“Pleasure may take many forms.” Miss Darcy shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “One might argue that it is a pleasure to behave as a young lady ought.”
“You are not addressing the royal court, Georgie. You may be honest with me.” Caroline glanced at her. “Perhaps you should learn to speak truth, as I have learned to utter kindness.”
“Swimming, then,” Miss Darcy murmured. “Fencing. Riding—not sidesaddle, as a lady should, but galloping with Swift as if the devil himself is after me. Though I admit that these pleasures are difficult to indulge in here in Derbyshire, where everyone knows me, for I have a family reputation to uphold. And uphold it I shall.”
Caroline’s reply was cut short by the approach of her third dance partner. “Shall we, Miss Bingley?” he asked, extending a hand.
She nodded and let him lead her out onto the dance floor, trying to recall every detail about him. He had been standing with the captain of the local militia during Fitzwilliam’s party, though he had not been a military man himself.Stanhope, she thought.No, Stanwick. Or isitStanley? Something like that, anyway.
“And how do you know Captain St. John?” she inquired, a question which kept her partner busy and herself tolerably entertained for the next few minutes while they waited to dance down the set.
Her eyes flitted back to Georgiana, who was talking with some animation to a girl of perhaps eight-and-ten in a grey dress that did absolutely nothing for her rosy complexion. Caroline recognised the man standing between them as Mr Warwick, who had been so keen for Georgiana to play at Darcy’s party, therefore the girl must be his daughter, Emmeline. She was making a poor show of hiding her interest in Mr Acton, who was standing across the ballroom and chatting with Miss Merryhill. Perhaps this was a new way in which Caroline might flex the muscle of kindness, which she had so recently grown into a substantial bulge. Biting back a smile at the thought, she waited for a lull in the conversation before artfully dropping in the mention of Miss Warwick to her partner.
“I had not the pleasure of meeting her at the last party,” she said, “for if I recall correctly, she was suffering from a head cold.”
“Ah yes.” His smile brightened. “A lovely girl indeed, and very accomplished.”
“Miss Darcy talks of her in glowing terms. And you know, it is the hope of all young ladies to dance with a handsome man of an evening. Perhaps Mr Acton might do his gentlemanly duty, if you were to introduce them? I do not think it would be a hardship to indulge such a pretty girl.”
Mr Stanley—or Stanhope?—raised an eyebrow at her. “I take you for a clever woman, Miss Bingley. To my eyes, Mr Acton has not noticed a girl twenty years his junior, nor is he likely to with Miss Merryhill by his side. Why, then, do you seek to introduce him to another?”
“He has not yet danced,” Caroline said, ensuring that she kept pace.Turn, turn, hop, turn again.“Nor has he pursued the quarry which would most like to be caught. Therefore, I must surmise that he has no enthusiasm for the hunt. Or perhaps it is courage he lacks.”
“He is not a rich man,” her partner said, evidently keen to gossip. “Poor men marry in haste and repent at leisure. Although, I have heard that he has recently been commissioned by a man who could change Mr Acton’s fortunes if he should continue to paint well. Viscount Ashbrook, if my intelligence is correct.”
Ashbrook had been at the lake picnic, Caroline recalled.I knew Irecognisedthe name!The bubble of her satisfaction was immediately popped by also recalling that she had thought the handsome viscount looked like Georgiana.Perhaps I do have a type, she thought grimly. “It is my experience, sir,” said she, as they whirled around the floor, “that a suitor who is reluctant to make his attentions known to a lady, for one reason or another, often cannot help doing so when another suitor shows those same attentions openly.”
“That is a sentiment well observed.” Mr Stan-whatever gaveher a shrewd look. “Well, I am all for creating a ruckus from time to time. Keeps life interesting, does it not? If you have a scheme in mind, I shall act my part in it.”
“Introduce Miss Warwick to Mr Acton, then ask Miss Merryhill to dance,” she suggested.
“Bold indeed.” He chuckled. “This plan may misfire. What if Mr Acton falls for the girl? What if Miss Merryhill falls in love with me?”
“Then I suppose we shall all have our answers, one way or another. Is it not said that he who dares, wins?”
“But is it not also said,” her partner countered, bowing as the dance came to an end, “that one must look before they leap?”
“In my opinion, that rather depends,” Caroline said archly, unable to help another glance at Georgiana, who had joined Mr Acton and Miss Merryhill, “on where one is currently standing and where one intends to land.”
They parted with a smile, and Caroline joined the small group. She hardly heard what was said between them, for an unfamiliar feeling of trepidation had come over her. What if Mr Stan-whatever was right? One could never predict the precise effects of one’s intervention. It was too late to alter the plan, however, for the next moment her dance partner came bustling over with a blushing Miss Warwick. The introductions were made, the invitation extended and accepted, albeit with some evident bafflement on Mr Acton’s part. Miss Merryhill took to the floor, glancing back over her shoulder at the artist, who wore a look of consternation as he escorted a chattering Miss Warwick.
“Are you playing matchmaker now?” Georgiana murmured, brushing Caroline’s elbow with a gloved hand. “Or playing with fire?”
“They are often one and the same, I think.” She crossed herarms, the movement hiding her right hand, which stroked down Georgiana’s arm. Her glove prevented her from feeling bare skin, but the way Georgiana shivered was unmistakable. “I told you that I see more than most, did I not?”
“Perhaps you see what you want to see,” Miss Darcy said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Just like everyone else.”
“Then show me what I am missing,” Caroline said, surprising herself with the urgency in her own voice. Her fingers itched to reach out again, to turn Georgiana towards her and shake some good sense into her. “Show me what you hide from the world, Georgie. Let me be the one who—”
Miss Darcy was saved from having to respond by the approach of a young man whose cherubic face was not at all aged by the bushy whiskers adorning his chin and rosy cheeks. He expressed his desire to become Caroline’s fourth partner, and she confirmed her readiness to dance the next cotillion with a forced smile, hoping he would go away until then, but the man lingered, evidently hoping to converse. To Caroline’s great relief, Georgiana took over the conversation with discussion of mutual acquaintances whom Caroline neither knew nor cared for, and she was able to watch her scheme playing out on the dance floor. Miss Merryhill appeared to be having a pleasant time with Mr Stan-whatever—Caroline made a mental note to learn his name in thanks—while Mr Acton was paying only the barest attention to his own partner. To the girl’s credit, Miss Warwick did not look sour about her partner’s interest lying elsewhere, but was being a lot less subtle about craning her neck to see where the painter was looking.
There, she thought with satisfaction.Now their feelings are out in the open. If they do not do something about them, it is hardly my fault. I gave a push, and now the little birds must fly.
With a murmured instruction to Georgiana to commit to memory every moment of Mr Acton and Miss Merryhill’s conversation post-dance, Caroline reluctantly submitted to dancing the cotillion. She would have much rather stayed and observed for herself, but nothing short of an injury could have freed her from this obligation. A lady could not deny any invitation without denying all of them, for fear of humiliating a gentleman, and besides, the young man was rather pretty, even if he was too whiskered to suit her taste.Time to turn my talents to advancing my own suit, Caroline thought, and bestowed such a dazzling smile on the young man that he promptly tripped over his feet. She took great satisfaction in catching Georgiana scowling from the shadows at Caroline’s partner, who seemed to be taking a great deal of his own satisfaction in touching her just as much as the dance allowed.
The night ended with a hot supper and two lively boulangeries, leaving all participants pleasantly exhausted and declaring that they had not had such a wonderful time in a twelvemonth.
After Georgiana had recited every word and look between Mr Acton and Miss Merryhill—apparently the conversation had been stilted and awkward, with both parties blushing furiously and unsure where to look, before Mr Acton had left early—Miss Darcy fell silent on the carriage ride back to Pemberley. Caroline busied herself with looking out of the window, enjoying the sight of the moon flitting between dark treetops. Thought it was often obscured, it always returned to her view, shining brilliantly, reflecting her own feeling of contemplative victory. Though Mr Acton had left the ball early, which hadn’t been precisely Caroline’s intention, this could only be considered a good thing in the larger scheme; the poor man hadclearly been too affected and jealous to remain a moment longer, which spoke highly of his feelings towards Miss Merryhill. Caroline made no attempt to touch or otherwise engage Georgiana, who seemed now to be lost in her own thoughts. Better to wait until they were home, lest Miss Darcy feel trapped in such an enclosed space with her.
