Pride and Prejudice Fan Fiction

NOTE: Changed facts involving the Bingleys; I have the Bingley's father owning two estates (Yes, I know the real facts).

Talk at Grave

CH. 1

The sound of a blabbering brook could be heard in the background, its gentle murmur weaving through the air like a whispered secret. The ancient trees stood sentinel, their gnarled branches reaching skyward, their leaves rustling in quiet conversation. They concealed a graveyard with half a dozen simple headstones, weathered and unadorned. The earth beneath concealed the remains of someone once known by many, now forgotten by all but one lone grieving lady nearly to her twenty-first birthday. That was not quite true, but often it felt that way.

Kneeling by the grave, Miss Caroline Bingley's tears flowed freely. Her sobs merged with the babbling of the brook, a symphony of sorrow and regret. The water's melody masked her anguish, shielding it from prying ears. She had become adept at hiding her true emotions, a skill honed through years of societal pretense.

Caroline's mind replayed the scene of a dying father, full of regret and pleading for forgiveness. "I was wrong," he had whispered, his breath labored. "I wove a web when a tent would have sufficed. You must break free. Go back to your true self." His words echoed in her conscience, a haunting refrain. Mr. Bingley struggled to speak.

Caroline sighed. She knew what her father was referring to because of other things she had become aware of. And her father was correct; she needed to break out of a cage that others had convinced her to enter, but had no power to lock. She had been too young at the time to comprehend why Louisa had made her own changes, had no real clue how she had deflected things onto her, but she had known Mr. Hurst was involved; only a brainless fool would not have made that connection.

And with him being in the mix, piece by piece, little by little, Caroline had been able to put the whys behind Louisa's own actions in connection to Mr. Hurst. There was at least one thing, maybe two, Caroline knew that had been kept under wraps, still would be—unless she felt it necessary to play those cards for her own safety.

Louisa may have appeared reserved to many, but behind closed doors? She sure could put pressure on people. And big sis had gone away for a time, then come back and had been in a big hurry to marry. Louisa had accepted the first offer of marriage that came her way. Big sister surely had not considered Mr. Hurst's character. Now Caroline knew why, but it was one of those cards that had never been played.

What little sister had openly argued with her sister the other day was Louisa pushing Caroline out into society. And yet then turned around and lived vicariously through her. Thereby, setting up the factors in which to blame any of her 'wild' streaks on baby sister. It had done no good. Louisa had stuck to her story and denied everything, blaming Caroline's words on little sister's being away from London too long. Her mind stayed on what her sister was like behind closed doors.

They—the family—knew the truth of her actions even when denying the truth of those same words. And it was not just about social parties. It was over Mr. Hurst's drinking and her questioning how much time he was supposedly spending at the pub when he was reported to have been seen at the horse races, or sitting in a game of chance.

Mr. Hurst always denied he was gambling, even though there were plenty of people confessing to Miss Caroline otherwise. Therefore, her sister's acceptance of Mr. Hurst's drunkard ways, which included all of its lies and gambling, was of Louisa's own making. And if anyone thought any differently, they were playing the part of an imbecile very well.

"Why did you have to let him talk you into that game, Papa? It cost you our first home. It would have cost you your second home too if not for that deal you made. Why did you not just tell that visitor the truth of why you needed that kind of money? It was an insane amount. Why not be upfront? You never made so much as one bet before, or after, that mess.

We let all the servants go, a fact Louisa never admits to anyone, nor will Charles. We managed not to drop down in class, but that was because of Charles - even with his apparent lack of backbone, he had enough to keep things going; miracle enough as that was. His friendship with Mr. Darcy helped immensely. A better friend no one ever had. And how you managed to keep us our dowries I suspect we owe to Mr. Darcy too though that is one I cannot prove. I only know of the gambling issue and estate matters."

It was a conversation she was not supposed to have overheard. Alas, she had never caught the man's name who was involved. And, with her gone so much at boarding school, it had taken her longer to connect the dots as to her father's loss of lands than it normally would have.

"Charles - thank heavens - has managed to learn from your mistake and stay out of the gambling scene. His wise investments - even at his young age - allowed you to keep a hold of that second estate. Yes, he sold it shortly after your death, but not before securing Netherfield. A wise move on his part. I think people give him too little credit, especially our sibling and her husband."

She stopped speaking for a bit. A bird was heard overhead and then faded away. And then Caroline began speaking again.

"Let people think what they want as to why the rest of us came. I really do not care. Louisa tells herself that us following our brother solves her problems, but I am not willing to put on any more acts. And I am not taking the blame anymore for wanting us to go back up to London either.

I have been a bird in an unlocked cage refusing to come out. I refuse to stay within any confines of my own making any longer. You should have seen their faces before I made this trip. Mr. Hurst and Louisa's I mean. You would think I had committed treason for refusing to play their game and not attend that social Louisa had quietly got me invited to." Caroline stopped speaking as she trailed her hand over the top of her father's grave. Her mind turned back to Charles.

Charles was a sweetheart. He had always been kind to her. Her brother had not spoken any harsh words to Caroline. And Jane Bennet… Caroline smiled.

"Bless her, Papa, if it were not for my new sister, Charles might - in spite of his potential - have risked becoming a puppet to Mr. Hurst when I leave if it were not for Jane. In spite of all my acting, I was thrilled when those two got together. She loves him and it has given him confidence to truly take a stand against Mr. Hurst's horrible money requests." She sighed and went back to how the Hursts had managed to paint her as a social climber and how she had played the part all too well.

"As you already know, people think I love high society and cannot wait to get back to London." Caroline shook her head. "Like I said, I no longer care about that act."

A dog barking stopped Caroline's speaking but only for a moment. "Mr. Hurst got drunk, again, he told Louisa that the cook had left the door ajar and that Petey, my dog, had slipped out without him knowing it. That Petey had followed him hunting and the dog getting shot was an accident." Her jaw clenched and her fist tightened. "Accident or not, I do not know, but it was not the cook who opened the door. It was Mr. Hurst; I saw him, but Louisa would not believe me. Insisted I was lying. Why Papa, would I lie about that?"

No reply came, nor did she expect any to come. However, Caroline heard a faint rustling of leaves and she turned her head. It was only for a split second the lady could have sworn a figure could have been seen among the trees but, if there had been one, it was gone as fast as it had come. Sighing she stood up and walked down out of the old family cemetery, down a hard-packed road and pushed open a set of heavy doors.

A large round foyer could be seen in front of her with stairs on either side going up. A neglected grand chandelier covered with dust, cobwebs and grime hung in the center of the room. And, in her mind only, music played and people danced. It was a scene she missed, not because of the party being replayed before her inner eye, but because the woman laughing in the center with dark blue eyes and hair matching Caroline's was her mother.

"Ma'am," A man's voice behind Caroline about made her jump and she turned around. "I am sorry, but it is not safe to be in here. The place is to be torn down soon."

"I am sorry," Miss Caroline spoke softly. "I should have asked before entering. Please, forgive me. I will leave."

The old man watched her go. He had seen her in the graveyard, saw which grave she sat by and easily figured out which family she most likely belonged to even though he had not been in the area all that long. "Poor lassie…" His usage of the word showed which country he had been raised in. "It is a wonder you traveled back up to visit your father's grave."

Those words he only spoke to himself knowing it would do no good to speak them to anyone else. However, he noticed Mr. Bingley's grave now stood out for as clean as it was. It had been his shadow that Caroline had seen, but there had been no need to point it out to the young lady. He had come to clean the graveyard, but when she had been spotted, he simply had gone to do other things.

Caroline had not looked back once she climbed into her carriage. She could not go back to Netherfield, she had already told the Hursts and the Bingleys, though Jane had turned into a lovely sister; it was not going to be home for her.

"Are you too good for us all of a sudden?" Louisa had stuck out her chin in private, away from the party crowd.

"No, I am too good to stay in an unlocked cage; I refuse to pay for the bed you so willingly made."

Caroline had purposely spoken the words in front of the whole family, including Jane, for she had no desire for Louisa to be able to twist her words to Charles and his wife later. Now? She was going to return to the couple who had shocked everyone by changing their ways and pulling together - and not apart.