Chapter Twenty-Two
My dear Louisa,
Thank you for your kind offer—of course I shall join you in London later, though I expect after such a long trip with Mother, you shall be glad to spend a little time in your glorious, finished abode with your dear William. I am sure he has been missing you dreadfully.
How is Mother faring? Does she plan to return to Hadley Hall immediately or does she feel herself well enough to visit London for a time? The answer, of course, will influence my plans for the next few weeks.
Your devoted sister,
Caroline
Caroline scowled down at the letter; what she had written was true enough, though Louisa would not be able to detect her true meaning. Caroline had no intention of going back to Hadley Hall any time soon, and particularly not if her mother was there alone. She would rather spend the next three years in Louisa’s London home, listening to William Hurst gamble and belch and rant at length about the depth and complexityof his cook’s ragout, which wasn’t even particularly good. Miss Darcy had been gone for most of the morning and afternoon, though this time, she had assured Caroline that it was merely her correspondence which kept her. If Caroline had doubts about the veracity of such a claim, the promise of later kisses had soon erased them.
They enjoyed a long walk around the garden in the late-afternoon sunshine, and after an excellent dinner of roast pheasant and boiled potatoes, followed by another posset—this time, a raspberry one which was as tart as it was smooth—Caroline spent a pleasant evening listening to Georgiana alternating between playing the pianoforte and wandering about the room, reciting the history of this or that ancestor with all the studied airs of a history teacher four times her age. Caroline, sides still aching from laughter, followed Georgiana to the door of her bedchamber in the hope of a goodnight kiss. She did not receive one, though Georgiana permitted an embrace which lasted for long enough to raise Caroline’s hopes again.
“We should say goodnight,” Miss Darcy said, though she made no move to release Caroline from her embrace.
Caroline pulled back just far enough to meet her gaze. Georgiana had once told her that she spent far too much time looking outward at everyone else and no time at all looking inward, but Caroline rather thought the same could be said of Georgiana. “I suggest we stop worrying about what we should do and pay more attention to what feels right. We are not in society now, Georgie. Did you not tell me that I may do as I wish when there are no eyes to judge?”
“One of us has to be the voice of reason here.”
“And you have decided to take up that mantle, have you?” Caroline moved closer, watching Georgiana’s throat bob as she swallowed. Close enough to see the pulse in her neck fluttering. “Why, if that’s really the case...” She reached up, pressing her lips to the patch of skin directly under Georgiana’s ear. “Then surely you can command yourself not to be affected by this.”
A sharp intake of breath was her reward. “Who says I am?”
“The trouble with that statement, Miss Darcy,” she murmured, “is that I do not believe you in the slightest.”
“I don’t care what you believe.” The tone was brazen, the words careless, but there was something underneath that Caroline couldn’t quite comprehend. She felt as if she were standing on a frozen lake and had, in the distance, heard a crack. Was it the ice or merely a distant twig snapping? Was she safe—or about to plunge to a frozen death?
Such dramatics. It was only kissing, after all.
Caroline pressed her lips to warm skin, tasting salt. “And yet, you’re still allowing me to do this.”
Georgiana hesitated as if torn, but acquiesced to tip her head back, allowing Caroline full access to the column of her throat. Caroline left a slow trail of kisses from left to right, then dipped down and pressed her tongue against Georgiana’s pulse point, feeling the rapid beat. Her own heart rate had sped up too, though blood was thundering through other, lower parts of her with a steady, aching insistence. “Why are you so stubborn, Miss Darcy?” she murmured.
“Why are you so persistent, Miss Bingley?”
Caroline chuckled. “We are rather a well-made pair, are we not?” She pressed another kiss to Georgiana’s soft cheek. “What if we did not say goodnight yet?”
Georgiana cocked her head, a look of consideration on her face, but the sound of soft voices from downstairs made them both freeze; the housemaids, probably, exchanging some vital details about the next morning’s work. Caroline had expected her friend to flinch away entirely, fearing being seen or heard by the servants, but instead, Georgiana grasped Caroline’s wrist and pulled her inside, shutting the door behind them and pushing Caroline against it with enough force to send a wave of desire roiling through her body. In an instant, they were kissing, and to Caroline’s unfettered delight, Georgiana’s hands began to roam as if Miss Darcy were mapping out her body for later study. The thought excited Caroline and she did her best to mimic the movements, squeezing and caressing until Georgiana’s breath came hot and fast against her mouth.
“I was hoping you would bed me tonight, Georgie,” she murmured.
Georgiana’s fingers tightened hard enough to bruise on Caroline’s hips, though when she next spoke, her voice was relatively calm. “You are too keen. A lady does not rush so.”
A lady probably does not often feel as I feel right now, Caroline thought, biting back a growl of frustration, and cast about for a good enough reason to insist upon the matter. “Well, it is possible that I may meet a suitable gentleman any day now who will prove to be a good match for me. And I do not believe I could conduct such an affair if affianced, for that would be a discredit both to myself and my husband-to-be. Therefore it seems to me only sensible that you and I should make haste in the time that we have together.”
“Ah.” Georgiana was silent for long enough to make Caroline worry. “You make an excellent point.” Without warning,she dipped her head and kissed Caroline soundly again, relieving her of any anxiety. “I ought not to take you, though,” she added, when finally they broke apart. “For that is an act reserved for the marriage bed, as you no doubt know. But we may perform other... activities.”
“Other activities?” she repeated, feeling dazed. She rather liked the sound of that. And was it merely coincidence that Georgiana seemed to be generally spurred on by the mention of losing Caroline to a suitor? No doubt this was simply her competitive nature emerging once more, albeit in a slightly unusual vein. “And what might those entail?”
“Have you really never—”
“No. Never. Not like this.” She moved forward, walking Georgiana back to the bed, until Miss Darcy fell backwards on it with a soft thump. “Show me what to do.”
“Caroline—”
“This I will not beg for, Miss Darcy,” she said firmly. “I want you, and I will not apologise for it. You said you wanted me too, did you not?”
