Caroline's ComeUppance

by Tess Quinn

  Joss mentioned that Sir John himself had declared he would stand up for him; at which point, Sara realized that she would have to find a woman to perform this office for her. Certainly, she knew that Miss Caroline would not make the same offer her intended had done. Sara determined that she would ask Mrs Bingley’s maid, Maria, when she saw her next.

  Mrs MacDonald asked her, “Hae you no family, lass, to come to your wedding?”

  “I have brothers,” Sara replied, “but none else. My mum died when I was but three, and my father and brothers, who are all much the elder, could not handle the raising of a girl child. My father worked for Mr Bingley that was, Mr Charles’ father, and secured for me to be raised in the household among staff in return for service when I reached an age. It was a good enough life for me, and as I was a good worker, got along well with people and had a talent with needle and thread, I was educated to become a maid. When Miss Bingley, Caroline that is, lost her own maid I was but fifteen, yet I was elevated to that position as a temporary measure. I suppose it is temporary still,” she said with a laugh.

  “What of your other family?” asked Mrs MacDonald.

  “Papa died near two years ago, and my brothers are all grown. Two are in the navy, at sea; the third works as groom on an estate in Cumbria. So I have no one, really, to give me away.” She laughed again. “I suppose they did that years ago.”

  She looked to Joss with a smile brightening her countenance. “But all I need to have attend is sitting right here!” Lest that appear too maudlin, Sara added, “I reckon that is enough to make it legal, is it not?”

  They all laughed together, and Joss pinched himself not for the first time, to make sure his good fortune was not a dream. He sighed, “I wish we did not have to wait for the banns to be posted. I wish we could marry right now, here in Hertfordshire, with Mrs MacDonald for your witness, Sara.”

  Mrs MacDonald smiled broadly. She had only just met young Joss, but he had charmed her and she liked him immensely, as she had done with Sara when the Bingleys first took Netherfield. This young couple reminded her of her own marriage, before her Angus had passed. When Sara sighed that she wished they didn’t have to wait as well, Mrs MacDonald said with some lightness, “Well, now, you could always hand fast!”

  “Hand fast?” asked Sara, not being familiar with this.

  “Aye. Isnae done so much nowadays, but my own mother was hand fasted. It was hard to find priests and such in the remote highlands, so a young couple would ‘hand fast’. They declared themselves married, and they were. Not done lightly, this – it wasnae meant for anything but true lovers. And while they spoke their vows, a family member or person of honour would bind their hands six times with cord, once for each of their vows. But even that could be done without. For the knots in binding people together are not formed by the cord so much as by the vows themselves. By the joining of their hands, the lovers hold in them the making or breaking of their union. They declare themselves to be husband and wife – willing to be bound forever, acknowledging that the other’s heart holds their own even as their fingers grasp their partners’, and always will it be so – and in the declaring, it is so. For only two hearts can declare such a union, preacher cannae make it more real than two souls would do.” Mrs MacDonald grew misty-eyed thinking of the old custom.

  Joss and Sara, who had been holding hands under the table for some time, glanced to one another. A mischievous smile took hold of both, and they turned back to Mrs MacDonald as one with an eager request in their eyes.

  ~~~~~~

  Calm had finally settled in the drawing room. Caroline was still not thoroughly satisfied with the lack of ceremony surrounding her betrothal, but the news was out and she could now afford to give Sir John attentions that had previously, of necessity, been withheld. More importantly for her, Sir John could now direct his attentions to her. Though Louisa had not sufficiently fawned, Caroline could tell that as she and John sat close on the settee talking, Louisa’s eyes kept taking in the handsome man with a new appreciation, to the chagrin of her own husband who had partnered her in cards and grumbled incessantly at the mindless throws Louisa was making. Jane and Charles, rounding out the fourth for cards, were the beneficiaries of Louisa’s distracted play, quickly winning hand after hand until all of them quite gave up on the game.

  After the initial luckless start to her evening, Caroline was now beginning to formulate how to make her announcement publicly to society in town. She had decided to host a dinner party to make their engagement known, but had yet to decide whether to use Charles’ house (hers as well, for the time being) or Sir John’s abode. Now that would certainly have tongues wagging, would it not? She thought against this second location, however, at least until she decided (well, they decided, she supposed) just how and when to announce Sir John’s changed status also.

  It might be suitable for the Hursts to sponsor a dinner as well, but Caroline doubted whether her brother-in-law’s munificence would extend that far; they had not hosted an affair in so long that they were dangerously close to being excluded from others themselves. She was still considering this when Darcy and Elizabeth approached the couple. Darcy and Sir John began to talk cordially, leaving Caroline to face polite discourse with Elizabeth once again.

  “I am happy to hear of your news, Miss Bingley,” offered Elizabeth, in a conciliatory effort. “May I offer you again a wish for joy in the future with Sir John.” Caroline looked for archness in Elizabeth’s remarks but, finding none, decided to rise to the occasion and accept the good wishes humbly. After all, it would not do to look spiteful in front of Darcy and John, and she found her dislike of Elizabeth herself flattening in the face of her own personal happiness.

  “Thank you, I am certain we shall be quite content together.” Truthfully, neither could imagine that description being likely, but wisely chose to ignore it.

  “Miss Bingley, Mr Darcy and I have been discussing our honour, albeit by happy accident, to share in learning of your engagement along with your family. We should like to offer you our best wishes. As you know, we travel to town in the next weeks as escort for Georgiana for the season; would you allow us to host a ball in your honour whilst we are in residence there?”

  Caroline again looked somewhat askance at Elizabeth, to discern if there was some sport being made. She could imagine no circumstance in which Elizabeth could be serious in her offer. However, finding nothing but sincerity in her former adversary’s mien, she quickly reflected that this would answer her needs admirably. To formally present her engagement to Sir John, and do so at the Darcy home (so much nicer than her own leased abode) would have all of London talking. It would demonstrate to all those tired gossips that they had been in error on several counts in their surmises of Caroline having been slighted by Mr Darcy when he married Elizabeth. Though she did wonder at Elizabeth’s motives, she would accept and make the most of it!

  ~~~~~~

  In fact, no real undercurrent existed in Lizzy’s invitation, though there was something of an ulterior motive. She and Darcy had already concluded that they would be obliged to hold some social events this season for Georgiana’s sake; to sponsor an evening on Caroline’s behalf would serve that purpose but would also reduce the focus on Georgiana, help ease her into her social functions in a controlled and familiar environment. They had briefly asked Georgiana’s opinion, and she concurred enthusiastically.

  And though neither Darcy nor Lizzy held any false notions that the two women would become fast friends, for the sake of family affiliations and friendships past and present, Elizabeth would establish a level of cordiality with Caroline, as Jane had already seemed to have done.

  After some additional converse to agree upon the festivities and on the selection of a date when they arrived in town, the ladies turned their attentions to the converse of their respective gentlemen. Lizzy still marvelled to herself at the pairing of Caroline with Sir John, but then she laughed at herself and considered her opinions about her own Darc
y but a year gone.

  ~~~~~~

  “Do you remain some time at Netherfield, Sir John?” Darcy asked, thinking to invite John to ride with him in the morning.

  “No, I return to town tomorrow on some necessary business.” Sir John clearly did not look pleased at the prospect, though whether of leaving his betrothed or at the thought of the business he must address, no one could quite say.

  Caroline, conversely, had brightened considerably. She would have her moment tonight, she determined, and Darcy’s innocuous question had given her the opening she needed.

  “Indeed, we have yet more astonishing news to impart this evening, to tell all at last.” Caroline looked to Sir John for an approval to continue; he nodded with a resigned smile and she positively purred as she gathered her breath to speak. “Though I do despise our short separation, Sir John must, in fact, return to London to receive honours. I have tried to persuade him to accept them publicly, but he will not have it; he insists on the private ceremony alone. Such modesty he possesses.”

  Caroline spoke loudly to draw in all the ears in the room. Georgiana, who had been standing near Jane to watch the card playing while it was ongoing, moved to her brother’s side. The former gamers rose as well, and moved to congregate around the affianced couple. As this was transpiring, Sir John looked decidedly grim. While Caroline waited for everyone to gather around her, she just barely overheard Elizabeth whisper to Mr Darcy in an aside, “Whatever news is imminent, it is not something in which your friend finds the same pleasure that Miss Bingley takes from it, that is certain.”

  ~~~~~~

  Sir John would have complimented Lizzy on her perception. But though he dreaded this announcement, it was only a matter of days before it would be news of the highest order in town and unavoidable for all that. It might have been bandied about long before now, had not Sir John’s connections helped him to delay reportage of his situation. With all the legalities in place and the conferment all but completed, there would be no further delaying.

  As to Caroline’s obvious glee in it, he had to give sway. He well knew who she was and, though he felt some disinclination towards that part of her character, for the sake of what he loved about her he must allow her these moments. Indeed, he could foresee that the severest tests in their marriage would revolve around such things as these – her craving for status and his aversion to it – but as neither seemed likely to change, he would try to use it for the best in their partnership. As such, he resigned himself now to withstand the first reaction to this inevitable news, grateful at the least that it was among a small group and friends. Worse was surely to come upon its wider dissemination.

  His glance around the assembled party culminated at Darcy, who showed neither particular curiosity nor undue concern at what was to come, but rather conveyed a look of sympathy towards his renewed acquaintance. Sir John was heartened by the presumption that at least one among the listeners would recognize his discomfort with his new status.

  ~~~~~~

  As the group gathered around the affianced couple, Caroline beamed. Drawing herself up to full stature – Sir John had to smile indulgently as much at the absurdity of it as at how beautiful Caroline was when stirred by a passion for something – she began to explain.

  As Caroline began to speak, in her mind she was catapulted back to that night scarcely over a week ago when she had confessed her feelings and accepted Sir John’s proposal. What an astonishing night that had been. She had surprised herself at her admission of love for John, at revealing feelings she had in fact been trying to hide even from herself. Once having confessed them, however, she had reconciled to accept the consequences, to marry this man regardless of his position or assets. So when he then began to tell her of his circumstances, she could only marvel at her turn of fortune. She recalled their discourse with perfect clarity:

  ~~~~~~

  “Now, Sir… who are you?” she had asked once she accepted him. And Sir John began to tell yet another extraordinary story..

  “I have told you this is my brother George’s townhouse, for so I still think of it. You may recall as well that I told you my brother had a son. His heir. Like his father before had done, George lavished everything on his boy Gerald, all his attentions, all his hopes… all of himself. He built his estate stronger, acquired some new small holdings, maintained his fortunes or amassed new ones… all to pass on to his only son, who would no doubt repeat the history yet again. When George’s wife died three years ago, neither husband nor son took it poorly, it was as if a minor but necessary irritation had suddenly dissipated. The patterns of their lives continued with no disturbance.

  Gerald had been presented with a new stallion when he reached his majority, a horse that was quite high strung, but which my smug and headstrong nephew determined to subdue. And it seemed he succeeded. But several months ago, tragedy struck. He was out riding when a storm arose. He did not return home and at first the household considered he had found a place to shelter from the rain.

  When the worst of the storm had passed, however, and Gerald still had not returned, his father began to worry. The dinner hour came and passed, and still no sign of this favoured son. George went out to look for him, along with a dozen or so men from the estate. It was morning before he was found. His horse had been detected some half mile from the manor, grazing idly, its saddle still in place but askew. A search of the area finally brought the estate agent to something of a shallow ravine, and here he found Gerald. The young man’s neck had snapped, he had been dead for some hours. Conjecture was that the horse, in some panic over the storm, had thrown Gerald. We can never be certain.

  The steward sent at once for my brother, not daring to move Gerald himself without some authority and witness. When George arrived and took in the situation, he slid down into the ravine, cradled his son and wailed, shouting out to the heavens his anguish. He stayed thus for upwards of an hour, all attempts to dislodge him being spurned and he allowing no one else to enter the immediate area.

  Then, as the steward relates it, of a sudden a curious look stole over my brother’s face – a mixture of shock, numbness, disbelief and pain – and he became rigid. When he did not respond to queries, the steward finally entered the ravine to find that George himself had suffered an apoplectic attack of some kind. He was alive, he breathed, but was as if frozen. He could neither speak nor apparently hear anything even when shouted to him. The steward, upon first finding Gerald’s body, had sent men to get a wagon and this had now arrived. Several of them together managed to carry first George, then Gerald’s body, to the wagon and took them home. A physician was called, who established both Gerald’s death and the opinion that the shock of it had brought on a paralysing fit to the young man’s father.”

  Caroline had listened thus far to his story without comment, gripped by the narrative. She had a sense of this story being familiar in some way, but could not pinpoint the reason. Sir John continued, his countenance grim.

  “George continued to live, though in a state of paralysie. He could not speak, appeared not to hear, could not eat of his own volition, but servants managed somehow to work enough broths and tisanes through his lips to sustain his breathing even as his body withered and life slipped away. I have never held love for my brother, but even so I cannot imagine or wish upon him the horror of such an existence if once his mind was still able to function. No one can know if it did or not. To everyone’s astonishment, he survived nearly two months in this altered condition. He died quietly a month ago.”

  Caroline was quick to see the implications of this history. “And with his son deceased before him, you became his heir by default?”

  Sir John’s grimace confirmed her supposition. “Yes,” he said, “just so.” For a moment he was quiet; then he added, “My patron having heard of my brother’s affliction, I was recalled from France. After a brief visit to George to confirm reports of his condition – of which I am hopeful and certain he was unaware – I established myself
here in this house to await what could only be a matter of time. Knowing the inevitable outcome, Sir Arthur and I have had to modify my contributions to his efforts. I will not return to France, it would be impossible with an elevated visibility to continue my work there; rather I will remain in England to oversee the efforts of others in continuing what we began in Paris.”

  Caroline was astounded. The house, all the holdings of Sir John’s brother, his fortune, were now conferred to Sir John himself. Though she was stunned at the news, her mind began to whirl with all the consequences of this information; and again, a niggling feeling began that a part of this story was familiar to her from gossip among her friends. She asked,

  “Where did your brother live? What was his estate?”

  Sir John smiled ruefully at her, knowing full well that she would make the necessary connections at last to know his identity.

  “His estate – mine now, though never with intention – is Gilthorpe Hall.”

  “Gilthorpe!” Everything came together for Caroline at that instant, recalling stories of a recent death in Yorkshire at an estate just above Sheffield, and her shock was manifest. Speculation had been rife about the heir to that honour, so little was known about its owners who had kept to themselves. “But that makes you…”

  ~~~~~~

  Finally, Caroline perceived on the faces of much of her audience the kind of reaction she had hoped for earlier in the evening: amazement. Charles had exclaimed at her revelation, Jane and Georgiana had gasped, and Louisa now looked positively consumed with envy. Elizabeth appeared amused but impressed and turned her gaze to Mr Darcy, who was obviously unsurprised at this turn. Even Mr Hurst looked in awe, no doubt picturing the kitchen stores of that vast estate. Many pairs of eyes turned from Caroline to Sir John in new appraisal. The gentleman, unlike his lady, had the wherewithal to look somewhat abashed at his new title, as Caroline confirmed what she had just told them.