Hello lovely people
I know I know – I've been missing in action. I'm just going to say life and its many twists and turns and disappointments sometimes become rather overwhelming. I am well and we are happy so upwards and onwards.
I actually went back and read through this story from the start – I can't believe I wrote so much! Thanks to those who messaged and popped up reviews. You are all so very kind.
Right let's get this badger finished yeah? A bit of an easy chapter to get myself back in. Take care all
Y x
"Oh la, but of course we only arrived back in ton yesterday evening," trilled Lady Matlock, petting Miss Carmichael's hand. "Honestly Richard has not a care in the world, or any ounce of regard for the work one must do in order to prepare even a simple evening at home with an intimate group of friends such as this." Here Lady Matlock leaned across the table towards her youngest son, wagging her index finger playfully in his direction. "I do hope once you make this charming girl your wife you will show her more care than you do your dear old mama."
"Oh, mother do not talk such nonsense. There is no such woman who could ever compare to such a Lady. I believe there has never been a woman in all of London with a finer table. If I do not keep you on your toes, I do not know who else will."
Lady Matlock physically preened at such praise from her darling boy, her blue eyes radiating with biased motherly affection. Miss Carmichael merely blinked. Caroline took this lack of response as confirmation of Annabelle's empty headedness.
Caroline rolled her eyes heavenwards. Honestly! Was it any wonder Richard was so spoilt when his behaviour was so indulged by his mother. In his mother's eyes he could do no wrong. Yet Caroline knew his true nature perfectly and taking aim called out brightly;
"I must say, it is such a shame our dear Miss de Bourgh and her charming fiancé are not amongst our little party. For then we really would be a merry set with much to celebrate." She narrowed her eyes, taking a sip from her glass, focusing intently on Richard's composure. "I myself feel her absence most keenly."
She observed the tightening of Richard's jaw at the mention of Anne, his whole demeanour stiffening. His natural response, she knew, to control his short temper beneath. Caroline smiled in satisfaction.
"Miss Bingley you are quite right, quite right," boomed the Earl of Matlock from the far end of the table. "Dear Anne, has much to celebrate. Do not fret Darcy! Your pride shall mend, London is full of young women most eager to make an advantageous match. You shall not feel her rejection for long I can assure you. My sister shall always regard you as her own, have no fear on that front."
Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I assure you uncle I feel no such disappointment."
"Poppycock boy! I cry poppycock! Do not stand upon ceremony here, not with me my boy. For what man would not wish to add Rosings to his estate. Sir Lewis always had a keen eye for an investment. If I had thought Annes head was to be so easily turned, I would have encouraged my boys..." here he faltered upon receiving a sharp look from Richard. "But alas, these things often have a way of working themselves out for the better. If only Henry would bring home a nice girl, for then I could die tomorrow a happy man."
"That shall never happen." Richard replied dryly. "Do not fret father, I for one know my duty."
"And how is Henry? Did he not return to ton to enjoy the season end? I should have thought him keen to wager on the St Leger?" Darcy asked keen to change the focus of the conversation to more palatable topics.
"He was set to follow our carriage, but you know Henry. The boy needs a leash."
"Harold," scolded Lady Matlock firmly. She would not have her husband air their dirty laundry at the dining table. She had long stopped fretting over her eldest son, for it did no good to scold the boy and only left her face looking much altered.
"Perhaps ladies the time has come for us to retire to the parlour and leave the gentleman to their own amusements."
--
Settled within the folds of the deep burgundy parlour, Caroline accepted the proffered glass of ratafia begrudgingly. She really had no desire to sit an hour with only Annabelle and Lady Matlock for company. At least she did not need to worry about Charles. With Darcy present she was sure no harm would come to her brother in Alfred's company. In truth Alfred paid him little attention, but she did not like how chummy both Alfred and Richard had become. Nothing good could come from such an alliance. With Richard one could never trust where his loyalties would land.
She had felt Alfreds eyes upon her person all evening. Her stomach twisted, a pain deep within at her growing understanding of the situation. The old-fashioned dress restricting her movements, almost suffocating her in its hold. She had been a fool to think him harmless, merely after his share of her family's wealth. He knew all their secrets. Held the power to ruin their social standing. For that was all that mattered. Gossip would win the day; propriety would see her cast out and she would never be able to show her face in London society again.
She thought of Cedric, praying he would return soon. Yet, what if he returned no wiser with no ammunition gained for their survival. There was no guarantee Montague could fix such a mess. Her biggest fear was that the only way to beat Alfred at his own game would be to expose the narrative from their side in the hopes of limiting the damage to their reputation as much as possible. She had thought on this endlessly, even more knowing her sister was with child. How could they ever survive the gossip and the likely exile from society that would follow. No that was not an option. If Cedric could not secure their future, then she knew what must be done. She would marry him.
She could hear Lady Matlock and Annabelle chattering in the background, but Caroline paid them no heed. Her mood was sombre. How foolish she had been. And not just recently but for much of her adult life. Montague chastised her behaviour, saw her flaws painfully clear, yet said he loved her. She almost laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of it all. He loved her despite her spoilt attitude and the atrocious way she had treated him following their past exchanges.
Another would be ashamed of such a first impression, yet Caroline had come to the realisation that this was how it should always have been. Her pride and conceited manner were her own, who she was, he had not tried to change her. To change overnight was impossible yet she believed she wanted to improve, for Cedric to see she could be a better person for him.
The irony of it all was not lost on her. For years she had pinned for a man who she felt could give her everything she had ever desired. A large home, fortune, name and good breeding. So fixated she had been in what Darcy stood for, never had she once considered what little he really had to offer. She could see how unsuitable a partner he would have been for her, and how awful a wife she would have made him. All the time and energy she had wasted. The more she knew of Cedric, the more she feared she was not good enough for such a man. The nephew of an Earl; successful in his field; a home off Hanover Square which she felt could easily equal Darcy house if she could only decorate it in the right manner. She had been a fool to not see his worth.
Yet this did not matter. For the first time in her life, she understood that she had been short sighted. Never had she felt the feelings Cedric brought to the surface. She had seen the way her mother relied on their father, not just his wealth, but the need for his company. In those tortured years of her mother mental decline following her father's death Caroline had vowed never to lose her head nor her heart to any man. She downed the last of the sickly sweet ratafia by way of defeat. If she must, she would marry Alfred, but her heart and head would always belong to Montague.
--
"What say you Darcy to a game of Whist?" Richard asked brightly pulling his cousin to the side separating themselves from the rest of the gentleman. "It is high time you let me beat you in a game of cards!"
Once out of earshot of the others Darcy lowered his voice turning his face so only his cousin could see his expression. "And what have you learnt?
"Nothing of great importance," Richard replied in the same hushed tones. "No debt, nothing untoward. As you requested, I have befriended Alfred, but little I have I found to report back. Are you quite sure he wishes his cousin harm in the way you believe? You know how men are, I see little to give the impression that throwing some money in his direction would not fix."
"I am not privy to all the details, but Montague is certain in his view, and I for one am inclined to believe his better judgement. There is something greater going on. I cannot tell if Charles simply does not understand the situation or if he is keeping more from me. Even you must see Miss Bingley is acting out of character."
"Miss Bingley is always out of sorts; she is forever unreasonable, so I am afraid I see little alteration."
Darcy gave his cousin a scolding look. "Colville trusts Montague explicitly. All I know is he has gone to Scarbough to make enquiries, though I will admit I look forward to his return to find out more. I cannot but feel something detrimental is imminent. I will not see Charles suffer."
"And you will not. You do not need Colville for I stand with you cousin. I shall continue to shadow the man, but apart from a clear admiration for his young cousin I have seen no reason to cry wolf."
"He has spoken to you of his interest in Miss Bingley?" Darcy asked eagerly. He had seen the way Alfred looked at Caroline but was surprised if she allowed herself to be intimidated by any man.
"Yes and no," Richard replied casually, curtailing Darcy's enthusiasm. "He speaks of her often, always complimentary but there is something more I cannot quite express. For all her flaws she is a very attractive woman, I dare say he is simply enamoured with her looks. Even I can see the appeal."
"It does not sit well with me," Darcy replied, "there is something else afoot I can feel it. Promise you will continue as you are? See if you can find anything of interest."
"Of course, I will Darcy, but you must know I see very little..."
At that moment the door to the room was thrown open. Henry dressed in a travelling coat, his stove-pipe hat still upon his head marched into the room tugging his hands free from his dark leather gloves.
"Dear Lord, what an evening. The last eight miles has been raining cats and dogs I tell you father. Not good one jot for the horses." Here Henry looked up slightly taken aback by the collection of men standing within his father billiard room. "My apologies," he bowed removing his top hat and unclasping his coat, "I had not thought you with company."
"My boy, my boy," Lord Matlock chuckled, leisurely pouring a brandy glass high for his eldest son. "If you had come with your mother and I as planned and not gone off on your own endeavours you too should have been one of the party. A little impromptu gathering to celebrate your brothers upcoming nuptials."
Henry paused looking directly at Richard. Richard gave a curt nod by way of reply, there was no warmth in his welcome.
"My apologies but I was somewhat detained and... well perhaps it is a story best left for another day," Henry stepped forward taking the brandy glass, looking about the room until his eyes fell upon the unfamiliar face of the stocky blonde-haired gentleman standing next to Charles Bingley.
"Oh, my apologies," cried Charles apologetically. "Lord Henry Viscount of Scarsdale this is my cousin Alfred Bingley."
Henry's eyes grew wide momentarily, a reaction not missed by Darcy, before schooling his features into a welcoming grin. "I do hope my brother and cousin have been keeping you entertained Mr Bingley, I know how tedious family dinners can be." He sipped from his glass, his eyes narrowing. "Father, I think it a most opportune moment to reunite with the ladies. I for one do not wish to feel the wrath from mother for not making my presence known. Shall we head through?"
As the gentleman snuffed their pipes and drained the dregs of their glasses, Henry moved to stand beside Darcy. "I do not know the particulars cousin, but from the little I do know I do not wish that man present in my home a moment longer." His voice was low and calm, but Darcy could feel his angry.
"I have just left our mutual acquaintance Mr Montague in the capable hands of his house staff and the doctor. The reason for my delay is I was fortunate enough to escort the gentleman on his return to London. I believe there stands the reason for our friends current rather depleted state," he nodded his head towards Alfred before downing his glass of brandy in one. Darcy turned to face his cousin; his expression etched with concern. "Do not worry Fitz, Cedric will be well enough. He is made of tough stock. Though I believe it would be greatly in your benefit if you were to make your excuses and go call on the gentleman directly."