Chapter 5
Caroline
Caroline Bingley gave herself all the praise she was due—and that was quite a lot.
Despite the exhaustion of a long carriage ride, she had made twenty-five wax blocks the night before.
When the men left for the shooting party, Caroline had swiftly gone through the house, checking the location of the housekeeper, maids, footmen, valets, and especially Georgiana and her companion and lady’s maid.
Actually, now that she was married, Caroline’s elder sister Louisa could not be counted on as a supporter of her schemes, not anymore, so she ascertained her location as well.
Nobody seemed to be on the second floor guest wing, but it was possible another servant or valet could be within one of the rooms. Caroline rapped on each door, listening for a reply; and when she was certain she was alone in the corridor, Caroline tried her skeleton key on each and every door.
She was delighted to discover that more than half of the doors opened.
After that little experiment, Caroline considered the time.
She gave her personal maid the signal, and then she went to the kitchen to check on the refreshments her brother had arranged to have ready after the shooting.
Her demanding, officious manner drew everyone’s attention; nobody noticed Smith putting a few drops into a cup of tea.
Caroline watched as Smith took the teacup to the housekeeper’s office.
Caroline ended with the order that the post-shooting luncheon would be offered on flower-strewn platters in the ballroom.
The servants scurried off to gather flowers and trays.
Caroline waited a few moments before peeking inside the housekeeper’s office.
Mrs Nicholls was asleep. Caroline easily removed the chatelaine and was elated to see how clearly the keys were marked with black ink on leather tags.
She took from a basket she carried the wax blocks she had prepared, and she quickly made an impression of each key she needed.
Then she scratched identifying labels into the wax.
Later that day, Caroline was able to enact another scheme entirely.
All in all, she was extremely proud of what she had been able to accomplish.
She was quite certain that she was one of the most clever ladies the elusive Mr Darcy had ever met.
She had been unable to intrigue him with her intelligence, unfortunately, but at least she could wield it against him like a sword, carving out the life she wished for and deserved.