Her thoughts turned again to Georgiana, who had been a large part of her life even before their affair had begun, but who now was such a huge part of her life that she could not really imagine living it without her. Would she ever be invited to stay at Pemberley again? Could their friendship ever be repaired?
Caroline shook herself. She shouldn’t be thinking about Georgiana right now, not when the sun was shining and a pleasant, handsome man was asking her questions. She ought to be paying attention and trying to entice him, even if it was the last thing she currently wanted to do. If she could not have Georgiana, and that much had been made clear to her, then she must set her sights on a different target. Spinsterhood must be avoided if possible. The Great Endeavour could still be achieved. Perhaps wealth and a title would go some way towards repressing the grief and longing which threatened to drown her, though she doubted it.
“And your parents?” Ashbrook asked, offering her an iced bun.
“My father passed away several years ago. My mother...”is an unfeeling shrew, she wanted to say, but instead, bit into her bun. It was delicious, but no match for Mrs Addlecombe’s baking. “Suffice it to say that she and I are not particularly close, I’m afraid.”
He watched her, waiting.
“I don’t think I’ve lived up to her expectations, despite my efforts,” she finished.
“Ah. It was the same with my father. He suffered from a lamentable coldness of heart, which reduced all his relationships to mere business transactions. Hence why I preferred not to discuss Mr Acton at the ball. I hope I did not disappoint you there.”
“I’m so sorry, my lord,” she said, and meant it. “I understand how such a feeling can eat away at a person like rust. Yet I might also say, though I do not know you well, that you appear to have grown into a man whom any father would be proud of.”
In the distance, laughter drifted on the breeze. Caroline could just make out two small figures at the bottom of the lawn, gesturing exuberantly at something large and mechanical, though she had no idea what the machine could possibly be.
Ashbrook cleared his throat. “You have a kind nature,” said he, rather hoarsely. “At the Percy ball, you were always looking back to check on your friend who did not dance all night, and earlier you went out of your way to ensure that I do not suspect Miss Chester of being after Teddy for his fortune. Do not think I do not notice these things.”
Surprised, Caroline blinked.Does he see me?she wondered, and the thought made her want to cry.
“The thing is,” he continued, “and I neither wish to presumenor pry, but I have seen you in company with Miss Darcy’s brother, who I lately heard married a girl in Hertfordshire.” At Caroline’s look of surprise, he shrugged. “Lady Lennox is a lovely woman but a terrible gossip. And your mother, though in far fewer words, intimated the same.”
“My mother?” Caroline gaped at him. “You have met my mother?”
“In Lyme Regis,” he said. “And I hope I do not offend when I say that I recognised some of my father’s traits in her.”
Caroline’s pleasure in the day vanished, replaced by dawning dread. “I had heard that you were asking questions about me at the lake party.” She’d assumed that Mr Radcliffe was either teasing her or completely wrong; it had never occurred to her that Ashbrook might actually have been doing so.
He bit a sugar biscuit in half and chewed thoughtfully. “I asked a few, yes. I wanted to know what sort of woman you were. The answers I received pleased me, though I wanted to get to know you a little myself.”
“And what is your pronouncement, my lord?” said she, feeling worse by the second.
“Not cold, but rather distant, as if you are always thinking about something or someone else. More generous than I expected. More beautiful, too. Your character is just what a young lady ought to be: well-mannered, amiable, graceful.”
Once, this list of traits would have satisfied Caroline. She could have thrown them in Mr Darcy’s face—from a viscount, no less!—as proof that she was not the inferior creature he claimed. Now, she could find nothing in it to please her. There was only one person in the world whose good opinion meant anything.
“Your mother led me to believe that you were a practical woman,” Lord Ashbrook went on. “So I hope that you receive these compliments in the spirit they are intended.”
“They sound like a thorough assessment,” Caroline managed.
“The thing is,” he said again, “that I wish to propose an arrangement which I believe would be beneficial for us both. I believe you also understand what it is like to be in love with someone now married and out of reach.”
She flinched, dread spiking to panicked levels. What on earth did that mean?She was correct,he’d said at the Percy ball about his own parent,as mothers often are.Had he been thinking then of Mrs Bingley’s advice? Had he been calculating when and how best to propose? Had it all been arranged to everyone’s satisfaction long before he had ever set eyes on Caroline?
He gave her a soft, comforting smile. “I do not fault you for your feelings. Mr Darcy is a fine, upstanding gentleman.”
“Excuse me?” She stared at him, not able to believe what she’d just heard.He thinks I am in love withFitzwilliam?The idea made her want to throw her cup at the wall and then the contents of her stomach all over the viscount’s fine lawn.
“I myself have some experience with loving a person who did not love me back. Not in the way I had hoped, in any case.” He ran a hand through his hair, his voice suddenly bitter. “The heart is an errant horse, Miss Bingley. It can rarely be steered the way one wishes.”
“May I ask the lady’s name?” she said, not really knowing what else to say.
“Josephine,” Ashbrook said, after a pause.
“And why didn’t—”
“I never told her how I felt. Not in so many words, anyway.”He picked up his cup of tea but didn’t seem inclined to drink it. “So she married my best friend instead. He at least was able to put voice to... Well. No matter.” He forced a smile. “Which brings me to my point. I wondered if perhaps you would consider marrying me.”
