by Huw Thomas
In Caroline’s imagination, she saw them growing as close as sisters; so close that they would not think twice about sharing such things as lady’s maids, wardrobes or dressing tables.
Despite her desire for friendship, however, there were still matters that should remain private. A new home must be found for a treasure whose importance exceeded even that of the atlas that had been Mr Bingley’s final gift.
This prized possession was the brace of pistols that Mr Hurst had presented to her in the aftermath of the event that still made her shiver with fearful delight.
She went to her room and opened the drawer of her dressing table. Within, the polished rosewood case rested in its hiding place. She opened the box to handle each pistol in turn, cocking and then gently releasing each of them, enjoying the precise, well-oiled working of the mechanisms.
Unlike Louisa (who had been supplied with similar firearms but who valued them not at all) Caroline delighted in these weapons and worked hard to improve her marksmanship. As a female, she was not permitted to use Manton’s shooting range and so her only opportunities for practice came during visits to Pemberley, where she could take advantage of the space and seclusion afforded by the Darcy family's demesne.
Truth be told, the prospect of being able to shoot as often as she wished in the country went some way to make up for the loss of Cavendish Square, which now seemed very likely when Charles eventually settled upon his ideal rural estate.
After a while she put the pistols back in their case and then hid all in the space beneath her closet, where she would be able to reach it quickly if needed while concealing it from curious eyes.
With her own preparations thus completed, she went in search of Mrs Rice to inform her that they would probably be enjoying the company of a young lady who should be placed in the room nearest Caroline’s own.
*
Caroline was very glad when her expectation of an extra guest proved correct. Charles sent word to Grosvenor Street, requesting the pleasure of the company of the Hursts (Caroline wondered if she would ever get used to thinking of her sister as ‘Mrs Hurst’ instead of ‘Miss Louisa Bingley’) that evening, in honour of the new arrival.
Miss Darcy’s discomfort on hearing that she risked being the centre of attention appeared to be very great indeed, for she blushed and fidgeted and declared (in a voice so quiet as to be almost inaudible) that there was no need for any fuss. Charles replied that this was nonsense, and that he had invited only those whom he felt certain would be delighted to make her better acquaintance.
Any dinner at which Mr Hurst was present was bound to be a jovial affair, and Miss Darcy gave every appearance of enduring this one as bravely as she could — but soon afterward murmured that she was most weary after her journey and wished therefore to retire. All were sympathetic and Caroline joined in their expressions of hope for Miss Darcy’s revival on the morrow; and so the young lady withdrew.
The three gentlemen and the two young ladies now removed themselves to the privacy of the drawing room, where Mr Hurst listened with great attention as Charles and Mr Darcy recounted something of their recent escapades. Their story was broken and confused, so that Caroline felt certain she was hearing only a small part of it, but it seemed that Mr Wickham, for whom they had all been watching out for so long, had at last made a move — against Miss Darcy, rather than any of those who had supposed themselves his natural targets.
Darcy was also of the opinion that Mr Wickham was in some financial distress, and that he could soon be expected to devise some fortune-seeking scheme, if indeed such a thing were not already in motion.
“I confess that lately I have not been scouring the newspapers with my usual diligence,” Mr Hurst said.
“Nor have I,” Mr Darcy said, “and after my journey to Ramsgate the subject is even more distasteful to me than previously — though I do not claim that as any excuse.”
Charles also confirmed his lack of attention to this task, saying, “I have selfishly preferred to follow announcements of country estates, than to search for news of Mr Wickham.”
Caroline restricted her own response to a rueful shake of the head: she had not so much as opened a newspaper for many months but did not care to admit it before the others.
“This is a fault that we must all correct,” Mr Hurst said. “Mr Wickham boarded the coach for London and there is every possibility that he will be in communication with vampyres while he is here.”
“How would that manifest itself?” Charles asked.
“There may be attacks, disappearances, or other strange incidents. We must pay attention both to our journals and to the streets. It seems but a small probability, I know, but one or another of us may even happen upon him by chance.”
*
Caroline was unable to ascertain why the establishment at which Miss Darcy had been residing was suddenly deemed unsuitable, but it was so. Instead of returning, the young lady remained at Cavendish Square for some weeks. Caroline did her best to be kind and friendly, and had the impression that she and Miss Darcy were growing closer, but there was the ever-present shyness and reserve on the other’s part that prevented any true intimacy.
Even if such intimacy had developed, it would not have allowed Caroline to offer much assistance to her friend, for Lady Catherine de Bourgh stepped in to take charge of every preparation for her niece’s presentation at court. Even though her own daughter was too poorly to accompany her, Lady Catherine stayed for a full se’nnight and met personally with the Lord Chamberlain as well as dressmakers, florists &c, and dealt with every needful arrangement.
On the day itself she acted as Miss Darcy’s sponsor and then gave the glittering coming-out ball that followed in the evening. Caroline found the dowager to be rather intimidating, to put it nicely. With her imperious manners and icily-proper behaviour, she was a daunting prospect for any young lady, though there was no denying the exacting generosity she showed to her young charge.
After Lady Catherine had gone back to Kent, Caroline thought that the Darcys might also leave for Pemberley, but Mr Darcy declared that he considered Cavendish Square to be the safer haven for his sister as long as Mr Wickham, and the creature he served, were still at large.
The efforts to find news of Mr Wickham were thus redoubled — and Charles lamented that he no longer had time to visit every estate that caught his eye, so that a backlog of house descriptions, maps and drawings accumulated in the leather binding he used for such business.
*
It was on a September evening when Caroline and the others were gathered in the drawing room at Cavendish Square after an afternoon out in Hyde Park, where all had enjoyed the late summer sunshine. This had been followed by an excellent dinner.
Miss Darcy, as was still sometimes the case, had excused herself and retired to her chamber.
“Mr Bingley,” said Mr Hurst, “Since we have spent the whole day at leisure, we have fallen behind on our customary tasks. Do you happen to have copies of The Times, The Gazette, and so on to hand?”
Charles replied that he did, and sent for every recent journal to be brought to them, and so the company spent the next hour poring over the announcements and small news items in the hope that some hint of vampyre activity might be deduced.
Caroline turned the pages diligently but discovered nothing at all, and after a while she began to wish that she had followed Miss Darcy’s example in retiring early. On reflection, though, she realised that the sense of exclusion that would have caused would have been even more disagreeable, and she began to pay closer attention.
A moment later, Mr Hurst, who had been hunting through the military announcements in The Gazette, read out the following notice: “‘Mr George Wickham, lately commissioned in the ——shire Militia presently quartered at Meryton in Hertfordshire.’” He set his newspaper and eye glasses aside and declared in a tone of deep satisfaction: “Unless I am sadly mistaken, this is our man.”
Mr Darcy looked up from the page
he had been perusing. “I rather suspect it is some unknown militia officer who happens to be a namesake.”
“Every instinct confirms my first conclusion,” Mr Hurst said. “Why do you doubt it?”
“The profession of a soldier is an honourable one, and liable to expose a man to danger as well as to discipline. Mr Wickham is inimical to all of these.”
“George Wickham is by no means a common name,” Mr Hurst persisted, “and we understand him to be changeable in his character of late — and also in urgent need of a livelihood. It cannot be denied that my hypothesis fits the facts.”
Mr Darcy sighed. “Perhaps you are right. I resisted the idea because it pains me that this disreputable man should besmirch an honourable calling. I cannot believe that Mr Wickham will restrict himself to a respectable military life.”
“Whether he does or not,” Mr Hurst said, “there is no remedy for it. If we are to deal with this matter, we must go into Hertfordshire and seek him out.”
“Did you not recently receive details of two or three estates in that county?” Caroline asked her brother.
“At least that many,” Charles said, “but my recollection is that none were suitable.” He brought out the binder where he kept all papers relating to country houses, and began to consult its contents. “No … no … that drawing room would hardly suffice … and the attics here appear to be most unsatisfactory …” He removed one particular sheet and perused it. “Now, this is a property that I thought might serve, and quite close to Meryton as it happens … but no, there would hardly be enough shooting on the land …”
“No estate can ever be ideal,” Mr Darcy said, “particularly one in Hertfordshire. Still, were you not saying just the other day, Bingley, that you wished to settle within easy reach of London but also on the road to Derbyshire?”
Charles confirmed that was indeed his desire.
“Well, Hertfordshire serves that purpose, at least, although you might find the society lacking. What is the name of this estate that caught your eye?”
“It is called Netherfield.”
“And how far from Meryton is it?”
“Not more than a few miles,” Charles replied.
“Then I regret to say that you should view it.”
Mr Hurst added the weight of his own opinion to Mr Darcy’s. “Of course you should. It appears to offer the perfect vantage point from which to keep watch on Mr Wickham, and thus to find the vampyre he serves.”
“Very well, very well, I shall inspect Netherfield at the earliest opportunity,” Charles said. “And since it seems so well-suited to our purposes, I dare say I shall engage myself to take the lease, unless I discover some very strong reason for objection.”
And so after this brief discussion it was agreed: to Hertfordshire, therefore, they were to go.
End of Book I
Further Information
twitter.com/SuckerForAusten
If you have enjoyed this book, please consider sharing an online review. The vampyres hate that.
Also by Huw Thomas
Exploring Pride and Prejudice: A Journey through the 1995 TV Series Starring Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle
An enhanced edition of Pride and Prejudice aimed at lovers of the 1995 BBC TV Series, adapted by Andrew Davies. This edition comprises a linked treatment exploring the TV series and its characters, showing how the drama relates to Jane Austen’s original novel. The ebook is packed with illustrative quotes and provides hyperlinked jumping-off points for exploring the original novel, which is also included in full.
Better than Real (Science Fiction)
Lee is an up-and-coming designer of seductive love dolls, until the day his sexiest creation yet goes murderously wrong. Sent to the crime scene to defuse a delicate situation, Lee finds that the rogue doll has been infiltrated by a mysterious, self-aware entity called Lilith who can’t seem to make her mind up whether she’s a silky-smooth seductress or a state-of-the-art assassination system. Within hours, Lee’s encounter with Lilith has escalated into a life-or-death race with her creators, the shadowy and relentless Elect, and ultimately into a battle for the very stuff of his humanity - a battle in which his best hope of salvation turns out not to be human at all.
The Raw Meat Cat Food Cookbook (Nonfiction)
Most modern cats are addicted to a substance that can eventually destroy every major organ of the feline body: grain-dominant cat food. This addiction can adversely affect blood sugar, urine pH, adrenal stability, digestive function, and tooth, gum and joint health, and can be a major contributor to spiraling vet bills. For six-plus decades, commercial grain-based cat food has been pushed upon the public for one main reason: corporate profit. Regrettably, it isn’t just cats who are addicted; advertising has brainwashed humans into believing that feeding our obligate carnivore companions a meat-flavored, grain-based diet is the best way to show how much we care. The authors of this brief, straight-to-the-point cookbook wanted to break free of this addiction and spend as many years as they could with their beloved housemates — quality time — not time spent watching them decline from commercial cat food. Now, with this step-by-step illustrated guide, you and your cat can break free, too.
Other Period Fiction from Velluminous Press
Robin Hood Untold: Book One
by Thomas Heo
The ultimate Anglo-Saxon anti-hero is well-trodden ground, though every iteration of the legend over the past nine centuries appears to lack two things: a Robin who could have been real and a Robin with real motive.
Traditionally, Robin is a trickster figure in the mould of Loki, Puck, Coyote, Brer Rabbit, and Renart the Fox, tailored over centuries from the great wellspring of Anglo-Saxon culture and legend. This archetypal aspect lends itself naturally to fables and fairy tales, but is also a narrative backbone on which to hang a cohesive epic tale featuring a Robin & Co beyond forest hijinks, with often less-than heroic traits and tactics, and who exist not only to defend Anglo-Saxon cultural heritage against foreign invaders but to reclaim at any cost the birthright that was stolen from them as free men.
Consider Robin and Marian as a binary star system; in Robin Hood Untold, the planets orbiting those stars are finally given a chance to shine: Frère Tuck, Will Scarlet, Alun Odell, Barbara Silver, Much Millerson, The Shire Reeve of Nottingham and his useful idiot, Gisbourne — essentially, ‘the untold’ in Robin Hood Untold.
Exclusive Ebook License
Copyright ©2016 Huw Thomas. All Rights Reserved.
This ebook is provided for the exclusive use of the purchaser or licensee.
Huw Thomas and Velluminous Press have published this ebook without any DRM (digital rights management) because we respect your rights to enjoy the ebooks you have purchased, today and in the future. Please respect our rights too, by ensuring that the copy you are reading is properly licensed:
If you have obtained an unlicensed copy of this ebook and wish to read it, you must buy a license.
If you wish to give a copy of this ebook as a gift to someone else, you must buy them a license.