Caroline's ComeUppance

by Tess Quinn

  And now, as she began to stitch the tear – thankfully it was so near the seam that it could be made to appear part of it for invisibility – Sara felt something odd and brittle in a back pleat of the garment. Reaching up underneath it, her fingers pulled out a tiny twig with two small leaves attached. How in the world had that gotten there? Miss Caroline was certainly not known for a lover of nature, and had not been out the day before in this gown. Sara began to investigate, but rather than finding answers, all she found were more curiosities. She discovered a few more tiny leaf segments embedded in seams and folds. And on the petticoat of the dress, she noticed two smudged marks with what seemed flecks of bark embedded in them. (Those would take some work to clean.)

  This was impossible! To do this, Miss Caroline would have to have climbed into the plane tree. But how – and why – would she ever do so? A right mystery, it was; and Sara could only shake her head in wonder, and tuck away the details to add to the other strange goings on of late here.

  ~~~~~~

  While Allen worked on her sewing, Caroline stood in the library, held in the grip of an astonishment that precluded movement. She clutched her brandy in her hand, and had she any stronger hold of the deep-bowled glass, it would surely have shattered under the force.

  Sir John Ravensby stood opposite her, for all the world in comfort and completely composed yet again after his initial outburst, as Caroline struggled for words. He held a brandy himself, and leisurely took a swallow of it while Caroline stared at him open-mouthed. Then, displaying some empathy for the jolt he had caused her, he crossed the short distance to Caroline, laid down his glass and pried hers from her hand, placing it beside his own on the table adjacent to her chair. He gently took her arm, and guided her once more into the fireside seat; then crouched down beside it, leaning on the arm and glancing earnestly at her.

  After what seemed hours but was a mere moment, she finally stammered, “Have you lost your senses?”

  Sir John laughed, that raspy bark which was so distinctive. “That is my girl! Feel better now?” Caroline again looked at him in disbelief.

  “I will not dignify your behaviour with an answer. But… how did you get in here? Did someone admit you in my absence?” Her countenance reflected her alarm that the staff might be so lax in its consideration of her safety.

  “Ah, that is my Caro! Much more like it. For that is certainly the important question: did anyone see me enter your private rooms? Whatever shall we do? You shall have to marry me to avoid a scandal!”

  His sport of her revived Caroline. “How dare you! What would you have me do? Could you seriously expect me to answer your initial question? It is ludicrous.”

  Sir John’s simple “No” silenced her once more in confused vexation.

  Caroline gaped at him yet again. The man was exasperating, and she would have no more of it. She stood in order to gain some advantage over the still-crouching man. She crossed her arms across her chest, tightening the grip of her hands on her arms to control her tumbling emotions. Raising her chin in defiance, she looked down at Sir John with total disdain. “Leave my house, sir. Through the way you entered, through the front door, through the chimney for all I care. I will not be treated in this manner. I have no wish to see you again. Leave.”

  Sir John remained as he was for a moment, then slowly stood and faced Caroline with a pensive half-smile. Softly, he replied, “Certainly, if you wish it, I will leave. But may I tell you on departing that my proposal, though abrupt, was very much in earnest – it is no jest.” Caroline’s bearing did not change, but her eyes flickered at his words; she moved her gaze to the side to avoid looking directly at the gentleman, sniffing her disprove in a deep, audible breath as she did so.

  He said, “But I did not – do not – expect you to answer it. Indeed, I do not wish you to do so, now.” At this, Caroline could not help but look upon Sir John as he continued. “For I would have you consider it carefully, and only after knowing something of who I am, whom you would be accepting or rejecting. I came here this evening to share some of that with you, though admittedly we started poorly. That was my misjudgement – your beauty in that gown forced my speech prematurely.”

  Caroline evinced a show of disbelief even as she searched Sir John’s countenance for confirmation of his expressed feelings. When she looked away again without saying any thing to him, he concluded: “I will go now.”

  Belying his last words, he stood still, willing Caroline with his eyes to look at him again. After a moment, she did so, but her expression had not softened. They stood thus for some minutes, neither speaking. Finally, Sir John raised the corners of his lips in a pointed smile, nodded his head in farewell to the lady, turned and walked to the library door.

  ~~~~~~

  Sara put the last stitches in Miss Caroline’s dress, but questions still crowded her mind. She could find no explanation for the bizarre clues the dress had given up other than that her mistress had been in that tree. Then she recalled believing that she heard a man’s voice in Miss Caroline’s room as well last night. Her curiosity would not be held at bay. She must see what she could make of this. Placing the dress in the corner to see to its laundering in the morning, Sara made her way downstairs to Miss Caroline’s room. She knocked, timidly at first, then with more confidence. There was no reply. She let herself into the room and crossed quickly to the windows, opening the one identified as having caused the torn garment. There was a small amount of moonlight tonight, and after adjusting her eyes to the night, she could see the tree branch that reached the window. It held scuffed marks where some bark had been rubbed; surely a sign that it had been used for someone’s passage, either from or into the window. This mystery was growing deeper, and Sara could not but pursue it further.

  Quitting Caroline’s room, Sara went downstairs, passing the library on the first floor. She heard no noise at its door, but as she had not been called yet, she presumed her mistress was still within. Sara continued down the stairs to the front door and pulled back its bolts. She went outside, leaving the door ajar for re-entry, and made her way to the plane tree outside Miss Caroline’s window. After a moment to again allow her eyes to adjust to the moonlight, Sara searched the ground around the tree. Indeed, she found footprints just at the base of it, and extending out for some yards. Though the indentations were not deep, they appeared to show the outline of a man’s foot, a rather large one; but there were other marks that might have been made by anyone. There were also scrapes on the tree trunk, as though it had been climbed. Oh, my, she thought. Miss Caroline appears to be living a secret life! Well, good for her, I suppose; though I trust and hope that she is being prudent to some degree. But I am sorely moved now to find out more. I must keep my eyes and ears attuned to her from now on.

  Sara admitted herself to the house again and rebolted the door for the night. She walked up the stairs. Just as she reached the top, the library door opened. Thinking her mistress would want her, she walked toward the door, but on her approach she was startled to see a man coming out. Sara froze in place, only feet from him when the gentleman turned in her direction. The sight of her brought him to a standstill at the door. Even as he opened his mouth to speak, from inside the library Sara heard Miss Caroline say “Sir John, wait!” An instant later, Caroline herself was at the door looking first to the gentleman, then upon realizing Sara was there, looking to her maid with an expression of guilty surprise.

  This frozen tableau resolved itself when Sir John turned to Caroline. She cleared her throat and formally said “Sir, would you be so kind as to remain but a few minutes more to finish our converse?” He nodded gravely. To her maid, Caroline continued, “Allen, come in to the library for a moment.” Sara curtseyed, and followed the others into the room.

  Sara Allen stood in some anxiety as Miss Caroline crossed to stand before the room’s windows. She noticed that the fire had died down, and to cover everyone’s palpable discomfort, she hurried over to stir it up and add another log. The roo
m’s other occupants stood silent and motionless while she did so, Sir John somewhat in the shadows to the side of the door. When Sara finished, she returned to the library doorway, but went no further without leave of her mistress.

  Finally, Miss Caroline turned from the windows. Twice she began to speak and twice stopped after only a word. Finally – “I have some business to conclude here, Allen, but I shall call for you in” – here she stopped to glance briefly at Sir John – “half an hour or so.”

  Allen curtseyed and said “yes, Miss.” When nothing more was said, she made to leave, but as she did so, Miss Caroline recalled her.

  With a countenance deliberately void of expression, Caroline said, “Allen! You did not see this gentleman here tonight!”

  Allen again curtseyed, looked down, then returned a glance to her lady as she said, “What gentleman would that be, Miss?”

  “Very good. You may go.”

  Allen closed the door behind her, leaving Caroline and Sir John on opposite ends of the room in studied distraction. Sir John was first to try to break the tension, though his choice of method had the opposite effect. He crossed to the window, stood directly in front of Caroline, saying nothing until she eventually looked up at him. Finding her eyes, Sir John held them with his own.

  “Well?” he asked.

  ~~~~~~

  Sir John looked at Caroline, awaiting her reply. He gave away nothing of his feelings at that moment, simply waited to hear if she wished to continue their meeting tonight. Finally, with an exasperated ‘tsk’ of her lips, Caroline closed her eyes, sighed, and told Sir John to sit down. He swept his hand in a gentlemanly gesture to invite her to seat herself first. Then, taking up both their glasses, he went to the drinks trolley and topped them up with brandy. Caroline remained silent until he had returned and handed her a glass.

  “Sir John,” she started. Then she stopped, obviously searching for words. What could she possibly say to this man whose acquaintance was obtained in such an unorthodox manner; who treated her more familiarly – and sometimes coarsely – than anyone in her life had done from the moment of their first encounter; who was obviously involved in intrigues of the highest nature and who, beyond that, was a complete mystery himself; who incensed her at every turn; and who could propose to her, if such you could call it, with what could be no basis of feeling?

  The man was a rogue, he had to be! His behaviour was coarse though his speech and dress were refined. He was accepted blindly – courted even – in the best circles of London without anyone knowing anything of him. And until three months ago, he apparently did not exist. Why was she having this same debate with herself yet again; rehashing the same information as if on closer inspection it would make him more acceptable, or change that he was a man to avoid? Why did she even want to know about him after the odd nature of their short shared history? And yet she did, she was fascinated by him in spite of herself, in spite of not wanting it to be so. So what to say to him…

  “Miss Caroline,” he said gently. “Perhaps if you would allow me to start anew… I will begin by telling you something of me, and of you as well.”

  At that, Caroline’s eyes flashed up at Sir John. Was he presuming too much yet again? He saw her irritation, and hastened to deflect it. “Please, I mean no disrespect, Caro… Miss Bingley. When I have finished what I have to impart, you may ask me all the questions you like and I will endeavour to answer them, certainly all those that I can without risking the welfare of others.”

  After a moment’s deliberation, Caroline nodded her assent, though she held herself in an attitude of defiant scepticism and looked into the fire as he began to speak.

  “First, let me assure you again that my proposal is in earnest, Caroline, though I doubt I would have uttered it so curtly as I did if your appearance in that gown had not taken my breath away when I saw you. You challenge my control – my better judgment.”

  Caroline looked at him to see if he was baiting her with this remark, but he seemed solemn enough. He took a sip of brandy and continued. “But before you would answer me, you must know who I am, and who I am not, and what I know of you. Let me start, however, by telling you what I will not reveal to you tonight.”

  Caroline started to protest, but Sir John held up his hand, and begged that she give him leave to talk in his own way; and that if when he was finished it was not sufficient for the lady, she could tell him so. Caroline was tiring of this, her patience worn thin long ago. But she had come this far. Let the man talk, and if nothing else came of it, she might learn something of him that could be useful to her. She nodded again for him to go on.

  “I will not tell you from where my title derives, or my family connections. I will not tell you where I make my home when not in London or in France or Spain. I will not tell you my financial worth. These things are unimportant.” He saw Caroline bristle, and quickly added, “They are unimportant to me as a basis for marriage. If one day you accept me, I will of course share this with you. Until then…”

  Sir John’s comment faded off, and then he softened his approach. “You have seen me in social situations, you have observed my attire and my speech, and you have been a guest in my brother’s London home where I now reside.” Caroline could not suppress a grim smile at the irony of his latter statement as he went on. “Would that not be enough to suggest that you would not want for joining yourself to me? The rest is posturing; and I do not want you or anyone to choose marriage to me or not to do so based upon those things. I wish for a partnership, Caroline. I want a marriage of minds and of hearts, unfettered by those things we have or have not.”

  Caroline could not help but reply, “I see. So it is of no concern to you what I also would bring to a union?”

  Sir John laughed. “If you speak of your twenty thousand pounds, it is of no import to me. Your intangible assets are my only interest. Yes, I know of your dowry, Caroline. All of London knows of it, and half of London would have pursued it with all assiduousness if you had not set your sights so early on in making a match with Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

  At the mention of this name, Caroline started. She glared at Sir John, and he answered her unspoken question. “Yes, I know of that as well. I have learned much of you, Caroline, since our fateful meeting some months past. For example, I know that your parents are deceased, and you have no other family outside of your sister and your brother; the former married to a reasonably comfortable man who maintains his assets by living off the bounty of others as often as he can. Your brother, Charles, was recently wed to a beautiful but penniless gentleman’s daughter and now resides, when not in London, at Netherfield Park in Hertfordshire. I know that you resent the marriages your siblings have made for not advancing your family’s status. And I know why, or I surmise so.”

  Caroline glared at Sir John. “You cannot possibly know anything of me!”

  Sir John answered first with a gentle smile. “At the age of twelve, you were an active girl with a love of merriment. You found yourself enamoured of the silversmith’s son, and spent a great deal of your time watching him learn his father’s trade. You formed so strong an attachment to the boy that you announced proudly to your family one day that you intended to marry him as soon as you were of an age. And I know how your family accepted that pronouncement.

  Your father forbade you to see the young man again; and he impressed upon you over and over at every opportunity that you were a lady of wealth and refinement; that the very trade that had made you a lady excluded itself thereby from your future. He beat it into you, albeit with words, that your place was to marry someone of stature, of wealth, of influence. Your father was well aware that, having acquired his own wealth by trade, albeit via his own father, he had still a disadvantage in society. And he wished his children to advance themselves and his own name by advantageous marriages and business acumen.

  I know that your sister, already betrothed to become Mrs Hurst at the time, ridiculed you for your attachment to the smith’s boy unmercifull
y. And that you resolved then and there, at that crucial age of first love and family obligation, that you would not be derided again. You changed, Caroline. Avarice for the good of your family name became your teacher; and you an exemplary student. And when shortly thereafter you were sent to London to school you brought your resolve with you.”

  Caroline was stunned, had listened in escalating degrees of horrid disbelief and alarm to Sir John’s narrative. “How could you possibly know such things of me?” she cried.

  Sir John had the sense to look sheepish, as he said, “Caroline, you know by now that the business I engage in relies on an ability to gather intimate information of all ilk. I own that, when once my interest in you was piqued, I sought to find out more about you. I will not tell you how I obtained such insights, but you must know I have the skill and cadre of informants to do so. I can not be sorry I did so, for it secured my judgment of you considerably to the good.”

  “Ha! And that, I suppose, justifies such an act of deceit? Sir, I do not need to be reminded of my youth, nor have you pronounce my character. I believed the intent of this meeting was for you to disclose your own history, not mine.”

  “Yes, that is true enough. If you will but bear with me, however, your wait will be rewarded.” Sir John received no reply from the lady and so continued. “And so the girl became the woman, and made her entrance in society with the paramount purpose of redeeming herself to her father’s eyes, even when that father was gone.

  Now we come to Mr Darcy of Pemberley. You might have thought him heaven-sent when he struck a friendship of some note with your brother. The man has wealth and estates, family ties and connections, -- why, all that was missing was a title, but I am certain you felt you could manage to acquire him that.” Hearing this, Caroline shook her head in guilty confusion, damning him as she wondered how this man could read her mind so unerringly.