Chapter Fourteen #2
“Why, whichever team you are on.” This was perhaps overdoing it a little, she knew, but subtleties hadn’t yet been part of
the Great Endeavour’s curriculum. She ignored Georgiana’s raised eyebrow and kept her attention on her target.
Mr Radcliffe chuckled, giving Caroline an appraising look. “You believe me to be a victor, Miss Bingley?”
“It is not what I believe, sir,” said she. “For I know very little of the sport, that much is true. But I heard your friend
Mr Howard say that when you declared your intent to row, several gentlemen immediately changed their bets. To have such support
speaks of prior experience with your talent.”
“Is that so?” he said, his eyebrows rising. “A sharp mind behind such a beautiful face, Miss Bingley. Twin dangers indeed.”
Georgiana was watching them intently, her mouth hidden by the rim of her glass of lemonade. The other men, apparently too
interested in their own conversations, had already wandered off to stand by the pier.
“What say we make the bet a little more interesting?” Mr Radcliffe suggested.
Now Caroline was the one intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”
“Money is beside the point. I expect you and I have enough of it already,” he said, with a careless wave of his hand. “If
I win, I would like to have the honour of your company for lunch.”
Caroline allowed him the full force of her most charming smile, allowing the moment to drag on for a heartbeat longer than was proper. “Do you think that motivation enough to win, sir?”
He smirked back. “I am certain the opportunity will lend my arms hitherto unknown strength, Miss Bingley.”
Caroline nodded her acquiescence, and Mr Radcliffe gave a short bow before strolling away. “Well,” said she, the moment he
was out of earshot, “that was something, was it not?”
“Indeed.” Georgiana opened her mouth, seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say, and closed it again. “I am
delighted that you have found a potential match.”
“Hardly,” Caroline scoffed. “One conversation is no basis for a marriage.”
“People have fallen in love over less,” Georgiana pointed out, studying Caroline. “A single look across a crowded ballroom,
even.”
“You need not fear the same from me, Georgie. If I am to fall in love, it will take time and many conversations. And many
such looks, both in public and in private.” Caroline cast a quick glance at Mr Radcliffe, who was entertaining his fellows
with some jocular story that had them all in stitches. Flirting had always been fun for its own sake—and what young lady did
not like attention being lavished on her by eligible men?—but when she looked at Mr Radcliffe, she did not feel any particular
desire. Still, as she’d just pointed out to Georgiana, love could not be so easy as a single glance. “One ought to know the
true nature of one’s intended partner before one utters a weighty word such as love.”
“Do not tell me you are getting cold feet about your Grand Endeavour now,” Georgiana teased, nudging Caroline with her elbow.
“Firstly, I would have thought you’d encourage me to get to know a man before trying to wed him,” Caroline countered, elbowing Georgiana back and eliciting a grin from her companion. “And secondly, you know very well that it is the Great Endeavour, not the Grand Endeavour.”
“I know it indeed, but nothing pleases me so much as pulling your tail a little, just to see your claws emerge. I have always
thought you at your prettiest when slightly peeved, Miss Bingley.” Miss Darcy’s dark eyes met her own, and the look in them
was so intimate, so knowing, that for a moment Caroline entirely forgot that they were surrounded by people, forgot that there
was a sky above and grass underfoot; forgot everything but Georgiana’s tender smile, meant for her alone. Something in her
chest twinged; not the soft pluck of a harp string, but something hard and sharp and—
Someone bumped into her, jostling her hard enough to nudge her off-balance for a moment, and Georgiana caught her by the elbow
before Caroline fell flat on her face. “Why, Miss Chester,” Georgiana said, turning to the offending party. “Are you injured?”
Caroline turned too, finding two ladies behind her. The younger of the pair—evidently sisters, with matching brown hair and
grey eyes—was staring at the ground and had bent to massage her ankle. The girl, who now looked up in consternation, could
not have been more than seven-and-ten. “Oh, Miss Darcy! My deepest apologies to your friend,” she said, looking as guilty
as if she’d just run Caroline through with a sabre. “I must have tripped on this tussock. I hope I did not injure either of
you?”
Miss Darcy’s hand was still on her elbow. Caroline swallowed as the warm fingers slipped away, wishing they could remain. “I am unharmed,” she assured the group. “And you?”
“Perfectly fine,” the girl said stoutly. “I am forever falling over things which are there, as well as things which are not.”
“Miss Bingley, allow me to introduce Miss Emily Chester,” Georgiana said, smiling, “and Miss Laurel Chester. We have met but
twice before, have we not?”
“Indeed,” Miss Laurel agreed. “Though it is our wish to get to know you far better, Miss Darcy. Not”—she threw a reproachful
glance at her sister, who looked sheepish—“by tumbling into your acquaintances, let it be said.”
Georgiana smiled. “But that is how one meets half of the most interesting people in all of England, is it not?” She turned
back to Caroline. “It is said that Miss Emily Chester knows everything about every family of note in the entire country.”
“Is that so?” Caroline said, looking at the younger Miss Chester with renewed interest. “What can you tell me about my brother,
Charles Bingley?”
“Worth five thousand a year, recently married to a Miss Jane Bennet,” the girl rattled off. “Resides at Netherfield Park just
outside of Meryton. Very well-liked and always spoken of in glowing terms.”
“Handsome, too,” Miss Laurel added. “For I saw him at a ball in London, and he was very pleasing to the eye. I see that beauty
runs in the family, Miss Bingley. You do not have any unmarried brothers that are in need of wives, perchance?”
“You are too kind,” Caroline said, smiling, for the praise seemed genuine enough. “I fear my beauty hardly compares next to
Miss Darcy. And I’m afraid I have only the one brother to spare, and as you know, he is already married.”
“You know she only has one brother,” Miss Emily whispered to Miss Laurel, loud enough for Caroline to hear.
“Remember your niceties, Em,” her sister muttered, shooting her another sharp look.
“This party is well-attended indeed,” Georgiana said smoothly, drawing their attention. “There are three earls and a baron.
Oh, and a viscount too—Lord Ashbrook. I saw him talking with Lady Lennox earlier.”
“Ashbrook?” Caroline repeated. The name sounded familiar, though she couldn’t think why.
“Over there, under the large oak tree,” Miss Laurel said. “He’s the one in the blue coat.”
The fair-haired viscount in question was standing with an equally fair-haired young man, though he did not seem to really
be paying much attention to his companion’s conversation and instead was staring into the crowd with an expression of deepest
yearning. If pressed, Caroline would have guessed the lord was no more than eight-and-twenty, though he had the solemn, sad
countenance of a man ten years his senior. The freckled boy was perhaps nine-and-ten, therefore surely could not be the viscount’s
son. Scenting intrigue, Caroline tried to follow Ashbrook’s gaze, but it was impossible to tell who might have caught his
attention. For a moment, as if feeling the weight of her gaze, his face turned towards her. She met his eye with interest,
noting the full lips, the handsome set of his jaw, before he turned away again. From this distance, he could have been mistaken
for being Georgiana’s brother; the resemblance was striking.
“I say, he is rather fine, is he not?” Caroline said. “He might be the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life.”
“I must agree.” Miss Laurel giggled. “He is considered the best catch for miles around, though no feminine angler has been able to ensnare him yet.”
“Miss Chester, what can you tell us about Mr Radcliffe?” Georgiana asked abruptly, indicating the man in question with a slight
jerk of her chin in his direction.
Caroline had almost forgotten about Mr Radcliffe’s existence. Focus on the Great Endeavour, she reminded herself, not on extremely handsome lords whose attentions have evidently been caught elsewhere. I need a fish without a hook already embedded in its cheek.
Miss Emily looked delighted to be able to prove her skills yet again. “He is the owner of a large estate down in Wales. He
is worth about three thousand a year. He won races for Oxford every year that he attended, though any man here could have
told you that fact.”
Caroline could already hear her mother’s pronouncement on the subject: A suitable catch indeed. Mr Radcliffe was looking more and more promising by the minute.
“He was previously married,” Miss Emily continued, “but his wife died after only two years.”
Miss Laurel shot her a warning glance. “That’ll do, Em.”
“In childbirth—”
“That will do!” Miss Laurel snapped.
“And the baby died, too,” Miss Emily mumbled, shooting an apologetic glance at her sister. “My apologies, but you know I cannot
stop mid-stream.”
“So he is a widower with no children?” Caroline asked, forestalling further bickering. How perfect. Not for him, of course, but his circumstances suited her very well indeed.