Page 70 of To Love And To Cherish
As they made their way upstairs, Georgiana retrieved the novel, dropped earlier in the excitement, and the girls retired to Kitty’s room. Ostensibly, they went to read.
In truth, they intended to discuss the evening’s events in exquisite detail.
And Miss Bingley had, unfortunately for her, given them quite a bit to work with.
The next morning, Darcy recounted the night’s adventures to Bingley.
“She’s had six London seasons already. No man in England will have her,” Bingley declared. “Perhaps India, or Canada?”
He mulled over the predicament throughout breakfast. By the end of the meal, he had a plan.
Bingley excused himself to prepare for travel. “Darcy, I believe it best that I escort Caroline back to my family. May I leave Jane here at Pemberley? I fear it would only worsen matters to confine the two of them in a carriage for hours on end. I’m sorry to break up our visit in this way, but under the circumstances, I trust you understand.”
“You plan to return Caroline to Yorkshire?” Darcy asked.
Bingley nodded. “Yes. And while there, I shall speak with my second cousin, Jack Campbell. He’s been planning to emigrate to America. I’ll provide funds from Caroline’s dowry, enoughfor two passages and three thousand pounds, to see her settled abroad. And if he decided to marry her himself, he would have her dowry.”
Jack Campbell had long wished to cross the Atlantic. Strong, sensible, and well over six feet tall, he was just the sort of man who could manage both Caroline and her dowry, and perhaps even be happy with her.
Darcy looked both astonished and impressed. “That’s… ingenious.”
Bingley smirked. “It’s that, or exile her to Scotland, and I doubt they deserve such a punishment. Jack will keep her in line.”
“I wish both you and the hapless suitor luck,” Darcy said, clapping him on the shoulder. “And Godspeed.”
Chapter 36: Riding Lessons
The road from the estate located on the far side of Dava Moor to Carrbridge stretched almost thirty miles across highland wilderness over rugged, sometimes impassable roads, and their journey was to be made over two days and one night. The morning they set out, the spring air was cool and dry, the sky a silvery blue, with only the faintest wisp of cloud drifting above the heather-covered hills. A wind rolled gently over the moor, and though it brought a bite to the air, the sun offered sufficient warmth to make the travel agreeable.
Elizabeth sat in the carriage beside Miss Trent, with Mary King opposite them. Uncle Allister stood waving from the edge of the yard, his old tweed coat flapping in the wind.
"I shall write you as soon as we arrive," Mary called, leaning from the window.
"And I shall expect a full report on the horses!" he called back.
When they could see him no longer, the three women settled into their journey, the road climbing steadily into upland plateau.
"We are travelling through one of the wildest regions of Scotland," Miss Trent said, gazing out the window. "The Cairngorms form the backbone of this landscape. I’ll never get enough of the granite cliffs, or the outcrops that rise like ancient sentinels."
Elizabeth leaned forward and said, “Nor I. I could live here forever. It feels as though the land itself remembers things long forgotten by men."
“Aye,” said Miss Trent. “The forest we are approaching, Abernethy, is cloaked in the ancient Caledonian pinewood. I imagine it is a place of rare and haunting beauty."
Mary King, quiet until now, offered, “The air smells of pine. I like it.”
By the end of the first day, they had crossed wide plateaus where free-standing rocks perched atop sweeping ridges. They passed the night at a small inn nestled between two ridgelines. That night, wrapped in warm shawls before the fire, they spoke little and sat in quiet contemplation, their eyes fixed on the flickering flames. There was a shared sense of expectation, of entering something wholly unfamiliar and wholly thrilling.
The following afternoon, they reached the River Dulnain and the Carrbridge packhorse bridge. The water rushed beneath its single, narrow arch, and the landscape beyond was awash in wildflowers and green foliage.
Elizabeth gasped. "May we stop here? I would so like to sketch the bridge."
Miss Trent agreed at once. They descended, spread their picnic lunch on a flat stone near the river, and Elizabeth took out her sketchbook.
"I wish to remember this precisely as it is," she said, pencil already in hand.
By late evening, the towers of Castle Roy came into view. Pale stone walls rose against the gathering dusk, framed by dark firs and the shadowed outline of mountains to the north.
As their carriage drew near the castle gates, all four Frazier brothers stood in welcome. Adam came forward first, tall and broad-shouldered, with a languid manner and quiet command.
