Chapter Ten
My dear Charles,
I’m so glad you’re having a wonderful time. Netherfield is so close to Longbourne—why, it’s almost like living in one’s mother-in-law’s lap, a thing that every young man dreams of, I am sure. How perfectly delightful for you.
I wanted to ask, if you do not think it a strange or impertinent question: What is it like to be in love?
Your devoted sister,
Caroline
By the time they had said their goodbyes and got into the carriage home, Caroline was bursting with impatience to give her opinion on everything and everyone she’d seen. The moment the door clicked shut, she gave voice to all her thoughts. “Are you not impressed with how well I held my tongue, Georgie? I said nothing of the terrible brown paint in the hallway, nor did I comment on how mismatched the furniture was in the parlour. And did you see the colour of those couches? Lord, they were absolutely dreadful.”
Instead of lavishing her with praise, Georgiana sat back, the contented look on her face vanishing in an instant. She regarded Caroline, her expression cool. “Are you really asking me to commend you for not openly insulting the home of a person who invited you to tea?”
“Well, I...” When put like that, it did sound rather impolite. Caroline stared out of the window as the small house receded from view. “You told me that I should not speak my every opinion aloud, an order which I dutifully accepted.” When she glanced back at Georgiana, she was surprised to see a muscle jumping in Miss Darcy’s jaw. “You needn’t look so upset. I did not actually say anything untoward, did I?”
“But you thought it.”
A sharp wave of disappointment swept Caroline’s jubilation away. “Are thoughts crimes?” she inquired. “I wasn’t aware that the law had changed.”
“Obviously not. But they did not remain thoughts, for you just spoke them aloud to me. Do not forget, Caroline, that you are speaking of a dear friend of mine. Did you imagine that your poor opinion of Miss Merryhill’s house would be well-received?”
In truth, Caroline had thought so; Georgiana did have functioning eyes, after all. “Are you saying that you think her house beautiful?”
Georgiana stared out of the window, her hands flexing in her lap. “I am saying that it would have behooved you to try to find something nice to say, regardless of your first impression.”
“Is that the standard of a perfect woman, then? To choose a pretty lie over an ugly truth? I thought you valued honesty more than that.”
To this, Georgiana made no reply.
“You are being impossible,” Caroline declared, already fed up with the conversation. “And you might consider the possibility that criticising me for what I did not do, rather than praising me for what I did do, is rather an inefficient way to teach good behaviour. When we left, I felt rather pleased with myself, but now I...” She swallowed. “You are not even applying your own lesson, if you cannot acknowledge even one good thing I did or said.”
The silence stretched on. Caroline’s skin prickled horribly, her stomach hot and tight with embarrassment and injustice.
“Mrs Darcy,” Georgiana said, her voice quiet but firm, “would never have spoken so.”
“Then she is a perfect fool!” Caroline cried, humiliation giving way to exasperation. “I am sure even your perfect Lizzy could not see the need to spend time with people like Miss Merryhill and her acquaintances. They are not of our particular circles and cannot advance us in any way.”
“That does not signify,” Georgiana snapped. “Kindness should not be dependent on what the other person can offer you but should be extended to all people regardless of class or social standing.”
“According to whom?” she retorted and was surprised to see hurt flash across Miss Darcy’s face.
“It is a truth generally held amongst those people who are considered to be upstanding members of society.”
The implication was that Caroline, who did not share this opinion, could therefore not be counted as an upstanding member of society. Stung, Caroline folded her arms across her chest and flopped against the hard backrest of the carriage.
“You act as if only the most superior in society are worth noticing,” Georgiana continued, “though they are simply a small group. The rest of the world may not be handsome or wealthy or well-connected but that does not make them any less deserving of respect. Or love. Does not the Bible say we ought to love all creatures great and small?”
Caroline changed tack, sensing that picking a fight with God as well would not be the most sensible decision in the present moment—one should avoid warring on two fronts at the same time. “Those Grimleys are absolutely unbearable. We shall agree on that at least. You cannot tell me that spending an hour or two in their company has improved me any as a person. If anything, it may have made me worse.”
“They may be a trifle tiresome at times,” Georgiana admitted, “but not nearly so much as you are making out. And they are good people at heart, who evidently adore each other very much. They do not deserve outright contempt.”
“Oh, Georgie, really! I am all astonishment! Did I not expand their happiness by suggesting a portrait? Did I utter a single unkind word in their presence?”
“You said you wanted to throw yourself out of the window,” Georgiana reminded her. “Or have you forgotten?”
“That was for your ears only,” she complained. “Am I not allowed even a single pithy aside? If so, life will hardly be worth living.”
