Page 12 of Attempted Compromises
Bingley shrugged, an easy smile spreading across his face. “You never know, Darcy. Perhaps someone here in Meryton may surprise you.”
Darcy shook his head, still unconvinced. “Here? In this small part of the country, I highly doubt I’ll find anyone there suited to the responsibilities I require.”
“Well,” Bingley replied, undeterred, “it’s fortunate that we’ll have the opportunity to see, as I accepted an invitation for us to attend an assembly in Meryton tomorrow evening. You must come, too.”
Darcy’s brow furrowed, a hint of annoyance in his gaze. “An assembly? You know how I detest such gatherings. They are little more than an endless parade of shallow social displays.”
Bingley laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Perhaps, but you mustn’t be so quick to judge. Besides, you might find something of interest—or someone—at this particular gathering.”
Darcy’s brow furrowed. “And if I do not?”
“Then at least you can be assured of some amusement,” Bingley replied with a grin. “But consider this—if you don’t attend, my sister Caroline will almost certainly stay behind with you to keep you company.”
Darcy winced, the thought of a solitary evening in Caroline’s company sending a shiver down his spine. He took a resigned sip of his brandy, setting the glass down with a sigh.
“Very well,” he said with a resigned sigh. “I shall attend. But do not expect me to find any revelations there.”
Bingley clapped him on the shoulder, his grin unrelenting. “We shall see, my friend. We shall see.”
∞∞∞
Caroline stepped back from the study door and felt a flush of humiliation. She had never expected to hear herself discussed in such a… dismissive tone. Darcy, the man she had set her sights on since the beginning of the Season, the man whose fortunes, status, and refinement matched her ambitions precisely, had just declared her unsuitable. And Charles had laughed—laughed!
How dare Charles speak so poorly about me to his friend?
Her embarrassment was quickly replaced by a steely determination. The nerve of Darcy—to speak of her as though she were some mere upstart, incapable of fulfilling the role of his wife and mistress of Pemberley. And Charles—her own brother—dismissing her so glibly, calling her aharridan. The insult gnawed at her, leaving her seething.
I’ll show them! I’ll show them all!
As the voices inside quieted, Caroline stepped back, schooling her features into a mask of calm. She had known that winning Darcy would not be easy, and that he would require convincing; after all, his expectations were notorious. But this… this was beyond what she had anticipated.
In her mind, Caroline Bingley could already envision herself at Pemberley, dressed in the finest silks, her name spoken with reverence by those she entertained, her influence stretching across Derbyshire and beyond. Mistress of Pemberley… it was her birthright as much as it was Darcy’s; it was simply a matter of time before he realized it. She had all the accomplishments, the breeding, and the elegance to fit the role. Who else could possibly embody the poise and sophistication required for such a position?
The notion that Darcy saw her as unfit—that he wanted someone ofkindnessandwarmth, someone who could be a devoted mother to his sister and nephew—was laughable.
Kindness and warmth,she thought with a faint sneer.What does kindness have to do with running a vast estate?
Darcy was deceiving himself. He needed a woman of control, someone who could maintain the legacy, not a little milkmaid full of tenderness.
Her mind raced. Darcy had spoken of wanting a wife who would “care for his family like her own.” Well, Caroline could do that. She would fawn over Georgiana, sing her praises, accompany her at the piano, even listen to her tedious conversations, if need be.
As for that sickly child Matthew, or whatever his name was… surely, with time Darcy would see that the boy’s health made him an unfit heir, and he might turn his attentions to a son of his own. Still, she could charm the child if that was what it took. Caroline’s mouth pursed at the thought of fawning over Darcy’s fragile son, but it was a small price to pay if it softened Darcy’s heart. Children were simple creatures; a few sweets, some lavish gifts, and the boy would think of her fondly.
A shadow of a smile touched her lips as she considered her plans. Yes, she would befriend Georgiana and dote upon little what’s-his-name, until Darcy could not imagine a more affectionate mother figure. In his eyes, she would be everything he professed to seek.
Yet a quiet, unrelenting voice in the back of her mind lingered on Darcy’s words:“She must be someone loving and kind.”She pushed down her frustration, but a niggling doubt remained. What if Darcy refused her attention outright? What if, despite all her efforts, he still deemed her unfit?
A chill shivered down her spine, and she straightened her back. She would not wait on chance alone. No, if all else failed, she would find a way to ensure her position.
A compromise.
Caroline felt her determination harden, her gaze focusing on a single point in the hallway as her plan solidified. If subtle charms and careful manipulation failed to sway him, there were other, more…drasticmeasures she could take.
Her lips curled into a smile at the thought. A compromise was all it would take to bring about an engagement. A slip of the foot, an innocent mishap… even a brief scene that would arouse suspicion, and Darcy would be honor-bound to protect her reputation. And he was far too upright, too concerned with his family’s name, to allow a scandal to touch them.
“Yes,” she murmured to herself, her voice low and resolute. “If Darcy cannot be convinced by persuasion, he can be convinced by obligation.”
Her plan was settled; its logic as flawless as the lacework on her gown. Darcy may have believed she wasn’t suited to his expectations, but she would rewrite those expectations to suit herself. She would ensure her place in his life, one way or another.
