“Not proper British make?” Elizabeth laughed. “It suits you very well.”
“I owe you for that — I cannot believe it tooksolong for you to convince me that orange does not suit my complexion — let me see you.”
At the order Elizabeth spun around to show Caroline how she appeared, as she laughingly said, “Notquiteso fashionable as you.”
“If only you spent more time in Town! This next season you must stay with us two months entire.”
“Oh no! I can hardly take London in doses that are measured by words greater than ‘weeks’.” So saying, Elizabeth studied Caroline.
She looked happy and in good spirits — though the paleness of her friend, which resulted from Caroline’s assiduous attention to avoiding damage to her milky white skin from the sun, had always struck Elizabeth as being on the edge of unhealthiness. Elizabeth had missed her. While they were devoted correspondents, posting reams and reams of paper when apart, the written word lacked the vividness and the intensity of life.
Perhaps Elizabeth was still used to the way that they had always been looked after in the same room as children, playing together in the library of the Bennets’ townhouse in Manchester while Papa pored over his sketches and drawings of machines and engineering diagrams to improve the devices upon which the great fortune that he and Uncle Bingley, as Elizabeth had always known Caroline’s father, were building.
Caroline was quite as pretty as anyone Elizabeth knew, except of course Jane, and no one needed to despair over not reachingJanein looks. Caroline made a fetching figure: Clear alabaster skin, bright blue eyes, ample piles of papillote curls made out of her naturally straight auburn hair, a few artfully stray hairs falling around her cheeks, and a red lipped smile.
With a grin, Elizabeth predicted what Caroline would say toher.
Caroline clucked like a motherly hen, “Brown and freckled. Again! How many times must I recommend you not spend so much time in the sun — especially in the summer!”
“You shall need to recommend many more times before I shall listen,” Elizabeth replied with a dimpled smile.
“Oh, if only I could dimple like you do! I would die of happiness. Dimples will be all the rage next season. Lady Amelia told me. And your eyes — you are so pretty, it is a pity that you are always so unfashionably brown! If I had eyes like yours…” Caroline sighed.
“You sly creature.” Elizabeth laughed and made them both sit. Mrs. Hill brought in the tea and biscuits on the silver tray as they settled. “I can only reply the truth, which is that every man will be your slave upon seeing you, and that withyourcomplexion, which is a milky perfection, you shall never fear an empty slot upon your dance card. There — you succeeded in gaining your compliment.”
Caroline pushed her arm. “No, no! ‘Twas not my aim. I do hope though… that well…”
The way that she trailed off significantly was amply informative between two such friends. Elizabeth exclaimed with high-pitched delight, “Aha! There is a particular gentleman whose enslavement you hope to complete! I knew it from your letters.”
Caroline blushed. “I can only hope.”
“Now who is it — no let me guess.”
“Do not guess, I beg you.”
Elizabeth pouted.
“I shall simply tell you — but I am so scared when I think about it. As I can hardly determine hissentiments towards me.”
“If he is not a fool he will see that you like him, and then as the natural consequent he will like you.”
“Oh, do you think? I wish—” Caroline sighed and pressed her hand against her cheek. “Yes, but he issovery handsome. He is quite feted everywhere he goes. But Iamhopeful.”
“Now you told me not to guess, but I noted in your letters that you spoke of acertainfriend of your brother’s whose estate you visited this summer in aparticularway. Now speak if I am wrong.”
With a blush, Caroline said, “I cannot hide anything from you.”
“At least you musttryif you hope to hide! Those references to Mr. D — and the praise you heaped upon hissisterin your letters. I would have gone quite jealous of your affection had I not suspected the true cause — this Mr. D— he is to stay with Charles now that your brother is settled in Netherfield?”
“Yes, for a month or two. At least six weeks is projected upon.” Caroline hugged her arms and shivered. “I am so nervous. I say the silliest things when I am in the room with him. And he is so… certain. Calm about everything. It is impossible to know what he thinks.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Mr. Darcy, is that not the family name signified by the ‘D’?”
“Yesssss.” Caroline sighed longingly, as though all the happiness in the world was contained in that name.
Elizabeth herself sighed, with the most miniscule and mild spot of jealousy.
She was already past her twentieth birthday, and she had yet to ever even fancy herself in love.
