Miss Bingley Requests

  Byrnside inclined his head. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You can always rely on my discretion.’ He left her and continued down the corridor.

  She went back into her sitting room and sat down, resting her head in her hands. She had looked everywhere she could think of for that letter. Instead of the frustration making her wish to forget about the source of such annoyance, she was more determined than ever to find it.

  She sat up and squared her shoulders. She knew Charles would never burn or otherwise dispose of a letter from his friend. This meant that it had to be somewhere. And if it wasn’t in all the places she’d thought of, she would just have to look in the places that had not come to mind.

  Where did Charles spend his time? His club. If the letter was there, she had no hope of finding it, for women were not permitted to enter the building.

  Therefore, she must hope it was somewhere else.

  She knew the letter had become an obsession. Probably it contained nothing more than something relating to the male body that was thought, by men, to be too distressing for a female to know about. She felt powerless to do anything about this obsession, even though it was driving her to do things that were insane. Searching her brother’s rooms! She knew how incensed she’d be if anyone, even Louisa, were to search through her rooms. She’d feel hurt and betrayed. Violated. She had treated her brother, whom she loved with a strong sisterly affection, abominably. And yet, she could not stop searching.

  She’d been ignoring her friends, not returning calls, not receiving them either, even when she was at home. It was difficult to sit still, to speak of banalities, when her mind burned and twisted, desperate to know what the letter contained.

  Her need to know was understandable, surely. She would soon become engaged to Mr Darcy, she had a right to know what was happening in his life. It was beginning to affect her life in other ways. She wasn’t eating much. She couldn’t sit with the others over a meal and pretend that everything was fine, when every fibre of her being wanted to grab Charles by the shoulders and shake him until he gave her the letter. She had trays sent to her room, sometimes, but had little appetite. But just yesterday, Louisa had mentioned that Caroline looked peaked, and wondered if she should call a physician.

  She didn’t require a doctor. All she needed was to find the letter. But she’d searched every place she knew that Charles kept important papers.

  Two days after venturing into his bedroom, Caroline was sitting at the dining table. It was mid-afternoon, long past luncheon, and too early for tea to be served, and so the room was a quiet haven.

  A sheet of paper lay on the table. She’d already got a blot of ink on the white linen tablecloth, but she didn’t care. She was going through the house, in her mind, and methodically making a list of every place she hadn’t already looked that Charles could have used as a hiding place.

  She heard the door from the front hall into the dining room open, and looked up with annoyance, for there was no reason for a servant to be passing that way at this time of day. Instead, Charles and Louisa entered, both appearing most solemn. Caroline’s eyes were drawn to the pages clutched in Charles’ hand.

  Louisa and Charles sat across the table from her. For several moments, no one spoke. They both regarded her with affection, but Caroline was convinced she also saw pity in their eyes. Charles’ glance dropped to the table, and aware that he could read upside-down, Caroline snatched up her list.

  ‘I know what you are doing,’ Charles said.

  ‘It’s nothing.’ Caroline attempted a laugh. ‘Just a household list.’ She waved her page in the air, then crumpled it in her lap.

  ‘Louisa and I have spoken.’ Charles continued. ‘We are agreed upon this course of action, although it fills us with concern for you.’

  ‘What is there to be concerned about? And I have duties I must be about.’ Caroline leaned forward to stand up, but before she could complete the action, Charles raised a hand, and she stayed in her chair.

  ‘I told you,’ he said, his voice low and gentle, ‘that I could not share the contents of Darcy’s letter. I said this out of concern for your feelings.’

  He paused, as if waiting for her to argue. When she did not respond, he glanced at Louisa, took in a deep breath, and continued, ‘The matter, however, has gone too far. You are not eating, and probably not sleeping well either. And, you are going into parts of the house where you should not.’

  Caroline felt her cheeks grow red, and she held her breath to try to stop the blush. He knew! What must he think of her? Surely he was here now to discipline her in some way. What if he sent her to live alone at Netherfield? No one but the servants and people like the Bennets to speak to. No, that would be too cruel.

  But surely Louisa understood and would not support him. She waited for his next pronouncement. When it came, to her relief, his voice was mild.

  ‘Louisa and I are concerned for your health.’ They both gazed sadly at her. ‘We have decided to let you know the contents of Darcy’s letter. We both think that doing so will not make you happy; in fact it may well upset you greatly. We cannot go on watching you destroy your health and beauty in this manner.’

  Caroline let the aspersion he cast on her appearance pass her by. At last! She would learn the contents of the letter!

  ‘Did you hear me?’ Charles leaned forward. ‘You will, in all probability, be very much distressed by what you will learn.’

  Caroline hesitated, glanced at Louisa. Her sister nodded slowly, then said, ‘I agree. It would be best, Caroline, for you to put this matter entirely out of your head. The contents of the letter do not concern you, and I fear for you. Can you not simply forget this foolishness?’

  ‘You have read the letter?’ Caroline glared at Charles. ‘So you believe the contents fit for one sister and not the other? How dare you be so judgmental?’

  ‘Caroline, enough!’ Charles’ voice was sharp.

  ‘He only just showed it to me,’ Louisa said, holding out a hand imploringly. ‘He wanted to know if I thought it the only thing that would stop your physical decline.’

  ‘I want to read it.’ Caroline clasped both hands on the table, to stop their trembling. ‘Surely there is nothing that can be so terrible it needs to be hidden from me? Charles assured me that Mr Darcy and his sister are in good health. What else would upset me more than discovering that I, alone in this family, am not fit to learn what my intended has communicated?’

  ‘I am not so sure he does intend to marry you,’ Charles said heavily. ‘Has he ever said anything that would lead you to assume he did intend to propose? Has he, God forbid, done anything that a man who is nothing more than a family friend should have done?’

  ‘No, of course not. Mr Darcy is a perfect gentleman.’

  ‘Then what,’ Louisa asked, ‘makes you so certain he will ask you to marry him?’

  ‘It has long been understood,’ Caroline said impatiently, ‘that there are many advantages to linking our two families with bonds that are even stronger than the friendship we share. I know he feels the same.’ She reached out for the letter. ‘But why are we speaking of this? Give me the letter.’

  Charles laid the pages on the table and smoothed them carefully. ‘I think it best that you hear the words in my voice, instead of reading them in Darcy’s hand.’

  ‘What nonsense—’ Caroline began, but then Charles spoke again, and she fell silent.

  ‘Mr Darcy writes,’ he said, almost apologetically, ‘to tell me that he asked Miss Elizabeth Bennet for her hand in marriage.’

  A sudden rush of sound filled Caroline’s head. It surrounded her with the scent of salt, for it sounded like the vast ocean had, the one time she’d been to Brighton. ‘Miss Elizabeth Bennet?’ she said, as if she’d never pronounced such words before.

  ‘Asked,’ Charles continued, ‘and was refused.’

  Charles’ words made no sense. They passed over and through Caroline like the enormous waves at the shoreside.

  ‘The
only thing more,’ Charles continued, ‘about this subject is as follows.’ He cleared his throat, lifted the pages, and read,

  ‘In the normal state of affairs, I would not burden you with such a confidence, but the effect of what transpired has turned my disposition decidedly for the worse, and I cannot put the image of her, saying to me “if you’d behaved in a more gentlemanly fashion” out of my mind. It consumes me, and sadly my feelings for her are, as yet, unchanged.

  It is my hope that by unburdening myself, and in so doing asking you, my good friend, to share my pain, I will at last be able to, if not find peace, at least pass a few moments in which I do not think of her.’

  Charles let the pages fall to the table. Both he and Louisa looked across the table at Caroline, who was sitting very still.

  ‘I don’t see why you were at all concerned,’ Caroline said, pleased that her voice did not tremble. ‘He has asked her, fortunately for him she refused. Now that he has this, this … infatuation out of his head, he will naturally propose to me.’ She smiled at her brother and sister, as the ocean sound grew louder and louder in her head. Black grew from a single point in her vision, grew rapidly until it filled the room and the space inside her head, and she fainted.

  * * *

  When she awoke, she was lying on the settee in the larger drawing room. Something wet dripped down her face. It felt almost like tears, but surely there was no reason for her to cry and besides, tears were hot and this moisture was cool. She looked around, but everything was a blur. Then her sister’s face swam into focus, as she bent close over Caroline, and applied a damp cloth to her forehead.

  When Louisa saw her sister’s eyes were open, she lightly ran another, dry, cloth over Caroline’s face, cleaning away any dripping water, and then put it away. ‘There you are,’ Louisa said, trying to sound stern but her smile gave away her relief. ‘We told you that learning what was in Mr Darcy’s letter would only distress you. I hope this will teach you to listen to Charles.’

  Caroline pushed herself to a semi-recumbent position, and waited while a surge of dizziness rose in her head and then subsided. ‘I remember when Charles wore short pants, as do you. It is most difficult to take anything he says seriously when I have that image of him in my mind.’

  Louisa’s smile grew. ‘I agree, if one’s sisters remember a brother as a little boy running around with a mop of reddish curls and grass stains all over his clothing, it is difficult for him to gain respect from them. But Charles is a man, and so has a much greater understanding of the ways of the world. You would do well to remember he has only your best interests at heart.’

  Caroline sighed, and sat up all the way. ‘I know he does. But surely we women can also have a say in what is best for us?’

  ‘Perhaps there are times when that is true.’ Louisa paused, her eyes looking into a place far distant. She then stood, and busied herself clearing away the bowl of water and cloths. ‘This series of events does not support your argument. Charles was very worried that you might faint, and that is exactly what has occurred.’

  ‘Some women faint all the time. I am made of stronger stock than that.’

  Louisa studied her for a moment. ‘You are still very pale. But I must go and tell Charles that you have awoken. He will be much relieved.’

  Caroline attempted to sit up straighter, and when she succeeded, to rise to her feet, but at that her body rebelled. Her legs began to shake and she quickly sat back, resting her head on a cushion.

  Mr Darcy asked Eliza Bennett to be his wife. Caroline tried to make sense of this statement, these words strung together, but she couldn’t. And there was the other statement, one that made even less sense. She refused him. How was this possible? Perhaps Caroline was ill and her memory of what the letter had contained was a fever-driven hallucination.

  She did remember, though. Her fears of Eliza’s wiles had been well-founded, and the minx had somehow beguiled poor Mr Darcy. No doubt her refusal had brought him back to his senses, and to Caroline.

  But that made no sense either. If Eliza had wanted to entrap Mr Darcy, a wealthy and handsome man of considerable position in society, why then had she refused his proposal? Caroline’s head began to throb, and when her brother rushed into the room and knelt beside where she rested, she could barely lift it to smile at him.

  He took her hand. ‘Caroline, you look very ill indeed. You must go upstairs and lie down. I insist.’ He turned to Louisa. ‘Please fetch her maid. I will assist her up the stairs myself.’

  Caroline raised herself somewhat on the settee. ‘Charles, I am perfectly fine. I just need a few moments more to rest, and perhaps a cup of strong tea. There is no need for all this fuss.’

  He acted as if she had not said a thing, and wrapping his arm about her, helped her to her feet, through the hallway, and up the stairs, his body pressed to her side providing warmth as well as strength, until he delivered her to Genney, who stood just outside Caroline’s rooms. From there, Caroline was taken by Genney and Louisa into her bedchamber, where her gown was loosened and she was made to lie down.

  She felt dizzier than ever after the exertion of climbing the stairs, and thought to protest that she would have much better remained on the settee, but realised she didn’t have the energy to speak above a whisper. ‘Please,’ she said, so softly she feared she would not be heard, ‘bring me some tea.’

  Genney, after a glance at Louisa, left the room and returned a few minutes later bearing a tray with a cup and saucer, a pot of tea, and a plate of small dry biscuits.

  ‘I think it best,’ Louisa said, ‘if you remain here for the evening. If you eat the biscuits, we will consider then whether more food will be brought.’

  Caroline’s stomach rebelled at the thought of eating even a biscuit, but she held out her hands eagerly for the cup of tea Louisa poured for her.

  ‘I have put two sugars in,’ Louisa said sternly, ‘instead of your usual one, and there is plenty of cream, as well. I know this is not your usual preference, but these additions will do you good.’

  Caroline did not care. The aromatic scent of her favourite blend of Indian teas twined about her head and into her nostrils, that alone giving her the strength to sit up and hold the cup in hands that did not tremble. She took a sip of the liquid, hot enough to soothe the inside of her body as it flowed down through her. This gave her energy enough to smile at her sister. ‘Thank you, Louisa. This is just what I need.’

  Louisa looked worried. ‘I am glad, but I think I shall stay by your side, in case you are taken ill again.’

  ‘Please,’ Caroline said, after drinking half the cup. ‘I would prefer to be alone for a time. I think I shall sleep a while.’

  Louisa still appeared uneasy. ‘Very well, but I insist that you eat one biscuit before I go. And once I do, you can be assured I will check on you very often.’

  ‘You are a good sister.’ Caroline nibbled at a biscuit, managing to spill most of it as crumbs onto the lace doily that covered the tray without Louisa observing. ‘There,’ she said, when she’d finally washed the last dry morsel down with her second cup of tea. ‘As you see, I am perfectly well now, and there is no need for concern.’

  Louisa nodded, appearing somewhat less anxious, and she and Genney left the room. Caroline lay back with a sigh.

  * * *

  She did not rise from her bed that evening, and decided to rest the next day also. Although she scorned this weakness in herself, she could not find it in her to care overly much. Not enough to bestir herself, in any case. When he arrives, she thought, there will be plenty of time for me to arise. And he will come soon, for it has been some days since his letter arrived, and it is likely that it was some days after his foolish proposal before he felt ready to confide in Charles. Even now, he must be on his way, riding to town, to me.

  But the following day passed, and the one after, and still Caroline did not attempt to leave her bed. Louisa spent a lot of time with her, sitting and reading aloud, working on sewing.
When sewing, she asked frequently for advice from Caroline, showing her the embroidery, wondering aloud if she should use the light or darker green, or the silk thread or the cotton. Caroline knew Louisa thought this would get her interested enough in the work that she would wish to see her own hands busy with colour and texture. But Caroline had no interest in anything. She liked it best when Louisa read to her, for then she could ignore both tale and voice, and lose herself in her thoughts. He is coming. He is on the road, even now. Perhaps he enters the outskirts of the city at this very moment.

  He did not come. Caroline wondered if he had been delayed by some dire event at Pemberley, and began to inquire at first once a day, but soon several times, if any letters had arrived from the Darcys. The answer was always in the negative.

  ‘I can trust you, can I not?’ Caroline asked Louisa one day. ‘There can be none of this foolish thinking that I need to be protected. If a letter had arrived from Pemberley, you would tell me!’

  ‘I would never lie to you,’ Louisa said, ‘and I am offended that you would think such a thing.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Caroline sighed and turned her head back and forth on her pillow. How was it possible to feel so restless, and so weak, both at the same time? ‘You are being a good sister to me, and I repay you very ill.’

  ‘Nonsense.’ Louisa stood and did not look at Caroline. Instead, she wandered over to the window, and pulled the curtains back. ‘It is a lovely day out. Winter is long passed, and spring has taken hold. Would you not enjoy a short ride in the carriage? I know how you love to see the new tender leaves.’

  As far as she knew, Caroline had never given a single thought to leaves, tender or not, other than to dislike the way they cluttered the paths where she wished to walk in autumn. It was now spring, according to Louisa, and so the leaves were on the trees, where they belonged, and would not inconvenience her.

  She let Louisa’s comment pass her by, as she had ignored all attempts to draw her out of her room. Louisa had never reacted to this before, but today she left the window and came to stand by Caroline’s bed.