His hands, she loved. Their roughened skin spoke of a man who was strong and capable, not some frivolous dandy, good for nothing but gadding about town. Robert was a man whose hands could create and mold the world, and provide for and protect not only him, but those he loved. She hated the fine silk and lace, the kid gloves that never let her touch his face. They were a symbol of what was supposed to be important in life, but they held no value for her. To her, silk, lace and all the senseless rules of propriety that went with them were what held Robert and her apart.
“All will be well, my love,” Robert whispered into her hair.
She nodded, her face pressed against his chest, trying desperately not to cry. She didn’t want to have to invent some inane story about being stung by a bee or pricked by a thorn to explain away a face blotchy with tears.
Robert put his hands on her shoulders, holding her away from him so he could look into her eyes. “We’ll be together soon. It won’t be like this forever. Don’t cry, sweetling.” Cupping her face, he used his thumbs to smooth away the few tears that escaped her control.
“I know it won’t be much longer,” she said, and she did know. She was nearly twenty now. They had only to wait fifteen more months. Fifteen more months and they could marry and no one could stop them. “But it doesn’t make leaving you now hurt any less, and . . .” She gazed into his marvelous gray eyes, reaching up to cover his hands with her own. She didn’t want to say what was in her mind, but she and Robert never kept secrets from one another. “More and more, my brother and sister are pressing me into situations where I must fend off suitors. Worse, Louisa has made leading statements. I worry she’s suspicious I’ve placed my affections. If she were to suspect you, I can’t abide thinking on what trouble it might cause us. It’s all so worrisome.”
“Too worrisome?” he asked, his expression clouding.
“Of course not,” she said, forcing a smile through her tears, which were now flowing freely. “I would deny a thousand suitors and wait a lifetime for you. You know that.”
“I do,” he said, looking very serious.
She threw her arms about him again. She loved Robert all the more when he was serious. “I’ll manage. It’s only fifteen more months.”
They needed some way of convincing people she was trying to marry so that the press of eligible young men would stop. So much pressure was put on her. Her brother talked of sending her to some distant relatives, feeling she might find a husband in a small town, since she wasn’t finding one in London. She might have better luck evading suitors in a small town, but she didn’t want to leave Robert. She had to convince people she desperately wanted to marry someone else, someone who had no interest in her dowry or in her. She must try to attract someone and fail.
If only they didn’t need her brother’s consent to marry, they would be fine. They could live off of her dowry. It would give them a thousand pounds a year. That wasn’t wealth as she was used to, but it was comfort. She knew all about wealth and what it could, and could not, give you. She watched the people around her leading their hollow lives. She didn’t want to end up like that. She didn’t need money, only Robert.
But they both knew no one would believe that. No one would believe he really loved her. They would assume he was taking advantage of her. Robert was the son of a widowed clergyman, who had lived above his income. When Robert’s father died, the rectory went to the successor, and all their personal property was sold to cover debts. Robert went into service at fourteen. His father had educated him, but a little Latin hadn’t given him a means to live.
They’d met at her married sister’s house, where she went to live. It started off as a mild friendship. He was a frightened fourteen-year-old who wasn’t sure how his fellow servants would accept him. She was the same age and living in a world colored by sorrow. Her parents had died in the previous year.
Her friendship with Robert had started with a few exchanged words now and then. It wasn’t until the day he saved her, when she tripped, falling down a flight of stairs, that it blossomed into love. She would never forget the look on his face. The harsh shadow of his fear for her as he demanded to know if she was harmed couldn’t mask the glow of love beneath. Nor could he hide the possessiveness of the strong arms he wrapped around her. Every contour of his body betrayed the truth of his feelings for her. Far from being affronted, she immediately felt the rightness of it, that her longtime confidant and friend should be the one man she would ever truly love.
Chapter One
“Really, Charles, leasing an estate for a year and expecting me to run it without having seen it is a little thoughtless,” Caroline said as she headed for the carriage. She knew she sounded waspish, but it served him right for arranging her life in a way that wasn’t to her liking, without even a by your leave.
“Netherfield is beautiful,” Charles responded. “You’ll love it.”
“I won’t love leaving London with the season beginning,” she said. “People are just beginning to return to town.”
“And they will go back to the country when the hunting season starts,” he said, his tone affable as always. “I’ve invited Darcy to join us, and he’s accepted. You have to come with me. I need a hostess. I expect to enjoy meeting the local families. Besides, the Hursts will appreciate closing their London house for a month or two.” The unspoken thought was that the Hursts didn’t quite live above their income, but came close to it. Fortunately, they continued to pay their staff when they were away visiting.
“I would love to see Mr. Darcy,” Caroline said, her mood lightening somewhat. Mr. Darcy would be perfect. Once, she worried he fancied her, but she’d put a swift end to that. She knew precisely how to annoy him while looking as if she were chasing him.
Nose in the air, she brushed past the footman. She envied Louisa, who allowed him to help her into the carriage. Caroline couldn’t be seen even touching him, much as she longed to. Louisa was allowed to say, “Thank you, Robert,” in her offhanded and unseeing way, but Caroline couldn’t even look at him. She didn’t dare. Once glance into those warm gray eyes and she would be undone. Even years of practice wouldn’t keep her face from giving her away.
When they arrived in Netherfield, it was a suitably charming place, which didn’t do much to sooth her disquiet at being separated from Robert. Her temperament was not improved by being required to dance that very evening. Although they had several hours to rest and get ready, she felt Charles really was unreasonable in insisting they attend an event so soon, when she would have preferred to increase her understanding of the household she was expected to manage. She would also have liked one evening of relative solitude in which to try to adjust to being removed so far from Robert. The first reason was the one she relayed to Mr. Darcy. Even though she knew he liked the idea of the dance even less than she did, she wanted him to think of her as someone who complained over trivia. The second reason she kept to herself.
Blissfully unaware of the turmoil he’d caused her, Charles clearly enjoyed himself at the dance, as was his wont. It amused her to see how thoroughly Mr. Darcy didn’t. He only danced with herself and her sister. He was abominably rude. He let everyone know he felt above his company. Caroline inwardly decried his poor manors, almost embarrassed to be associated with him, although his behavior was playing into her plan with perfection. Now, when she convinced her siblings that she’d set her cap at Mr. Darcy, they would think he’d encouraged her and she had reason to hope.
Louisa, Caroline noted, approved of Mr. Darcy’s boorish behavior. Louisa had become increasingly snobbish since marrying. Caroline supposed that, when one allowed the dictates of society to determine the most important decision of one’s life, it was only natural to then cater more strongly to those dictates. Louisa wanted to forget that their father earned his fortune through trade and embrace the standards of the class she married into. Propriety and standing must be set on a high pedestal indeed, and held there, to salve a lifetime of days and nights spent wit
h a man who hardly seemed to care if she was alive.
Caroline had spent many hours in the company of her sister and Mr. Hurst, and, while finding no true fault in either, their existence appeared tortured. When compared to the depth of affection she and Robert shared, it seemed a great sorrow to her that her sister must live in such a way. Caroline would never allow herself to succumb to that fate.
***
Thanks to Charles’ friendly manner, they were invited everywhere. Caroline did her best to keep up the illusion of courting Darcy’s interest. It wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped, for it sickened her to make even the pretense of betraying Robert. Still, the combined effects of feigned attraction to Mr. Darcy and affected aloofness toward any locals who may have thought to turn suitor, was working to unburden her of her siblings’ pressures to marry.
She hoped, also, that any suspicions Louisa may have that she’d improperly placed her affection were laid to rest. Certainly, her sister made no more remarks on the subject, a silence which made Caroline wonder if she’d misunderstood Louisa’s veiled references in weeks past. Caroline wished she needn’t be so cautious, but her sister and Mr. Hurst could easily turn Robert out without a reference, which could ruin a man in his station.
Her next opportunity to promote her subterfuge came at a large party hosted by Sir William Lucas. As if no one else were worth looking at, she watched Darcy as he enjoyed the performance of a Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Afterwards, Darcy spoke with Sir William, who accosted Miss Elizabeth when she passed them. The three held a brief conversation and then Darcy was alone. Caroline would have liked to speak with Miss Elizabeth, who seemed an interesting sort, but she knew if she were pursuing Mr. Darcy, this would be a good time to approach him, so she must.
"I can guess the subject of your reverie."
"I should imagine not."
In truth, from the look on his face as he watched Miss Elizabeth, Caroline was sure she could, but saying so would never do. "You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner—in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!" Let him think she was a snob. He was one, but he would resent it in someone else. She knew Darcy well, and to him, she was only a short step above those she criticized.
"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."
Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Her look was carefully designed to instill in Darcy the notion that she thought he was praising her eyes. It gave her great pleasure to goad him so, knowing he wouldn’t permit himself to give her even the slightest impression he had feelings for her.
Mr. Darcy replied with great intrepidity: "Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet! I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favorite?—and pray, when am I to wish you joy?"
"That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy."
"Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you."
He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure didn’t fool her into thinking the attraction wasn’t genuine, her wit flowed long. She knew this would antagonize him. He was basically a good man, but terribly proud and proper. He would not like her criticizing someone, even if he agreed with the criticism. To others, it must appear they were having an exceedingly agreeable conversation. Hopefully, Charles and Louisa were taking note.
***
It surprised Caroline when Louisa suggested they invite Miss Jane Bennet over for dinner when the men were dining with the officers. Caroline approved of the idea, since Jane Bennet was the most pleasant person in Hertfordshire, but not of her sister’s intent. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Charles was besotted with the girl. Caroline knew her sister well enough to realize Louisa invited Miss Bennet not out of kindness, but a desire to know her enemy. Her surprise came only from how seriously Louisa was taking this perceived threat to their social standing, for Charles was as fickle in love as a warm breeze in March.
Miss Bennet rode over and arrived soaking wet. They found her dry clothes, but the damage was done. She became ill and had to stay the night. Louisa, of course, thought Miss Bennet had planned this outcome, but Caroline didn’t think Jane had a contriving bone in her body. More likely, her ridiculous mother had hatched the potentially disastrous notion.
The next morning, while they sat at breakfast, Miss Elizabeth was shown into the parlor. She was really an enchanting picture, in spite of her muddy petticoat and dirty stockings. Her hair had an attractive disarray that Caroline wished she could achieve, and her face glowed and her eyes sparkled. A sidelong glance showed Mr. Darcy’s gaze riveted on her, and Caroline had to school away a smile.
“I’m sorry to intrude,” Miss Elizabeth said, “but I am concerned about my sister.”
“She is not doing well,” Caroline said. “When I checked on her before breakfast, I found she has a fever, is coughing, and has a bad headache.”
“I would like to see her.”
“Of course. I’ll take you to her at once,” Caroline said, touched by the concern apparent on Miss Elizabeth’s face.
Elizabeth ended up staying for the night, and probably would remain for several nights to come. Caroline wondered how Darcy would react. He was obviously attracted to her, but he would have to overcome his objections to her low connections before he acted on that attraction. Caroline didn’t want him to marry her immediately. She needed more time.
Still, she would like to see them wed. They seemed suited, and her own interests may be served. While the Bennet sisters were not so unacceptable as an unlanded member of a lower class, several of them were terribly improper and their mother bordered on the absurd. If Charles could see his idol, Mr. Darcy, marry so far beneath him, it may make him more willing to accept Robert.
The more Caroline saw of Miss Elizabeth, the more she thought her perfect for Mr. Darcy. She stood up to him. She was clever and witty. Caroline saw to it that Darcy had another opportunity to enjoy Miss Elizabeth’s grace by inviting her to walk back and forth in the room. Really, if she were the jealous type, she would be very jealous of Miss Elizabeth. When she walked, she flowed across the floor like a dancer. It surprised Caroline that Charles didn’t notice, but she supposed he was too taken with Miss Bennet, who was prettier in a placid way.
Caroline entertained herself by saying some rather contradictory things about accomplishments in women, allowing Miss Elizabeth to display her straight-forward common sense. A part of her found it amusing to play the snob, though the amusement was growing thin. She’d been hiding her true self for years, and it was wearing on her. How much more pleasant would it be to take Miss Elizabeth aside and speak frankly to her, to create in her a friend and confidant?
But Caroline didn’t know who she could trust. Miss Elizabeth was much more proper than her younger sisters, after all. Caroline dare not risk exposing herself, though she’d been feeling very alone since being forced to come to Netherfield. Trying to keep her mind from missing Robert, for moping about would rouse all of Louisa’s suspicions, she focused instead on the delicate task of promoting Miss Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy while making all appearance of courting him.
***
Caroline enjoyed the preparations for the dance Charles held. It gave her a chance to show her skill as a hostess. It was challenging, even wit
h Charles’ competent staff. She wished she could find an excuse for Mr. Hurst to bring Robert to Netherfield to help. She dreamed of dancing with him, although she realized they wouldn’t be permitted to dance. Indeed, after they were married they very well may never do so.
The morning following the dance, Darcy and Charles breakfasted early. As Mr. Hurst was sleeping in, Louisa and Caroline had the breakfast table to themselves. Caroline was uninclined to converse, however, her mind filled with memories of the party the night before. She relived every moment, substituting Robert for each man she’d danced with. In her imagination, it was his strong hands guiding her about the ballroom. When she gazed up through her lashes at her partner, it was Robert’s serious, loving, gray eyes gazing back. She smiled.
“The dance went very well,” Louisa said, drawing Caroline back to the reality of the breakfast parlor. “You are to be congratulated on your triumphant debut into being a hostess. If you succeed in catching Mr. Darcy, he will have no reason to be ashamed of your skills.”
“He seemed more interested in Miss Elizabeth,” Caroline replied, before she could think better of it. She hoped Louisa would gloss over her unconcerned tone and interpret the remark as a complaint.
“I don’t think so. I was near them when they danced. I couldn’t catch more than a few words, but they seemed to be arguing. She foolishly brought up Mr. Wickham’s name. I shouldn’t worry were I you.”
Caroline had tried to warn Miss Elizabeth about Wickham, but she’d brushed off the warning. “I’m not worried,” she said, to cover for her initial lack of concern. “I don’t believe she is trying to attract Mr. Darcy.”
“She’s a stupid girl if she isn’t, but I may have to agree with you. Still, it’s seeming more and more decided that Mr. Darcy may marry you.” Louisa smiled at the thought.
Pride & Prejudice Villains Revisited – Redeemed – Reimagined: A Collection of Six Pride and Prejudice Variation Short Stories Page 6