Sorry for the long absence, I had a beyond awful year but I am so excited to be back! The goal with this is more consistency with uploads (of course, I've been so bad) and I can definitely say it won't be nearly so long anymore! Thank you so much to those of you who have enjoyed the story thus far - the encouraging comments really did make me want to come back and not abandon this. I want to figure out how it's going to end too, haha! :) Hopefully you enjoy this chapter!
Caroline rewarded herself with a smug smile of satisfaction as she was helped down from her family's carriage in front of the Darcy townhouse. After overhearing Charles mention to Mr. Darcy at the ball that he wished to stop by and visit within the next few days, Caroline did everything in her power to ensure that she accompanied her brother on such a trip. While it took some convincing, she finally won her dear brother over with a few tears and a wish to renew the companionship they had all known in the countryside at Netherfield. She felt that this was not without suspicion on Charles' part, but since he would be directly present the whole time, she assumed that he finally acquiesced for the sole reason of maintaining their daily household civility.
As the pair was announced to the drawing room, she kept her features arranged into an expression of mild geniality. She inclined her head in the direction of the Colonel first, and then swept her eyes dramatically over towards Darcy, making sure to meet and hold his gaze - as disinterested as it always was - before dropping her focus demurely to the floor as she curtsied. With the knowledge that he was likely nursing a bruised ego (but, she was nearly certain, not too broken of a heart over a country Bennett), she chose to ease much more slowly into her pursuit of the man upon this visit. Taking Charles' warning into hand, she anticipated that perhaps Mr. Darcy may be somewhat baffled by her apparent lack of interest on this day and perhaps that could work to her advantage in the future.
Minutes began to pass as conversation dwelled in decidedly dull topics, and Caroline found her posture remaining composed while her thoughts began to wander. She mindlessly agreed and disagreed to statements as seemed fit, all the while analyzing Mr. Darcy's motions. While still rather stoic, he did seem to be at least a tad more animated among these closest companions of his, particularly his cousin. This was a barrier that she knew she needed to penetrate to ultimately win him, or at least capitalize upon it when she was able.
As she mused, she caught on that the Colonel was beginning to tell a rather amusing story about his time serving with his regiment. She found herself drawn out of her thoughts and pulled into the story, entranced by his expressions. It could not be denied that the man had a warm, captivating presence that simply drew one in - so unlike his cousin.
Just as he concluded his story with a flourish, Caroline found herself in a fit of giggles until an audible unfamiliar bark of laughter startled her. She felt her mouth gape open slightly before she caught herself. A laugh. An actual full chuckle had just been released from Fitzwilliam Darcy's mouth. For all of his and Charles' years of friendship, she had not once been party to his amusement. A smile was even seldom seen. She wondered if her determined lack of pursuit might have contributed to his slightly more relaxed demeanor this afternoon.
For the remainder of the afternoon, Caroline prompted the Colonel into more storytelling, joking, and good humour until the Bingleys departed for their evening meal. Richard took it all in good stride, and a relaxed atmosphere settled over the group that was rarely present in Caroline's company. As the door closed behind the siblings, Darcy arched his eyebrows over at Richard. "I daresay that is the least insufferable I have ever seen Caroline Bingley act...I should have known some good would come from having such a jovial scamp as my cousin."
Meanwhile, Caroline Bingley was helped up in the carriage by her brother and settled comfortably into her seat. She was proud of herself for her own restraint that afternoon, and felt more content than she had in recent memory. While she was sure that her own actions had made a true difference, it also did not escape her notice that having Richard Fitzwilliam as an intermediary was greatly to her benefit. Yes…, she thought, Mr. Darcy's cousin and his affability could be just what I need to finally succeed in my pursuit of Pemberley.
A few days later, Charles and Caroline departed their home together again, this time to attend a popular horticultural event in the nearby gardens. Befitting her standard practice, Caroline quickly located Darcy's presence once they arrived and, seeing an opportunity as Charles was caught up in quick conversation, she headed straight towards the man. He was tucked away behind a hedgerow, but his height easily gave him away. Upon approach, she noted that his always cross and sullen demeanor seemed tinged with something a little bit more forlorn than usual. But surely not lovelorn…?
"Good day, Mr. Darcy," she said simply, repeating in her head to remain as aloof as the other day as she offered up a simple soft smile. "Charles will be pleased to see you are in attendance today."
"Miss Bingley," he replied with a nod. "I hope today finds you well."
"Indeed. I find that being in a garden makes me long for the country, those idyllic days spent wandering through Netherfield. And of course, my very favorite gardens, those of Pemberley."
Instantly, she saw him shutter his eyes. She should have known flattery by way of his property would not benefit her with this man, not after her rigorous pursuit over their lengthy acquaintance. It was a crucial mistake and she hurried to recover from it. "I simply mean that those times wandering the rows of flowers with your sweet sister were always so lovely, and only enhanced by the pleasant setting."
"Yes," Darcy replied coolly, his eyes touching on hers for a mere moment and then gazing straight past clearly in search of some sort of escape. Caroline felt the all-too-familiar desperate feeling of trying to hang onto him rising through her chest, and she racked her brain for some other sort of topic to try and elicit a response from this man. What had they discussed at his home just days ago? Why was she not able to recall a single thing?
Before she could speak, a male acquaintance of Mr. Darcy approached and Darcy looked relieved as the two excused themselves. Caroline, having found Darcy towards one corner of the gardens where he had surely been avoiding social contact as much as possible, felt herself uncharacteristically crumbling inward behind the privacy of the flowers and the hedges. Why was she constantly failing at gaining this man's interest? Why would words just stick in her throat whenever she attempted to hold any sort of conversation with the gentleman? She inwardly began beating herself up for constantly failing in this regard as the failures over the years swelled larger in her mind. What would her mother think if she could see this is was all her daughter could manage to do after all those years of grooming?
Finding herself suddenly overwhelmed, unfamiliar tears began to prick at her eyes as the pressure of what she was attempting to do this summer sank in. It had to be this summer...she could not exit another season without making a match. She could not let Darcy leave London to be wooed by some other country miss, or worse, return to Miss Bennett to plead for another chance. Just as the first hot tear began to roll down her cheek, a deep voice spooked her from behind.
"Ah, my favorite redhead in London. You do recognize that, despite the color of the gardens, it is still impossible for you to blend in?"
She had no choice but to turn around, and as she did so, she saw the Colonel comically bowing and offering her a vivid rose he surely should not have plucked from the manicured gardens. Meeting his eyes, she attempted to deliver a retort but found the words unable to pass the lump in her throat. Straightening up, Richard stepped closer to her and, she recognized, reoriented his muscular frame to block her from the view of the rest of the party and any curious eyes that might sight her. "What has happened for me to find you so upset? Are you in distress?"
Taken aback by his quick assessment of her mood, she lightly patted her face to clear any tears and set her jaw as she looked up at him. "I am quite well, thank you."
He assessed her seriously, for once no trace of amusement lighting his features. "Now, you cannot expect me to possibly believe that, Miss Bingley. How insufferable has my dear cousin been now? I saw him walking away...usually he doesn't affect you so."
Feeling a bit exposed by the way his eyes met hers, she nearly relented but then recalled her revelation that this gentleman standing right before her could be a valuable ally in her mission. Dropping her eyes to the ground, she oriented her thoughts. Richard, while incredibly close with his cousin, may still be willing to assist her if nothing else but for the mere fact that he seemed to have a spot of affection for her she rarely found in a companion.
"I have a proposition," she stated matter-of-factly, raising her gaze up and meeting his eyes directly right back.
One of his eyebrows quirked up along with a side of his mouth as he assessed her serious countenance. "And just what kind of proposition might that be, my lady? Are you finding yourself feeling lonely in London? Has the offer of this rose persuaded you to look elsewhere for love?" He asked with a wiggle of his brow.
Her eyes narrowed at Richard and she set her mouth sternly. "I know that you know precisely what I am thinking about and striving for this season and I will not tolerate you humouring yourself over something so deeply important to me!"
"While I have recently prided myself in understanding your chaotic brain more than most others, despite our short time of truly being acquainted, I cannot say that I have even an inkling about why you are so upset this afternoon," he replied, still looking bemused. He smiled at her in a way that on most men would seem arrogant, but for him, simply spoke to an inward confidence that he carried.
"I do not think it is any secret to you that I have your cousin and his marriageability set in my sights. And I have come to the conclusion that time is running short on my opportunity to win his favor, and that you, my darling friend, are just what I require to surmount his hesitation for me to become his wife."
Now, the Colonel had proven himself to be an easygoing fellow who was rarely disturbed by anything, dramatic or otherwise. But at these words from her, she watched his face freeze up, his smile drop, and his eyes narrow before he could set his features into a more neutral expression.
"Do you truly expect me to actively work against my cousin and his currently obvious wishes to assist with you achieving your far-fetched dream? Miss Bingley, you know I have been highly entertained thus far by your pursuit of him, but I am highly less so about actually being involved." He paused in agitation. "Why do you insist on putting such stock in something that seems so futile?"
"But I do not believe that it is so!" she pleaded. "Surely you noticed the other afternoon how at ease we were in each other's presence, and I believe that you have been the missing piece all along!" At this, she noticed his face tighten up again. "You relax him and disarm him and that is all I have been needing. I beg you, please. I am not asking anything of you other than to constantly be in our presence when we interact and perhaps provide me with some advice on good conversational topics. Think of it as sort of chaperone situation, however unconventional it may be." She followed this speech up with a beaming grin and gentle squeeze of his hand. "Please, Richard, that is all I am asking. Simply for you to provide me with an opportunity that I would not otherwise have. Not without you."
Richard leaned back and stared at her for a beat before his face relaxed into his typical pleasant expression. "You must know by now that I hold you in high regard, so I pray you have faith when I say there are many gentlemen in London who you could direct your regard towards that would gladly welcome it. However, I see that you will not be swayed. As long as you swear that my amusement from your desperation is both allowed and also incapable of ruining the friendship between you and I that I hold so close in my heart, my lady, I sincerely promise to be present in as many conversations as humanly possible between you and one Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and to impart as much knowledge about the man as I feel is appropriate."
"Oh, it is almost certainly agreed upon! This is splendid. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She made a move to embrace him before clearly thinking otherwise, and the pair both froze as she stopped midway towards the embrace. Uncharacteristically, Richard felt his face heat up and was at a loss for words for a moment until he gently grasped one of her hands.
"Miss Bingley, I find myself simply desiring your happiness. Seeing that one single tear was too much," he murmured. He found he was nearly holding his breath as she gazed up at him, and knew he had to break the spell before he overstepped his bounds. "And simply remember, Lord Framingham will likely be available should we not succeed in this endeavour."
That broke her out of their spell and Richard watched in awe as the enigmatic, exasperating, fiery woman before him erupted into laughter and gently swatted him as she turned to lead the way back to the main garden gathering. Richard had always been content being situated where he was within his family lineage, but in that moment, for the first time, he found himself wishing that it was he who was the heir to Pemberley instead.
