Caroline stabbed the quill into the ink pot and tapped off any excess ink before poising the feathered pen over a blank sheet of paper. She knew she must make amends with Jane and heal the rift between herself and Charles. Several crumpled sheets later she finally penned a note meeting her approval.
Grosvenor Street, London
October 14, 1812
My dearest Jane
How delighted Louisa and I are at the thought of you becoming our sister. We have always known, from the very first time we met in Hertfordshire, that you were one of the sweetest girls ever to grace our home. Charles is ecstatic over your upcoming nuptials and I join him in the excitement.
I look forward with much anticipation to welcoming you to the family.
Affectionately, your (soon-to-be) sister
Caroline
The only good thing she found in this humiliation was the fact she did not have to placate Mr. Darcy and write a letter to her.
“Caroline?”
She turned at the sound of her sister calling out her name.
“Oh, there you are.” Louisa stopped in the doorway to the parlor. She was dressed for an afternoon outing and was in the act of pulling on her gloves. “I’m off to Mrs. Pike’s for tea. Do you care to join us, dear?”
“No, thank you. I have to finish this letter and post it immediately.”
Understanding dawned on Louisa’s thin face.
“Ah, yes. ‘Tis good you are mending the tender bonds of fraternal love. At least that Sword of Damocles won’t be hanging over your head at the wedding. That is, if you can bring Jane around to loving us again.”
“I will do my best, sister.”
“Be grateful you don’t have to apologize to Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” Louisa chortled. “I shall see you this evening at dinner.”
“Louisa!” She called her sister back.
“Yes?”
“Where did we go wrong? How did he fall into the clutches of the Bennet family?”
“I’m going to assume you mean Charles and not Mr. Darcy.” At her nod Louisa continued. “We underestimated his feelings for Jane. After almost a year he loved her still, if not more than when we quit Netherfield Park. That is true love and there is no stopping it. We must accept and move on. You must accept and move on. No good will come from dwelling in the land of ‘what if’. Reconcile with Jane and be done with it.”
“It’s not that easy. I can’t stand the fact they are throwing their lives away.”
“I have come to terms with their upcoming nuptials. You are the only person in this family who objects to their marriages. Jane is a sweet girl and will make Charles happy and after that incident at Pemberley this past summer, Darcy only tolerated us for the sake of his friendship with Charles.”
“What incident?” She couldn’t stop the haughty tone permeating her words.
“Don’t be obtuse. You know exactly what you did and you failed then as you have failed now. I have no time for a re-hashing of your grievances; I shall see you at dinner.”
Caroline remained seated after Louisa departed, a bit shocked that her sister was aware of an embarrassing incident during their last visit at Pemberley in late August. The fact Charles relayed a portion of what occurred between her and Darcy was undeniable. That he’d not shared the complete truth was also undeniable. She turned her head sharply, raised her chin to the soft sunlight pouring through the window and closed her eyes tight, willing the tears threatening to course down her cheeks to stay put. She would rise above this. She had to.
~~~ooo0ooo~~~
Caroline stifled a small yawn behind her fan. The play Lord Waverly, the Marquis of Dorchester invited Louisa, Mr. Hurst and her to attend was a roaring bore. The only thing keeping her from nodding off to sleep was the company they were in.
The Marquis had a private box at The Theatre-Royal – Covent Garden which seated six. Along with her family and the Marquis, the other two guests were Lady Susan Cruikshank and Sir Reginald Slade.
To be in such esteemed company filled her with deep satisfaction. More than one lady and gentleman glanced their way throughout the evening making her glad she’d worn her newest gown, cut in the latest fashion in her favorite color of burnt amber. She learned long ago that given her red hair and green eyes, bold colors were needed to bring them to life.
If only the Marquis would cease doting on the non-descript Lady Susan, who paled in comparison to the wit and vivacity she brought to the party. Having been relegated to the back row of the private box with her sister and husband, she’d been unable to miss the Marquis lean intimately toward her ear during the performance, or how often Sir Reginald panted for attention from the other side.
What were they so enraptured by other than the fact she was titled? While Lady Susan’s dress was excellently made, it was nothing more than a glorified day dress. All blues and white with small pink flowers embroidered along the hem. And the poor freckled face dear had no dowry what-so-ever to recommend herself with, only ten thousand pounds. A paltry sum when compared to her own twenty thousand. What did the insipid Susan Cruikshank have that she lacked?
The interval bell rang and the whole party made their way to the salon where refreshments were offered. She found herself on the arm of Sir Reginald, who almost broke into a trot in order to keep up with the Marquis. He, at least, escorted Lady Susan in a reasonable fashion, not pulling her along as though she were some child’s toy.
When Sir Reginald tugged her arm once more in an effort to hurry her along, she decided she’d had enough of this dog and pony show and halted in the middle of the room near a large column. When her arm extended as far as it could go, she released his. He advanced a few more steps before realizing she was no longer attached, but rather, behind him.
“Miss Bingley?” He had the grace to look a bit embarrassed, though not for long. His head quickly swiveled in search of the Marquis and Lady Susan.
“Sir Reginald, may I wait for you here?”
“Yes, Miss Bingley.” She became piqued at his look of relief. Was her company that revolting? “I shall return post haste with some refreshing lemonade.”
Before she could utter ‘no thank you’, or ask for something more bracing, he’d moved through the growing crowd toward the Marquis. Louisa and Mr. Hurst arrived and stood beside her.
“Your escort stranded you already?” Louisa queried with apparent glee. “Is he in love with Lady Susan as well?”
Caroline nodded in assent. Both Lord Waverly and Sir Reginald were chasing the same fox. She’d seen this sort of besotted behavior with Charles when he first laid eyes on the angelic Miss Jane Bennet. If Lady Susan were smart, she’d keep the Marquis close and cut Sir Reginald loose. At least, that’s what she would do.
Lord Waverly had several estates, along with his house in London and appeared to have a nice steady income from his holdings. Yes, he would do nicely, if only he’d get his head out of the cloud of bubbles encircling the effervescent Lady Susan long enough to notice her. Not for the first time she railed at the fact she’d spent three years pursuing Mr. Darcy. What a colossal waste of time that turned out to be.
“Caroline,” Louisa interrupted her thoughts. “Do you see who’s here?”
Her sister nodded in the direction of the refreshment area and she craned her neck to see above the crowd. There were times when she was grateful for the extra few inches of height God deemed fit to bestow upon her.
“Whom are you speaking of?”
“The Duke of Adborough,” she hissed. “I heard he’s arrived in London for the late Season. Many a frantic mama will be vying for his attention for their darling daughters. The poor man.”
“Poor!” Caroline snorted. “His duchy is more valuable than Darcy’s estate. There is nothing poor about the Duke of Adborough.”
“I meant the tigresses encircling the poor man, looking for an opening.”
“Louisa, you’ve been reading too many adventure novels. Pray tell, which one is he?”
“There, he wears the deep blue and ivory redingote.”
Caroline glanced over to where two men stood. One wore deep blue, the other dressed in black. Both were handsome in face and their physical build caused her heart to trip along faster than normal. She should have been more attracted to the Duke, as he was single and in want of a good wife, but the other man with his dark tousled hair and broad shoulders caused a tiny rift of excitement to course through her veins. Never had she felt this way about a man and it was disconcerting.
She struggled to keep herself from staring, but found her gaze returning to the two men time and time again. If only someone of consequence were here to introduce them, then maybe this small obsession with a person she’d never met would cease.
~~~ooo0ooo~~~
“You seem to have an admirer.” Nathan said in a low voice to his brother.
“Dare I ask whom?” Max glanced around the room, apparently seeing no one he knew.
“A fiery red haired vixen, standing near the column.”
How could his brother not have noticed her? The minute she’d entered the room on Sir Reginald’s arm, he’d been intrigued. When Sir Reginald abandoned her, he fought the urge to approach the mysterious siren who beckoned like a flaming ember in the midst of mediocrity. It was then he noted that she, and the lady standing beside her, showed a marked interest in Max. He may as well have been standing on the moon for all the notice sent his way.
Taking his time, Max glanced in their general direction and a grin threatened to break across his face. He swiftly turned so the young lady wouldn’t see.
“I think you need to have your eyes checked, brother. The beauty is not looking at me, but has her attention fixed upon you.”
“What?” Nathan gave a start. He was unused to anyone paying him attention, at least not in London where Debrett’s Peerage ranked alongside the Holy Bible as required reading. He cast another side long glance at the woman and noted that indeed she darted furtive glances at him and was not looking too happy about it.
“Adborough!”
Both Nathan and Max turned and watched as the Marquis of Dorchester approached, a young lady upon his arm. Behind them trailed Sir Reginald, whom Nathan knew from his Season in London four years ago.
“Waverly, what a pleasant surprise.” Max gave the Marquis a polite nod.
“I’d heard you were back in Town. May I present my friend, Lady Susan Cruikshank, the Earl of Tenyham’s daughter, and of course you both know Sir Reginald.”
Lady Susan executed a perfect curtsy and Sir Reginald gave both brothers a polite nod.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Susan.” Max said and turned to Nathan. “And this is my brother, Lord Nathan.”
Nathan greeted them with all politeness and took note with some interest, the beautiful woman he and his brother discussed approached, the other lady and gentleman in tow.
Waverly detected them at the same time and hastened them over.
“Adborough, these are my acquaintances, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and Mrs. Hurst’s sister, Miss Bingley.”
Nathan registered two things almost instantaneously. First, Waverly introduced the three strangers as mere acquaintances where Lady Susan received the nod as a friend. Second, the name of the beauty was Bingley. What were the odds the two sisters were the very ones related to Mr. Bingley, friend of Mr. Darcy? Before he could comment, Mrs. Hurst dropped a deep curtsy and upon rising tittered, “I am most honored to meet you, Your Grace.”
Her supercilious tone and false manners grated. With one sentence Mrs. Hurst showed herself to be a social climber of the highest degree. He’d seen this type of behavior toward their father his whole life. Given Max’s cool reception to her fawning, he realized his brother was also aware of this fact.
The sister, Miss Bingley, noted their demeanor and although she also curtseyed in greeting them, her tone retained a more modest quality. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.” She turned emerald green eyes upon Nathan, her cheeks flushing a becoming shade of pink, “And you as well, sir.”
At least Miss Bingley acknowledged him. The sister was apparently still too much in awe from meeting a Duke to greet him. He returned her curtsy with a polite bow and murmured. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Bingley.”
Waverly and his brother entered into a conversation about the latest happenings in Parliament and Sir Reginald focused his attention solely on Lady Susan, whose outward behavior was all politeness but not overly warm. He deduced her charms were being saved for Lord Waverly.
Mrs. Hurst listened with rapt attention to his brother’s conversation as her husband had removed himself to the refreshment area. He wished her luck in deciphering what they droned on about. Parliamentary business was a large pendulum swinging from the atrocious to the tedious, and he was glad that was Max’s cross to bear.
He turned his attention to Miss Bingley, standing quietly beside him.
“Are you enjoying the play, Miss Bingley?”
“Yes. I haven’t been to a play in such a long time I’d forgotten how diverting they can be.”
“Have you been among savages, Miss Bingley, that you’ve not enjoyed the pleasures of London? Maybe a dangerous journey to the deepest, darkest jungle?”
Her reply was a combination of an elegant sniff and a cynical laugh.
“No savages, Lord Nathan, although it seemed that way at the time”
“Do you live in Town or are you here only for the Season?”
“I am with my sister and her husband at present. Our brother is purchasing an estate in Hertfordshire and I may impose myself on him some time in the future.”
At the mention of Hertfordshire his assumption was solidified these two ladies were indeed Mr. Charles Bingley’s sisters. About the comment on meeting her brother, the bell rang for the second half of the play. There was no time to continue their conversation, but he knew he would be seeing her in Derbyshire within the next few weeks.
“I must take my leave, Miss Bingley.” He reached for her gloved hand and maintaining intimate eye contact, gave her a gallant bow. “I look forward to seeing you again.”
In that instant, holding her slight hand in his, he had the insane desire to pull her into a quiet room and kiss her inviting, full lips. Something in his demeanor must have relayed itself, because her eyes widened and she gasped softly. Ashamed by his physical reaction to a virtual stranger, he released her hand and straightened to his full height. There was a time in his life when he would have pursued her relentlessly, seeking only physical pleasure, but he was a new creation in Christ and those ways were gone.
With a polite nod he left the group and waited for his brother in their private box. Inadvertently his eyes scanned the boxes until he found the Marquis’ and watched Miss Bingley take her seat. Within seconds their eyes met across the theater and just as quick she averted her gaze to the stage and even though the distance was great, Nathan noted her cheeks flame a deep red.
Without a single word being spoken, he knew she was deeply interested in him and for some reason that gave him an immense feeling of satisfaction. The interest was mutual, but before he pursued the beautiful Miss Bingley, or any woman for that matter, he needed to spend time in prayer. His responsibilities as a man of God meant his partner in life had to share the same passion and he wouldn’t move forward unless God gave him peace about it.
“There are times I hate coming to Town.” Max settled in the chair next to him. “Tonight is no exception. It was bad enough when I was the heir apparent, but now that I have the title, complete strangers think they can toady up and be my best friend.”
“I see Mrs. Hurst made an impression.”
“How is it possible to set one’s teeth on edge over a simple greeting? Yet she managed to do so beautifully. Thank goodness we never have to see them again.”
Nathan stifled a chuckle. He was about to burst his brother’s happy bubble with his next statement and twisted in his chair so he could see Max’s face when he did.
“That is where you are wrong. They are friends with one Fitzwilliam Darcy and the sisters of Mr. Charles Bingley who is getting married alongside the master of Pemberley. You will have to dance attendance to them for at least a week, as I suspect you are one of the invited guests.”
He almost laughed out loud at the look of chagrin which chased across Max’s face.
“Dash it all! I was looking forward to his wedding.” Max slumped back in his chair. Realizing others would notice his lack of decorum in such a public venue, he straightened and sat more erect. “Even in the semi dark, I can tell you are gaining much amusement from this.”
“Oh yes, I am indeed. I shall be busy with my flock, but you will have to converse with them, eat every meal with them—”
“You’ve made your point, little brother,” Max ground out between clenched teeth. “Of course, I shall use you as a perfect excuse to be absent for much of the festivities, and –” he held up a hand when Nathan attempted to interrupt “– you will gladly allow me to visit, every day if needed.”
“You are always welcome, Max. You don’t need to use me as an excuse.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather attend me at Pemberley?” Nathan wasn’t fooled by the dulcet tone his brother used. He was up to mischief, much like the old days. “Miss Bingley certainly had eyes only for you, which given the circumstances is surprising. Should I be offended? I am the better catch, even though I didn’t hold the fair maiden’s hand.”
“She certainly is beautiful.” He let the last comment slide and glanced once more to the Marquis’ box. Miss Bingley was being most attentive to her sister and seemed not to notice him looking her way. “I don’t know if I’ll call upon her.”
“If I know you, Nathan, you’ll spend much time in prayer before chasing any woman. You’ve become a changed man and your priorities are different than a few years ago. This is not a decision you will make lightly and there is nothing wrong with that.”
Nathan turned his attention away from the alluring Miss Bingley to his brother.
If it hadn’t been for Max, he may never have come to know the Lord as his Saviour. After he resigned his commission, he’d turned to gaming and drink in an effort to forget the atrocities of war. His licentious behavior with women was nothing to be proud of and his reputation as a Rake became firmly established.
After many months, Max finally dragged him out of White’s and confronted him. Broken and dissolute he’d confessed his sins and made the decision to join the church and attend seminary. Never would he forget his brother’s actions, or how he listened as Nathan purged his soul of all he’d witnessed and done in France. How he helped him find his peace again.
“If I’m a changed man, it’s because of you, Max,” Nathan said quietly.
“I may have led you to the Lord, but He was the one who changed your heart.” Max clapped him on the shoulder and then switched his attention back to the stage. “Now be quiet. The play is about to start. You can be maudlin tomorrow.”
“I have no time to be maudlin. Between appointments with the Archbishop and our solicitor, I am to meet with the brides to ensure the Church of England they are prepared for the holy estate of marriage.”
“Ugh, you sound like Father’s old vicar. Please don’t turn into a Mr. Power. He was a dreadful bore and absolutely no fun when invited over for Christmas punch.”
“He did have a sour countenance, didn’t he? Well, I have no intentions of being like the dour Mr. Power.” Both brothers chuckled at their childhood nickname for the somewhat resolute vicar. Nathan turned in his seat to face the stage. “Now, you be quiet. I want to enjoy the play.”
“Lord Little Brat.” Max teased, using his childhood nickname for Nathan.
“Lord Pompous Head.” Nathan returned with a smile as the first actor took to the stage below.