Disclaimer: Pride and Prejudice I own not.
Caroline simply failed to see what was so admirable about the Bennet sisters.
At first, she thought she only had to deal with the eldest, the hag with her heart-shaped face and soft tresses of hair and gentle, soft seductions clueless old Charles could not differentiate from true shows of affection.
Caroline refused to feel guilty about that entire affair - Jane Bennet had made it rather obvious to all of them in the vicinity (except maybe Charles, the poor sodden fool) that she did not feel as strongly about her brother as Charles evidently did.
She did not blame him entirely - certainly, the entire matter would not have unfolded as it had done if he had just been a tad more observant, but those Bennet sisters' sharp tongues could spin nothing other than lies, after all. Charles was not completely at the blame. He had fallen for the trap hook, line and sinker, but Jane Bennet was a skilled fisherman in these waters.
Her conviction had all the more been strengthened when Darcy voiced a similar opinion. She had pondered over the matter with silent triumph, glad that she and him were finally on the same page, yet -
What had changed?
A wedding invitation and two letter lays before her on her desk. Caroline's working space was neat and orderly, so the three of them, crumpled and torn, stood out in great contrast with the rest of her things.
She had read the wedding invitation furiously, wondering where she had gone wrong. Indeed, she had opposed her brother going to Longbourn, but Darcy had followed him - had he failed to prevent Charles from falling within Jane Bennet's fishing net? No, the letter that had accompanied the wedding invitation spoke of Darcy's blessings to the couple.
So Darcy approved of this pairing? Her brother - a member of an illustrious family, her family - he was to marry this... this cow without a single penny to her name? How could Charles see anything behind the shell of her accursed good looks?
And the second letter - Caroline did not even want to think about the second letter.
Curse Elizabeth Bennet! She had been the most unexpected of blows. Caroline had been so preoccupied dealing with the predicament the eldest Bennet sister had presented that she had completely disregarded the second sister.
Caroline had seen the expression on Darcy's face when he had spoken of her just the other day - he held some degree of sentiment for her, she knew, but she hadn't thought - had never imagined that the sentiment would run this deep. A passing fancy, she had thought of it, wondered how long it would take before Darcy would manage to chase the new desperate lady away.
Except Elizabeth Bennet was different. She wasn't a desperate lady, shoving her inheritance (or lack thereof, now that Caroline mediated upon it) and handsome looks in Darcy's face. In fact, Elizabeth had not shown any semblance of affection nor made any attempt at flirtation towards the man. Maybe her lack of flirtation was a type of flirtation, in her hometown.
Elizabeth certainly did not earn the scorn he would always shower upon the other ladies.
At first, Caroline had deemed her blunt honesty and crude sense of humour cause for a lack of concern. Surely Darcy could not find such a rude, untalented woman of value? And yet, later on, Caroline could not help but realise with growing horror that Darcy appeared to find Elizabeth's lack of manners charming.
In previous circumstances, when Caroline had been worried that Darcy's affections would transfer from - well, nobody - to a new lady, she had tried her hand at copying whatever Darcy might have found attractive in the other women. Imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, after all.
When the gossip started going around that Mary Prenneth would inherit a large sum of money from her uncle after his death, Darcy had briefly spoken of her newfound eligibility - three days later, Caroline began making suggestive comments about her own enviable dowry.
Two years before, Anna Barker had been all the men would talk about, which Caroline had not paid much attention to - that is, until Darcy had commented that she had a handsome face, at which point Caroline started paying more care to the makeup she applied and caked on whatever beauty products that were in fashion.
But Elizabeth Bennet's honest and fresh-faced charm was not a type of makeup she could just start caking on herself. To be frank, Caroline simply did not know how to imitate Elizabeth Bennet. She was just so - different.
She was her age, too. Lord, Caroline was twenty. By the society's standards, she was already becoming something of an old maid. Louisa had already been comfortably married at her age - she felt like she had wasted all her entire life chasing one man, and snubbing all the others who had actually came to her willingly.
It was evident, though, that this one man she had been determinedly trying to catch up with had been - had always been, when she hadn't been paying attention - entranced with another woman.
This must be what they dub 'heartbreak', Caroline thought, letting fresh tears fall on an already tear-ridden letter. Why? Had Caroline not been good enough for Darcy? She had spent all this time just trying, trying so hard to be what he wanted, to be what he needed, but she felt like she had never truly understood the man she had stood by all these years.
The letter crumpled within her fist.
The last paragraph had hurt the most.
Caroline, it has never been much of a mystery to me that you held a certain degree of (a splash of ink) affection towards me. I wish you no pain, but I have never been able to return your (a blotch of ink) feelings. I do hope you will be able to find your happiness, although it does not lie with me, and I wish with all my heart that you will be able to give Elizabeth and I your blessings, for she makes me happier than I have ever been. You know I care for you, Caroline. You have always been alike a sister to me.
They hurt, his words.
It felt like a dagger, long inserted within her abdomen upon the realisation that Darcy held feelings for Elizabeth, was being twisted painfully in her gut, jabbing at all the right places to make her groan, to make her clench her fists with the pure unadulterated pain of it all.
Like a sister like a sister like a sister, her mind whispered, and Caroline thought that maybe she had always been a masochist in secret, because she picked up a piece of parchment and penned a congratulatory letter on Elizabeth's newfound sentiments towards Darcy (her Darcy, her mind said, but maybe not, maybe she had always been his but he had never really been hers), because that was what Darcy had said he wanted and she had never been one to refuse him anyway.
She barely got past 'Congratulations' before breaking down, because anything else would be a lie, a gaping hole in her moral integrity, but she forged on afterwards, wiping away her tears and spinning lie after lie after lie because if Darcy wanted sugarcoated lies then god damn it he would get them, Caroline had nothing else left to offer either ways.
Her throat tasted bitter and her mind was flooded with so much grief and her guts felt like they had been split open and poured out from her body and she doubled over and wept again because after all, she had only been a small rowing boat trying to overcome a towering wave in the ocean that was Fitzwilliam Darcy.
I'm actually quite a big fan of the Bennet sisters, but I'm thinking Caroline probably does not have a very high opinion of her. So, new chapter is up! Let me know of any errors you find, I don't have a beta and the slips I make are frankly embarrassing.