Hello! So, this is my first piece of published fanfiction ever. EVER. Scary, right? But don't take that as needing to go easy on me - I've written plenty of non-fanfic stuff before.
This story idea came while I was reading Pride and Prejudice for English class. I've always kind of liked Caroline Bingley - I love rooting for the female-dogs of a story (Scarlett O'Hara, Lady Mary Crawley, Emma Woodhouse). Anyhow, we were asked to predict what happened to certain characters after the book ended and I started playing around with the idea of Caroline marrying another man for his wealth but still secretly pining for Darcy, a la Scarlett O'Hara and Ashley Wilkes.
In reading this you can assume that everything that happened to Scarlett and Rhett happened to Caroline and Richard, minus Bonnie and the Civil War. Also, Caroline has only been married once. I think it should be pretty obvious what other characters correspond to whom, though Melly's character has been split between Jane and Elizabeth. As Darcy's wife, Elizabeth had to be the one to die, but I feel like Elizabeth's death-bed reaction to Caroline would be a bit more Went With The Wind style, if you catch my drift. ;) Thus, Jane gets all the sweet lines. Also, apologies for Darcy being Ashley - I hate Ashley, but Darcy's one of my favorite fictional gents of all time. Thus, Darcy's a bit OOC, but at the same time I don't think I stretched things too far ...
All characters are Jane Austen's, but all situations are more or less Margaret Mitchell's. Much of the later dialogue is paraphrased from the end of GWTW, with a few notable lines being directly stolen (eg. My dear I don't give a damn.) I wish they were my own, but alas, they are not! Basically, if it looks familiar it's probably not mine. :)
Oh, and one last thing - if you haven't read either GWTW or P&P, this will contain major spoilers! Though, with GWTW at least I think it's more fun to read knowing the ending, because you can sit back and watch the trainwreck. Well, enjoy!
When Caroline Bingley married her husband she had had two things on her mind – money and revenge. When asked later in her marriage she would admit to some level of fondness for him, but it was a similar fondness to that she felt for the small dog he had bought her on their first anniversary.
Not to say that Captain Richard Baker was anything like the small asthmatic pug that did nothing but lick her feet and chase its tail for its own amusement. No, her husband was a different creature entirely. At times she wished that she had married a doddering old fool that she might treat like a dog, as she often felt uncomfortable certain that she was the pet in the relationship.
She wasn't sure why he had married her to begin with. She was wealthy, yes, but so was he. She brought some level of consequence to the marriage, but after years of reflection she was forced to admit that it was all imaginary. As the daughter of a man who had made his fortune in trade she was truthfully little better than the Naval Captain that she had flattered herself to be bringing up in society. To be honest, Caroline Bingley Baker did not understand her husband in the slightest, a fact she was loath to admit.
He certainly did not love her – he had told her as much on many occasions. But this was perfectly alright, as she did not love him either. For this, at least, she was thankful. How dreadful it would be to be always pretending to love a man when her heart truly belonged to someone else!
Fitzwilliam Darcy. She had loved him since she was sixteen and first presented to society, when her brother had brought him to her presentation at court. He was utterly, completely perfect – and most unfortunately married.
Of course, she knew he would rather he were not. Perhaps he had loved Elizabeth, once upon a time, but after years of her teasing and degrading relations any love had surely dissipated. If she had been a romantic perhaps Caroline would have seen a bit of poetry in the idea of their love, separated only by their own unfortunate spouses, but Caroline had never been one for novels, even if Richard did wish she'd read more. He had tried on many occasions to introduce her to the greats, but she had resisted with considerable vigor. To this Richard had simply laughed and warned her that she would one day appreciate such works, but by then be too old and blind to read them. Caroline just scoffed.
She was thankful, at least, that Richard did not seek to alter her in any other material way. He encouraged her cruel temper and biting words, as though they amused them. The only thing he could not tolerate from her was a lie, or any feminine artfulness for that matter. This had been quite an adjustment for Caroline, as her style had used to be characterized nearly exclusively by such, but it could not be disputed that she came out the better for it. In many ways, Richard was exactly the sort of husband Caroline needed; he just wasn't the sort that she wanted.
Though Richard had only been a naval captain he was exceedingly wealthy. His fortune combined with Caroline's generous dowry had been enough to make them second only to the Darcys of Pemberley, a fact Caroline never forgot. Just how her husband had acquired so much wealth she was not precisely sure, but if she had learnt anything in her years of marriage to Richard, it was that the answers to such question were rarely what she wanted to here.
After their wedding and Richard's discharge they had purchased a large piece of land in Derbyshire, only four miles distant from the grand estate at Pemberley. Though Richard had wanted to purchase an old estate Caroline had insisted on building anew. He had humored her, indulging her every whim, which lead to the construction of a grandiose house he affectionately referred to as her architectural horror. He had also been loath to build so close to Pemberley, citing as his reason the fact that two such grand houses in close proximity must always be in comparison, but Caroline had insisted.
In the years following a strange sort of friendship had grown up between the two families. Richard enjoyed Mrs. Darcy's lively wit, and she respected him for his ability to match her on any occasion. When the Bingley's had quit Netherfield and joined them all in Derbyshire they had joined the happy party, providing a much needed easiness of temper to diffuse the arguments frequent among the Darcys and Bakers.
Mrs. Bingley was perhaps the only person that Richard had ever respected, a fact which bothered Caroline to no end. Jane was undeniably sweet and Caroline had grudgingly learned to value her temperament, but she dearly wished that she – his wife, no less – were the one to hold his respect. To him she seemed to be nothing more than an amusing investment.
At times she wondered if he would like her better if she were unflappably positive like the always respectable Mrs. Bingley. Caroline had never once seen her unsettled, not until the day in early March when she appeared on the Bakers' doorstep, her hair falling out and coat clutched around her, as though grabbed as an afterthought.
"Good God, whatever is the matter?" exclaimed Caroline, glancing around to be sure that no one else was present to witness her sister-in-law's disgraceful appearance.
"Lizzy," said Jane simply, her voice shaky and her eyes brimming with tears. "There's been an accident."
With that she collapsed into Caroline's arms, sobbing freely. Feeling intensely uncomfortable Caroline tried to comfort her, all the while wondering at the lump of dread that had settled into her stomach. Could she really be worried for Elizabeth Darcy's welfare?
"What kind of accident?" probed Caroline, awkwardly stroking Jane's messed up hair.
"The carriage," choked Jane. "It overturned into a stream and – oh Caroline, Dr. Olver doesn't believe she'll last the night."
"Good Lord," exclaimed Caroline, horrified. She held Jane closer, barely able to imagine what she must be feeling. To lose a sister so beloved! Caroline had never loved anyone enough to even comprehend Jane's feelings, a fact she was unfortunately aware of.
"Please, Caroline – you have to come with me to Pemberley."
"Yes, of course," said Caroline automatically. Jane seemed relieved.
"And naturally Captain Baker –"
Caroline tensed at the mention of her husband. As a mask of indifference fell over her face she carefully extracted herself from Jane's embrace. "Captain Baker is away at the moment," she said stiffly.
"Oh," was all Jane could say.
"I'll ask Mrs. Thomas to tell him when he returns, but I cannot say when that will be." She forced a smile. "His business is always so pressing at this time of year."
Both women were fully aware that Captain Baker was not on an errand of business purposes, but Jane's delicate sensibilities and Caroline's own embarrassment left the matter undiscussed.
"Well then," said Jane, taking a deep breath to collect herself. "We had best be heading to Pemberley."
The grand house was in an uproar. Every maid, every footman – indeed, even the portraits that hung upon the walls – seemed to be frantically worried for their beloved mistress. When the two ladies entered they were immediately and silently shown up to the bedchamber where Mrs. Darcy lay.
All notions of propriety had been forgotten in light of the present tragedy. The doors of the room were flung open and all manner of persons walked in and out, seemingly regardless to the fact that they were in the room of the lady of the house.
"Oh Lizzy," cried Jane, rushing to the bed. Caroline followed quickly behind her, surprised to find tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat. "Oh Caroline, what are we going to do?"
Elizabeth Bennet Darcy lay upon the grand four-poster bed, looking half-dead already. Her face was bruised and swollen, and no one had bothered to remove her muddied dress and boots. Her hair had fallen out of its always elegant coif as she rolled fitfully about, drifting in an out of consciousness.
Caroline couldn't bear to look at her. As Jane continued to minister to her dying sister she stood quickly up and turned to one of the maids who was bringing in fresh towels. "What did Dr. Olver say?" she asked, surprised at how commanding she sounded. The maid looked away and bit her lip.
"There's been a lot of damage to her brain, Mrs. Baker," she said sadly. "She won't live much more than a few hours."
Caroline nodded, too stunned to say anything more. As much as she hated the fact, Elizabeth Darcy had always been the strongest lady of her acquaintance. If she died how could anyone else survive?
The maid looked up at her. "We're very glad you're here, Mrs. Baker. We won't know what to do without Mrs. Darcy."
"Of course," said Caroline uncomfortably as she marveled at the maid's evident love and respect for her mistress. She wondered if any of her servants would shed a tear at her death – probably not, she realized. Why would they? She wasn't even sure her husband would.
From the corner of her eye Caroline saw Lizzy suddenly fall into another fit of convulsions, a confused, feverish cry echoing up from her body as though she were possessed by a demon. "What's wrong with her?" asked Caroline, realizing only after she said it how insensitive it might sound. She didn't care, though. It was an honest question and she wanted an answer.
"We don't know, Mrs. Baker," said the maid sadly. "Dr. Olver only said that he couldn't help her and didn't want to pain Mr. Darcy with unnecessary explanations."
"Mr. Darcy," repeated Caroline, thinking of him for the first time since entering Pemberley. Had she been the sort for deep psychological ponderings she might have wondered that her worry for Elizabeth could eclipse her love for Darcy. It certainly wasn't a normal occurrence, but then nothing was normal about this evening. "Where are Mr. Darcy and the children?"
"In Mrs. Darcy's parlor," said the maid. "Julia and Thomas are too young to understand what's happening and Mr. Darcy – well, forgive me, Mrs. Baker, but I don't think he quite understands it either. At least, he doesn't want to."
"Of course," said Caroline. If she were in Mr. Darcy's place she wouldn't want to understand it either.
The maid gave a slight curtsy then hurried out of the room, having already been detained longer than was acceptable. Caroline took a deep breath and moved towards Jane, who was sobbing against her sister's bed. "Caroline, what am I going to do without her?" choked Jane. "Losing my dearest sister – oh, oh I didn't mean it like that, Caroline. You know that you are very dear to me, it's just that Lizzy is –"
"I understood," said Caroline, carefully leading Jane away from the bed. "I understand."
As Jane allowed herself to be led away, sobbing into her sister-in-law's shoulder, Caroline probed her own heart and came to the shocking revelation that she didn't want Elizabeth to die. Elizabeth simply couldn't leave them behind – she was so strong, so willful. If anyone was going to live it would be Elizabeth Darcy.
Guilt overwhelmed her as she realized just how much she had undervalued Elizabeth. How frequently she had wished her dead or just gone off to the Americas or India, simply to have her out of the way! And yet, now that her wish was being granted, she found that she would do anything to take it back.
"It's so good of you to be here, Caroline," said Jane softly, watching as Dr. Olver returned to examine his dying patient. "I'm sure that Lizzy would be very glad to have you here."
"Don't be ridiculous," said Caroline sharply, her voice hollow and devoid of emotion. She knew that the servants were judging her for her stoicism but she couldn't find the will to care. She was not the fragile grieving sister like Jane. No, she was a woman whose entire world had been wrenched upside down; such confusion did not make itself known in delicate, lady-like outpourings. "Elizabeth never liked me to begin with."
"Oh you mustn't say that," cried Jane. "Really, you mustn't. Elizabeth loved you like a sister."
Only Jane's affectionate disposition could have misconstrued events in such a positive way, but for once Caroline was glad of it. If only she had treated Elizabeth like a sister, for that was truly what the woman had deserved.
As Dr. Olver bent over the unfortunate lady, doing his best to ease her final moments Caroline stared blankly ahead, finding that all logic was suddenly failing her. Surely there was more that he could be doing than helping her into the next life – for a woman as strong and lively as Elizabeth there must yet be some way to save her. For one illogical moment Caroline thought to send away for a renowned London physician but as soon as the thought crossed her mind she dismissed it. Surely Mr. Darcy would have done everything in his power to save his wife; there was nothing more that she could offer.
And yet Elizabeth was so full of life! So stuffed to bursting with excitement and gaiety and all things happy. With a pang of guilt and sadness Caroline remembered how she had once scoffed at the mud on Elizabeth's petticoats – what she would give to again see her running through the countryside, carefree and wild yet still more ladylike than Caroline could ever hope to be.
Jane was still sobbing quietly into her shoulder, but Caroline desperately wanted to get away from it all. Her head was spinning with all the newfound revelations – Elizabeth simply couldn't die. What would she do without her?
"It won't be long now." Dr. Olver's heavy words jerked Caroline from her thoughts. "I'm sorry that I couldn't do more for her – I'll be sorry to see her gone."
Caroline nodded automatically, years of etiquette lessons finally resurfacing in the moment of crisis. "We know you did your best," she assured the doctor with a strangely calm and completely foreign voice. "We'll all be sorry to be without her."
The doctor tipped his hat at the ladies then left to inform Mr. Darcy of the news. With the other man gone Caroline expected Jane to fly back to her sister's side, but it seemed that such proximity to the dying was now too much for Jane's delicate psyche. "I suppose she's going to a better place?" whispered Jane, her voice broken and low. Again, Caroline nodded automatically. "And she lived a very good life."
"Indeed," said Caroline, righteous anger surging up within her – perhaps the only righteous anger she had ever felt. "But there was still so much good left for her."
"Oh don't say that," sobbed Jane, fresh tears springing to her eyes. "It must be God's will and you mustn't go against that."
Caroline bit back an angry retort, not wanting to offend her much more pious sister-in-law. God's will her foot – He had no right to take Elizabeth Darcy away.
"If only she weren't leaving so much behind," continued Jane as she glanced to the door to the sitting room where Darcy and the children waited. "Her family and our families and – well, everyone."
"All of Derbyshire will be in black for months," replied Caroline, her words seeming to jest but her tone deadly serious. She paused for a moment then added, "It should have been me."
"What?" asked Jane, sure she had misheard. Caroline just closed her eyes.
"It should have been me," she repeated. "No one would care if I died."
Jane's eyes became wide and she hugged her sister-in-law tightly. "You mustn't say such things, Caroline! You know fully well that we'd all be distraught without you – I and Charles and Lizzie and of course Captain Baker –"
Caroline gave a derisive laugh, cutting off Jane's overly-generous list. "You know as well as I Jane that Captain Baker couldn't care less about me. He's probably off drinking at some whore-house, not even aware that Elizabeth is dying." She knew she should be ashamed of her husband's behavior but the normal guilt didn't come. It was the truth, after all, and in her six years of marriage her talents of deception had been decidedly dulled at the hands of her husband. Damn him.
If Jane was shocked by Caroline's frankness she didn't let it show in her features. Instead she fixed her sister-in-law with a sad, pitying gaze, the sort that only she could give without offense. "You mustn't say that, Caroline. You know you mustn't. Why, Captain Baker loves you more than any man ever loved a woman."
Caroline wanted to roll her eyes at Jane's naïveté. "You know he's utterly indifferent to me," she snapped. Jane just shook her head.
"Oh Caroline," she said with a sad sort of smile, "I've seen my share of indifferent marriages, and believe me – yours isn't one of them."
With another pitying glance Jane returned to the bedside of her sister, leaving Caroline to stare on in confusion. The thought that Captain Baker loved her was laughable, ridiculous, and yet she had rarely heard Jane say something with such conviction. Could it be? Did he really consider her something more than his spoiled little pet, or an object of impersonal lust? For a moment triumph flashed in her mind – oh how she would lord it over him! How she would make him pay for the anguish and embarrassment he had caused her from that first moment he had caught her in the library at Pemberley, begging Mr. Darcy to reconsider his engagement and throwing vases against the wall.
But as soon as the cruel thoughts flitted through her mind they were gone and replaced by complete and utter confusion. If he loved her why had he never said anything? Why had he teased her and fought her and lead her to believe that he cared nothing for her? Why, if he loved her as much as Jane said, was he off drinking and cavorting with illiterate whores rather than standing beside her in her hour of need? Suddenly Caroline felt overwhelmed with senses, as though the very air of the sick room were trying to swallow her up and drown her. With only a backwards glance at Jane and Elizabeth she bolted out of the room to the parlor where Mr. Darcy waited.
He hardly looked up at her entrance, choosing instead to stare into the fire as though contained within its flames was the answer to all life's mysteries. Julia and Thomas had apparently been taken away by their nursemaid and Dr. Olver had finished his business, leaving Caroline and Mr. Darcy alone for the first time since she had comforted him the night of his birthday party.
It was an uncomfortable memory, one that Caroline had no desire to relive. He had confused her with his talk of old values and the honor of Pemberley, seemingly marred by Wickham's sudden appearance and insistence on joining the celebration, but she had comforted him all the same. Of course, they had been spotted by the ever wary young Miss Darcy, leading to embarrassment such that Caroline had never known. And of course, there was the night following with Richard, the memory of which was enough to make Caroline blush a deep and most unbecoming red.
"Mr. Darcy?" she asked softly as she cautiously approached him. If he was aware of her presence he made no move to show it. "How are you?"
He was utterly silent, only staring into the fire. Caroline opened her mouth to repeat the question but was cut off when he abruptly spoke. "I don't think I can do this, Caroline."
"Pardon?" Caroline was taken aback by the resigned sadness in his voice. Mr. Darcy had always been her point of strength, the towering, honorable master of Pemberley. Whenever anything had gone wrong in her life it had been he that she looked to, knowing full well that none of her female acquaintances would care. They would put on shows for the public, of course, but she knew they were silently glorying in her failures, just as she would do to them. She supposed that her husband had tried to offer her comfort in his own strange, teasing, infuriating way, but it had always been Darcy's calm presence to which she had attributed her strength.
"I can't live without Lizzy – she's my happiness, my strength. And Julia and Thomas - they can't live without a mother. I try to be a good father but it's their mother they love. It's their mother that everyone loves."
"That's not true!" screamed Caroline, but only in her mind. "I love you and I've never cared a whit for Lizzy!" Yet even as the thoughts came she realized the lie within them. She had wanted to hate Lizzy for stealing away the love of her life, for lowering him with her degrading connections, but in truth Lizzy had been unhateable. Enough to drive Caroline and even Mr. Darcy at times to annoyance, yes, but never an object of true hatred.
With a heavy sigh Darcy continued, finally turning around to look at Caroline. She was shocked to see the real pain and anguish in his eyes – and not only that, but weakness. Captain Baker would never show such emotions, she was sure. He could be sad, but never weak. Never helpless. "I don't think I can stand to picture a world without her."
Conflicting emotions rushed through Caroline's heart as a startling realization hit her. "You – you really do love her, don't you?" Darcy nodded.
"More than anything. She's my heart, my soul, my life." He frowned at her, an expression that would usually have set her to tears but now only bewildered her. "Did you think I lowered myself, offended my family, married my enemy's sister-in-law all for the fun of it?"
"Well, no –" stuttered a confused Caroline. "I didn't think – but Mr. Darcy, all those times we talked to each other, when Lizzy was gone – all those times –" She broke off, shocked to realize that she had perhaps misconstrued his actions, actions which she had considered the one constant in her life.
Darcy sighed. "I talked to you, Caroline, out of guilty habit – and I hate myself for everything that I once said. I couldn't complain to Lizzy about her relations! She would laugh, for my sake, but I knew it hurt her to think that I regretted our connection. But you – you were so vicious to everyone. You made me feel as though I could say anything about them, and it would be alright for surely I was mild by comparison."
Caroline's head was reeling. He spoke it all with such tortured acceptance, it could be nothing but the truth. Could Darcy have only considered her as an idle partner for gossip, a sharp tongue to ease his own conscience? And he was the man to whom she had been utterly devoted, for years and years! The man that she had begged not to marry, had fantasized about at every private moment, had led her to estrange her husband and bring misery to her household – it had all been for his sake, and now she saw it had all been for naught. He had never returned her feelings. Perhaps he had been flattered by them but in the absence of his wife the flattery had morphed to guilt.
She felt dirty and vilified, having been used for so very long, and readily complying to such use at that! She stared at him in horror, certain she had never truly seen him before.
"I – I must go," she croaked, her eyes wide and her face surely one of utter shock. Darcy did not seem to notice her abrupt change in manner; his attention was back to the fire.
Caroline bolted from the room, flying through the familiar halls of Pemberley as though her life depended on it. She tried not to think about anything for each new thought brought with it another painful revelation. As she tore across the elegantly manicured lawn, so different from the tasteless shrubberies of her own front walk, she began to wonder if she had ever really loved Darcy at all.
With a painful heart she saw it all in stunning clarity, as though presented to her as the life of another. Her infatuation with Mr. Darcy had been nothing more than a desperate attempt to cling at old dreams – the dream of status and wealth, of marrying a man of established gentility who might elevate her to a titled rank someday. Fitzwilliam Darcy had seemed the perfect match to her twenty-year old self, but now with the benefit of maturity and hindsight she saw the impracticality of it all.
She was too headstrong, too vivacious. She couldn't abide reading and sitting by the fire contemplating life – no, Caroline had always longed for adventure and finery, for the perfect balance of wealth and importance that might always furnish her every whim and give her the right to tell all the world to go to hell. She saw now that Darcy was master of Pemberley not because he loved fine estates and wealth but because of the honor and importance of it all. She couldn't care less about honor, an imagined concept created by the old established English families. What was honor to the tangible realities of wealth and finery? She almost laughed aloud as she realized that this was exactly what Richard had been telling her for years.
Richard.
Could Jane's suppositions really be true? Could it be that his distance and cruel words were driven not out of spite but from years of hopeless, unrequited love? How horrible she suddenly felt. How utterly awful to know that your wife had always loved another man. But then, she hadn't loved Mr. Darcy, not really. And if she hadn't loved him then …
Was it possible that she loved Richard? How strange, to love one's own husband! She had always been of the opinion that it was the height of bad form for husbands and wives to love each other, the exception being of course if she and Mr. Darcy were to wed. A giddy laugh bubbled up within her as she remembered how happy Richard had made her, when he had been in the habit of pleasing, and how alive he made her feel whenever they touched. Mr. Darcy had never done such things to her – he had always been a distant dream, a fantasy construct of the man she thought she ought to love. Richard had been beside her through it all. He knew her every imperfection, every selfish impulse that she tried to hide from decent society, and yet he still loved her for it. Indeed, the only fault that did not endear her to him was her supposed love of Mr. Darcy!
How happy he would be when she told him the good news! For there could be no other way of looking at it – she was in love with Captain Richard Baker.
She hastened her already quick pace as their magnificently unattractive estate drew into view. Her heart beat quickly with the ardor of newly discovered love and her imagination rapidly pictured the happiness that would surely follow their new-found understanding. They had wasted years in pride and miscommunication, but she was determined that that would end today. The Bakers would have the sort of happy marriage that made respectable people frown, disapproving of so much felicity in one household, and Caroline found herself positively giddy at the thought.
It was not till she reached the lane of their house that she realized he might not be home. Surely an express had been dispatched as soon as Elizabeth's condition was known, but, she thought ruefully, he might at that point have been too drunk to care. If he had returned he would certainly have been at Pemberley to provide his comfort and advice – but she was the one who needed his comfort now. Elizabeth was nearly dead but she, Caroline, had a wonderful life still in view.
"Richard?" she called softly as she entered the foyer, hoping that the light in the dining room betrayed his presence. If it were only Mrs. Thomas how her heart would break! She traipsed into the room, her heart still pounding with emotion and excitement but her manners suddenly characterized by a sort of nervous caution. It had been quite a while since she had confessed her undying love to a man, and the first time had been rather unpleasant.
There he sat at the table, the man whom she was only just beginning to value, the man who had stood by her through everything and, at least according to Jane, loved her the better for all her many faults. There was an empty bottle before him and the air smelled of brandy, a scent all too unfortunately familiar in the Baker household. She supposed she should have counted on his being drunk – it was nothing out of the ordinary nowadays.
Richard drank like no other man Caroline had ever met. When intoxicated he seemed to become more charming, more cruel and yet more eerily composed. Caroline had always assumed that gentlemen did only two types of drinking – the polite sort, wine after dinner and something stronger for births and engagements and such, and the sort of drinking that left them tottery and easily managed by their wives. Indeed, when Louisa's husband became drunk it only served to make him more pliable to his wife's ideas, and Caroline had reason to suspect that Louisa, however much she might complain, encouraged his unpleasant habits.
But Richard – when Richard drank it was an entirely different matter. He could hold his liquor like no other. Indeed, she could think only of one time when he had lost control of himself, and the very memory was enough to make her bright red. She tried to put it out of her mind – it wouldn't do to look flushed at the moment.
"Is she dead?"
"What?" Caroline was startled by the sudden breaking of the silence. For a moment she wasn't even sure who had spoken, for his voice sounded hollow and tired, and he had barely moved at all.
"Miss Elizabeth. Is she dead?"
Caroline nodded, a tear slowly falling down her cheek. She had been so caught up in her new-found love for her husband that she had momentarily forgotten the strife that had brought about the realization. It suddenly seemed wrong to be confessing love under such an occasion – one of her only friends was dead, and she had not seen the value in her until it was much too late.
"Oh Richard," she choked, gripping the molding of the doorway as though it were the only solid thing in her newly tempestuous world. Perhaps it was. "Richard, why didn't you come to Pemberley?"
He looked up briefly, seeming to note the real sadness in her features, then again turned his attention to his empty drink. "I couldn't have stood it. She was a great lady."
Caroline nodded, though she couldn't be sure that he saw her. She stared down at where the plush velvet rug met the dark wooden paneling of the wall, wishing it were something less resemblant of a coffin.
"Well, I suppose this makes matters quite convenient for you, my dear."
"What?" exclaimed Caroline, her eyes snapping up to him. "How can you say such a thing! You know I cared for her!"
Richard only shrugged. "My pet, I can't say that I do. If you did then you certainly had an odd way of showing it. Why, not even Miss Jane could have missed your barely concealed hostility. But now she is gone and Mr. Darcy is a widower, making it all rather nice for you."
Caroline was outraged. Mr. Darcy was nothing to her now! Had never been anything! Could he not see that it was he that she loved – she was sure it was plainly written on her features. "But I –"
"No, no need for protest. I'll have my lawyer draw up the divorce directly. Then you need only wait the proper interval and –"
"Divorce?" repeated Caroline in a shaky voice. Surely he was teasing her. He couldn't truly mean to divorce her, not if he loved her as Jane said. "I can't get a –"
He laughed, a low, sinister, hollow laugh that chilled her to the core. "So the charming Miss Bingley has finally grown a sense of propriety. Don't worry, you needn't tell anyone of your shame. I can conveniently die in a boating accident, or a sudden resurgence of the plague – whichever you think would delight your parlor acquaintances most. I'm sorry I can't truly offer to die for you, my dear, but you see I can't in good conscience give my life for Darcy's happiness."
Caroline was speechless. In all their years of marriage he had teased her and tricked her and stabbed her with harsh words but there had always been an underlying smile, a twinkle in his dark eye. He had often told her such things simply to get a rise out of her, but now he seemed deadly serious.
"Richard I –" She bit her tongue, not wanting to appear foolish but still desperately needing to tell him the truth. "Richard, I don't care a whit for Darcy's happiness!"
"Oh?" He looked up at her with about as much interest as one takes in the weather. "And what, pray tell, has brought about this sudden revelation?"
She just stared at him, her tongue tied. Wasn't this what he had been waiting years to hear? Her disregard for Darcy was tantamount to professing her love to him. But then, she rationalized, he was likely sore after all her years of misguided neglect. Oh how happy they would be once she proved her devotion and he accepted her again. "Well," she said, "he's just a fool. He never loved me, and he's nothing like me, and oh Richard I –"
"No." He held up his hand, stopping her declaration cold. "Please, my dear, I have no desire to hear it. Let us part with at least a bit of dignity left in our marriage."
Part? The word swirled through her mind like a raging wave, threatening to drown her and leave her for dead. Surely he didn't really mean what he said about divorce! And as for not wanting to hear her – well, he mustn't know what she was about to say.
"Richard, darling," she tried again, hurrying across the room to where he sat. If only he would draw her up in his arms, sparing her the need to express her feelings in words. "Richard, I've been so stupid –"
"I won't deny that."
She laughed aloud, a giddy, joyous laugh. He was teasing her, just as always! "Oh Richard, I was going to say that –"
"And I still don't want to hear it." He stood brusquely and in a few quick strides was at the doorway, leaving Caroline staring up at him in utter confusion. As he leaned against the door-frame, his top hat in hand, he gave a sad sort of smile. "My dear, it's very evident to me what you wanted to say. Something has finally revealed the inadequacy of Mr. Darcy and thereby thrust me into a much more positive light. Caroline, I have no wish to be the object of your obsessions." He turned around to leave.
Caroline's mind was whirling in confusion. She loved him – why didn't he care? "But Richard," she cried as she stood up and followed him into the hallway. "Jane said that you loved me!"
He glanced back at her. "Did she? Well, I suppose that's the truth as far as she knows."
"But darling – I love you!"
She had hoped that the words would have some profound effect on him, that he would turn around and gather her back into his arms, kiss her senseless as he had on the night of his proposal. But no such change occurred. He simply sighed and turned around to fix her with a sad, almost pitying gaze, causing her to take a step back in surprise. She had never seen her husband look so defeated. It was almost - well, it was almost like how Mr. Darcy had looked, and it frightened her out of her wits.
"Did it ever occur to you, my dear misguided child, that perhaps I no longer love you?"
The words hit Caroline hard and fast, and it seemed as though the world were crashing in on her. Elizabeth dying, Darcy's incompetence – all were minor inconveniences as compared to the pain and confusion she suddenly felt. For a moment she floundered, searching in vain for reason in the midst of the upheaval. "But – but love doesn't die!"
He just gave a slight, sad, sardonic laugh, the pity in his gaze increasing. "Yours for Mr. Darcy did." Again he turned to leave but she ran after him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his frockcoat.
"But I never really loved Mr. Darcy – we're not suited at all. But you and I – oh Richard you once said that we were like two sides of the same coin. Jane can't be wrong."
With a heavy sigh and a gentle indifference that broke her heart he disentangled himself from her grasp. "My dear, Jane was right as far as she knew. I did love you once – more than any man has ever loved. For years I tried to get you out of my mind, but every time the ship docked I found myself drawn to wherever you abided. If you hadn't accepted my proposal when you did I think I'd have gone mad." He gave a short, ironic laugh. "And yet, here I am, mad all the same."
Caroline's world was falling apart, and she absolutely could not accept it. "But – but why didn't you tell me you loved me?" she accused.
"Because, my dear, you're so cruel to those that love you. Can you honestly say that, secure of my affections, you would drop your devotion to Darcy and become a loving wife? No, Caroline, you would have gloried in your supposed triumph and destroyed my love through your own spite."
She wanted to say something, to defend herself against the accusations, but even as her heart protested against the words she recognized in them the unmistakable ring of hard to learn truth. Richard had always been frank with her – save in the matter of his love – and she knew he was being frank with her now.
"I thought I could show you the futility of your love for Darcy. I thought I could teach you to love me instead. But Caroline you're the most stubborn woman I have ever known, and truthfully I wouldn't have loved you had you been any different. I suppose what I'm saying is that we were doomed from the beginning, and that I was a fool for staying around this long."
"But –" Caroline's chest constricted painfully, as though her heart itself was just plain giving up. Maybe it was – she wouldn't blame it. Tears poured down her cheeks and she knew they would be never ending. The only person who could ever stop her tears was standing before her, the unashamed cause of her suffering. "But Richard, I love you now! Isn't that enough? Can't we start anew? Oh Richard we could be so happy together!"
"Could we?" he asked, his tone conversational but the expression in his eyes heavy. "Could we really, Caroline? Or would we just fall back into our habits of hate and despair? But I feel no need to consider the possibilities – I've never seen the appeal of second chances. I'm forty-two years old, my pet. I'm far past the age of making mistakes and blaming them on youthful innocence."
Mistakes? How could he possibly think that their marriage was a mistake? Surely he couldn't mean such things, not now that she knew she loved him! She stared up at him, unable to speak when her entire world, everything she had once considered constant, was falling to pieces.
With yet another heavy sigh he strode across the foyer to where his suitcases waited by the door, picking them up with ease and smoothly placing his hat atop his head. As his strong hand reached out for the doorknob Caroline was suddenly spurred into action. She rushed forwards, clutching desperately to his arm. "But where are you going?" she cried. He only shrugged.
"Perhaps I'll take a new commission in the navy – the sea always helped me make sense of things. Or maybe I'll go to Kent to reconcile with Henry, convince him that his roguish younger brother has finally seen the charms of respectability."
Caroline scoffed. "That will be hard to convince him of. There's nothing respectable about leaving your wife alone and friendless."
Richard just smirked. "Don't flatter yourself, my dear. He doesn't know a thing about you. As far as he knows I'm as free as I ever was, and this is one of the few times I prefer his view to my own."
"Oh you hateful man! Why I –"
"And besides, Caroline. You're not alone and friendless. You finally have Mr. Darcy – isn't that what you always wanted?" His words were marked by his usual mocking, sardonic tone but the look on his face was one of true sadness and defeat. Caroline stared up at him, knowing that her eyes were red and her cheeks tear-stained but not caring at all. How could she care about something so stupid as her appearance when the only man she had ever truly loved, had ever truly understood her, was leaving?
"Oh, but I don't love Mr. Darcy and you know it! I love you Richard!" Her voice cracked and she added in a softer, more hesitant tone, "I love you."
Richard only shrugged. "That's your misfortune."
Again he turned to leave, managing to open the door before she could realize and stop him. "Richard if you go where shall I go? What shall I do?"
He smiled sadly. "Caroline, I wish I could say that I cared. I wish I could say that I still loved you, and that we can still have a happy ending. But you and I, we're not romantic dreamers like Darcy and Elizabeth. No, we're practical people, and practical people don't hold on to broken dreams. I don't love you Caroline. If I feel anything for you it's sadness and pity, though I know you like to think yourself above the pity of others."
Caroline stared at him, shocked and horrified. She refused to be the object of anyone's pity, let alone her own husband's! How could he say that he didn't love her? After everything they'd been through there must be something left beyond sadness. She bit her lip, willing herself not to cry.
He sighed. "What I'm saying is, my dear, I don't give a damn."
And with that dire, earth-shattering, deadly pronouncement he turned and walked out the door.
Caroline watched till the late evening dusk had swallowed him up, taking away the only person she had ever loved. With trembling hands she smoothed her dress and hair as she stumbled back towards their wide, red steps, crumpling down into a broken heap. The door remained wide open, a cool breeze blowing into the hauntingly empty house, but she couldn't bring herself to close it. If she did it would be as though she were giving up, closing him out forever.
With the door open at least she could fool herself that he might come back.
She swiped at her red, swollen eyes, finding that the tears had stopped. Tears were for trivial pain – the pain of losing Elizabeth, of being embarrassed by Darcy. This pain was something beyond crying, beyond idle grieving. To lose another hurts; to lose a part of yourself kills.
But she couldn't allow herself to succumb to death, however welcoming it might seem. While there was any chance, any slim hope – she was Caroline Baker. She didn't give up.
As though in a trance she stood up and walked slowly to the door, as a moth is drawn to the light. She would win him back. She would, because never in her life had she been denied what she wanted – what she needed, and she had never needed anything as desperately as she needed Richard.
"Damn him," she breathed, her heart pounding and her frame shaking. "Damn him for everything he's ever done!" Slowly she raised her fist in the air, a triumphant, determined gesture. "I swear I'll get him back. And not because he's worth it, the damn cowardly cad, but because –" Her voice faltered, but she closed her eyes and continued. "Because I love him and, goddammit, I'm not letting that go."
Well, there it is. I hope you liked it! This is definitely a one-shot (famous last words, am I right?), as I don't know where this goes any more than Mitchell did. I suppose you can just pick your favorite post-GWTW fic and change the names! :) Actually, though, I think that Caroline and Richard have a very good chance at reconciliation - much better than Rhett and Scarlett. They've had their share of troubles but there was no war, no Bonnie, no Charles and Frank beforehand. I suppose what I'm saying is that they will come back to each other, only I'm not sure how it happens.
I might one day go back and do some little one-shots from earlier in their relationship (a certain library scene comes to mind as particularly fun to write) but then I don't really know ... I hope y'all enjoyed this - and please review!