Caroline pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders as she leaned back against the carriage seat. She detested waiting. It was such an odious activity. How others could bare such a tedious pastime she would never know.
She was beginning to understand why one should never willingly do something entirely selfless for the benefit of another. It was excruciatingly tiresome. She shifted in her seat. Much longer and she would simply call the night a complete failure.
She had spent the evening at a rather dull card party hosted by Mr and Mrs Danvers. She had graciously attended, knowing full well that the prospect of entertainment was bleak. However, due to Mr Montague's promised certainty that Lord Colville was to be one amongst the party, she was quite determined to attend. Not only had the evenings conversation been dry, the bets tame and the refreshments not to her taste; Colville had not even graced the Danvers' with his presence.
She had spent much of the evening conversing with Mr Montague; well, how else was she meant to pass the time? Although it irked her to admit it, there was something interesting in Mr Montague's turn of phrase; however, the gentleman barely paid her a single compliment. She had found herself more and more in his company of late. Her brother had sought his council over some legal matter, and following their introduction the gentleman seemed but everywhere. How she had never noticed him as someone of her acquaintance previously, when they appeared to frequent within the same social circles, she did not know.
Caroline did not know much of him; he did not exactly pique her interest. A mere man of the law was hardly someone who merited her attention. For a gentleman so young, for he could not be a day over five and twenty, he had a rather peculiar manner. Caroline could not be certain if he was humouring her when in conversation, or subtly chastising her behaviour. Occasionally she found him borderline uncivil. Why this very evening he had not once commented upon her rose silk taffeta gown. Upon reflection of his utter lack of attention to her person, she touched a hand to the back of her hair which was even more elaborately styled than normal. All was still intact, quite perfect. She was certain he had not noticed her hair either.
She leaned forward and looked through the darkness of the quarter light. The street was quiet. It was almost midnight. Where on earth could he be? Two full days she had been trying to find his Lordship. Two whole days she had wasted. She thought of Richard and his snub to her person. Well perhaps her endeavour to seek out Lord Colville was not entirely selfless. In truth she owed no loyalty to Colville, nor to Miss de Bourgh; but seeing Richard beat at his own game was a pleasure she could not quite pass up. He should have known better than to speak to her with such venom the morning falling her ball at Harts.
How dare he imply that she, she of all people, required his assistance in keeping her social standing amongst the ton elite. How dare he speak to her, of her family in such an ungentlemanly manner. The truth behind his words had left their intended sting and Caroline was most determined he would feel the full wrath of her injury. Yet the truth remained, her family wealth had indeed been attributed to the fabric trade.
She wrung her hands in her lap. She could not deny, her brothers' friendship with Darcy did help their social standing greatly. And although her sister's husband was a giant buffoon, at least he had some useful connections. What damage to her standing could Richard truly do?
He was a fool to spark her rage, for she knew far too much about him. Their odd friendship of sorts meant far too many shared secrets, shared plans. They were similar, him and her; each as determined in their pursuit of personal gain as the other. Both had been raised knowing full well an advantageous marriage was their only true salvation to secure the life style they truly desired. Matters of the heart were never entertained into unless the head agreed wholeheartedly. Although Caroline was wealthy, she desperately craved respect and acceptance. Such things were not forthcoming for the granddaughter of a fabric merchant.
She knew she could be, perhaps, slightly too tenacious in her conduct. She knew, just like Richard, she used her dealings with those of the opposite sex purely to her own advantage. She may have ruffled some feathers in her schemes, but Richard, well Richard had disturbed the entire hen house.
She wondered how the empty headed, sweet, young Miss Carmichael would feel if she knew the gentleman, whom she had not so secretly been playing the fool, had previously had quite the string of similar young ladies about town. A good few seasons worth of fine young ladies he had somehow not quite managed to secure. What number Miss Carmichael exactly made on that list, even Caroline could not fathom a guess.
His obsession with his cousin she could not quite understand. Anne de Bourgh was not the sort of woman he seemed to typically pursue. She seemed far too sensible. Caroline did not particularly like Anne, no one could be that nice without other motives surely? The way Darcy and Lord Colville treated her had only furthered Caroline's contempt of the lady. Why did she deserve so much praise when she received so little? Even her own sister seemed genuinely fond of Anne. How long had she wished for Darcy to treat her with such genuine esteem? How long had she waited for a kind word from the man who had stolen her heart as a mere girl of fourteen. Anne was not deserving of such attentions, be she his cousin or not. Yet despite all this, Caroline did not wish the lady any real harm.
Upon witnessing Lord Colville's hasty departure from Hart's, she had asked Richard what the devil was going on. Was their plan not such that she should keep Colville busy while Richard pursued Anne? She had done her part planting the seed of doubt in Miss de Bourgh's mind, now Richard was to help her keep Colville to herself. She had made a play for him all season. Regardless of her feelings towards Darcy, Colville was exactly the sort of husband Caroline intended to snare. She had felt almost certain that given more time in his company she could tempt Colville's interest. How wrong she had been! Foolish girl she scolded herself, but it was merely her pride which had been bruised.
Upon seeking out Richard he had told her, with great relish, of his conversation with Lord Colville. She had listened at first with annoyance upon learning of his declaration towards Miss de Bourgh; though this feeling was only fleeting once she had listened also to Richards lies in response.
From that moment Caroline had felt uneasy over the whole matter. It was not a sensation she was used to, nor did she welcome it. The feeling had only been fuelled further by an off the cuff remark made by Mr Montague. It had been this very remark, and her increasingly unsettled conscience, that had driven her to call upon Richard the very next morning. She had only meant to warn him that such a falsehood was beneath him; that she wished no longer to be part of any such scheme. She had tried to be good. Yet after such savage words he deserved everything she hoped was coming to him.
She was almost determined to call the evening a failure and ask the driver to take her home, when movement on the street caught her attention. A tall, broad-shouldered figure was heading up the street towards where her carriage sat waiting. As the man drew alongside her carriage he turned and headed up the stone steps to his home on Bedford Square.
Pushing the carriage window open she called out;
"What time do you call this? If one cannot attend an invitation when one has already accepted, then it is very bad show to be found not at home."
Edward spun around quickly. He gazed at the carriage with a look of surprise.
"Miss Bingley what the devil do you think you are doing sitting outside my residence at this time of night. I insist you leave this instant."
"Well I do not sit here for my own amusement. Clearly I have been waiting for you. There is a matter which I wish to discuss with you of the greatest importance."
"I insist you leave. It is the middle of the night. Where is your chaperone? You being outside my home is entirely improper, not to mention completely inappropriate for that matter. I insist you take your leave before anyone should see you."
"You do not seem so much concerned with propriety in your conduct with Miss de Bourgh. From what I gather the two of you are much alone in each others company."
Upon her remark his face hardened. "You will do well not to speak of Miss de Bourgh."
"A great pity. Well, that will hardly do as it is exactly Miss de Bourgh whom I wish to discuss with you. Now unless you want all of London to know our business I suggest you get into my carriage immediately. I have already wasted much of my evening in pursuit of you, to do so anymore would be unforgivable. Do not be so ungrateful when I come to you as a friend."
"A friend?" He looked at her as he stepped closer to the carriage. "Miss Bingley, I am afraid I am in no mood for conversation this evening. I have not seen Miss de Bourgh since the night of your ball."
"I know that quite well. But tell me, my Lord, do you know the reason for her sudden departure? I do believe you do not know the full truth of the matter"
"And you do?"
Caroline grinned at him through the darkness. Pushing the handle of the carriage she opened the door.
"If you will step in for only but a moment, I shall tell you everything I know."
Several minutes later Edward sat back against the carriage seat. He ran his hands through his hair as he contemplated exactly what he had just heard. He knew he did not believe Colonel Fitzwilliam and his revelation of his and Anne's betrothal. To ill use the fall of her mother, Anne's sudden departure; as a smoke screen for his lies was unforgivable. To further hear of his indiscretions about town, his search for an advantageous marriage; well, it made his blood quite boil.
"And how, may I ask, do you know all these details?" Edward asked dryly. "You must forgive me Miss Bingley, but you do not seem the type of woman to merely happen upon such information by chance. Perhaps I am cynical in my observations? Nor do you seem the type of lady to offer such details willingly without reason for doing so."
"Let us not dwell on my reasons or resources. Can we not just leave the matter at my offering you such information as that of a friend?"
"I wish I could believe such a scenario but I am afraid I am inclined to think the worst."
"Then by all means think the worst," she replied with exasperation. "I make no promises nor do I pretend that my conduct is without flaw, yet here I am simply telling you what I believe you are entitled to know."
She looked at him and sighed. "Regardless what you think of me, how low your opinion of my person, you must believe me; it was never my intention to do either you or Miss de Bourgh any harm. My conscious is my reason for seeking you out, you cannot think poorly of me for that."
"Miss Bingley, I have never once thought of you in such negative terms. Indeed, I shall not press the subject further but simply thank you for confirming my own doubts on the matter."
She nodded at him looking at the expression upon his face. Perhaps he did not have such a low opinion of her. Such a realisation made her smile, and for once it was genuine.
"Well, I shall take my leave for I have done what I set out to do. I can offer my conscious no other remedy. If you would be so kind as to please vacate my carriage I shall be on my way."
Edward stepped down from the carriage, his mind still racing. Firstly, his thoughts were with Anne, how her mother faired and if all was well; the next he was filled with the ever-growing desire to punch Colonel Fitzwilliam square on the jaw.
"One final observation if I may," Caroline spoke from her still open window. "The ride from London to Kent is a most convenient distance, would you not agree? Personally, I always prefer an early morning departure, though there are those I am sure who do not mind travelling under the cover of darkness."
"I shall keep such an astute observation in mind."
"Wonderful," she smiled. "I had every faith you will do just that. Oh, and I would be exceedingly grateful if you kept our little tête-à-tête just between us girls." Signalling to the driver, the carriage then pulled away.
A moment later the street was once again empty as Edward opened the door of number thirty-four, closing it quietly behind him.