Chapter Fourteen #2
"You have mentioned them twice in as many minutes, and we have already established that I possess no particular fondness for horses."
Mr Goulding leaned a little closer, his expression perfectly solemn despite the amusement in his green eyes. "I could have them removed before your visit."
Caroline looked at him. "That may be safest."
"The stable too, perhaps, if its presence would cause offence."
"I should not like to put you to so much trouble," she replied, and found herself fighting a smile.
His smile deepened, and Caroline found herself irritated by how easy he was to speak to.
She had expected a vain, silly man—like so many of the men she encountered in London—or at the very least a little wounded pride when she resisted Charles’ efforts.
But Mr Goulding met her sharpness without offence and returned it with dry humour and kindness.
The truth was that he would probably make someone a fine husband, but not her, never her.
Her heart was held by another and she realised in that moment that it was irrevocably lost to him—whether she ever saw him again or not.
Jane coughed, and Caroline looked towards her in concern.
She began to ask whether she was quite well, but Charles had already pressed a glass of water into her hand and was fussing over whether she ought to return upstairs.
Jane assured him that it was only a dryness in her throat, and after watching her for another moment, he reluctantly allowed himself to be reassured.
Unfortunately, his attention then returned to Caroline. "Mr Goulding also has an excellent library at Ashdown," he said. Apparently, he was set on his course, and whatever Caroline, or even poor Mr Goulding, thought was irrelevant.
Louisa closed her eyes, while Caroline laid down her napkin and looked at her brother with gathering disbelief. "Charles, you have already attempted horses. Must we now proceed through every room of the house?"
Mr Goulding glanced towards her with a twinkle in his eye. "We might skip directly to the cellars, if that would bring matters to a swifter conclusion."
Mr Hurst looked up with sudden interest and asked whether they were good cellars. Charles, missing the point entirely, assured him that he had heard very good things.
"That was not an invitation to continue," Caroline said, turning back to her brother. "You cannot march me through Ashdown room by room until I surrender."
Charles’ expression tightened. "He is a good man, Caro. I only thought you might allow yourself to see it."
"I do see it," she said, her voice rising in exasperation. She stood and placed both hands on the table, glaring down at her interfering brother.
Caroline turned towards Mr Goulding, who had borne the entire evening with more grace than anyone had a right to expect.
"You do seem to be a very fine gentleman, sir, and I am sorry that my brother has placed you in such an uncomfortable position.
You have been patient and good-humoured, and I am certain you would make some fortunate woman an excellent husband. "
Something in Mr Goulding’s expression softened as he looked at her. "But not you."
Caroline swallowed. "No."
Charles shifted in his chair. "You cannot know that after one dinner, Caroline."
She turned towards him, speaking slowly and deliberately. "I know it because my heart was lost many years ago, Charles, and no meeting you contrive, however fine the gentleman or high his position, will bring it back. It resides on a beach in Scarborough and there it shall remain."
The words fell heavily into the room. Louisa went still, Elizabeth looked towards Caroline with open sympathy and Mr Darcy’s expression shifted as though some earlier mystery had finally begun to make sense.
Mr Goulding gave a small nod. "Then I shall trouble you no further, Miss Bingley."
"You have not troubled me."
Despite herself, Caroline smiled faintly. Mr Goulding returned it and added, more gently, "I hope we may still be friends."
"I should like that very much."
Charles pushed back his chair, looking from one to the other with mounting frustration.
"This is absurd. I invited a respectable gentleman to dinner.
I did not attempt to force anyone down the aisle.
Should I leave you to live your life stuck in the past?
Or perhaps a nunnery would be more to your liking?
" He raked both hands through his hair in frustration.
Louisa turned towards him. "Charlie, please stop. This is not the time or the place."
"I will not. She speaks as though I have done something monstrous when all I asked was that she give someone a chance and stop behaving like a wilful child whenever she does not get her own way."
Caroline flinched. Louisa told him sharply that he had said enough, but Charles was flushed now, hurt and defensive, and seemed unable to stop himself.
"I am only saying that you cannot spend the rest of your life waiting for a man who may never return.
You are my sister. I am trying to protect you.
It was all Papa asked of me. He did not care how I spent his fortune or what I chose to pursue as a career.
He asked only that I see you safe and settled with a gentleman, and I gave him my word. "
Caroline’s voice rose to a shout. "By choosing for me, just as Papa did, all you will do is hurt me further and I promise you, dear brother, that I have endured enough pain for many, many lifetimes.
How would you feel if I told you to walk away from Miss Bennet, that you could make a better match elsewhere? "
Charles went pale. Jane said his name softly, but no one paid her any mind.
"I am not Papa," he said.
"Then stop behaving as though his promise gave you ownership of my future."
Jane spoke again, louder this time. "Charles."
He turned at last and the anger left his face at once.
Jane had gone deathly pale, one hand gripping the edge of the table while the other pressed against her chest. Caroline was already rushing to her when Jane attempted to rise, but she had barely pushed herself from the chair before her knees gave way beneath her.
Charles caught her with a cry as Elizabeth rushed around the table. Louisa called for Mrs Nicholls, Mr Darcy began directing the servants to clear the chairs and Mr Hurst rose so quickly that his glass overturned, sending blood-red wine spreading across the white tablecloth.
"Jane!" Charles said, trying to hold her upright as her head fell limply against his shoulder.
Caroline reached them and pressed her fingers to Jane’s cheek. The heat of her skin made her recoil.
"Send for Mr Jones," she ordered the footman standing frozen beside the door. "Tell him Miss Bennet has collapsed and that it cannot wait until morning."