With so many in attendance, Caroline remained hopeful no one would take note of her slipping out of the ballroom. All she needed was a few uninterrupted moments of peace and quiet. Her thoughts were all jumbled after her dance with Lord Nathan.
She’d gone only a few paces when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she prepared to excuse herself.
“Forgive me, —Oh, it’s you.”
“Yes, it’s me.”
With the light from the flickering wall sconce behind him, Lord Nathan’s expression was nearly unreadable. She should have known. Only one person would disturb any sense of peace she hoped to find. He not only invaded her thoughts at inopportune times, but now he physically dogged her heels.
“Were you expecting someone else, Miss Bingley? Perchance the Marquis of Dorchester, or maybe even Mr. Darcy?”
“Keep your voice down. Someone may hear you and totally misconstrue what you are saying.” She darted a glance down the hall toward the open door to the ballroom.
He advanced, not stopping until he was close enough to loom over her, his mouth set in a grim line.
“I know for a fact the Marquis came this way only a few minutes ago. Immediately I ascertained you might follow and attempt to compromise him. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and you are feeling the pinch over where you will reside in the next few months.”
“I did no such thing,” she protested. The Marquis could have pranced by her in a bright red suit and she wouldn’t have noticed. All of her attention had been focused on the infuriating man before her, even when she’d danced with the charming Lord Waverly.
“Admit you followed him.”
“I. Admit. Nothing.”
The sound of voices from the ballroom reminded her of their precarious position and she pressed against the wall, determined to stay out of direct view from the doorway. Lord Nathan turned at the sound of those voices and then back at her.
“This won’t do. Come with me,” he said, shaking his head.
He placed a firm hand beneath her elbow and directed their steps down the hall. She attempted to pull her arm free, but he only tightened his grip. Other than calling for help and bring attention to the fact they were alone and unchaperoned, she had no other option than to walk with him.
They reached the music room and he guided her in, leaving the door open. She advanced a few steps and then whirled to face him, her temper simmering below the surface of other volatile sentiments she couldn’t quite put a finger on. He stood framed in the door and his gaze, inscrutable as always, pinned her in place like a captured butterfly.
“What? You look at me as though I have spots on my face.” A growl of frustration escaped her lips. “What are you looking at?”
“I’m waiting for horns to sprout through the top of your head.”
“You’re what? Horns? How could you...” she sputtered, unable to complete another sentence in light of his statement.
“Admit it, Miss Bingley. You sought to make an advantageous marriage, regardless of whom the groom was nigh unto three years. Your hope for Darcy has fled, so you look toward another.”
“I have done no such...” Her words trailed off as he stepped closer.
For a moment the only sound in the room was the soft swish of silk from her skirt as she retreated, stopping only when the pianoforte was at her back. He advanced until the edge of her skirt brushed the top of his shoes. She pressed further against the pianoforte and tried to glance over his shoulder. A wry smile lifted the corner of his firm lips when he noted her frantic look toward the door.
“No one will discover us, Miss Bingley. I shall say my piece and then leave.”
“You have nothing to say to me, other than to apologize.”
With defiance she lifted her chin, not willing to back down. She knew he would never harm her physically and other than that one near kiss... No. She wouldn’t dwell on that. He was a cad, a despicable cad, fooling people with his act of being a caring man of God.
“You deny that you attempted to compromise Mr. Darcy at the stables?”
“Yes!”
His left eyebrow arched at her emphatic answer.
“I witnessed you hiding in the stable when Mr. Darcy was in attendance, so I respectfully disagree with your reply.”
Her sole dedication for three years had been to attain a marriage proposal from Mr. Darcy and she could see why Lord Nathan thought she’d followed him to the stables. No one seemed to recognize she no longer held those expectations.
“Please allow me a moment to comprehend your motives,” she challenged. “You drag me into the library, unescorted, to chastise me about alleged attempts to not only compromise Mr. Darcy, but the Marquis of Dorchester as well? You are full of rich irony, Lord Nathan.”
“Enlighten me then as to why you crept so stealthily from the ballroom.”
“Crept? I have never crept anywhere in my life, even as a child.” Granted, she’d made sure no one noticed her withdrawing from the overcrowded room, exception being the annoying man standing before her, but that certainly didn’t qualify as creeping.
“I recall a certain incident in the stable. Had you forgotten that?”
“That is old news, Lord Nathan and we are not talking about it again.” A thought crossed her mind. How, in such a crush of people, had he witnessed her slip away? “Were you spying on me?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
“Not spying, merely interested when I noticed you leave shortly after the Marquis exited the room.”
“Where I go and what I do is none of your business. You are not my keeper.”
He pressed closer and her breath almost stuttered to a complete stop. Idly, he lifted his hand and curled the hair that spilled over her shoulder around his finger.
“Maybe I should be appointed as your keeper. You could use some direction in life.”
“And you have a wealth of experience in advising decent young woman?”
He lifted his hand and cupped her chin with long, lean fingers. Slowly his thumb swept across her mouth. Unbidden warmth spread beneath her skin as she recalled the last time they’d crossed respectable boundaries. She turned her head, her eyelids fluttering down.
That one movement was her undoing. With eyes tightly closed, her other senses took over. His utterly male fragrance danced beneath her nose. Crisp and clean with a hint of shaving cream and sandalwood. No man had ever stood so close, his very nearness creating a shocking intimacy and her heart thrummed in anticipation of his next advance.
“I have a wealth of experience in ways you couldn’t begin to fathom. I was a Rake, Miss Bingley, a man who thought nothing of seducing little girls like you.” The heat of his breath brushed the shell of her ear and his fingers continued to toy with her lock of hair. “I would sweep them into my arms and kiss them until nothing existed for them except me.”
Without thought she turned her head back toward him and their lips inadvertently touched for one searing second. He recoiled as though burned and stepped back to a respectable distance. Instantly she missed the heat of his body and fought a strange desire to boldly follow his retreat, to press her body against his.
“Please forgive me. My actions are unconscionable,” he forced through stiff lips.
Anger and pride fought for purchase of her feelings. As he turned to leave the room, anger won the day and she called out to him in her most haughty voice.
“Who are you to say these things to me?”
Slowly he faced her, his grey eyes turning the color of frosty steel.
“My actions once again contradict my character. You may choose not to believe what I say, but I am a man who prays you find your path to happiness and contentment.” He turned to walk away and then, as if he’d had another thought, turned around. “Take care who you entice with your beauty and wealth. The next man to find you alone in a hallway may take more from you than one kiss.”
He executed a tight bow and exited. It wasn’t until after he left the room that she realized she still held her fingers against her lips because once again they felt as though they’d been branded.
~~~ooo0ooo~~~
After a night of tossing and turning, sleeping only fitfully, Caroline took her time walking to the breakfast room, allowing her mind to travel where it willed. Inevitably, it chose the path that led straight to Lord Nathan.
She sighed and then chided herself. That’s all she seemed to do this morning, at regular intervals, as though she had scheduled them. What on earth was wrong with her? She shook her head, already knowing the answer. She would not think of him. Not again, and sighed.
The clock chimed the ninth hour as she turned toward the breakfast room. With luck, someone other than the Bennet ladies would be in attendance. She desperately needed more conversation than ribbons, hats and red-coated officers of the militia. As luck would have it, Georgiana was already seated. With relief she noted there was no one else in the bright, hexagonal shaped room.
“Good morning, Georgiana.” Caroline made her way to where four chafing dishes awaited. She moved down the sideboard, preparing her plate.
“Good morning, Caroline,” Georgiana replied and dropped a dollop of clotted cream onto her scone.
She had an air of excitement about her and kept glancing toward the door, as though expecting someone. For a brief moment Caroline’s heart skipped a beat, wondering if Lord Nathan may join them, but discarded the idea as quickly as it arose. He was not a guest at Pemberley, therefore would not be breaking his fast with any of them. Not that she wanted him to see him again. She sighed.
She’d just sat at the table when Darcy joined them.
“Good morning, Fitz.” Georgiana’s excitement seemed to reach fever pitch and Caroline was reminded of a golden retriever pup from her childhood, forever wiggling and scrambling, waiting for someone, anyone, to throw a stick to chase.
“Good morning, Georgiana. Miss Bingley.” He moved down the sideboard and prepared his own plate before joining them at the table. A footman carefully poured them both a cup of tea before retreating back against the damask clad wall.
“May I ask her now?”
“Georgiana, maybe Miss Bingley would like to break her fast before you pounce on her with your idea.” Although his voice sounded stern, Caroline noted a glint of humor in his hazel eyes.
“I do believe I’m capable of eating and conversing at the same time,” Caroline stated, and added a lump of sugar to her tea.” I’ve been given to understand it’s an acceptable activity at the dining table, as long as I don’t talk with food in my mouth. Kings and Queens have been doing it for years, I’m told.”
“I forgot what a wit you are, Miss Bingley,” came Darcy’s droll response. “You may wish to revisit that observation after my sister has spoken with you.”
“Once I’ve had my requisite cup of tea, I can face anything.” She afforded a small wink at Georgiana, who readily smiled at her in return.
She enjoyed this comradery. For so long she’d relentlessly pursued Darcy and never relaxed in his company. Also, for the past year, most of their conversations, or rather her extraneous monologues had been to vilify Miss Elizabeth Bennet. No wonder he’d avoided her presence. She’d been a veritable shrew. Now, confident in her new tentative friendship with Elizabeth as well as Georgiana, she rather enjoyed this informal tête-à-tête.
The young woman managed to wait until the last drop of tea had been drunk and her plates whisked away before she broached the subject that had her feet tapping beneath the table in nervousness.
“Now, darling Georgiana,” she said after daintily dabbing the corner of her mouth with a linen napkin. “What has you in such a dither?”
Darcy lifted his newspaper higher and hid behind it. That he didn’t want to interfere yet wanted to be in the room when his sister posed her question was irrefutable and she wondered what the two of them had cooked up.
“Miss Bingley – Caroline – as you know my companion, Mrs. Annesley has been called to care for her dear mother and we don’t know when she’ll return. I wondered... I mean, I’d like...” She trailed off and glanced at the newspaper Darcy still held. “Help me, Fitz.”
He lowered half the newspaper and levelled a firm look at her. “Oh no, poppet, this is your request.” The paper went back up in front of his face.
Georgiana fidgeted for a few seconds more, then said in one big rush, “Would you be my guest, here at Pemberley, until Fitz and Elizabeth return from their wedding trip?”
Completely flummoxed, Caroline stared at Georgiana, and then remembered to close her mouth which she was sure had fallen open in surprise. Gaping at the breakfast table was not exactly genteel. Of all things she could have imagined, and she had imagined a lot in her life, this had never crossed her mind. She wouldn’t have to leave Pemberley and be tossed on the street by Louisa. At least, not yet.
“This is a surprise, Georgiana,” she replied slowly, her mind scampering in a dozen different directions. “May I give you my answer later in the day?”
She longed to say yes right away, and although her heart leaped with joy at having a reprieve from worrying about where she would lay her head, she needed to think about this proposition most thoroughly.
“Oh yes, Miss – Caroline. I shall await your answer.” Georgiana gave her an unguarded smile, the first one she’d seen in over a year. “I do hope you’ll say yes.”
“Mmmm... Well...” Her mind took a different tack. By staying at Pemberley, she would also be in close proximity to Lord Nathan. She placed the linen napkin on the table, unaware she’d twisted it completely out of shape. “I shall go check on my vicar; she should be awake by now.”
“Don’t you mean your sister?”
She frowned at Georgiana’s strange question. Wasn’t that what she just said? She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard the stuffy Mr. Darcy harrumph. How odd.
Caroline knocked on the door to Louisa and Robert’s suite. Lately, her sister had a hard time rising in the morning, complaining of severe nausea and an inability to keep anything down save weak tea and stale crackers.
Slowly she opened the door and was greeted by the sight of Louisa still in her bed, her nightcap slightly askew. Her pallid complexion confirmed that she’d had another difficult morning. Although her sister had spitefully told her she was no longer welcome in her home, it hurt Caroline’s heart to see Louisa in such dire straits. She pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat.
“I wish there was something I could do for you.”
“Would you carry this child for me?” Despite her weakened condition, Louisa smiled.
“That would require me to have a husband, of which the choices are few and far between, plus, I haven’t been asked.”
“Don’t worry, my dear sister. We shall soon return to London and in a few months the Season shall begin. I’m sure there’s a nice Baron or knighted gentleman who would love to have you for his wife.” Louisa picked up a cracker and bit into it, grimacing as she chewed.
“Have you forgotten?”
“Forgotten what?”
“You informed me, in no uncertain terms, I was no longer welcome at your home. You wanted my suite of rooms for the nursery.”
Louisa set down the cracker and tears formed in her eyes. Weeping easily had become another small foible of her pregnancy.
“Of course you shall remain with us until you marry. I was grouchy and angry for reasons I don’t remember when I said that. Can you forgive me?”
“Yes, but I may not return immediately.”
Louisa stopped with a cracker half way to her mouth.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Miss Darcy has invited me to be her companion while Darcy is away on his wedding trip. She wishes me to remain with her until they return.”
“Oh. Does this mean you won’t be with me to prepare for the baby?”
Dismayed, Caroline realized she’d never given the baby a single thought. What kind of sister was she?
“Of course I shall be there for you. It’s only for three months and there will be plenty of time before your newest addition arrives.”
“Oh, Caroline,” Louisa reached for her hands, her red rimmed eyes brimming with fresh tears. “I don’t know if I could go through this without you by my side. You are always so level headed and keep me centered.”
Mild shock held her still. Never once in all her life had her sister given such a compliment. She knew she was the more forthright of the two of them, but to be thought of in this manner by her elder sister brought a strange tightness to her chest.
What a sight they’d be if she began crying alongside her sister. Louisa hiccupped back a sob and right then, she decided she didn’t care and hugged her sister close while indulging in a few happy tears herself. Once again, she found herself in need of the Steward of the Linen Cupboard and fervently wished Charles were there to complete their tight little circle.