Page 36 of Till Death Us Do Part: Book 2
“I was in London when my father died, and my brotherjust left me there, with hardly a note, and certainly not a visit for months. When he finally got me out, he did not seem to like what the seminary made me. Perhaps it just exposed my poor character. We will never know—but either way, my brother did not like me very much.”
“What happened then?”
“He went to university, met your husband, and they became fast friends, or at least allies. I think Charles offers Mr Darcy something he cannot obtain by himself in the way of easier entry into society, and I think he was also responsible for watching your husband’s back against attacks like your mother’s. However, in the end, my brother is very definitely the junior in the partnership. We gained much more than he did.”
“And?”
“And, per the usual custom, my brother inherited everything. My father left me a decent dowry, and a set of very high expectations; but it is all in thecontrolof my brother. I suppose he is a good man, and probably a good friend to your husband, but he is not a particularly good brother. He says, ‘Fend for yourself while I go to Cambridge,’ so I fend for myself in society. He says, ‘Let us live in London,’ and we live in London. He says, ‘Introduce me to interesting ladies,’ and I introduce him to ladies until he gets the knack himself. He was much shyer when he was younger, you see.”
“Go on.”
“He says, ‘I must lease an estate in Hertfordshire,’ and we go to Hertfordshire. He says, ‘I want to go to an assembly on your first night in the neighbourhood,’ and we go to the assembly. He says, ‘We must nurse a woman who could perfectly well take a carriage three miles home if she wanted to,’ and we nurse her for a week—though you took the brunt of that, obviously.”
She sighed, then continued with a shrug. “He says, ‘I want to have a ball in a week,’ and we host a ball in a week, organised entirely byme.He says, ‘I am to marry an heiress in Kent,’ and he finds himself married to a woman who has no real use for a sister, not to mention a rather overbearing mother-in-law. Those are the high points, but you get my meaning.”
Elizabeth was stunned by the admission, which frankly overturned everything she had ever thought about Miss Bingley.“I am sorry to hear that. I must admit that my animosity over the way you treated my family—”
“Ah, that. I suppose I should apologise.”
“I think not. First off, I do not communicate with my family any more, so you cannot proffer an apology through me; and, in the end,you were right. You need not apologise for prescience.”
Caroline looked both surprised and sceptical, but Elizabeth said, “There is more to the story, which I am not willing to share at the moment.”
Caroline nodded, then leaned forward in her chair and examined Elizabeth’s dress carefully, then leaned back in her chair. “Aha!”
Elizabeth just looked quizzical, and Caroline asked, “Is that not the day dress you wore when you came to Netherfield to nurse your sister, who was sick because your mother sent her on horseback in the rain as part of a slightly more subtle matrimonial scheme than she used on Mr Darcy—without the petticoat six inches deep in mud, of course?”
Elizabeth laughed openly. “Nothing gets by you, I see.”
“Not in matters of fashion, I assure you,” Caroline said, with just a touch of the impertinence Elizabeth was accustomed to (and preferred), then continued, “It is obviously an old day dress, dyed black. Shall I suppose you are mourning the death of your happy youth, and not any actual formerly living person? You told me Mr Darcy does not allow you to entertain. Being in mourning is the perfect excuse.”
With a laugh, Elizabeth said, “You are correct. Nothing gets by you.” Then she took a heavy sigh. “I can sympathise with your position. Has your brother abandoned you then?”
“Not as such. He gives me more latitude, but made it clear he expects me to marry during the next season or set up my own establishment.”
“Would that be so bad?” Elizabeth asked in genuine curiosity. The idea of her own establishment with the enormous sums Miss Bingley had in her dowry sounded quite attractive. The interest alone would be eight hundred pounds per annum, or nearly half as much as Longbourn generated, for doing absolutelynothing.
Caroline looked thoughtful for some time. “Perhaps it would not be so terrible, but I have not entirely given up on men or on marrying well. Perhaps between the two of us, we can scrape up one good sort of man.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Perhaps,” then noticed the tea was cold, so she rang a bell, and asked for some sandwiches and a bit of wine, adding, “I would invite you to dinner, but that would—”
Then she ducked her head in embarrassment, so Caroline filled in the rest. “That would violate your husband’s explicit directions. You see,” then she paused thoughtfully, before she continued, “the conversation with my brother was on that exact topic. Your husband seemed entirely convinced you set the trap, and he walked right into it.”
“You need not worry that you are telling me something I do not know. He was quite vocal in his belief on our wedding day, such as it was. I, like you, operate under a very tight leash.”
“And you did not correct him?”
“I tried,” Elizabeth grumbled disappointedly, “but I would have better luck turning back the tide.”
“I could not hear the rest in detail, but there was a long discussion about how to deal with you. I do not know the details of what they discussed, but it sounded—unpleasant.”
“I do… know the details, that is. He did not tell me himself, but his uncle admitted, after I guessed, that the idea of annulment was discussed, and not dismissed out of hand.”
Caroline gasped, not having even considered such an abhorrent idea. “Do you think he will do it?”
“I have no idea. He has been gone over five months without a word. Not a single note or letter, and his uncle either does not know where he is or will not tell me—with the former seeming quite unlikely. When he returns—who knows? There are also a hundred ways for him to put me aside and continue with a more amenable companion. Frankly, so long as he does not leave me to starve in the hedgerows, I think I might prefer it: the annulment or a mistress, that is.”
“How would you live with the shame? You would never marry after that, nor even be able to hold your head up in society. He would recover in a few years, but you would not.”
