by Leenie Brown
“I am certain I will be well,” Caroline insisted with a tight smile. Louisa’s continued prattling seemed to have everyone’s attention.
“If all is ready, a lie down would not be a horrid thing.”
Caroline exhaled her frustration softly. “If you would allow me to sit and perhaps bring me a cup of tea,” she suggested.
“Oh, my, yes! That will be just the thing.”
Thankfully, her sister rushed away to fetch Caroline some tea.
“Are you unwell?”
For the second time in less than half an hour, Caroline’s hand flew to her heart, and she jumped at the low rumble of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s voice so close to her ear. “You must stop startling me,” she scolded.
“Must I?” he replied with an impish grin.
“Yes, you must.” Her heart did enough fluttering and skipping when he was near her. There was no need to increase its rhythm by creeping up behind her. Did he always walk so softly?
“I make no promises.”
As he moved past her, his hand brushed her arm, sending a skittering shiver up it. Frustrating, frustrating man! She was supposed to be furious with him, not wishing to have him near. January and the season could not come fast enough!
“You are not seated,” Louisa, who once again stood before Caroline, this time with a cup of tea in her hands, chided. “You are still looking flushed. Perhaps it would be best if you were to lie down.”
“I do not wish to lie down.” Caroline took the tea from her sister and made her way to a chair with the hopes that in doing so, she could divert her sister’s attention from her flushed face.
“Richard reports that we are at our ease. Is that correct, Caroline? Is there nothing left that requires our attention?”
Goodness! She should have retired to her room. Did Charles actually expect Colonel Fitzwilliam to tell him a lie? Or — she took a calming sip of tea — did her brother not expect her to tell the colonel the truth? Did everyone find her offensive? “That is correct unless you remember something that I have forgotten.”
“Charles?” Louisa laughed. “He knows little of what it takes to prepare a home for a holiday and visitors.”
“I am not without sense,” Charles retorted.
Oh, good heavens! Her own siblings were no better than the Bennets at times! “Must we argue? It has been a trying day. Some quiet activity would be nice.”
“Are you sure you do not wish to go lie down?” Louisa asked once again.
“No!” Caroline snapped. “I do not wish to go lie down. I wish to sit here and enjoy the roar of the Yule log if you will stop your nattering and find an activity which will allow me to do so. Arguing is not that activity! Everything that needs to be done is done. Please find something to do that will add to the ambiance of what we have created instead of detracting from it.”
Caroline closed her eyes and drew and released a slow breath. Oh, she must look like an utter hag to her guests! She had spoken ill of Miss Elizabeth in the carriage in front of Miss Darcy, then argued her situation in life with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and now, after having been reprimanded for her behavior in the carriage, she was bellowing like a fishwife in the drawing room on the day before Christmas.
“The card tables could be set out,” Georgiana suggested.
“An excellent idea,” Bingley agreed and proceeded to act on it.
“I could read to you if you do not wish to play. That way you could close your eyes and relax.”
Tea sloshed out of Caroline’s cup when she jumped. “You must stop startling me.”
“I apologize. I swear it was unintentional.”
Caroline raised a skeptical brow.
“I swear,” Richard replied, placing his hand over his heart.
Caroline shook her head and rolled her eyes. It was difficult to remain properly put-out with such a charming man. “I do not wish to play,” she admitted.
“Shall I find us a book then?”
“I do not wish to take you from the game.”
“I have no desire to play. In fact, after having spent a great deal of time shopping, followed by a half hour with Mrs. Bennet and Wickham, I think reading would be a very good distraction to smooth the hackles before having to endure one of those things over dinner.”
Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “Did you not just lecture me about my attitude regarding the Bennets?”
Richard smiled sheepishly. “I did, but that was in reference to treating them with the respect a relation deserves.”
“Pray explain yourself further.” She took a sip of her tea while skewering him with a challenging look.
“I was not disparaging,” he said as he drew a chair closer to hers. “I was merely admitting that there are relations that are at times more challenging to bear than others. For instance, my aunt Catherine is insufferable in her prattling on and on about inane things and her demands for everything to be completed to her specifications because no one else can be trusted to do things properly. I have often allowed myself to express my frustration about her to Darcy, but I would never say the same in front of her daughter, for Anne would be crushed to hear her mother spoken of in such a fashion. You, on the other hand, allowed your frustration to be aired in front of Georgiana, and it was hurtful.”
“I see very little difference.” Caroline lifted her chin and looked down her nose at him. His quiet reprimand of it was hurtful stung more than all his previous admonitions. “If it is wrong to speak ill of relations, then it is wrong to speak ill of relations.” Her cheeks grew warm as he studied her face most intently.
“Perhaps you are correct,” he said finally. “I will attempt to mend my ways.”
She blinked. She was correct? She had not meant to be correct. She had only been attempting to challenge him with the hope of making him admit that her own actions had not been so grievously in error. Oh, he was frustrating! Now, that she had declared her actions as well as his own to be in error, she would also have to mend her ways. “I might need to lie down,” she muttered.
Richard chuckled. “Shall I tell Louisa she was correct?”
Caroline glared at him through narrowed eyes. “Just read,” she said.
And he did.
Chapter 5
Caroline survived, with great aplomb, the remainder of the afternoon as well as the dinner with the Bennets and Gardiners and even the festivities of Christmas morning. However, by the time the sun was slipping beyond the horizon on Christmas Day, her resolve to remain above reproach in the colonel’s eyes was beginning to wane, and she went in search of solitude. Charles, Darcy, and Georgiana had gone to Longbourn. Louisa and Hurst were busy with their pursuits. Louisa was attempting to learn the fingering of a new piece of music which Hurst had given her, while her husband perused a book with a decanter of port at his side.
Caroline stood outside the library door, debating whether she should enter and find a book or retire to her room and review her fashion magazines. There was also her dress for Twelfth Night that needed a few more embellishments, but it did not seem right to take up such an ordinary task on a day like today. A book. She should see if there was a book in the library that would satisfy her need for something out of the ordinary.
The decision made, she entered with the full intention of being the solitary occupant of the room. She would sit near the hearth and read in silence. Her spirit would be restored and when her brother returned from Longbourn with praise for his betrothed — for he had made that official last evening — and quite likely her whole family, she would be able to bear it with only the smallest twinge of jealousy and displeasure. Pulling a copy of Evelina from the shelf, she made her way to the hearth and curled into a chair, making herself quite comfortable.
Richard watched her enter, claim her book, and tuck herself away. He had never before seen her remove her shoes and tuck her feet up under her. She had always been the picture of proper posture and carriage. Here, as he witnessed her in such an intimate setting and relaxed pose, he
considered her appearance, not as a fashionable lady, but simply as a woman. She was not all that much older than Georgiana, and like Georgiana, she had been left without a mother or father. However, Caroline had been left in the care of a sister and brother, who were only two or three years her elder, not a gentleman many years her senior who could guide her from a place of greater experience. Yet, when he thought of Bingley’s house, it was Caroline who came to mind as the person assuring that all was running as it should be. Perhaps her character had not been given the attention it wanted, but her abilities to carry herself through life as a capable mistress of a home were admirable.
He carefully shifted position so that he would not draw her attention. Laying his book aside, he resumed his consideration of his companion. He attempted to recall how he had seen her at her brother’s home. There were a few times he had heard her speak crossly to a maid, but for the most part, she was civil and polite with those in positions of service to her. It was a fact that stood in stark contrast to how she spoke of those whom she considered inferiors in society.
He sighed as the reason for the disparity became clear to him. Caroline no doubt felt secure in her position with her maids. She was the mistress. There was no need to prove herself as such. But with her peers or near peers, she lacked confidence, and that was where the truth lay. A smile tipped the right corner of his mouth into a half smile. Caroline, who carried herself with such assurance and shared her opinions and ideas as if they were beyond reproach, lacked boldness within herself.
He turned his attention back to his discarded book, but his mind did not wish to give up its consideration of Caroline Bingley. Instead, it wanted to taunt him with a reminder of how pretty she was and how gracefully she moved. He indulged the thoughts for a moment, pausing to remember how her green eyes had registered her surprise at his words about her as they parted ways in the dining room. She had faltered in her steps, and there had been a brief moment of something…he tapped his finger on his book…something in her eyes when he had declared her accomplished and not needing to belittle others to make herself look better. What was it? Had she been startled? He shook his head. No, her eyes had not grown wide. Was it curiosity that shone in them? Again, he shook his head. Her brows had not drawn together. In fact, her expression had relaxed. Wistful! That is what it was. It had been longing, but a longing for what? For acceptance?
He shifted again. This time, however, the chair squeaked, drawing her attention. “Forgive me,” he said, keeping his tone soft to match the peaceful atmosphere of the room. “I did not mean to startle you, nor did I wish to take you from your repose. Please, stay as you were,” he added as she began to straighten herself. “You look at ease. It is rather charming.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Are you certain? It is not at all how a lady should sit.”
“It is precisely how she should sit in her own home when she is enjoying a book in solitude.” He grinned. “Even if her solitude is encroached upon by an interloper. I’ll not tell,” he added with a wink.
His words and tone were so warm that Caroline couldn’t help but smile as she returned to her comfortable position and turned her eyes back to her book. However, her eyes would not stay on the page. They kept wandering to the gentleman across the room. He was not so tall, handsome, or rich as his cousin, but there was something about him that was rather compelling. She sighed. If only he were an acceptable choice, but he was not. She wanted what Evelina would achieve. A husband with an estate who was good and kind, gentle and attentive, and behaved as was fitting his rank. Oh, a title such as Lord Orville possessed would make a gentleman even more desirous as a husband, to be sure. However, one of her lot in life must not attempt to reach so high. It was only heroines of novels such as Evelina who could hope to rise above their circumstances to such a degree. Still, Caroline thought as she glanced once more at Colonel Fitzwilliam, a lady could hope and dream.
For three-quarters of an hour, Caroline applied herself with diligence to her book while casting an occasional look in the colonel’s direction. He was not flipping pages very quickly. His reading yesterday was well done, so it could not be because he found the task difficult. Perhaps it was just not a very entertaining book.
However, it was neither Richard’s reading ability nor the story he was reading which kept Richard from progressing through his book. Robinson Crusoe had been entertaining enough to hold Richard’s attention the two previous times he had read it, but this time it was a trifle difficult to occupy his mind with thoughts of seeking shelter and food on a deserted island when there was a pretty lady whom he was attempting to decipher sitting so near him. Finally, he snapped his book close and rose to leave just as Caroline was beginning to yawn.
“Your sister would suggest you go lie down if she saw you,” he teased.
Caroline shook her head as she covered yet another yawn. “I do not need to lie down,” she replied with a smile. “However, I do think I would like to lie down.”
Richard chuckled and crossed to where she was sitting. “Allow me to see you to your room in safety.”
Caroline slipped her feet into her slippers and placed her hand in the one he offered.
“What were you reading?” he asked as she tucked her book under her arm. He had left his book on the table next to his chair. He would return for it later.
“Evelina.”
“I have not read that.”
“I read it when we were here at Michaelmas and had read it twice before that — not this particular copy, but another at home.”
“In town?”
She nodded. “Before Father died.”
“Ah.”
“He purchased it for me.” She missed her father. He was much like the good Reverend Villars in her novel, and she was his heart, his lady, his princess, or so he had said often enough when she was young. She sighed.
“He was a good man?”
“He was. We wanted for nothing, especially affection.” She smiled sheepishly up at Richard. “He was perhaps a bit too indulgent.”
That lovely deep chuckle rumbled from the colonel’s chest.
“Spoiled you, did he?”
“Yes.” Her father had given her everything for which she asked if it were in his power to do so. Charles had continued the practice until recently when she had returned to town without his permission. Since then, her brother had been withholding as much from her as he could — except for his displeasure. That he had heaped on her in great doses.
“And your mother? Did she spoil you as well?”
Caroline shook her head. “Not like Father. Mama was determined that Louisa and I grow up to be fine ladies. She knew that Father intended for us to leave our place in trade and rise to that of the landowner, and she believed him absolutely capable of accomplishing that task. Therefore, she educated us accordingly. Things were not her way of bestowing treasures upon us. Knowledge was.”
“Your education is good then?”
“It is. Both Louisa and I attended school and were instructed by masters in all the accomplishments a lady requires.”
They had reached the hall on which her rooms were located.
“Then why do you feel inadequate?”
“I beg your pardon?” Did he find her inadequate? She certainly did not think of herself in such terms.
“I believe I know,” he replied.
“Do you?” She was not all certain she wished to hear his opinion on her adequacy or lack thereof, but from his confident tone of voice, she knew she would hear it whether she wished it or not.
He nodded and drawing to a stop a few feet from her door, turned to look at her. “I have been considering you for days. You are pretty. You move with grace. You can organize a household and set it to running properly whether you are at Netherfield or in town simply conveying your wishes to Mrs. Nichols by post — I know that yesterday’s fete was not arranged in one day.” He shook his head, and his brows drew together. “I have yet to witness any area in which you are
deficient save your parentage and kindness.” He placed a finger on her lips to stop her protest. “You do struggle with kindness, but I am beginning to believe it is not because you do not like Mrs. Bennet or Miss Bennet or even Miss Lydia. There is another reason.” He should remove his finger from her lips instead of stroking them as he wished, and with great effort, he managed to make his hand comply with reason.
“And what is that?” she demanded. It was rather ungentlemanly and unkind of him to point out her deficiencies in such a fashion. However, she was interested to hear his theory. She had never encountered anyone who had attempted to unravel her character. Most gentlemen, as well as ladies, only looked at her status and appearance. Therefore, it was rather intriguing to think that the colonel had considered her beyond those things.
He shrugged. “It occurred to me as I was attempting to read and not watch you, that you do not like you.”
She gave him befuddled look. “I like myself just fine.” Wallflowers that lined the ballrooms, avoiding the notice of one and all did not like themselves. She was no wallflower.
He shook his head. “No, you do not.”
She crossed her arms. “Yes, I do.”
He smiled and pulling her arms apart, took the hand that did not hold a book and placed it on his arm. “No, you do not,” he replied as they traversed the last few steps to her door. “But do not fear, I shall help you.”
“I do not need help in liking myself,” she protested. “I think very highly of myself.”
He chuckled, but this time she did not enjoy the sound of it.
“It definitely appears to everyone that you do think very well of yourself; however, it is a disguise.”
“It is not.”
“It is,” he said as she turned to open her door, “for a lady who truly thinks well of herself is kind, and we have already established that you struggle with kindness.”
She huffed. “You have established. I have done nothing of the sort.”
“You have with your actions. Must I remind you of them?”