Chapter Seven
My dearest Caroline,
I hope this finds you the picture of health and happiness. We are already having the most splendid time, and we have not even left Meryton yet! I do so love being around a large family—Jane and I are both of the opinion that a sizable brood of our own would be a wonderful thing. Mrs Bennet is extremelyferventvehementconscientious about the happiness of all her children, which must be admired as one of the great traits of motherhood. I have been shooting with Mr Bennet twice, though neither of us had much success.
I look forward to meeting Darcy and continuing our journey, as I thinkMiss ElizabethMrs Darcy must be missing him so very much. I know if I were to be parted from my sweet Jane for even a moment, it would be hard, yet the idea of our meeting again after a period of longing would be so sweet that I confess myself torn between the two. Oh, how wondrous strange love is!
Please send my best wishes to Georgiana. Such a sweet girl. I am so glad that you have become friends.
Your devoted brother,
Charles
A red-haired maid held out a silver tray as the ladies finished breaking their fast. “A letter for Miss Bingley, ma’am,” the girl said, performing a neat, if rather shallow, curtsey.
For a moment, Caroline froze, half-expecting a follow-up from her mother, but the address on the front had been written in an effusive, rounded hand which she recognised in an instant. “Charles,” she said, in answer to Georgiana’s questioning look. “Look, even his alphabet is unbearably cheerful.”
Georgiana snorted before requesting more tea. The maid curtseyed again, much deeper this time, and trotted off to fulfill the order while the ladies made their way into the library. Despite Caroline’s complaints about the worn upholstery the day before, she found herself rather glad of it now. Nothing at Hadley Hall would ever be permitted to remain long enough to endure the rigours of daily life, which meant that nothing from Caroline’s younger years had survived to wax nostalgic about. Not even her precious dolls, which had been given away without her consent and replaced with more stylish ones as soon as her mother saw fit to do so. Appearances, after all, were everything, while attachments were only temporary.
“What says your brother?” Georgiana asked.
Caroline unfolded the letter, cleared her throat, and began to perform a perfect impression of Charles, which had Georgiana in actual tears by the end. “The fool,” she said fondly,folding the letter back up. “Mrs Bennet could stand over him in the marital bedchamber, issuing the sternest and most detailed instructions, and he’d only smile and thank her for all her maternal attentiveness.”
“Caroline, really!” Georgiana dissolved into another helpless fit of giggles. “He is not that bad.” She had said nothing further about the letter from Mrs Bingley during breakfast, for which Caroline was grateful, and apologised now before disappearing afterwards for a couple of hours, reappearing in the parlour mid-morning with ink-stained hands that had evidently already been scrubbed repeatedly. Georgiana did not explain the state of her hands, but neither did she complain when Caroline asked to take a turn around the garden. Caroline had spent the morning alone, accompanied only by two slices of Mrs Addlecombe’s delicious fruitcake; the taste of candied lemon peel, both bitter and sweet at once, lingered in her mouth as they strolled down the path towards a cluster of rosebushes.
“We ought to discuss the next stage of the Great Endeavour,” Caroline said.
“You read my mind. I was engaged with the scheme all morning.” Georgiana waggled both hands at Caroline, though the ink stains were now hidden by beautiful white gloves.
“Really? In what manner?”
“Writing letters to my acquaintances to discover what balls and parties are forthcoming over the next month.” She flashed a satisfied look at Caroline. “I am certain that you will find suitors enough at such events. Therefore, we ought to work now on your... on those traits which you feel you may be lacking. Particularly your sweetness and your humility. You shall have a chance to practice them this afternoon.”
“I do not recall that I mentioned anything about my humility,” Caroline said, sensing a trap. “Which, in any case, I— Wait, what do you mean? Where are we going?”
“You must have forgotten,” Georgiana said, as they rounded a corner, “that I promised you an outing. Or else you would have already harangued me about where and when we were going.”
It took Caroline a moment to remember what she was talking about. “Oh, the outing!” she exclaimed. “Why, yes, I did forget.”
“You astonish me,” Georgiana teased. “What happened to all your enthusiasm for the Grand Endeavour?”
“The Great Endeavour,” Caroline corrected. “Although I’m sure it will also be grand. I was merely a little distracted this morning, but my commitment to the Great Endeavour never wavered, I assure you.”
Miss Darcy’s gaze softened. Not wishing to be pitied, Caroline rushed on, “Are you going to tell me now? Withholding details of an outing is not merely cruel, it is impractical. I must know our destination in order to decide how best to dress. Will what I am wearing now suffice, or ought I change?”
“If I tell you, then you may decide for yourself. We shall take the carriage and call upon a friend of mine, Miss Beatrice Merryhill,” Georgiana said. “In my opinion, the visit will require nothing more than an ordinary dress, so you need not go to any—”
“Merryhill?” Caroline screwed up her face. “I never heard you mention the name before.” She caught sight of Georgiana’s expression and quickly corrected her own, smoothing it out into a passably civil one.A completely ridiculous name, and no doubt a completely ridiculous person,she thought.Surely none ofthe gentry have ever been calledMerryhill.“And where precisely does she live?”
Georgiana hesitated. “Why do you ask?”
“I am merely ascertaining the location, geographically speaking. A question confirming facts, nothing more.” Nothing could be further from the truth. If she knew the name of the estate, she would be able to glean several important details which would furnish her with enough interesting topics to keep the conversation going. There were several large estates nearby, though as far as Caroline had been aware, none of them had been let out to anyone with such a silly name.
Georgiana’s expression had gone carefully blank, exactly the sort of look she wore at balls and parties while moving through a crowd of people. “She lives on the outskirts of the village, in the house across from the church. Is that a problem for you?”
Caroline bit her lip. She could not bring such a house to mind immediately, but she knew exactly the sort of place it was: small, ugly, inhabited by those with neither fortune nor status. Mrs Bingley had always impressed upon her children the need to appear only in exalted company, and never to mix with any of the lower classes, far less visit any of their houses. One did not simply call upon the peasants. “Poverty is not catching, is it?”
It was only half a jest.
