Caroline: A Long Road Home, #3

By Meg Osborne

 

Caroline Bingley has successfully returned her brother and his friends to London - but will she be as successful in finally securing Mr Darcy's heart?

Finally realising how wrong she has been, Elizabeth Bennet is desperate to reconcile with the absent Mr Darcy, especially if doing so might also settle Jane's future with Mr Bingley. But London provides diversions of its own, and more misunderstandings lie in store for several scattered couples.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meg Osborne
• Release date: Jun 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215522783

Meg Osborne

Meg Osborne is an avid reader, tea drinker and unrepentant history nerd.  She writes sweet historical romance stories and Jane Austen fanfiction, and can usually be found knitting, dreaming up new stories, or adding more books to her tbr list than she'll get through in a lifetime.

Book preview

Chapter One

Caroline Bingley strode around a certain borough of London with all the confidence of a queen. Clad in a stylish new bonnet bought upon their first arrival back to town she sparkled, having told her brother that it would not serve her to go around looking countrified now that they were back once more amongst genteel society.

Yes, Caroline thought, stepping lightly over a puddle so as not to ruin her favourite pair of slippers. I managed things really rather well...

It had been a blessing to know that Colonel Fitzwilliam intended on bringing Anne de Bourgh to London, for the removal of his cousins prompted Mr Darcy to go with them, and then it was a matter of little effort to persuade Charles Bingley that they might go too. The Hursts had only a little reluctantly returned to their own house, which state of affairs Caroline could not mourn. She was no great admirer of her sister or brother-in-law and lately had found them to be a hindrance rather than a help to her in accomplishing her goals.

My goals... Here, Caroline sighed, for despite her delight at being back amongst familiar people and her favourite haunts, she was stilted in achieving what she truly wished to achieve. To be Mrs Caroline Darcy, Mistress of Pemberley and wife to the most accomplished and handsome man I have ever known. There was no small matter of his fortune, all of which served to make Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy a very estimable prospect. And he is Charles’s dearest friend. It is as if Providence herself had a hand in matching us! Or, she would have done, if only the Bennet family of Longbourn had not got in the way.

Caroline bristled a little to think of Jane Bennet, who had so swiftly stolen Charles’s heart. Caroline’s brother was many things she adored, but his naivete left him open for fortune-hunters the whole country over. He is lucky he has me to look out for him, she thought, swallowing any regret she might feel at having separated the young couple. It is not as if I did anything so very bad, she reminded herself. We have come to London - it is hardly the moon! If he still clings to his affectation for Jane Bennet then I certainly shall not stop him pursuing her. But I am quite sure after a week or two in the society he always used to favour, Jane Bennet will be nothing other than a memory. Relief overtook regret, for in securing her brother’s freedom Caroline maintained her own position. She was not about to be usurped as mistress to become a guest in her own home. I have bought the time I need to make Mr Darcy fall in love with me! She smiled as she thought this, imagining the moment when he, stumbling with nerves, would utter those few glorious words...

Miss Bingley?

The voice that hailed her from across the street did not belong to Mr Darcy and its merriment was entirely at odds with the romance she had been concocting in her head. Caroline turned so swiftly she did not see where she was going and plunged her foot into another of the many puddles that dotted the London street, yelping when she felt cold damp seep through to her stockings.

I thought that was you! Good day, Miss Bingley!

Stricken and unable to move, Caroline could do nothing but hobble back a pace and place her foot on solid ground, wriggling her toes uncomfortably and arranging her features into some vague approximation of a smile.

Good day, Colonel Fitzwilliam. She peered past him. Are you alone?

I certainly am! And more’s to the pity, so are you! Or have you some companion lurking behind one of these doorways, hmm? He beamed at her and Caroline felt her annoyance at his bumbling appearance recede a little. He was not as handsome as his cousin, nor as wealthy, nor did he possess a particularly remarkable position in the society Caroline loved to bask in, but he was a gentleman. It would be better to be seen on his arm than alone.

I was on my way to Church Street. There is to be a lecture from the Missions Society on the plight of the poor and our efforts to alleviate their suffering.

A worthy cause, indeed. Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed. You must allow me to accompany you at least as far as the hall. His smile did not falter. I’ll confess I’m not a great one for lectures but I certainly do not mean to stand by and watch a young lady of my acquaintance walk the streets without an escort.

Caroline sniffed but agreeably fell into step beside him. She had no all-consuming interest in charity either but had made a promise to a friend that she would attend and as she was still seeking to find her way back into the centre of London society, it would not harm her to be thought of as kind-hearted and generous. She did not object to having a man of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s upright military bearing walking alongside her, and they had not gone three steps when another benefit to his company occurred to her.

How is Miss de Bourgh? She had formed quite a friendship with Mr Darcy’s cousin and was pleased that she had joined the party in London while she awaited her wedding to a young curate currently without a parish.

A little tired today, I’m afraid, Miss Bingley. But I shall tell her you asked after her, and that is sure to lift her spirits.

Oh, dear! I hope she does not want for company. Perhaps I will call there...

Ah, but you do not want to miss your lecture!

True... Caroline was conflicted. Now that the idea had occurred to her to call on poor Anne - for she was poor Anne whenever Caroline thought of her - she rather warmed to the idea. Anne was staying with Mr Darcy, and there was every likelihood that he would be at home.

Miss Bingley?

They had reached the end of the road, but instead of crossing it, Caroline had stopped, lost in thought. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s eyes were sparkling with merriment as they looked at her and she felt quite sure if he knew her better he would tease her for her distraction.

I think, now that you have told me of poor Anne, that I should better call there at once. Lectures may be attended at any time, but a friend always has a superior call on one’s time and attention. She smiled a dazzling smile at Colonel Fitzwilliam. I don’t suppose you would mind accompanying me to Mr Darcy’s house? I do not wish to detain you, of course.

Not at all, Miss Bingley. It is my home too, temporarily, and although I’ve just come from it I’m not averse to returning there almost immediately. His lips quirked into a smile. If you are sure you do not mind sacrificing your plans for the morning. The poor and needy, after all...

The poor are always with us, Caroline said, archly. My concern is now all for my friend, Colonel Fitzwilliam. She fixed him with a look she hoped might be stirring and, indeed, he said nothing more but bowed and steered them in the direction he had just come.

NO MATTER HOW WELCOMED he had been made to feel at Netherfield Park, there was nothing like being at home for real comfort. Of course, Fitzwilliam Darcy mused, to be truly at home I would need to be at Pemberley. But his London house was still just as comfortable and for once less solitary than usual. He had welcomed his cousins, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Anne de Bourgh, to join him for a stay in town and he was surprised at how their presence improved the place. Even now, as he worked through a course of letters regarding his Derbyshire estate from the comfort of his London study, he could hear Anne’s daily practice at Georgiana’s long-neglected piano, filling the formerly quiet house with music. He hummed along, signing his name with a flourish but stopped short when he recalled the last time he had heard this particular piece of music.

How fortunate for us both that our dance is ended, then. We shall not be forced to speak to one another any more, or ever again!

Those were the last words he had spoken to Elizabeth Bennet and they tasted bitter, now, however much he had relished the sharp dismissal when he had offered it. She had antagonised him. No, George Wickham had antagonised him. He had been there, his old friend, behind the scenes, steering things towards chaos, as he ever did. Darcy sighed, looking down at his letters, although in one brief moment he had lost all motivation for the task. He rifled through the pile, ensuring those of a most urgent nature had been attended to and laid the rest down to await some future hour. I have been shut up in here alone too long, he thought. That is why my mind is tormenting me. Well, I shall not allow it to distract me with things that cannot be changed now. He stood, gathering up the letters that were finished with and left the small study, making his way to the parlour where Anne sat still playing the piano. He was certain that a little music and some company would soon put him in a better attitude and, after disposing of his letters, he arranged his features into a smile so that his cousin would not think him melancholy.

It does me good to hear that piano played at last, he remarked, striving to keep his voice light as he entered the room.

It does me good to play it! Anne laughed, startled by his sudden arrival into fumbling a note and scrambling to keep her place. She rushed through the last few bars of the piece, finishing with a flourish and turned to face him. You do not mind, do you? Tell me truly if I am making myself too much at home.

Nonsense. This is your home, for as long as you require it. Darcy crossed the room to the fireplace and sank into his favourite chair, unsurprised when Anne forsook the piano stool and came to join him. Are you feeling better? She had been quiet at breakfast and requested to keep home today, and both Darcy and Richard had shared a look of concern.

Quite well! Anne smiled. I think it was just the excitement of our arrival, and the journey before it, coming upon me all at once. She perched contentedly in a chair and turned her face towards the fire, smiling at the dancing flames. I certainly do not mean to keep you at home guarding me, though. You must not let me stop you from doing anything you would usually do in town.

Darcy shrugged.