“Your wish is my command, Miss Bingley,” said Mr Darcy, overhearing her. He was standing outside, leaning on the carriage door, and surveying the scene around him with interest. “It will not be possible to command a private parlour in the inn, I suspect, but I am sure something can be arranged.”
He disappeared into the crowd. Louisa immediately began to vent her spleen, blaming Mr Darcy for everything. “This is entirely his fault,” she declared. “If he had not insisted on taking the Great North Road, we would not have been in this situation. We should never have agreed to be guided by a foreigner. Anyone else would have known about the Nottingham Goose Fair.”
Caroline forbore from pointing out that none of them, including Colonel Fitzwilliam, had known anything about it, although they should have anticipated there would be a fair somewhere along the road, since October was traditionally the month for fairs. Eventually Louisa, having uttered her opinion of Mr Darcy in no uncertain terms, fell into silence. But since she did not receive the satisfaction of anyone to agree with her views, she remained sullen.
Robert Darcy was absent for so long, however, that Louisa bestirred herself to peep carefully out of the window from behind the curtain. “I wonder what has become of Mr Darcy,” she remarked. “No doubt the revelry has proved too tempting for him, and he has joined in, forgetting all about us. It is only to be expected, for I am sure I do not know many gentlemen who could resist a cockfight. Poor Mr Hurst would not have missed a cockfight for the world, for he was very fond of them.” She sat back. “Oh, I am quite out of patience! I wish we had not come.”
Caroline controlled the urge to snap at her sister, for it would only have made their position more uncomfortable.
“This is what comes of relying for our comfort on an upstart,” continued Louisa. “One cannot expect him to do things right.”
“Enough, Louisa,” said Caroline, finally losing all patience. “You are going too far. Mr Darcy is trying his best to help.” She rose and pushed back the curtain. “I prefer to have some light,” she said, firmly. “We cannot cower here in the dark.”
Louisa peered out of the window. “They ought to ban such things,” she said. “They are a great inconvenience to everybody.”
“Well, they are certainly an inconvenience to us,” said Caroline. “But I would think they are very useful for the farmers who have geese to sell.”
Louisa threw her a sceptical glance.
Just then a large wagon with mawkish colours rumbled past them. The bright colours were clearly designed to attract the eye. The flap of the wagon was up, and a woman with enormous girth stood before them, staring out onto the crowded road. Her arms were as large as tree trunks, and her shoulders almost spanned the width of the wagon. Caroline had never been to a fair, but she had heard accounts of it, and she was delighted to realize that the large person before her was what they called a Fat Lady.
The Fat Lady caught her watching and winked. Caroline, not sure how to respond, turned away, but her eye was drawn again to that large form, and she found the Fat Lady smiling broadly, revealing an uneven row of black teeth with several gaps where the teeth were missing.
“Come visit me at the fair,” cried the Fat Lady, waving at Caroline.
“It might be interesting to visit a fair,” said Caroline, wistfully, as the wagon rolled on by.
Louisa snorted. “I have never liked fairs.”
“You have never been to a fair,” said Caroline, remembering her own childhood when she had longed to go to a village fair but had been chastised. Her mother had made it clear that fairs were set up for the enjoyment of coarse minded people who only needed an excuse for revelry and thieving.
“Yes, and I am glad to say it, for they are nothing but excuses for revelry and thieving.”
Caroline examined her sister to see if she was joking, but her lips were pursed and she radiated disapproval.
Caroline could not help being amused. “Do you know, Louisa, Mama used to say exactly that.”
Louisa frowned. “I am not surprised, for anyone with any claim to gentility would say the same.”
Caroline’s reply was interrupted as Mr Darcy emerged from the inn, striding purposefully towards them. Behind him were two footmen, carrying with them trays filled with a variety of cold meats and pies.
“Oh, Mr Darcy!” exclaimed Louisa, as he opened the door. “You are so clever!”
“Nuncheon is served,” he said, bowing.
Caroline’s mouth watered at the sight of food. “I am very thankful, I must say. I had not thought you would return so soon.” she said. “Though I admit I have never eaten in a carriage before. I have taken lemonade, of course, but this will be my first experience with food.”
“But that cannot be,” said Mr Darcy. “Surely you have been to Gunter’s?”
Louisa twittered. “That is not quite the same,” she said, “since Gunter’s only serves ices and confections.”
“We can start a new tradition,” said Mr Darcy.
Mr Darcy himself ate outside, as was also the custom at Gunter’s. Caroline thought of the quiet elegance of Berkeley Square and, comparing it with their present surroundings, smiled. “Well, it is rather strange to be doing this here,” said Caroline. “But I cannot say I dislike the idea.”
Louisa grimaced, licking gravy awkwardly from her chin as it trickled down from a piece of pie. “I cannot say I like it. But I am learning not to expect the conventional from Mr Darcy, so I must be resigned.” She bit into the pie again, however, with every appearance of enjoyment.
The dishes and the trays having been removed, Caroline realized she was growing cramped in the enclosed carriage. She envied Robert Darcy, who had finished eating and drifted away.
“I would like to take a turn around,” she said. “I need some air.”
“Surely not, Caroline! You cannot!” protested Louisa.
Caroline opened the carriage door and stepped out, calling out to Mr Darcy, who came towards her.
“Is it not vastly entertaining?” he said.
“I would not go quite that far, Mr Darcy,” said Caroline, “but I think a short walk would do me good.”
“What do you think, Mrs Hurst? Would you too like a walk? I would be happy to accompany you.”
Louisa replied that nothing would induce her to walk among such an unruly mass of people. And she remarked, in an ominous undertone to Caroline, that she did not think Sir Cecil would approve of her behaviour at all.
Caroline, flushing deeply, threw a quick glance to see Robert Darcy’s reaction to her sister’s remark. But he was moving away and had not heard.
***
The cockfight was the biggest attraction of the day, and it was there that most of the crowd congregated, but an assortment of people heading to the fair were passing through town on their way, which gave Caroline the opportunity to experience some of the excitement of the fair without the great inconvenience of the crowds.
A hawker descended from his cart and opened a gigantic bag, displaying ribbons, laces, frills, and combs. Caroline had no interest in what he had to sell, but his vivacious character, and the way women flocked around him, diverted her, so that she stood watching. When Robert Darcy offered to buy her some ribbons, she did not object, and laughed at the hawker’s clever attempts to sell her more.
Then there was a fortune teller, who had set up a bender tent in the square.
“Shall we have our fortunes told?” said Mr Darcy.
Caroline hesitated. The idea frightened her, and the sight of the fortune teller herself, who came to the entrance and beckoned her, did nothing to allay her fear. The fortune teller was a tall, buxom woman, with enormous blue eyes and long tresses of thick black hair, but there was something about her commanding presence and piercing eyes that made Caroline uncomfortable. However, before she could protest, Robert Darcy had guided her to the tent. Caroline entered, passing through a curtain of strung beads, and sat on a small carpeted stool opposite the woman before
her. The light was dim, and there was a haze of perfumed smoke in the tent, but Caroline could see the fortune teller clearly. The black-haired woman grasped her hand and inspected the palm, tracing the lines with her fingers.
“You must lose yourself to find yourself,” said the gypsy woman, in a matter-of-fact tone. “Only then will you find happiness.”
Caroline waited for more, but the woman rose and pulled aside the bead curtain. The fortune telling was at an end. Completely dissatisfied, Caroline emerged from the tent, thinking that even the smallest coin in payment was wasted.
“So, did she promise you marriage and a dozen children?” asked Mr Darcy, his eyes twinkling.
“No, she did not,” retorted Caroline, wondering why she should care about the fortune teller’s words. “She promised me nothing. Her fortune telling was nothing but a hoax.”
Robert Darcy laughed. “On the contrary! If she had wished to hoax you, she would have promised you the world, and then you would have been well satisfied.”
But Caroline remained discontented, and lost interest in the bustle around them. “We ought to return to my sister,” said Caroline. “She will be worrying.”
***
When they returned to the carriage they discovered that Colonel Fitzwilliam had preceded them.
“Where have you been, Caroline?” said Louisa. “Colonel Fitzwilliam has been waiting for an age. It was ill considered of you to disappear like that.”
“It was entirely my fault,” said Mr Darcy, chivalrously taking the blame. “It was I who induced Miss Bingley to have her fortune told. But we have returned now, safe and sound.”
Louisa sniffed but did not comment further. Colonel Fitzwilliam looked grave. “I hope you have not exposed Miss Bingley to some of the more unpleasant sights to be found at a fairground,” he remarked.
“No indeed,” said Caroline, her voice sharper than she would have wished. “I have spent an agreeable time, and that is all there is to it.”
Her sharp tone did not escape Colonel Fitzwilliam, who must have realized that his remark had not found favour in her eyes. “My apologies, Miss Bingley. I had not meant to suggest anything improper in your behaviour. I admit I view country fairs with disfavour, and I would prefer them be far less frivolous. But enough of that. I have good news. The Loughs are quite delighted to receive us all, and have extended an invitation for us to stay as long as we wish. As it turned out, our arrival is fortunately timed. They are having a house party, and have a dance arranged for tonight, and several other entertainments for the next few days, so we can be sure of enjoying a pleasant stay.”
“Which is just as well,” said Louisa. “Since Colonel Fitzwilliam has informed me that the fair will last around eight days. So we have little choice but to remain.”
“I think the roads will be more passable in three or four days, when everyone is at the fair. We should leave then,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “If we wait until the fair is over, we will encounter the crowds returning home.”
Caroline could not feel comfortable with the idea of imposing on people they did not know, especially when they were holding a house party and had many other guests to entertain. But Colonel Fitzwilliam assured her that they were very kind, and felt no hardship at all in including their party among the house guests, though he warned her she might be obliged to share a room with Mrs Hurst.
“That would be no problem at all,” she hastened to say. “I hope nobody will have to be moved for our sake.”
“Mr Darcy and I, perhaps, will be sent to sleep in the stables,” he said, with a smile. “But that will be no inconvenience to anyone, I am sure.”
“You may sleep in the stables, Fitzwilliam,” replied Mr Darcy. “But I will sleep in the great outdoors, with the stars above me and the ground beneath.”
“Now that is romantic fustian,” said Caroline. “I would think it would be vastly uncomfortable.”
“As a soldier who has seen some campaigning,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “I can assure you it is more than uncomfortable. I would not do it willingly if I had any other choice.”
Mr Darcy sighed. “Very well, Fitzwilliam, I will sleep with you and the horses for company.”
They set out in good spirits, and in no time at all, they came to a halt outside Emelton Hall, the Lough country residence. Louisa, in particular, was excited at the prospect of a dance, though she could not participate because of her mourning. Caroline seemed to be alone in feeling a churning of unease as they descended to meet their hosts. She did not take easily to strangers, for there was always an element of uncertainty in meeting someone new. One never knew quite where one stood.
She could not like the scheme. But she was glad for the shelter, and, with that in mind, she cast aside her misgivings, and prepared herself to make the best of a situation she had not chosen.
Chapter 4
The Loughs gave every appearance of welcoming them. Mr Lough was a tall, slender man in his late twenties. His wife, by contrast, was quite short and inclined towards plumpness. She was very animated and playful, and with small blue twinkling eyes.
“I very much fear we must be de trop,” said Caroline, “especially when you have so many guests to entertain already.”
“Oh, no,” replied Mrs Lough. “The more the merrier. I love nothing more than entertaining, and I am very fortunate in my husband, for he is much inclined to indulge me.”
The clear affection between the couple put her immediately at ease, and as she went upstairs to the small room she was assigned—thankfully not with Louisa—she focused her attention on the dance that evening. Her first problem was simple: how to appear to best advantage when the case she had brought on the carriage did not contain a ball gown. Fortunately, she brought with her a formal evening dress, though it was by no means splendid. With that resolved, she found herself facing a larger problem. They had arrived too late to attend dinner, and she had no idea of the type of people she was to encounter in the ballroom, or if, in fact, she knew any of them.
Thus she was filled with nervous anticipation when she left her room to descend the stairs with as much composure as she could muster.
The moment Caroline stepped into the ballroom, however, her confidence returned. She knew so many faces there, she need not fear any unpleasant surprises. Her status was well established and she did not have to be on her guard.
Louisa had arrived ahead of her, and was engaged in conversation with a married lady distantly related to Mr Hurst. Caroline noted with some amusement that her sister was wearing one of her half-mourning lavender gowns.
She felt particularly at an advantage when she spotted Robert Darcy standing alone in a corner, speaking to nobody. She would introduce him, of course. She was not obliged to do so, but she was prepared to be courteous, since she knew so many people who were present. But she would do so carefully, without suggesting in any way that, simply because he had arrived with them, he was perfectly acceptable in their circle.
With that purpose in mind, she weaved her way through the ballroom to where he stood. He grinned when he saw her.
“I am quite flattered, Miss Bingley. I see you cannot stay away from me. You have crossed the whole ballroom to stand next to me,” he said, arrogantly playful. He was elegantly dressed, his black coat beautifully tailored, and his cravat tied in a graceful though unfamiliar knot.
“Not at all, Mr Darcy,” she replied. “I came in this direction with a specific purpose in mind, which is to introduce you. I am well acquainted with many people in the room, and you will find that they move in the best circles.”
He bowed. “I admit that I was deceived in you, Miss Bingley. I would have thought you would have been quite content to leave me to wilt away in a corner, completely bereft of company.”
Really, he was quite ridiculous. She bestowed a cool smile on him, and, placing her arm delicately on his offered elbow, she steered him in the direction of a large, red-faced gentleman in old-fashioned breeches.
&nbs
p; “Mr Olmstead. May I present—”
“Mr Robert Darcy! We have met. How are you, my boy? Miss Bingley, delighted to see you again.”
“You are acquainted with Mr Darcy?” said Caroline, taken aback, for she could not imagine how they could have met.
“Of course. We have hunted together. Capital shot, you know. I suppose that comes of having a military man for a father, don’t you think?” Slapping Robert Darcy on the shoulder, he opened his snuff box and offered him some snuff.
“No thank you,” said Robert Darcy. “I am not accustomed to taking snuff.”
Mr Olmstead’s nostrils flared as he breathed in the snuff, first into one nostril, then the other. “Your loss, my boy. This is a particularly good mix. First class, I tell you. Especially now that, thanks to the Laurencekirk hinge, I’m able to keep the snuff dry even in the dampest weather. Best way to keep snuff, I can assure you. Had the box sent down to me from Scotland, you know.”
“I am glad to hear it, sir,” said Robert Darcy.
“Is Mrs Olmstead here?” enquired Caroline.
“Yes, yes. She’s here somewhere.” He waved a large hand vaguely round the room. “She’ll be delighted to see you.”
Caroline tugged discreetly at the corner of Robert Darcy’s sleeve. He excused himself politely and moved away.
“Why do I feel so much like a pet poodle that you are showing around?”
She continued to move forward without turning to him. “You are certainly very far from being a pet poodle,” she said, calmly. “Pet poodles are very carefully groomed, Mr Darcy.”
“Do you wish to undertake my grooming, then, Miss Bingley?”
Caroline wished she could hiss, but it was unladylike. On occasions like this, she disliked the rules of etiquette imposed on her.
“Ah, there we are. I can see Mrs Olmstead over there by the window,” she said, instead.
But they never reached Mrs Olmstead. A gentleman she did not know approached them. Robert Darcy introduced him as Mr Forthe.
Other Mr. Darcy Page 5