Caroline's ComeUppance

by Tess Quinn

  “You are here,” said Charles unnecessarily to the assembled group as he welcomed his sisters each with a quick embrace and nodded a greeting to his brother-in-law. “I did not expect you for upwards of an hour yet. Indeed, I am only just returning from Longbourn myself.”

  “Nonsense!” replied Aubrey. “It is you, sir, who have mistimed our advent. We are arrived precisely as scheduled, well in time for some nourishment.”

  Charles laughed at his brother-in-law’s predictable reply, unoffended by the rebuke it contained. “I am afraid I anticipated no formal repast, Hurst, until dinner this evening; but I am certain cook can assemble some cold cuts and such to address your immediate needs.”

  Aubrey Hurst harrumphed at the idea of such plebeian offerings, but forbore from comment for fear even this meagre fare would be repealed if he expressed distaste for it.

  “Let us not stand out here, then, come in, come in,” continued Charles. “My Jane, before she left, took particular care to ensure all was ready in your chambers. You must be eager to refresh yourselves after your journey.” He began to lead them into the house, taking Louisa’s arm in his as he walked and leaving Caroline to follow along with Aubrey Hurst.

  At the mention of ‘my Jane’ Caroline checked herself. So, the wedding had not yet taken place, but it would seem Miss Bennet had wasted no time in establishing herself as mistress of Netherfield; a position designated for Caroline not so long ago, before Charles’s engagement changed everything. Though Caroline had no great love of this house nor, moreover, of presiding over any house in this tedious country, yet she bristled at being so easily and naturally pushed aside. Did no one consider her feelings at all?

  Charles took no notice of Caroline’s irritation as his attention was consumed by Louisa, who offered her brother platitudes for his happiness as they walked along. Caroline listened with but half an ear to their prattle as they entered the house. It was only on the mention of Darcy that her full attention was recalled to her siblings’ conversation.

  “Ah, yes,” Charles replied to Louisa’s question, “Darcy indeed stays at Netherfield. There is far more room and comfort for him here than at Longbourn.”

  Caroline could well imagine Darcy’s preference for remaining at Netherfield – spared the constant attentions of that Bennet mother. She made some comment to the effect under her breath, but Charles caught it and laughed. “Now, Caroline, Mrs Bennet is not so unbearable. Indeed, since three of her daughters are now settled, she has become almost calm in her attentions. But you suppose well to think that Darcy finds it a bit less sanguine to endure her than I.” Charles blushed at this last, coming aware of having slipped something he should not have expressed. An awkward silence ensued as he gave thought to how to turn a topic he had never meant to begin.

  Caroline adopted an innocent tone and asked, “So where is Mr Darcy? I am surprised not to find him with you.” She set her features after speaking so as to conceal her level of interest in his reply.

  “Oh, he will be along soon, I doubt not. He has only just arrived back at Longbourn.” At his sisters’ quizzical glances, Charles explained. “Darcy escorted Miss Elizabeth, Jane and Mrs Bennet to town for a few days for some shopping. They came back today – in fact, I was returning from greeting them when you arrived. I am surprised you did not meet or pass them upon the road. Darcy was having a word with Mr Bennet when I came away, but he follows me shortly.”

  Caroline tucked away this knowledge to consider further in solitude – both that Mr Darcy had been in town and yet not called upon the Hursts; and that after some days in close company with Mrs Bennet, he could be ripe for gentle intimations of the folly of his betrothal, an observation much more to her liking than the first.

  Sighing audibly when she gained her rooms, Caroline was glad to be alone after her journey and for the occasion to think, to plan. No doubt Aubrey and Louisa would change from their travelling clothes and repair to the parlour quickly for the refreshments Charles had arranged, but Caroline felt no need of their further company so soon nor of sustenance before dinner. Charles had indicated that the Misses Bennet would be dining with them this evening. Caroline would spend the afternoon ensuring she was prepared.

  “Allen?” Caroline called out, noting from the arrangement of her personal effects in the rooms that her maid had arrived well before she herself had done.

  “Yes, Miss?” Sara Allen came from the closet adjacent to the bedchamber, holding one of Caroline’s dressing robes.

  “Bring me some tea, Allen, will you? I will take a short rest before preparing for dinner. And I will wear the apricot gown tonight, I think, you can press that one for me after.”

  “Of course, Miss, I will bring your tea straight away.” Allen returned to the closet long enough to select the gown Caroline had indicated, and its corresponding gloves, slippers, and chemises. She curtseyed briefly in Caroline’s direction as she closed the door and made her way to the kitchen and laundry from the back stairs.

  ~~~~~~

  Sara Allen deposited Miss Caroline’s garments in the laundry room to attend to later and went to prepare tea. As she approached the kitchen, she heard voices in converse, and laughter issued forth as Allen opened the door. At her entry, however, an abrupt silence took hold. She curtseyed a greeting to the housekeeper, Mrs Nichols, then nodded at the two maids who sat at the oak table, smiling as she did so. They greeted her genially enough, but did not resume their talk immediately. Sara could only surmise that they had been enjoying a joke at her mistress’s expense. She knew that Mister Charles’s sisters were not well liked among the staff here, and it was common knowledge that Caroline Bingley had set her intentions on Mr Darcy long ago. Sara had little doubt the entire staff of Netherfield enjoyed the prospect of Miss Caroline’s discomfort in the current situation.

  After a brief conversation with Mrs Nichols regarding the latest news from town, Sara carried the completed tea tray to Miss Caroline’s chamber, knocking and entering quickly. Caroline stood with her back to the room, looking out the window at Netherfield’s garden, obviously intent on her thoughts. Sara poured tea and carried the cup to her mistress, earning a nod in acknowledgment. Caroline was still engrossed in the garden as Sara slipped quietly from the room to see to her remaining work.

  As she passed the landing towards the back stairs, Sara glanced out at the view that had so captured Miss Caroline’s attentions. She stopped for a moment to survey the garden. The lawn was cropped short, with grasses browning in spots with the lateness of the season. Trees retained differing hues and quantities of leaves, many of those that had detached themselves now swirling in a wide arc, carried aloft and forming a wake on the breeze, some of them collecting around the rosemary border hedges. A few stubborn roses clung to naked branches along the espaliered west wall, but these were pale invalids, ghostly reminders of earlier, heartier sisters. Each new gust saw petals released to join the dance of the wind.

  None of this, decided Sara, would have garnered particular note from Miss Caroline, however. Rather, Sara directed her gaze to Mr Darcy, just gaining the terrace after having made his way across the lawn from the stables. Surely he had been the object of her mistress’s concentrated attention.

  Sometime later as she refreshed Miss Caroline’s gown, Sara pictured again Mr Darcy’s form as he had appeared on the terrace. Sara understood Miss Caroline’s attraction to him; indeed the maid herself was smitten from afar by the gentleman. No doubt about it, Mr Darcy was a handsome man. Even seen from the second-floor window, Mr Darcy’s impressive height was unmistakable; tall and broad of shoulder, well proportioned, his erect bearing enhancing the effect. Lean as well, he certainly had not gone to flesh as Mr Hurst had done of late. With his riding coat unfastened and billowing behind him as he walked, Sara had noted Mr Darcy’s feline gait, his fluid movements unusual in a man of size. He had carried worn leather gloves in one hand, idly slapping his thigh with them as he crossed the garden. His dark hair was tousled from his ride – S
ara noted he had worn no hat – and a healthy blush had stained his cheek from the exertion of his exercise. The effect added a youthful tenor to his countenance that balanced his serious demeanour. He had appeared much as always, and yet something about him had seemed altered today…

  Suddenly Sara realised the difference. Mr Darcy had been smiling as he approached the terrace! Sara had of course seen Mr Darcy smile at times, laugh in conversation with his friends. But how out of the usual it seemed for him to have been crossing the garden alone, smiling to himself. As she considered it, Sara again pictured him carelessly tapping his gloves as he walked. Yes, there had been a lightness to Mr Darcy, only adding to his appeal. If this was attributable to his betrothal to Miss Bennet, then Sara would have to tread lightly around her mistress during their stay at Netherfield.

  Sara’s thoughts turned to Miss Caroline. That lady would be in misery in the coming days. Sara suspected that her mistress had come to Netherfield with some view to changing Mr Darcy’s heart in her own favour. But from her brief glimpse of him, Sara doubted any such attempt could succeed. A wave of pity swelled up in the maid for her employer.

  ~~~~~~

  Caroline stole one last appraising glance in the glass to ensure all was well, took in a deep breath and exhaled, and opened the door of her chamber. She made her way down to the front drawing room, certain that all of Netherfield’s party but she were already in place there, though she knew that the guests had yet to arrive. That was a stroke of luck for her, she thought. She would have the occasion to address Darcy for a short while before his affianced joined them. Caroline drew a mental picture of Elizabeth Bennet entering the drawing room to find Caroline, resplendent in her apricot silk, holding Darcy’s attention. That should establish the evening in a proper tone. The thought gave Caroline a sly smile as she approached the drawing room to make her appearance.

  Chapter Three:

  First Encounters

  A

  low hum of conversation came to Caroline through the drawing room door, the barest murmur of male tones. She stopped momentarily, cupped her hand softly around her curls to ensure they were in place, took one last deep breath and released it slowly. Then, assuming her most dazzling smile, she opened the door and skimmed into the room.

  At her quick glance around, her smile vanished.

  “Caroline, here you are at last! What shall I pour for you?” Charles held a decanter of sherry in one hand, but nodded to the full array of other beverages on the cart. When his sister just stood quietly, he added, “You look lovely, my dear. I suppose one must excuse a late entrance to see you looking so well -- the art of beauty does require time and attention, does it not?”

  Caroline’s eyes narrowed as she smiled without humour. She knew her brother’s remarks to be well intended, but he seemed to have a talent for insulting with kindness. A retort was on the tip of her tongue when Aubrey Hurst – standing with Charles, his hand bearing an empty stem extended towards the bottle – interrupted.

  “Another sherry would go down well, Bingley, since you offer. Must have something to placate my digestion, as you are not prepared to dine as yet.”

  Louisa chastised her husband by habit for the quantity of his drink, but without enthusiasm; and his remark had provided a convenient opening for Caroline. Drawing Charles’s attention back to herself she said, “I trust Mr Darcy will make his appearance before your guests arrive, Charles.”

  “Oh, Darcy will be arriving with them.”

  “With them?”

  “He rode to Longbourn to escort the ladies in my carriage. They should be arriving at any moment.”

  “Was that necessary?” Caroline was grateful that Hurst asked the question she dared not pose herself.

  “Darcy had a book he wished to loan to Mr Bennet, some philosophical enquiry by… someone or other. He thought to deliver it in person, and return with the Longbourn party.”

  “Hmmpphh” was Aubrey Hurst’s reply. “More likely the man is besotted! It’s enough to send the carriage for them, why squander your own comforts to accompany it?”

  “The Longbourn party? Are we to expect more than your Miss Bennet and her sister?” Louisa almost managed to keep the misgivings from her tone as she contemplated the possibility of entertaining the entire Bennet clan on her first evening at Netherfield.

  “One addition only -- a particular friend of Mr Bennet who travelled with the ladies from town to visit for some days. I thought to invite him to round out our numbers.”

  Caroline and Louisa looked to one another immediately, alarm writ in their expressions as each recalled that odious vicar they had met last year, until Charles went on. “He appears most amiable on first acquaintance. A Mister Tremayne, I believe, known to Mr Bennet from Oxford.”

  Relief diminished the strain in Louisa’s countenance; she was certain that was not the name of the ingratiating little man she remembered with such distaste. Caroline, however, continued to radiate annoyance. If Mr Tremayne was a particular friend of Mr Bennet, she wondered at his coming out to dine almost as soon as he had arrived. She could only conclude that Mr Tremayne had been intended to partner her for the evening; presumably at the instigation of one or other of the Miss Bennets. No, not Jane Bennet. Caroline had to concede that Jane was too guileless for such manoeuvres. This was the work of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Well, it will not alter my plans, thought Caroline. He can be as handsome or rich as may be (however doubtful if he is friend to the Bennets) and he will not turn my head.

  As this thought was setting Caroline’s will, the sound of animated voices carried through from the hallway. The Longbourn party had arrived, it seemed. Only a moment later the drawing room door was arcing open to admit them all.

  The Misses Bennet entered arm in arm, laughing at some intimacy between them. Charles Bingley crossed over at once to greet them, holding Jane’s eye and smile a long moment beyond cordiality before turning to Elizabeth for a genial acknowledgment. As he began to offer them a drink, the remaining party entered the room.

  Caroline took a small step back, so compelling was the presence of Mr Darcy to her. He took her breath away, unaware of the effect of his entry as he conversed with the gentleman he ushered in directly ahead of himself. On making his point, however, Darcy stopped, surveyed the dining party, and looked directly at Caroline. “Miss Bingley,” he said, dropping his head in a formal bow to her, a slight lilt in his pronouncement of her name. Caroline assumed her most beguiling smile and curtseyed in return, lifting her eyes to him as she did so to look through ginger lashes. She was looking still when Darcy turned his attentions to the Hursts, bowed a greeting to them as well, then turned towards the gentleman on his right.

  “May I present to you Mr Philip Tremayne,” Darcy said to the room at large. “Bingley you have met, sir.” This to Tremayne. “The gentleman near the fire is Mr Aubrey Hurst, with Mrs Hurst his wife, and sister to Charles, to his left. And this lady, also their sister, Miss Caroline Bingley.” Only when Tremayne’s bow to Caroline called for return acknowledgment did she move her gaze from Darcy to make her courtesies to the final guest. She nearly cried out in surprise on doing so. She curtseyed, this time looking down to purchase a moment to compose herself.

  Mr Tremayne was ninety if he was a day! He was a tiny man, standing barely chest high to Darcy, no higher than Caroline herself would do. He seemed to be all angles, there was so little of flesh covering his prominent bones. He had hardly a hair on his head, just small wisps here and there of gossamer white down that only accentuated his enormous ears; and yet thick and billowing white brows topped cherubic eyes that gleamed with delight. He resembled nothing so much as a field rabbit poking out from under a prized cabbage. He smiled crookedly at Caroline and gave her a most gallant bow.

  Formalities concluded, it seemed everyone began to move at once around Caroline. Charles, having poured sherry for his lady, made his way to Mr Tremayne to offer a host’s welcome. Louisa and Hurst flanked Jane to ingratiate themselves. Da
rcy immediately joined Elizabeth, and Caroline noted the hand he placed briefly upon her arm as he escorted her to the drinks trolley.

  Of Caroline, it seemed, nobody took notice.

  The lady took the moment to consider the room and its occupants. After all, every good battlefield general must assess his ground before devising an attack strategy. This particular field, she could see, would be best won through stealth and subtlety. She must determine who among the party could be useful, however unwittingly.

  Louisa and Hurst she discounted immediately, as either too much absorbed in their own comforts or lacking in sufficient interest and pluck to be of help. Charles was so riveted to Jane as to have eyes for nothing else. He might prove useful, but only if Caroline managed to divert his attentions. She did not discount him out of hand, but questioned the sagacity of focusing her efforts on distracting Charles for the small advance doing so might afford.

  But what of Jane? Could she be put to use against her own Elizabeth? Certainly not by design – Jane would neither countenance any upset to her sister nor was she capable of subterfuge. But her innate surety in the goodness of human motive (the simpleton) might be turned to advantage, if

  Caroline could plant seeds of concern for Elizabeth in Jane’s mind. Caroline tucked this thought away safely.

  Mr Tremayne was an unknown in this campaign. Caroline would have to reserve judgment on this gentleman until he revealed something of his character. She wondered, on the basis of his longstanding acquaintance with Mr Bennet, how well Mr Tremayne knew – or admired – the Bennet daughters.

  There remained, then, only the happy couple itself. Her best tactic, indeed, probably lay in a direct if subtle approach. Divide and conquer.

  Watching the pair as they talked together on the settee in companionable rapport, Caroline realized she had set herself no small task. But she had never shirked a challenge of importance and would not do so now. Her happiness – and she told herself that of Mr Darcy as well – depended upon the fortitude she brought to her efforts now.