by Zoë Burton
~~~***~~~
Upon their return to Netherfield two hours later, Meade was shown to his rooms. Bingley spoke to Mrs. Nichols, asking that his sister be called to wait upon him in the drawing room. He was surprised to learn that Miss Moody had departed the estate. He had expected her to try something else with Darcy. It made his unease more pronounced: more than one of his guests was certain that Miss Moody was in collusion somehow with Caroline, and her sudden departure certainly made it seem to be true.
As expected, Caroline’s entrance into the room was confident and unconcerned. Bingley stiffened to see her so. If his suspicions were correct, and she was involved somehow, he would make his displeasure clear. At the rate she is going, it will be an even greater relief to see her married than I had originally thought.
“You called for me, Brother?” Caroline floated to a wingback chair and perched herself on the edge. “I happened to see the Darcys in the hallway.” She tutted. “Poor Mrs. Darcy did not look well at all.”
“Hmm. I wonder why?” Bingley gave his sister a hard glare.
“I would not know. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What did you have to do with Mrs. Darcy’s distress? And don’t act as though you do not know of what I speak.” Bingley’s voice rose as his anger did, rage firing through him. “Darcy comes charging into my study, raging like a bull about your friend, who suddenly arrives unannounced and begins to stalk my friend as though he were a prize buck in the field. Then, she finally corners him in my garden and throws herself at him; literally, as near as I can tell. You cannot expect me to believe that you knew nothing of this, so do not even say it.”
Caroline had never seen her brother so undone. His fair features were bright red, clashing horribly with his reddish-blonde hair. His eyes were narrowed to slits so tiny she did not know how he could see out of them. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and his entire demeanor was stiff and unyielding. Not even when he was twelve and she eight and she had stolen his slate full of carefully written Latin conjugations and then erased it before he could show his tutor had he been this angry. Her eyes grew wider as she observed him. She shivered; she was almost afraid of him. “I do not-.”
“Do not say it, Caroline! You and I both know that you do, indeed, know of what I speak.” Bingley stepped closer to her, his anger pouring off him in waves. “I recently gave you funds; what happened to them? Be honest, or you shall repay them out of your pin money.” When she did not reply immediately, he leaned over her and grabbed the arms of her chair, his red face and enraged expression looming over her. He did not intend to strike her, but he very much intended to frighten her into a confession.
“Almost afraid” at that point became “very much afraid,” and Caroline leaned back in her chair. She could do nothing then but stutter out the entire story. This was the absolute angriest she had ever witnessed her brother get. Not knowing what he was capable of in such a state, she reasoned that honesty was the best policy.
Chapter 7
Once his sister had confessed all, Bingley pushed himself upright again and raged at her for her arrogance and selfishness. Pacing back and forth in front of her, he shouted himself hoarse, not stopping until Caroline was a weeping mess in front of him.
Having reached the end of his anger, he walked over and pulled the bell. When the housekeeper answered the call, he asked her to bring Netherfield’s newest guest into the room.
Caroline was so distraught at this point that she did not notice her betrothed enter, nor did she recognize his voice as he harshly asked Bingley to explain her tears.
“What have you done? Why is she sobbing?”
“I have explained to her, in no uncertain terms, the extent of her treachery and what the consequences would be to her if I had my way. Quite frankly, it is past time that someone did. She should have been moved to tears long ago.” Bingley turned back to his sister and spoke directly to her.
“I am done with you, Caroline. Mr. Meade arrived earlier today. I find your betrothed to be a man of good sense and fortune. Why he is so eager to marry you, I will never understand. He must see something in you that you hide from the rest of us.” Bingley shocked even himself with the bitterness in his tone. “Meade and I have reviewed your settlement. I find it more than fair, and we have signed it. We went this afternoon to the church and purchased a common license. You will wed tomorrow morning.” His surge of feelings past, Bingley felt a sudden exhaustion come over him. “I will leave you to it, Meade. I will not demand that you remove her from my home, but I do expect her to behave better while she is here. I am going to my rooms to rest before dinner.” Without looking back, Bingley walked out the door and up the staircase.
~~~***~~~
Mr. Meade had, immediately after his angry questioning of Bingley, joined Caroline on the settee. Pulling her close with one arm, he reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, pressing it into her hand before wrapping both arms tightly around her. He kissed her hair and rocked her, running one hand up and down her back. They remained in that position for a long time, until Caroline’s tears finally slowed enough that she could hear him.
“I am sorry your brother upset you.”
“I have not seen him that angry since we were children! I did not know he was still capable of it. He is usually so accommodating.” Tears began to pour down Caroline’s cheeks again, though she was no longer sobbing uncontrollably.
Meade was silent for a long moment. “By ‘accommodating,’ do you mean ‘malleable’?”
Caroline buried her head into his chest, murmuring her assent so softly that he was not certain he heard an answer at all.
“He told me, you know, that he has been enjoying his time away from you. He says you stifle him and want to mold him into someone he is not.”
Not wishing to reply, Caroline remained still, face hidden in her betrothed’s coat. When he nudged her, she knew he expected a response. For a reason she could not fathom, she felt shame as she replied, “I expected him to marry an heiress, or at least a prominent lady of society. Not the nearly penniless daughter of a country squire.”
“So you did run his life, or try to.”
She sat up. “He needed direction! He is far too amiable; he would marry beneath him and pull us all back into the sphere our father worked so hard to raise us out of!”
“He is a man, Caroline. If you are referring to Miss Bennet with all this nonsense about penniless daughters and low connections, remember that, in addition to being sister to Mrs. Darcy, Miss Bennet is the daughter of a gentleman and you, despite your pretty manners and excellent education, are not. She is above you.”
Caroline gasped and turned away from him.
Meade sighed. “Do not be angry. It is the truth and you know it. It matters not one whit to me what your background is. I am about to raise your status; the moment the marriage ceremony is complete, you will be the wife of a gentleman and on equal footing with both Mrs. Darcy and Miss Bennet, though I admit my income does not quite match Darcy’s and his wife will still have precedence over you.
“Do you wish to know my thoughts on the matter? I believe that you are ashamed of your background and that is why you press your brother so hard to marry as high as possible. Look at me, Caroline.” Meade used two fingers to gently turn her face toward him; when she refused to look up, he used those same fingers to lift her chin, brushing them along her cheek as he did so. Once her eyes were engaged with his, he continued. “Aaron Bingley was well-thought of. He was known all over Yorkshire for being fair and honest in his dealings. His generosity to those less fortunate, and those who had suffered loss or tragedy, was boundless. His kindness to strangers was the same, and his business acumen was legendary. He lived the principles of Scripture every day of his life. There is absolutely nothing in your history that you should hide. In fact, I should think you would wish to hold your father up as an example of what all gentlemen should be. He may not have moved in the circles of a gen
tleman, but his behavior made him so.”
As she stared into the eyes of her betrothed, Caroline considered his words. She remembered well her father’s stern, unyielding side. He was a hard man in certain situations, such as when she and her siblings misbehaved, or when someone was rude or coarse in the presence of ladies and children. She also remembered how soft and warm his eyes were when they looked at his family. She remembered going with him to give supplies to a family whose house had burned to the ground, and hearing him discuss with her mother the best way to help a family whose father was sick and unable to work. And, she had clear memories of her Papa playing games with her, Louisa, and Charles. Of catching him bending her mother over and kissing her breathless. Of tight hugs and kisses to the top of her head. Caroline sighed, the tears once more overflowing her eyes.
“I miss him so much!”
Meade pulled her close again, rocking her and whispering words of comfort. “I know, darling. What do you think he would say if he were here to witness your behavior?”
Overcome with shame, Caroline cried harder. “He would be so disappointed in me.” She sniffed, pressing the now soaked handkerchief to her eyes as well as she could while encircled in Meade’s arms.
“Caroline, why did you bring Miss Moody here? Why attempt to cause a division in someone else’s marriage? Do you not know how that would hurt me? It makes me feel as though I am not enough for you.”
Sniffing again, Caroline admitted, “I saw Darcy as a possession, I suppose. I wanted to be Mistress of Pemberley, and that is all I could think about when I was in London. I did my best to chase away other women and make him see me. Then, in Yorkshire, with no constant reminders of him, I was able to relax.” Keeping her face turned to Meade’s coat, she continued, “When I read the notice in the papers, jealousy came roaring back. I knew nothing could be done. He was married, and that is forever. I just did not wish for him to be happy apart from me. I did not think about anyone else, I guess. I am used to getting my way and doing whatever it takes to get it. I reacted badly when Darcy was denied me, and despite my efforts not to hurt my brother in the process, I did it anyway. I am sorry.”
Once again, Meade was silent for a long moment, thinking about Caroline’s words, and her brother’s. He thought about the lady he had known in Yorkshire and how witty and charming she was, not to mention beautiful. He laid his cheek on Caroline’s hair and held her tighter as he gathered his thoughts. Finally ordering them as he thought they should be, Meade lifted his head, kissed her hair, and began. “When I met you, I was first struck by your laugh. It was warm and bubbling and sent an arrow straight to my heart. We were at the assembly ball, and I asked your aunt to introduce me to you. Do you remember?” When Caroline nodded, he kissed her hair again.
“Then I called on you, and there were so many other gentlemen there. Your laugh was different that day. Your aunt told me later that you had been told to find a husband and were distressed. I wanted to reassure you that all would be well, but could not on such a brief acquaintance. Every day I came back and asked you questions. Do you remember?”
This time, Caroline added a murmured, “yes,” to her nod.
“You were so gracious, even when I knew you were unhappy. You displayed your accomplishments and discussed every acceptable topic. I found myself falling more and more in love with you. I have told you this before, and I know that you do not yet love me, but I believe it will come.” He peeked down at her half-hidden face. “When I look at you, I see the perfect wife. You are exactly as you were trained to be. More, I see hints of a warm and loving person just under the surface. It is my belief that you hide your true nature. You are more like your father than you wish to allow others to see. This is why I asked you to marry me, and why I am here with you now, instead of giving in to my jealous heart and leaving you to whatever fate your brother might have in mind.”
It was Caroline’s turn to be quiet. She turned Meade’s words over in her mind. No one had ever looked beneath the mask she presented to the public. She had often been praised for her accomplishments and beauty, and sought after for her wit and charm, and the connection to Darcy she enjoyed through Charles. None of those people had ever noticed the deeper portions of her personality. Only Albert Meade had, and she was not sure how he had seen it. Strangely enough for her, she was glad he did. She looked up at him, tilting her head back so he could see her face.
“Thank you, both for seeing more to me than anyone else has, and for caring for me enough to stand by me. I hope that you are correct, and that my feelings for you will grow.”
“Then, we shall proceed with the wedding tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent! Would you like to stay here in Hertfordshire a while longer afterwards? If that is not acceptable, we could go to London or even back to Yorkshire. I am yours to command.”
“I do not know if I can maintain my equanimity in the presence of the Darcys. I will have to apologize to them, and I will, but I think I would rather go to London for a few weeks.”
Meade smiled. “That is what we shall do, then. Come, my dear. Let us get you up to your room to wash your face and change for dinner.
Chapter 8
Later that evening, Meade escorted his betrothed to the dining room. She made her apologies to the entire party. Her subdued demeanor attested to her sincerity, at least in the minds of most.
The next morning, Caroline stood at the front of Meryton’s church and recited her vows to love, honor, and obey Albert Meade so long as they both shall live. Her brother was her only witness; she had no desire for the Darcys to attend her wedding and the speed of the ceremony did not allow for inviting friends to attend. There would be no wedding breakfast, either. Elizabeth and Georgiana had offered, but Caroline declined as graciously as she could manage. All she wanted was to get to London. She had no need for a celebration.
After the couple had signed the register and turned to walk away, Caroline saw Bingley standing there. She had a mix of feelings toward him. Disappointment that he would be so harsh with her, anger that he thought so little of her, and, most of all, shame that she had behaved in a manner that could have hurt him terribly, and that would have disappointed her father. She could barely look Bingley in the eye as he stood before her, reaching for her hand.
“Caroline.” Bingley leaned down and peeked up at her eyes, silently urging her to look at him. He sighed when she did, briefly, but turned her eyes to her hands again. “I am sorry that I lost my temper with you. I could have told you how I felt without the rage.”
Caroline hesitated a minute, then gave a brief nod. “I forgive you.”
“I want you to be happy, Sister. Meade loves you; I am convinced he will treat you well.”
Another nod. “Thank you, Charles.”
Bingley sighed. “You are welcome.” He turned to his newest brother. “Congratulations. I wish you would stay and allow us to celebrate, but I understand why you do not.” He paused, glancing down before looking fiercely at Meade. “Take care of her. I may have wished for this event, but that does not mean I do not love her. If I hear one word of discontent from her mouth, you will deal with me.”
“I will treat her like royalty, Bingley. She will want for nothing.”
“Very good.”
Caroline shifted, her desire to leave clear in her mien. “Please, Husband, may we leave? It is a long journey to town and the days are getting shorter.”
Meade lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Yes, we may.” Bowing to Bingley as he wrapped his wife’s hand around his arm, Meade led Caroline past her brother and out of the church.
Bingley sighed. He was pleased that his sister was happily married and would now be too busy to meddle in his life, but he disliked being in discord with her. As he left the church and entered his carriage, he thought about Jane Bennet and her words to him in the study the day before.
Jane’s anger had been clear, but she never raised her voice. Her sereni
ty had remained intact as she expressed her upset and disappointment, and demanded he take action. Her loyalty to her sister, as he had noted on previous occasions, was heartwarming, as was her defense of said sister.
Thinking back on Caroline’s arrival, Bingley recalled that, despite the provocation his sister had provided, neither Jane nor Elizabeth had behaved improperly. She is the model of gentility, Bingley thought. She is nothing like her mother; I need not fear that. She will make an excellent wife, mother, and mistress of my home. She makes my heart race. I love her, and it is long past time, I think, to propose.
Upon his arrival back at Netherfield, Bingley immediately requested Jane’s location from Mrs. Nichols, then sought his beloved out. Jane was exactly where the housekeeper said she would be—in the stillroom off the kitchen, elbows deep in dried lavender. He cleared his throat, smiling when she jumped before turning with a sweet smile on her face.
“Mr. Bingley! I did not see you there.” Jane shook the flowers off her hands and wiped her fingers on the apron tied around her waist. “I was soaking these flowers for lotion. Lavender is Lizzy’s favorite, and I wished to send her off to Derbyshire with enough to last her a while. I hope you do not mind.”
“Not at all. I want you to consider my house as your house. I want you always to feel welcome here, to do whatever you please in it.” Bingley advanced, eyes on Jane’s blushing face. Stopping just in front of her, he reached for her hands, relieved that she did not resist when he pulled them up to kiss and then press them to his chest.
“Thank you, I shall. I love this house, and I love the people who inhabit it.” Jane’s blush deepened. She was mortified at being so bold, and wondered what had come over her. Given recent events, perhaps it is not so surprising. Mr. Bingley does not seem put off by it.