by Tess Quinn
Although Caroline seemed disconnected in spirit and rationality, Aubrey Hurst had nodded off almost upon entering the carriage and now sat with his head leaning on Louisa’s shoulder, lightly snoring. Louisa decided to try to bring Caroline around by making conversation.
“I will call for a physician when we are arrived.”
“No.” Her sister spoke quietly but in a tone that brooked no argument. “Truly, Louisa, I need only rest. I should not have roused myself so soon after my accident, a judgment error; but I have no need of treatment beyond what my maid can offer.” Louisa noted that Caroline bit her lip in uneasy thought, and then asked in a tremulous whisper, “What of Charles and Mr Darcy?”
Mistaking the question as addressed to her rather than simply a voiced thought – and for concern over the welfare of the two men rather than a selfish anxiety over their reactions to her indisposition – Louisa replied. “Oh, have no care for them; they will make their way back in comfort.” Caroline looked at her sister as if confused by the words.
“Indeed,” said Louisa, “it was most odd.”
“Odd? In what manner?” The question was asked, but with indifference as to the import of the answer, until Louisa’s reply caused Caroline to sit up, reinforced by a snort from Mr Hurst as he shifted his position in sleep.
“Why, I found Charles and Mr Darcy together and relayed to them your weakened condition. Charles expressed concern, but it was Mr Darcy, of all men, who became immediately solicitous. When Charles indicated that we would all, of course, depart for home at once, Mr Darcy stayed our brother. He, Mr Darcy that is, suggested that a close carriage ride may not offer comfort to you, that you might prefer less attention from anyone but your sister. He was quite in tune with your own sensibilities, my dear, and anxious that you be allowed some privacy and some space in the carriage, should you wish to recline, he said.
“When I concurred that it seemed your bent, he bade me to rejoin you, as I had already determined to do; then immediately he made arrangement with the Bennets to accompany them to Longbourn at the end of the evening. It is but a short distance from Meryton for Charles and him to walk, and on gaining it, they will accept the loan of the Bennet carriage to bring them to Netherfield. You need have no concern of their welfare.”
Caroline only stared at Louisa in some numbness at what she was hearing as her sister continued. “But truly the oddest thing was that Mr Darcy cautioned me yet again to allow you privacy. Imagine that! I got the distinct impression he was protecting you somehow, though I fail to see how your malady translates to your needing such delicacy of approach. You are ill, not troubled in spirit, are you not?”
Caroline rallied herself to agree briefly, and repeated that it was odd indeed – even while she smiled ruefully to realize, based on her earlier eavesdropping, why the gentleman was acting in such a solicitous manner. It was recompense for his earlier unwitting yet heartfelt words.
The ride continued in silence, and Caroline was grateful to arrive at Netherfield at last, its lit exterior a welcome to her inner darkness. She descended from the carriage while Louisa still remained to nudge her husband awake, and was halfway up the outer stairs of the house by the time her elder sister had stepped down from the coach. She turned at Louisa’s call to assure her sister that she was in fine fettle, simply suffering exhaustion, and would take to her bed immediately.
~~~~~~
As Caroline climbed the hallway stairs towards her rooms, she thought briefly of Louisa’s remarks, particularly of Mr Darcy’s recent solicitude. At any other time, Caroline might have made of it a symbol of hope in her ambitions. At another time she would have convinced herself of its indication of the gentleman’s regard for her. And she supposed, to some degree, he did regard her, if only on the strength of his friendship with Charles.
But Caroline had heard his words and knew, even as he believed himself to be speaking of her brother, that his own opinions could not be separated from the message. Caroline had witnessed Mr Darcy with Miss Bennet on the terrace; she knew there was no assailing their affections. She knew her own aims inferior in the face of such an union.
As she reached the door of her rooms and turned the handle to gain her asylum, she thought: It is done.
CAROLINE’S COMEUPPANCE
VOLUME TWO:
THE BEST REVENGE
VOLUME TWO: THE BEST REVENGE
Chapter Eleven:
Siege Perilous
10 February 1797
C
aroline glared at her brother, and shook her arm loose from his touch. “Charles, do not be so fussy, please. Of course I am perfectly capable of taking the carriage home on my own. For mercy’s sake, we are in the middle of Grosvenor Square! What do you imagine might befall me without your protection? Figgins is perfectly capable of conveying me back without mishap! Go back to your dancing, I beg you, and leave me to my privacy.”
“Riggins,” Charles sighed.
“What?”
“It is Riggins, Caroline, not Figgins.” Charles Bingley sighed, and capitulated with a slight nod. He knew very well that Caroline’s tedium – and temper -- at the Fortescue ball this evening had little to do with the indisposition she claimed, and almost all to do with the recent marriage of a certain gentleman.
Charles knew, had always known, that his sister harboured hopes of marrying his good friend Fitzwilliam Darcy from the first moment she was presented to him. Perhaps even before so, as Charles had to admit with some regretful guilt that he had spoken often and quite highly of his friend before Caroline had ever seen the gentleman; no doubt painting a picture she had found appealing and which the person in question fulfilled admirably upon introduction.
Charles had also known, however, that Darcy did not return a similar regard and had never offered the least encouragement to Caroline, much less his hand. Charles had accepted his friend’s lack of attraction with equanimity; for he could see such a pairing as contributing to the well being of neither party. But Caroline had failed – or refused – to read the signs of Darcy’s indifference; and as such, when that gentleman had come to love Elizabeth Bennet, the younger Bingley sister could not take it well.
Charles was unaware of all that had transpired in the autumn in Hertfordshire, he had been too much taken up with his own love affair with Elizabeth’s elder sister Jane Bennet, now his wife. But some thing had changed Caroline. She had spent those last few weeks at Netherfield either confined to her room with illness – most unusual for a woman heretofore of strong constitution – or in a high dudgeon and ill prepared to be pleased by any person or event. She had offered Jane a welcome into the family at her marriage to Charles that was somehow both sycophantic and grudging; but immediately returned to town with Louisa and Hurst, insisting her social obligations there dictated her presence. Charles had known, however, that social requirements had already run down – much of the ton preparing to retire to the country for Christmastide – and from Louisa’s letters, he knew that Caroline had shut herself in the house at Grosvenor Square and made herself quite disagreeable.
Following a brief wedding trip, the newly wed Bingleys had travelled to Derbyshire to join Darcy for the Christmas observance and his own marriage to Elizabeth at Pemberley. Charles and Jane had then come to town only last week, taking a house in Hanover Square in early February for the little season. This had been Bingley’s grand idea, acquiesced to by his new bride, for he was eager to use the short social season to introduce Jane to his circle.
Louisa and Aubrey Hurst had accepted an invitation to travel to Norfolk to Hurst’s sister, taking the opportunity to close up their house and have some renovations scheduled in Grosvenor Square in their absence. They would remain in Norfolk through Easter. As such Caroline, who refused any more time in the country, had joined Charles’s household. He was determined to make the arrangement work well, and knew that Jane supported his desire; but concerned himself that his sister would make a continual trial of it.
And then
, Darcy himself had called yesterday for dinner, having made the trip to town on temporary business a few days before. Elizabeth – Mrs Darcy – had remained in Derbyshire, surprisingly; and Darcy was keen to return to her on the morrow. Caroline had composed herself and appeared to enjoy the gentleman’s company during dinner, masking well any residual regrets over what she saw as her failure to wrest Darcy’s affections from Elizabeth. But after the gentleman’s departure, Caroline’s temper immediately resurfaced and she had closeted herself in her rooms all through today. As such, Charles was quite surprised when she determined still to join the party at the Fortescue’s ball this evening.
All this flitted through Charles’ mind as he acquiesced to Caroline’s demand to return home early and unescorted. He knew better than to test her patience when she was like this; he saw her into the carriage and returned to the gaiety of the dance and his own beautiful wife, thoroughly enjoying this first opportunity to show off his good fortune to the men of his acquaintance.
~~~~~~
Caroline had no indisposition (as her brother had surmised) but could no longer tolerate tonight’s event. She knew her hopes with Darcy to be ended; after all, the man had gone through with his marriage to Elizabeth Bennet some seven or eight weeks prior. There was no undoing that, nor would Caroline lower herself further than she had already done to secure his general admiration. She had put on a good face and endured dinner with the man last night, as needs must. But it was torture to sit and listen to the man and Jane talk in laudatory terms of Elizabeth and that lady’s overtaking of the management of his home. Darcy was obviously still besotted with his new wife and could find no weakness in her, but would admire every accomplishment she had achieved as Pemberley’s new mistress. It was enough to give Caroline a megrim by evening’s end.
She might have made excuse for avoiding Hermione Fortescue’s ball tonight. She knew – or should have done – the people who would attend this gathering, and not one of them could hold her interest for more than a few moments. But Caroline’s frustrated anger over last night’s dinner event had perversely fallen upon her new sister-in-law. Quite simply, in attending tonight’s ball, Caroline hoped to rob Jane of some of the attention which must fall on her as the new Mrs Bingley, even as she outwardly made a show of supporting her brother and his marriage. And so she had determined to attend. She had preened in front of her mirror for hours in preparation, until the outward effect was flawless. Unfortunately, Jane with her unstudied air eclipsed Caroline still. The novelty of the beauty was fawned upon by all their acquaintance.
To add to the insult, Caroline half hoped that Mr Darcy might attend the ball as well. Some unfathomable tendency to inflict pain upon herself drove Caroline to the event with the intent of impressing Mr Darcy as a form of penance upon him for the hurt he had caused her; and the truth was that to feel the pain that came with seeing him yet again was at least to feel something. She had not felt anything for what seemed a long time.
Mr Darcy, however, had not obliged either. He chose to spend his evening at home before his return on the morrow to Derbyshire, and he had denied Caroline her supposed satisfaction once again. Moreover, in spite of the gentleman’s absence and coupled with being made to suffer the attentions lavished upon Jane, Caroline had had to endure the appeals to her from her set of friends to satisfy that circle’s curiosity as to the new Mrs Darcy. The start to the evening had been too much to tolerate; she needed to escape it.
She gave the command to ‘Figgins’ to proceed to her brother’s house and settled back for the ride. She had stifled an initial temptation to direct the carriage to Berkeley Square – there could be no socially acceptable excuse for her calling upon Mr Darcy alone at this hour, even if Georgiana might also be in residence.
The carriage made its progress to the end of Carlos Place, then turned right onto Brook Street to travel the half mile to Hanover Square. After some little way, however – just near where Bond Street crossed it at an angle – it stopped abruptly, and Caroline became aware of a general tumult up at the intersection. She leaned out of the carriage window to see what appeared to be a cart of some kind partially overturned in the road, a quantity of hay scattered about in all directions, and a few dozen men in various stages of verbal altercation, apparently arguing where the burden of fault should lie. So intent was the mob in adjudging the issue that no one applied their efforts to right the toppled wagon and clear the roadway.
Caroline sat back abruptly, a look of vexed determination forming on her features. Why was this occurring to her, and so close to her destination? What was a hay wagon even doing here, in fashionable May Fair? She was tired and out of sorts, and wished to claim her rooms before Charles had worn out his dancing partner – she simply could not face happy small talk with her sister-in-law were Caroline still to be in a public room, yet to have retired, when her brother and his wife arrived home. She had half a mind to get out of the carriage and walk the rest of the distance, it must be less than a quarter mile. Then again, her cream silk dancing slippers were not constructed for such exercise.
She leaned out of the window once again, calling up to the driver. “Figgins,” she snarled with impatience, “Can you not do something to move these people along? Is there no possibility to turn the carriage round and take an alternate route? I cannot simply rest here for hours!” There was no reply. Angered, she opened the carriage door, and stepped down. Riggins was slumped on the open driver’s bench, for all the world either asleep or unconscious. Incredulous, Caroline sighed in disgust. “The man must be drunk! This is reprehensible!” As she took a step forward to shake him soundly, she heard a footfall behind her. No sooner had she turned towards the noise, than she felt an arm go around her, pinning her own to her sides, and in a trice a cloth of some sort was draped over her head. This was followed by a hand unceremoniously clamped over her mouth. Thus blinded and silenced, she tried to struggle, but the arm that held her was iron-strong.
“Not the pigeon we awaited, my lady, but you will do nicely, I think, for an added prize.” At this, her assailant whistled shrilly and she heard the approach of another person. “Help me truss this bird, will you Joss? We will hold her in her carriage until our night’s business is completed. From the looks of her finery, I would say we will remand some value from her one way or another.” Caroline felt her hands lifted together and they were bound in rope.
“Now be careful, Joss,” said the disembodied voice, “do not harm or bruise the lady in the binding, we would not want to mar her perfection.” This last was said in a mocking tone that brought her to struggle, but in vain. Once her hands and ankles were bound, and a cloth tied around her mouth, her captor picked her up easily and with a quick step up into her carriage, plunked her onto the seat. From the creak that followed, she realized he sat himself opposite her.
“Now then, my lady, you have no cause for alarum. You stumbled into an intrigue you have no business in, but if you behave, you will be treated fairly and released when all is safe.” Caroline sat rigid, willing herself not to listen to this ruffian. She felt a moment of panic to think that she was only a short distance from Hay Hill, where only last week Cassandra Benton had been accosted and robbed by footpads in broad daylight.
But the manner of this attack, and her captor’s address to her, suggested some purpose here other than robbery. On consideration, she thought, perhaps she should pay attention with the senses that were not yet stilled, and learn what she could of this man and this affair to her benefit.
If he meant to do her harm, there was little she could do in her condition now to defer it; but she might learn something useful. If nothing else, she should be able to recognize that voice again in the future, and visit her revenge – for no one could treat her in this manner and live to enjoy it while she yet lived. And his voice was distinctive. It was deep, yet had a raspiness to it that leant itself to intimidation. His accent was that of a London tradesman, but underneath it there was a cadence and use of language th
at suggested he had some education at some time. Yes, she would remember that voice. She hated the way he said “my lady” in parody of her.
“If I remove your muzzle, do you promise to be a good girl and not cry out?” She sat still, bristling under his insolence. “Well then, if you do not intend to show civility of manner there is no point in my removing it at all.”
Silence. Finally, she leaned forward to renew his attention, and he asked again. “Do you promise to be a good girl?” Though it rankled to cede anything to this vile man, she gave a small nod.
“Very well.” He moved close to her to reach around and begin to untie the gag from her head. “But I warn you, madam, the slightest outcry will find this muzzle back in place with far less gentility than Joss offered you. Do you take my meaning?”
Again, she nodded slightly, a soupçon of fear once more rising in her throat. Her captor’s tone in his last question allowed no mistake as to his threat. He took overlong in undoing the knot behind her head, quite purposefully to Caroline’s mind. He was quite close to her and she could sense the warmth of his body in the chilled carriage and feel his breath upon her cheek through the fabric covering her visage. She thought for one instant of reaching up with her hands and scratching at his face, but realized in her present circumstances it could lead to no good end, so she remained still. Even with the cloth over her head, she could smell whiskey and a faint wisp of perfume – cheap, as though he had just come from some brothel or mean tavern on his way to accosting her.
His fingers as they worked the knot seemed also to stray to Caroline’s neck and, though the action appeared more teasing than threatening, her anxiety increased at his touch. Finally, the gag was removed, and she felt and heard her captor sit back again on his bench seat. “So, my lady, whom have I the pleasure of addressing?”
