Once in the village, Louisa entered the shop and Caroline, as she was about go through the doorway, glanced back to observe Mr Darcy. He sat a horse very well, his back erect, his head held proudly, his hands firm yet gentle on the reins. She hoped the sight of him would bring on at least a spark of the fire that had filled her when she’d thought about Mr Tryphon. Last evening she’d been pulled towards her jewel box, her traitorous hands itching to retrieve the letter and read it again. Somehow she’d resisted the urge, but last night her dreams had been filled with images that caused her to become overheated, so that she slept but poorly and had awoken to sheets dampened with perspiration.
Before she could find out if the sight of Mr Darcy on his horse did cause her chest to hurt or her breathing to become laboured, she caught sight of the two youngest Bennets hurrying across the street to meet up with one of the officers. Accompanying him was a young man who Caroline at first didn’t notice, because the officer’s red coat was so bright. Once she’d recovered from the glare of colour, she looked to the other man, and instantly her chest was filled, not with heat but with the dull cold of horror.
George Wickham! What was he doing here? Four Bennet sisters had now joined the two men, and her horror increased, for Mr Darcy and Charles had observed the women and were even now turning their horses to join the group.
Before Caroline could so much as call out to her brother to warn him, or to beseech Mr Darcy to come to her so he might avoid seeing the group, Charles was lifting his hat and saluting Jane, his smile wide and warm. Although Mr Darcy’s back was facing her, Caroline could tell the exact moment he observed and recognised Wickham, for his shoulders stiffened. She walked a few steps along the street to where she could see both men’s faces.
Darcy had gone white, and his jaw was clenched in his effort to retain his composure. Wickham’s face showed a ruddiness that had not been there before, but his smile was easy and his eyes betrayed a mocking light. His bow was perfectly proper. Wickham had always been blessed with easy manners.
Caroline remained on the pavement, unable to look away, even when Louisa, who had finally noticed her sister had not followed her into the shop, came outside and called to her. When Caroline did not respond, Louisa followed her gaze, and her countenance, also, froze in shock.
The observed interaction was soon over, and Charles and Darcy turned their horses’ heads and returned to Caroline and Louisa. Charles was all smiles, for he had just seen Jane, who was clearly much recovered, since she’d been able to walk to Meryton from Longbourn, and had suffered no ill effects. Darcy’s face, though, was grim.
‘We no longer plan to go to Longbourn,’ Charles said, ‘since the object of our visit has already been accomplished.’ He turned to Darcy. ‘Shall we accompany the ladies back to Netherfield?’
Darcy did not look at his friend, instead choosing to look away, down the street towards the edge of town. ‘If you don’t mind, I feel the need for some vigorous exercise, and would like to continue our ride and cover some ground. If you prefer to stay with your sisters, I am perfectly content to do so alone.’
Charles, in his happiness over Jane’s state of good health, positively bubbled with energy, and quickly agreed that a good hard ride was exactly what he wished to do. The men trotted off, urging their horses into a canter as they left the last buildings of Meryton behind them.
‘Oh my!’ said Louisa, staring at Caroline, her eyes wide. ‘What a dreadful thing to happen.’
Caroline nodded, too overcome to speak. ‘What a dreadful thing for Mr Darcy,’ she said at last.
Louisa nodded. ‘I cannot think how he will bear up after this terrible blow.’
‘He is strong!’ Caroline said, and was astonished at the fierceness in her voice.
Louisa looked at her a moment, then said, ‘He is. But I cannot forget how he suffered last year, because of that odious man. And I cannot forgive Wickham for dear Georgiana’s sake, for her suffering was piteous indeed.’
Caroline swallowed in a throat gone dry. ‘Please, can we delay our shopping a little while? I am in great need of something to drink and there is a tea shop down the way.’
Louisa agreed and, despite the small size and shabby décor of the shop, the tea it served was surprisingly acceptable. The two sisters said little, both lost in their memories of the previous summer, some fifteen months ago.
Mr Wickham was the son of the late Mr Darcy’s steward. Wickham had been greatly favoured by the elder Mr Darcy, and when boys, Darcy and Wickham had been often in each other’s company. They’d even attended Oxford at the same time, taking rooms together, but their natures had diverged greatly. Mr Darcy had applied himself to his studies and had led an exemplary life. It was at university he’d met Charles, and a strong friendship beneficial to both had developed. Darcy had tutored Charles in what he needed to know to take his place among the other wealthy young men, and Charles had encouraged Darcy to get out more among people, to relax at times and enjoy all that life could offer a young man in his position.
All of both Charles’ and Darcy’s encouragement, however, was wasted upon George Wickham. That young man had chosen a life of debauchery and personal pleasure, and so had wasted his chance to become educated and secure a respectable way of supporting himself. At last came a point when even Darcy, who out of loyalty to his deceased father had kept trying to help Wickham long past the time anyone else would have, could no longer turn a blind eye to the worst of Wickham’s excesses. The elder Mr Darcy had hoped George Wickham would take orders and had requested that his son turn over one of Pemberley’s richest livings to him. Wickham, however, when given a choice, had chosen to take a cash amount of money instead of working to become a clergyman. He took the generous amount of three thousand pounds offered by Darcy, and vanished.
Little had been heard of him since, until the disastrous time last summer. Caroline and Louisa did not know all the details but knew it had been shocking and terrible, for there was still a shadow in Georgiana’s eyes, at times, when she thought no one could see her.
The ladies finished their tea, and went in search of silken thread.
* * *
Mr Darcy was very quiet that evening, even more so than usual, refusing to join a table for cards with Mr and Mrs Hurst, or to sit and converse with Caroline or Charles. The latter, of course, could speak only of Miss Bennet, and of how well she looked. Darcy spent the first part of the evening after dinner gazing out of the window or into the fire, but Caroline noticed that he turned his attention more and more often to Charles, not to speak with him but to observe. As the night grew darker, the shadows were reflected on Darcy’s countenance.
Over the next few days, he continued to be taciturn. He went into Meryton not at all, no doubt to avoid having to see Wickham who, Caroline had learned, had joined the local militia.
‘No doubt,’ Caroline said to Louisa, ‘he will be eagerly sought after by legions of Bennet sisters.’
Mr Wickham was the subject of much conversation in the neighbourhood, and Caroline learned a number of interesting details when receiving or making calls. ‘George Wickham,’ she said to Louisa, when they were both returning home in the carriage after visiting Lady Lucas, ‘has become quite the favourite among the Bennets, just as I thought.’
‘Although,’ Louisa said thoughtfully, ‘it appears that he prefers Elizabeth over her sisters.’
Caroline laughed. ‘Miss Lydia’s nose must be quite out of joint. I confess that I am not unhappy to see Miss Eliza occupying her time elsewhere.’
‘She can mean nothing to Mr Darcy,’ said Louisa, shocked. ‘Surely you must know that.’
‘Of course.’
Caroline gazed out the carriage. Outwardly, no one had cause to think that she feared Mr Darcy was showing too much attention to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She recalled the smiles, his body leaning towards Eliza, the animation in his voice during conversation with her.
When she felt the most concerned about these silly trifl
es, she took out Mr Tryphon’s letter. She had begun doing so regularly, and even though each time she read it again, she resolved to toss it in the fire, somehow it always ended up back in her jewel case. Reading it reassured her. If Mr Tryphon felt so strongly about her then surely Mr Darcy, with his superior taste and discernment, could feel no less.
She still had no idea how she would behave towards Mr Tryphon when next they met. His stay in town was apparently for an indefinite time, and Eleanor’s letters continued to mention him in the most flattering light. Stephen had won a race in the park, or escorted her to the theatre and had the most interesting things to say about the play. Caroline missed her friends, both of them, for when she was with Mr Tryphon she felt she was the most beautiful, accomplished, and elegant woman in whatever room they happened to be in. Thinking this way, though, tended to bring on a repeat of the warmth inside her body and a flushed face, and despite how hard she was trying to experience these things when she was with Mr Darcy, she was unsuccessful. Surely that meant that Mr Darcy was the one for her. Her feelings for him were of long duration and had become stable. The strange things that happened when she was around Mr Tryphon occurred only because he was new to her. Plus, she associated him with Eleanor, and being around Eleanor was always dizzyingly exciting. That was the logical explanation for her unusual feelings, and she resolved now, as the carriage drew to a halt in front of Netherfield’s imposing front doors, that the next time she saw Mr Tryphon she would be coolly correct, polite, perhaps show a bit of happiness at seeing him, her friend, but nothing more.
The day of the Netherfield ball was fast approaching, and a few days later Charles and his sisters drove out to deliver some invitations personally. As they approached Longbourn, Jane and Elizabeth, who had apparently been out walking, appeared from the shrubbery.
‘Look,’ Caroline whispered to Louisa so Charles wouldn’t hear, ‘there is a leaf caught in Eliza’s hair.’
Charles wouldn’t have heard even if Caroline had shouted, for all his attention rested on Jane. He leapt from the carriage before it had completely stopped moving, and hastened to her side. ‘How well you look!’ he exclaimed, and then seemed content to stand and beam at her.
‘Jane!’ Caroline cried, descending somewhat less precipitously from the carriage than had her brother. ‘It has been an absolute age since we last met. Whatever have you been doing that has led you to so neglect your dear friends?’
Jane began to stammer something, but whatever she had to say was interrupted by Mrs Bennet, who hurried out of the house. ‘Come in, come in,’ she called. ‘There is no need to stand about when there is comfort and refreshments ready for you.’
Caroline glanced at Louisa. They’d hoped they could simply stop by, hand over the invitation, and leave before they had to see Mrs Bennet, but this was not to be. Charles already had Jane’s hand tucked into his arm, and he was walking beside Mrs Bennet towards the house, complimenting her on something or other about the garden.
‘Really,’ Louisa groused. ‘Why must he do that? This garden is unbearably plain.’ Jane glanced back, and instantly Louisa was all smiles. Hurrying to catch up, she said, ‘It does my heart good to see you once again in the best of health. You can have no idea of the time I have spent pining for you, hoping you were fully recovered.’
‘Thank you,’ Jane said, as Louisa slipped her hand through Jane’s arm on the other side from where Charles appeared to have taken up permanent possession, and they continued towards the house, talking of the lovely weather and the lovely garden.
Caroline, following them, glanced back to see Elizabeth hesitating before moving towards the house. Her attention was on Charles and her sister, and a small smile played on her lips. When she saw Caroline watching her, she came up beside her.
‘I am,’ Elizabeth said, ‘very glad to see your affection for my sister. She still speaks warmly about the kindnesses you showed her while she was ill and in your house.’
‘Of course,’ Caroline said heartily. ‘We could do no less for our dear friend.’
They both fell silent then, Caroline wondering if Elizabeth spent much time thinking about Mr Darcy. Of course she did; what girl in her position would not, when he held out the promise of great wealth and luxury?
They reached the house and entered the sitting room. Mrs Bennet called for tea and cake, and prattled on about something or other. Caroline and Louisa chose to spend their energy speaking to Jane, assuring her of their joy in seeing her today and how much, every day since she’d left Netherfield, they’d missed her. Meanwhile Charles, also, was trying to speak to Jane, and she attended him most assiduously, although she still showed her good manners and smiled and nodded at Caroline and Louisa whenever they paused for a moment without speaking.
‘My other daughters,’ Mrs Bennet said, so loudly that everyone in the room looked up in surprise, ‘will be most sorry to have missed you, Mr Bingley. Kitty and Lydia went into Meryton.’
‘And Miss Mary?’ Charles asked.
Mrs Bennet waved a hand dismissively. ‘Oh, she is somewhere about. I have not time to ensure I know where every one is, not with five daughters. Kitty and Lydia, though, for they are great favourites with the officers. And the new man, I think, has his eyes set on Lizzy.’ She glared at Eliza. ‘Although why she wouldn’t accompany her sisters, when she knows there is a good chance of seeing him. Such a gentleman, Mr Wick—’
At this point, Caroline hastily stood up, set aside her untasted tea, and said, ‘Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs Bennet. I am so sorry we have to rush off, but we have many calls to make today, to give out the invitations for the ball.’
‘The ball!’ Mrs Bennet clapped her hands. ‘Oh, how wonderful. How much we are all looking forward to it, aren’t we, girls?’ She glanced at Jane and Eliza. Jane glanced at Charles and blushed before nodding, while Eliza, too, smiled and gazed into the distance.
Charles, surprised by his sister’s abrupt end to the little party, stood also, and bowed in farewell. Jane and Mrs Bennet accompanied the Bingleys out to their carriage. As they left the house a young man appeared, wearing the wide-brimmed hat of a clergyman. He approached the group, clearly assured of a welcome. He looked as if he thought very well of himself, although Caroline could perceive no reason for his self-assurance, for he reminded her of nothing so much as a bantam rooster, strutting about a hen yard.
He reached them and made a low bow, even before looking to Mrs Bennet for an introduction. ‘My dear friends,’ she said to the Bingleys, ‘please may I introduce our cousin, Mr Collins. Mr Collins, Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley, and Mrs Hurst.’
Mr Collins bowed again, so low this time that he wobbled a bit upon standing up, apparently experiencing some difficulty in realigning his body in a vertical position. ‘It is my very great pleasure,’ he said, ‘to become acquainted with those of whom I have heard so much. And may I say that your persons are even more impressive than I was led to believe. I am certain that once I have the opportunity to converse with all of you, I shall form an even higher opinion.’ He laughed, no doubt intending it to be charming but to Caroline he sounded somewhat like a donkey braying. ‘And may I,’ he continued, ‘assure you that my patroness, the Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, would be as equally delighted to meet you, if she were to deign to visit this part of the country.’
He blathered on, but at the name of Lady de Bourgh, Caroline and Louisa had exchanged a glance. How had this silly man the right to even mention the name of one of Mr Darcy’s relatives? Turning her back on the group, even though Mr Collins was still speaking, Caroline waved to the coachman to assist her to enter the carriage. Louisa quickly followed her, and so Charles had no choice but to bow to Jane and Mrs Bennet, and depart. As the carriage began to move, Caroline looked back, and saw Mr Collins once again bowing, no doubt saluting the Bingleys’ retreat.
‘What an odd little man,’ Louisa said, as a turn in the road removed Mr Collins from sight. ‘Have the Bennets no end of strange r
elatives?’
Caroline laughed. ‘Presumably not. But I did not think Mr Collins unduly strange. Risible, perhaps, but he was very polite.’
‘Too polite, if you ask me. There can be such a thing as too many compliments.’
‘What a strange thing to say.’ Caroline personally thought that she could never tire of compliments. Louisa looked surprised at her comment, so she laughed to show it was a joke. ‘Forgive me, it was a foolish jest. It is true, there are compliments and then there are compliments.’
Louisa laughed, too, to show she had known it was a joke. ‘I understand completely. I think that what you speak of is the difference between a true compliment, and flattery.’
‘That’s it exactly.’ Caroline leaned forward in her seat. ‘It’s as if you read my mind. A true lady is always conscious of when a compliment paid her is from the heart, deeply felt, or when it is given merely to curry favour.’
‘Yes. And Mr Collins, despite the outward show of good manners, wished to present himself in the best light, when meeting us.’
‘Although,’ Caroline said thoughtfully, ‘he is discerning, for he recognised us as people superior to himself and so worthy of his attentions.’
‘I don’t know how discerning he is. I suspect that the Bennets have spent much time speaking of us, telling him about our wealth.’
Caroline nodded. ‘No doubt they seek to portray themselves in greater light through association with us. How I detest subterfuge of any sort.’
‘I also.’ The sisters smiled at each other.
The carriage slowed and Caroline looked out to see the Lucas home.
‘Here we go again,’ she said. ‘Put your best smile on, Louisa, for we must once more become the happiest of all people when we issue these invitations.’
Louisa sighed. ‘Oh yes, I am transported by joy.’ She widened her eyes to appear tragic, and as they both laughed, they descended the carriage, filled with delight to see their dear friends, Sir William and his family.
Miss Bingley Requests Page 17