Hello lovely people...
My... my... two uploads in one week, are we not a lucky bunch!
I thought it might be best to pop these two chapters up together of sorts; rip the old band-aid off in a oner so to speak. I think we can all agree that the last one was a bit darker than my usual fare. Caroline has a habit of getting under people's skin, and I was determined to try and flesh out her full character as much as my little typing fingers would allow.
Anyway onwards and upwards. Every review and message is much appreciated :)
Yas
Montague flinched at the viciousness behind her final statement. He had never expected an outcome to unfold such as this. To her credit there were no hysterics. She sat silent, her chin raised, her eyes holding his gaze defiantly. He could tell she was preparing herself, waiting for him to cast her off, to hear the words she so expected as rejection.
He leaned back against the edge of his desk, his mind processing all he had heard. The poor woman. He felt an increasing need for something much stronger than tea. He turned from his desk and crossed the room where the brandy decanter sat alongside several glasses. He held an empty glass towards her in invitation, but she merely shook her head in reply.
He poured a small glass and knocked it back, before filling the glass again and returning to his spot upon the edge of the desk. She was still watching him, her whole body tense, ready to react when required.
"And is this your opinion of her?"
Her eyes flared; how could he ask such a thing. "Of course not. She was nothing more than a poor unfortunate child. It broke my heart to hear such things, yet in knowing her truth, it explained so much of her character. My mother's temper was volatile, unpredictable and obsessive. She had always been a strong woman, firm. But there was always something bubbling beneath the surface, something dark and suppressed you had to mollycoddle to keep at bay. I just never knew how awful the truth of it was."
She paused chewing on her bottom lip. He listened to her in silence, his chest aching with an overwhelming desire to comfort her. She looked tired, her skin as pale as the white fabric of her Grecian style gown, contrasting greatly against the mass of red velvet in a pool around her lap.
"But none of that will matter," she continued in a small voice. "You know what people will say, what they will call her. To them a whore is simply a whore."
"Never use that word in reference to your mother again, do you hear me? Never." He sounded annoyed; his reaction confused her greatly. His irk rattled her.
"Why? It is what everyone will think. What they will imply. She was nothing, a no one. They will twist it as they see fit. They will think my father a fool and everything we have achieved will be for naught."
"Only if you let them!"
"What choice do we have. Have you any idea how it has been for us, for me? It never mattered how successful my father was; how rich we were, how accomplished our talents, how well we dressed or how we acted! We have never been good enough."
"Why do you care so much for the opinion of others? Why allow them to hold such a power over you?"
"Because it is how things are," she yelled at him. "It is how things are done and the rules by which we must follow in order to survive within the world we live. My mother pushed and pushed Louisa and I. The best dance and music tutors; master painters apprentices to refine our watercolours, a former opera singer no less to teach us our scales. She spent hours on our education, on our posture and appearance; no detail was forgotten. She openly despised the ton heirarchy, yet was desperate for her children to become masters of it. She was furious when Louisa married Mr Hurst, a man of fashion but with no real power. None of them however felt her wrath, it was only I still present at home."
She paused lost in thought, her dark eyes clouding as they recalled a memory she had no desire to share.
"I understand it now of course. She was our mother. She just wanted to see us well settled, entirely protected within a tier of society that by her view was practically untouchable. She wanted us as far removed from our origins as possible."
"How old were you when you found out all this?"
"I was preparing for my coming out." She gave a small hollow laugh; the sound pained him. "I was so excited. Never had I seen so many exquisite gowns. Mother had insisted I have at least two of every style, each one was more elaborate than the last. She called me her opus vitae. I had just turned seventeen when she confessed the guilt of her past to me. She was going through a rather difficult period. Her delusions were fierce, she refused to eat, would not sleep. I would sit with her during the night, stop her scratching at her skin and harming herself when one of her fits would take hold. She left us but a few weeks later. I had never seen water so red. I never thought her capable of such a thing."
"Oh, my poor girl." He moved forward in haste, kneeling before her chair as he reached for her hand.
"I do not want your sympathy," she spat pulling her hand from his. "It changes nothing and does not alter what has been." She dropped her head. "I will not have you or anyone pity me."
"How can I not feel for you?" He took her hands in his, this time she did not object. He moved his right hand to cup her face, lifting her chin till she met his gaze. "Do you mean to tell me you have shouldered this burden all on your own? Your siblings know nothing?"
"It was never their burden to bear. Louisa has a nervous disposition; and Charles, well my brother has not one cruel or hurtful bone in his body. They believe she passed on in her sleep, and I shall never allow them to know otherwise. I could not inflict such pain upon either of them. I could never allow my brother to know his true start in this world. Of that one desire, I do hope you shall keep my confidence."
He gently caressed the side of her cheek with his thumb. She turned her face into the warmth of his hand, allowing her eyes to close against the sensation.
"It is one of the reasons I push him. I have pushed Charles so hard into purchasing an estate if his own. Encouraging him to marry and marry well." She opened her eyes and looked at him most earnestly. "For then he will always be safe, an advantageous marriage would offer him a level of protection that my own preservation can not give him."
"Louisa is happy and established, and although the man is ridiculous, in truth I know he would never abandon my sister. I may think him a buffoon but she is cared for and protected with him."
"And what of you?" He asked, his hand stilling from its soothing caress.
"I do what I believe my mother expected of me. I keep them protected and I cover any cracks. It had never crossed my mind that someone would be willing to drag up such a sordid piece of history. I never thought a boy from her past would appear as a man at our door."
"Is this why you blindly make a fool of yourself over Darcy?" The words were out his mouth before he realised what he was asking. He whinced at his own insensitivity.
Her temper rose. "There is nothing blind about my intentions towards Darcy. He has shown me nothing but kindness. He has always sheltered myself from the vicsious tongues and attitudes of the ton. Your darling cousin Julianna being of no exception. And why should I not marry a man such as Darcy? Why should I not strive for a superior, well respected husband? Should I not be elevated to the position my mother most desired? I would then be safeguarded from the utter mess of my families past, sheltered from exposure by social position. Should I not be allowed to secure my own happiness?"
"And you really think a man such as Darcy could offer you all that?" He rose to his feet. She felt the loss of his touch against her cheek keenly.
"Of course, he would and more. Never could your cousin or any of those wretched girls who made my season a living hell look down their noses at me as the wife of such a man. My only fault is that I have not acted sooner, secured such a match. For now, I am exposed."
"I witnessed your behaviour towards Lord Colville, that was not the actions of a woman in love with another." He chastised her with feeling.
She looked at him with narrow eyes, she let out a sigh of frustration, why could he not understand?
"What is love other than our own interpretation of such a concept. Love is irrelevant unless you give it meaning. I have loved Darcy since I was a girl, I have loved what he represents. He would be my greatest achievement. But I am no fool, your friend was charming and amiable. A Viscount far out ranks Darcy, I would have been a fool to at not least try. And we all know how well that ended."
He placed his hands in his pockets and leaned against his desk once more. He felt rising childish jealousy over the regard she expressed for a man whom he believed not worthy of her attention. Regardless of his feelings for Caroline, he would do all in his power to protect the Bingley's from exposure. But right now, alone in her company, he had to know more, a burning question he had to ask.
"And what of me?" He enquired solemnly. "You must have sensed my growing attraction towards you. I have tried to hide it, but it is a feeling I am unable to control."
"Does that very admission not lend itself to the answer?" she replied sarcastically. "If you felt the need to hide it, then clearly you were ashamed of it. Even before you knew our shameful history, you were ashamed of such feelings. We all know attraction means nothing, if anything it only causes pain and ruin."
He ran his hand through his dark hair in frustration. "Attraction was not the correct term." He saw anger flash across her face, which only heightened his agitation.
"What do you want me to say Caroline? I have never been ashamed of you!"
He saw a coldness settle across her features. "I desire nothing from you. I require you to do the job in which my brother placed his confidence in you. You now know everything; we have no secrets. You are free to think of me what you will. All I ask is that you do not abandon my brother."
"I would never not do my duty. Your brother is a good man, I will do all in my power to protect your family."
She nodded, rising from the chair in order to draw herself to her full height, to gain better control. She hated to feel small. She straightened her shoulders. "I think it would be best if I were to return to my sister's."
"I rather think not."
"There is no reason for you to keep me here any longer. I have upheld our agreement; I have told you every little sordid detail. I wish to leave."
"Caroline," he said her name softly.
"I do not want your pity Montague."
"You shall never have it," he replied in the same soft tone. "No man who values strength of character would ever take pity of such a woman."
Her breath faltered. She felt a fluttering of confusion in the pit of her stomach. She was tired, emotionally exhausted and growing increasingly uncomfortable. Yet that secret desire she felt when in his presence gnawed away in the place where she kept it well hidden. She could not allow it to surface. She would not allow herself to feel, feelings were not something one could control once they were given power. She would only lose him. She had to tell Cedric her intentions.
"Alfred told me, moments before you intervened, he desires to... " She involuntarily shuddered; "to have me for his wife."
"What in the devil do you mean?"
"Alfred said I would be foolish to consider any alternative. Do you not see? If I agree to marry him, he would not expose us. I have already considered how it should be. My dowry would more than satisfy his greed, and we can safeguard our reputation through my marriage contract. He would hardly wish to expose his wife to censure and ridicule."
"You cannot be serious."
"I see no other alternative. I am not married; I have failed to secure my standing. At least this way I can protect what we have. No one would ever know."
"No alternative! Do not be so foolish! I will not allow you to throw yourself on the mercy of a man who would force your hand."
"You have no power over me!" She shouted at him. "I will allow no man power over me. Even in this, my cousin must only believe he has won; in the end am I not the victor, do I not achieve my own ambition? What difference does it make? All women are forced in marriage, one way or another. We are nothing more than possessions, it all simply comes down to the price we are willing to pay. This is my decision to make."
He moved forward, grabbing her upper arms once more, but this time there was no gentleness in his touch. "Have you lost all sense," he roared at her, practically shaking her. "You would be throwing yourself on the mercy of man who has no scruples, no decency. You would never be happy."
"What choice do I have?" she replied, trying to pull herself free from his hold.
"You can choose to fight this, allow me time to formulate a plan. We can resolve this. I can protect you."
"I can protect me! I have no need for you!"
"I am not asking you to need me. I am asking you to trust me. I do not wish to own you. I am yours; can you not see that?"
She stilled in his arms; her dark eyes wide in disbelief.
"I am yours you wretched girl," he said with feeling leaning forward to rest his forehead against her own. He closed his eyes breathing in her scent, the warmth of her skin beneath his own. "I have been lost to you for months, I have just been too stubborn to realise how deeply. I will not allow you to waste your life on a man, any man so undeserving of you. I am not prepared to give you up before I have even had the chance to claim you as my own."
She pushed back against his forehead, revelling in the nearness of him. "You do not know what you are asking of me."
"I am asking if you could see yourself happy with me."
She lifted her hands, placing them on his shoulders to steady herself. She felt him tense firmly under her fingertips. "I could never make you happy. Two such people as ourselves, our tempers would never allow it. You are the nephew of an Earl and I the daughter of... I know not what. You would resent your choice." She lifted her forehead from his, her face inches from his own. "I could not bear to have you hate me."
"Do you feel nothing towards me?" He asked, bringing one hand down from her arm to grip the curve of her waist. "Tell me I have not fabricated all of this."
"Do not ask me such a thing."
"Tell me you feel nothing," he pressed her for an answer, his voice fierce but not in anger. He splayed his hand wide to brush the soft exposed skin of her lower back. "One word from you shall silence me on this subject forever."
"There is no one whom I trust more implicitly than yourself, no one whom I show my true self to more so than you. I believe you are the only person who really sees me, the good and the bad. In truth you terrify me."
The words were barely out her mouth before he crushed his mouth hard against her own, moving his hand flat against the curve of her lower back in order to pull her tightly against him. She responded just as he had hoped, arching her chest against him instantly, her hands gripping at his shirt. He moved his mouth against hers, drinking in the taste of her, basking in her scent and sounds.
His other hand was at her waist, kneading at the fabric of her dress, as he pulled her to him. He moved his other hand towards the back of her head, deepening their kiss, finally allowing himself to feel her thick hair beneath his fingers. He let out a low guttural moan when she gasped against his mouth in response to his increasing need.
He pulled his mouth from her, forcing himself to take a step back, but not removing his hands from her waist or hair. He took a loose curl between his fingers, feeling the weight of it as it glossed against his skin. "Your hair is like silk," he mused, leaning forward to kiss her gently upon the forehead. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen, she had never looked more delightful.
"You do not play fair, Cedric. There is much for us to discuss."
Me moved his lips to flutter gentle kisses over her temple and hairline. High upon finally hearing his name upon her lips. "Tomorrow, there will be plenty of time for discussions tomorrow. It is late and at present I feel both you and I have quite exhausted all conversation. I shall send for the maid to assist you."
She nodded but as he pulled away from her, moving to the door, she reached out grasping his arm to draw him back again. She looked at him with such intensity, he knew her meaning explicitly.
"Do you know what you are asking?"
She nodded slowly. "I do not wish to be parted from you."
He stepped forward, encircling her within his arms, pressing her against his chest as his hands moved down her back and through her silken hair. "Whatever am I going to do with you?"
She turned her face to his, closing the distance as she nuzzled her face into the nook of his shoulder. "Whatever you wish."
He laughed, low and guttural. "You are a wretched creature," he smiled kissing the top of her head as he held her tight.