by Glenna Mason
She had planned ahead and purchased a blond wig before she left London, just in case a subterfuge was needed. Now she instructed Pauline to adjust one or two of her least favorite day dresses to fit herself. They were going to pose as sisters, traveling in the Peaks.
She would tell Charles in dramatic terms that she had never been so insulted in her life and that she was returning to London. She and Pauline would not, however, leave the vicinity. They would begin their stay at the Lambton Inn, where they would pretend to be interested in viewing the peaks and visiting the grand homes in the area, like Pemberley.
In five days she would send Bingley a short missive saying that she had arrived in London. He was too trusting to check the post mark and too irritated to send a return response.
She would begin immediately reconnoitering the Pemberley grounds on a rental horse. It would take an elaborate charade to pull the scheme off, but Caroline felt up to the challenge.
Even though she had spent several vacations at Pemberley with Charles and Louisa and Gilbert, she had never been to Lambton. No one would recognize her there, but Century Gate staff and Pemberley staff shopped in Lambton. Darcy even came to the town often himself. It could arouse unnecessary suspicious that a lady and her maid appeared simultaneously with Caroline and Pauline leaving Bingley’s estate. Word could spread. Darcy or Bingley might come personally to investigate. Hence Pauline would masquerade as her sister for the convenience of the moment.
Pauline was in on the scheme in a minimal manner. Pauline knew how egregious her mistress had been treated by her brother. Hence when Caroline told her that she was ready for a little travel in the area, and didn’t want her mean, ungrateful brother to know about it, Pauline readily accepted the explanation. Thus they would pretend to be sisters until their return to London.
“You’ll be treated like royalty,” Caroline promised with a smile. “We’ll travel in style in the carriage or arrange for horses and see the countryside in the saddle.”
“But, Miss Bingley, I don’t ride.”
Caroline was already fully cognizant of the fact that Pauline could not sit a horse. That was key to her plan. “You can take the carriage, and I’ll just ride off through the fields for a little exercise and meet you for lunch or tea at a designated spot of interest,” Caroline said.
“Oh, how grand I’ll feel in my own carriage and four.”
“It’ll be the experience of a lifetime for both of us,” Caroline said, her eyes narrowing to slits.
*****
The first day after leaving Century Gate and settling in at the Lambton Inn, Caroline and Pauline did take carriage ride through the countryside, stopping to dine at the foot of the Peaks. Caroline needed Pauline, as well as the footman and coachman, to believe they were on a little mini-vacation before going back to London. The footman and carriage driver did work for her brother, after all.
In fact Caroline could not allow the footman and the driver to stay in Lambton, where they might be recognized or worse still questioned by the locals. They were not in on the subterfuge in any way. They would report her to Charles immediately without any qualms. She arranged for them to stay in a village ten miles away and drive in to pick her and Pauline up on designated days. Otherwise she gave them what she described as their own little respite. They could take the carriage on fishing trips. She even purchased their fishing gear and some informal attire for fording the streams.
Thus most days the men had the day off to go fishing. Pauline, now known as Miss Anne Smith, sister to avid horsewoman, Miss Joanne Smith, went shopping and touring on foot. Caroline spent two or three hours of the day observing Pemberley. The third day her brother arrived and left two hours later with Jane.
A cruel smile crossed Caroline’s face. A line of defense was gone. Georgiana would have gone back to London to school weeks ago. Charles obviously believed her in London or at least on her way, so he had come to pick up his wife. Elizabeth would start her normal life style, walking the estate. One more evening and she could post her letter to Bingley.
*****
The next day an emboldened Caroline tied her horse to an oak on a rise above Pemberley and stealthily made her way down to the house itself. She knew the arrangement of the rooms from her occasional visits of the past. Now she wanted to investigate Elizabeth’s daily routine to discover which rooms Elizabeth frequented most often.
Caroline didn’t elicit that information, but she did suddenly find herself in a precarious situation, when Darcy and Elizabeth exited the rear door of the house a few yards from where she was peering in a Pemberley window. Caroline ducked behind a shrub, just before Darcy glanced her way.
The couple headed toward the stables, arm in arm, happily chatting.
“What will my lesson be today, Fitzwilliam?”
“You’ve conquered brush. I think we’ll try a fence or two.”
“Oh, good. I’m making progress.”
“You certainly are. We’ll host a hunt next summer. You’ll be ready.”
Caroline hoped her horse wouldn’t whinny, when the two rode out of the barn. She even said a small prayer that they would head in the opposite direction from where he now stood pawing the ground.
Luck was with her. Darcy and Elizabeth headed west, with the sun at their back. Caroline rode back to Lambton, the sun blaring in her eyes, trembling the whole way at her narrow escape.
Very out of sorts with her normal persona after that near disaster, Caroline ordered the carriage for ten the next morning. She had the inn pack a picnic lunch. She was going to take the day off from Elizabeth Bennet Darcy watching. She and Pauline were going to truly vacation in the Peaks today. They spent the day walking paths, dining with a view and shopping in charming villages.
At the furthest reaches of the excursion, she mailed her note to Charles. Its concise message said, “Back in London. Caroline.” The missive should take another full day to reach him, perfect timing for a trip from Derbyshire to London and a response to return from London back to Derbyshire. No suspicion should arise.
Anxious that their stay at the Lambton Inn was beginning to elicit gossip, during the day trip to the Peaks, Caroline booked rooms at another village for the next day. Tomorrow they would move. She chose a village from which she could reach Pemberley with only an extra fifteen minute horseback ride.
*****
Thus Caroline spent the following day settling into the new rooms and seeing the vistas, surrounding the village, which housed the Countryside Inn. It had been two days since her near encounter with Darcy at Pemberley—just the right number to calm her nerves and just right the right number to seduce her into wanting to plunge ahead.
She proposed to begin her quest again on the morrow. So at ten the next morning, she sent the carriage and Pauline out to explore, while she leased a horse from the inn and rode the fields to Pemberley. This time staying carefully out of sight on the hill above the mansion, she again saw Darcy take Elizabeth on a riding lesson.
“Will this never end?” she complained. “Will I have to obtain a pistol after all?” She knew that the coachman had a shotgun on top of the carriage. She presumed that the footman carried a pistol. But how to steal them without being caught was a real problem.
Caroline stayed awake half the night considering options. “I’m a very poor shot. I might hit Darcy.” About three in the morning, she finally gave up on the idea of shooting Eliza Bennet. There were too many potential pitfalls.
It just so happened that by now Pauline and Harvey, the coachman, and Sam, the footman, were becoming wary of the continued disappearances of Miss Caroline. The latter two were especially suspicious. They weren’t fond of Mr. Bingley’s sister in the first place.
So when Caroline informed him she wouldn’t need the carriage the next day, Harvey brashly asked, “What’ll Mr. Bingley think if we don’t go home to London soon, like he instructed me to?”
“Told me the same,” Sam said.
“Oh, I told him I was go
ing to take a couple of weeks to get home.”
“Did ya now. He never did mention any such thing to me and me a talkin’ to ‘im right afores we left Century Gate.”
“Me neither. In fact he said for me to git Miss Caroline back to London as fast as you kin.”
“We’ll be leaving for London in a few days.”
“That we will. I don’t want no trouble with Mr. Bingley. In fact I could jest run over to the estate and let him know we’re still hangin’ around the neighborhood. Shall I?”
“Of course not,” Caroline said, quite worried now. Time was running out before she’d be forced to abandon her plot. “We’ll just vacation at the new inn a day or two longer and then start back to London.”
“Two days it is then,” Harvey emphasized.
*****
Caroline was now desperate. She presumed that her blond wig had probably enhanced the men’s suspicions. She no longer wore it in the new village, but the damage was done. She was now afraid she’d have to attack Elizabeth inside Pemberley itself or give up.
“Why does Elizabeth never walk? She’s reputedly a consummate walker,” Caroline wondered.
A thought shot through her mind with the power of Beethoven’s four note motif from the Fifth Symphony. “I’ve been going at the same time every day. Elizabeth probably walks early in the day, before or after breakfast, or after tea in the afternoon.” It was a revelation. Naturally Elizabeth walked in the beautiful gardens of Pemberley. Caroline doubted that she missed a single day.
“Tomorrow I will go early and, if that doesn’t work, the next day I’ll go late. Then I’ll have to agree to go to London. Harvey will be sending Sam to Century Gate with a message for Charles any day now. Two days is all I have. I can stall that long, if I schedule our departure with Harvey for three days from now.”
*****
As luck would have it, Elizabeth did not follow her normal routine the next day. It hardly mattered because Caroline was there early to see firsthand the change of plans.
“Good-bye, darling. I’m going into Lambton for a little shopping,” Elizabeth called over her shoulder, as she exited the back of the house and headed toward the stable yard. “Jeremy will take good care of me.”
A short time later, Elizabeth, dressed in a riding habit, led a pretty roan from the barn up to the mounting block. The stable lad Jeremy arrived with a large pony in harness in front of a cart filled with painting paraphernalia: easel, canvas, oil paints. The entourage began down the path beside Pemberley and toward the peaks in the distance.
Caroline Bingley was ecstatic. This was the first time, since she’d begun her watch, that Elizabeth had ventured out without Darcy. Caroline stayed in the fields and the tree line when possible, but jumped fences and followed on the road at a distance, when essential to avoid detection.
Elizabeth was on a surprise mission—the painting of a cave opening, which would allegedly be found in the side of the peak on the south side of the Pemberley property—Fitzwilliam’s Christmas present, a little reminder of her mother’s recent visit to Pemberley.
The idea had come to her when she was joking with Georgiana about Darcy’s humorous threat and found out from his sister that such a cave did actually exit. Apparently Darcy and Georgiana had spent happy hours exploring it in their youth. The perfect surprise gift for a man who had everything.
Last night Elizabeth had conferred with Mrs. Reynolds about her idea. Mrs. Reynolds had drawn a map of the precise location. Then Elizabeth had contacted the estate manager, Mr. Drew, who assigned her Jeremy as guide and protector, all one hundred and ten pounds of him, and arranged for the pony cart. Mrs. Reynolds sent a footman to the stable with the painting accoutrements.
It was all quite hush-hush in the Darcy household—a surprise needed to be. So Elizabeth sneaked upstairs after breakfast with Darcy and donned her riding attire. Then she slipped out down the servants’ back hall, shouting at her exit about her trip to Lambton, in case he heard her leaving. Outside she and Jeremy were as quiet as possible. Inside Allen was keeping Darcy occupied with his shave.
They had all achieved their plan of surprise, especially Caroline Bingley. Not suspecting they were being shadowed, the whole enterprise seemed an adventure to Elizabeth and Jeremy, as they neared the X on the map.
“There it is, Mistress,” Jeremy said, proudly pointing.
“And look! A waterfall. If I’ve time, I’ll sketch that too.”
“Excellent, Mrs. Darcy,” Jeremy agreed, when he pulled to a stop at the top of a broad hill, which gave a spectacular view of a cave half way down the side of the peak across the deep valley. A roaring waterfall filled the air with mist and charm a few dozen feet away.
“Unhitch Daffodil, Jeremy. I’ll be awhile. Let the horses graze,” Elizabeth directed, as she handed him the grey’s reins and grabbed a picnic basket, that had been tucked into the cart by Cook.
“They’ll like a drink o’ that water too.”
“Certainly. Please help me first and then all three of you can enjoy the atmosphere at your leisure.” They started the unloading. “You may enjoy tripping along under the waterfall, Jeremy, or does a nap sound more appealing?” Elizabeth asked, as Jeremy set up the easel and the canvas. Then laying a second canvas aside, Jeremy unlatched the harness and led the two horses toward the waterfall.
Caroline watched the scene from a field away. The cacophony of the waterfall was a distinct advantage. It was astounding in its deafening magnificence.
Elizabeth moved the easel close to cliff’s edge and got her paints and pallet ready to catch the morning’s light. Caroline saw Elizabeth swish a glob of dark brown across the bottom half of the canvas. Elizabeth stopped to meditate. She mixed in white in spots to soften the bleakness.
Caroline tied her horse to the fence rail and climbed the fence. She couldn’t risk the clatter of a horse’s hoofs bearing down on Elizabeth. She made her way through the tall, waving grass, stealthily approaching her target. At the same time, she kept Jeremy in the corner of her eye. His back was to them, as he concentrated on the horses lapping up water at the falls.
Caroline was almost to Elizabeth. Caroline could see her picture fully now. Elizabeth was intent on shading a red into the hillside, catching the colors of the sun’s now brightening rays.
“Perfect time of day,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Yes, perfect!” Caroline screeched.
“Elizabeth!” a yell rang out from across the field.
“Caroline!” another screamed.
Elizabeth turned just as Caroline gave her a hard push. The paint brush and pallet flew up involuntarily with Elizabeth’s hands, sweeping inadvertently across Caroline’s eyes and mouth. Caroline sputtered and raised her hands to protect her face, now dripping oil paint.
But Elizabeth had been knocked off balance. She teetered for a moment and then rolled backward off the side of the sheer drop, tumbling down its jagged side.
Charles Bingley jumped from his horse and tackled his sister to the ground. Darcy, frantic, raced to the side of the overhang. There was his wife twenty feet down, saved from a longer, deeper plunge by a jutting ledge. “Jeremy, the horses and the harness,” he shouted.
Jeremy, already barreling in their direction, grabbed the harness. The roan and the pony were trailing behind him, pulled forward by their reins and lead, respectively.
“Jeremy, on my saddle, the rope. Affix it to the cart. Use the sailor’s knot. Then drop it over the side. I’m going down. Harness both horses to the cart and, when I give the signal, pull Mrs. Darcy up.”
Darcy dropped over the side. He’d grown up at the foot of the Peaks. Mountain climbing was child’s play to him. In fact he’d learned it as a child at play. The rope dropped down beside him, as he carefully worked his way down the rough, uneven cliff edge. “Good,” Darcy called up to Jeremy, wrapping the rope around his arm, just in case.
“Elizabeth, don’t move,” he shouted, when he saw her begin to awaken. Her eyes sp
rang open at his voice. A scream filled the air, as she noticed the expanse below her and nothing except air in between.
“Be still, my love. I’m almost there. Just do NOT move.”
Darcy stepped lightly on the small protruding shelf. He immediately tied the rope around Elizabeth’s waist. He looked up. Jeremy waved the okay. “Thank you, Father,” Darcy said, gazing at the heavens.
“Now, Elizabeth, do not panic. Jeremy and the horses are going to pull you up.”
“No, Fitzwilliam. What if the knot gives way. I’ll fall to my death. Can’t I stay here with you?”
“Forever, my love?” Darcy queried, dimples flashing. “That’s an interesting idea for our future.”
“Oh, of course,” she said with a smile, “you’d be stuck here with me.”
“That is the only way I’d ever accept such a fate, my love,” he said, kissing the top of her head.
“Now, no worries. The knot is secure. Just use your arms and legs to climb; the rope and the horses will pull you up. You will need to do your part to prevent being battered against the wall. Just hold the rope with your hands and propel yourself away from the wall with your legs and feet.”
Darcy waved to Jeremy. The creak of the wagon was heard, the stretch of the horses’ legs imagined. Elizabeth started up, scared, but grateful to be alive. A short time later Jeremy assisted Elizabeth over the rim. He led her away from the cliff’s verge and untied the rope from her waist. He flung it back over the side. Carefully he moved the cart and horses just the right distance for Darcy to secure himself.
“You don’t have to pull me up, Jeremy,” Darcy shouted, when the boy leaned over to be sure the rope was long enough. “I can scale the side myself. The rope is just in case, but keep it taut. Move the horses back as I move up.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy, we’re ready when you are,” Jeremy yelled back, very impressed that anyone could climb that precarious surface.
Meanwhile Charles Bingley had his sister lashed to a nearby tree. “It’s Bedlam for you, Caroline. This is beyond erratic. This is beyond crazy. This is evil personified.”