Caroline went to the library. She stood outside, ear pressed to the door. She heard the Colonel say, “So, Bingley, are we going to call on Miss Bennet today?”
And her brother replied, “I am certainly going; can you not stay here at Netherfield today? After all, you had her to yourself yesterday.”
“Certainly, if you wish it,” the Colonel replied, amiably.
“Darcy? Will you join me?” Charles asked.
“Indeed; I am eager to see Miss Elizabeth.”
Miss Elizabeth! Is that where Mr. Darcy had disappeared to every day? Caroline scowled. Just then the door opened. “Oh! Charles! I was just about to knock!” Caroline said, quickly. She looked her brother over closely. Dunstan, his valet, had turned him out very well this morning. He looked very much like a man going a-courting.
“Yes, Caroline?”
“I thought to visit Miss Bennet today to ask after her health.”
Charles looked at her, skeptically. “You wish to visit Miss Bennet?”
“I do.”
“You realise it has been some time since her illness,” her brother said.
“I have been busy, but better late than never.”
“I must say that this is certainly unexpected, Caroline.”
“She is a sweet girl, Charles; I have always said so.”
“Yes, in exactly that demeaning and supercilious tone,” Charles replied, obviously irritated.
Caroline stared at him; she then allowed her eyes to fill with tears. This was a trick all the girls had practiced at school. The method they used was to think of something very sad. Caroline’s sad thought was of the time her mother had killed Chirpee, Caroline’s canary, by offering the little bird to the kitchen cat. It was easy to cry, thinking of poor Chirpee’s fate. This was perhaps the most useful skill she had picked up at her seminary.
As usual, Charles could not resist her tears. “Dash it all, Caroline! Fine; come along. Darcy and I were going to ride, but if you are joining us, I suppose I will need to have the carriage harnessed up.”
Twenty minutes later, the carriage was ready. Caroline had changed into one of her very finest silk day dresses and had donned an extremely elaborate headdress. Let Elizabeth Bennet compete with this, she thought.
As she descended the staircase regally, head high, she saw Mr. Darcy’s eyes widen. Good; she was very much hoping he would approve of her ensemble. Then she heard her brother sigh. “It is just a morning call in the country, Caroline. This is not Park Lane.”
“I know that, Charles.”
“And do you think you are properly dressed for a morning call in the country?”
She replied loftily, “I do not believe I require your instruction on proper attire, Charles.”
He shrugged. “I honestly do not care, Caroline. Let us go now.”
When they arrived at Longbourn, Mr. Darcy exited the carriage first. Caroline hoped that Mr. Darcy would hand her out, but he went immediately to the front door, leaving Charles to help her from the carriage. No matter; seeing Mr. Darcy’s eyes widen as she descended the staircase was all the encouragement she required.
The butler announced them and they made their way into the small room that served as the Bennet’s parlour. Mrs. Bennet was there, as was Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth and the other three girls, whose names Caroline had not bothered to remember.
Mrs. Bennet supplied the names. “Oh, Miss Bingley, I believe you met my three younger girls at the assembly, but you must have met a good number of people that night. As you may recall, this is my middle daughter, Miss Mary. This is Miss Catherine, whom we call Kitty, and my youngest, Miss Lydia.”
As the Bennet girls curtsied, the gentlemen bowed and Caroline inclined her head stiffly. They were invited to sit, and the matron rang for tea.
Caroline wasted no time. “I am delighted to see you looking so much better, Miss Bennet.”
“Thank you, Miss Bingley. I am certain that I owe you a debt of gratitude for allowing me to recover so peacefully at Netherfield,” Jane replied.
“I am certain you do, Miss Bennet, as I cannot imagine you enjoying the same level of peace here at Longbourn.”
