Wordlessly, Caroline stared at him, then around at the estate.He cannot possibly be serious.“I... You could marry anyone, my lord. I am sure that hordes of women—”
“I do not wish for hordes, Miss Bingley. I do not even wish for one woman who could love me, for I could never love her back. No, my list of requirements is more specific than usual, and requires a very particular kind of woman to fulfill them. I am looking for someone who I am certain is in love with someone else she cannot have. The two of us may form a lasting friendship, which is more than many can hope for. And then there’s all this.” He gestured at the admittedly beautiful grounds. “You would have my fortune and my name. If you find my character at all deficient, I am sure that those will more than make up the spare.”
I would be Lady Ashbrook, she thought.Wife of a viscount.Oh, Mother, you have played the game too well this time.“Why marry at all, then?”
“An heir or two to secure the inheritance, with as little fuss about that side of things as possible. It is, as you know, the done thing. And I desire lifelong companionship with a woman I can trust and respect.”
Caroline could not deny how flattering Ashbrook’s attentions were, especially in the wake of her repeated rejections from Georgiana. His interest was not romantic, nor did it cure her of any of her pains, but it was pleasant enough to be reminded that someone might want her—not simply for an affair, but fora marriage. A life; the exact offer that Georgiana had rejected. Ashbrook’s was a pragmatic one. They might never be happy together, but they could be content. Caroline would have married up in the world, so her family would be delighted. There really was no downside, apart from the fact that the idea made her want to throw herself into the nearest body of water. “May I have some time to consider your offer?” she choked out, hardly knowing what to say.
“Of course, Miss Bingley. You do not know me at all, and I would be more than happy to meet with you as often as you like, so that you can ascertain the details of my character.”
Get a hold of yourself, woman, Caroline thought, biting back tears. “Your character is not in question, my lord,” she said. “Only my own heart.”
“Ah, Miss Bingley.” His smile was regretful. “How our hearts do pain us. I wonder sometimes whether, if I had the option, I would choose not to have one at all.”
“Really?”
He gave the matter some thought. “No,” said he, staring down at the small figures of his nephew and Miss Emily, who were pacing about the large machine as if working out all the secrets of the universe. “I think I would rather have the pain of knowing I had loved once, than the emptiness of never having loved at all.”
Caroline hated that she knew exactly what he meant. “Speaking of the heart, may we now circle back to Mr Acton? For he loves a lady but cannot afford to marry. Money is all that keeps them apart, which seems a far easier gap to bridge than the ones you and I face.”
“Indeed? I had no idea he harboured such passion.” The viscount studied her. “You know, some people might not wishanyone to have love if they cannot have it themselves. Envy is a tempting vice.”
“Some may,” she agreed. “But I am not so churlish. And I do not think you are, either. Will you help him, my lord? Commission another few paintings so that at least someone of our acquaintance might know what it is to be happy?”
He chuckled, and the sound was no longer bitter. “That I can do, Miss Bingley. That I can do.”
“I have a question,” Miss Emily said in the carriage, when Caroline relayed the details of the proposal. “Actually, I have several. Beginning with, why on earth did not you turn Lord Ashbrook down immediately if you are in love with Miss Darcy?”
In love with Georgiana.Saying it herself had been one thing; hearing it said aloud by another person was something else entirely. Caroline closed her eyes and counted to five, then ten, then fifteen.
“I do not understand it,” Miss Emily pressed, sounding as distressed as if someone had informed her that all grass was in fact purple, not green. “When last we spoke, I was under the impression that you and Miss Darcy—”
“Miss Darcy has made it plain that our relationship will never be—” Caroline snapped, and Miss Emily’s eyes widened. “I apologise,” she added, more calmly. “It is a rather sensitive subject at the moment. Suffice it to say that I appear to be in one place, and she another.”
“Have you asked her how she feels? Laurel is forever saying one should ask people how they feel rather than assume.”
“Unfortunately, Georgiana refused to confirm or deny whether she loved me.”
“How odd.” Emily gave this some thought, staring out of the carriage window as they rolled down the road at a comfortable pace. “How does she expect you to know what she is feeling if she refuses to tell you?”
Caroline sighed. “Miss Chester, if the world thought and spoke as we do, it would be a far less complicated place indeed.”
“Indeed.” Miss Emily nodded. “What a comfort it is to have your friendship, Miss Bingley. I hope that mine can be a comfort to you, too.”
“It already is,” she said, surprised to find that this was true.
