My Cousin Caroline: The acclaimed Pride and Prejudice sequel series The Pemberley Chronicles Book 6

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  Caroline's heart sank as she watched him come up the steps.

  There was nothing about Caddick that she could point to which was unpleasant or awkward; indeed, he behaved in a perfectly proper manner when they were introduced, but Caroline took an instant dislike to him. It was no more than an impression, but it was enough.

  He was taller than Robert and somewhat thickset, a powerful-looking man with prominent features and a low hairline, which she found most unattractive. While he was well spoken and clearly not uneducated, he walked with a swagger that Caroline found particularly disagreeable.

  “He has neither the appearance nor the manners of a gentleman,” she said later, complaining to Emily that Robert had clearly made a mistake in appointing him.

  Declaring that he was delighted to meet her, Caddick had remarked that Mr Robert Gardiner had told him of his sisters' work for charity.

  Caroline was struck immediately by the fact that Robert had probably neglected to mention her work for the company, helping her father and running the business in his absence. No doubt Robert would have been disinclined to admit that his sister knew more about the business than he did, she thought. Clearly Mr Caddick knew naught of that, or if he did, he did not set much store by it.

  Caroline complained later to Emily, “I just cannot see him getting on harmoniously with Mr Upton and Mr Kennedy. As for the others, he will probably terrify poor old Mr Adams into an early grave, while Mr Selbourne and Mr Jones will detest him.”

  “Why do you say that, Caroline?” Emily asked, perplexed at her sister's vehemence.

  “Oh I don't know, Emmy, I just feel it in my bones—he is not the right man for the job. He seems too self-important. Besides, I do not believe he will stay; the salary Robert has offered him is not large and he will soon find the office too restrictive for his ego. I am sure of it.”

  Emily pleaded that Robert should be given a chance to succeed. She was aware of her mother's desire to see him satisfactorily settled, now he was a married man. Mrs Gardiner had hoped to see her youngest son redeem his reputation by making a success of this position and go on to enter into a partnership with his father.

  “I know our parents, Mama especially, are very anxious that he should do well in the business. If this Mr Caddick can help him achieve that, it will be good for Robert and for all of us. You do not agree, Caroline?” Emily seemed puzzled.

  Caroline shook her head, “I cannot see Caddick helping Robert to succeed in the business. Mr Caddick is the type of man who is solely concerned with promoting his own interest and will use Robert to achieve his ends. I think Caddick knows more about matters of business than our dear brother; he will probably end up running the place as he sees fit and Robert will not be any the wiser.

  “Sadly, he will probably bully and unsettle the rest of the staff, who have given Papa loyal service, and if we lose them, Papa, Robert, and the business will be in deep trouble.”

  Caroline's pessimism was unusual; usually clear-sighted and willing to look for a brighter prospect, she was the one they relied upon in times of trouble and uncertainty. This time it was quite different and Emily was seriously concerned.

  If her sister was proved right, life for all of them, and especially for their father, was not going to be easy in the ensuing years.

  OTHER MATTERS OF SOME SIGNIFICANCE concerning her younger children so concentrated Caroline's attention over the next few months that she had little time to worry about Robert and Mr Caddick.

  She did, however, find time to draw her father's attention to another discrepancy in the accounts, this time from the office in Manchester.

  The sum was larger than before and Mr Gardiner took the matter sufficiently seriously to instruct Robert to investigate it forthwith.

  “I have asked him to speak in confidence with Mr Kennedy and have the accounts checked without alerting the staff,” he said and Caroline was reasonably satisfied that something would be done. It was almost a year later when she discovered how little had in fact been accomplished by her brother.

  Within her own family, Caroline's life was being complicated by young David's desire to join the cavalry, an ambition which so distressed his mother, she demanded that Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy should both reason with and counsel her son, so he may be dissuaded from this reckless course.

  No member of her family had been in the wars since her grandfather on her mother's side, and everything she had learned of it from her mother and her husband, who had been in the campaign against Bonaparte, served only to turn her against the idea. Having lived through a period of prosperity and peace, Caroline could not conceive of a son of hers being trained to kill and maim, quite apart from his own exposure to danger and death it would undoubtedly involve. The rumblings of another possible war in Europe, heard in the distance, made her even more uneasy.

  Then there was Isabella, who was almost twenty-seven and showed no interest at all in marriage. Caroline was anxious for her.

  Since the departure of Mr Philip Bentley some years ago, there had been one or two perfectly presentable and materially quite eligible young men who had seemed interested, but Isabella had made it plain that she was not. Devoted to her work with Emily at the hospital at Littleford, where she took special care of the children, she seemed serenely happy and fulfilled, and urged her mother not to concern herself about her lack of a husband. Matrimony, she declared, was furthest from her thoughts.

  That was before the arrival of Doctor Henry Forrester as assistant to Dr Gardiner. A serious young man with a single-minded dedication to his profession, most young women would probably have found Henry Forrester rather dull and unprepossessing. While he looked pleasant enough, being tall with strong, clean-cut features, he had the type of disposition that was far more likely to be appreciated after many months of social intercourse, rather than on a casual acquaintance. Unlike most other young men, he didn't dance or play an instrument and spent most of his leisure reading and taking long walks in the woods around Pemberley.

  Both Emily and Richard had nothing but praise for him, and Isabella, who took so much satisfaction from her own work at the hospital, found in him a sympathetic and appreciative colleague with whom it had become a pleasure to work.

  “Miss Fitzwilliam, forgive me if I seem condescending, I certainly do not mean to be, but I have been astonished to discover that you have no formal training in nursing. I have to admit that I have never met anyone who was so good at nursing the sick, particularly the children, as you are,” he had said after he had been only a few weeks at the hospital, observing her work.

  Isabella had thanked him, pointing out that she had learned a great deal from her aunt Emily. Pleased to be praised, but paying not too much attention to his words, she had not taken a great deal of notice of Henry Forrester until Cassandra Gardiner's youngest daughter Laura Ann had been taken ill. With her husband away, Cassy had been desperate, depending entirely upon the skill and care of Doctor Forrester and the devoted nursing of Emily and Isabella.

  During those frightening days and nights, when Laura Ann's life had hung in the balance, Isabella, who had hardly ever left the child's bedside, discovered in Henry Forrester compassion and dedication similar to her own and, in the months that followed, came to believe that he was the one man she could possibly marry. His affections were plainly engaged sooner even than hers, and the couple decided to seek her parents' blessing.

  Though delighted with the news, Caroline could not shake off the memory of her daughter's warm friendship with Mr Bentley and worried, lest in marrying Henry Forrester, she was taking second best.

  Unable to put the question directly to Isabella, it was to Emily she turned for advice.

  “Do you think Bella is really in love with Dr Forrester?” she asked, and Emily smiled, and said, what was for Emily, a very unusual thing.

  “My dear Caroline, I know you are the most romantic of creatures, but even you must admit that there are some marriages which are built not upon pas
sion but on the assurance of mutual affection and respect. Think of all those you know among our friends and family; do you really believe every one of their marriages was sustained by love alone?”

  “Oh Emily, of course I know that to be true, and more's the pity that for some women there is no other way. Self-interest is more often than not the motive, but, Emily, I should hate to think that my daughter was being married without the deepest love,” she replied.

  Emily reassured her that Isabella was as much in love with Henry Forrester as she was ever likely to be with anyone.

  “I have watched them together at the hospital; he is a fine young man and she has the highest esteem and admiration for him. I am sure he loves her and they share many common ideals; now, that surely is a good foundation for marriage, Caroline. We cannot all be as fortunate as you, my dear sister.”

  Caroline, believing—incorrectly as it turned out—that her sister had been offended by her insistence that marriage should be based only upon deep and abiding love, drew back.

  Not wishing to hurt Emily in any way, she declared that yes, she was probably right and Isabella did care deeply for Doctor Forrester.

  “I had meant to ask Cassy about him, because Richard would know him well, but if what you have observed is true, then maybe such an approach is unnecessary.”

  Yet, Caroline could not resist mentioning Dr Forrester when she met Richard and Cassandra at Pemberley later in the week. She had felt some awkwardness about introducing the subject and was grateful when Mr Darcy asked a question about the hospital, giving her the chance to ask Richard about his assistant.

  Unaware that his sister was seeking information about a prospective son-in-law, Richard was effusive in his praise, of both Henry Forrester's medical skills and his dedication to his patients.

  “I have no doubt that we owe our daughter Laura Ann's life to Henry Forrester. Cassy will not hear a word against him,” he said and his wife agreed with enthusiasm.

  “Indeed, I will not. Henry Forrester is quite the best doctor I know apart from my dear husband and is surely a very good man. His modesty conceals the extent of his goodness and his remarkable skill. We are so very fortunate to have such a man working at Littleford.”

  It seemed to Caroline that praise was all she was ever going to hear about Henry Forrester. When Fitzwilliam revealed that he had received a letter from Doctor Forrester asking for Isabella's hand in marriage, Caroline had not yet been convinced that she liked the idea of the match. Her husband, who knew her every whim and mood, detected a certain coolness in her response to the news and asked, “You do not seem very enthusiastic, my love. Have you some objection to the man?”

  Caroline responded at once, “Oh no, Fitzy, what is there to object to in him? Isabella loves him and so, it seems, does everyone else. I have not heard a single word against him from anyone I know. No doubt he is a man of exemplary character. Emily certainly thinks so and she is better placed to judge him than I am,” she declared.

  But he was not deceived.

  “Certainly, but I see no outbreak of happiness that Isabella is to marry.” He persisted, “You have complained before that she would show no interest in any other young men. I know you have been anxious about her remaining single.”

  “I confess I have and I am pleased she is to marry, but Fitzy, do you not see that she has shown none of the excitement and sparkle one expects from a young woman in love? Compare her demeanour with that of Cassy when she was engaged to Richard, and Isabella does not appear at all excited by the prospect,” she said and he smiled as she continued. “When I recall my own feelings, I cannot make her out, for she is so matter-of-fact about it, I am concerned that she may not be in love at all,” she complained.

  Fitzwilliam laughed then and, putting his arms around her, reminded her that their daughter was twenty-seven and a somewhat more dignified young lady than she, Caroline, had been at sixteen, when they had discovered they were in love. He recalled only too well the exhilaration and happiness they had experienced; it had filled their lives and spilled over into everything they did and infected everyone they met with a strange euphoria.

  The memories were sufficient to make them pause in their consideration of Isabella's feelings and concentrate for a while upon their own. Caroline had never been in love before she had discovered her tender feelings for the colonel; the sheer delight of knowing that she was as deeply cherished by him had completely absorbed her throughout the year that followed, while they waited to be married. She saw herself as the most fortunate of women, and nothing that had happened since her marriage had changed her mind. Theirs was an exceptional love, she believed.

  For Isabella, she had only one wish. That she too should know similar joy. When they had met Mr Bentley, whose affection for Isabella was undeniable, Caroline had hoped they might become engaged. She was certain they were right for each other. Isabella had seemed as though she may well accept him, yet, it had all come to nothing.

  With Doctor Forrester, Caroline could not be sure; she confessed she had her doubts.

  But Isabella was sure and that was all that mattered, Fitzwilliam told her, and Caroline finally agreed that it was. While she remained a romantic at heart, Caroline's judgment had sharpened sufficiently to let her see the worth of a man like Henry Forrester. Clearly, Isabella had seen it too.

  Between the engagement of Isabella and Dr Forrester and their wedding, Caroline was drawn, albeit reluctantly, into the problems surrounding her father's business. It was occasioned by the receipt of a confidential communication from Mr Upton, sent with the intention of acquainting her and Mr Gardiner with the unsatisfactory state of affairs at the Manchester office.

  He wrote:

  Dear Mrs Fitzwilliam,

  I hope you will forgive me for taking the liberty of addressing this to you, but I am wary of giving offence to Mr Robert Gardiner, who may see this letter if I were to direct it to Mr Edward Gardiner's office.

  While I make no specific complaint on my account, I am compelled to bring to your attention, and that of Mr Gardiner, the deterioration of conditions in the office since the appointment of Mr Caddick.

  Hinting that he was less concerned, being close to retirement himself, he wrote at length of the attitude of harshness and distrust that Caddick showed to the rest of his staff. Mr Adams, he said, was preparing to retire and move away to the country to live with his son since he could no longer tolerate the constant aggravation and criticism.

  As for Messrs Selbourne and Jones, they were younger and better able to cope, but the worst news for Caroline was that, according to Mr Upton, Caddick seemed bent on removing Mr Peter Kennedy.

  He wrote:

  I have been looking forward to the day when Mr Kennedy would take over from me and continue the excellent work he has done, but that would all be set at naught were he to be dismissed on a whim by Mr Caddick.

  Caroline rose, folded the letter, and put it in the pocket of her gown. It was clear to her now why Mr Upton had sent it express.

  Hardly pausing to think further, she sent for the small carriage and set out for Pemberley. Colonel Fitzwilliam was in Bakewell on business and Isabella was with Emily at the hospital. Caroline wanted some sound advice and she could think of no one better to turn to than Mr Darcy.

  At Pemberley, she was ushered into the saloon, where she found Mr and Mrs Darcy, the Bingleys, the Tates, and Charlotte Collins all having tea and discussing the imminent threat of war in Europe.

  Caroline had heard Fitzwilliam speak of it, too; there was concern that England might be involved. Palmerston, it seemed, was about to take the country into an alliance with the old enemy, France, and conflict with Russia. Mr Tate claimed to have information right from the heart of the foreign office. War, he said, was inevitable!

  It was alarming talk, but at that moment, war was the least of Caroline's concerns. She needed to speak urgently with Mr Darcy and obtain his advice, before she took Mr Upton's letter to her father. Elizabeth, noti
cing her cousin's discomposure as she sat on the edge of her chair, not entering into any conversation, approached and Caroline begged her help to consult Mr Darcy privately about an urgent matter of business.

  Elizabeth obliged at once and, having placed Caroline in a small sitting room where they could speak undisturbed, sent first a footman with tea and then Mr Darcy, who had been advised by his wife that their visitor was plainly upset about something concerning the business and needed his advice.

  “I have not any idea of the matter, but it is clearly important, for Caroline is very distressed indeed,” she had said.

  When Mr Darcy entered the room, so relieved was Caroline to see him, she did not trust herself to speak. For the first few minutes, she was able only to hand him the letter, penned in perfect copperplate, and urge him to read it. Then she asked how she should break the news to her father. She watched Mr Darcy's solemn expression deepen as he read, his countenance darkening in anger.