Chapter Four
To my currently-not-dear brother,
Miss Bingley was in my room last night, face still wet from weeping, begging me to help her become a nicer person. Someone had told her that unless she altered her entire character, she would never find a match. That someone then fled by the dawn’s light, leaving me the only person in this house capable of agreeing to the ridiculous scheme she has cooked up. That same someone ought to think very, very carefully about what sort of a present he should bring back from Bath for his darling sister.
It had better be horse-sized, Fitz. I do not jest.
Yours with an affection which depends entirely upon my future gift,
Georgiana
P.S. There was no need to be quite so callous. I admit that she’s ratheraggravatingtryingstrident at times, but I also think that, perhaps under all those layers of bluster, there might be something truly worth excavating.
Carolinewoke early the next morning with a mild headache as a result of all the crying she’d done the night before. Tears were an infrequent occurrence for her, but when she thought of the way that Darcy had looked at her—that flash of anger, fading into pity—the tears threatened to break free again. She shook herself. His words had wounded her, had cut deeply into her soul in a way that she’d never expected, but there was no need for weeping now that she had a plan. It would work, especially now that she had Georgiana on her side. Miss Darcy had never failed at anything, as far as Caroline knew, and so, there was no reason to suppose that she was about to start any time soon.
Buoyed by this reassurance, she washed her face before slipping into a cream dress the colour of a new moon and then went down to break her fast. The Pemberley dining-parlour was one of the most elegant rooms in any house Caroline had ever visited. Tall windows rendered it light and airy, while butter-yellow walls enhanced the effect, making it look as if sunshine were always present, regardless of the weather outside. The curtains were a darker shade of yellow, leaning towards flaxen, and were hemmed perfectly so that the bottoms brushed the floor with only the slightest of caresses. The floor was a pale hardwood, worn smooth by the passage of many feet, and was polished highly enough to reflect the blue sky filtering through the windows. The only paintings on the walls were landscapes of Scotland, which the late Mrs Darcy had loved very much. Caroline gazed up at her particular favourite, which featured a sun-dappled glen through which a bold buck walked, his head held high, majestic antlers rising several feet above his graceful head. The painter had somehow managed to make the animal’s flank look almost as if it were heaving,and one quite expected it to turn its head any moment to snort a plume of steamy breath into the soft summer air.
To her left, someone quietly cleared their throat. Caroline startled on the threshold, realising only now that she had been too lost in her own thoughts to see that there was another person in the room. Her momentary spike of panic that it might be Darcy himself receded as she swung round to find Mrs Reynolds lingering at the table, clad in a black dress which looked just as neatly-pressed as the lady herself. The housekeeper’s smile was a little strained; she’d evidently been expecting Georgiana, who was usually up long before anyone else in the house. Caroline’s gaze swept the table, noting the lack of used cutlery; unfortunately, it appeared that she was the first one to arrive this morning. Glancing over her shoulder into the great hall, Caroline saw that the pair of large riding boots which had lain on the mat the night before had disappeared. It was possible Darcy had left already, though it would be unlike him to do so, since he took every available opportunity to spend time with his sister. Then again, last night’s confrontation might have prompted him to escape early, so as to avoid any more unpleasant scenes with Caroline.
Rude, she thought. He ought to have left her a letter of apology for all that he’d said. Or at the very least, he might have waited long enough to have a buttered roll thrown at his head.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Mrs Reynolds said, drawing Caroline once again out of her reverie.
Normally, Caroline would have simply nodded, but a voice in her head prompted her to start as she meant to go on.What would Miss Elizabeth Bennet do?she wondered.She probably charms every servant she meets as if each were a queen.“Goodmorning, Mrs Reynolds,” said she, addressing the housekeeper with the same warm tone that she’d heard Georgiana muster. She glanced at the table, where the settings were arranged with their usual uniformity. “What a lovely, er...” She paused.Blast.How does one compliment a servant?“Crockerial arrangement,” she finished, feeling rather pleased with herself.
The housekeeper’s expression did not change, though Caroline got the distinct impression that Mrs Reynolds could not have been more surprised if Caroline had strolled through the door nude and flung a dead rabbit onto the table. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said, after the briefest hesitation, pulling out a chair for Caroline. “And how would you like your toast this morning?”
“Light,” Caroline said, her attention distracted as Georgiana entered the room, wearing a pretty pink dress that complemented her fair curls perfectly. “The sort that is barely a moment beyond hot bread.”
“Very good, ma’am.”
“Good morning to you both,” Georgiana said, eyeing Mrs Reynolds, who glanced at Georgiana before disappearing through the door in a manner that wasn’t quite her usual bustle, but wasn’t quite a scuttle either. “Heavens, it is not even nine on the clock and already you seem to have frightened my housekeeper out of her wits. What on earth did you say to her?”
Her plan was off to an inauspicious start. “I merely said good morning,” she protested.
Georgiana stared at her. “Yes, that would have done it. You’ve never said good morning to any of the staff before.”
Annoyed, Caroline poured herself tea, then added a heaped spoon of sugar. In an ordinary household, the servants were expected to actually serve; in such a grand place as Pemberley,one might assume one would receive exceptional treatment as a matter of course, yet Miss Darcy preferred to break her fast with no one waiting on her but Mrs Reynolds, and even then, she preferred that the housekeeper do as little as possible. When Mr Darcy was present, things proceeded in the usual way, but when he was gone, Georgiana lapsed into what Caroline often thought of as hercommon womanact—serving herself, dressing herself, maintaining her own fires, and so on. Caroline had learned to accept this quirk, though it did not make any sense to her; the effort of reaching a few inches to obtain her own condiments did not particularly signify one way or another.
“You speak as if I have no manners at all,” she complained, “when you know very well that nothing could be further from the truth.”
“You have very pretty manners indeed,” Georgiana allowed, seating herself one place away from Caroline and reaching for a platter of cold ham. She stabbed a thick slice with her fork and moved it onto her plate before lifting a cloche to peer at the eggs underneath. “Though, if my memory serves me, you generally do not apply them to servants.”
“It is all part of my Great Endeavour,” Caroline declared, enunciating the words to make it plain that the plan was capitalised in an appropriately formal way. “Do not tell me you have forgotten what we discussed last night.”
“I had rather hoped that was all a bad dream,” Georgiana muttered, sliding two eggs onto her plate. “And I am not sure ‘discussed’ is the right word either. What I recall is you barging in and making a series of demands. Or rather, one large demand.”
“That is a terrible misrepresentation of the matter. I simply begged for your help, and you”—Caroline flashed her mostcharming smile at Georgiana, who looked completely unimpressed by it—“agreed to help me in my hour of need. As any true companion might. We are friends, are we not?”
“Friendsis a strong—” Georgiana muttered, then raised her voice. “You seem much recovered this morning. Is there really any need to—”
“I am completely set upon my course,” Caroline interrupted. “And you already gave your word.”
“I hardly think that it is fair to hold me to something which you threw at me without a moment’s notice.” Georgiana caught Caroline’s pout and sighed. “Yes, all right. I shall assist you in your... what did you call it?”
“My Great Endeavour.”
“It sounds like a ship about to set sail on some dangerous voyage.”
