Chapter 24 #2
The worst part of living in this purgatory was the fact that she had no control over her money.
Her quarterly allowance was sent directly to Uncle John, and she received no coin for herself.
If she claimed she needed some funds to make a purchase, one of them would go purchase the item and give it to Caroline.
They would only do so if her aunt or uncle agreed it was needed.
Thanks to them doing this, she was left with nothing to sell to get funds.
Her jewellery was confiscated because she had tried to bribe one of the footmen with a ring to return her to London during the journey to Scarborough.
Because of her aunt’s and uncle’s draconian rules, even had she something to sell on the rare occasions she was allowed out of the house, Caroline was always escorted by a maid and a footman.
If she needed to be measured or fitted for a dress, which hardly ever occurred, the maid would accompany her at all times.
She did not even have her own lady’s maid!
The traitorous girl served her cousin Angela and herself.
Just because Caroline was not paying the girl’s wages should not have meant the girl should stab her in the back.
As soon as she reached her majority and could leave this hellish prison, sacking the disloyal girl without a character would be the first thing she would do.
She lamented the fact that her majority was still two years and ten months away. September 1810 could not come fast enough for Caroline Bingley.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“Now Karen, you must remember that you need to be diffident to these toffs. They like everyone to bow down and scrape before them. That, combined with your memorising everything you need to say to impress them with your experience, will ensure you get the position,” Wickham instructed.
“What if they ask me the names of my fictitious charges? They may have heard of the real names,” Karen Younge worried.
“You have nothing to concern yourself about. No one will ask you such a question. All they will care about is that you worked for their betters and you are willing to join their household. You will see. You have nothing about which to worry,” Wickham insisted.
“The hackney will be here about a quarter after ten. It should take about a half hour to reach Holder House on Park Lane. If you get there too soon, take a little walk in the park, which is just across the street from their house. You do not want to seem too keen and arrive too early. Five to ten minutes before will be more than enough to show them you care about being punctual.”
Miss Younge calmed herself. George would not tell her the wrong thing. His plan was meticulous, and now, it rested on her shoulders to get the job. Yes, all would be well.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The Fitzwilliam and Darcy coaches arrived outside Holder House just before ten, each with the additional passenger or passengers, respectively. Additionally, the first conveyance to arrive carried Lady Elaine as well, and the next one also bore Lady Anne and Anna.
Fitzwilliam and William were already present as they had ridden out with the residents of the house that morning, something anyone watching would have noted was a perfectly normal occurrence.
Richard Fitzwilliam had decided to remain in Town for the Little Season.
He made sure to be present at any ball he knew Jane would attend, and as much as he wanted to dance more than one set each time, after her coming out ball, he restricted himself to one, but always a significant set.
Jamey, Andrew, or William always reserved the other two significant sets between them.
Hence, no other man had her first, supper, or final sets.
This was an arrangement for which Jane had said she was grateful.
He had promised himself he would allow Jane to experience a season before declaring himself, and a season she would have.
Fitzwilliam was very pleased to see that she showed no interest in any other man who danced with her.
She was always polite and not distant, but nothing beyond the dictates of propriety.
Any ball Bingley attended that Jane was at, the young buck would make a beeline for her. Like she did with all the others who flocked to her, she was polite but nothing more and always apologised that all three significant sets were taken but offered the man any of her other open sets.
Bingley and the other men who fancied they would attract her notice soon realised they would never be the recipient of a significant set and that they had not ignited Lady Jane’s interest.
If there were men who thought to force the issue, they had not tried because of the combination of the men of the family and the guards and their unwavering vigilance.
One fortune hunter, a man by the name of Willoughby, tried to lead Jane to a balcony against her wishes.
With a swift stomp on his foot and elbow to his solar plexus, she freed herself without any fuss before Biggs and Johns arrived and escorted the man out of the ballroom.
He was not seen in society for over a month thanks to the pummelling he had received.
Since then, word circulated that a man would risk his person to attempt anything with Lady Jane Carrington-Bennet.
When his parents and the other men had entered the drawing room, Fitzwilliam had been sitting next to Jane. It was not surprising Andrew was absent. He was calling on his betrothed. Besides, he was not needed in this; there were more than enough men without him.
When one of the footmen watching the front of the house noted a hackney cab arriving and a woman climbing down, he reported the fact to the master.
“Gentlemen, we should retire to the study,” Holder suggested.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Wickham had shared the small carriage with his paramour from the boarding house on Edward Street.
He had the man take Grosvenor Street toward Hyde Park and Park Lane.
He had commanded the coachman to stop on the corner of Park Street and Grosvenor Street.
It was a little bit of a walk to Park Lane, but Wickham did not want to chance one of Carrington’s men seeing him alight from the same hackney as Karen.
He sauntered towards Park Lane and the park beyond it.
The mansion was on his right. As he walked, he made sure not to pay it any undue attention.
When he reached the corner opposite Hyde Park, Wickham saw at least one footman near to the point where one end of the semi-circular drive touched the street.
As this was something he had seen multiple times before, it did not bother Wickham.
All it meant was he would not stop here.
Without paying any undue attention to Holder House, he simply walked across Park Lane as if it were what he had always intended to do.
Wickham entered Hyde Park via the Grosvenor Gate and walked a little while.
He found the bench he had used before; it was on a slight rise in the ground which afforded him a clear view of the facade of Holder House.
As he watched, the hackney stopped, and Karen alighted.
Using his innate intelligence, Wickham had borrowed a wig with greying hair from a store which supplied those who performed on the boards of the various London theatres. With it, Karen looked much older, the age she would have been to have the experience she was supposed to have.
Karen Younge walked up to the huge double doors, a little slower than she would normally to give the impression she was older than she was. “Mrs Younge to meet with Lord Holder,” she told one of the footmen.
The footman was expecting the lady, so he knocked once on the left-hand door. Mr Fenster opened it without delay.
“Mrs Younge?” the butler verified.
“Indeed, I am she,” Karen Younge confirmed.
“May I take your coat?” Fenster asked. He took it and handed it to a nearby footman. “Please follow me.”
Miss Younge had never been inside of a mansion before and was awed at what she saw as she walked.
It was not opulent, but everything was of the highest quality.
They ascended a staircase with alternating black and white marble steps.
Even the bannisters were marble. When they reached the first floor, she followed as the butler led her past several rooms; some had closed doors and others open.
She thought she heard the hum of feminine voices as she passed a set of double doors, but she could not make out anything being said.
The butler stopped at a door at the end of the hallway and gave a single knock.
“Come,” Holder called out.
Fenster pushed the door open partially. “Mrs Younge to see you, my Lord,” he announced. His body was between the woman and the study, so she had no opportunity to see within.
“She is expected; please show her in,” Holder instructed.
As she was rather awed by the surroundings, forgetting that according to her letter she had been in the houses of a prince and a duke, Miss Younge only saw the man seated behind the large mahogany desk at first. The door clicked shut behind her.
It was only then she noticed many men sitting and all looking at her as if she were an insect to be scraped off their shoes.
Sensing danger, Miss Younge whirled around to attempt to escape the room and ran into the chest of the biggest footman she had ever seen.
Now she had to make the best of the situation and try and bluff her way out of the study and then the house.
“Please pardon me, my Lord. I was scared at seeing so many men I have never met in the room when I only expected to meet with you and possibly your wife. As I am not feeling well enough after my fright, may I leave and come back another day?” Karen Younge asked hopefully.
“You have never met these men before? But Mrs Younge, how would you not recognise your former employers?” Holder enquired.
George had promised her they would not check the characters! What was she to do now? Karen Younge did the only thing she could think of; she feigned fainting. She fell to the carpet and prayed she would be left alone. She did not realise the wig had come off when she crumpled to the floor.
Holder nodded to Johns, who lifted the woman as if she were nothing.
Feeling that she was lifted clear of the floor, Karen Younge’s eyes flew open to the impassive stares from the men in the study.
“I have some questions for you. Unless I am sure you have answered truthfully, you will be taken to the Tower to be executed for treason. I suppose you are not aware that Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Bedford, are related to King George III which would make using their names treason. Do you understand?” Holder demanded.
Miss Younge nodded.
“As you were wearing a wig, you were trying to convince us you were older than you are. Is your name even Mrs Younge, and how old are you?” Holder began.
“Miss Karen Younge, twenty-two years old,” she responded, her head down.
“Why did you attempt to gain a place as a companion for my daughters?” Holder queried. She did not reply. “It will be your head which will be lost if you do not answer each question honestly.”
“George Wickham planned this all,” Karen Younge admitted.
“I was correct. I should have taken wagers,” Matlock quipped. “Why did he put you up to this? Sorry, Holder, you are asking the questions.”
“No need to apologise, Matlock. Answer the question Lord Matlock asked.”
“He claimed…” Karen Younge repeated George’s oft-told tale of woe. She was not sure what to expect, but derisive laughter from all but three of the men was not it.
They did not owe her an explanation, but the men who knew Wickham told her the truth of the fork-tongued viper she had believed.
“Where is he now? At your house on Edward Street?” Holder questioned.
“In the area, he alighted at Park Street. I know not where he was going from there.” Listening to the men relate the truth about George, Karen Younge realised she had been played for a fool, and even had they succeeded in extracting funds from the earl, she would have never seen a penny.
“Johns, have the men search around the house and detain anyone who does not belong here,” Holder commanded.
With a quick bow, the big man left the study.
“Prince Esterhazy, Lords Bedford and Jersey, your names were the ones used in that forged work of fiction. Do you think she was truthful and has evaded the executioner’s axe?” Holder queried.
“Transportation with seven years of hard labour will suffice for me,” Bedford replied.
The other two men agreed.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Wickham was relaxed until he saw footmen pour out of the house and begin searching all around it for something or someone.
‘Damn!’ he thought. ‘That chit has shopped on[8] me! I need to get as far away from here as possible. Damn, damn, damn! It was such a good plan. She must have made a mistake!’ Wickham stood and ambled away as nonchalantly as he was able to.
He walked towards Rotten Row and then turned towards the Serpentine.
Thank goodness he had the foresight to relieve Karen of her funds in the strongbox. It was only about fifty pounds, but it would help him escape. Now he did not need to spin a yarn about a footpad breaking into the house.