Caroline affixed a smile to her face with such ferocious effort that she felt the aching in her cheeks long before she had managed to squeeze a polite "good morning" from between her lips.
"Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley," Mr Darcy bowed his head in greeting. "I did not realise you were in London yet?"
There was a vague note of challenge in his question, levied entirely at her, Caroline felt certain, though his eyes were on Charles. It was true, she had been a little economical with the truth in declining Mr Darcy's invitation to his wedding, suggesting that she and Charles had an elderly aunt they must call on en route to London and would unfortunately not reach town in time to attend the wedding.
"Not here yet?" Charles laughed. "Of course -"
"Of course, plans change," Caroline put in, with an apologetic smile. "We did not think it right to thus upset the arrangements you already had in place for your wedding." She slid her glance over to Elizabeth, whose attention was also fixed on Charles, with a barely concealed note of irritation that it made Caroline irritated in turn. What right did Eliza Bennet have to think herself better than either Charles or Caroline herself? If she was going to assume airs within twenty-four hours of being wed, well!
"And how do the new Mr and Mrs Darcy fare?" she asked, icily.
"Very well, thank you, Miss Bingley."
Did Caroline imagine it, or had Elizabeth put a haughty inflexion over the title Miss? Her eyes narrowed. Just because I do not choose to entrap myself a husband…
"Have you time to take some refreshments with us, Charles?" Mr Darcy asked. He covered Elizabeth's hand with his own. "It is rather too cold to stand still and make idle conversation, but perhaps we might retreat and take tea." He glanced around him, as if to seek his bearings. "There used to be a pleasant little place not too far…"
Charles supplied the name, and before Caroline could object, it was agreed upon as an ideal destination, and the four young folks found themselves seated at a table, shedding the layers required of the cold outside in favour of the comfortable interior, warmed by the fire blazing in the hearth.
"Miss Elizabeth," Charles began, before breaking off with a self-deprecating laugh. "Forgive me, Mrs Darcy!" He paused, sitting back in his seat and shaking his head in bemusement. "How strange it is to call you so, and yet how content you seem together. I congratulate you."
Caroline's eyes rolled skywards. Her brother's friendliness bordered on flattery and merely served to rub salt into the very fresh wounds that still plagued her: that it was Eliza Bennet and not she who must be referred to by the name Mrs Darcy. How smug she was, on her husband's arm. How rarely she even dared to look away from him. Likely she is reluctant to let him out of her sight, Caroline thought, spitefully. She must know how ill-suited they are, and is living in fear of the time when he realises it too. How he will grow to despise her for enchanting him so. This thought was of some comfort, however cold, and she felt the merest hint of a smile creep up her face.
"Is something amusing, Miss Bingley? Do, pray, let us all in on the joke." Darcy's voice was flat, and Caroline felt certain he had singled her out merely to make clear his disapproval of her, although what he could have to disapprove of her for, she did not know.
"I am merely happy to see you," she said, smoothly. "Both of you."
"Indeed." Elizabeth's reply was arch, and Caroline was forced to meet her gaze.
She knew that Elizabeth Bennet had rarely had any time for her: a state she preferred, for she had immediately dismissed Eliza as someone she would never choose to be friends with. They were polite, as society dictated, and affected friendship only when one perceived the need of the other. In Caroline's case, it was as much a matter of keeping her enemies close as it was of finding anything approaching friendship in any of the Bennet sisters. Jane's presence, she could actually tolerate a little easier, for she was sweet and good and made it easy to love her. Caroline's smile hardened. That did not, however, mean she wished for her brother to love Jane enough to marry her. No, indeed. Better their fledgeling relationship be ended as soon as it began.
"How is your - ah, your sister, Mrs - Elizabeth?" Charles asked, fumbling his way through the sentence as much because of his anxiety concerning its subject as because of his awkward attempt to recall Elizabeth Bennet's current form of address.
"You must be more specific, Mr Bingley," Elizabeth said, with a sweet smile. "I venture to think I might know to which sister you refer, but I would not presume to risk speaking so."
"Miss Bennet, that is, Miss Jane Bennet. I trust - I trust that she is well?"
Elizabeth's hands tightened on her tea-cup, a motion so minuscule that it must have been missed by the gentlemen present, but Caroline's eagle eyes spotted it. She, too, did not approve of the direction Charles seemed determined to take the conversation and opened her mouth to change the subject.
"Eliza, dear, I wonder -"
"Miss Bingley," Mr Darcy cut across her, conjuring some topic of conversation that might be addressed directly to her and permit their friends to continue speaking uninterrupted. "Tell me, what are your plans for your time in London? You know, I am sure, that my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mary are here, staying with Mr Fitzwilliam in town. I have also taken the liberty of inviting my cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh, to stay with us some time."
Caroline straightened. Ordinarily, Mr Darcy's attempt to engage her directly in conversation would be the highest compliment she could imagine. His mentioning Anne by name to her would be perceived an invitation for the two to become friends. Why, just two weeks earlier, she would be walking on air by this point, too elated to care even if Charles was moments away from declaring his love for Jane Bennet before the whole tea-room. Instead, her nerves were set on edge.
"I thought your aunt was - forgive me, but I was under the impression that she did not entirely approve of your marriage?" She smiled, warmly, to show that she, Caroline, was eminently in favour of the couple sitting before them. It was an act, but she had always thought herself a very fine actress.
Mr Darcy sucked in a breath of air through clenched teeth.
"It is true she is not delighted by the news. But, Miss Bingley, recall it was of my cousin that I spoke and not my aunt. Anne is very fond of Elizabeth, indeed I have never known her to be wrong in her judgments." He fixed Caroline with a look that she felt certain was intended to communicate far more than words. He was suggesting that she had been mistaken, and might repent at her leisure, learning to value those she had once dismissed.
Allow myself to be taken in, you mean? I do not think so! Caroline straightened, meeting his gaze with a haughty smile. My brother and you might both be fools, determined to believe the best of those who do not deserve your notice, but I am not so easily persuaded. Still, this new arrival might prove useful. Anne de Bourgh. Caroline rolled the name around in her mind. She was not yet married, Caroline knew. And what were the words Mr Darcy had used to describe her in the past? Sweet-natured? Kind? Musical? She began to knit the details together. Might providence not have just provided her with the very thing she had been seeking: a preferable alternative to Jane Bennet as a focus for her brother's hapless affections? As the only daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Anne might move Mr Bingley - and she, as his sister and close confidante of Anne herself, for Caroline determined immediately that she would win the girl's affections and insert herself between any budding friendship between Anne and Eliza quite competently - into the kinds of circles they deserved to move in. Why, Caroline might have lost out on Mr Darcy, but if she could secure a connection between her brother and Anne de Bourgh, that might bring a hundred men more prosperous, more successful and perhaps even titled, across her path.
You may keep your Mr Darcy, Eliza Bennet, Caroline thought, continuing to refer, in her own mind at least, to Elizabeth by her maiden name. I shall outstrip you both.