Happy New Year! It looks like we will have a couple of chapters from Louisa Hurst POV, which are mostly Caroline-centric. The holidays were very busy, so this chapter remained mostly finished for the longest time before I was able to complete it. Hopefully the next couple of chapters won't take so long.

Louisa Hurst's POV

48. Growing Up in Caroline's Shadow

Being older than Caroline, in right she should have deferred to me in judgment, given way to me in any dispute, waited her turn for things. But I am afraid she was very badly spoilt by my father. He gave into her every whim.

I had nice things, but Caroline insisted that she must have the equal to everything I had if not more and better. I could never receive a gift from anyone without Papa having to console her with one of her own, whether it was appropriate or not.

I am generally of an even temper and was well used to this pattern which had begun before my earliest memories. However, even I was not prepared for what occurred on the occasion of my come out at age eighteen. A week earlier, I had visited my grandmother for our monthly tea. My grandmother was a wizened woman of advanced years who wore wigs to conceal her thinning hair. She had married late to a widower with an adult son and born my aunt and then my mother while she was in her forties. As usual, my sister could never be bothered to accompany me to visit her. Caroline always said things like "I do not see why you still go visit Grandmother. She smells of cabbage, rambles on and on, is too poor to leave us anything good, and whatever she does have will surely go to our aunt."

Caroline was not wrong about Grandmama having a sort of odor about her (but it seemed to me to be more the musty smell of old books than of cabbage), talking on at length, not having the wealth of our father, and being unlikely to leave us any inheritance, but I did not mind such things for I liked Grandmama for herself and found her stories interesting. But best of all, my Grandmama seemed to like and care about me for myself. This was never more evident than on this occasion, for with trembling hands she pulled out her ruby pendant from beneath the neckline of her dress. She told me, "My dear Louisa, I wish I had two of these so I could gift one to you, but as it is, it must only be a loan. Still, would you do me the favor of wearing it for your debut? I think it might give you a bit of luck."

Naturally, I accepted. I had long known about Grandmama's ruby pendant which her husband, a parson, had gifted her upon their marriage. She had told me the story several times and it was romantic and sweet, for he had read to her the scriptures about a good woman being more precious than rubies before giving it to her. It was small and in a quaint setting, but I did not care for I well knew that she was lending me her only treasure.

In the moments it took for her to unclasp it and to fasten it around my neck, she warned me "Louisa, you must take your best care of this pendant, for it is to go to your aunt upon my death. I am trusting you to keep it safe."

I reassured her, and when I was in the carriage returning to my home, I unhooked it from around my neck and hid it in a handkerchief. Then when I was in my room, I concealed it most carefully for I did not want Caroline getting at it.

Therefore, Caroline knew nothing of the matter until she saw me dressed for my debut with the pendant hanging around my neck on its fine gold chain. I had come down ready quite early because I was so excited to finally leave my childhood behind and have new experiences that belonged to me alone. My sister screamed and pointed at me. "Why does she get to have a ruby pendant?" she demanded of Papa. She did not listen as I tried to explain it was only a loan. I do not know if she heard my explanation through her screaming tirade about how she, too, needed a pretty jewel. She carried on and on.

In the end, I was late for my debut because my father left to beg a friend to open up his jewelry shop and then bought her a new ruby pendant twice as large as my borrowed one. It was hardly appropriate for a girl who was not yet fourteen, and this after he had already promised her more dresses for her debut than I had received (he had previously denied making up a whole new wardrobe for her, too at the same time as me some weeks earlier, and oh the fit she had thrown, face purple with rage, this is one of the few times I can remember Papa confining her to her room until she could settle herself). You can be sure I felt quite sorry for myself when all this was occurring and while I tried my best to temper my upset, it quite ruined my evening, made what should have been a joyous occasion bitter for me.

The next day when I was returning the ruby pendant to my grandmother (I did not trust that Caroline would not get at it and ruin it out of spite), I was still quite upset. Grandmama gradually drew the story out of me. She pronounced, "If your father is determined to spoil her, there is little that you or your mother can do but talk to him. Mark my words, Caroline's selfish, money loving heart will not lead to her happiness in the end. But you, my dear, you are a good girl and precious to me. I wish nothing but blessings for you and have been praying that when the time is right that the Lord shall give you a good husband who treasures you as mine did me." Her kiss to my forehead after that felt like a benediction.

You may wonder if after that I talked to my father and got him to see reason. No, I did not.

I had tried over the years to talk to my father about how he was making my sister into a beast, but he always said things like, "Why should I not indulge her a little? She is my youngest. You were too young to recall it, but she was born early and for a time we did not know whether she should live. If I chose to indulge her a bit now and again, what is that to you? I have more than enough of a fortune to give her all she might want and then some, without taking anything away from you. Let me still indulge her while I can."

I gave up after that, accepted that I could not change Papa's mind I suppose, but Charles was quick to commiserate with me. He had been indulged too, really we all were, but as the son he had no direct competition in her.

If I had any expectation that Charles would do better after our father was murdered (when Charles was still some weeks from turning twenty-two, I was still eighteen and Caroline was fourteen) and he held the purse strings, well I was soon disabused of such a notion. Mother might have stepped into the breech and prevented it, but she was too wracked with grief to do anything and I feared (correctly, unfortunately), that she was unlikely to long survive our father.

Caroline was unwilling to have her gowns dyed black. No, she had to have a whole new wardrobe for mourning (first for Papa and then for Mamma) and Charles agreed, even though she was still growing (especially in the bosom) and it was unlikely her old gowns would still fit after our mourning was at an end. Charles indulged her every desire the same as Papa had, let her come out at seventeen even though I had not married yet.

Then, at least in Caroline's mind it became some kind of competition. If I had a new dress for a ball, she had to have one, too, and it needed to be more elaborate than mine, more lace, more feathers, whatever would make it stand out as superior in her mind.

Caroline used to tell me, "You had better marry soon if you don't want to be an old maid," but I really believe it was more about her having the notion that her star would shine brighter without me, than any true concern for my well-being. I was not too worried, knowing how late Grandmama had married.

Caroline did not do me any favors when it came to finding a husband, for if a man showed any interest in me, she would try to capture his eye instead. I knew Mr. Hurst was the man for me when after finishing our set he chose not to ask my sister to dance when she put herself forward.

Caroline was jealous during our courtship, for he was paying attention to me but only coldly polite to her. When she learned we were engaged, she just sniffed and said "I suppose Mr. Hurst will do for you, but I shall find someone much better, richer and likely titled."

Caroline had high ambitions, but perhaps that was not surprising given how Papa and then Charles treated her. When everything can be yours if only you ask, why not think the world only exists to satisfy your every whim? I had never aspired to much more than to marry a gentleman who could support me and would like me for myself, and then to become a mother. I was not sure I wanted the kind of love my mother had for my father, the kind of love whose absence killed, or the kind of love Grandmama had for her husband where she suffered going through the rest of her life without him.

With Mr. Hurst, I could see how these dreams might come to fruition and that was enough to for me to decide I could be happy with him. I am pretty, I suppose, but have never shined as bright as Caroline with my mousey brown hair and freckles, with a decided gap between my front teeth. No one else had ever asked before, so I determined that he would do.

As for Caroline, I knew her dream was to marry a man with a title but barring that a gentleman who was extraordinarily rich would be sufficient. For Caroline found happiness in having others admire her and having expensive things for herself.

Knowing this as well as I did, I worried what would become of her if her expectations were dashed after an improvident marriage and shared this concern with Charles. He is a good brother as he told me something I had not known before, "I shall investigate her suitors the same as I did yours. Did you never wonder why Mr. Coffey who paid you such marked attention at the Smiths' ball never came to call? I learned his pockets were at low tide and warned him off. I shall do no less for her." Then he explained that he had already denied permission to three men who wished to court her but had not the means to maintain her in the manner to which she was accustomed, explaining to me, "Caroline's dowry seems to be her chief attraction, judging by the spendthrifts who have darkened my door."

After that, he told me about her potential suitors as they were investigated and disqualified one by one. Fewer pursued her these days, having learned that Charles intended that at least half of her fortune be settled on her (as it had been for me).

By the time she was twenty, and Charles's friendship with Mr. Darcy was firmly established, Caroline had decided Mr. Darcy would do as a husband. But I of course knew from his barely disguised annoyance when she attempted to engage his interest that he had no desire to ever marry her. However, I knew better than to even hint to her that she would not succeed in such efforts.

While the Bennet sisters were staying at Netherfield, it took no great power of discernment to conclude that Miss Elizabeth had caught Mr. Darcy's eye. Caroline knew this also and was fretting about it, like a dog worrying at a bone. But when he removed with us after Charles did, I thought nothing would come of his interest.

In the year that followed, we mostly remained in London, except for visiting Mr. Hurst's parents' estate over Christmas, staying until February (while Charles and Caroline remained in London, staying with one of his married friends). It was not long after Mr. Hurst and I removed to London in the spring that I was wishing for the clean air of the country again. The smell of cows is nothing to the odor of belching factories, air thick with black smoke, the odors of the unbathed masses, the rotting garbage, the offal in the streets.

It took me some weeks to realize the cause of my stronger sensitivities, that after three long years of my husband's attentions that I might finally be with child. Much could be credited to his more diligent attention while at his parents' estate. Perhaps it was because of the Hursts' strict religious strictures. For they prohibited all spirits, parlor games, dancing, and singing of anything but religious hymns. For an hour after dinner, we took turns reading the Bible and then we might have some time for leisure activities. Reading of books was acceptable, but never novels. I could not even jangle my bracelets for I could not wear my jewelry in front of them. Such a manner of living left us little to do in the evenings for there were only so many hymns I could sing and play, and neither of us were great readers. Most nights then, we retired early, and Mr. Hurst was in my bed every night. He took his time with me (what else had he to do?), and I enjoyed it more than I had before.

I was happy to finally be breeding but did not like feeling out of sorts. I suppose I should have felt grateful that my stomach did not seem disordered, but I was prone to bouts of dizziness and horrible headaches. Caroline, of course as usual was merciless in forcing me to do my duty to her, namely making calls with her. I thought, perhaps, I could gain some sympathy if I informed her of my delicate condition (surely, she would be happy for me), but I preferred keeping the matter secret between Mr. Hurst and me. While I hoped for her approbation, for sincere sisterly congratulations, I feared she might be endlessly complaining about the poor timing of it, that I would have to remove from London to the Hursts' estate for my lying in and not be available to escort her on calls and chaperone her at balls during the season.

I was not so distressed as Caroline that Charles wanted to marry Miss Bennet. I had heard from Caroline about the youngest sister's downfall, for Caroline had made a habit of going through everyone's personal correspondence. She was eager to tell me while we were at Pemberley, "That Lucas fellow says the youngest Bennet sister ran off and ruined herself." I kept quiet about my own reaction, which was to pity Miss Lydia (so young and foolish, throwing her life away at age sixteen) and the rest of the Bennets, for Caroline used to laugh at what she called my "Stupid tender feelings for those who scarcely deserve it."

Then, oh her reaction when she read the next letter! I did not like her vicious glee, how she waxed poetic in imagining Miss Lydia engaged as a washer woman while bursting with child and what a lark it would be "to send Mr. Hurst's clothes to her when he next suffers from upset at both ends." (She was referring to an incident when all of us had become violently ill. I had made the mistake of sharing that my unfortunate husband, while retching into a chamber pot, had suffered a simultaneous expulsion of matter from the other end.)

Having a sister such as Caroline and a brother such as Charles has long made me know that not every sibling is cut from the same cloth. Whilst society tends to heap shame upon the entire family for the indiscretion of one of its members, and I can see how some blame may attach to the parents (especially when the one acting wrongly is very young), why should one sister's folly taint the whole family? Caroline has done many things that I would not, and only being her elder by only a few years, why should I shoulder any of the blame? Indeed, I should not.

Whilst Charles is not so careful of his correspondence, I had long ago learned to hide anything that I truly wanted to keep confidential from Caroline (but left enough letters about as to throw her off the scent). My most successful hiding spot was between the pages of Mr. Hurst's Bible. He seldom read it (he had rejected his parents' lifestyle most vigorously upon his majority, when he came into an inheritance from his uncle) and the thick, large pages were ideal for concealing missives. Caroline had no interest in the Bible at all, so I considered myself quite safe putting things within it.

What, you may ask, was so personal to me as to require concealment from Caroline's prying? Well, Mr. Hurst had written to me whilst we were engaged and when gone for business. I treasured the mostly mundane lines with an occasional semi-romantic sentiment thrown in. Before we married, there was "I long for our marriage and to be able to spend all day with you" and "When we are married, I hope to discover that your lips are as sweet as they appear to be" and "How glad I am that in a week I shall be husband to you as wife." Then after we were married when he was away, he wrote "Prepare yourself for the attentions that shall be yours when I return" (it turned out that when he did return, he had me thrice that night, which reassured me that on his week-long trip he had not visited another's bed; it was gratifying that he desired me that much, even though afterwards I was quite sore), "my bed is lonely without you here" and my favorite "Today I saw a lovely flowering tree and wished you were there so I could point it out to you. I plucked a blossom, intending to press it for you that we might discover what it be and plant one, but this was at the beginning of the day and the flower was hopeless mangled in my pocket when I thought to retrieve it that evening. However, do you see this small smear of pink? This I formed from rubbing it on the page for you." These letters I hid between the pages of Song of Songs.

The latest letter I had hidden, received the day before, was nothing of this sort and found its home in Exodus. It was from Charles and the outer page had been addressed to our butler with a misspelling of his name that indicated it was intended for us. This was a method we had developed for any private news.

Charles wrote with his usual blottings, but many years of practice allowed me to decipher the following message.

Dear Sam and Louisa,

You may congratulate me. I am now officially courting Miss Bennet, who in a week's time shall be living with her Uncle and Aunt Gardiner on Grace Church Street. When she goes to London, so shall I. It is quite settled in my mind that I shall marry her if she will have me. I was a fool to listen to anyone else's advice on the matter and to waste so much time. Perhaps if I had asked for her hand before leaving Netherfield, much unhappiness would have been spared.

I have learnt that Mr. Darcy has married her sister, so I expect that together we all shall weather this storm, and perhaps even draw closer based on such association.

I know Caroline will throw a fit when she learns of it all (for she has sent me three letters thus far demanding I quit Netherfield and keep away from the Bennets and has threatened such doom that you would think my actions would bring the apocalypse on. I refuse to reply to such hysterics and prefer to let her stew. To keep the peace, my sanity and spare what I can of her reputation, when I return to London I shall be staying at an inn. I hope to keep Caroline from learning of my courtship with Miss Bennet until after we marry but as I shall be escorting Jane about town, Caroline may hear of it nevertheless before the wedding announcement.

I know I have Sam's support and hope to have yours as well, Louisa, as you had mine when you decided on him. If I do, I shall invite you to an engagement dinner and then the wedding and you shall always be welcome in our homes. If not, know I will always choose dear Jane first.

I hope I may count on you to temper Caroline's anger when she learns of it. If she is wise, she will say nothing against the Bennets as she will only tar herself with the same brush. Should she say a word against them once she learns of her new sister, I shall know how to act.

Yours,

Charles Bingley

Mr. Hurst and I read this letter together in the evening in the bed we had shared since returning from the country. While we read, his hand rested low on my as yet still flat abdomen.

"Shall we write Charles back together?" I asked. "I shall certainly give him and dear Miss Bennet my full support."

Mr. Hurst turned toward me and nuzzled my neck. "You are just hoping for a kinder aunt for our little one," he opined.

"And what if it if I am? I always did like Jane Bennet even if I was not sure that she was the best choice for Charles. But as he considers the matter quite settled, then so do I. Caroline has no patience for babies. While she sees the necessity of creating an heir for a wealthy husband so she might have someone to care for her in her dotage, any child of hers will be raised almost entirely by nurses, governesses and then schools. But Jane, I can imagine her cooing over children."

"She would also make a pleasing and agreeable sister," he opined.

We both glanced in the direction of our home where Caroline's bedroom was located and I knew him well enough to know that in our silence we both were acknowledging that Caroline in contrast was, more frequently than not, not a pleasing and agreeable sister.

"Perhaps Caroline will marry soon," I commented, expressing more of a wish than a realistic hope.

The very next morning I found myself calling on Mr. Darcy with Caroline while nursing a throbbing headache. She planned to beg Mr. Darcy to save our brother from himself. I had not wished to call on Mr. Darcy for assistance, both because I knew that Charles was most decided and because I planned to give him my support. Mr. Hurst and I tried to dissuade her, but she would not listen to reason, and we feared what she would do if we let her go in to beg an audience while unaccompanied.

I thought it was unlikely that things would go Caroline's way no matter how much she might beg him. While Mr. Darcy could dislike such a match as much as he might like, the man was not going to chase his friend down and demand he change his mind.

Additionally, I knew the presumptuousness of Caroline's actions. Caroline never had any reason to expect anything from Mr. Darcy but mere politeness, and she was pushing the bounds of even that in intruding when the knocker was not on the door. I knew that whatever kind feelings we might bear toward Mr. Darcy, that in truth we would be unlikely to have any association with him if not for his friendship with Charles.

Learning that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was Mrs. Darcy was certainly a surprise to us all. Still, I might have been amused at how fate had joined Miss Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy, when I had always thought she disliked him so, and how Caroline's sharp tongue had caused her own humiliation, had I not feared what this great man could do to me and Mr. Hurst. But oh, I did not enjoy having to assist Mr. Hurst in dragging Caroline out of the house, not while sporting a roaring headache.

This incident had been the start of a horrible few days for Caroline, and because she was having a horrible time meant that I had to suffer too. Oh, her whining and complaining afterwards, I could hardly bear it! "I should have been Mrs. Darcy! How could he have picked her to marry now, to make himself uncle to the little bast*rd? She should be attending to him on her knees rather than on his arm."

It was with great effort that I avoided laughing at the thought that had struck me then. Likely Caroline had meant that Mrs. Darcy should be scrubbing his floors, but as a married woman I knew that sometimes a woman might be on her knees attending to her husband's yard. Mr. Hurst liked that well indeed.

Having seen how Mr. Darcy used to stare at Miss Elizabeth, I would not doubt that she was not a mere ornament for his arm in public but was quite occupied with her various marital duties. I wished them both well in my mind.

I could have told Caroline that Lady Henrietta would never receive her. After all, who are we to her? She has never called upon us. But Caroline had some scheme about preserving her connection to Mr. Darcy through Miss Darcy. I knew it would never work, for Miss Darcy is a shy, young thing, who cowered when Caroline grew loud, who had no affection for the woman who clearly saw her as just a means to an end rather than someone to be cared about for herself.

After that, on the carriage ride home I was treated to listening to Caroline go on and on about the unfairness of us potentially gaining Miss Bennet as a sister, losing out to the new Mrs. Darcy "who has nothing to recommend her but having an unseemly independence and being a great walker, in short being nothing to me," and about her frustration that Lady Henrietta wrongfully refused our call, "Miss Darcy will be quite upset when she learns of it, for she likes me so."

I knew that nothing could be further from the truth.

in exasperation I told her, "Quit your whinging. If Charles's were to ask for and gain Miss Bennet's hand, can you not see that having our brother married to the sister of Mrs. Darcy cannot but tie Mr. Darcy into a closer association with us all? He may eventually accept your presence in his life again. Do not doubt that there is only so much of you I can bear. You will drive me to leave for the country sooner than needs be for my lying in."

Caroline's jaw dropped open. "Surely not. You cannot be having a child now! Where shall I live? Not with Charles and Jane! What if that fallen girl wants to visit? I would be ruined, the same as her."

I shrugged. "Perhaps Mr. Hurst would be willing to let you come with us to his parents, but the only time you shall be likely to see another soul is attending their church. But they are all simple folks and there is not an eligible bachelor among their associates, none at all." Here I might have been exaggerating, but I hardly thought she would want to marry a man who would expect her to live as simply as he in a devout life.

Caroline shuddered, actually shuddered. "No, that is not acceptable at all. You just cannot have a baby now. I have heard," here she dropped her voice low, "that there are means to stop being with child, to remove it from the womb."

I reared back, horrified, and then in some impulse I can only blame on the protective instincts that come with impending motherhood, slapped her hard.

While she gripped her hurt cheek in astonishment, I took advantage of her sudden silence to declare, "I want this child and so does Mr. Hurst. I shall not live my life in a manner simply geared toward gratifying yours. If you are so worried about living with Charles, you had better find yourself a husband."

Fortunately for me, the carriage drew in front of Mr. Hurst's house then and I was able to spring out of it without even waiting for the helpful hand of a footman. I hurried into the house before I could hear whatever drivel might have come to her lips then, sought out Mr. Hurst and told him what had occurred.

He was no less astonished and horrified than I had been. "Your own sister suggested murdering our child for her own convenience? I cannot have her in my house, not one minute more. Over the years I have tolerated much from her for your sake, but this, this is too much."

At one time I might have argued for her to stay, but I had no wish to do so now. Not given our long history and what she had just said, showing the selfishness, the blackness within her own heart. For she knew how much I desired a child, how many years it had taken to finally have the answer to my prayers. "Where shall she go?" I asked.

"I care not. But do you not think we ought to send her to live with Charles when he arrives in town? He is her guardian until her majority. She can be his responsibility now."

"She is sure to interfere with his courting of Miss Bennet," I noted.

"Then he will be all that more motivated to see her settled," Mr. Hurst replied. "Surely he can buy her a husband and get her out of all of our lives. All the better, that would be." I was about to argue (for Charles's sake rather than Caroline's) when my husband placed his hand upon my middle. "Think of our child. Do you think he deserves to live with such an aunt?"

"As a proper wife, I will defer to your judgment," I replied.

A/N: I can well imagine how well Caroline i. I'm not going to chicken out and send her off to live with some old aunt and let's be honest, what "friend" would willingly take on this Caroline. What would you like to have happen next?