by Leenie Brown
Caroline cringed slightly at the volume her sister used. It had never before bothered her how Louisa spoke in that particular tone and so loudly when in company, but then recently, many things had begun to bother her, much as they had when she was young.
“You do not have any deficits to overcome,” Louisa continued. “You are well-connected and have a good fortune. There shall be many wishing to call on you.”
“I would imagine that would be overwhelming,” Caroline said with a pointed look for her sister. How did she not understand that? “Not everyone enjoys calls as much as you do, Louisa.”
“Do they not?” Louisa looked up and down the table. “I suppose the gentlemen do not all enjoy them, but I never heard of a lady not delighting in calls.”
“That is likely because a lady is not supposed to admit she does not enjoy them,” Elizabeth inserted.
“Precisely so.”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide at Caroline’s agreement.
“I dreaded them for a time,” Caroline admitted.
“You did? I am certain I do not remember such a thing,” said Louisa.
“It was after that dinner with Miss Smith.”
“Oh! She was dreadful!” Louisa cried.
“She was,” Caroline agreed. “You see, Miss Darcy, although my fortune is not insignificant, I do not have the connections you do, and my fortune does not come from land — a fact Miss Smith enjoyed proclaiming frequently and loudly.”
Caroline placed her fork and knife on her plate, took a sip of her wine, and turned to Elizabeth. There was something she needed to do and had been pondering since arriving home from church this morning. It would cost a pretty penny in pride, but it could not and should not be avoided. “I am afraid I have become Miss Smith. I have not spoken well of you or family. I have criticized them as well as your lack of fortune. For these things, I must apologize. It was wrong.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Caroline saw Louisa’s mouth drop open.
“It has been pointed out to me by a friend that kindness has become somewhat of a weakness for me, and I am trying to improve,” she explained quietly.
“It is a good friend who will help one improve,” Darcy said.
Caroline smiled at him. “A very good friend, and one I should not like to disappoint.” There. She had admitted aloud both her desire to be what Colonel Fitzwilliam kept insisting she was and that doing so was of great importance to her. Extreme importance. It was always best to be the sort of wife your husband wished to have, was it not? And if she could manage it, she would be Mrs. Fitzwilliam. She wanted no other husband — not Darcy, not some gentleman like Darcy with a great estate and goodly fortune, not even a lord would do. Only Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Darcy’s smile in reply was knowing, and Caroline dipped her head slightly. Being forthright about such things was more difficult when the desired outcome was so dear to one’s heart. She had declared her intention to marry Darcy many times — not to him, of course, but to her sister. Yet, not one of those declarations had ever caused her stomach to twist with fear that it might not come to pass, and she had been aware that she might not be successful in capturing Mr. Darcy. However, her heart had never been affected as it was now.
“Your apology is most readily accepted, is it not, Jane?” Elizabeth said.
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“Thank you.” Caroline drew a breath and released it. Then, putting away the awkwardness she felt, she lifted her chin, and, after making a sweeping glance up and down the table to ensure that everyone had finished eating, she said, “If we are all ready, we could begin our tour now.”
“Shall we begin in the dining room?” Bingley asked with a chuckle as he rose. “One moment,” he whispered to Jane before turning to Caroline and drawing her away a little. “I know that what you said to Miss Elizabeth was not easily done, and I am proud of you.” He lowered his voice further. “I suspect your friend would be as well if he were not indisposed.”
Caroline’s cheeks flushed as she mumbled her thanks.
“Let’s begin on the upper levels,” her brother suggested, “and then return to the drawing room at the end. I shall instruct someone that refreshments, as well as the card tables, are to be laid out. Would that be acceptable?”
“It is your home,” Caroline replied. “It shall be done however you wish.”
“It is still your home, too.”
Caroline shook her head. “Not for very long and that is as it should be.” She grasped one of his hands and gave it a squeeze. “However, I will lead this tour.”
He laughed. “And you will likely do it far better than I ever could.”
“Quite likely,” Caroline agreed. Then, returning to their guests, she declared that they would begin with the bedrooms.
~*~*~
The group made their way down the hall, looking into each room for a moment, commenting on the decor, and listening to Louisa give suggestions on how things could be improved.
“I am sorry to say we will not get a look at this room since the colonel is indisposed. However, it looks very much like the others,” Caroline explained, “except the dressing room is to the left here instead of to the right. The furnishings are similar in style to those in the other rooms, but the decor is green with some wheat coloured accents. It is really quite lovely.”
“Indeed, it is,” Louisa chirped.
“Oh!” Caroline said in surprise as the door before her opened, revealing the colonel’s man. Her brows furrowed. “What are you doing?” she asked as her eyes took in his outerwear and came to rest on the bag he carried.
“What the colonel ordered, ma’am,” he replied with a nod as he made to move past her.
“Where are you taking his bag?” She could not keep herself from asking.
“To the stables, ma’am, and then London.”
Caroline’s hand flew to her heart. “I beg your pardon? The colonel is leaving?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Without taking a proper leave?” Her heart was beating rapidly first from the shock of the news, and now, from the anger she felt at his creeping away.
“He left a note, ma’am. I was to give it to your maid.” He placed the bag next to his feet and, digging inside his coat, withdrew a missive. “There you are, ma’am.”
“Did he say why he was leaving?” Georgiana came to stand next to Caroline.
The colonel’s man shook his head. “I did not ask. I just do as he tells me.”
Caroline unfolded the note she had been given and moved away from the rest of the group, although Georgiana followed.
Miss Bingley,
I wish to express my gratitude for the hospitality and friendship you have shown me during my stay. As you know, W will be gone as of tomorrow and will no longer pose a threat to Georgie. Therefore, my services are no longer needed.
Again, thank you for providing such fine accommodations and companionship. You will do well as the mistress of your own estate one day. Would that I had one to offer.
R.F.
Would that I had one to offer? She passed the note to Georgiana. He would not offer for her because he did not have an estate? She shook her head. No. She would not allow it.
“Charles, Louisa, you will have to continue without me,” she said as she made her way toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Louisa called after her.
“To the stables.”
“Whatever for?”
Caroline stopped and turned toward her sister. “To stop the colonel from leaving unless he has a better reason than the sorry one he gave in that note.”
“Oh,” Louisa shrank back a bit at Caroline’s sharp tone. “Take a coat,” she called.
“I haven’t time,” Caroline shouted back. “I may already be too late,” she said to herself.
“The door!” she called as she rushed down the stairs. “Get the door!” She rubbed her arms as the chill of the night air raced into the house and up the stairs
to greet her. It was not a warm night. She dashed into the drawing room and snatched the small blanket Louisa kept there. Then, wrapping it around her shoulders, she ran from the house and down the path to the stables.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam!” she shouted as she drew near to the stables and saw him pacing and looking toward the back of the house.
“Miss Bingley,” he said in surprise, drawing to an abrupt stop at her call.
Caroline ran the last few steps to where he stood. Next to him, a groomsman was readying a horse for travel. “John, if you wish to retain your position, you will cease your work at once,” she snapped at the groomsman. “The colonel is not leaving.”
“I am.”
“No, you are not. At least, not on that horse.”
“I can ready that horse myself, you know.” Richard crossed his arms and glared at her.
Caroline raised a brow at his response and turned to the groomsman once again. “John, do not let the colonel near any of the horses unless I say you may, or, I promise you, your position will be at an end.”
“Yes, miss.”
“You think he can stop me?” Richard said incredulously, looking at the lad.
“No, I do not. However, I do know that your honour will not allow John to be turned away because of your foolishness.”
Richard shrugged and huffed. She was right. He would never willingly be the cause of a man’s losing his position unless the reason was justified. His need to escape, though compelling, was not a justifiable reason.
“Offer,” she demanded.
Richard blinked. “Pardon?”
“Offer yourself to me — just as you are.” She stepped closer to him as he shook his head and lowered his eyes to look at something on the ground. “Your note said you wished you had an estate to offer me, but I do not want an estate.”
His brows furrowed, and he looked up at her. “You do not? But you told your sister that you wanted a gentleman with an estate and a fortune and that you did not want a soldier.”
Oh, her heart sighed. “You heard that?”
“Yes.”
“It is what I thought I wanted, but I was wrong.” She stepped closer to him again. “As I lay in bed last night attempting to convince myself that it was still what I wanted, I came to the realization that that for which I truly longed was you.” She shrugged in response to his questioning, searching look. “I did not fear being poor. We would not be. My fortune is ample, and you are not penniless. I feared being a widow.”
Seeing the tears that glistened in her eyes, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest as she continued speaking.
“But I would rather have you for only a short time and endure the heart-shattering pain of losing you than to have never had you at all. I love you.”
“Oh, Caroline,” he whispered. “You cannot love me half as much as I love you.”
“Then offer for me. Make me your wife.”
He pulled back and looked down at her. “You would take me just as I am, a second son who must earn his keep?”
“Yes. Gladly.”
He bent and brush her lips with his. “Marry me?”
“With pleasure, Colonel.”
He kissed her again. “Call me Richard, for I shall not be a colonel much longer.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
He kissed her once more, then reached inside his coat and handed her the letter from his father. “It seems I have inherited an estate.”
She looked wide-eyed from the letter she held to him and back to the letter. The light from the lanterns was poor, but there was enough of it so that she could make out most of what the letter said. “You were leaving even though you had an estate?”
He shrugged and nodded.
“Why?”
“I did not wish to be accepted just because I had an estate and, I suspect, since my mother’s family was not poor, a reasonable fortune. I knew if I stayed, I would not be able to keep this news from you nor would I be able to stop myself from declaring my love for you, and then, I would never know if you chose me for me or for my estate.”
Caroline shook her head. Were men always so daft? “Did you expect to keep the news from me forever or had you just decided that you did not wish to marry me?”
Richard’s face scrunched up as he thought about that. “I guess I had not thought beyond needing to be away from you.”
Caroline raised a brow.
“Because you tempt me so greatly.”
Caroline’s other brow joined the first.
“I had a significant amount of brandy last night. My brain was not clear when I made my decision. In fact, it is still a bit foggy now.”
A smile tipped the right corner of Caroline’s mouth. “Whether your brain has been clouded by alcohol or not, I will not be releasing you from our understanding when it does clear, Colonel.”
“Richard,” he corrected.
She shook her head as her smile spread. “You will always be my colonel. Now, it is cold, and I would like to go warm myself by the fire.”
“But I have a commission of which to dispense,” he protested.
“There are writing supplies in the library. A letter can be sent just as your father said. Come along, Colonel, and, John, put that horse away.”
“Yes, miss,” the lad replied.
“You are not still thinking of leaving me, are you?” Caroline tipped her head and looked over her shoulder at him when he did not move to follow her.
“Never,” he replied, closing the distance between them. “You, my dear, will never be rid of me.” He pulled her into his embrace.
“That is excellent news,” she replied as he bent to claim her lips.
Chapter 14
“Miss Bingley! Colonel Fitzwilliam!” Mrs. Bennet cried as the two entered the drawing room at Longbourn on Monday. “I hear that congratulations might be in order?” Her brows were lifted halfway to the ruffle on her cap, and one could almost feel the excitement radiating from her as she waited in anticipation of their reply.
“Indeed, they are,” Bingley supplied as he took a seat near Jane.
Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands in delight and led Caroline and Richard to two seats near her. “A colonel is a fine catch,” she said to Caroline. “Why if my Lydia could capture such a man, I would be delighted! And there is no reason that she should not. After all, she is far prettier than Mrs. Forester and twice as lively,” she added in a low whisper with a waggle of her brows.
“Would she mind following the drum or would she prefer to wait at home for her husband to return?” Richard asked.
Mrs. Bennet blinked. “I beg your pardon, but she would not be marrying a man in the regulars.” She shook her head. “I do not mean to offend, Colonel Fitzwilliam, but the militia is preferable to a mother. Colonel Forester has a piece of land that will be his one day, you know.”
“I did not know, though I suspected,” Richard replied. “However, the fact stands that the life of the wife of a military man is not one of ease. There are always dangers. Why just last week there was more talk of unrest in the north, and, according to my father, it will not be long before the government attempts to put severe measures in place for those convicted of frame breaking. I would suspect that men attempting to escape the noose will become more violent and not less, and who do you think will be called upon to help maintain the law. ” He crossed his ankles and folded his arms as he made himself comfortable in his chair. “The regulars who are not deployed elsewhere will no doubt be made useful, but I am equally as certain the militia will not be left standing. They will very much be a part of the effort.”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes grew wide, and her handkerchief fluttered for a moment. Then it stilled, and she turned toward Lydia. “Oliver Lucas,” she said. “Make certain you dance with him at Mr. Bingley’s soiree on Twelfth Night. Twice if you can manage it.”
“Mama!” Lydia cried. “Not Oliver.”
“There is nothing wrong with Mr
. Lucas. He will inherit his father’s land, and you would be located so near to me.”
“Mama,” Lydia whined. “He is nearly thirty.”
“He is not,” Mary replied. “He is a year younger than Charlotte, and six and twenty is not nearly thirty. Besides, it would do you well to have a gentleman of some maturity to curtail your foolishness.”
Lydia gasped and huffed as she turned pleading eyes toward her mother.
“It is not often I say this,” said Mrs. Bennet, “but Mary is right.”
“You cannot mean it!”
“I do,” Lydia’s mother assured her.
“If only Mr. Wickham had not left.” Lydia cast a displeased look at Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“That skirt chaser!” Mrs. Bennet shook her head. “Lady Lucas said that Mrs. Goulding saw him accosting Mrs. Fletcher’s maid not two days ago. Good riddance is what I say to him.” She turned to Caroline. “Shocking it was to hear such a thing! He seemed a proper sort of fellow, so charming and handsome.”
“He does appear to be that,” Caroline agreed.
“But I have heard the same about him myself,” Louisa added and then lowered her voice as she leaned toward Mrs. Bennet. “I should not say it in such company as we are in at present, but I would not be surprised to find, come summer, he has left a child behind.”
Caroline wished to laugh. How had she been so condemning of Mrs. Bennet and her incessant need to gossip when Louisa was just as bad?
“I would not be surprised in the least,” Colonel Fitzwilliam agreed. “It is a pleasant day,” he added, abruptly changing the subject. “Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst and I had a lovely drive before we arrived here. There is a prominence to the west that Miss Bingley said it might be Oakham Mount.”
“Oh, indeed,” Mrs. Bennet assured him. “It is a beautiful place for a walk in fine weather, not that I have been there in years. When we were first married, Mr. Bennet and I would often walk there.” She sighed. “Perhaps I will have more time for such leisurely pursuits this spring since there will be fewer people about for whom to care.”
Caroline smiled at the woman’s wistful tone. For all that the lady seemed oblivious to her daughters and their behaviour, she was not, it seemed, without affection for them.
