by Tess Quinn
When Joss was six, his mother surrendered to a racking cough, the payment of her hard life, and she died. Joss lived off the streets for months, stealing food where he could, until one day he tried to steal some coins from a young man at the Southwark market.
The man, surprisingly quick for his large size, had caught Joss by the wrist as he began to move away with the coins. But rather than punish the child, he laughed at his precocious courage. He allowed Joss to keep the few coins he had nicked, and more than that, invited him to dine with him from a nearby pasty seller’s cart. Over their meal, he then offered to give the boy a home after coaxing Joss’ life story from him.
Well, a home of sorts, for at the time the young man himself was living simply in one room above a shop while he studied a new trade with his sponsor. But he gave Joss a pallet on his floor to sleep on, kept him well fed, and provided him the occasional coin in return for small jobs. He accepted Joss as a ward of sorts on condition that Joss stop all thieving. Then, as Joss got older, the man educated him first with books (yes, Joss could read, a singular talent of which he was most proud) and then in the practical application of his own trade. It just so happened that his trade was spying. That was fourteen years prior, and now the twenty-year-old Joss was totally dedicated to Sir John Ravensby. There was nothing he would not do for his “Cap’n” – a name Joss had tried on Sir John in jest one day years ago and which had taken hold to the satisfaction of both men.
All this and more Sara had drawn from Joss. Once he overcame his initial reticence to relate his story, he became quite talkative in fact. Still, he would not divulge anything about Sir John now; his loyalty could not be pierced there. But Sara had heard enough. The story of Joss’ birth and childhood had opened her heart to him, but also to the man who had taken him in. And Sara determined as she sat at Sir John’s kitchen table, that she would do anything to further this good man’s cause with Miss Caroline. A match between her mistress and the “Cap’n” – as she now also thought of him – would be good for the lady, and would have added benefits to Sara as well. This well-appointed kitchen must be attached to a house of some import, and Sara could see herself living in it, serving her lady as mistress of the house, and perhaps sharing her own life with this attractive young man across the table from her. She would have blushed even deeper had she known that the young man in question was harbouring similar thoughts at that moment.
~~~~~~
Sir John released Caroline from their embrace. He would not press her further until she recovered herself again, for Caroline still seemed stunned from their converse. His entreaty to love him had resulted in a kiss of deep-felt desire on both parts; perhaps it was this which had stunned the lady. But Sir John had vowed to do this properly and so he made himself pull away from additional physical intimacy, though it cost him every effort at control. He offered her a chair at the table, which she accepted distractedly. Sir John took the other seat.
“My dear Caro,” he began as he poured wine for both of them. “I have no doubt when we are married we will fight as often as we love. I should have known from the start your temper would match your fiery hair.” He laughed. “But battling or bussing, I trust it will always be with passion.”
Caroline sat, appearing deep in thought and seemingly oblivious to Sir John’s words, though a blush did appear briefly on her cheeks. “When we are…” she repeated numbly. Sir John removed the covers from the silver platters, revealing a meal to delight the senses: a roast of venison seasoned with capers and rosemary; potato pudding and sautéed leeks; beans in the French style; and a confit of pressed quail and fruits. The mingled aromas awoke Caroline’s sensations yet again, and as Sir John served her portions, she ate with relish, feeding a hunger she had not been aware of previously and only casually wondering how he had amassed such a repast in a few short hours. As she ate, however, she found her voice again.
“Sir, you have contrived an admission from me, and I do not deny it longer. But the leap from love to marriage is a wide one. Many a woman has loved without sense and paid the price for it. I am unwilling to count among their numbers. I still know nothing of you…”
Sir John laughed to himself. “Look around you, Caroline. Does this suggest a life of hardship?”
“Ah, but you have said yourself that this is your brother’s home. Would you marry and have me take second place here, to your brother’s wife? I have had enough of sibling superiority and have no wish to move from one such situation to another. I would have a home of my own, to oversee free of the interference of others.”
“And so you shall have, my dear. Even I would shrink from countermanding your discretion in household matters.” Here Sir John laughed with emphasis. “I may be a fool for love of you, but I am not yet full mad!” Caroline looked to counter with some reprimand for his sport of her, so he quickly added, “I can promise you, Caroline, if you make your home with me, its quality will be no less than what you see around you now. You will entertain our friends of the ton to their envy.”
This momentarily silenced Caroline; she finished her repast thinking of a thousand questions to put to Sir John but as yet spoke none. Surprisingly, they found the silence companionable for all the topics so lately debated. When they had eaten their fill, and Sir John had poured a port for himself and Madeira for Caroline, they moved to the club chairs near the fire.
“I must be mad as well,” started Caroline, “to even think on this on such short and secret acquaintance. It will not do. And on so little information,” she added pointedly.
“But do you love me?” asked Sir John.
“There is more to consider than that,” began Caroline, once again trying to introduce reason to what was eminently unreasonable. But Sir John cut her words short.
“Caroline. Do you love me?” When finally Caroline nodded at him with a resigned smile, Sir John rose from his chair, took a step to Caroline’s, and knelt beside it. “Then accept my hand as you have commanded my heart. Marry me.”
Caroline hesitated for some moments, looking into the steadfast gaze of Sir John. His eyes now reflected the firelight, shining golden with an unusual softness that made it difficult to refuse him anything. He repeated, “Marry me.”
Finally, Caroline replied, “Who are you?”
John smiled mischievously and said, “No. First I must have your answer. Will you but agree to marry me and put an end to this suspense for us both?” His smile widened in persuasive intent, his hawk’s eyes rapt and willing her reply. She gazed at him and knew that, though she might live to regret this moment a thousand times, she had only one answer to make.
“Yes. Yes, I will marry you, Lord help us both.” Caroline at once felt relieved to have the decision spoken openly, and smiled with genuine joy at this enigmatic man, accepting as she did so that her life had changed unequivocally.
Sir John’s eyes mirrored Caroline’s joy. Still on his knee before her, he reached into his coat and extracted a small parcel. Removing the wrapping from it, he held up a ring – a beautifully cut sapphire encircled with diamonds. “This belonged to my mother, Caroline. It is all I have remaining of her, and all my sire ever gave her of value. Will you wear it in troth to me?”
Caroline’s hand extended and Sir John slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit her perfectly. Then, squeezing her hand in his own, he leaned forward and kissed Caroline, and each felt unfettered desire behind the kiss, the more for no longer denying their affections. They embraced for some moments. Finally, they separated, flushed and smiling.
Caroline looked at her gentleman, smirked beguilingly, and then in a tone of wonder that would brook no refusal, she said to him,
“Now, Sir… who are you?”
Chapter TwentyTwo:
Netherfield
5 May 1797
C
harles and Jane Bingley sat following breakfast, discussing their plans for the day. It had become their custom in the short months of their marriage to linger so – sometimes to coor
dinate their schedules as today, but just as often to trade cheery stories or simply to hold hands and share endearments. They loved each new morning for the opportunity it afforded to revel in their life together.
Today, the young couple was very happy indeed, for in late afternoon they would welcome a much anticipated arrival of the Darcys. Lizzy and Darcy had been very like hermits since their marriage, sequestering themselves at Pemberley other than for their wedding trip and loath to leave it for any reason. Lizzy’s letters to Jane were regularly filled with images of the delights of her new home and situation – dotted with clever anecdotes and observations of the estate and its various inhabitants; and tenders of her deep contentment of wedded life with her new husband, though even he was not spared being made gentle sport of occasionally in correspondence.
But given their dedication to Pemberley, their missives last week (Lizzy’s to Jane, Darcy’s to Charles) announcing a proposed visit came as a surprise; they were all to meet in town in a few weeks’ time for the season and Georgiana’s introduction to society, but the additional time to pass in more intimate company at Netherfield before moving on to London was a welcome blessing for Jane and Charles. After several long days of giddy anticipation -- all preparations having been completed -- the arrival of their sibling and friend was imminent in a matter of hours.
Jane was doubly happy and more, for she longed to share intimate conversation with Lizzy of a kind they could not quite achieve through letters; but also because she had become quite as fond of her new brother in recent months as was Bingley, and had come to understand fully her husband’s high regard of Fitzwilliam Darcy.
And then, as well, Darcy’s sister Georgiana would accompany them in anticipation of her upcoming formal presentation. Jane had had some opportunity on the occasion of Lizzy’s wedding last Christmas to become acquainted with Miss Darcy, and found her a delightful young lady, so accomplished. Jane had also detected Georgiana’s shyness at the time, and felt an immediate kinship with this fair young girl who had difficulty sharing her thoughts and feelings, and seemed to feel the weight of her status. Jane looked forward very much to learning more of Georgiana in friendship.
Then too, Miss Darcy was close in age with her own sister Catherine; and Jane did hope that the two would formulate a friendship to the benefit of both. For her dear Kitty seemed somewhat aimless these recent days, having lost first her confidante Lydia and then her older sisters to marriage. Mary, who remained the only other of the sisters at Longbourn, could not afford lively Kitty the stimulation she craved.
Bingley’s comment brought Jane out of her reflections. “I am sorry, my dear, what did you say?”
Charles giggled and repeated himself: “I said, you appear lost in your thoughts, sweet Jane. And do you see, you have proved me correct!” Another giggle. “What has your beautiful mind so entranced?”
Jane smiled sweetly. “I am afraid there is only one thought occupying me since several days’ past. I am anxious for the arrival of our family!” After a hesitation, she added, “that is, our Derbyshire family!”
Both laughed at her little joke, following which Charles asked, “And will they be dining with us this evening as well?”
Jane looked at her husband, understanding whom he referenced, and displaying a silent reticence until he directed a coaxing look at her, then she replied. “No. I own that Mama wanted to do so, indeed assumed it, but I managed to talk her out of her plans with a little supportive assistance from Papa. I offered that Pemberley is a long journey and we would have little cause to be certain of my sister’s arrival time; even hinted -- am I horrid to have done so? -- that Darcy and Lizzy might decide to take a leisurely pace and stop an additional night along the way to make it pleasurable for Miss Georgiana. I felt quite shameful for my deception, and am certain that Papa saw through it; yet I would spare my sister and Darcy the full impact of a Bennet inquisition their first night with us. Mama, once accepting of it, then began to go on about it being just as well; and thanked me over and over for hosting our guests, as it would have been quite a strain on her nerves to have had to prepare for Mr Darcy’s ‘fussy’ habits at Longbourn were they to have resided there, and where would they have put up his sister, and all manner of other inconvenience. So you see, we do my parents a service as well as ourselves.”
“His ‘fussy’ habits?” laughed Bingley.
“Yes. You do know Mama has yet to forgive Darcy for his ill showing on first meeting; it may be years before she is willing to give him benefit of any positive qualities other than his fortune, and as such, she is certain that his must be a ‘fussy’ lifestyle when he is not in his own domain.”
As Bingley and Jane both laughed at this consideration – relieved that a full Bennet family assault had been deferred and that they would have their intimate guests to themselves this evening – a footman knocked and entered the breakfast room carrying a silver salver on which lay a paper. “A letter for you, sir.”
Charles took the letter, noting his sister’s hand, and with an inquiring shrug, he opened it as the footman withdrew. After a moment of reading, he looked to his wife and said, “Well, this is curious indeed.” When Jane raised her eyebrows in question, Bingley handed her the letter.
Dear Charles, and of course my dear Jane as well -- I trust you enjoy your tenure at Netherfield. Although I know your plan to return to London in the next weeks for the season, I have some news to impart to you which I would not delay to such time and cannot be shared in correspondence. Therefore, expect my arrival on Friday. I estimate my descent sometime in mid afternoon. Charles, please ask Jane to have additional rooms prepared, as I will be accompanied by the Hursts as well as one other gentleman on some family business. Your affectionate sister, &tc., Caroline. Post Script: Do dress for dinner tonight, you know how I hate your casual laxity in such things. And do stop your wild conjecturing, I know you! I will answer the question of “who” our guest is upon our arrival.
Jane looked up at Charles as she finished reading the note, a mixed look of surprise, wonder and uncertainty. “Whatever could this mean?”
Charles shrugged, yet even as he did so, he exclaimed “Dashed if I know… I wonder who he is." He paused. "Whatever it means, however, we may have a sticky situation on our hands. For today is Friday, and Caroline is due upon the same hour as Darcy and Lizzy. And neither party can know of the other’s arrival. I own that Caroline has appeared to reconcile her disappointments at Darcy marrying our Lizzy, yet I am concerned to have them all residing under one roof, and ours. Whatever shall we do?”
“Make the best of it, I suppose,” replied Jane in a wistful tone. “Though I had hoped it would not come so soon, we must reconcile at some point to the amiability of all our extended family together.” She paused to reflect, then went on. “Well, with this change in plans, I must speak to staff – there is work to be done and quickly. I had planned to visit Mama, and walk into Meryton with Kitty and Mary this morning, but it looks like that must be postponed. I know you promised some discourse today in Meryton yourself with Mr Phillips, will you carry my apologies to Longbourn while you are out?”
Charles assured his wife he would do her bidding gladly, and they both separated to their respective tasks. As Jane went in search of the housekeeper, she thought to herself, this mystery guest with some family business -- I wonder who he is that Caroline is so cryptic in her introduction of him?
~~~~~~
Caroline rode along in the carriage, the minutes stretching into eternity. What had seemed a long enough distance to travel to Netherfield in the past now seemed interminable with the weight of the news Caroline carried but could not yet share. Adding to her tedium was the fact that she was riding with her sister and Aubrey Hurst. Sir John and Joss were travelling alongside on their mounts. John and Caroline had deemed this to be the wisest manner in which to arrive in Hertfordshire, as John had yet to formalize their betrothal with Charles as the nominal head of the family. It was odd enough that Caroli
ne would bring a strange guest – and a man at that – to stay with Charles and Jane, but too much to openly travel in each other’s company. Their news would come out in good time.
But it was all right for John – he was in company for this journey with his employee and friend (though she still had trouble conceiving of that kinship) and did not have to suffer the cool glances from Louisa that followed Caroline’s refusals to answer her sister’s questions. Louisa would keep on and on, asking who the gentleman was and what his purpose was in accompanying them.
For that matter, she kept harping back as well to Caroline’s insistence that the Hursts venture to Netherfield for a matter of some family importance. What could be so important to rouse them on short notice for such a trip, and when Charles was due back in town within only a few weeks? Mr Hurst tired of his wife’s interrogations within minutes of leaving London and now found his respite in sleep. Caroline for once envied the man for his few minutes of tranquillity. The only enjoyment she had gotten from the journey to this point was when her sister, at a way stop, surmised that John Ravensby (for so he had been introduced to the Hursts) must be a solicitor. Caroline allowed her sibling to hold the misconception out of spite. Certainly, John had been humoured to overhear the supposition to judge by his expression.
~~~~~~
For his part, Sir John was enjoying the ride. He was in fine spirits since Caroline had grudgingly accepted her feelings for him, and then agreed to be his wife. He had no illusions about this woman he was to marry. She was headstrong, proud, far too vain and concerned about her place among her friends. She would vex him at every turn. And yet at her core, Caroline was a woman of real passion, and intelligent when not blinded by position and wealth. She had learned a cold aloofness in life, but he knew he could help her shed that with time, she had not always been so; he had seen a marked difference already just in the days since they had experienced a meeting of their minds, or rather of their hearts.
