Chapter Twenty-one #2
“I do not know how you can afford this venture of yours without marrying a woman with a fortune of her own.” Caroline abruptly stopped walking.
She removed her hand from his arm and stared at him.
“I see,” she said coldly. Turning on her heel, she strode away, back toward the house.
Clearly, he only wants me for my money. I cannot believe I let myself hope that he meant to offer for me because he loves me. Stupid, stupid Caroline!
“What is wrong?” Douglas asked, catching up to her. “Have I offended you?”
Caroline could not mention her foolish thoughts. “I have the headache. I need to lie down upon my couch before our guests arrive.”
“I am sorry you are not feeling well,” he said, easily keeping up with her.
“Thank you for pointing out the financial challenges a political life will bring. A moneyed wife is not the only way for a gentleman to earn extra income, of course. Just the simplest. However, I have an idea that my investment in the Regent’s canal venture will profit me greatly. ”
“Stop talking about money, please,” Caroline said, her voice deliberately harsh. “It is such an uncouth topic.”
“Of course. I beg your pardon, I believed you were interested.”
Caroline thought she heard disappointment in his tone but decided she must be imagining it.
*
Wednesday morning dawned, and Caroline still did not know if she would accompany the colonel on his journey to bring Georgiana’s potential new governess-companion to Netherfield.
The night had brought a period of reflection.
Basile had curled up beside her, purring and accepting her soothing caresses.
His presence greatly calmed her. She managed to set aside her visceral reaction to the idea that the colonel wished to marry her only for her money.
Both ladies and gentlemen looked for a financial advantage in their marital alliances.
I said much the same to Charles just yesterday.
Instead of dwelling on her initial hurt, she used her intellect to examine whether or not she might enjoy being married to… Douglas.
“He is kind,” she said softly as her maid brushed her hair.
“Who is, miss?” Agatha asked.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“Oh, aye. His batman says the same, miss. And polite to servants, he is.”
Caroline touched a hairpin on her dressing table and began to play with it, turning it around and around.
“I have had three seasons,” she murmured.
“Fourth’ll be the charm, miss,” Agatha said, making no effort to hide her understanding of Caroline’s meaning.
“He makes me laugh.”
“A pleasant gentleman, miss,” her maid said, beginning to arrange Caroline’s hair into loops and swirls.
Caroline passed her hairpins. “The colonel has some interesting plans.”
“Has he, miss?”
“Yes. And, I do not like to be bored,” Caroline mused.
Her maid, who had been her nursemaid, clucked. “You always did get yourself into trouble when you was bored, miss.”
“He lives in London.”
“Does he, miss?”
Caroline did not answer her. Instead, she kept her other ideas silent.
But do I love him?
Does that matter so much?
I would not have been so angry if I did not love him. Unless it was only pride that fueled my ire.
Does he love me? Do I want him to love me?
Yes…I want him to love me.
Caroline Bingley, do not be a fool. Marriage is a partnership—or at least that is what I would prefer. Mother and Father’s marriage had been so. She supported him in all his financial endeavors. Could I be the woman behind Colonel Fitzwilliam’s political success?
The idea excited Caroline, which answered her question about whether she would be going to retrieve Mrs. Inwood from Hemel Hempstead with the colonel today.
“Please prepare a travel basket for our journey today,” Caroline told Agatha.
“We will be in the carriage for approximately an hour. We will pick up Mrs. Inwood, and then return here. Be certain to include some lemon and ginger tea—cold. Bring something for yourself, too. And calculate the quantities so there will be enough for Mrs. Inwood.”
“Aye, miss,” Agatha said. “When will we be departing?”
“This morning. I will ask the colonel for particulars and then send word down to the kitchens.”
“Very good, miss. You’ll be wanting to wear a travelling gown, then, miss?”
“I will—but nothing too heavy. It is already hot today.”
“Aye, miss,” she said, pushing the last pin into Caroline’s hair to hold a curl in place.
*
Darcy glanced at his cousin as Douglas sat eating his morning meal half-heartedly. He picked at his kipper, pulling free boneless morsels for Basile, who sat attentively on the floor, staring up at Douglas. Other than Brewster, the butler, they were alone.
“What ails you this morning, Cousin?” Darcy asked, reaching for his cup of coffee.
Douglas sighed. “I upset Miss Bingley yesterday—surely you noticed during dinner?”
“I thought Bingley was the target of her ire.”
“He may have been,” Douglas said. “But so was I.”
“I know you too well to think you deliberately insulted her,” Darcy remarked.
“I told her about my political ambitions.”
“And she objected?”
“I thought she was interested,” Douglas said, frowning and pushing his food around on his plate. “She even discussed the cost of such a career with me quite boldly, I thought.”
“And then?” Darcy probed.
“And then she turned cold and walked back to the house, saying she had the headache. Maybe she did, but she seemed more angry than unwell.” He sorted out another piece of fish and gave it to Basile. “What kind of fish is this? I do not recognize it.”
“Smoked pike,” Darcy said. “Bingley and I caught it. There is a man in Meryton who smokes the locally caught fish on behalf of anglers.”
His cousin wrinkled his nose. “I cannot tell if I like it or not. I usually like smoked fish, but perhaps I am simply not hungry.”
Darcy wondered if Douglas had been paying particular attention to Miss Bingley or if he had simply been polite in his attentions.
Darcy and Bingley kept leaving him and Miss Bingley to their own devices while they pursued the two Bennet sisters.
His cousin seemed too upset, however, for someone who had merely been polite.
“When are you setting off for Hemel Hempstead?”
“In an hour or so.” Douglas abandoned his plate of food and concentrated on his coffee. After Basile reminded him of his duty by patting his leg, he continued to supply the cat with tiny morsels of fish.
“Will Miss Bingley and her maid be accompanying you as was planned?” Darcy asked before he stabbed a thinly sliced piece of roast beef.
“I do not know if she is still interested in sitting in a carriage with me for an hour with only her maid to support her,” Douglas admitted. He shrugged slightly.
The subject of their discussion sailed into the small dining room, her chin in the air, but her expression less pinched than the previous evening. Darcy and the colonel both rose and bowed.
“Good morning,” Miss Bingley said brightly.
“You appear to be feeling better,” Douglas said, pulling out her chair in preparation for when she had her plate of food.
“I am, thank you. Have you been feeding Basile some fish?” she asked him.
“I have. He is a gourmand.”
She chuckled, and then her gaze turned to her other guest. “Mr. Darcy.”
“Miss Bingley. Thank you for accompanying my cousin on his journey to Hemel Hempstead today. I hope we have not inconvenienced you,” Darcy said, returning to his seat as she took swift steps toward the sideboard.
“Not at all. I am looking forward to the excursion,” Miss Bingley said.
Darcy exchanged glances with Douglas. He looks distinctly relieved. Can it be that my cousin has found a potential wife at last?
*
After their morning meal, Jane accompanied Lizzy on her rounds of the barnyard animals.
As usual, they approached the stables first. They greeted each horse by name, and Lizzy watched them carefully as they were led out of their stalls by the head groom and walked around in the stableyard.
As the second carriage horse was led out of the yard and put into a paddock, Jane took Lizzy’s arm and squeezed it.
“Dearest?” Jane’s soft voice hummed with expectation.
Lizzy looked into her beloved face and smiled. “Yes, Jane?”
“Mr. Bingley is coming today,” she whispered excitedly. “I can scarcely bear it…the waiting, I mean.”
“Are you going driving again?”
“Maybe…I do not know…Lizzy, Mr. Bingley is coming to see Papa.”
Lizzy gaped at her. “Truly?”
“Yes. Truly.”
Lizzy chuckled. “Jane, dear, you look like you might vibrate out of your skin. Have you warned Papa?” Jane swiftly nodded. “And have you told him of your regard for Mr. Bingley?”
“Yes. I told him last evening.”
“So, that is why he looked so mischievous this morning at table,” Lizzy said, laughing behind her hand.
“You naughty girl. What a sister I have that you did not come to my bedchamber last night and tell me all about it then. Were you afraid I would disapprove of you marrying such a delightful, friendly gentleman?”
“You might have thought Mr. Bingley too young to marry,” Jane said, looking abashed. “I could not bear it if you did not love him at least half as much as I do—as a brother, of course.”
“Of course,” Lizzy said, beaming. “Mama will be pleased. She would have quizzed you something dreadful if she knew Mr. Bingley is coming to see Papa today.”
Jane bit her lip and grimaced. “I dare say nothing to her until the meeting is over. You know her excitable ways. When we tell her, I know I will make her so happy—my own heart is more full than I can say.”
“Has Mr. Bingley told his sister?”
“He said he would do so yesterday,” Jane said, appearing pensive.
“I would not be surprised to learn that Miss Bingley tried to convince him he should wait until he is older.” Lizzy would rip and tear at her if that happened.
“Do you think he should?”
Lizzy impulsively embraced her. “Silly goose. He will be older by the time you marry. Are you going to wait until the spring?”