by Leenie Brown
“I assure you, Miss Bingley, there is nothing untoward in my suggestion, and I have your brother’s approbation to speak to you in private.”
“You have what?” Caroline’s heart leapt to her throat. Had Hurst not given Mr. Rhett his acceptance? Why was Mr. Stark now speaking as if he had it? She looked around, desperately hoping to see Mr. Rhett somewhere in the garden or exiting the house.
“He is not here,” Mr. Stark said.
“Who is not here?” Caroline asked.
“Mr. Rhett. That is whom you were looking for, is it not?”
The reply stole the air from Caroline’s lungs for a moment. He was gone? But today was the day he was to offer for her.
“He had some business which needed attending,” Mr. Stark explained and then smiled and bowed as Miss Blevins, with parasol twirling, joined him.
“Who is attending to business when there is such a fine garden in which to stroll?” Miss Blevins batted her lashes and gave Caroline a feigned friendly smile.
“Mr. Rhett,” Mr. Stark replied before Caroline could do more than open her mouth. “He was all in a bluster about something this morning. It seemed as if he could not get his carriage ready fast enough for his tastes. But then, he does rather seem the doing sort of fellow. So I imagine it is not a thing to worry about too terribly much. It is likely nothing of grave importance, just a desire to be done doing what needs to be done.”
“Indeed,” said Miss Blevins with a smirk.
“Oh, there is Mr. Thompson,” Mr. Stark waved to the gentleman as he approached the group of ladies. “I had a thing to tell him. You do not mind waiting a moment while I do so, do you, Miss Blevins?”
“No, I shall keep Miss Bingley company until you return.” She waited quietly until Mr. Stark was well away from them. Then, she turned to Miss Bingley. “It appears Mr. Rhett got what he desired, so he left.”
Caroline blinked. “Pardon me? I do not comprehend your meaning.”
Miss Blevins pursed her lips. “I saw him telling you good night at your door last night.”
“He did no such thing!” Caroline cried.
Miss Blevins shrugged. “I can only say what I heard and saw, and I saw him outside your door, wishing you a good night.” She shook her head. “One must learn to be more discreet when carrying out an assignation.”
Caroline could not believe what she was hearing. “I assure you, he only stopped to tell my sister that her husband was finished playing cards. I did not even speak to him.”
Miss Blevins lifted a brow and shrugged as Mr. Stark returned. “That may be your story, but it is not the one everyone else has heard. I do believe you are done both here and in town.” She spun and greeted Mr. Stark, and then with a self-satisfied grin to Caroline, accepted Mr. Stark’s arm and meandered away.
Caroline huffed at the back of Miss Blevins’ departing figure. “She is horrid,” she said as she rose to her feet. “She and her simpering and smirking and batting of her lashes — ghastly, simply ghastly!. How anyone could behave in such a fashion is beyond my comprehension,” Caroline muttered as she made her way to where her sister sat. “Louisa, I must speak with you.”
“She is a demanding sort, is she not?” Caroline heard Mrs. Carlyle say and turned toward her with a glare.
“And your charge is an ill-mannered, story-weaving, ogress!” Caroline flicked her head and marched toward the house with Louisa scampering after her.
She did not stop until she had reached the hall outside the library. She paced back and forth in front of the library door, one hand resting at the base of her throat, and the other firmly placed on her hip.
“Whatever has happened, Caroline.” Louisa paced behind her sister.
“He is gone. Gone.” Caroline shook her head.
“Who is gone?”
“And without a word to me,” Caroline continued not even hearing her sister’s question. “He was supposed to offer for me today. He said he would. He made me believe he intended to marry me.” She turned to her sister. “How could he do that?”
“Ah, Caroline, Louisa, I was just coming to find the two of you.” Hurst stood at the library door. “Come in.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “I have some good news, I think.” He tipped his head and looked at Caroline, who was still pacing in the hall. “Is she well?” he asked his wife.
Louisa shook her head and, taking Caroline by the arm, guided her into the library. “I believe Mr. Rhett has defected.”
“And this has her dismayed?” Hurst schooled his features to look concerned while inwardly he smiled. It was good to see Caroline so affected by a man. He had never thought she would be. Indeed, he had oft wondered if she even possessed a heart.
Louisa nodded. “He was to offer today,” she whispered.
“Yes, well, there is no need to be disheartened. I have a second option for you, Caroline. He is not as well off financially, but his estate has been in his family for several generations and when his uncle dies, which is expected to happen in the next year or so — his uncle is not a healthy or young man, you see — this gentleman will come into a great deal of money and land. And we both know that is something for which you have always wished.”
Caroline stopped pacing and looked at Hurst with her mouth hanging open. He could not be speaking of Mr. Stark. She shook her head. No matter the size of that man’s estate or the number of pounds in his bank account, she would not accept him.
“He is no Mr. Darcy to be sure,” Hurst continued, “but he is not repulsive. Many of the other ladies seem to have set their caps at him. Miss Blevins has certainly made a point of following him about.” Hurst chuckled at the look of horror on Caroline’s face. Apparently, she had figured out of whom he was speaking.
“I know how you would enjoy besting that pretentious miss. You would be the envy of many once he comes into his full inheritance. Pin money, carriages, gowns, balls — you will have it all and be a gentleman’s wife, which brings with it that status you have always craved. He is not opposed to a tradesman’s daughter, so I expect he will treat you well.”
Caroline shook her head. “No. No.”
“You do not wish to be a gentleman’s wife?”
Caroline slumped into a chair. “I do not want him. You will have to send me to my aunt.” Tears hung perilously close to falling.
Hurst sat down across from her. “You would choose to live in Manchester instead of marrying Mr. Stark?”
Caroline’s lip quivered as she nodded her head. “I cannot marry him.”
“Why?” Hurst prodded gently.
“I do not care for him. He does not close his mouth when he chews, and he likes to talk of nothing but himself and the latest gossip. He is quite distasteful.” And he was not Mr. Rhett. There was no one, her heart cried, who could stand in the place of Mr. Rhett. “I would rather not marry.”
Hurst’s brows rose. “Stark will be disappointed. I had given him permission to seek you out.”
She nodded. “I know. He mentioned it when I saw him in the garden.”
Hurst leaned back and studied his sister. There was a decided change in her. He had not thought Rhett capable of affecting a change in Caroline, and he certainly had not expected it to happen so quickly. “Very well, I shall speak to Stark.”
“Thank you.” Caroline rose to leave. “I do not feel well. I shall retire to my room for the remainder of the day.” She paused. “Do you know why Mr. Rhett left?”
“I could not say,” Hurst replied, although he had a very good idea as to why Rhett was gone. “Men are fickle.”
Caroline nodded. “Would you be terribly distressed if I asked to leave tomorrow?”
“You wish to leave?” Louisa said in shock.
“I have no prospects here, and the things they are saying about me are absolutely horrid.”
“What are they saying?” Hurst prodded.
“Someone saw Mr. Rhett saying goodnight to Louisa at my door last night and assumed he had been in my room visi
ting me.” Her cheeks flushed a brilliant red and tears once again threatened. She swallowed. “They said he got what he wanted and that is why he left.”
Hurst turned to his wife. “See that all is made ready. We will leave in the morning.”
Chapter 6
Caroline looked back at Burton Hall as Hurst’s carriage turned from the drive onto the main road. It was a grand estate. The windows marched in two smart lines across its facade, and hedges stood in fine array protecting the garden at its side. Through the gate and down the path, she knew there were a fountain and circular walk with benches around it, flanked by carefully tended flowers.
She rested her head against the side of the window. To look at it, Burton Hall was perfect — everything she would have dreamt of managing as an estate’s mistress. The gardens would flourish. The house would be filled on a regular basis with friends and family. Chatter would surround the dining table and waft down the halls from the drawing room. And she had thought that those things were the only things that were needed to have a fulfilling life, but now, remembering how empty that great house with all its guests had felt, her heart ached, and she knew there was something more that was necessary to her happiness.
She wished for someone with whom to share it. Not an acquaintance or a guardian — someone who was more, someone who understood her and talked to her and accepted her faults while assuring her they could be improved. She longed for someone like Mr. Rhett.
She sighed again. No, not someone like him — him. He was, she realized, quite likely the one man in the whole of the British Empire who in disposition was best suited to her. She peeked back once again. The house could just be glimpsed before they descended a small rise.
“Do you suppose,” she began, looking at Louisa, “that Charles felt this awful constricting in his chest when he was persuaded not to return to Netherfield?”
“I have not considered it,” replied Louisa.
“He intended to marry Miss Bennet. We both knew he did.”
Louisa nodded. “But you were certain it was not a good match, and I could not see an error in your argument. Miss Bennet was lovely, but she was no more lovely to him than to the footmen.”
Caroline shrugged. “I suppose it did not matter how Miss Bennet acted. We should have considered Charles’s heart.”
Louisa looked perplexed. “We did, did we not? You said he would be grievously injured by her refusal.”
“If she had refused.” Caroline smiled sheepishly and sneaked a peek at Hurst, whose lips were pursed in an attempt not to smirk. “I knew she preferred him.”
Hurst chuckled softly as his wife gasped. Louisa truly was too easily led at times.
“I had thought that very thing, and yet, you denied it so vigorously that I thought I must be mistaken.” Caroline’s older sister’s brows furrowed. “Although, I do not know why I figured I was wrong. I have never been wrong about such a thing in my life until then.” She sat forward and held up a finger. “And apparently, I was not incorrect then either, so it remains that I have never been mistaken.” She leaned back, satisfied with herself.
“Do you not wish to know why Caroline persuaded you that you were wrong?” her husband asked.
“Oh, I do not need to inquire,” Louisa replied. “Caroline wished to marry Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy would not return to Netherfield if Charles did not.”
Hurst raised a brow and watched his wife’s pretty lips purse and her brows furrow again until understanding dawned, and her mouth popped open and then closed while a blush crept up her cheeks as she realized her foolishness in not being able to reason that out before now.
“It is likely how Darcy felt leaving Netherfield as well, though I think he was deceiving himself more than Charles as to the reason necessary for his departure,” added Hurst.
Caroline shrugged and turned her eyes again to the road for a few moments. Suddenly, she sat forward and looked first one direction up the road they travelled and then down. “This is not the north road,” she said, looking at Hurst.
“No, it is not,” he replied from behind his paper. “You will come home to Maplewood with us.”
“But my aunt –”
“Is a cantankerous old biddy who will undo in five minutes the improvements Rhett has wrought in you,” muttered Hurst. “And frankly, I have no desire to visit her.”
The old woman, who was not actually all that old in age but only so in attitude, was constantly questioning Hurst on his family and holdings. She wished to know the state of his accounts and how he spent his money as well as why he had not been successful in getting his wife with child. In her last letter to Louisa, she had gone so far as to recommend a physician in town, known to her own physician, who might be of some help in sorting out the issue.
Added to these charges, Hurst knew that Bingley held their aunt as the source of Caroline’s miseducation, and Hurst had seen such a glimmer of hope of improvement over the last three days that he dared not chance having Caroline relapse into her former trying self.
“Louisa will plan a dinner. Word of your ordeal has likely not reached every hamlet just yet.” He turned the page and snapped the paper into a more readable upright position.
“But you said I must choose from the men at the party or go to Manchester.”
“I changed my mind, but if you continue to protest, I will gladly find a coach that is going that direction. However, do not expect me to join you.”
“No, no, I am not protesting,” Caroline hurried to assure him. “I was merely confused.” She slipped into silent contemplation again until Louisa clucked her tongue drawing Caroline’s attention.
“Imagine how Miss Bennet must have felt upon our departure and your letter.” She shook her head and sighed. “And then after, we were so rude in calling on her. She must have been beside herself with sorrow if she truly loved Charles, which she apparently did.”
Caroline felt the sting of her sister’s words. It had been she, not Louisa, who had decided that they would both receive and return Miss Bennet’s call in such a fashion.
It would not do, she had told Louisa, for them to inflate the girl’s hopes regarding their brother. He could do better. He could find a wife that would care for him more. Miss Bennet would soon be a memory since Charles never seemed to fancy one over another for any length of time. And Mr. Darcy would not be subjected to such lowly connections.
Caroline leaned back in her seat. Oh, Louisa was not entirely without fault. She had participated with alacrity in disparaging Hertfordshire and the Bennets with very little prompting from Caroline. However, it still remained that Caroline was the instigator of such deplorable, harmful behaviour. She closed her eyes and allowed her heart to feel her own pain as she contemplated how much she had caused for her brother and Miss Bennet.
Hurst smiled secretly at the forlorn look on Caroline’s face as she rested her head against the side of the carriage. He could tell that she was finally beginning to see her actions in a fresh new light, and his wife, well, the kind-hearted lady he knew she could be, would soon stand forward once again now that Caroline was likely to be acting differently.
~*~*~
For two days of travel and another four at Maplewood, Caroline pondered both her own previous actions and the events from the house party.
“Oh, I have been such a fool,” she said, dropping onto a bench in the garden.
“About what?” a deep voice inquired, causing Caroline to squeal and jump. “My apologies. I have been told I am light on my feet and should rattle the plants when I walk so others know I am coming.” Rhett sat down on the bench next to her.
“Mr. Rhett,” Caroline’s hand, which had flown to her startled heart at the sound of his voice, still lay above that rapidly beating organ, “you are here.”
“Indeed, I am.” He tipped his head and smiled. “I take it you did not expect to see me.”
Caroline blinked. “Why should I have expected to see you? You left without so much as a word of pa
rting.”
He shrugged, his smile becoming somewhat sheepish. “I must apologize for that. I had written a note of explanation to Hurst but in my haste and hurry to be gone, bundled it up with my other papers and took it with me rather than leaving it behind.”
Caroline’s brows rose. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Whether you choose to believe it or not, it is the truth.” He pulled a small folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “It asks Hurst to inform you that I would return and make my offer as intended but that I wished to have an estate before I did so.” He lifted his left shoulder and let it drop. “I wished for you to know I was in earnest about my promise to take an estate.”
Caroline flipped open the folded sheet of paper he had handed her. It said exactly what he said it would. “How do I know you did not write this today before you arrived?”
“You do not.”
Caroline’s brows furrowed. She had expected him to protest and try to reason her into believing he had written the note when he claimed he had. However, he was doing what he had always done since she had met him — unsettling her with his direct, self-assured replies. It was as if nothing disturbed him. She lifted her chin. “I do not know why you came.” She kept her tone curt and watched his face closely for any sign of disquiet. There was none.
“I wish to marry you, and it is preferred in modern society that an application is made to the lady rather than just carting her off to the nearest parson. So I came.” His lips curled into a smirk. “However, if you prefer carting, I will oblige.”
She tried to keep her eyes from showing her surprise at his comments, but she could not. She wanted to tell him that carting her off might be the only way to get her to marry him after he had left her to such gossip, but just before the words flew from her mouth, she thought better of it, since, in all likelihood, he might actually cart her off. “You may apply, but I may not accept.”
He reached over and pulled the ribbon of her bonnet. “It will be easier to kiss you without that on your head,” he explained as he removed the bothersome article.