his duties to Mr Darcy being completed.

  Blast! thought Caroline. He has probably already left the stables. I will have to find a way to intercept him.

  Seeing that Allen had finished her hair – the maid having swept a top knot to one side nicely to accommodate a riding bonnet while the bulk of her lady’s ginger hair lay about her shoulders – Caroline impatiently removed the protective wrap from her gown.

  “Have you sent word to the stable to have the grey saddled?”

  “Yes, Miss, some thirty minutes or more gone.”

  “Good.” She stood to depart, giving herself one last glimpse in the glass. She would do. She noted Allen smiling benevolently behind her as she made to depart; she briefly faced her maid. “Thank you, Allen,” she said to the startled maid, then turned and swept from the room before Sara could recover enough to curtsey.

  ~~~~~~

  Sara watched from her mistress’s chamber window as Caroline strode across the garden towards the stable block. The lady’s head was high, her steps confident. Sara shook her head in wonder.

  Caroline Bingley was not so bad an employer. All women of wealth were similar in their ways, but Sara had a fair life. Caroline was demanding, true. In town she was often impatient with Sara, but not so much as to abuse the maid. Caroline did not make of her as much a confidant as some ladies might do; but at least Sara did not experience one tenth the indignities that some other of her fellow abigails did as a matter of custom with their venomous mistresses. Of course, as Louisa’s maid Biddy was always saying, it was not a matter of Miss Caroline or Mrs Aubrey being nicer than most so much as that the maids hardly signified in their awareness. If they were spared indignities, it was because the ladies did not register their existence. They were only noticed when a desired dress was not to hand or hairs could not be coiled to satisfaction, or slippers were scuffed. Sara made sure those events did not occur. She made herself as unremarkable as possible, and it served her well. She not only lived in relative comfort, but often found life interesting in her Grosvenor Square attic room and her mistress’s employ. Sara was often privy as well, given her intimate knowledge of her lady from waiting upon her, to fascinating glimpses of Caroline’s temperament.

  But she had never before witnessed anything of this like! Caroline Bingley was simply not herself these last weeks. Generally critical of everything with a mocking tongue, she now seemed disinterested in anything that did not feature Mr Darcy; and where that gentleman was concerned, Caroline seemed to dither between mawkish sentimentality and cold derision. But she had only the one object in sight, that poor man. That Miss Caroline was troubled Sara could easily see. That her trouble could only escalate as she followed her present course was equally obvious. Sara wondered only which of Caroline’s temperaments would endure when her hopes had been quashed.

  ~~~~~

  A groom led a saddled grey out of its stall as Caroline arrived at the stable.

  “Is he ready?”

  “Aye, Miss, he is. Frisky he is today an’ all, too, with th’ change in th’ season.”

  “Good.” Caroline began to mount the horse, allowing the groom to assist in handing her up. “How long ago did Mr Darcy set out?”

  “Not long, Miss. I reckon it be no more’n ten minutes gone.”

  “Did he say where he would ride?” Caroline’s teeth grabbed the lower corner of her lip as she realized she was being less than circumspect. “I, em, have a message from my brother to relay to the gentleman should I see him.”

  “No, Miss, he didn’ say, ‘s I recall.” Caroline sighed, admitting to herself that she expected no less. Mr Darcy would not feel it necessary to condescend explaining his plans to a stable boy, no more than Caroline would do. She brightened a bit, however, when the groom added, “But I saw him off, Miss, -- he rode over that way, towards the orchards.”

  “Ah, good!” She might still take some trouble to hit upon Mr Darcy’s exact route, but at least she knew the direction to begin.

  “Miss, d’ye want me to take the message, in case Mr Darcy returns ‘fore you find him?”

  “No, no, it is not necessary. It hardly matters so much.” Caroline glanced at the groom. Was that a smirk? He quickly bowed his head down in agreement, and when he raised it again, his countenance was blank, his lips pressed together firmly. Caroline nearly lashed out at him for insolence, but then chose to bow to discretion and not call any more attention upon herself, particularly as she could not be certain that there was anything in the quick expression she thought she had seen. Truly, it was not like her to have been so careless with a servant. Without another word to the man, Caroline urged her grey forward, slowly at first; then, on turning round once to ensure the groom was not still watching her own progress, increased her speed and trotted her grey towards the orchard.

  ~~~~~~

  Jamie Bell walked back into the stable to continue the work of the day – cleaning out the muck, freshening straw, giving the remaining horses a quick brush and a walk. He had not waited to see the lady on her way; his curiosity needed no proof to know exactly what direction Miss Bingley had ridden.

  “She on her way, then?” asked Jemmy, the head groom.

  “Aye.”

  “Poor gent, have no peace today…”

  “Aye, I ‘spect not.”

  Jamie pictured Caroline one last time, the expectation ill concealed on her face as she had asked where Mr Darcy had gone. He laughed and shrugged; he had little time or inclination to dwell on thoughts of Miss Bingley. Her maid, now, that might be another consideration entirely. He would not mind getting to know the pretty blond a bit; she seemed sweet-tempered, too amiable for the likes of the lady she served. But a lady’s maid would not entertain the attentions of a simple groom, and there was almost no chance for their paths to cross naturally. Still, Jamie smiled in daydreams as he went back to work. He started to sweep the rushes in Parsifal’s stall. Mr Darcy could usually be counted on to show his appreciation when his stallion was well attended.

  ~~~~~~

  The grey shied a bit when they reached the edge of the trees, but Caroline urged it forward. She could cut through this corner of the orchard and soon be in the open land that led down to the river. That field was sparse of trees and she would be able to see a fair distance in each direction. If Mr Darcy was not too far ahead of her, she might be able to see him in the area.

  She threaded the horse through the trees, taking no notice of anything but her exit point. Her attentions were not excited by the air, redolent with late pe
ars that either clung stubbornly to branches readying themselves for winter’s onset or lay upon the ground, half-eaten by nocturnal creatures. She could not know that Mr Darcy had, only a short time before, stopped a few moments to enjoy this fragrance, naturally calling to mind that day when Elizabeth had first assaulted his senses on her arrival in Bingley’s breakfast room seeking her ill sister. Elizabeth had walked for miles in the early morning to Netherfield and, along with the mud for which Caroline had later derided her, she had carried in with her the aroma of wild dill and pears. From that moment, Darcy could not experience those scents without picturing that lady in his mind’s eye – her hair windswept, her eyes bright and her skin flush with health. The air in the woods today was as fresh as Elizabeth’s wit; fresh as that day she had unwittingly claimed Darcy as her own. Though he had fought long with himself to deny his feelings, that had been the moment Mr Darcy had lost his heart. But Caroline had no notion of this as she made her way to the break in the trees.

  Having cleared the confines of the orchard, Caroline stopped briefly to survey the land around her, looking for some sign of another rider in the distance. She saw none. She debated which direction to ride, but after only a moment of hesitation, logic dictated that she take the bearing towards Longbourn. She decided to follow the river, coaxing her mount towards the bank, and then turning east towards Meryton. For some time she encountered no one. She had passed the turnoff for Meryton through a wooded area, and was riding now adjacent to the footpath leading from the village to Longbourn and the Bennet property.

  When she reached Lucas Lodge, Caroline stopped. If Darcy had come this way it would not do to ride farther in this direction and meet with him. There could only be one objective in taking this route, and should he see Caroline here, Darcy could have no doubt of her seeking him out; she would hardly be likely to call alone upon the ladies of Longbourn, and certainly never arriving on horseback or so early in the day.