Caroline's ComeUppance

by Tess Quinn

  As she began to move away from the group, however, Caroline cringed to hear her name called.

  “Oh, Miss Bingley!”

  She turned to address the cluster of women. “Mrs Bennet.” She could not bring herself to curtsey to this woman, elder or not, but could not be seen to be rude; so she dipped her head slightly in that direction to acknowledge her. The gesture escaped the matriarch. Caroline silently nodded as well to the other ladies in their turn.

  “Come and join our converse?” said Mrs Bennet. She patted an unoccupied space on the bench where she sat. “For I was just telling my friends here how delighted we are to be joining our families together through our Jane.”

  Caroline grimaced. She might seek to use Mrs Bennet if opportunity presented itself, but the last thing she wished to endure was anything approaching intimacy with the woman.

  “I regret madam that I was just going in search of my sister. She is wanted in the dancing hall. Perhaps another time we can speak of your… interesting… family.”

  “Ah, well, yes, perhaps another time. After all, we are family now, or soon will be. And you must come to dine with us before you return to town, with your brother, two courses at the least.”

  Caroline nodded and turned, thinking as she faced away from the ladies that she may have to tolerate Charles’s marriage with a Bennet, but she would never consider herself family to them. As she began to move away from the group, she heard Mrs Bennet resuming her conversation with her friends: “What a very odd girl she is! Still, one must make an attempt at cordiality for the sake of my Jane…”

  Caroline’s eyes narrowed and her step faltered just for an instant as though she would turn to readdress the group from which she had just parted; but she swallowed the reply that had formed in her throat and moved on. She made a show of looking for Louisa and, not finding her in the tea room or the card room, returned to the dance hall. A new set had just begun, and she noted that Hurst was making good on his earlier promise. He and Louisa were engaged in a foursome near the end of the line.

  She noted that Mr Bennet and Mr Tremayne, along with her imminent new sister Jane and the dour one, that middle sister, stood clustered near one wall whilst the gentlemen undertook a lively debate with Sir William Lucas; and Caroline determined to avoid that part of the hall. She looked around for somewhere to escape unnoticed, instead catching sight of a very welcome opportunity. Mr Darcy was standing to one side, watching the dancers, and very much on his own.

  Caroline walked towards the gentleman, forcing herself to look around as she did so in order to appear nonchalant in finding him.

  “Mr Darcy, it seems you have misplaced your dance partner yet again.”

  “So I have.” He nodded in the direction of the middle of the line. “Your brother has claimed her, as Miss Bennet was called away by her sister Mary to settle a debate some where.”

  “Yet you do not heed your Miss Bennet’s command and dance with some other poor unfortunate?”

  Darcy gave Caroline a sharp glance at the word ‘command’ but did not comment upon it directly, and returned his gaze to the dancers at large in an impassive manner. After a brief pause, he said, “No, no unfortunates. In point of fact, I chose to stand the last two with Miss Catherine.”

  Caroline was uncertain to whom Mr Darcy referred until she followed the gentleman’s quick glance across the room and realized he indicated the young Bennet sister they called ‘Kitty’, who was now herself dancing briskly with the woolly-headed Mr Cramphorn. She almost wished she had been present to witness the spectacle of proper Mr Darcy with the wild and silly adolescent. In a wry voice, she said, “How invigorating that must have been for you. Such an… energetic girl.”

  “She does sport her enthusiasms readily,” replied Darcy in an even-toned manner. “Yet I find her adequately agreeable now that she finds herself under the influence of her elder siblings.”

  A sidelong glance at the gentleman as he continued to direct his eyes towards the lines found Caroline wondering what fleeting thought had contracted Mr Darcy’s brow, until he continued. “Indeed, I believe Miss Catherine rather puts me in mind somewhat of my own sister.”

  “Your own --! Of Georgiana?” Caroline sputtered. “Surely you are making sport, Mr Darcy. There can be no comparison beyond they share the same sex and age!”

  “To the contrary: I grant you, Miss Catherine may lack a certain refinement of education; but it is her innocent sense of wonder with all things that bears the similarity. A sense of hovering between girlhood and the maturative, if you will.”

  “You, Sir, seem to have become quite well acquainted with all the Bennet family of late.” The sneer in Caroline’s attitude was quite audible. Mr Darcy regarded her for a moment, saying nothing. He looked to be giving serious consideration, but whether to Caroline or to self assessment, she could not discern. Finally, he replied in a low, solemn voice of caveat.

  “An attitude of acquaintance that you, yourself, might benefit from, madam, given the familial relationship you will soon acquire as well.”

  Caroline nearly released an invective at such a recommendation, but held it when she recognized the earnest intention in Mr Darcy’s look and tone. She chose to alter her approach somewhat.

  “I have just come, in fact, from some converse with Mrs Bennet.” She smiled as if with innocent intentions in recalling the woman. She was rewarded by the sight of Mr Darcy’s tightening jaw and glazed eyes upon mention of the woman’s name, but he remained silent.

  “Your future mother-in-law has quite decided opinions of all her…” she hesitated before finishing, “new relations. She delights in acquainting all and sundry with her views.” Knowing Mr Darcy to be a fiercely private man, Caroline was certain to draw a response from him. Yet none came.

  “I was most interested in hearing that Mrs Bennet was disappointed by Miss Elizabeth’s refusal of Mr Collins last year, a marriage that would, I believe, have kept their estate in the family.”

  Mr Darcy looked at Caroline, his eyes wide and a carefully composed detachment upon his countenance that convinced Caroline she imparted news to the gentleman, though he did not speak.

  “Yes, indeed, Mrs Bennet seemed quite filled with regret over the incidence until she realized that Miss Bennet had a better match in view.” She smiled conspiratorially and added, “How fortunate for Mrs Bennet that her daughter succeeded in her alternative arrangement.”

  This last brought comment finally from Mr Darcy. “Mrs Bennet is mistaken.” The glance he threw at Caroline brooked no doubt that he did not refer to Mrs Bennet alone. Caroline opened her mouth to demur when Mr Darcy added: “In fact, I have steadfast reasons to be assured that Miss Bennet held no such design.”

  Caroline’s curiosity was piqued by this assertion, but no amount of questioning from her would draw additional comment from Mr Darcy. Finally, she changed the topic yet again.

  “Mrs Bennet also mentioned her recent travel to town with the Misses Bennet, and her disappointment in not being made a guest in your house.”

  Mr Darcy turned to Caroline then, his eyes expressing careful sceptic thought. “I made such an offer to the entire party, and was declined. Miss Elizabeth Bennet felt it for the best that their party reside with their relatives in Cheapside.”

  Caroline fairly bristled at the named location; she knew its composition well, her grandfather having once owned a depot in the quarter. “Why ever would she wish that, do you think? I cannot credit they would be so comfortably ensconced in such lodgings as they would enjoy in Berkeley Square, the hospitality of your household being without peer.”

  Mr Darcy tilted his head just barely to acknowledge the compliment implied before answering. “Perhaps Miss Bennet considered the comfort of more than herself alone. She wished, of course, to be afforded the opportunity to visit her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and their children and occasion no affront to them. And since Georgiana is in residence in town as well, perhaps she concerned herself with inflicting a large
party upon my sister’s routine without sufficient notice and acquaintance.”

  “Still in all, I find it curious. I cannot but wonder if perhaps she feared too close and constant an acquaintance with her relations might cause you to come to regret your understanding. You cannot deny Mrs Bennet’s propensity to offend.” Again, no immediate response came from her interlocutor; he turned his head somewhat to the side towards Caroline and fixed his gaze on her in a show of deliberation, and she noted the telltale pulsing along his cheek that suggested he ground his teeth.

  Exasperated, Caroline declared, “Oh, come, Mr Darcy. Neither my brother nor you can claim to find it favourable in securing a family liaison with such a busybody, nor deny upon whose assets her current amiability is sustained.”

  Darcy stiffened. He flicked his eyes away from her for but an instant, then returned them to her challenging gaze. For a long moment, however, he remained taciturn. Finally, as if reaching a decision, he took a breath, released it, and addressed Caroline.

  “I do not wed Mrs Bennet. I sought, though I little knew it – and was favoured to find – a companion who is my equal or more in intelligence and sense; who is lively and full of wit; who recognizes the absurdities of life as well as what is most important, and doles out compassion as easily as good judgment. When once such a person is found, the only choice is to embrace her fully with all the people and idiosyncrasies she carries with her; to undertake if necessary to see in others what she is drawn to. In short, madam, to open oneself to understanding one’s connections before rendering judgment upon them. I am certain your brother feels no less.”

  Caroline was astonished to hear this speech from the gentleman, not least for never having heard him respond so garrulously to any inquiry as for the content of his reply; and she was further flabbergasted when he continued. “We were wrong, you and I, Miss Bingley, last year concerning Jane Bennet. What we took for disinterest was natural reserve, something I should have understood had I been more open and attendant to circumstances. We saw mercenary positioning in a young woman who has, indeed, no artifice. We judged a lady and found her wanting based on our own experience when, in fact, our jaded eyes could not distinguish true affection for your brother. We injured both for believing ourselves superior in judgment. I regret fully my part in their temporary separation; and hope I have learnt better discretion in concluding or dismissing too rapidly the merits of those whom I encounter.”

  “Mr Darcy, I cannot believe you; have you suddenly become so egalitarian as your speech indicates?”

  “No, Miss Bingley, I make no such claim. I merely point out that if we were wrong in pronouncing against Jane Bennet in haste, then perhaps it is wise to defer further judgments without sufficient proof of their validity. That vanity nearly cost your brother his happiness, as well as my own. If Miss Elizabeth Bennet, a woman whom I admire and esteem more than any other, finds virtues, despite their outward foibles, in those who are well known to her, then it is incumbent upon me to attempt to see the same through her eyes before declaring her judgments faulty.”

  Caroline felt she had been physically slapped. Her head reeled from the candour in Mr Darcy’s implied indictment. She stood, stunned, simply looking at the man, her mouth slightly parted in shock. Mr Darcy appeared to note her discomposure and softened both his glance and his tone as he said, “Miss Bingley, perhaps some of the particulars of this match are not optimal, but they are more than compensated in a depth of feeling that is impregnable. You cannot change what is to come. For your welfare, your peace of mind and the wellbeing of all your family, can you not set aside your bitterness and accept this marriage? You would find great solace, I believe, in releasing your animosities and making a friend of Miss Bennet. Only anguish can come to all those we care for, certainly, by keeping her an adversary.”

  All her powers of speech failed Caroline at this moment. She was defeated. Mr Darcy had chosen Miss Bennet over her, and as much as told her to accept the condition or lose his friendship. She felt totally drained. How could this have happened? What could she possibly say now to extricate herself from the most humiliating moment of her life? She forced the words from her lips, anxious merely to get away somewhere.

  “Thank you, Mr Darcy, for your counsel. I shall consider it fully in privacy.” She turned abruptly, thinking only to escape, and found her brother and Miss Bennet behind her, the dance having ended while Mr Darcy had been speaking. She looked first at Elizabeth, but could not tell in her countenance whether her nemesis displayed any sign of having overheard Mr Darcy’s admonition. A glance at her brother, though, revealed his customary benign smile. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the small part which still functioned, Caroline reflected that had the couple overheard any of her conversation with Mr Darcy, Charles would have expressed some consternation. She took some little comfort in the thought that at least her mortification had not been directly witnessed, though from the way Elizabeth glanced quickly between Caroline and Mr Darcy, that lady had some sense of having trespassed on a private moment of discourse.

  She made a quick curtsy to the group, trying to smile as she did so, though it exhibited as a grimace; then skirted around them and threaded her way quickly through the crowd. She did not turn around to see the response her hasty departure elicited; she did not stop until gaining the unoccupied back of the room behind the benches, where a set of double doors led to a summer terrace. Though early November temperatures did not support sustained use of the veranda, Caroline nonetheless tried the doors, grateful to find them unbolted, and let herself out into the air and seclusion the location afforded her.

  Chapter Ten:

  Night Watch

  C

  aroline let the dark envelop her on the terrace. She moved away instinctively from the soft light escaping the assembly room through the glass in its doors so that the pale colour of her gown could not be distinguished by anyone in the adjacent rooms. She wished to be anywhere but in this horrid place at this moment, and could not reconcile how to endure the remainder of the evening before she could escape to the solitude of her rooms at Netherfield.

  She stopped short in her pacing as the awful thought intruded that even on leaving the public gathering, her dejection must continue in an interminable carriage ride with her family… and with Mr Darcy. To even think on it gave a turning in her stomach and brought a sour taste to the base of her throat. It was impossible! She would expire from the mortification. She recalled how well the evening had begun for her – her private moments with Mr Darcy in the drawing room, followed by her stolen moments of studying him casually in their carriage – and lashed herself acidulously for believing her fortunes were changing. She had been in this heinous country near on a week and had found nothing but obstructions from the moment of her arrival. Why had she dropped her guard and allowed herself to believe that this evening brought a reversal of circumstance?

  Mr Darcy had been cruel in his outright rejection. She failed in trying to credit the scene, his complete lack of gentlemanly conduct: he could not have been more pointed had Caroline demeaned herself by directly petitioning a match between them. And to put her off in so open and public a manner was unconscionable! She was not defeated, but destroyed.

  How would she face him ever again? How would she face her brother, when his wife and closest friends would be a constant reminder of her abject humiliation? The contemplation of her debasement induced a chill in her organs to rival the autumn night air. A stray notion wrought a despairing laugh from her lips that the clergy were wrong to preach of fire and brimstone; hell’s defining quality was not heat but rather the burning cold of nothingness.

  As if to further illumine her shame, the night’s cloud cover was shifting, revealing a near full moon that brightened the terrace. Still desiring anonymous solitude, Caroline moved to a far corner of the veranda where it skirted for a few yards around the wall of the building. She gained the small alcove, free from any curious eyes that might look out at the night, and le
aned back against the stones of the building to wallow in her misery.

  After some little time, Caroline drew her wrap tightly around her as she came aware of the cold stones against her back. She should return inside, but where could she possibly go to escape the scrutiny of people who would surely be able to see her acute embarrassment writ upon her face? The dance hall and tearoom were too close with people, and the card room bound to be largely men or matrons; she would stand out in such a place, and standing out now was the last thing Caroline desired. Had she the power to simply melt away at this moment and waken to find herself in her bed at Netherfield, she would not hesitate to act.

  Perhaps, if she was circumspect and chance for once embraced her, she could make her way quietly around the edges of the hall to the main entry, claim her cloak – the cold truly was beginning to seep through to her bones now – and send a footman to find Louisa. She would claim an indisposition to leave early, perfectly feasible given her soaking a few days before; the carriage man could return later to the assembly for the remaining party.

  Having decided this course to be feasible – the possibility of being addressed as she moved through the room a risk but still in all, her best option – Caroline was all but stirring into action when the recognition of steps on the flagstones alerted her to someone approaching her secluded alcove. She checked herself, fervently hoping the person took a moment of air only and would soon depart, and whispered a silent thanks to the night when the steps stopped some yards away from her location. Then she heard voices, realizing there was more than one person on the veranda; and but a moment more she flattened herself against the wall in a state as, in horror, she recognized the voices of the individuals standing so near to her.