Chapter 34 Caroline
Bingley rode north, first along the Longstone road, then turning onto the Sheffield road, which would in time lead him to the Doncaster turnpike. At half past ten, he drew up at an inn to bespeak a light meal.
“Daniel, take Spartan and see that he is fed and watered. Meet us inside. We shall eat and then move on.”
As the men left the yard and made their way toward the front entrance, Bingley caught sight of a familiar coach on the road ahead. He stopped and watched until it came clearly into view. It was his coach, the smaller one Caroline had taken to travel north.
“Christopher, go on inside and eat,” he said quietly. “I believe that is my coach coming up the road.”
The young man squinted toward it. “Yes, sir. That’s old Briggs driving.”
“Very well, go in and eat. I shall send Briggs and Frank to join you presently. I will speak with my sister first.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once the man had gone inside, Bingley strode back into the yard and half concealed himself behind a shed, lest his sister see him too soon and take fright and flee from him. When the carriage halted, and Frank let down his mistress, Bingley stepped forward.
“Caroline,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind, “I have been searching for you. Come, let us walk so that we may speak privately.”
She raised her eyes and, upon seeing him, fell upon his neck. “Charles! I was coming to Pemberley in search of you.”
“In search of me?” he asked in astonishment. “Why are you not with your husband and his family on the farm?”
Her expression crumpled. “Augustus is not a gentleman. He would not listen to me, nor would my uncle or aunt. I had no other recourse but to flee from them and find you.”
Charles took her into his arms, his voice faltering. “Not a gentleman? Did he… did he force himself upon you?”
“No, I ran from him.”
“But how did you know where to find me?”
“When I arrived at my uncle’s house, I wrote to you at Netherfield, asking why you had instructed Briggs to bring me there when I had requested to be driven to Leeds, to my Aunt Martha’s.
My uncle posted the letter himself, for he also wished to know why I had been deposited at his door without notice.
Briggs wished to return with the carriage, but I would not permit him to leave until I received your reply. ”
She lifted her head from his shoulder, her eyes narrowing and her brow drawing together.
“I heard nothing from you, and then Augustus arrived with an express. You had offered me in marriage without so much as a word to me, and in that moment, he revealed his true character. I attempted to escape him three times, yet in the end he carried me off to Scotland to be married over the anvil. By then, we had been two days upon the road, without a chaperone, and I could not refuse him. Our family knows of it now, and thus I find myself married.”
Her expression was now resolute, though the memory plainly cost her effort.
“When Augustus proposed to take rooms at an inn and bring me to his bed, I refused him outright. I told him I would scream if he so much as attempted it, and he soon perceived that I spoke in earnest. He had imagined I was teasing him, employing what he called the customary artifices of elegant females, but I disabused him of that notion at once.”
She buried her face in her hands and began to weep. After a few minutes, she had composed herself and continued her story.
“From your express, I learned that you and my sister were already at Pemberley. I put Augustus off until we returned to my uncle’s estate, but he would not desist. He insisted that, as his wife, I was bound to admit him to my bed.
One evening, I stole away and ordered Briggs to prepare your carriage.
I had my pin money still, so I possessed enough to travel south and pay for lodging and fodder for the horses. ”
Bingley regarded her with concern. “But, sister, why are you alone? Why did you not bring your maid?”
“Martina refused to come with me,” she said, her voice breaking. “Uncle threatened to turn her off if she were caught aiding my escape. So she remained behind.”
“And why should Uncle suppose you would flee?”
“Because he would not listen to me,” she cried.
“I wrote you a letter, but he refused to post it. He said your express had warned him that I was attempting to spread damaging gossip about your friend. After that, he forbade me from sending any letters. When I begged him to write to you himself, asking that you visit and help me reconcile matters with my cousin, he refused again, saying that no one ought to come between a man and his wife. I appealed to Augustus next, asking him to take me down to Pemberley so that I might speak with you. He would not. He said he would not permit me to air his dirty laundry to my family. My only recourse was to flee.”
She looked up at him imploringly. “Charles, please confer with Augustus. Explain to him why a woman must needs come to know her husband before she can endure his attentions. His notions are barbaric.”
At this, she broke down once more. Bingley led her away from the road into a small stand of trees and handed her his handkerchief.
At last, he said quietly, “Caroline, Augustus has always been handsome, wealthy, and his figure is the pattern card of masculinity. In my experience, women have been ready to fall at his feet if he but smiled at them. Had I known you would take such a dislike to him, I would have been more circumspect in seeing to your future. He seemed the cousin with the greatest resolve, the one best able to manage your tricks, and that is why I sent you to him. He needed a wife, and I confess I thought your beauty and coloring would particularly attract him. He is nine-and-twenty and an only child. Uncle Ambrose has long wished him to marry and begin his nursery, fearing his fortune might otherwise descend to another line.”
Caroline spoke then.
“Charles, I know we parted under strained circumstances. I have ever been headstrong and willful, and I wish now that I had learned to comport myself as a lady. Had I behaved well, I might even now have been one of the guests at Pemberley, instead of being wedded to a man who will not hear me. It has been a harsh lesson, one I would not wish upon my worst enemy.”
She turned her gaze away.
“I know I have been especially hateful in all my dealings with the Bennet sisters. It shocked me to see how taken he was with her, the very man who never looks at any woman except to find a blemish, completely besotted with another. I felt a jealousy I had never known, one that colored my conduct with resentment of the acutest kind. I shudder to think how I must appear to him, the man I have loved, in silence and in folly, these seven years past.”
He placed an arm around her shoulders. “I will do what I can for you. Let us return to the inn to eat, and then I shall drive north with you to speak with our cousin and Uncle Ambrose. As for your disappointed hopes regarding Darcy, he never looked at you in that way. He is deeply in love with his wife and has eyes for no other. I can only hope that you will turn your back on him, and on any hopes you may still cherish, and learn to cling to your husband in the future.”
As they walked back, he asked gently, “Caroline, tell me plainly, did Augustus try to hurt you or force himself upon you? Is that why you are so distraught?”
She shivered, and his alarm deepened. “No, he did not, but Charles, you should have seen his eyes, the way he looked at me, and the things he said. They were words no gentleman would speak to a stranger, much less to a gently-bred lady. He repelled me. I believe the express you sent him somehow gave him license to think he might treat me as his plaything, as property. He believed he could take me to his bed directly after the ceremony.”
Bingley sighed heavily. “I am sorry, little sister. I did not foresee such trouble. I see now that I managed the whole affair in a most hurly-burly fashion. I will do what I can to set it right.”
When they entered the inn, Bingley bespoke a private parlor and ordered stew, bread, and mince pies. As they sat discussing Caroline’s situation, a knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” Bingley called.
Christopher stepped inside. “Sir, a Mr. Augustus Stanbury is here, wishing to speak with you. He claims to be your cousin.”
“He is my cousin,” Bingley replied. “Please send him in.”
Caroline reached out and clutched her brother’s arm, her face troubled. Charles rose to meet his cousin as Augustus entered. The two men shook hands. Augustus’s eyes flicked to Caroline and then back to Bingley, his manner taut with displeasure.
“Charles,” he demanded, “had you anything to do with my wife’s flight from her home and her husband?”
“No, cousin. I received an express from my uncle and set out to find her. Augustus, I have ordered food and am very hungry. Let us dine first, and afterward we may speak of this calmly.”
Caroline interjected, “This concerns me. I wish to be present when you discuss my future.”
“Very well,” Bingley said. “Will you join us, cousin? We may talk while we await our luncheon.”
Augustus sat and looked at his wife. Seeing her pale face and the shadows under her eyes, his own expression softened.
Bingley hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. “I find this exceedingly embarrassing, but it must be said. Caroline is afraid of you. Augustus, have you no sense of decency? No address?”
Color rose in the other man’s cheeks. “To what do you refer, Charles? What indecency do you accuse me of?”
Bingley turned to his sister, but she was looking down at her hands, a pained expression on her face. “You attempted to press my sister into intimacies she was not prepared to meet. She had scarcely made your acquaintance before the wedding. How many days had you known her, cousin?”
Augustus looked abashed. “Three days.”
“Only three,” Bingley repeated gravely. “My sister was reared as a gently-bred lady, not a tavern girl. It was my understanding that you desired a wife who would rear your children in the manner of the gentry. Is that still your wish?”
“Yes,” said Augustus quietly. “It is.”
“Then I do not comprehend you,” Bingley continued. “You attended Harrow and later university. You have lived all your life among gentlemen; you know how a gentlewoman is to be treated. Why then did you behave in such a manner as to cause her to fear you?”
Augustus’s eyes fell. “You are right, Charles.” He turned to Caroline, whose gaze remained fixed upon her lap, her cheeks burning.
“You are a very beautiful woman, Caroline. I have seldom seen such delicacy of complexion and flaming hair. I lost my head when I first beheld you. When I read Charles’s express offering your hand, I believed you were agreeable to the match, that you wished to marry me as I wished to marry you. ”
Caroline lifted her eyes, surprise written plainly across her face for both men to see.
Bingley spoke at once. “I apologize, Augustus, if I gave you that impression. Caroline and I parted under strained circumstances. She was on the verge of making her name a byword, and I feared she would bring ruin upon our family. Since my father’s death, I have been unable to manage her temper or her whims.”
Caroline winced. She had behaved very ill indeed. How had she become such a loathsome creature? She had been a sweet child once; she knew, for her father had often said so. Her brother’s voice drew her back to the present.
“I confess I panicked. I asked myself who could guide her, and I thought of you. You are a man of strength and resolution, and I believe that, of all my cousins, only you possess the firmness of temperament to keep her in line. I see now how ill-judged that decision was.”
He turned to his sister. “I am sorry, Caroline. I grew weary of your antics and, in a moment of weakness, I offered you to our cousin, thinking he alone could govern your impetuous nature.”
When Bingley paused, Augustus spoke, his tone subdued.
“I, too, must beg your pardon, Caroline. I am ashamed to admit that I lost sight of you as a person, with feelings and wishes of your own. I have not behaved as a gentleman ought, nor as my vows required. I have treated you as property rather than as the woman you are, deserving of respect. Though the law grants me authority over you, it does not relieve me of humanity. But it is not too late. We can begin again. Tell me, what may I do to help you feel safe in our home?”
Caroline looked at him. “I need time,” she said quietly. “I do not yet know who you truly are, and I must learn to trust you, and to feel some affection for you, before we may come together. At present, I feel only anger for the treatment I have suffered at your hand.”
Augustus inclined his head solemnly. “You have my word, on my honor: you will live in safety under my roof, and I will not come to you until you are ready.”
Bingley looked from one to the other. “What say you, Caroline? Do you accept his apology and his oath? Will you return with your husband to your new home?”
“I will,” she said quietly.
Bingley glanced at his pocket watch. “It grows late, I hope to leave within the hour. Much has been accomplished. Augustus, I shall travel south after we dine. Is there anything further you wish to discuss before we part?”
Augustus shook his head. “No. I am satisfied.”
Caroline lowered her eyes, her thoughts turning inward.
She must give up her love for Mr. Darcy.
How it had wounded her to hear Charles speak of Fitzwilliam as a man in love with another, and he was in love, she had seen it with her own eyes.
What it would have been to be the woman he adored.
Yet her brother was right; she must stop thinking of him once and for all.
Her mind turned to another, the man who so closely resembled Fitzwilliam, the one she had for one night, believed could take his place.
What if Colonel Fitzwilliam ever revealed their secret?
Her foolish attempt to compromise him haunted her still.
What could she have been thinking? Her cheeks burned with shame whenever she recalled the way she had dressed, how she had crept into his room.
She resolved then and there that she would never see him again, even if it meant she would never show her face in London for the rest of her life. In future, she must take care with what she drank, for it clouded her judgment, and with her temperament, she was prone to do foolish things.