Page 91 of Attempted Compromises
Caroline staggered, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly as she groped for the arm of a nearby chair. “That’s absurd,” she finally croaked. “I did no such thing.”
“My husbanddiedwhen he drank the laudanum you put in his tea,” Louisa bellowed, tears streaming down her face. “The combination of the drug with the wine he’d drunk at dinner cause his heart to stop beating, his lungs to stop breathing.”
“That’s… that’s not my fault!” Caroline shrieked. “I didn’t know he would… How could I know— it was George’s idea to—”
“It is entirely your fault,” Louisa snapped, her voice rising. “Youpoisonedhim, Caroline. You poisoned usallwith that cursed tea. If you hadn’t been so obsessed with your schemes, he would still be alive.”
“But I never had any intention of— I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’tcare!” Louisa shouted, her composure breaking entirely. Tears streamed down her face as she pointed a trembling finger at her sister. “You didn’t care who got hurt as long as you got what you wanted. And now your selfish actions mean my child will grow up without a father.”
Caroline’s jaw dropped, and for a moment, she seemed too stunned to speak. “Your child?” she whispered, her eyes darting to Louisa’s midsection. “You’re… you’re pregnant?”
Louisa drew herself up, her hand resting protectively over her abdomen. “Yes. And because of you, my child will never know its father.”
Caroline took a step back, her eyes wide with disbelief. “But it wasn’t my fault,” she repeatedly weakly, her voice trembling. “I didn’t force him to drink. He was a drunkard—a useless, oafish sot! You should be grateful, Louisa, free of the burden of him.”
Louisa’s hand lashed out with a sharp crack, her palm connecting with Caroline’s already bruised cheek. “Grateful?” she hissed, her voice shaking with rage. “You think I should be grateful for losing my husband? For losing the father of my child?”
Caroline reeled from the blow, her hand flying to her injured face. Her eyes welled with tears, but her expression hardened almost instantly. “Fine,” she spat. “You want to blame me for everything? Go ahead. But don’t pretend that you didn’t resent him just as much as I did. He was an embarrassment to this family.”
Louisa’s face twisted with grief and fury. “You are the embarrassment,” she hissed. “You’ve destroyed everything, Caroline. Our family, our reputation—everything.”
Caroline’s composure crumbled, and she sank to the floor in a fit of sobs. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” she wailed, her hands clutching at her hair. “I was supposed to marry Darcy.”
“That was never going to happen,” Darcy added. “From the very moment I met you, your arrogance, your conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others convinced me that you were the last woman in the world whom I could be prevailed upon to marry.”
“No!” Caroline shrieked. “I was supposed to be the mistress of Pemberley!”
“And instead,” Louisa wiped away her tears as she straightened her shoulders, “you are the wife of a liar and a criminal. And you will answer for what you’ve done.”
Caroline’s sobs turned frantic, her voice rising hysterically and she reached out for her sister. “Louisa, please! You’re my sister. You have to help me. You can’t let them—”
“I have no sister,” Louisa said icily, turning her back on the wailing woman. “My sister died the day you killed my husband.”
Caroline stared at her in open-mouthed horror, her face pale and stricken. “Louisa,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You don’t mean that.”
“I mean every word,” Louisa said, refusing to look back. “I never want to see you again.”
The footmen moved forward at Darcy’s nod, lifting Caroline to her feet as she thrashed and screamed. “No! Get your hands off of me! Louisa— Louisa! You can’t send me away! Louisa, please!”
“Mr. Roberts,” Darcy said, his voice steady but firm, “Please ask Mrs. Nicholls to see that Mrs. Wickham is sedated if necessary.”
As the footmen began dragging Caroline toward the door, her desperation boiled over. “No! You can’t do this!” she shrieked, twisting and clawing at their grip. Her wild gaze darted around the room before landing on Darcy. Her voice broke into a pleading wail. “Darcy! Fitzwilliam, darling! Please! Marry me!”
“I regret to inform you, madam, that it would be impossible—bigamy is illegal.”
“I’ll deny the marriage in Scotland! It can all be undone!”
Elizabeth stepped forward, her voice clear and steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling in the room. “He would never do that,” she declared, her gaze fierce and unwavering. “Because he is already married—to me.”
A collective gasp rippled through the room, Caroline’s sobs halting abruptly as her head whipped around to face Elizabeth. “Married?” she whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief. “To you? That’s not possible.”
Elizabeth took another step forward, her composure unshaken. “It is not only possible, Mrs. Wickham—it is fact.” She glanced at Darcy, who stood tall and unyielding beside her, before turning her full attention back to Caroline. “The scandal caused by your drugged tea forced action. Darcy and I were married the same day Jane wed Mr. Bingley—about the same time you would have been getting married in Scotland.”
Caroline’s face twisted in horror, her voice rising into a hysterical pitch. “No, no, no! It can’t be! He would never lower himself to… to you! This can be annulled. Surely, Darcy, you’ll see reason! You can’t mean to stay tied to her.”
Darcy grinned, flashing heretofore unseen dimples that caused even Jane and Louisa to gasp. “I’m afraid,Mrs. Wickham, that there is no possibility of an annulment.” He turned to give Elizabeth a wicked smirk. “I have made quite sure of that,” he finished with a satisfied smile, his eyes never leaving his wife’s.
