Caroline Bingley is my favourite character. I always felt that there had to be more to her story. Her brother Charles is so amiable and kind and yet she has a very fake and unpleasant demeanour, why? I liked how the 2005 film potrayed her so much that I wanted to write a story about her. There will be some Elizabeth/Carolina pairing. Hope you like it.
Chapter 1- The Early years.
"Caroline! Caroline! What in heavens name are you doing child?"
The flushed nanny asked out of breath from pursuing the red-headed child, now caught firmly in her grasp. Caroline was also flushed with freckles splashed all over her delicate face, she had been running all over the park with Charles, Master Darcy and Master Wickham only moments before. Now however, the joyous smile was wiped clean off her face, and large orbs welled in her blue eyes.
"I was only playing with Charlie and M-Master D-"
"Girls don't play! Girls must be proper young ladies, not rambunctious wild vixens!"
The plump nanny spat at the six year old.
"Suppose you had fainted, suppose you had caught your death! What would your father make of me eh? He'd chuck me out of your home, he would! Wouldn't that be a grateful way to repay your kind old nurse for looking after you?"
As she spoke her grip tightened on Caroline's arms so much that Caroline whimpered in pain, but to no avail, the stronghold did not lessen. She looked around in vain for a sign of her elder brother or his playmates, but they had long since gone…for they were much faster with their longer legs and trousers instead of a heavy dress and corset.
"I'm sorry nurse."
Caroline said meekly seeing that no one would avenge her. But still stubbornness took hold, and she refused to remove her gaze from the old croon whose arms she was in. And even with her guilty pleading eyes turned on the elder, she also held a look of hatred and spite. At hearing these small apologetic words the nanny nodded twice, before releasing Caroline, taking hold of her left hand instead.
"Well you should be. You aren't a boy!"
The old woman began as they slowly made their way back to the manor. The nanny limping a little, and heaving great breaths that she had forgotten to apply a moment before.
"Though it might have been better if you were a boy, I've never heard of a gentlemen like Mr. Bingley having only one son to his name. A good son, no doubt, yes Master Bingly is quite a good son. Still yet though, its such a shame that there couldn't have been another. All the Bingley boys are so sweet tempered and good natured…and yet it never fails that every Bingley girl is a vixen! A terror! Somehow, God willin' I'll break it out of you though, you'll be a lady and compliment to dear late Mrs. Bingley if it kills me. That I swear."
They had reached the house now, and The old croon ushered young Caroline up the back stairway.
"Katie? Will you be a dear a get Miss Bingly cleaned up for dinner, I think I've had about my fill of her today."
"Yes ma'am. Come with me Miss."
And so the day proceded, with a highly uncomfortable dinner, in which Caroline was constantly reminded to sit up properly and wipe her mouth with her napkin, whilst her brother was consistently praised for his looks, talents, cheerfulness, and most of all his humbleness. But Caroline wasn't bitter towards her brother. No, on the contrary, Caroline wanted the approval of her brother more than anyone else, and loved him more than anyone else. Simply because he was the only one whom she knew really loved her. But it was more than that, Charles was sincere, all his praise was well deserved, for he truly was a remarkable boy.
Years past, and Caroline slowly subsided to the reality that she must become a lady. That she must never run, play, hunt, skip rocks, fox hunt, climb trees, or camp. She must instead play piano, read boring literature, sew tedious patterns, and paint silly pointless pictures. Every day was like a never ending drill. She was observed and reprimanded when her longing eyes cast towards the window. And so, slowly, very slowly, she gave up. Her sprit died, and she began to believe that perhaps she was wrong, completely wrong and needed to be corrected. She must marry, and no man would want to marry a tomboy. She was a strange alien female in a sea of men and she must mold her mind and alter her ways. So she learned to sew, and play piano, and paint, but none of it interested her, no joy ever became her. She became cold and distant. Hating the people who had made her this way. Hating anyone who was happy.
In her early childhood years, Caroline had harbored an enormous crush on Fitzwilliam Darcy. And he in turn had liked her as well. Master Darcy was over quite frequently for both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy were good friends, and colleges in London. So Mr. Darcy would often bring his children and his ward with him when he came, and in doing so Master Darcy and Charles had become the best of friends. Georgiana had likewise tried to become Caroline's friend, but where Georgiana liked tea parties, Caroline liked climbing trees. So Caroline attached herself to the boys. On one of there happy summer afternoons, before the dreaded nanny had snatched Caroline away from her utopian existence forever, an everlasting event in Caroline's mind took place. She had been five, Charles seven, and Darcy eight. Her brother had run down to the creek where George, Darcy and Caroline were sitting in a large oak tree.
"Master Darcy, why don't you ever talk to me?"
Black haired, black browed Darcy turned with a frown to look at his questionnaire. Caroline was straddling the limb next to his, the hem of her dress an inch deep in mud. And her red ringlets cascading in waves around her face. After a long pause he answered.
"Because your Bingley's sister, and I'm not supposed to like you. And you're a girl."
With that he turned back to the view in front of him. Deeply wounded by this remark, and yet ecstatic at the same time Caroline cried.
"I'm not a girl!" Darcy turned back.
"Yes, you are a girl, and your Bingley's little sister!"
"I am not little! And girls can't climb trees, and I can! Your sister's a girl and I'm not like her, am I?"
Caroline pouted her little red lips out daring him to disagree. After another pause, Darcy laughed. He laughed so hard and for so long, that he had to lean against the trunk of the tree to do so.
"May I ask, what is so funny?" Caroline said flustered.
"Nothing- nothing, you're right, you're nothing like my sister."
Darcy said recovering. Caroline beamed, but then asked suddenly"
"Do you prefer your sister?"
"I love my sister." Darcy said simply
"Oh."
"But I like you quite a lot."
And with that Darcy leaned in and chastely kissed Caroline on the lips. And from that day forward Caroline always loved Fitzwilliam Darcy.
However years later, as Caroline was molded, and reshaped, Darcy's eye strayed from hers. His hand did not brush against her own in church, or at dinner. And his laugh grew seldom. But believing that her old ways were completely in fault, Caroline simply assumed that she was not beautiful enough or talented enough for Darcy. And became even more determined, to win his heart again no matter how many changes she had to undertake. She began wearing outrageously frilly dresses, embroidering, and holding tea parties. Still though Darcy was indifferent. She tried shadowing him, taking on his own mannerisms, but the more she tried, the more he withdrew. Often at night Caroline would cry herself to sleep, she was surely the worst lady and no man would ever want to marry her.
A/N: I hope you liked it, the next chapter will be better, its just really late over here. Review.