One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (69 page)

“Do not be rash...,” Mrs. Bennet broke in timidly.

Mr. Bennet held his hand up at his wife. “Stay your tongue, Mrs. Bennet; I will not be dissuaded this time as I was before the ball. I perceive that my youngest is not merely silly, nor is she simply a determined flirt. She is a disobedient and calculating child. This wild behavior will not be borne for another moment in my household. Lydia, from this day forward, you are no longer 'out' in society, and will not be so until you are seventeen years of age, and then only if I am impressed that you have reformed. You will not be allowed to be in company unless you have been expressly invited. You are not to leave the grounds of Longbourn unless you are accompanied by me, or someone I have approved. Not even your mother may take you from the house without my consent.”

“Papa!” Lydia wailed, “It is not fair!”

“And yet,” Mr. Bennet set his utensils down firmly with a loud clank, “in spite of your protests, I am unmoved.
 
It is done, and it is done for the best.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and threw it down on the table. “The next outburst from you, Lydia, shall be met with a penalty that will by no means be pleasant.”

Lydia, who had stood up in protest, sat heavily in her chair, a pout upon her face and her arms folded in frustration. Mrs. Bennet was aghast, but wary of speaking out against Mr. Bennet when he was in high dudgeon. The first to find her tongue was Elizabeth, who claimed that the meal had fatigued her, and she excused herself, retiring at once for the evening. Only Jane perceived a degree of melancholy in Elizabeth's countenance, but when Jane went to her sister's bedchamber, she found Elizabeth sound asleep.

~*~

Mr. Bingley could no longer postpone the inevitable confrontation with his Caroline. He ordered a tray of food to take to her, and soon stood outside the door of her suite. Bingley knew from previous conversations with the footmen guarding her door that she had accepted meals delivered to her antechamber while she was locked in the bedchamber. He knocked at the door to the antechamber and heard the click as the lock was undone. This was followed by the sound of her footfalls as she raced to the bedchamber, the slam of that door, and the rattle of the key in that door as she locked herself in with the bed.

He entered and set the tray on the table, arranging it as he thought the servants would do, and then went loudly to the door, which he opened and noisily closed, although he did not actually quit the room. Instead, he stepped behind a large tapestry that hung on the wall between the two doorways. He quietly sidled along the wall behind the tapestry, intensely focused on not sneezing from the dust that loosened from the cloth, the fine particles swirling into his nostrils as he moved along. In this, he was successful, although he could still feel a sneeze looming. When he reached the edge of the tapestry that hung by the bedchamber door, he waited.

At length, she cautiously unlocked the door to the bedchamber. From his hiding place, Charles could see Caroline as she poked her head through the doorway and searched the room to detect if anyone was there. Apparently satisfied, she finally came out. On tiptoe, she crossed to the unlocked doorway to the hall, and locked it with a key she held in her hand. She then moved to the table and examined the contents of the tray Charles had brought. At length, the sneeze overcame him, and, although she jumped, Caroline acted as though she had not heard it. Charles stepped out and crossed the distance to the table, promptly seating himself casually in the second chair, preparing himself a plate as though it were high tea.

“Are you quite well, Caroline?” Bingley finally ventured.

“I am.” Caroline said. “Why do you ask?”

“We both know you have behaved badly, Caroline. I am here to hear your reason, or excuse, or story—whatever you have to offer to explain it,” Bingley replied, slightly agitated.

“I have not behaved badly; I cannot imagine what you are referring to. For bad behavior, you should check in on the family of your intended. I believe you will find enough bad behavior to satisfy your need for discovery there.”

“Tell me about the wine, Caroline.” Charles looked intently at his sister. “You have always been so clever.”

“Oh that.” Caroline feigned amusement. “I cannot take all the credit, Charles. There we were in the room with Eliza....”

“We?”

“I cannot tell you if you constantly interrupt!” Caroline snapped. “There we were, in the room with Eliza Bennet, our well-laid plan foiled by your butler—inadvertently I believe—because he had sent a fresh bottle to the room already. There she was, the trollop who had clearly aspired to usurp my place with Mr. Darcy, and I could not pour the wine I had earlier prepared with a sleeping draught for her into the decanter. Fortunately, Mr. Jones provided a solution to my dilemma. I substituted some laudanum and added it to the wine sent up by the butler.”

“Where is the bottle of wine with the drought?” Charles asked impatiently.

“I drank it.” Caroline said apologetically. “I knew you were angry at me, so I locked the room, but I was hungry even after the paltry supper that was sent. I reasoned that I would not feel the hunger if I were asleep, so I drank the bottle of wine and slept quite peacefully.”

“You drank the entire bottle?” Charles gasped.

“Yes, of course I did. The elderberry wine is actually quite delicious. I was astonished!”

“Why did you put the draught in the wine bottle, Caroline?” Charles' mind was racing as he attempted to understand what his sister was telling him.

“I obtained the draught from Mr. Jones for my own insomnia, which has plagued me of late. They work very well, particularly if I drink some wine with them. I am out for hours.” Caroline replied.

“But you attempted to place the wine in Elizabeth's quarters.” Bingley challenged. “She already had both the draughts and laudanum to assist her in sleeping.”

“Can you not see, Charles? Adding just a bit to her dose would only make her sleep longer. Mr. Darcy cannot speak to her if she is fast asleep, and poor Jane was looking tired too. The dose would not even be a full one with one glass of wine. You make too much of it.”

“Why did you add the laudanum to the decanter?”

“I already told you—since the butler was so efficient, I had to think quickly.
 
I was not the one who thought of it.
 
He
 
thought of it.”

“He? He who? The butler?” Bingley pressed.

“Not the butler.
 
My friend. I do not recall his
name.
I am not certain that he even has one, but he talks to me. Gives me ideas. Consoles me. Him.”

“What did he say?”

“That the laudanum was on the table, and it would do the job just as well.” Caroline replied matter-of-factly. “He told me to hide what I was doing from Elizabeth so that she would drink it, and then she would sleep for a very long time.”

“The amount you put in that bottle was lethal.” Charles replied angrily.

“Oh? Is Eliza dead then? Did Jane drink some as well? I say good riddance, I will tell you now that he said we would never recover from such a match, and that I would never find a suitable husband with such relations as the Bennets. He is right, you know.”

“They are not dead Caroline. Jane detected that the wine was tainted and they did not partake of it. They have returned to Longbourn.” Charles shuddered at what his sister had said.

“Oh, that is good! Now we can quit this horrid county of Hertfordshire and return to London!” Caroline clapped her hands.

“You will have to go without me.” Charles replied. “I must stay for my wedding to Jane Bennet, but after what you have done, it is impossible to allow you attendance to that happy event. Louisa and her husband are to take you into town tomorrow morning. They are planning a delightful trip to the Isle of Wight and will allow you to come with them, since you shall not attend the wedding.”

“I want to stay in London,” Caroline pouted. “Louisa will listen to me. We can delay the trip until the season is past. Then at least I will be able to see Mr. Darcy and he may resume our courtship at his earliest convenience.”

“Mr. Hurst is quite determined to go, and my house in town is to be redecorated to suit my new wife's tastes. It will be quite impossible for you to stay at my London residence for more than a few days.” Bingley said firmly. “You will go with Louisa. We have planned a few surprises for you in London. I know how much you like surprises.”

“Very well, Charles, I will go and distance myself from those awful Bennets. I wish I could believe you are not serious, but I see that you are perfectly so. He tells me it is too bad they did not drink the wine, but there will be opportunities in the future, I am certain, to amend my failure.” Caroline selected a few more items from the tray with a frown. “The staff may pack my belongings after I go to the drawing room.”

“I will have the carriage come around at nine,” Bingley replied, looking at his sister with sorrow. The conversation had confirmed his fears. In addition to her belief that she would be mistress of Pemberley, Caroline was hearing voices and having trouble sleeping. Caroline's beginning was much the same as Annabelle's had been.

~*~

Although they had not departed until daylight was upon them the following morning, Darcy watched Georgiana, who was fast asleep in their carriage, in spite of her insistence that she had slept well the night before. He contemplated on his good fortune. His business in London had ended better than he could have hoped and faster than he could have imagined possible. The Wickham problem would haunt his sister no more, and the path was clear for him to declare himself to Elizabeth and bring his addresses to the culmination of a proposal.

He indulged in thoughts of her, flashes of her face passing before his eyes in a constant stream. Her dancing eyes, her lips pressed together, the arch of her brow, her head tipped ever so slightly to the side—his mind relived their moments together and wove them into a tapestry of future felicity.

The delights of a marriage born of a love match next paraded incessantly in his daydream. Visions of Pemberley interlaced with memories as he pictured Elizabeth walking amid the gardens and pathways of her new home. He thought with contentment of introducing his bride to the Pemberley library, music room, conservatory, and art collection. He imagined her in their dining room as hostess to the company they entertained. He conjured her in a beautiful gown, adorned in the Darcy jewels, atop the stairs. Together, with her on his arm, they would descend to open their home for their first ball.

His mind wandered further to the children they would eventually have. He imagined dark-haired daughters with sparking eyes that could not be denied and fine strong sons who would one day carry on the Darcy legacy. Thoughts of taking his
 
wife
 
to their bed and initiating the activities that would produce those children elicited a grin of ecstatic anticipation on his handsome face. He cooled his thoughts and expression by considering all the many topics of conversation they would engage in. Elizabeth seemed very determined to converse, and he had no more objections to the sound of her voice falling on his ears than he would have to her lips pressing against his own.

The rocking of the carriage eventually lulled Darcy into a doze, where the object and scenes of his reverie took seemingly tangible form. He enjoyed very pleasant dreams all the way back to Netherfield. In this state, he did not even see the Bingley carriage when they passed on the road or hear Caroline's cries of “Mr. Darcy!” fading into the distance.

Chapter Fifty-One

Family Ties

E
lizabeth excused herself from the company of her family immediately after the evening meal and returned to her bedchamber, burdened by a vague despondency over the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that barred even the faintest hope of that future which would constitute her greatest happiness. The tallow candle sputtered and released a swirl of black smoke as she set the flame on the table next to the nook of the window seat. The yellow light was dim but provided adequate illumination for another reading of her private letter from Mr. Darcy. His correspondence had occupied her mind throughout the past hours since she had first read it.