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Part 1

Posted on Wednesday, 18 September 2002, at 8:30 p.m.

Caroline woke up with such a headache, she didn't dare open her eyes or move. And she had a sneaking suspicion that she was hung over. She had been hung over once before, years ago at school, and this kind of felt like that. No, this seemed a little worse - no, a lot worse. She also felt there was something very important that she was supposed to remember, but her brain was still fuzzy and whatever that something was, it seemed to want to stay out of her mind for the moment.

Why had she had so much to drink, anyway? Although given how the last six months of her life had been a nightmare, she was sure she was entitled to drink! First her brother Charles leases an estate called Netherfield, hours away from town in Godforsaken Hertfordshire - without even consulting herself or their sister Louisa. Then he attaches himself to a country nobody until the only thing that the neighborhood can talk about is their imminent engagement. No, that wasn't fair, Caroline conceded, Jane Bennet really wasn't that bad - but her family was horrible! And the match would do nothing to enhance Caroline's position in society; and wasn't that the main thing to consider in choosing a marriage partner? Furthering one's position, and that of one's family, in society? She certainly would not be so thoughtless toward Charles!

To make matters worse, when she and Louisa had tried to point out the disparity of the match, Charles refused to listen to them - and his friend Mr. Darcy, who previously supported them, turned out to be no help either! Although he readily agreed that the match should be below Charles' consideration, he refused to join his voice to theirs when they tried to convince Charles that Jane was indifferent to him. Mr. Darcy claimed he had no right to divine what lay in another's heart. Poppycock! He had every right - Charles was his friend and trusted his judgement! Caroline knew Jane's sister, Miss Eliza Bennet, was behind Mr. Darcy's desertion - she had seen them having a little tête-à-tête after they danced at the ball in November. She didn't know what was said, but the conversation had been a long one, and after that Mr. Darcy had been very reluctant to voice any discouraging remarks concerning the Bennets or Hertfordshire.

They all left Netherfield for London in the days after the ball, but Charles returned to Hertfordshire alone within the week - to see if he could devine what was in another's heart. Caroline gladly stayed in town; she had intentions of her own, toward Mr. Darcy. Unfortunately he was being very uncooperative. The entire time of Charles' absence and until he returned for the holidays, Mr. Darcy had politely refused all invitations to dine that Louisa had sent him, and he was conspicuously absent whenever she and Louisa had called on his sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy. It was obvious to Caroline that he was avoiding her - making it even more difficult for her to find a way for him to fall in love with her, or at least to succumb to the logic that a match between the two of them would be mutually advantageous. In such a marriage, she would get the prestige of being the mistress of Pemberley, the impressive Darcy estate; and he would have the pleasure of showing the gem of London society off on his arm - she was Caroline Bingley after all! Would the man never see reason!

After the holidays, Charles was off to the country again; Caroline agreed to follow him into the wilderness in a few weeks time, but only if Charles would secure a promised from Mr. Darcy to escort her there - that would give her at least 4 hours alone with him in the carriage. That was the plan anyway. However the day they left for Netherfield was the one pleasant day of weather they had seen in a month. Instead of riding with her inside the carriage, Mr. Darcy chose to ride his horse along side it. Caroline was not pleased.

Charles greeted them at the door when they arrived and happily told them that he and Jane were officially engaged. Mr. Darcy offered his friend his sincere congratulations - and he actually meant it. Caroline grudgingly offered her congratulations as well. Well, it could be worse, she thought, at least Jane will be a fairly pliable sister-in-law; Louisa and I will have no trouble handling her. Charles then told them that they had all been invited to dinner at the Bennets - oh joy. Mr. Darcy was as thrilled as she - no, Mr. Darcy didn't seem to mind at all - hmmm, he would need watching - and that was something Caroline enjoyed doing, very much.

At Longbourn, the Bennet's estate, Mr. Darcy had no sooner helped Caroline out of the carriage, then she immediately took possession of his arm to be escorted in; she intended to keep her place there all night. The door to the house opened and an officer came out, he apparently was just leaving. Caroline felt Mr. Darcy stiffen as the man passed, giving them a slight bow of acknowledgement. He went by so quickly that Caroline hadn't seen his face; she learned later that it had been Mr. Wickham, a man that had wronged Mr. Darcy in one way or another in the past.

Besides the Netherfield party, the Bennets had also invited the Philips, the Lucases, and of course, a wide variety of officers. Caroline wondered why Mr. Wickham hadn't stayed. He had been a great favorite of Miss Eliza's, even after Caroline had warned her that she had heard he was no good. Caroline commented on this to Charles and was surprised to learn that Miss Eliza had given the rogue up some time ago (or more likely, thought Caroline, he gave her up). Charles said Jane had confided to him that Miss Eliza did not like Mr. Wickham and avoided him whenever possible. Maybe the chit had taken Caroline's advice after all.

Despite Caroline's best efforts to keep Mr. Darcy to herself that evening, Mrs. Bennet had had other plans; at dinner she seated him between her next two eligible daughters Miss Eliza and Mary Bennet. Caroline was stuck at the opposite end of the table between Sir William Lucas and an officer named Mr. Denny. Luckily the food was good because the conversation was not; Caroline managed to keep up her part of it merely by nodding and pretending to be interested and awed by the gentleman on her left, and by nodding and pretending to be impressed and amused by the gentleman on her right. After dinner, the men took forever to return to the ladies; Caroline was so tired of hearing Mrs. Bennet go on and on about her plans for the wedding and improvements to Netherfield that Jane would have to make, that she thought her head would explode. When the gentlemen finally arrived, she rose to join Mr. Darcy, but before she could reach him, Sir William called on her to honor them with a tune so loudly that she found no way to refuse. Mr. Denny joined her at the pianoforte to turn the pages for her. Those two had to be in league with Mrs Bennet! In the meantime, Mr. Darcy had made his way over to see what Miss Eliza was embroidering and complemented her on her work - hmm, he hadn't once complemented any of Caroline's embroidery during his stay at Netherfield last fall, and he had been in the same house as her for over a month! When Mary finally succeeded Caroline at the instrument, Mr. Denny claimed her for more of his mostly one-sided conversation for the rest of the evening. Things were definitely not looking good, but she still would have Mr. Darcy all to herself at Netherfield for a few days.

Or so she had thought. Two of the three days that Mr. Darcy stayed at Netherfield were spent entirely on helping Charles with estate business, the third was spent at the Bennets, a trip which Caroline had managed to escape by faking a headache (if she had gone to the Bennets, she wouldn't have had to fake a headache for they were sure to give her one). The few times she did see Mr. Darcy, usually at breakfast, she used to complement him on everything under the sun. Caroline spoke to him of her admiration for his character, his grooming, his management skills, his horse, his house, his sister and her many accomplishments; surely he could see that no one could admire him more than she? He thanked her politely for each complement, but none of them made the slightest impression on him. In the end it didn't matter: he was gone the morning of the fourth day, would be traveling to his aunt's in Kent in a matter of weeks, and wasn't expected back in Hertfordshire until May, when he would be groomsman for Charles and Jane's wedding. In the meantime, Caroline would be stuck in the country, forced to keep company with the Bennets.

Despite, or perhaps because of, her obligatory visits to the Bennets and the long line of well-wishers that called on her at Netherfield, Caroline soon found the lack of quality company frustrating. A glimmer of hope came when one of the local ladies, a Miss Mary King, came into an inheritance of 10,000 pounds - smaller than Caroline's of course, but quite substantial compared to her neighbors. Grooming Miss King for better society might have given Caroline something worthwhile to do while Charles was mooning over his betrothed. Unfortunately, like so many other foolish Hertfordshire girls, Miss King had a penchant for the officers quartered in the nearby town of Meryton - one officer in particular. With such low taste, Caroline gave up the idea of refining Miss King - it would be a waste of time. So she endured on her own as best she could.

Of course, propriety dictated that she had to attend the first public ball held after her brother's engagement was announced. All the local riffraff were there - even the reclusive Mr. Bennet attended. It took only minutes for his wife to start crowing over the success of their eldest in securing the hand of such a worthy suitor. Caroline knew it would be a long evening; her only comfort was that Miss Eliza had left town the previous day to visit a friend for a few weeks, and that saved Caroline the trouble of being civil to someone she despised, or at least despised more than most.

As usually, the locals were oooing and ahhhing over Caroline's gown, jewelry, fan, and lace - you'd think they had never seen anyone of quality before, but Caroline reminded herself, they probably hadn't. One of the officers, Mr. Wickham of all people, approached her for a dance. Caroline remembered that Mr. Wickham had done a disservice to Mr. Darcy in the past, although she had no idea what the incident involved - she knew the man was not to be trusted. She tried to deflect the offer.

"Wouldn't you rather be dancing with Miss King? I believe the two of you have become quite close lately, Mr. Wickham," she said.

"Miss King is a charming young lady, Miss Bingley," he replied, "but she is not half the woman you are."

"You mean her worth is only half as much as mine, don't you Mr. Wickham?" Caroline quipped.

The man didn't even take offence at her implication that he was a fortune hunter, he merely gave a slight nod of assent. The fact that she knew what he was about didn't seem to bother him in the least. He repeated his request for the dance and Caroline saw no polite way to refuse him.

They hadn't progressed very far in the dance, when, with a significant glance to Miss King, Mr. Wickham said, "You must be anxious to get back to London and you own pursuits, Miss Bingley." Caroline guessed what he was implying, but chose to ignore his meaning.

"It is no secret that I prefer London to Meryton, Mr. Wickham. There is so much more to do there."

"And more people to see."

"Of course."

"I understand you spend a great deal of time with Mr. Darcy."

"He and my brother are very close," she said cautiously.

"I should imagine that you would wish to be more closely acquainted with him yourself."

Caroline colored, "We know each other well enough."

"Darcy is a fool if he doesn't grab you while he has the chance."

"Pardon me?" Caroline couldn't believe the man's brass; she must have heard him wrong.

"Darcy - he never could see a good thing, even if it kicked him in the face."

"You were the son of his steward, were you not?" Caroline asked, attempting to put him in his place.

"Yes, and the elder Mr. Darcy was my godfather. A wonderful man, treated me like a son," countered Mr. Wickham, refusing to be put down. As Caroline made no answer, he continued. "But as I was saying, my former friend often overlooked the obvious. When we were growing up he could have had the best of everything, but he never used it to his advantage, never went out of his way to get more than what his father thought to give him. At school if he had the chance for a little harmless fun, he'd avoid it like the plague - afraid it might be beneath his dignity or soil his reputation. Apparently his hesitancy has continued into his majority; from what I have heard, he has been wasting some valuable time."

"Oh, what have you heard?" Caroline asked suspiciously.

"Nothing infamous, only that although you and Mr. Darcy were constantly together last fall, he never went that extra step to secure your affections. He's taking a good thing for granted if you ask me. As I said, the man is a fool."

Personally Caroline agreed with him, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Mr. Darcy is a very dear friend of my family, Mr. Wickham. I would appreciate you not calling him a fool," she said indignantly.

"In deference to you, Miss Bingley, I will stop calling him a fool. However, that will not change the fact that he is one."

A most displeased Caroline glared at him. They remained silent for the rest of the dance and she had time to assess this steward's son first hand. He was a handsome man to be sure, and he carried himself well, but he had the air of one who was used to being in the company of their betters and thought that they had every right to be there - a trait that reminded her irritatingly of Miss Eliza.

At the end of the set he escorted her off the floor, thanked her for the dance, and kissed her hand. She blushed and was taken aback once more by the forwardness of the man. Her anger grew as she heard the nearby giggling of the younger Bennet sisters, Kitty and Lydia. They were pointing and looking in her direction - the kiss had been a great joke to them - they completely failed to see the impropriety of it! Was she never to escape these Bennets! Caroline fumed over it for the remainder of the evening, while Mr. Wickham found great diversion in catching her eye and giving her an impudent little bow, with a knowing grin on his face.

The next afternoon, Caroline was surprised by a call from Mr. Wickham. He thanked her again for the honor of the dance, then he presented her with her own fan, which had gone missing at the Assembly Hall. Mr. Wickham just happened to find it after her party had left the ball. He also apologized about upsetting her the previous evening. He had meant no harm, he said, and was sorry for any insult he may have made to her or her dear family friend.

Since he was being nice about returning her fan, Caroline decided it wouldn't hurt to be cordial to him, but only as circumstances allowed, so she offered him some refreshment. He politely refused, saying it wouldn't be proper with Mr. Bingley not at home (he was at Longbourn, as usual). Mr. Wickham stayed only a few minutes, but didn't miss the opportunity to kiss her hand as he said good bye. Surprisingly, Caroline didn't mind it as much as she had before, actually she kind of liked it; she just thought it would have been so much better if it had come from someone else - but all she had ever gotten out of Mr. Darcy was a formal bow.

A week or two later, Caroline accompanied Charles to Longbourn to make plans with Mrs. Bennet and Jane about a trip to town to buy wedding clothes. In a few weeks Miss Eliza would be returning from her friends and would be staying a few days with her aunt and uncle. The Bennets were planning to meet her there and had offered to take Caroline back to her sister's home in London at the same time. Caroline would then get to meet the Bennet's illustrious Cheapside relations, the Gardiners - she couldn't wait.

They were still discussing the best warehouses over tea when Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham, came calling. After tea, Mrs. Bennet on one pretense or another, shooed everyone out of the house to get some air. They hadn't been in the garden five minutes when Lydia, in a fit of giggles, slipped off a swing and muddied her gown. Between roars of laughter she excused herself and went into the house to change. In her absence, Mr. Wickham asked Caroline if she'd like to take a turn with him. She didn't see the harm in it, so she accepted; as she left her brother and Jane, she noted that Charles had a rare look of concern on his face - was he trying to be brotherly?

"I was hoping I'd get a moment alone with you," Mr. Wickham said in a low voice as they walked to the far end of the garden.

"Oh?"

"This is usually the time of year that Mr. Darcy visits his aunt, Lady Catherine De Bough."

"And this concerns me how?"

"I just meant to warn you. This may be the year that he chooses to make an announcement that might disturb you - that he is engaged to his cousin, Miss Anne De Bough. They have been promised to each other for years."

"Really?" Caroline said skeptical, "Charles has never mentioned it."

"It is not generally known; the match was arranged by their parents ages ago." He took one of her hands in his and looked into her eyes. His voice took on a serious note. "If news were to come of his engagement, I didn't want you to be caught unaware. I know how it is to have ... expectations ... in a certain direction, only to be disappointed when they failed to be met. I hoped to save you that pain."

Caroline was disturbed by this information, but not so much that she would let this gentleman know it - besides, as Mr. Wickham could not be trusted, she did not have to give immediate credit to anything he said. She pulled her hand away.

"As I asked before, Mr. Wickham, how does this concern me?"

"It concerns you, Miss Bingley," he said sarcastically, "because Mr. Darcy is such a dear family friend. And as I thought your interest might lie in his direction, I thought you might appreciate the information; I thought it might save you wasting anymore of your time on that fool. "

She was not wasting her time on Mr. Darcy, she was investing it toward a worthwhile goal. And did he just imply that she was a mere fortune hunter like himself? How dare he!

"How peculiar it is, Mr. Wickham, that not so long ago you were berating Mr. Darcy for not attaching himself to me. Now you are cautioning me because you say he is to become attached to another, has in fact been attached for some time. How do you explain your contrary statements?"

"There is nothing contrary about anything that I have said," he replied indignantly, pulling himself even taller. "In fact, as Darcy prides himself on his honor, Miss De Bourgh is probably the reason that he could never bring himself to show you the attention you deserve, but that doesn't make him any less of a fool for not doing so. Lady Catherine is a formidable woman, the family matriarch - there are not many who would dare to go against her wishes. If she wishes Darcy to marry her daughter, I am fairly confident that he eventually will marry her daughter. If I am telling what you don't want to hear, I am sorry."

Of course she didn't want to hear it, who would? And what was he getting so testy about? Well, this was not the time or place to think about it, not in front of the Bennets. Better to humor the man now, Caroline thought, then get the facts from Charles later.

"Truce, Mr. Wickham," she said in a placating tone. "I assure you, Mr. Darcy is just a family friend - but I thank you for your warning, I will take it to heart, now be easy."

The anger she had seen in him a moment before vanished, and was replaced by his more satirical self.

"I have faith that nothing concerning Darcy is likely to make it into your heart, Miss Bingley - but if you keep my words in mind, you may have no cause to regret it." Lydia returned to him then, and he bowed a fair well to Caroline as he was led away.

Charles and Caroline were both rather quiet in the carriage on the way home. After a time Charles asked, "Caroline, did Mr. Wickham say anything to upset you?"

"No, not upset really, but he did say something that surprised me. He said that Mr. Darcy was engaged to his cousin Miss De Bourgh. Is it true?"

Charles looked relieved, and even blushed a little. "Oh, is that all. I thought he might be getting forward with you, and you know, a brother has to look out for his sisters." He sat back as if the thought that had been weighing on his mind had just been lifted off. Good, now he wouldn't have to get unpleasant - Charles hated being unpleasant. "No, Darcy's not engaged, not seriously anyway - but his aunt kind of thinks he is."

Caroline just looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Charles explained. "You see, at some time or other when Darcy and his cousin Anne were growing up, Darcy's mother must have said to Lady Catherine something like 'Wouldn't it be nice if our two children ended up getting married someday?' Well, Darcy's aunt took that as a marriage contract and has been bugging Darcy about it ever since he came of age. So to answer your question, there's nothing to it, Darcy is still a free man."

Now it was Caroline's turn to be relieved; which made Charles tense up again because he knew he would have to say something unpleasant after all.

"Caroline, I love you and I don't want to see you hurt, but I have to tell you, you and Darcy don't suit. We've talked; he respects you, even likes your sense of humor - most of the time - but that's as far as it goes. I know you've had your hopes on him for a while now, but nothing will ever come of it. You're only setting yourself up for a let down."

"You're wrong, Charles. We suit perfectly. London society would applaud the match."

"You are completely different, like a butterfly and a bee! You like to see and be seen; Darcy would rather not be seen at all, if he can help it. He's happy to just be off doing whatever it is that Darcy does. You love to be right in the thick of things during the London Season, and Darcy would rather be miles away. You would drive each other crazy."

"I'd be willing to take that chance." Besides, she thought, Pemberley is a big enough place, if we don't suit, we could probably avoid each other for months.

"Be honest, Caroline. If Darcy had no estate and only, say 4000 a year, would you be interested in him?"

"Of course not. What would be the point?"

"The point is, you have no business chasing after a man if all you care about is what he has, not who he is."

"What's the difference?"

"Oh, never mind. You'll understand someday when you fall in love."

Not likely, Caroline thought, rolling her eyes. Charles was so naive. Love had to be the most over used word in the English language. No woman she knew had ever married for love. Oh, they all said they were in love, madly in love in fact, but they never really were; they were just jockeying for a better position. If she could believe Charles and Jane, they would be the first people of Caroline's acquaintance that were truly in love. They could both be penniless and they would still find a way to marry. Thank goodness Caroline was above all that nonsense.

"By the way, you should probably avoid that Wickham fellow," Charles said, in his most fatherly tone. "I haven't heard anything against him in the Meryton area, but I know he did Darcy a tremendous wrong, and I'll not have him imposing on you." Going back to his normal speaking voice he added, "I should probably warn Jane's sisters off him as well - I'll have to remember that. Anyway, if that blighter so much as looks at you like, you know...you let me know and I'll give him a proper set down."

"Oh yes, Charles, I will," Caroline promised her younger brother in her most serious and sincere voice, then smiled affectionately at him when he wasn't looking. Charles would never trust Mr. Wickham because Mr. Darcy did not trust Mr. Wickham. Caroline had to admit that she didn't trust him either - and never would - but she was confident that she could handle him; she had been dealing with his type in London for years.

Caroline was surprise the following afternoon when Mr. Wickham was led into the drawing room. She put down her needlework as she stood to greet him.

"Mr. Wickham, to what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked formally.

"Miss Bingley," he said as he bowed, "I find I need to once again apologize for my abominable behavior. It was very presumptuous of me to speak to you as I did yesterday."

"Think nothing of it, sir. No harm was done."

"But I still wish to make amends. I am going to town for a few days, and would be happy to fetch anything back that you may wish. Perhaps a viscount or a baronette?" he said playfully.

"Thank you for your kind offer, but I am quite happy with the gentlemen I have at the moment," she answered in kind. Then added, "Besides, I will be leaving for town myself in a few weeks. Anything I may want will keep until then."

"Leaving Meryton so soon?"

"Just for a few weeks; I will be returning for my brother's wedding. After that, who knows - I haven't really decided whether I prefer to live here with Charles and Jane or with my sister and her husband in London."

"You could always run away with me," he suggested innocently.

"Only if I'd lost my senses."

"You are too cruel, Miss Bingley!"

"So I've been told," she laughed. "But if your offer is still good, I may impose on you after all - I have just finished a letter to my sister, Mrs. Hurst. If you wouldn't mind taking it, I'm sure you would be speedier than the post. Would Grosvenor Street be out of your way?"

"Not at all, my travels will take me within a few blocks. I would be happy to deliver your letter for you."

"Thank you. Excuse me while I get it." She left the room to retrieve the letter. When she returned, Mr. Wickham was standing by the window, inspecting her needlework in the sunlight.

"Superior stitching, Miss Bingley, and your selection of autumn colors - excellent."

She blushed slightly at the complement, thanked him, then handed him the letter, saying, "The direction is on the front, if you should have trouble finding the house."

As he took it from her, he held her hand and looked deeply into her brown eyes with his dark blue ones. Very pretty eyes, she thought, a pity they belong to him..

"You can depend on me, madam," he said, then bowed and kissed her hand again. It was a much longer kiss this time, and he stoked her hand gently with his thumb all the while. The sensations caused by that simple act startled her so much that he was gone before she could recover herself.

He is a smooth one, she thought as she stood looking where he had been; unconsciously rubbing the hand he had touched with her other. A very smooth one.

Mr. Wickham apparently was true to his word, for a response from Louisa arrived for Caroline a few days later. Louisa said that Mr. Darcy was expected back in town shortly and that Georgiana had accepted an invitation for them both to dine with the Hursts on the evening after Caroline returned. Charles most likely would be dining with Jane's family, so they wouldn't have to deal with any unwelcome Bennets. Finally, thought Caroline, We can get back to the business of wooing Mr. Darcy! In closing, her sister mentioned that the officer who had delivered the letter had been as charming as a snake. Yes, Caroline mused, that's Mr. Wickham.

Some days later, Caroline was on a rare walk with Jane when she saw Mr. Wickham in Meryton. He was talking with two other officers in front of a shop on the other side of the street. He caught her eye and smiled a welcome at her, but a wagon went by an instant later and blocked her view of him. By the time it had passed he was out of sight. She shrugged and followed Jane into a milliner's shop.

Jane needed to talk to the clerk about an order so Caroline browsed through some fabrics near the window. As she did, she noticed Mr. Wickham outside motioning to her. Jane was still involved in a discussion with the clerk about delivery dates for various items her mother had ordered, so Caroline was able to slip out unnoticed.

"Welcome back, Mr. Wickham," she greeted him. "I would like to thank you again for taking my letter to Louisa. "

"My pleasure, I assure you," he said with a nod of his head.

"How was your trip?"

"Very productive, Miss Bingley," he smiled like he was up to no good. "I have something for you."

"For me? Which? A viscount or a baronette?"

"Neither, but probably something more useful", he looked up and down the street. "Just around there, if you please," he indicated the end of the building with a nod, then led her around the corner. They stood just inside a narrow alley that ran between two shops. It wasn't really secluded since they could be seen by anyone passing on the street, but it did give them the illusion of privacy. He handed Caroline a package about the size of her opened hand.

"I can't accept this, Mr. Wickham," she said, attempting to give it back.

"You don't even know what it is," he said.

"It doesn't matter, I can't accept a gift from you."

"Caroline, just look at it."

"It's Miss Bingley," she said absently as she unwrapped the package. It was a comb for her hair, the pattern on it matched that on the fan that he had returned to her. "This matches that fan ..."

"I know. I saw it in a shop in town and had to get it for you."

"Well, I still can't accept it," she said, while putting the comb in her hair. "How does it look?"

"Perfect. Like it was made for you."

"Good." She took it out of her hair and wrapped it up again, but made no move to return it.

"Thank you. I'll have Charles reimburse you for it."

"Caroline! You'll do no such thing," he scolded.

"Don't call me that!" she said rather noncommittally. As she glanced at him, she saw he was getting annoyed with her. She decided it couldn't hurt to accept his little gift, better that than have the man in a tiff. Besides, it was a lovely comb. "Alright - I'll keep it, but don't be getting the wrong idea. This is just a token of our friendship."

"Of course, madam, a token of our growing friendship," he said significantly.

"Don't push it, if my brother ever found out..."

"He'd what?"

"He'd give you a proper set down." Caroline quoted. Mr. Wickham laughed as she continued, "And he would make me return it, and neither of us wants that. Now, I'd better get back to Jane." She looked away in the direction of the millinery shop, but at the same time held her hand out towards him, expecting him to kiss it as he had before. Instead, taking her hand, he used it to pull her towards him, then he planted a kiss on her cheek, catching her completely by surprise.

"Mr. Wickham!" she gasped, covering her cheek with her hand and blushing to her toes.

"Would I get a set down for that as well?" he grinned, then ran down the alley. Before he turned the corner, he bowed deeply, then with an, "Adieu, Caroline!" he was gone.

That presumptuous little...if only... Caroline couldn't bring herself to finish the thought.

Charles was starting to get on Caroline's nerves. One day, about a week and a half before they were to leave for London, the Bennets hosted another dinner party. Even though they weren't expected to arrive until 6:00, Charles insisted that they be ready to leave by 2:00. Caroline found she was looking forward to an evening at the Bennets for once as she hoped to see Mr. Wickham there - then she thought with disgust that she was getting to be as bad as those silly Bennet girls - thinking of officers, indeed. Really - too much was too much! She needed to get back to the standards she had held for herself in London, and act accordingly. But being a dutiful sister, she was ready and looking her best well before Charles wanted to leave.

On the way to Longbourn they came upon Jane, Kitty, and Lydia Bennet walking to Meryton. Charles got out of the carriage to accompany them on their walk. Caroline joined them as she had no wish to arrive alone, to be entertained by Mrs. Bennet and Mary; she shuddered at the thought. The carriage was sent ahead to Longbourn. When the younger girls caught sight of Captain Carter on the edge of town, they giggled and ran off to join him. The other three continued on at a slower pace.

"Oh Charles, I have the happiest news!" said Jane, after the girls had gone. "Father received an express this morning from Mr. Darcy."

"Mr. Darcy?" the Bingleys said in unison.

"Yes, asking for Lizzy's hand in marriage. We all thought it was a joke at first, but Lizzy had enclosed a note to Father assuring him that they were both in love and were quite serious about it. Mother was so excited she took to her bed - she's better now, the dinner is still on for this afternoon. Caroline, are you ill?"

Caroline had gone white, and had trouble remembering how to stand. Charles supported her to a nearby fence, where she leaned heavily against it. Miss Eliza and Mr. Darcy, her Mr. Darcy, she thought, marrying that country chit (no offence, Jane). This was not to be borne; she had never seen it coming.

"Caroline, are you alright?" Charles asked, even though he knew what was wrong; he had seen it coming - not Miss Elizabeth, he hadn't seen that at all - but someone someday, just like he had warned her it would. Hey, he thought, Darcy and I will be brothers after all! How ironic! Poor Caroline. Oh yes, Caroline. "Caroline?" he asked again. She just shook her head.

Jane and Charles looked up at the approach of a small carriage, it stopped near them and an officer leaped out. "Are you well, Miss Bingley? May I be of some assistance, sir?" asked Mr. Wickham.

"Hello Wickham. My sister will be fine," he said uncertainly, "Just a bit under the weather."

"I have this chaise signed out to run a few errands. Would you like to borrow it to see Miss Bingley home? Or I can take her if you prefer, sir. I 'm going by Netherfield, anyway; I would be happy to give Miss Bingley a lift. That is, with your approval," Mr. Wickham said deferentially.

"Well, I don't know..." began Mr. Bingley.

Caroline looked up for the first time and pieced together what the men were talking about. Of course she wanted to go home, she would die if she had to go to the Bennet's dinner under these circumstances. Mrs. Bennet would have that happy cat-that-swallowed-the-canary look on her face and be smug to her all evening. The girls' giggling would drive her up the wall. Caroline had to get home, as quickly as possible.

"I would appreciate the ride very much, Mr. Wickham. Thank you," she said, moving toward the chaise.

"Maybe I should take you home, Caroline," said Charles, eying Wickham suspiciously. He hesitated, as he thought of having to leave Jane in town, but the chaise would be a bit tight for three.

"No, stay with Jane, Charles. I will be fine with a bit of rest. You two go along and have a lovely evening. I'll see you in the morning," said Caroline as Mr. Wickham assisted her into the chaise.

"Caroline," Bingley said, "are you sure you will be alright? I don't mind escorting you home myself..."

"I don't mind if you want Charles with you, Caroline," Jane added.

"Nonsense. You two run along or Mrs. Bennet will be worried. Mr. Wickham will drop me off at home. I'll rest, have a light supper, and go to bed early. I'm sure I will be better by breakfast, Charles. Don't worry about me, now off with you," Caroline insisted. Jane gave Charles a reassuring squeeze on his arm as he reluctantly bid his sister good bye.

"I assume you heard the happy news," Wickham said drolly after they got under way.

"Yes, but how did you know already? The Bennet's just got the express this morning."

"Mrs. Bennet sent a note through her maid to her sister Mrs. Philips. You know Mrs. Philips - the whole town has known for about an hour now. How are you doing - really?"

"I'll live, if I can make it past the humiliation. Miss Eliza! How could he? He is such a simpleton! An idiot!"

"A fool."

They hadn't gone far when he turned the chaise onto a side path off the road. Caroline was alarmed, this wasn't the way to Netherfield.

"I thought you were taking me home?"

"What, afraid I'll run off with you, Caroline?"

"I asked you not to call me that," she said in her most put-out voice.

"Come now, Caroline, we know each other, I mean really know each other, too well to stand on formality. And we both know I couldn't make off with you unless you'd taken leave of your senses. You're too clever for me." He smiled his most charming smile, the one he knew Caroline knew was for show, and she relaxed a bit. She was safe - he knew he would have a hard time getting anything past her.

"So, why the side trip?" she asked.

"Well, truth be told, Miss Bingley, after I heard the news, I thought you could use an understanding shoulder to cry on, some time away from gossiping servants, and maybe just a little cheering up. It all spelled picnic to me - for a start."

"For a start?" she echoed.

"Yes. I have three surprises in store for you."

"Three? I'm all astonishment."

"As well you should be. Number one: this basket here," he kicked a basket by his feet, "contains all the culinary delicacies that a poor man's wages can buy, and I've been told the view from Oakham Mount is breathtaking, especially at sunset."

"Sunset? Rather a long picnic, don't you think?"

"Only four or five hours. Plenty of time to tell each other our tales of woe. Besides, it's a beautiful day for this time of year - it would be a shame to waste it."

"Won't it be rather dark after sunset to be getting back down such a ... rustic ... path?"

"Not too dark. There's a more open path we'll be taking down, and there will be a full moon. Besides, the horses know the way well enough."

"This is not their first picnic with you, I take it."

For an answer, he laughed. She loved that laugh - it was a pity it belonged to him.

The view from the top of from Oakham Mount was spectacular. The farms, woods, and hamlets could be seen for miles. The distant places grayed until they blended into the clouds on the horizon. Unfortunately, the quality of the food fell far short of Mr. Wickham's promises, so Caroline didn't eat much of it. The bread was hard, the meat was a bit too salty; the most appetizing item was the dried fruit, which was sprinkled with cinnamon. Caroline was impressed, however, when he brought out a bottle of Champaign. He whispered that he still had some connections.

As the shadows grew and the contents of the bottle disappeared, he talked about growing up in Derbyshire, she about her childhood in the north. He told her of the trouble he occasionally found himself in when he first moved to London; she shared how awful her last year of school had been, her first without Louisa since their mother had died. What made it worse, she said, was that she knew Charles was going through the same thing at his school far away.

"I'd never been so lonely in my life," she finished with a sniff.

"Well, those days are over now."

"No, I'm right back there again, because whether I live with Charles or Louisa, I'll still be the odd one out. It wasn't so bad when both Charles and I were with Louisa, but now it will be only me. I'm all alone again. " Her sniffs became more frequent and louder, and as Mr. Wickham had said he would, he provided her with a shoulder to cry on. He held her close and patted her head.

"There, there - You can always marry," he suggested.

"I had planned to!" she sobbed, then the dam broke. Mr. Wickham's handkerchief was no match for her tears. Eventually he gave up and let her use his whole coat. After a few minutes she got control of herself, and she could speak again.

"Now she and her fine eyes have him. What's wrong with my eyes, anyway?"

"Not a thing, you have beautiful eyes."

"But they're not fine," she whined.

"They are better than fine. They are a sweet honey brown color, and anyone with sense prefers sweet eyes over fine eyes."

"He didn't."

"He's a fool. And you know, Darcy's not the only fish in the sea."

Between subsiding sniffs she said, "No, but he was the biggest - and everyone knew I was out to net him. Now that he's got away, I'm bound to be the laughingstock of London."

"Don't worry, society has a short memory and a shorter attention span. This will be old news in a fortnight."

"I can tell you've never been in the power room at the opera!" He innocently raised his eyebrows, giving Caroline the impression that maybe he had. "Anyway, my failure will keep those biddies amused for years." They were silent for awhile, aside from an occasional sniffle. Caroline seemed to be done with crying, or at least Mr. Wickham hoped so. After he had dried the last of her tears with a picnic napkin she said, almost matter-of-factly, "You know, she didn't even like him."

"She didn't?"

"Nooo! When she and her sister stayed with us at Netherfield, she and Mr. Darcy were always at odds. She was barely civil to him."

"Apparently her opinion of him changed, I suspect after your ball in November."

"Yes - they danced together, then disappeared for a while afterward. I found them talking very seriously in the library some time later. But he left the neighborhood with us right after the ball."

"Not without swaying Miss Bennet. We had been friends before that night, or I'd like to think so. Afterward she treated me differently; she was polite, but distant, like she didn't trust me anymore."

"What's not to trust?" Caroline said sarcastically. Apparently her humor was back. She laughed, and poured herself more Champaign.

"Don't you trust me, madam?" he asked, drawing closer.

"Not for a minute, Mr. Wickham, and I suspect you are trying to get me drunk."

"No," he pulled back a bit, "merely getting us in the proper mood for Surprise Number Two. One has to imbibe a liberal amount of spirits to get the most enjoyment out of it. Wait, I'll get it."

He went to the chaise and pulled a box out from under the seat. He carried it over and set it before her; it looked heavy. He removed the lid to reveal a stack of plates, exact matches for those they had just picnicked on.

"I pinched them from the officer's mess," he said proudly.

"Plates, how nice, but aren't two enough?"

"They aren't for eating off. Come on, I'll show you."

He took the box and she followed him through some brush a short distance until they reached a shallow ravine with a large boulder facing them on the opposite side. Broken crockery was scattered all over the far side, but mainly below the boulder.

"Apparently I'm not the first one you've brought here, either," she said. Caroline was surprised to hear a hint of jealousy in her own voice.

"Well, you are the first lady I've ever brought here. Denny and Carter have come up with me a few times. We take turns flinging the plates for each other to shoot."

"And you want me to shoot these?"

"No, just fling - watch." He picked up the top plate and threw it against the boulder. It shattered, and the broken pieces joined the others on the ground.

"And what is supposed to be so great about this?"

"You think about something - or perhaps someone - that you don't like, then fling the plate. I assure you, it's quite satisfying. Try it."

Caroline looked at him skeptically, but picked up a plate, pictured Miss Eliza on the boulder and flung the plate. It fell short, landed on the ground, and only broke in two pieces.

"Ohhhh, pooh! I missed!"

"Here, let me show you." He gave her another plate, stood behind her and, holding her close, guided her through the motions of proper plate flinging. Of course, being in such close proximity to each other, neither of them was able to give proper attention to flinging the plate. The plate hit the bottom of the boulder and smashed, but not as spectacularly as Mr. Wickham had hoped it would.

"Blast!" he muttered, then grabbed another plate. This time he actually concentrated on showing Caroline how to fling it, and they were both rewarded with a satisfying plate shattering experience.

"That's better, now try it again," he commanded. She did, this time picturing Mr. Darcy dancing with Miss Eliza; the plate hit the boulder right where the lady's neck would have been.

"I did it! I did it!" she shouted happily. "Let me try it again!"

And she did. Between them they shattered the whole box. Caroline got to be quite proficient at plate flinging, especially when picturing Miss Eliza. Mr. Wickham was proud of her, and told her so as they returned to their picnic blanket.

"Thank you, Mr. Wickham, I did enjoy that."

"You may call me George if you like, Caroline."

"I never said you could call me Caroline, Mr. Wickham."

"You don't seem to mind it too much." He opened another bottle of Champaign. She held out her glass for him to fill.

"I guess I don't. So, what's the third surprise?"

"We have to wait for that one."

"Can you give me a hint?"

"It's red."

"Your coat!"

"No, it's not my coat."

"Are you sure it's not orange? Orange is my favorite color."

"I know."

"You know my favorite color?"

"Yes, I know everything about you, or at least everything I need to know. And you know everything about me."

"I do?" She didn't know his favorite color. Maybe it was red, like his coat. Caroline could like red, it was very close to orange.

"Yes, I'm a lot like you - we think alike, have similar backgrounds, tastes and values. And...neither of us is afraid of taking a few risks for what we want."

"I wanted Mr. Darcy," she pouted, then finished her drink.

"You wanted his position and his estate - you didn't want him. And if you had gotten him, you'd have made each other miserable."

"Now you sound like Charles."

"Good. I like Charles, and we have a common interest. I hope to know him better some day."

"What happened between you and Mr. Darcy?"

"His father promised me something before he died that Darcy didn't care to give. When I attempted to get it by another means, he took that away from me, too."

"That doesn't sound like Mr. Darcy."

"Doesn't it? He took your attentions for granted, then engaged himself to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Anyway, it doesn't matter - I expect to come into quite a bit of money soon," he said, refilling her glass.

"Really? I hope so, then I can like you."

"Oh?" he smiled. He was amused, not offended. "Don't you like me now?"

"Oh yes. But I can't take your attentions seriously until then."

"And why not?"

"You are the son of a steward," she said, as if that explained it all.

"Madam, I was raise as a gentleman."

"George," she laughed, "I have yet to see it."

As if to prove her point, he moved behind her and lightly kissed her neck. This is shocking behavior, Caroline, she told herself, do not allow it! But she liked the tingling sensation it sent through her body, so she tilted her head to expose more to him. So much for mistrust. She let him nuzzle as he pleased between her shoulder, neck, and back, and was extremely disappointed when he stopped.

"There Caroline, look!" He moved out from behind her and pointed to the setting sun.

The sky was alive with color. Long blue clouds with bright edges rippled above the countryside on a sea of varying shades of purple and pink. Lower on the horizon, a fiery orange surrounded the sun. They watched in silence as the sun slowly disappeared, leaving an odd but brilliant shade of orangish pink in its place.

"Oooo," said Caroline, "I've got to have a gown of that color made!"

The clouds darkened as deep oranges and pinks gave way to vivid shades of red.

"Number three," she whispered, "it's beautiful." He didn't say anything; he just leaned toward her and kissed her on the lips, gently at first, then harder as she started kissing back.

Now, that was where things started to get very confusing and harder to remember. Caroline enjoyed kissing Mr. Wickham, she remembered that part very well. They talked more, between kissing of course, but after that first kiss, she didn't really recall too much more of their conversation. She said something about wanting them to go on like that forever, and he asked her if she meant it, which of course she did. No one had ever kissed her before, not like that, and it felt so, how could she describe it? Delicious? Yes, that was a good word for it, delicious, so why wouldn't she want it to go on forever? He said something about being able to arrange it, or had he arranged it? Anyway, she didn't see him arranging anything - he seemed to be more interested in rearranging things, namely her hair, her clothes, her composure. He asked her something else, but she wasn't really paying attention to what he said, whatever it was, she agreed - she would agree to anything to get him to stop talking and go back to rearranging. Things were moving awfully quickly for her. Luckily the Champaign seemed to slow things down a great deal, so she didn't really mind the speed at which their relationship was progressing. Actually, she was enjoying every minute of it.

Mr. Wickham unfortunately, eventually stopped his attentions and said it was time to go. She was a little dizzy, whether more from the Champaign or Mr. Wickham, she couldn't tell. He helped her to the chaise, saying something about a happy future, then stowed the picnic things under the seat, and started the horses down the hill by way of a different path. Caroline didn't know where it led; she fell asleep on his shoulder in minutes, still nodding to whatever happy thing he was babbling on about.

He woke her in what seemed a short time later, and she found they weren't at Netherfield at all, but at the house of some very confused friends of his. At least, she thought they were friends of his, she was very sleepy and - alright, she admitted - tipsy, so she wasn't quite sure why they were there or what was going on. The woman talked about orphans and poor dears, and the man talked about banned licenses or some such nonsense - probably politics, Caroline hated politics - and he asked some silly questions that Mr. Wickham had to explain to her so she could answer the man. Mr. Wickham was very good at explaining things to her so she understood them, which was very good because she couldn't make heads or tails out of what his friend was saying.

Then Mr. Wickham whispered "Number Three" to her, and put a ring on her finger. It was a very pretty ruby ring. And he gave her a pen, too, and let her sign her name. It was nice pen, very fluffy. They got back in the chaise and he kissed her, such a long, loving kiss - the best one he had given her yet. Then he tucked a blanket around her and told her to snuggle up next to him to keep warm. As they drove off, he told her how wonderful and sweet and good she was - no one ever told her how sweet and good she was before. He was being very nice to her, she would have to tell Charles how nice Mr. Wickham really was, not a thing like that stupid, idiotic, chit-loving Mr. Darcy said he was.

She vaguely remembered the chaise stopping, being carried upstairs, talking a little as she was made ready for bed, but to whom and about what, she had no idea. She did remember the dream, though. It was the best dream she had ever had, even if Mr. Wickham was in it. She blushed a little remembering how naughty it was. She was kissing Mr. Wickham like he had kissed her in the chaise, and their kisses went on forever. Then he nuzzled her neck like he had before, only this time he didn't stop at her shoulders, he kept going. It sent shivers all over her, and she laughed and nuzzled him back. And they did other things too, things her married sister had told her about. She blushed again, it was a very naughty ... lovely ... delicious dream. She smiled at the memory of it, and let out a little sigh.

"Good morning, beautiful!" she heard a familiar voice say. She opened her eyes in shock, turned her head toward the sound, and looked at the handsome, smiling face of the naked man laying next to her in the bed. "Or should I say, Mrs. Wickham?"

Part 2a

Posted on Sunday, 22 September 2002, at 2:27 p.m.

Surprises. Caroline was getting sick of surprises. In the last quarter of a second she had had three: the first was finding a naked Mr. Wickham in her bed; the second, she discovered as she screamed, grabbed the blankets up to her neck and shrunk as far away from him as the bed allowed, was that under those blankets she was also naked; the third was realizing it wasn't her bed at all, or her bedchamber, or even her brother's house! No, surprises were getting old very, very fast.

"Something wrong, luv?" asked Mr. Wickham with an amused grin on his face.

"Get out!" She would have added of my room, but she knew he would just make some smart remark about it not being her room, so she didn't.

"That's no way to treat your husband - especially after such a memorable wedding night."

"I don't know a thing about it," she lied.

"Beg to differ with you, luv, but given that contented little sigh I just heard, I'm betting you do."

"Stop calling me that! And if anything did happen - which I doubt - it was because you got me drunk and took advantage of me!"

"Got you drunk - yes, took advantage of you - no. I did tend to be over generous when pouring the Champaign, it helped reduce your concerns about my lack of fortune - I believe that was your only objection to my suit. As for taking advantage of you, we weren't so far gone that you didn't know perfectly well what was going on, in fact you were a very willing participant."

"You tricked me!"

She averted her eyes as he sat up and began to dress.

"Caroline, we both know that I couldn't trick you if you didn't want to be tricked - drunk or sober. You are much too clever for me." He meant it, there was no sarcasm in his voice - in fact, there had been no sarcasm in his voice since they had been speaking, which was very unusual for him. It seemed ironic that this was the most honest he had ever been with her. Well, she thought, if he wants honesty...

"Charles is going to kill you."

"I'm sure he will want to - at first - but by the time he finds us, he will have discovered that we were properly married last night. He will be so thankful that he's not obligated to defend your honor that he'll welcome me into the family."

"But I don't want to be married to you!" Actually, she didn't know what she wanted, her head hurt and it was still very unpleasant to think.

"That's not what you said last night - before and after the ceremony, I might add."

"I don't remember."

"Try hard, I'm sure it will all come back to you. There's some headache powder on the table, along with something stronger in that bottle, if you like. Your bag is there," he pointed to a small travel bag on a chair by the door, "I think it should have everything. If there is anything else you need, just ask Millie - Mrs. Younge - downstairs, she's our proprietor. I have to go out on business for a few hours, but I'll have Millie send up a tray with your breakfast."

"I want Louisa!" If she was standing up she would have stomped her foot on the floor, but that wasn't an option in her current position.

"She's about five miles that way," he pointed to his left, "but I wouldn't go out walking by yourself - there are worse people than me in this part of town." And then he was gone.

Caroline wrapped a blanket tightly around herself and made her way carefully off the bed and to the table, where the promised headache powder lay. After taking it with water, she crawled back into the bed, buried herself deep in the blankets, and prepared to die - if not from the wretched way she felt, then from pure mortification.

Wickham - he had no name, no connections, no fortune, nothing to further the family's position. All he had was her. "Great," she moaned, "Louisa is going to kill me!"

Eventually a girl of about thirteen years, presumably not Mrs. Younge, brought up a tray of breakfast things. At first Caroline had no desire to touch it, but the smell of coffee was too much for her to resist. She drank a cup, then went back to the bed, burrowed in again, and tried to think.

How soon could she expect her absence to be noticed? The servants at Netherfield would have assumed she was with Charles all evening, so they wouldn't think anything was amiss until he got home without her. Even then, unless he specifically asked after her, they might just assume like Charles, that she had been in her rooms. The earliest he would miss her then, would be when she did not come down for breakfast. If he was as addle-brained as he usually was in the morning, he might even forget to inquire after her before leaving to spend the day with Jane at Longbourn. Since Caroline didn't always require her maid when she returned home from an evening out, her maid probably wouldn't know she hadn't slept in her bed until late morning, and if Charles had already left for Jane's, the maid might assume that she had gone out with him. Great! thought Caroline, it could be days before anyone notices or cares that I'm gone. I bet they'd know if Miss Eliza was missing after 10 minutes! Caroline punched the pillow and burrowed deeper in the blankets.

Charles actually did remember to inquire after Caroline when she did not appear for breakfast, just as her maid was coming down to ask if her mistress, for some strange reason, had stayed overnight at the Bennet's. After questioning the rest of the staff, Charles was sure that no one had seen Caroline at Netherfield since she had left with him on the previous afternoon.

"Wickham!" Charles spit. Why had he let her go off with him? What a ninny! Some brother he turned out to be - he handed the sister he was responsible for over to a scoundrel and more or less told them to have a nice day. Now she was gone and he had no idea where to start looking. This was going to be very unpleasant. Great, he thought, Louisa is going to kill me!

At least that put him in mind of Louisa, and the possibility that Caroline might have persuaded Wickham to take her to the Grosvenor Street house in London so she could avoid having to hear anymore about Darcy and Elizabeth's engagement. Knowing Caroline, there was actually a pretty good chance that that was what had happened, so he didn't have to panic just yet. He sent an express to Louisa asking if Caroline had arrived. The earliest he could expect a reply was 6, maybe 7 hours. In the meantime, he would pay a visit to Colonel Forester.

Caroline must have slept, but she was awake now, and her head didn't hurt as much as it had before. Now she could think without fearing it would explode.

What to do? She could go to Louisa's if she wanted - she wasn't a prisoner. How hard could it be to hire a cab to Grosvenor Street? But then Louisa would want to know why she was there and how she had gotten to town - and what was she supposed to tell her? I don't remember. Bad plan. I was seduced - meet my husband, the steward's son. Worse.

So, what could she remember? Surprise Number Three, the sunset - no, the ring was Surprise Number Three. She looked at the ruby ring on her hand. It was very elegant, and looked far more expensive than Mr. Wickham - George - could afford. Another mystery. Caroline was getting sick of mysteries, too. Let's try again, Mrs. Wickham, she thought sarcastically, after the sunset...

***

Mr. Wickham, along with the Champaign, had had Caroline feeling so wonderful that she wanted it to go on forever, and she said so. Mistake. Their fractured conversation, between making each other feel mutually wonderful, went something like...

"Would you really?" asked Mr. Wickham.

"Really what?"

"Really want this to go on forever? Us ... to go on forever?"

"Of course."

"Good, because I've arranged it."

"Hmmm?"

"For us to be together. You do want that, don't you?"

"Mmmm. Uh, Yes."

"Caroline?"

"Hmmm?"

"Marry me."

"Mmmm"

"Caroline, will you marry me?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

"Was that a yes?"

"Yes?"

"You will? Good, I'd hoped you would see things as I do. You've made me the happiest man alive!" exclaimed Mr. Wickham, and much to Caroline's delight, he endeavored to show her just how happy she had made him.

"I know we'll be good together, Caroline, we suit each other," he said. Then after one more nuzzle or two, and a lingering embrace he added, "We'd better be going now. We don't want to get there too late." Then he packed her off, talking of the happy future he foresaw for them.

***

It was dark when he woke her. Caroline would rather have remained sleeping, but he urged her out of the carriage and into a cottage. Inside she leaned against him, trying to go back to sleep.

"Still want to marry me, Caroline?" he whispered

"Mmmm hmmm," she nodded into his coat. Yes, Caroline distinctly remembered agreeing with him then, and (unfortunately) she had meant it, too. Oh, pooh. Did she still mean it? She hadn't had time to think. It went against everything she had ever hoped for, planned for.

George - she might as well start calling him George now, it was a lot shorter than Mr. Wickham - got a chair for her to sit in, then started speaking to a man in the cottage about an appointment.

"At this hour? It's past 8 o'clock. This isn't an elopement, is it?" he asked.

"I would never!" Caroline said indignantly.

"Of course, you wouldn't, dear," said a woman, "but we can't be too careful, especially at this time of night."

"No, I made the arrangements with you a few weeks ago, " explained George. "We were just delayed and are running a few hours behind. You were to publish the banns for me."

"I remember now, Wickham and Bingby. We get a lot of Bingby's around here."

"No, dear, it was Bingley. I had to correct it on your paperwork."

"Oh, that one. Yes, took care of the banns, and you arranged for the license as well. You've brought no witnesses?"

"No, we've no family to speak of. We're both orphans."

"Is that true miss, are you orphaned?" asked the man.

"You or fanned?" Caroline asked. What an odd question.

"All alone in the world?" George whispered to her.

"Yes," said Caroline sadly, "All alone."

"Both orphans! Oh, you poor dears!" exclaimed the woman, as George let out a sigh of relief.

"Very well, we can provide the witnesses. Kate, see if the Coopers can pop over for a bit. Lord knows, they've stood in more than once for us - not usually this late though."

More people milled in, George helped Caroline up, she leaned against him as she held his arm. The man, spoke and spoke and spoke, Caroline thought she would fall asleep again. Then he asked her a question, something about taking Mr. Wickham somewhere.

"Where?" she asked.

"Take me," George whispered. "For us to be together forever."

"Ohhh," she nodded, "Yes."

George let out a sigh again. The man talked some more, would he never end? Then George whispered "Number Three" to her as he put the ruby ring on her finger. People were making such a fuss and wishing them well. Caroline smiled and nodded. At some point, the man asked her to sign her name and George gave her a fluffy feathered pen to do it with. She got to keep the pen.

And then there was the kiss in the chaise. It was different than the kisses he had given her at the picnic, this one seemed to mean something to him. It was real. For the duration of that long, loving kiss they each knew what the other was about and accepted it without question. If Caroline had any moment of clarity that night, it was in that kiss. She had meant it - and surprisingly, found she still did.

"Forever," she murmered.

"Forever, luv. Now snuggle up and stay warm, we've a long ride ahead of us," he said as he finished tucking a blanket around her. "Bless me, Caroline, you're the most wonderful thing that has ever happened in my sorry life."

"The 20,001st most wonderful thing?"

"20,000 be hanged. You're sweet and good in your own right, and don't let anyone ever tell you different."

"I think you're nice, too," she said as she prepared to sleep on his shoulder. "But the 20,000 is good."

"Yes," he laughed, "the 20,000 is very good."

Rain on the windowpane reminded Caroline of where she was and how late in the day it was. She brought the travel bag over to the bed and started looking through it. It seemed to have everything she would need. There were a few petticoats, brush, comb, a tin of hairpins, 3 or 4 gowns - her gowns - from her room at Grosvenor Street! In fact, everything in the bag was from her room! How had he managed that? Caroline mused as she dressed, she definitely had been underestimating the man.

Afterward she sat at the table, picking at what was still edible on the breakfast tray, and wondered how much longer George would be gone - she was getting bored. Maybe she should send a note to Charles. If - no, when - when he knew she was gone, he'd be frantic. He'd probably ride to London without thinking things out first, not having the slightest idea of what to do next. Dear Charles. That was something that she had that Miss Eliza would never have, a loving brother. No, wait - she would have a loving brother - Caroline's - as soon as Jane and Charles married. Pooh! Pooh! Pooh!

At least Caroline wouldn't have to share Louisa. She and Louisa had always been very close, especially since their mother died. She should probably write to Louisa now, just to let her know that she was safe, and that she would send word in a few days. She would need at least that much time to sort this mess out.

Society damage assessment: She was a Wickham now. It was a name from a lower circle, but, with the exception of her husband, still considered a respectable one. George was brought up as a gentleman and had a gentleman's profession. Charles could probably do something for his career, if he wanted him to. He wasn't totally devoid of connections, either; he had the Bingleys and Hursts now. And although he was estranged from the Darcys, they might be willing to accept him again, if not for her sake, then for Charles'. As for fortune - he had hers. It wasn't what she and Louisa had hoped for, but it wasn't hopeless. She did still have something of name, connection, and fortune - but she had a feeling Louisa wouldn't see it that way.

Well, if it came to comparing husbands, Caroline would take hers over Louisa's any day. Maybe George was as charming as a snake, but he was kind to her, and he was handsome, loving, a great kisser, and more (Caroline blushed). And he was always considerate of her feelings, more than anyone else she knew. Louisa was lucky if Mr. Hurst remembered she was in the carriage with him, let alone remembering to help her out of it.

Then there would be the gossip to face: about Caroline's quick marriage (she refused to call it an elopement), about her husband's lack of status, and the talk of Darcy's engagement to someone else - that was still to come. It was not going to be easy.

Charles arrived back at Netherfield in a sorry state. He was cold, wet, and depressed; he called for a fire and tea - lots of tea - and headed for his study. Colonel Forester had not been able to shed any light on Wickham's whereabouts. All he could tell him was that Wickham had taken leave for a few days on personal business, signed out a chaise, and had left no word of where he was going, although it was assumed to be London as he had gone there once or twice in the last month or two. The Colonel promised to send word if he heard anything more. Charles had gone on horseback to Meryton; half way home there was a downpour and he got drenched. Things were not going well, not well at all.

So he paced. Five hours - it would be another five hours before he could hope to hear from Louisa. He would have loved to wait at Jane's, but he wanted to keep things as quiet as possible - for now - and even he had to admit, nothing could be kept quiet at the Bennet's house. So he had sent his regrets to Longbourn, citing urgent business, and he hadn't seen her all day. He missed her - Jane, not Caroline - well he missed Caroline, too, of course - and he hadn't seen her all day, either - obviously. Well, dash it all, he missed them both! Four hours and 59 minutes...

At two hours and 37 minutes, Charles got word from Colonel Forester that the chaise had been returned.

Charles burst into the Colonel's office. "Where is he?"

"Mr. Bingley. I'm afraid Wickham didn't bring the chaise back himself, Corporal Blake did. However he did speak to Wickham in London earlier today. I asked him to wait for us by the stable."

Corporal Blake was standing out of the rain, just inside the stable door. He came to attention when his commanding officer approached him.

"Blake, this is Mr. Bingley. He'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Yes, sir."

"Blake, I understand you saw Mr. Wickham today."

"Yes, sir. In town, sir."

"Was anyone with him? A young lady?"

"No, sir, he was alone.

"Did say if he was traveling with a companion?"

"No, sir."

"Did he happen to say where he was staying?"

"No, sir. He didn't say."

"Well, what did he say?" Charles was getting flustered.

"Just start at the beginning, Blake. From when you first saw Wickham," added Colonel Forester.

"Yes, sir. I was in the town office, waiting for Major Timmons to finish up the dispatches he wanted me to deliver today, when Mr. Wickham comes in asking if anyone was scheduled to go to Meryton. I says I was, so he asks if I could take this carriage back for him." Blake indicated the chaise that stood nearby.

"Did he say why he couldn't return it himself?"

"Just that he'd be a few more days in town and didn't want to be keeping the carriage and horses if we had need of them here, sir." Blake looked a little nervous. "The Major said they weren't rush dispatches, sir, said he didn't mind me taking the carriage back at the slower pace."

"You did right, Blake. We just wanted to know where Wickham was and when he planned on being back."

"Yes, sir."

"Anything else, Mr. Bingley?" asked the Colonel.

"I guess not," Charles said dejectedly.

"That will be all, Blake."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He hesitated, then asked, "Begging the Colonel's pardon, sir. Would you like me to stash Mr. Wickham's things in his quarters, sir?"

"What things."

"He left a basket of stuff under the seat, sir. Noticed it on my way back."

Headless of the rain, Bingley literally flew to grab the basket out from the chaise. He dumped the contents on the stable floor and started looking through the pile - for what, he didn't know.

"Picnic things, looks like," mumbled the Colonel. Then noticing the empty bottles added, "Champaign. I'll have to speak to him about that when he returns."

Charles found a nearly blank piece of paper in the heap. On it was written the previous day's date and the words Less Heath Parsonage.

"Less Heath Parsonage?" Charles said aloud.

"Less Heath, nice little place," commented Blake, who thought watching a gentleman paw through trash was more interesting than anything else he was supposed to be doing.

"You know it?"

"Yeah, got a cousin married a farmer from near there. It's that way," he pointed, "about an hour past Oakham Mount."

Charles looked in that general direction. It was getting dark, and with the rain, night travel wouldn't be wise. He'd have to leave first thing in the morning.

Shortly after he returned to Netherfield, the express from Louisa arrived. Caroline wasn't there. Wickham, he thought, I'm going to kill you!

It was midafternoon when George finally returned. He entered the room and kissed Caroline's cheek as if it was an everyday occurrence, then sat down at the table with her.

"Sorry, it took longer than I thought, but I come bearing gifts," he said.

Caroline put her head in her hands. "No more surprises, please."

He smiled and was going to reply, but he noticed most of the food was still on the tray. "Is that all you've had to eat?"

"I wasn't that hungry."

"Are you feeling better?"

She met his eyes and gave him a small smile. "Much, thank you."

"Remember anything?"

She nodded, "Everything."

George hesitated before he asked the next one. "Regrets?"

"None."

He let out a sigh of relief. "That's my girl!" he said, and kissed her on the cheek again. What's with all this cheek kissing? Caroline wondered. Then standing, he went behind her and clipped a necklace around her neck, but not without nuzzling a bit afterwards. That's better, she thought, then turned her attention to his gift. The necklace held a ruby in the same elegant setting as her ring - A matched set.

"It's beautiful. Thank you."

George sat down again and took both of her hands in his. "I have a feeling I should be thanking you, Caroline. I have to admit, I was feeling rather pleased with myself last evening, right up until the point when I had cause to wonder whether I had made off with you, or you had made off with me. The more I think about it, the more I'm inclined to think it's the latter."

"Oh? And what makes you think that?" she asked innocently.

"The 20,001st wonderful thing."

"20,000 be hanged," she replied, leaning toward him. They shared another long kiss, and then more, much more.

Later that night, as she lay in his arms while he slept, she reflected, Being Mrs. Wickham might not be so bad after all.

Part 2B

Posted on Monday, 30 September 2002, at 9:14 p.m.

Charles would have preferred the speed of traveling by horseback, but if he was lucky enough to find Caroline, he wanted to have the carriage available for her. He arrived in the village of Less Heath shortly before 9 o'clock, and was quickly pointed the way to the parsonage. Once inside, a servant took his name and showed him into a small parlor. A few moments later a clergyman appeared.

"Good morning, Mr. Bingby. I am the paster, Mr. Lumas. What may I do for you today?"

"It's Bingley, and I am looking for my sister and a man she was traveling with, Mr. Wickham."

"Oh, Bingley. Yes we had the Wickham/ Bingby wedding just the other evening. Nice couple - came in rather late though."

"Bingley, dear, not Bingby," said a woman bringing in a tray of coffee and scones. Mr. Lumas introduced her as his wife.

"They eloped?" asked Charles in disbelief.

"No, it wasn't an elopement," said Mrs. Lumas, "the young lady was quite against that, as well she should be. This wedding had been planned for some time. The gentleman had the banns and license arranged for weeks ago."

"Weeks ago?!!"

"Yes, he seemed to know what was required," said Mr. Lumas. "Most young men come in and I have to guide them through the process. Not this gentleman - knew all about the paperwork side of it. Kate had to correct the name for me, though - understandable mistake, lot's of Bingby's around these parts. I put it down as Bingby at first."

"I never saw a couple so much in love," Mrs. Lumas said wistfully. "He was whispering sweet things in the young lady's ear, and she couldn't bear to let go of her gentleman's arm."

"Caroline Bingley?"

"Yes, that was her name - quiet little thing, maybe a bit shy, always had a smile on her face. It's so nice to see a young couple start their married lives out on the right foot. So many young people today are only concerned about money and wedding clothes."

"You are sure we are talking about the same Caroline Bingley? So high, brown hair, brown eyes?"

She nodded. "I'm surprised she didn't mention that she had a brother, though. She said she was an orphan."

"Yes, well, that's true. Both our parents died some years ago."

"Oh, you poor dears!"

Charles gave her an indulgent nod for her sympathy.

"I'm sorry we can't be of more help to you, Mr. Bingley, but as I said, everything appeared to be on the up and up," said Mr. Lumas, when it finally dawned on him that perhaps things hadn't been. "The gentleman did mentioned that they were going on to town that evening."

"Did they happen to say what part of London they were stopping in?" Charles asked hopefully.

"No, I'm afraid they didn't say," replied the pastor.

His wife added in an under tone, "But I think they'd be wanting a little privacy for the first week or two - newlyweds you know, so much in love."

It took every ounce of self control that Charles had to politely take his leave and return to his coach without tearing out all of his own hair, and Mrs. Lumas's, too.

Mr. Wickham ushered Caroline into the front room of the house, where a woman of about 40 years sat sewing. She set her work aside to stand and greet them.

"Millie, I'd like you to meet my wife, Mrs. Wickham," George winked, and Caroline blushed, as he introduced her to their proprietor. "Caroline, this is Mrs. Younge, an old friend."

"Not too old, Mr. Wickham?"

"Ageless, my fair lady, ageless." He kissed her hand. "Millie got me out of a few scrapes when I first moved to London."

"I'm pleased to meet you," said Caroline.

"We are going to take in a matinee. Caroline has a great desire to see how the other half lives, at least for an afternoon's enjoyment."

"Might I have a word with you before you go, Mr. Wickham?" asked Mrs. Younge. "It's about the dinner you ordered for tonight."

"Certainly, excuse me for a moment, Luv?"

Caroline nodded as George and the older woman stepped aside. She caught sight of the servant girl petting a cat at the far end of the room and walked over to join her.

"An orange cat!" Caroline exclaimed, "I've never seen one quite that shade before!" She had always preferred cats to dogs - they were closer to her in nature; dogs always seemed too trusting to be trusted.

"His name is Tom," offered the girl. "He usually lives in the back alley, but I'm trying to make a house cat of him."

"Sounds like a challenge," said Caroline, glancing at her husband. "And what is your name?"

"Ginny. Really it's Regina, but nobody calls me that."

"Regina is a beautiful name. May I call you that?" The girl nodded.

As they petted the cat and chatted about pets they had each had in the past, Caroline could just make out the conversation that her husband was having with Mrs. Younge.

"Congratulations George, you finally swept one off their feet."

"Thanks, but it's debatable exactly who was holding the broom."

She gave him a quizzical look, then shrugged. "Well, she's pretty enough, and very elegant. A bit older than you usually go for - not that that matters to the bankers."

"Shhh, Millie - she'll hear you. Besides, it's not quite that way."

"What other way has it ever been for you?" She chuckled as she saw him blush ever so slightly. "Ohhh, she's got you - and by the look of you, she's got you good. Your in love!"

Caroline's eyes widened and she forgot to breath. Luckily her back was to them, for she blushed furiously, too. Could it be? Did she hear that right?

"I never thought I'd see the day..." continued the amused Mrs. Younge.

"Millie, quiet!"

"Never mind, George, it might do you a world of good. Just don't be forgetting your friends when you get settled with your lady-love in high society."

"Fine, Millie - now about the dinner?" They talked a few minutes making the meal arrangements before he returned to Caroline.

"Ready?" he asked.

She stood up with a shaky feeling in her stomach, met his eyes, and held them for a moment. Was it possible to see past the charm? If there was anything else there, would she even be able to recognize it? Would she want to? Could this be that nonsense that Charles had tried to tell her about? As if she hadn't already made her life complicated enough!

"Yes," she lied. She definitely was not ready - not in her wildest dreams could she ever imagine being ready - but then, he was only thinking of a matinee, she was thinking about their entire life! She gave him a shy smile, bid good-bye to Regina, and let him escort her out the door.

Charles was so anxious and frustrated that it was torture for him to sit uselessly in the carriage for the half-day's journey to London; somehow he managed, but the upholstery on the seat and arms were so frayed from him fidgeting and toying with them, that they would need to be replaced. When he got to town, he stopped in briefly at Grosvenor Street to see if the Hursts had heard from Caroline - they hadn't, and Louisa was not taking it at all well - then he continued on to the Darcy townhouse, praying that Darcy had returned from Kent - he had.

"Bingley, it's good to see you. Have you heard..." Mr. Darcy began.

"Darcy! Oh, yes, congratulations on your engagement to Miss Elizabeth, Jane told me - but Darcy, I'm at my wit's end!" Charles had tried to lead into his news gradually, but quickly gave up and resorted to blurting everything out at once. "I can't find her! He took her and eloped, but didn't, and she seems to have been in on it, but wouldn't. And Louisa is just as frantic as I am, and as soon as I find him I'm going to..."

"Charles, calm down! What is the matter, man? Sit down, here - let me get you something. You are not well..."

"No, I'm well, I just have some distressing news..."

Mr. Darcy hadn't seen Bingley this upset since - no, he'd never seen Bingley this upset. He thrust a glass of brandy into his friend's hand, saying, "Here, drink this, calm yourself, then start at the beginning. What is the matter?"

Charles took a long sip, paused to collect himself then started his story. He told him of Caroline's reaction to the news of Darcy's engagement, his own guilt in handing her over to Wickham and her subsequent disappearance, Blake's encounter with Wickham in London, the clue he'd found in the basket, and the news of their marriage in Less Heath.

Darcy could hardly believe it. Caroline Bingley duped by Wickham? Impossible! A naïve, trusting Georgiana Darcy - yes; perhaps even a flirtatious and impetuous Kitty or Lydia Bennet; but not a sophisticated, Season-seasoned heiress like Caroline Bingley. She could spot a fortune hunter three ballrooms away and send him packing with a glance. This could not have happened - not to Caroline - at least not under normal circumstances. Could his engagement to Elizabeth have affected her that much?

Charles finished his story, then stared into his half empty glass. "Now I'm at my wit's end and don't know what to do. I'll go mad if I don't try to find her, but I have no idea where to start looking."

"I might."

"You might what?"

"I might have an idea - don't excite yourself, Charles, I could be wrong - but I think I know where we can at least begin the search. And since it appears Wickham wants to be found..."

"He wants to be found? Whatever gave you that idea?"

"He sent the chaise back so you could find the parsonage address. He wanted you to know that they had married before you found them - probably thought you'd be less likely to call him out if you knew that."

"He thought wrong," Charles said hotly.

"Charles, I'm so sorry, it's is all my fault - I could have prevented this. I should have told you the whole story of the trouble between myself and Wickham as soon as he turned up in Hertfordshire."

"You can tell me on the way. Now, show me where to start the search."

The dinner George had ordered was everything his picnic lunch was not; five courses of fair to rival even Louisa's favorite cook's. And George brought out another bottle of Champaign, which Caroline thought best to sip sparingly. George however, was in a merry mood, and thus quite liberal when pouring his own glass.

"So, Mrs. Wickham, did you enjoy the matinee?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Wickham, once I got past the smells - I didn't know people could smell so many different ways," replied Caroline.

"Soap tends to be a luxury item for many in this part of town."

"Apparently. But I did like the show, it was unlike any theater that I've ever been to before."

"What did you like best?"

"I found the music was surprisingly good, but I'd have to say I liked the acrobats the best. I haven't seen acrobats since I was a child - Father took us to a circus once when Mama was still alive. And you, George," she said his name shyly, "What was your favorite part?"

"The poetry," he said with a wicked grin.

"Ohhh! They shouldn't say such things about the Prince Regent, or our poor king - especially in front of all those children!"

"Don't worry, the children will make it respectable. Today's political satire is tomorrow's nursery rhyme."

"Don't be absurd."

"It's true. You don't think Humpty Dumpty was really an egg, do you?"

"Frankly, I've never given it much thought."

"Richard III. My kingdom for a horse ... All the king's horses and all the king's men..." (1)

"Really? Where did you learn that? Surely they don't teach that at University."

"More like off-University. They teach the formal, boring things in class, the interesting stuff you learn in the pub. One of my professors could go on all night about the origins of nursery stories, especially after he'd had a few."

"What about Ring-a-Ring-of-Roses? That was always my favorite."

"You don't want to know about that one over dinner, Luv. I'll tell you another time." (2) He noticed her ring as she took a sip of Champaign. "Speaking of rings, that isn't too loose is it?"

"No, the size is perfect, like it was made for me. The set is truly lovely."

"I'm glad you like it - it's the last of my Mum's."

Caroline raised her eye skeptically. "The Darcys must have paid very well."

"They did - but they could have paid my father twice as much and Mum would have spent it just as fast; she had exquisite taste, but very expensive. I thought all her jewelry had gone to pay off the creditors after her death; I just found out last fall that my Dad had given some of the better pieces to my aunt to hold for me - good thing, too - they'd have been long gone if I'd gotten a hold of them any sooner. My aunt's solicitor gave them to me after she died last year."

"My condolences."

"Thank you, but I didn't know her well. Anyway, there were a few odd necklaces and such, some went to pay off my more ... dangerous ... debts, I lost a piece here and there at cards. I hocked your necklace there," he pointed to the piece Caroline wore, as her hand unconsciously went up to it, "to raise part of my commission. Your ring I kept for a rainy day." He smiled at her. "I don't need it now, I don't plan on having any more rainy days."

A thought struck Caroline and she smiled. "So, one could say that you have given your entire fortune over to me."

"Yes," he paused, considering, "I guess one could say that." Somehow it pleased Caroline - if he had given every valuable thing he owned to her, he seemed like less of a fortune hunter.

"How did you get my necklace back?"

"You'd be surprised how much credit the Bingley name can buy."

"Oh," she said shortly. At least he's being honest, she thought, then added aloud, "Did you mean what you said the other day?"

"Before or after the wedding?"

"After."

"Then I meant it, I haven't lied to my wife yet. What in particular?"

"About me being clever."

"Definitely. You are one of the most intelligent people of my acquaintance -certainly the most clever woman I've ever met, and that includes Miss Fine-Eyes Bennet, by the way."

"Really? You think I'm smarter than Miss Eliza?"

"No comparison. You had me pegged from the beginning - no fooling you, whereas I had her eating out off my hands practically the first day. Very gullible. Of course, I only told her what she wanted to hear - people are more apt to believe you if you tell them what they want."

"Do you always tell young ladies what they want to hear?"

"Usually. But if you recall, Luv, you were the exception."

"Yes," she laughed, "you took delight in annoying me."

"The truth can sometimes be annoying."

"But you were wrong about Mr. Darcy and Miss De Bourgh."

"That surprised me - I never thought Darcy would have the guts to go against Lady Catherine. Of course, it's easy to see now that he had the incentive."

"Miss Eliza."

"I was right about an engagement, but I never would have thought it would be to Miss Bennet. It wouldn't have been, you know, if it hadn't been for Darcy clueing her in at your ball. She probably still would be thinking him a villain."

"Because of all you had told her of him?

"Yes."

"And was Miss King as gullible?"

"Ahhh, Miss King - simple flattery was all she required." He emptied his glass of Champaign, offered more to Caroline, who politely refused, then poured more for himself. "Georgiana was even easier, but of course she trusted me already. Last year..."

"Georgiana Darcy?" An alarm went off in Caroline's head. He couldn't mean her, could he? Surely he hadn't tried this on Georgiana!

"Uh, yes." Wickham faultered. Caroline saw, for an instant, something she had never seen in him before - uncertainty, the shock of having misspoken and not being able to take it back. He tried to recover, but it was too late. Caroline had seen. "Dear Georgiana, we grew up together, I could make her believe anything."

"Like nursery stories?" Caroline asked innocently.

"Yes!" he replied with relief.

"Last year."

"Uh..."

"Like you told Miss Eliza..."

"That's not quite..."

"And Miss King."

"It wasn't like that, Luv."

But she knew it had been. He had gone after her young friend just as he had gone after her. Any good opinion of him she had been nursing over the last few days vanished. All that remained was his deceit.

"Georgiana Darcy! How could you? She's just a child, more so last year!"

"She's not all that young..."

"So innocent, so shy..."

"She's mature - wiser than her years..."

"She's not even out yet!"

"But she could be, she's the same age as Lydia Bennet..."

"Lydia Bennet! Lydia Bennet!" The final offence to Caroline was to mention a Bennet. She could think of nothing more to say in her rage, still she needed to express her contempt. Without really thinking, she reached for her empty plate and flung it at him. He ducked out of the way just in time, but not without causing his chair to tip over.

"Caroline!" he cried from the floor.

"I can't believe it. You tried to seduce little Georgiana Darcy?"

"Seduce is such an ugly word. Court sounds so much..." Next went her bread plate. He ducked behind the table.

"I can't believe you'd be so heartless, so cruel!"

"Nothing happened!" He stood to try and calm her. "Darcy showed up before anything..."

"So she was your attempt to get something from Darcy by another means!" She grabbed his plate this time, and flung it.

"He had it coming! Owwwww!" Success! Yes, she still had it! George grabbed his arm where the plate had made contact. He watched in horror as Caroline picked up one of the serving trays, took aim, and flung it, narrowly missing him.

"And Georgiana, was she just a means to revenge or did you really want her 30,000 pounds?" She picked up both teacups, and seemed to be trying to decide which one to throw first.

"Caroline, your taking this all out of propor..." She decided. She threw both.

He tried again; with every ounce of reserve he could muster he said, "I'm not proud of what I did." And ducked as another bread plate flew by, "but I was always fond of Georgiana and treat her ..."

"Like you treated me!" she spat.

"You were completely different." His ability to fuel her wrath was uncanny. She glanced quickly around the table and was thankful that it had been a five-course meal. Plenty of ammunition remained.

"Yes, you got me drunk!" she said, as she hurled the platter from the first course his way.

"It was your idea - you said you had to be out of your senses! Besides, you were on to me."

"You didn't know that then!" The second course platter took flight, again narrowly missing him.

"How was I to know you'd have come with me anyway?"

"You could have asked!"

"You'd have said no - you did before."

"And I would again!" She picked up the third course platter and flung it. "That's for Geogiana!"

"Owww!" Contact - his timing had been off and the platter hit him in the forehead above his right eye.

"That's for Mary King!" Off went the fourth course platter. He managed to just avoid it, and quickly made for the hallway door.

"And that's for me!" He ducked, the door opened, to reveal Charles and Mr. Darcy, who just managed to lean out of the way as the fifth course platter sailed by and hit the hallway wall behind them.

"Caroline!" exclaimed George and Charles in unison, but with very different inflections.

"Charles!" cried Caroline, putting down a serving tray and running to her brother. "Oh Charles, take me home!"

"Are you alright?"

She nodded. After assuring himself that she did, indeed, appear to be all right, Charles grabbed the cowering Wickham by the collar and lifted him to his feet.

"Wickham, I'm going to ..."

Caroline took her brother's arm and tried to lead him down the hall. "Don't talk to him, Charles - he'll only tell you lies. Take me home!" Charles released the man with a shove, then turning his back in disdain, wrapped an arm around his sister and escorted her away. George tried to follow but Mr. Darcy blocked his way, with both his body and his walking stick.

"I wouldn't if I were you," Mr. Darcy said ominously.

"But she's my wife! Caroline!" he yelled after her, as she disappeared down the stairway.

A moment later, with the various occupants of the boarding house as an audience, Mr. Darcy stood guard at the entryway of the house as Charles helped Caroline into the carriage. George tried to push past him, but Darcy wouldn't give.

"Caroline! If you'd just listen..." George shouted uselessly.

With his friends securely inside, Mr. Darcy symbolically brushed the lint from one of his coat sleeves, and said as he left, "This isn't over, Wickham."

Mrs. Younge commented, none too quietly to Ginny, "But it looks like the honeymoon is."

(1) For this theory (disputed) of who Humpty Dumpty was, please refer to http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Forum/3041/humpty.html

(2) There is a theory (also disputed) that Ring around the Rosie (AKA Ring a Ring of Roses, etc) is about the effects of bubonic plague. For more info, please refer to http://www.snopes2.com/language/literary/rosie.htm

Part 3

Posted on Monday, 14 October 2002, at 6:10 a.m.

Inside the carriage, Charles sat next to Caroline, holding her protectively in his arms, her head against his shoulder.

"Thank you for coming for me, Charles," she said quietly. "He's not as I thought he was."

The carriage rocked a bit as Mr. Darcy entered and took a seat in the far corner.

"Did he hurt you?" Charles asked, his voice full of concern.

"No," Caroline murmured.

It looks like she did some damage, though! thought Mr. Darcy. He stared out the window, focusing on nothing in particular, and thought his own thoughts. He was doing his best to pretend that he wasn't there - he did not want to intrude on the Bingleys' privacy.

Charles lowered his voice so that only his sister could hear. "Did he threaten you?"

"No."

She's got a good arm, thought Darcy.

"You must have been so frightened," Charles said sympathetically.

"Not at all."

...and a great aim.

"You did... marry him?" asked Charles, although he already knew the answer.

Caroline nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.

I wonder if she could teach that to Georgiana.

Charles hesitated with the final question, he didn't want to ask it - he didn't want to know. It really shouldn't be any of his business, but unfortunately - as Caroline's protector, and a failed one at that - he had to make it his business.

"Did you... consummate?"

She nodded, and began to cry quietly into his shoulder, not because of what they had done, but because she realized too late what her husband really was. The darkness of the coach hid the pain on Charles' face; this unpleasantness was far from over.

Maybe Elizabeth, too!

"It's all right, Caroline," Charles assured her. "No one need know - we'll get the marriage annulled."

Caroline shook her head and began to weep violently.

On second thought, maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea to teach that to Elizabeth.

Charles held his sister tighter, trying to reassure her that he wouldn't let her down again. "There, there, Caroline, don't cry. I'll take care of it. I promise, I will take care of everything!" To himself Charles said - Wickham, I should have killed you. I still might!

As Mr. Darcy helped Caroline out of the carriage, she looked at him closely. For the first time she saw him as he really was: to Charles - a close friend, to her - nothing. Not really nothing, he was a friend, in his way, but now she understood that she should never have expected anything more; Charles had been right about that. She could never have confided in Mr. Darcy as she and George had confided in each other. In their brief time together, Caroline had told her husband things that she could never conceive of telling Louisa, let alone Charles - and certainly not anyone so indifferent to her as Mr. Darcy. No, George may be a cruel, heartless creep that she never wanted to see again, but he was her cruel, heartless creep - for better or worse - and despite what Charles said, nothing could be done to change that. She and George had shared something special beyond the physical - Caroline didn't know what that something was for sure, but she knew now that she would never have found it with Mr. Darcy. And it was probably lost to her with George now as well.

She took her brother's offered arm and he escorted her to the door of the Grosvenor Street house, where they paused. It was time to face Louisa, who had mothered them, in her way, since their mother's death. It was time for Caroline to admit to her family that her opportunistic but adoring husband was a snake. She felt like she was thirteen again and had let slip to a schoolmate that their fortune had come from trade. Charles felt like he was eleven and had ruined his second pair of shoes in less than a week. Here it comes, they each thought, Louisa is going to kill me!

But she didn't. Inside she welcomed them with open arms.

"Carrrrroooooliiiiinnnne!" she exclaimed in relief. "Oh, Charles - thank goodness you found her!" The shorter sister embraced the taller one, and was reluctant to let go.

"All our thanks must go to Darcy, Louisa. He had a hunch on where to look, and luckily, he was right."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Darcy! We can never repay you for bringing our sister safely back to us. Please come in and refresh yourself."

"No thanks are necessary, madam, I was just fortunate to have some additional information that proved useful. Charles, I took the liberty of holding your coach. If I could impose on you for a lift back home..."

"Don't be rushing off, Darcy! Do come in and have a drink!" piped in Mr. Hurst.

"Thank you, but another time. I left some pressing business at home that I really should get back to."

"May I call tomorrow?" Charles asked.

"Of course, Charles. My door is always open to you. Until tomorrow then."

"And Darcy - thank you." Charles shook the older man's hand as he never had before. Both knew they could never be closer, despite the fact that they were soon to become brothers.

After Mr. Darcy had gone, Louisa whispered, "Caroline, did he hurt you?"

"No, Louisa, I'm fine."

"Did you and he..."

"You should have seen her, Louisa!" Charles interrupted. "She was holding the scoundrel off with crockery when we arrived. She was magnificent!"

Caroline looked at her brother as if he had gone mad. What are you saying? she asked with her eyes. The implication he was making, that she hadn't been... intimate... with her husband, was far from the truth. Charles couldn't lie, not to Louisa, not to Caroline. It's not that he hadn't ever tried, it's just that he had never been good at it - he always gave himself away!

Charles caught her eye and held it, more like a commanding father than a little brother. His message: Trust me. I WILL handle this! came through to Caroline loud and clear.

Whether the new, commanding Charles was more convincing, or Louisa just chose to believe what she wanted to believe, Caroline couldn't say. But Louisa was convinced.

"You weren't too late then, thank goodness! It's not as bad as we feared. Come Caroline, I'll have Sofie and LiseAnn prepare a nice, hot bath for you, then it's right to bed. You must be worn out after the ordeal that ruffian must have put you through! You too, Charles! You're still in your traveling clothes from this morning. A hot bath and bed for you, too!"

"I will, Louisa, right after I grab a bite to eat."

"How could I have forgotten? You haven't dined! I'll have Alicia bring something to you from the kitchen right away. For you, too, Caroline."

"No thank you, Louisa," she said, throwing a grin to Charles. "I finished my dinner."

After her bath, when Caroline was comfortably settled in her bedchamber, Louisa came and asked if she needed anything, or if she would like to talk for a while. Caroline replied that she was tired and just wanted to sleep. She would have liked to confide in her sister, there was a lot that needed to be said, but she felt she should give Charles the benefit of the doubt and trust him, for now - he was the head of the family after all, and she had put him through so much these last few days. So for the time being, she felt she had better keep her adventures - or misadventures - to herself.

Alone in the dark, she lay awake for hours thinking about all that had happened and how it had ended. She thought of Georgiana and what George had nearly done to her, and she cried. Not for Georgiana, but for herself and her loss - for what George had been to her and for the man she thought he had been. But, she thought sadly, That's not really him - he's not as I thought he was! She felt a grief akin to when her mother died. Eventually, she cried herself to sleep.

The next day, as expected, Charles dropped in at the Darcy house shortly after noon, and was shown into Mr. Darcy's study.

"Bingley, how is Miss Bing...Caroline... today?"

"I don't know, I left before she came down."

"And you, my friend? How are you?"

"I thought I'd be better." He sat down heavily in the offered chair. "Darcy, how am I to fix this mess?"

"That is for you to decide, I'm afraid, Charles. But you have to admit, having your sister home and safely out of Wickham's hands has got to be preferable to the alternative. Although last night she seemed to be holding her own."

"She was something, wasn't she?" Charles smiled, something he hadn't done much in the last three days, "A regular wild cat, she was."

"Not one that I would want to face, nor do I think Wickham would relish the thought of tangling with her again. Perhaps that is to your advantage Charles - it was obvious last night that Caroline has no wish to return to the cad, and after the pummeling she gave him, he is probably just as anxious to be rid of her. You may just be able to pay him off for his silence and take care of the whole thing with a quiet annulment."

"Do you really think he'd be willing to make a deal?"

"Deals are Wickham's specialty - believe me, I know. And I took the liberty of making a few inquiries of my own for you." Darcy handed Charles a card.

"Sharney, Ebony, Shemellie, and Janh?" Charles read.

"Yes, it's a firm off Katherine Road. They know the marriage laws inside and out, and charge enough to guarantee their discretion. If you need to know anything about annulment or divorce, they are the people to see. I'm told they give excellent legal advice."

"Thank you, Darcy, truly. I don't know how I would have made it through these last few days without you."

"Think nothing of it, what are friends for? Besides, we are soon to be family!"

"Yes, I'd almost forgotten. Oh, how I miss Jane!"

"And I Elizabeth. But at least she will be here tomorrow."

"I thought she was not expected until the end of the week?"

"She wasn't, but I asked her to come to her uncle's home early. I don't want her in Kent when my Aunt Catherine learns of our engagement. She won't be at all pleased."

"Your cousin, either, I would imagine."

"Actually, I told my cousin Anne before I left Rosings, and she wished us joy - she never wanted to marry me - it was all her mother's notion."

"Well, give my best wishes to Miss Elizabeth when you see her."

"I shall. I am taking Georgiana to the Gardeners to meet her tomorrow evening."

Charles stood to take his leave. "My best to Miss Darcy as well. She will be so happy to have a sister, and she couldn't ask for a better one than Miss Elizabeth, if my Jane is to be believed."

"I couldn't agree more." Mr. Darcy walked his friends to the door. "Good bye, Charles, and let me know if I can be of any more assistance."

Charles left with a brighter outlook than when he had come. With luck, and a little cooperation, maybe I won't have to kill Wickham after all!

"Darcy had some thoughts on taking care of things expediently," said Charles happily when he joined his sisters in the drawing room for tea.

"Good, the sooner the better; I don't like that Wickham fellow one bit. You know, he called today expecting to see our sister!" exclaimed Louisa.

"He did, Caroline? What did you do?"

"I refused, of course!" Caroline said indignantly.

"Then she had the curtains drawn," added Louisa, "so we wouldn't see him loitering about outside."

"He wouldn't leave?" Charles asked. Caroline wandered over to the window, and peeked out when Louisa wasn't looking.

"He left the house, all right," Louisa explained, "but he still kept hanging about the neighborhood, sending in letters. Jarett finally had to send Cuerden out to tell the man he wasn't welcome."

"Cuerden? The new footman from Somerset?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"That bloke's taller than Darcy! If he doesn't discourage Wickham, nothing will."

"That's what I thought," smirked Louisa. "Anyway, tell us about your news."

"Darcy knows Wickham's weaknesses quite well, and is certain it won't take much to persuade him to be cooperative. I'm to see some solicitors tomorrow, very discrete, who specialize in this sort of thing. Everything should be able to be put to right in a reasonable amount of time"

"Then we can get back to normal again," Louisa sighed. "So far we have been able to avoid a scandal, but I thought some distance might be prudent."

Caroline walked over to the sofa and sat down beside her sister. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Caroline, what do you think of this scheme I have? When the arrangements for your annulment are finalized, Mr. Hurst will take us on a tour of the continent, perhaps Charles and Jane can join us, too. We'll have a nice, long holiday. Then when we return, you should be ready for a new start, in plenty of time for the next Season. True, you'll be a year older, but you will more than make up for the extra year with interesting dinner conversation from your travels. Most of the older bachelors prefer a mature woman who can talk intelligently over a younger one with an empty head and a pretty face."

"There is no need for me to tour the continent, Louisa, or for charming old bachelors at dinner parties. I am already married and I will not be getting an annulment."

"But Charles doesn't think that Wickham creature will be a problem. His type will always take a bit a ready money over that of a... speculative kind."

"I wouldn't be so quick to make assumptions about Mr. Wickham - that was one of my mistakes. George is not one to do the obvious. Now if you'll excuse me, Louisa, Charles, I'm a bit tired and am going to my room."

Caroline thought it best to excuse herself from tea, for she could not trust herself not to fling one of Louisa's plates. The more she thought about the whole conversation she had just sat through, the angrier she got. She knew Charles and Louisa were just trying to help, but they only reminded her that she would never be able to trust that snake of a husband of hers! George probably would agree to an annulment and take the money, then he would have cash to hold him over until he was able to snare the next hapless heiress that came along. If he put a little more thought into choosing his victims, he could probably live quite nicely going from marriage to marriage. That is - if he could avoid being killed by disgruntled fathers and brothers.

Well, Caroline was not about to let him off that easily! She would never agree to an annulment, and he would never be free to take advantage of another innocent girl! She told herself that was her real reason for refusing an annulment, but deep down she knew she had another. She couldn't take her vows so lightly - or at least she wouldn't if she could remember them properly - no matter how lightly he may be persuaded to take them.

She was interrupted in her thoughts by a knock on the door.

"May I come in?" Charles asked.

"Please do, Charles. I think it's time we talked." He came in and sat next to her on a small sofa near the fireplace.

"Caroline, I don't understand your reluctance to end this marriage. You seemed more than willing to yesterday when we found you. It was never meant to be - Wickham caught you in a weak moment, then proceeded to take advantage of you in the worst possible way."

"Charles, it wasn't as bad as you think - and do give me the courtesy of not thinking me totally naïve. Granted, I was upset over Mr. Darcy's engagement, and George did pour the Champaign, but I chose to drink it. Besides, I was perfectly sober while we were smashing plates, and that's when I made my decision."

"Last night?"

"No, at the picnic."

"You smashed plates at a picnic, too? Oh, never mind, I don't think I want to know. You were talking about a decision..."

"Yes, my decision to elope with Mr. Wickham." There, she said it - she admitted it even to herself. She had eloped.

"You went willingly?" Charles couldn't believe it, not of Caroline. "For heaven's sake, why?"

"Mr. Darcy didn't want me. George did," she said quietly, "And besides..."

"Yes," Charles prompted, "Go on..."

"I liked him."

"I see. Do you still like him?"

Caroline shook head. "No."

"Then why won't you agree to an annulment?"

Caroline didn't answer, but tears started rolling down her cheeks, then fell to her lap as she lowered her head. Charles spoke for her.

"You don't like him anymore. You love him."

She nodded. "But he's no good!" she cried, and started weeping inconsolably into her brother's shoulders.

Well, Charles thought, patting her head, As long as Caroline doesn't make a habit of this, what's a ruined coat or two when it comes to a sister's comfort? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that she fell in love, it happened to me quickly enough, but to such a man?

Caroline kept to her room for the rest of that day. She could still be heard crying when Mr. Hurst passed by her door on his way to dinner.

"How long is she going to stay upstairs and keep blubbering like that?" asked Mr. Hurst. He considered any display of emotion as unnecessary, theatrical, and a $#@! waste of time.

"As long as it takes to get over this... incident, I would imagine," answered his wife calmly.

If she loves him as much as I love Jane, thought Charles, it will take... forever.

The next day Caroline hadn't seen George hanging about outside, nor heard the servants mention that officer as they had the day before. No one called, and no notes were delivered to her. Maybe he had forgotten about her, or worse - decided to take the money Charles offered and agreed to an annulment. Toward evening, as she was changing for dinner, there was a knock on her door.

"Excuse me, Miss?" The kitchen maid peeked her head through the door.

"Yes, Alicia?"

"A boy just delivered these flowers for you to the kitchen entrance."

It was a small bouquet of Forget-me-nots. The card simply read Forever.

Caroline smiled. Apparently he did not take his vows as lightly as she thought he had.

It had been nearly three days. George had called, they had sent him away. He had hung about the neighborhood hoping to catch a glimpse of Caroline coming or going, they sent out a very large servant who threatened to call the constable on him. He had written her notes, even sent her flowers - to no avail; he got no reply. Her relatives must be keeping everything from her. Surely Caroline wouldn't ignore me. He rubbed the bump on his forehead, Then again, he thought, maybe she would.

After the third day, in frustration, he bought the biggest bottle of brandy he could find and attempted to lose himself in it, and his past nocturnal pursuits. He staggered into Mrs. Younge's kitchen two days later looking the worse for wear, dumped himself into a chair, and watched as the girl, Ginny, fed her cat.

"Some men came by looking for you a few days ago, Mr. Wickham," Ginny told him from the floor, where she petted the cat as it ate. "They left a card for you. Mrs. Younge has it."

"I'm not surprised, I rather expected it. But I don't choose to be found just yet." He then looked at the cat and stated, "I hate orange."

"I prefer blue myself, but that would be an odd color for a cat. What is your favorite color, red?"

"Honey brown," he said miserably.

"Oh," said the girl, "that explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Mrs.Wickham - her eyes. Why is she mad?"

"Before I met Mrs. Wickham I knew a friend of hers. I hurt her... feelings."

"It's simple then, apologize."

"I tried, but she won't see me."

"Not to Mrs. Wickham, to her friend. Then her friend won't be hurt anymore and Mrs. Wickham can love you again."

"It's not that easy."

"Most things worth doing aren't." She picked up the cat and headed out the back door, leaving George some food for thought.

Caroline was becoming reconciled to her current situation: she would continue to love the memory of the George she had married, but not have anything to do with the heartless snake he had turned out to be. It didn't make any sense, considering they were the same man, but she had heard that love seldom made sense so she wasn't worried. She just wouldn't think about it, or him, too much. Charles was frustrated by her attitude and muttered about legalities that needed to be taken care of one way or the other. Louisa was being very understanding, or perhaps she preferred to pretend the whole business hadn't happened. Anyway, she did not press Caroline for a decision or information, assuming that she would eventually agree to an annulment and move on with her life.

But Caroline didn't feel like moving anywhere, limbo was fine with her for now. She sat in the drawing room by the window, doing some needlework. Louisa came in, obviously preparing to go out.

"The Bennets sent us a note saying they've come to town. They're a few days early; Mrs. Bennet is probably worried about a catch like Charles getting away." Caroline smiled at her sister's remark, but didn't reply. "We are invited to lunch at the Gardeners' tomorrow - in Cheapside!" Caroline nodded but continued to work without looking up. "Anyway, I was going to drop in on the Harwoods this afternoon, Caroline. Why don't you come along? It will do you good to get out."

"Not just yet, Louisa. But give my love to Karen, Danielle, and Cindy"

"It's Daniella and Cynthia since their coming out ball last month. Really, the way some people put on airs! I will give them your best, but you will accompany me to the Gardeners tomorrow, won't you? I really don't want to face a roomful of Bennets alone."

"Yes, Charles' might be hurt if I didn't go."

"You will?" Louisa was surprised. "Even though Mrs. Bennet will probably go on and on about Miss Eliza's engagement to Mr. Darcy? I still can't believe she stole him away from us."

"Don't worry, Louisa, I will weather it just fine. Miss Eliza has been the least of my worries lately. And she was Mr. Darcy's choice; after all he's done for us, surely we can't begrudge him that."

"True, but we don't have to be happy about it."

Charles was ushered into Mr. Darcy's study, once again hoping his friend could help him out of his family's current unpleasant situation.

"Caroline won't budge, Darcy. She claims she never wants to see Wickham again, yet she refuses to even consider an annulment! I will never understand women!"

"Perhaps she will reconsider when Wickham takes you up on your offer. It might be easier to give him up when she realizes how easily he gave her up. Any news on that end?"

"So far the solicitors haven't been able to locate the man. He hasn't been seen at the boarding house or hanging around Grosvenor Street for days."

"If I know Wickham, he'll show up when he needs money."

"The waiting is killing me! I'm to be married in three weeks, I want this settled and done! Poor Jane, I've been neglecting her terribly. She arrived yesterday and I haven't even seen her yet!"

He paced into the corner of the room near the door just as it opened, hiding Charles in its shadow. Wickham burst in, followed closely by the butler.

"I'm sorry, sir. He pushed past me before I could..." stammered the servant.

"It's all right, Michell. That will be all." The butler took his time bowing, to assure himself that his master was in no danger, then backed out of the room and closed the door. Charles was about to make his presence known when Darcy waved him off with a gesture.

"Wickham, you've got your nerve showing up here. Have you so easily forgotten our last conversation?"

"No, I remember quite well. And you can relax - I made sure Georgiana and her watchdog were well away from the house before I made my appearance, so unless I'm mistaken, my life is still my own."

"Such as it is. Well, as long as you are here, I should tell you that Mr. Bingley has authorized me to act on his behalf. He is prepared to give you 5000 pounds if you'll agree..."

"Save it, Darcy - that's not why I'm here. I have something to say to you and I just want to get it over with and leave."

"Get to your point then, say it."

George brought himself up to full height, took a deep breath and held it, as if considering what to say next.

"I would like to apologize to you and Georg - Miss Darcy - for any hurt and grief I may have caused in the past by my less than gentlemanly behaviour." Then he exhaled in relief. Both Darcy and Charles stood with their mouths hanging open for a moment, before Darcy recovered himself.

"Are you serious?"

"Never more in my life."

"And now we are supposed to pretend like it never happened?"

"No, but I don't know what else to do. Darcy, I'm desperate to get Caroline back and this was the best I could come up with."

Darcy just looked at him like he'd lost his mind. Charles took a step further back, considering what the man said.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to be in love with a woman who despises you?"

"I might have an inkling, yes."

"She's ruined me, I mean totally ruined me, for anything but her! I've tried to put her out of my mind, but she won't go. My usual means to get over... disappointments... don't work at all! I tried drinking, it doesn't help. Neither would womanizing - the thought of so much as kissing any woman other than Caroline makes me sick to my stomach - but I suppose that could be the drink, too... I don't even enjoy gambling anymore, and I've been winning!" He threw a stack of bank notes on top of Darcy's desk.

"What's that?" Darcy demanded.

"The 3,000 pounds you gave me in lieu of the living. There was more, but I had to pay off Caroline's necklace, and Mrs. Younge. Oh - and I bought Caroline a present."

"You don't expect me to hand over the Kympton living to you?"

"Bless me, no! Although the way Caroline's left me, I'd be no worse off as a clergyman - and a celibate one at that!"

"Keep your money," Darcy looked at him in disgust. "You are pitiful!"

"Thanks for the encouragement," Wickham said glibly, as he pocketed the bills again. "I'm open to suggestions."

"You have the nerve to ask me for suggestions when not so long ago you tried to seduce Georgiana for her inheritance?"

"I know. That was wrong of me, and again, I am sorry."

"Then you turn around and do the same thing to my best friend's sister! Don't try to deny that you married Caroline for her money!"

"Yes, I married Caroline for her money, she knew that, too - but she married me anyway! She had her reasons, I don't know what they were, but I'm grateful for them. Afterward, the money didn't matter to me - it still doesn't. We had three days of heaven, then - it's like my soul got ripped out when she left. Charles can keep the money - all of it - I just want Caroline back."

"And if she doesn't want you?"

"Then I'll be grateful for those three days for the rest of my life, but I'll live and die a miserable man."

"Well, she DOESN'T want you back!" spit Charles, coming forward from the back of the room. Wickham had just reminded him that his three days of heaven had given Charles' three days, and more, of hell. "She wants the marriage annulled!" George turned at the sound of Charles' voice, and at the word annulled, Darcy saw the man visibly flinch, as if he'd been shot.

"Caroline wants nothing more to do with you," Charles continued. "I'm willing to pay you 5,000 pounds to end this farce of a marriage."

Now it was George's turn to recovered himself. He locked eyes with Charles, then calmly asked, "Say again?"

"I said I will give you 5,000 pounds if you agree to an annulment."

"Not that, before that."

"Caroline wants nothing to do with you and wants an annulment," repeated Charles, getting frustrated. Couldn't this man hear properly?

George stood taller, smiled and said, "You're lying, Bingley."

"I beg your pardon!" Charles was taken aback. No one had accused him of lying since University.

"Oh, I believe you about Caroline wanting nothing to do with me, and that you'd be willing to part with 5,000 pounds to get rid of me - not on your life, by the way. But you're lying about Caroline wanting an annulment." Charles and Darcy just stared at the man. "I play cards and lately I've been on a winning streak and you, sir, are bluffing. She hasn't agreed to an annulment - not yet."

Taking a letter out of his pocket, he turned and handed it to Darcy.

"Please do me the honor of giving this letter of apology to your sister, whenever you see fit. I assure you, I mean every word of it." He bowed to both men. "Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure," he said, then abruptly left the room, praying that his luck would hold.

"Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, it's good to see you again," Elizabeth greeted the Bingley sisters at the door of her uncle's Gracechurch Street home.

"We are to share a brother and sister soon, Miss Bennet. Please call me Caroline." Elizabeth's face betrayed a hint of puzzlement for an instant before she replied in kind.

"And you may both call me Elizabeth."

"Thank you. And let me also congratulate you on your engagement to Mr. Darcy. I'm sure you will be very happy together," Caroline meant it, but she watched Elizabeth's eyes arch, and look for signs of insincerity. She also saw a confused look on Louisa's face, as if she had just heard her sister speaking Greek. Louisa didn't know what had come over Caroline to make her so amiable to Miss Eliza, but she followed her sister's suit.

"Yes, please accept my good wishes as well, Elizabeth. And call me Louisa."

Elizabeth led them into the parlor, where Jane stood to greet them and completed the introductions.

"Louisa, Caroline, I'd like you to meet my aunt, Mrs. Gardener, and you know my mother and sisters, Mary, Catherine, and Lydia. And these are our good friends Miss Brenda and Charlotte Alyson, and Miss Susan and Anita Lewis, my Aunt Gardener's neighbors. Lizzy and I have known them all our lives. Ladies, I'd like to introduce you to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, my fiancé's sisters."

Niceties were exchanged, and then, as expected, Mrs. Bennet started to extol the virtues her second eldest daughter's conquest. She ended with: "And the congratulations have been pouring in for our Lizzy, from all of our friends and neighbors."

"And all the officers, too," added Lydia.

"...except for Mr. Wickham," corrected Kitty. Caroline paled a bit, and lowered her eyes to her ring.

"Yes, poor Mr. Wickham was called to town about a week ago on urgent family business," confided Mrs. Bennet. As Caroline stared at her ring, as if far away, Louisa shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"Oh?" said Elizabeth, "I was under the impression he had no family left."

"He had an aunt who died recently," Caroline said before she could stop herself. In panic she looked at Louisa, who looked back at her, fit to be tied. Louisa was going to kill her. Get your wits about you, Caroline! she said to herself. Remember, you can be clever, if you stop mooning over snakes.

"I didn't realize you knew Mr. Wickham so well." Elizabeth looked very interested.

"Mr. Wickham was kind enough to escort Caroline home when she took ill last week," Jane said helpfully. Jane loved to be useful.

Elizabeth arched an eye significantly, Louisa looked mortified, and Caroline, rallying herself for misdirection, chose to ignore Jane's last remark.

"Perhaps I spoke out of turn, Elizabeth. I'm sure your younger sisters know more than I about the comings and goings of the Meryton officers." Her remark had struck home. Elizabeth glared at her, Mrs. Bennet nodded in agreement, and Kitty and Lydia looked flattered for the complement.

"Oh yes," said Lydia happily, "I do recall Denny mentioning something about an aunt of Mr. Wickham's dying, but that was before Christmas. You have a good memory, Miss Bingley!"

"Not as good as it should be!" muttered Louisa under her breath, just loud enough for Caroline to hear. Caroline was quite pleased with her little victory, but she did her sister the courtesy of lowering her eyes and trying to look embarrassed.

"Maybe Mr. Wickham has come into some money!" Lydia said wishfully. "Then he'd be quite the catch, wouldn't he, Kitty?"

"Oh, yes!" Kitty agreed, "Wouldn't it be nice if his aunt had left him a fortune!"

Caroline unconsciously started fingering her necklace. She had considered sending the jewelry back to George but never had. At first it pleased her that she held his fortune when he had sought to claim hers. Then she thought she should send the set back to him because he probably had nothing else to live on, and being without them might make him all the more anxious to accept Charles' offer of money to end the marriage. In the end, she kept them, because she was afraid - that he might be happy to have them back without her, and that thought was too painful for her to bear.

She looked up to see Louisa eying her suspiciously, and it occurred to her that she had never told Louisa about the gifts George had given her; she hadn't really told Louisa anything. But Louisa knew every piece of jewelry that Caroline owned, and she would know that these were new. She could already tell that Louisa had figured out where the ruby set had come from. Caroline put her hand down and looked away, only to see Elizabeth looking from her to Louisa and back again. Great, thought Caroline, this is going to be the longest luncheon of my life!

She was saved from further scrutiny by the arrival of Georgiana Darcy and her companion, Mrs. Annesley. Elizabeth's aunt welcomed them back to her home; apparently Mr. Darcy had brought the ladies on a visit to the Gardeners prior to the rest of the Bennets' arrival in town - undoubtedly a smart move on Mr. Darcy's part.

Lunch was served shortly thereafter, and the meal was much better than Caroline had expected, considering the location. And she had to admit that Mrs. Gardener's manners were much better than Mrs. Bennet's. If it weren't for so many Bennets about the place, Caroline could almost forget that they were in Cheapside. The conversation, of course, revolved around the two engagements and the wedding plans, and soon both Jane and Elizabeth were called on by their mother to display their rings. Elizabeth had a lovely emerald ring that had belonged to Mr. Darcy's mother; Jane's ring held a stunning diamond that Charles had recently had reset from a ring that had belonged to their mother.

"You have a beautiful ring, too, Miss Bingley," observed Mary. "Do you prefer rubies, then?"

"Thank you." Caroline blushed slightly and glanced at Louisa, who was again looking at her with displeasure. "I used to be quite fond of them."

"Really?" said Louisa, with a hint of scolding in her voice, "I would have thought, after all that's happened, that you'd want nothing more to do with them." Most of the ladies gave Louisa a puzzled look; what was so wrong with rubies?

Caroline lowered her eyes and said quietly, "I said used to, Louisa." She could feel Elizabeth's eyes upon her. She, for one, would know they weren't talking about gems. Caroline felt an awful panic, like she was exposed to the whole room. Why had she ever agreed to come? Would she have to be this guarded for the rest of her life? She had been prepared to live her life in limbo, but not to live it as a lie. She suddenly felt very overwhelmed and sick to her stomach.

"Are you all right, Caroline?" asked Jane, who had noticed her go pale.

"No, Jane, I'm not. Louisa, would you mind terribly if we went home now?"

"I think that would be for the best," answered Louisa, still a bit miffed. "You obviously aren't over your... illness. Jane could you please have our carriage called?" Within minutes they were on their way back to Grosvenor Street.

Louisa had done little more than glare at Caroline all the way home. Once inside the house, she told her to go up to her room and 'Take those things off!' like she was wearing something scandalous. Caroline was in no mood to argue, she was in the mood to sulk, so she stalked up to her room.

Once there she noticed a small gift box wrapped in ribbon sitting on her dressing table. Caroline called her maid in.

"Sofie, do you know where this box came from?"

"No, Ma'am. It must have come while you were out."

"It's odd that Jarett would have it sent up here instead of leaving it on the hall table with the rest of the deliveries. Oh." Caroline noticed the card and recognized the writing, it was from George. She quickly glanced around the room as if expecting to see him there. He wasn't.

"That will be all. Thank you, Sofie," Caroline quickly dismissed her and opened the box. Inside was a ruby bracelet with stones similar to those on her necklace and ring. Although the setting was not quite the same as her set, the design was close enough that they could easily be worn together. She put it on her wrist, then read the card.

It's not a perfect match, but complementary. They suit, as we do. I miss you. Please see me. G.

Caroline glanced up as a shadow moved out from behind her bureau. It was George.

"How did you get in?" she asked in a voice much calmer than she felt.

"The side door, it's rarely used between nine and four o'clock. Of course this week it and the rest of the house have been impossible to get near without being seen - Hurst doesn't pay his staff nearly enough. Today I got lucky and was able to get in unnoticed."

They stood staring at each other for what seemed like hours, it was actually only a few seconds, when someone knocked on the door. It was Charles.

"Caroline, may I come in?" George stepped back into the shadows.

"Yes, come in Charles," Caroline replied, still staring at George. Charles came in and stood, convieniently, with his back to George.

"I thought you'd like to know - Wickham was at Darcy's today."

"Oh?" This was the moment she had been fearing. Despite his sweet words on the card, and the fact that he was here, she still couldn't trust him. "So the steward's son can still come on command when the master calls?"

"It wasn't like that, Caroline. We hadn't been able to locate him. He came on his own."

"And did he find your terms agreeable? Tell me, what's the going rate these days for breaking eternal vows?" George winced.

"He didn't come to make a deal, he wouldn't even consider it. You were right about him not doing the obvious. He actually went to Darcy's to apologize."

"To you?"

"No, to Darcy and Miss Darcy, but she wasn't there. To me, it seemed like money was the furthest thing from his mind."

Caroline was dumbfounded.

"Don't misunderstand me, we did make him an offer, more than a reasonable amount under the circumstances, but he refused it. He even offered to give up your inheritance."

"That's very generous of him," she said, glaring into the shadows, "Considering it's my money. In exchange for what?"

"For you. He's mad about you."

"He must have been very confident."

"Not at all, or at least not until the end."

There was another knock at the door. "

"Excuse me, Mr. Bingley?" said the housekeeper through the door.

"Yes, what is it, Mrs. Karalou?" he answered.

"There seems to be a circus going on in front of the house, sir."

"A circus? What now?" Charles and Caroline both went to the front window to look out. Sure enough, there were circus people performing tricks on the street in front of the house.

"What else can go wrong today?" Charles muttered. "Caroline, we'll have to talk later."

"Isn't that the troupe of acrobats from the matinee?" Caroline asked after Charles had left. George came out of hiding and looked over her shoulder.

"Yes, the Jendini Brothers, but they don't have another show until five o'clock." He turned her around and pulled her to him in an embrace.

"Are they here to get my attention?" Caroline asked, "Or are you simply using them as a diversion?"

"Both. Is it working?"

She looked down. "Did you really apologize to Georgiana?"

"Not directly. Darcy made it clear some time ago that if I ever came near his sister again, he'd kill me. He may be a fool, but he's a man of his word. I waited for Georgiana to go out before I called. Darcy didn't believe me, but I left a letter of apology for Miss Darcy anyway. If I know Darcy, he will eventually give it to her, when he thinks the time is right."

"And you were willing to give up my inheritance for me?"

"Luv, I'd give up the world for you."

"Then what would you expect us to live on?"

"I had faith that Charles wouldn't let you or your no-good husband starve. But don't worry, it didn't come to that. The subject was dropped, and I left as soon as I learned you weren't willing to give me up, either. Is that true?"

"Well, I couldn't very well let you loose on any other unsuspecting, wealthy young ladies."

"You won't have to worry about that anymore."

She looked up. "No more heiresses?"

"No more heiresses. One is more than enough for me." He brushed a stray hair away from her face and looked deeply into her eyes. "Caroline, would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

She paused to consider, then smiled and nodded her agreement. He scooped her into is arms and swung her around the room as he gave her a quick kiss. Then setting her down again, he kissed her again, one of those long, loving kisses that she liked so much. She sighed; it had been a long time.

"Let's have a proper honeymoon!" George said when he finally let her go. "Come to Bath with me - right now - I've got a carriage waiting."

"Just run off again? Louisa would never forgive me, and Charles' wedding is in three weeks!"

"We'll be back at Netherfield in plenty of time for the wedding, and I'll smooth it over with Louisa - we'll send her a big fruit basket or something - she'll come around. I've got your bag in the carriage, we'll buy whatever else we need - come on, be daring."

"But I haven't enough money on hand for a holiday in Bath, and I won't give up my jewels!" she warned, protectively clasping her necklace.

"You won't have to - it's on me," he showed her some bills. "I've got more than enough to tide us over."

She thought for a moment, smiled, then started throwing a few things together. They snuck out the side door, and ran down the street to the corner. Charles, who had been out front trying to reason with the acrobats as they performed, caught a glimpse of them, stopped trying to negotiate, and ran after the fleeing couple. He managed to catch up to them as they reached the carriage, caught Caroline's hand and held it.

She turned back and put her hand on her brother's shoulder. "It's alright, Charles, we're going to Bath for our honeymoon. We'll be back in Meryton for your wedding."

"Are you sure about this?" He glanced at George, who stood a bit away and tried to look as respectable as one could when one was running away with another man's sister.

"Very sure, this time."

"And I can expect you for the wedding?"

"I promise. Give my best to Jane, and try to make Louisa understand."

He looked from one to the other, sighed in resignation, and kissed Caroline on forehead. "I'll try," he said. Then to George, "If you ever do anything - and I mean anything - to make her unhappy..."

"I know," George finished for him, "you'll kill me. Don't worry - I've learned the consequences of disappointing your sister. It won't happen again."

"Good bye, Charles!" Caroline exclaimed as she climbed into the waiting coach. "We'll see you in three weeks."

Charles watched them drive off and smiled, at least until he remembered he still would have to explain it to Louisa. He let out a long sigh, turned around, leaned against a convenient tree, and watched the acrobats. It seemed like the more pleasant thing to do at the moment.

George had spared no expense this time; he had hired a driver and a comfortable coach to take them to Bath. Inside Caroline settled happily into his arms. It was nice not to be in limbo anymore, she was a married woman again, and wasted no time in planning their future.

"You will have to resign from the militia now, George," she said. "I would prefer to settle in London and the military is so transient."

"Whatever you want, Caroline," he agreed.

"But you still will need something to occupy your time," she laughed as he started nuzzling her neck, "besides me, that is." In a more serious tone she added, "I don't mean cards, either - and I won't have you lying about the house getting fat like Mr. Hurst."

"Perish the thought, Luv," George assured her, as he started working his way down toward to her shoulder.

"And we must think of bettering the family's position," she continued, turning herself to better accommodate her husband's obvious intentions. "Charles and Mr. Hurst are fairly stationary in their standing, so it will be up to us. Tell me, my love, have you ever considered going into politics? I have a feeling it's something you would be very good at!"

He sat up a bit, giving her suggestion almost his full attention. "You think?"

"I know, intimately."

"Quite intimately," he echoed, and started again where he had left off, while Caroline continued informing him of her plans.

"And when we get to Netherfield you will have to talk to Charles - about settling the money matters."

"I suppose."

"Our solicitor in town will probably need to see the marriage license."

He sighed and said, "I've got it right here." He shifted Caroline a bit, reached into the pocket of his discarded coat, and pulled out a piece of paper. "This is it: For the marriage of Mr. George Wickham and Miss Caroline Bingby."

"Bingby? What do you mean Bingby?!" exclaimed Caroline in alarm.

"It's down here as Caroline Bingby. It's an understandable mistake, there are lots of Bingby's around those parts you know," he said innocently, then made to put the paper back in his pocket.

"Let me see that! If it says Bingby we might not be married!" She grabbed the license away from him, read it carefully, then smiled while slapping his arm, and said, "You snake!"

George gave her his most charming grin, "I won't tell if you won't."

{DNA: If any "extra" appearing in this production would prefer not to be in it, you have my humble apology. Please let me know and I'll remove you. Thanks, RitaH. RA}

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© 2002 Copyright held by the author.