Miss Bingley Requests

  He sighed and looked meekly down. ‘Very well. Miss Bingley, I admire your beauty, of course, and am sure that could go without saying; your elegance and your many accomplishments. Your musical ability is without peer, your voice out-sings the lark, and your embroidery is exquisite. I very much admire the cushion you sewed for Eleanor, and indeed, if it is not too risqué to admit, it rests on my bed, for I appropriated it, and I hug it every night before I go to sleep.’

  As he had been speaking, he’d lifted his head to gaze directly into her eyes, and although the image of him, dressed for sleep, hugging the stitches she had made, one by one, brought a rush of warmth to her cheeks, she did not so much as blink, not wishing to look away even for the tiniest of moments.

  ‘I admire your fashion sense,’ he continued, ‘for you are always dressed in the very latest of styles, and sometimes it appears you have a role in determining what is to be most fashionable, for I swear I have seen you in styles that only later appear at court. Your smile bewitches me, the touch of your hand warms my very soul, the colour of your eyes is as clear as the most precious of gems, and the colour of your lips,’ and here he dropped his voice and moved so his mouth was only the slightest of whispers away from hers, ‘shows me that you must taste like the very sweetest of strawberries.’

  His breath tickled her lips, and almost without conscious effort, they parted. Time stopped then; she could feel the warmth of his skin, almost taste the softness of his lips, feel the roughness of the skin around them, for even though he was clean-shaven, he was one of those men whose beard grew more enthusiastically than that of others.

  With an effort, he pulled back and, somewhat aghast at how close she’d come to wanton behaviour, and yet disappointed at the same time, Caroline withdrew her hand from his and raised it to smooth her hair.

  ‘That is only seven,’ Eleanor said, but her voice sounded as if she was a cat speaking of cream.

  ‘It was ten,’ Mr Tryphon protested, laughing.

  ‘Well,’ Eleanor said, ‘I suppose if you count the three accomplishments you listed as separate items, but I would have thought such a ploy beneath you. I am certain you have gravely insulted Miss Bingley by finding such a paltry few items to praise.’

  ‘Even if you count the accomplishments as only one,’ he said, ‘and I do not agree that you should, for each is a marvel in of itself, my list is short only two.’

  ‘No, I shall not change my mind. You listed seven, for you said her beauty could go without saying, and so I assumed you did not include it in the list.’

  ‘But he did say it.’ Caroline laughed, wondering anew how she would survive away from these two friends.

  ‘Very well.’ Stephen turned back to Caroline. ‘Far be it from me to skimp on my compliments to you, dear Miss Bingley.’ He raised her hand to his mouth and, one at a time, kissed the tip of each finger. ‘I admire this finger, and this one, this one also, and last but not least, the smallest one of all.’ He lowered her hand to rest on his firm thigh and seemingly without noticing, he covered it with his own. ‘There!’ he said to Eleanor. ‘Now my list contains more than the ten you asked for.’

  Eleanor laughed and clapped her hands. ‘Very good, sirrah! I confess you have carried out my command very well.’ She waved at her footman and indicated that the first course should be brought.

  Her hand still on his leg, for he had not thought to release it, Caroline was aware of every tensing of his muscles as he shifted in his chair. She should pull her hand away, but did not want to deal with his embarrassment when he realised what he’d done. No gentleman would allow a lady to touch him in such an intimate manner, even though no one else could possibly tell, unless they were beneath the table. Mr Tryphon would be mortified, once he realised. While she waited to work out what to do, she put her other hand on her own leg, and marvelled anew at the difference between men and women. Her own was curved, the muscles softer and smoother. His muscles made the top of his thigh almost flat, and very hard compared to her own.

  Without conscious thought, she moved both thumbs in small circles, and then, suffused with her own mortification, froze, unable to so much as look over at him to see if he’d noticed. She knew her face was bright red, but fortunately at that moment the soup was served. He removed his hand from hers to reach for his serviette and she snatched hers away. Risking a quick peek at him, she was relieved to note that he appeared to be unaware anything unusual had occurred. Irrationally, she was suddenly annoyed that the physical contact had not affected him in the least, and she determined to ignore him for the rest of the meal. Smiling across the table at Eleanor, she said, ‘What a delicious soup!’

  Bidding her friends farewell at the end of the evening was more difficult than she’d expected, and she had to fight back sudden tears as she waited at the door for the carriage to be brought.

  Caroline could not help but think this was probably the last time she would experience the easy company of these friends. When she returned from Pemberley, she’d be engaged to be married, and could no longer spend time in this manner.

  Just before she took the footman’s hand to climb into the carriage, she turned back to look at her friends. They stood on the top step, and both lifted a hand to wave. She tried to smile at them, but was suddenly blinking back tears and she turned away and stepped blindly into the carriage. She lowered one hand to her thigh and felt again the firm warmth of Mr Tryphon’s muscle. Remembering all the times her fingers had rested lightly on his equally firm and warm forearm, she quickly covered her eyes with both hands and tried not to weep.

  Why was she behaving so foolishly? Soon her every dream would come true and she would be mistress of Pemberley. It was what she’d planned would happen ever since Charles first brought his new friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy, home to meet his family. She could not permit anything, not even love, to defeat her now.

  She drew a handkerchief out of her reticule and blew her nose, then sat up straight, making sure her posture was entirely correct. As the carriage moved down the street, she lifted her chin. She was Caroline Bingley, and her every move was elegant, every action entirely correct. Clinging to that thought, she returned to Grosvenor Street, ready to leave the next day for Pemberley and her future.

  * * *

  While the gentlemen often made the trip between Derbyshire and town relatively quickly compared to travelling in a carriage, they had determined to break the journey so as to not overly fatigue the ladies. When they stopped at an inn for luncheon, a letter was delivered to Mr Darcy. After a quick glance at it, he announced he would ride on ahead, for there were some matters he needed to discuss with his steward.

  ‘There is no need for concern,’ he added. ‘I merely wish to get this business taken care of, so that when we are all together again my time and attention will be available to you, my guests.’

  While Caroline was sorry to lose his company during the long journey, she suspected that the reason he wished to have no distractions while she was at Pemberley was so he could give her all the attentions a man pressing his suit could offer. And yet, as he bade them farewell, she wondered why she did not feel more pleasant anticipation at the thought she’d see him again at Pemberley.

  The rest of the journey passed pleasantly enough. Louisa was in surprisingly good humour, and Georgiana chattered about the places the carriage passed. Charles preferred to ride his horse, even at the carriage’s slower pace, but he sometimes sat with the ladies and Mr Hurst for a change, as he put it, in the scenery.

  The inn they stopped at for the night was sufficiently clean and surprisingly comfortable. Georgiana grew quiet as the journey neared its end, and Caroline feared the travel had been too much for the girl, but she perked up and became animated as the carriage turned on to the long gravel drive that led to her home. ‘I do so love it here,’ she said. ‘Especially when all my favourite people in the world are gathered together.’

  Caroline smiled. Perhaps there was hope after all for Charles and Georgiana.
She took the girl’s hand. ‘The bonds between our two families will only grow stronger as time progresses.’

  ‘I do hope so,’ Georgiana said and then turned to the window as the gracious house, so perfectly situated by the lake, came into view.

  Once they had arrived, and the organised chaos of luggage being carried in and everyone being shown to their rooms was past, the party gathered in one of the afternoon drawing rooms. ‘I trust, Darcy,’ said Charles, taking his favourite chair by the fireplace, ‘you have completed your business and so can join us as we strive mightily to be as idle as possible.’

  ‘I shall do my utmost to please you,’ Mr Darcy said.

  Something in his tone of voice caught Caroline’s attention, and she examined him for the first time since her arrival. He was smiling, and looked quite at ease as he settled himself into the wingchair on the other side of the fireplace from Charles. He often smiled, she thought, and was never so relaxed as when he was here, at Pemberley, but there was something more. Something she couldn’t put her finger on. His smile was perhaps a trifle wider, his countenance showing a joy that went beyond his usual pleasures, but surely he was simply happy that his guests had arrived in good time and safely. His gaze became unfocused for a moment, as if he was thinking of something else, and his smile became a grin.

  He was almost … glowing! He reminded her of nothing so much as a man in love. Her breath caught suddenly in her throat, and she had to reach for the cup of tea a servant had just handed her, to prevent a cough. This could mean only one thing. He was definitely going to propose.

  ‘You look like a cat,’ Charles said, ‘who has just been given a pint of cream.’

  Apparently, Caroline thought, I am not the only person to notice the change in Mr Darcy.

  ‘Your business,’ Charles continued, ‘must have gone exceedingly well.’

  Darcy blinked, as if he’d only just realised Charles was speaking to him. ‘It did indeed. And upon my return, I discovered a friend of ours is in the area, staying no further away than the inn at Lambton.’ He looked about at everyone. Did his eye rest longer on Caroline than on anyone else? She was not sure.

  Mr Darcy stood up, as if filled with such an energy he could no longer stay still. ‘Can you guess who it might be?’ He paused, and Caroline was amazed to see his playful air. ‘No? I shall tell, you, then. Miss Elizabeth Bennet! She is visiting the county with her aunt and uncle.’

  Caroline felt as if he had thrown a bucket of cold water over her person. She looked over to Louisa, and saw the same horror reflected in her sister’s eyes. ‘Miss Eliza Bennet?’ she asked slowly. ‘Here in Derbyshire?’

  Mr Darcy had now locked eyes with Charles, and it appeared a silent communication passed between them. It was interrupted only when Georgiana leapt up from the settee on which she’d been perched.

  ‘Would it be too much for me to ask if I might seek an introduction? I very much would like to meet her.’

  Mr Darcy turned to his sister, smiling. ‘I well know it, and yes, I have arranged that we shall see them at their inn tomorrow.’

  Georgiana clasped her hands together. ‘Must we wait so long? I feel perfectly recovered from our journey, and I know I shall not sleep at all tonight if I must wait.’

  Mr Darcy appeared delighted by Georgiana’s enthusiasm, even as the unfolding scene filled Caroline’s heart with ice.

  ‘I see,’ he said, ‘I must take you immediately, for I would not wish to cause you ill health due to lack of rest.’

  Georgiana beamed, but things became worse for Caroline, for now her brother spoke up. ‘I would like to accompany you, also. It would be a great pleasure to be reacquainted with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Although,’ and his face fell, ‘while an introduction to Miss Darcy can be nothing but pleasant for all, do you think Miss Elizabeth will wish to renew our acquaintance?’

  ‘I am certain of it.’ Mr Darcy clapped his friend on the shoulder. ‘But if you have doubts, you can remain in another room and I will ask her.’

  Chattering excitedly, the three left the room to call for the carriage. Mr Hurst had stayed in his room to rest, and so Caroline and Louisa were left alone.

  ‘It appears,’ Louisa said dryly, ‘Mr Darcy did not wish us to accompany them on this visit.’

  ‘Would you have wanted to go?’ Caroline asked in surprise. ‘I assumed Mr Darcy did not ask us if we wished to go because he already knew what our response would be.’

  ‘I confess to a touch of curiosity,’ Louisa said. ‘I wish to ascertain if she is regretting her refusal of Mr Darcy’s proposal, and so has come here in order to try to entice him again.’

  ‘Judging from his apparent joy at introducing his sister, and the fact he has spent no more than a few minutes with us, his guests, before rushing off to see her, I would say her plan is working.’ Caroline fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. Here she was inside Pemberley, the house she’d thought to oversee as mistress, and once again a Bennet was interfering with her plans. There was no sense in giving in to despair. She would simply have to speak to Mr Darcy, to make her expectations clear. Surely, if she spoke with logic and reminded him of all the disadvantages such a match would entail, disadvantages he had pointed out when Charles had been in danger of succumbing to Jane’s wiles, he would remember who he was and what was important.

  ‘I know that look,’ Louisa said, and Caroline lifted her head to find her sister observing her closely. ‘What are you planning to do?’

  ‘Whatever can you mean?’ Caroline asked, innocently.

  ‘I know you are plotting something. And when I see that expression on your countenance, I am never sure if I should feel excited or appalled.’

  Caroline opened her eyes wide, attempting to appear as innocent as a little kitten. She could only maintain the expression for a few moments before her eyes began to hurt, and so she sighed and said, ‘I never can hide anything from you. But I am planning to do nothing more than speak to Mr Darcy, to see if I can discover his intentions.’

  Louisa’s eyes opened wide, but her expression, one of fright, appeared genuine. ‘Caroline! You cannot tell him you know of his proposal to Elizabeth, for that would betray your brother. Charles should never have permitted you to see that letter.’

  ‘He showed it to you.’

  ‘Yes. There was no harm in showing it to me, however, since I would never say anything about it to anyone, and I most definitely would not tell Mr Darcy I saw it. Caroline, you know how greatly Charles values their friendship. You must not do anything to jeopardise it.’

  Caroline sighed. ‘I am insulted you could think such a thing of me. I had not the slightest intention of saying anything about his foolish proposal.’

  Louisa began to apologise, but Caroline swept on. ‘I am far cleverer than you appear to think. I know how to seek information from a gentleman in such a way that he will not realise our conversation was anything other than the usual discourse of people such as ourselves in society.’

  ‘Of course you do,’ Louisa said, her hands folded in her lap, ‘and I am sorry I suggested otherwise.’

  The sisters stood to leave the room. Oh dear, Caroline thought. Now what am I going to do?

  * * *

  When the moment for a private conversation with Mr Darcy presented itself, Caroline still had not the slightest idea of what she would say. She trusted her good sense to see her through what she knew would be a most painful discussion.

  Mr Darcy, Charles, and Georgiana had returned to Pemberley, and all three appeared quite satisfied with their visit. Indeed, Georgiana could speak of nothing but Miss Elizabeth, her beauty, her warm smile, the kindness in her eyes. Even Charles appeared more animated than he had for some time, retelling a humorous story Miss Elizabeth had passed on about something Sir William Lucas had said. Caroline ate mechanically, uncaring of what she put into her mouth, and kept what she hoped was a polite smile, and not an ugly grimace, on her face.

  Mr Darcy excused himself after the
meal, saying he wished to check on the progress of his gardeners as they replanted a section of land by the stream. As the others began an animated conversation about the merits of Charles’ favourite hunting dogs, Caroline slipped out of the room. Pausing only to send a maid for her blue shawl, she ventured outside and soon found Mr Darcy standing on a little rise that overlooked the lake.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she approached him. ‘It appears, Mr Darcy, the meeting of your sister with Miss Eliza went exceedingly well. Georgiana seems to have fallen madly in love with Miss Bennet. But what of your impressions? Are those famous eyes still as fine as ever?’

  He turned to regard her, and she thought she saw disapproval in his eyes, so she hurried on. ‘I do hope you are not going to invite her to Pemberley. I suspect that if she came here, she would be adding up the cost of every single thing she sees, just like that odious little cousin of hers did in talking about Rosings. What was his name? Collins! Yes that’s it, Collins.’

  He looked at her for a moment longer, and then said stiffly, ‘As a matter of fact, Miss Darcy invited Miss Elizabeth, and her aunt and uncle, to dine with us. I also expect the ladies to make a call here, to see yourself, Louisa and my sister, in the near future.’

  He squared his shoulders and set his jaw, and fearing that he was about walk away, Caroline had a sudden inspiration. Perhaps she was going about this the wrong way. He did not appear to like it when she insulted Eliza, and so perhaps she should take another tack. ‘Good,’ she said, heartily. ‘I shall look forward to seeing her. Doing so will bring me many fond recollections of our time in Hertfordshire, and of her dear sister Jane.’ There, she thought. He shall see that I can be gracious to all classes of people, and so will not be concerned about how I might treat his tenants. And, by mentioning Jane, I have reminded him of his opposition to Charles’ infatuation.

  He tipped his head slightly to the left, his eyes still studying her, but she thought now that they appeared a trifle warmer than before. ‘I am glad to hear you say that,’ he said, and there was a touch of thaw in his voice. ‘I am fond of Miss Elizabeth and would not like to think that one of my guests would be rude to her while staying in my home.’