It did not take Caroline long before the natural resolve of her character put an end to such a shameful display of female vulnerability. She detested woman who were prone to tearful displays. Tears had no place unless expressed in a decidedly artful fashion, best yet in front of a targeted audience. But to simply cry on one's own, wallowing in self-pity, was not a scenario Caroline would ever willingly succumb to.

She stood tall, smoothing the fabric of her dark green skirts. She glanced at the looking glass upon the wall. She stepped closer, until her nose was practically pressed against the cool glass. Her face was blotchy and her eyes slightly red rimmed. The veins at her temples appeared most unattractively raised, creeping and blue. Her neck was no better, with red fiery marks radiating across her pale skin.

"It is a good thing you have been left on your own," she scolded herself. "For never before have you looked so entirely pathetic." She practically snarled at her reflection, hating every flaw, every display of weakness so clearly visible in her reflection. If her mother could but she her now, how ashamed she would have been.

Their mother never cried; never expressed emotion or felt any remorse from her words. Her mother would never apologise for her behaviour. She had been such a strong woman, until that last year of her life.

She stared hard at her reflection. But was this not what she should do now? Apologise? Both to Darcy and his sister? The very thought made her skin crawl at so repugnant an act. Yet, the panic in her chest of perhaps going just a little too far this time, suggested it was the right thing to do.

She thought back to the subtle rebuke from young Georgiana. A fine time for that girl to show some gusto! How dare she rally her spirits in that moment only to side with her stupid sister! Oh no, Caroline resolved. She would not apologise to Miss Darcy. Perhaps she had underestimated the girl.

Though, no sooner had she allowed her temper to again flare, and dismissed the idea of appealing to the goodness in Georgiana; she was again hesitant.

"You really ought to make amends," she told her reflection sombrely. "You stupid girl, whatever possessed you to act such a fool! In front of Darcy no less. What must he think of you! For he will not easily forgive you for such a display. What did you think he would say? Worst yet, he does not even think of you at all. He desires a woman so beneath his own notice to whom you cannot even compare." She looked at her reflection once more with distaste. "Pathetic creature, I am ashamed to look at you!"

The venom in her own words, to her surprise, brought the danger of tears once more. She watched as a fat droplet rolled down her cheek. She could not tell if it stemmed from her own scolding; her new found embarrassment, or from the look upon Darcy's face as he had walked away from her.

Suddenly she heard the booming voice of her brother-in-law resonate from somewhere close by, followed by the hum of other males conversing. In a panic, quite out of character, she scurried about the room, in an attempt to find a place to hide. She knew it was foolish, but she did not wish to be seen by anyone in her current state. If the gentleman had returned collectively from their activities, it was likely they would take refreshments in this very room. Oh Lord, what if Darcy was in attendance?

She could hear the voices growing louder as they approached. Think quickly, she thought; you cannot elude them by seeking the sanctuary of your room, for you must pass them directly. Think, think... The library!

Crossing the room she took the door on the opposite side, which unfortunately still opened onto the same corridor. If she made haste, she could turn the corner quickly and take refuge in the safety of the vast library. No one would be there at this time of day. Caroline herself had only ever entered the room twice; both visits whilst Darcy was present, in an attempt to prove to him that she too was a great reader.

Hurriedly she opened the door and darted around the corner, striding towards the library. Within seconds she had flung the door wide open, and slammed it hard behind her. She leaned back against the coolness of the wood as she heart pounded in her chest. She tried to calm herself. Closing her eyes, still leaning upon the door, she tried to recite Psalm 120, from the "Songs of Ascent". A random choice no doubt, but one of the only few verses that she seemed able to recall when so desirous.

I call on the Lord in my distress,

And he answers me.

Save me, Lord,

From lying lips

And from deceitful tongues.

She laughed mockingly at the very verse so easy to recall. How apt. Save me from thy lying lips would have been more appropriate, she thought ruefully. She let out a loud sign of frustration and banged the back of her head against the wooden door.

Not only was she still furious for the way Darcy had defended Miss Bennet, but she was furious over her lack of control of her own temper.

"Blast it," she called out to the silent library. "Blast it all to bloody buggery! Bloody, bloody hell and damnation!"

She picked up a small leather-bound book from a table by her left, the closest object that did not appear entirely perishable, and threw it hard across the room. The loud thud it made when it hit the bookshelf opposite, before landing abruptly on the floor with its spine exposed and pages shivering, gave her a momentous feeling of satisfaction.

"Do try and not damage the books so. I really do believe, if you knew the true value of such an item, you would not be so quick to abuse them for your own amusement. I should confiscate your pin money for the remainder of the year if you behaved so within my library."

Caroline's jaw dropped as the dark-haired gentleman turned his head around the side of a wing backed chair to look upon her with mocking censure. His wide grin did nothing to calm her temper.

"Mr Montague," she addressed him without the slightest hint of warmth. She drew herself to her full height and straightened her shoulders. How dare he sit there this whole time and not reveal his presence.

"How wonderful it is to see you again. My, how clever of you to hide inside the library, rather than engage with the gentleman directly. To be allowed the privilege to sulk around the home of another; to have all the appearance of a man at leisure, while simultaneously all the advantage of being paid to do so. Does my brother know of your arrival?"

She smiled at him, enjoying the quick disappearance of his original mirth. Knowing that her remarks had the exact effect she had intended, she carried on;

"You must excuse my surprise, for I thought myself to be quite on my own. I am afraid that book simply was not to my liking, and would kindly ask that you refrain from making comment upon a ladies' actions when she believes herself to be safe in the sanctuary that privacy allows."

It was his turn to be amused by the clear annoyance in her tone. How could a woman of such beauty be such a drain on one's spirit? A beauty perhaps, but she possessed all the charm of a viper. Lord why was the bloody woman not still in London. The season was not yet over. When agreeing to meet with Mr Bingley on his return to London, he had not been informed that their would be a bloody house party in residence.

He looked at her coolly, it was only then that he took in her full appearance. Had the girl been crying? Suddenly he felt rather sheepish. He turned back in his chair.

"I arrived just under the hour. I was informed your brother was currently to be found fishing, though Mr Darcy was playing host indoors amongst his other guests. Naturally I intended to join you all. Imagine my surprise upon being met with raised voices and a departing Mr Darcy. So determined was he, I doubt he even acknowledged my presence." He met her gaze and held it as he continued; "perhaps he, much like you, had simply found something not to his liking."

She walked forward to till she was before his chair, looking down at him with narrow eyes. How dare he! She wanted to knock him down to size, but for once was at a loss for words. How much had he heard? She felt her cheeks grow warm, not from anger, but a fierce flush of embarrassment. Oh god, how much had he heard?

"A gentleman would have made his presence known," she replied haughtily, her chin held high, maintaining as much authority in her stance as she could muster.

"In truth, I had every intention of doing so; not to mention my overwhelming desire to take refreshment after my rather onerous ride from Matlock. However, upon hearing your own good self, in what only can be described as a rather, shall we say animated discourse? I thought it best to be shown into the library to wait on your brother, and a more composed Mr Darcy for that matter. How was I to know this was your place of sanctuary by choice? Though in fairness, I think we can both agree the room is considerably large enough to facilitate both our presence. How delightful it must be having access to such a collection, I should of known a woman with such an extensive vocabulary to be an avid reader."

She knew full well her face displayed her emotions entirely. There was no hope to hide the embarrassment and annoyance that radiated through her person. Oh Lord! He had heard everything, and not only that he had heard her use of profanity in her frustration. How dare he attempt to tease her! He was no gentleman, of that she had always been certain; though his success in his profession clearly gave way for him to think of himself as such. Clearly Mr Montague had ideas well above his station. Hateful man! He may be of use, and as such, respected by the upper sets of society ; but he was not and would never be their equal. He was but a man of the law, a man in service; as far as she was concerned his opinion did not matter.

She was about to cast him down, when the image of her brother and his worried expression of recent weeks made her hold her tongue. Charles and Darcy clearly thought he was the right man to help mitigate their little problem. Perhaps it would be unwise to offend him. She had already done quite enough damage this morning; it was clear she could not trust her own better judgement. How abhorrent, to be reliant on such a smug, self inflated, upstart young man. How could a man, at the most a mere six and twenty, be considered one of the greatest legal minds whose authority was sought by all? Her brother seemed to think without Darcy's influence he would not even help them at all. Who was he to think himself better than the Bingley's.

Gathering her composure, she fixed a bright smile upon her face. "If you will excuse me, I believe I should go and find my sister for we had planned to take a walk together. It is such a fine day to be outdoors."

"By all means," he replied with but a hint of a smirk, "do not let my presence detain you from your original plans. I would hate to think I had detained you from the enjoyment of walking the spectacular grounds that are Pemberley. "

"Oh do not think for a moment I would allow your arrival to deter my pursuit of my own amusements."

"I doubt any man can claim that satisfaction," he replied in jest before picking up the paper which he had cast aside following her unexpected arrival.

She wanted to say something further, felt an overwhelmingly desire to have the last word, but could not think of a clever parting retort. Suddenly the door of the library opened and her brother entered the room, which put an end to their conversation.

"There you are Montague! I must apologise for I had thought you would not arrive till well after noon! How the devil are you? Jolly good of you to come, I said to Darcy only this morning..."

As her brother nervously rambled, Caroline quietly walked around him, practically unnoticed, and slipped from the room.