Page 132 of Mr. Darcy Comes to Town

“Yes. And, I do not like to be bored,” Caroline mused.

Her maid, who had been her nursemaid, clucked. “You always did get yourself into trouble when you was bored, miss.”

“He lives in London.”

“Does he, miss?”

Caroline did not answer her. Instead, she kept her other ideas silent.

But do I love him?

Does that matter so much?

I would not have been so angry if I did not love him. Unless it was only pride that fueled my ire.

Does he love me? Do I want him to love me?

Yes…I want him to love me.

Caroline Bingley, do not be a fool. Marriage is a partnership—or at least that is what I would prefer. Mother and Father’s marriage had been so. She supported him in all his financial endeavors. Could I be the woman behind Colonel Fitzwilliam’s political success?

The idea excited Caroline, which answered her question about whether she would be going to retrieve Mrs. Inwood from Hemel Hempstead with the colonel today.

“Please prepare a travel basket for our journey today,” Caroline told Agatha. “We will be in the carriage for approximately an hour. We will pick up Mrs. Inwood, and then return here. Be certain to include some lemon and ginger tea—cold. Bring something for yourself, too. And calculate the quantities so there will be enough for Mrs. Inwood.”

“Aye, miss,” Agatha said. “When will we be departing?”

“This morning. I will ask the colonel for particulars and then send word down to the kitchens.”

“Very good, miss. You’ll be wanting to wear a travelling gown, then, miss?”

“I will—but nothing too heavy. It is already hot today.”

“Aye, miss,” she said, pushing the last pin into Caroline’s hair to hold a curl in place.

*

Darcy glanced at his cousin as Douglas sat eating his morning meal half-heartedly. He picked at his kipper, pulling free boneless morsels for Basile, who sat attentively on the floor, staring up at Douglas. Other than Brewster, the butler, they were alone.

“What ails you this morning, Cousin?” Darcy asked, reaching for his cup of coffee.

Douglas sighed. “I upset Miss Bingley yesterday—surely you noticed during dinner?”

“I thought Bingley was the target of her ire.”

“He may have been,” Douglas said. “But so was I.”

“I know you too well to think you deliberately insulted her,” Darcy remarked.

“I told her about my political ambitions.”

“And she objected?”

“I thought she was interested,” Douglas said, frowning and pushing his food around on his plate. “She even discussed the cost of such a career with me quite boldly, I thought.”

“And then?” Darcy probed.

“And then she turned cold and walked back to the house, saying she had the headache. Maybe she did, but she seemed more angry than unwell.” He sorted out another piece of fish and gave it to Basile. “What kind of fish is this? I do not recognize it.”