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Caroline was about to dismiss the statement out of hand when she was struck by a memory of her family before she had been sent away to school, and before her parents and eldest brother had died so unexpectedly.

The six of them had been sitting down to Sunday dinner, a warm, happy, companionable group.

Her father and Arthur had enthused about some new invention that promised to make the brakes on a landau more reliable, even as her mother had tutted Charles over feeding his new puppy tidbits under the table (though she never went so far as to order the dog out of the room).

Caroline and Louisa had been talking about bonnets, but it had not been long before the whole family was drawn into the conversation about carriages.

It had seemed so important… and she recalled how they had laughed contemptuously that some gentlemen would spend so much on curricles with such enormous wheels that they were fundamentally unstable, and then complain when they tipped over. Such ignorance!

Without much thought, Miss Bingley began to relate the memory to Mrs. Bullock and that good lady nodded and encouraged her to speak of others.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon in this manner, and the feeling of frantic desperation that had loomed over Caroline since her debut diminished slightly.

That is not to say that her character underwent any great sea change; she would always be a vain, self-centered woman.

However, her native intelligence was combined with a rather cynical sense of humor and with these, she began to perceive how her position in the world was largely a matter of chance.

Of course, this line of thought led her back to considering her present situation. The Season was nearly at an end and a summer of lonely days in a hot, stuffy apartment in London was unappealing, to say the least.

“But what should I do? Everyone who is anyone is leaving London for the country! I have received no invitations, and I cannot very well show up on someone’s doorstep!” cried Miss Bingley.

Mrs. Bullock chose not to point out that, had Caroline any true friends, she might have been welcomed to do exactly that.

Instead, she attempted to guide her charge toward a more positive line of thinking.

“Is there not someplace you have always wished to see? You are wealthy and independent—you answer to no one, a claim that few men and even fewer women can make.”

Caroline’s brow wrinkled and she stared at her companion for some time as if trying to decipher a foreign language.

Mrs. Bullock merely continued sipping her tea and let her charge puzzle it out.

Eventually, the younger lady responded, speaking more slowly than was her usual want, “I suppose I could go to Bath… there are always parties and dances there. But it is so close to the Hurst estate—I would be mortified if Louisa thought I had come to beg an invitation,” she ended sourly.

Seeing no encouragement in Mrs. Bullock’s expression, she attempted to conjure another possibility.

“Mr. Darcy sent his sister to Ramsgate a few summers ago; I know nothing about the place except that it is on the seaside, but if the Darcys consider it of interest, then it would not do my reputation any harm to be seen there.”

Mrs. Bullock put her teacup down so forcefully that Caroline feared the saucer might crack.

“Miss Bingley, I shall be frank. Your reputation is severely strained and, while I believe that your family will eventually accept your company again, they currently require separation. I would recommend the same strategy for Society; give the wagging tongues adequate time to forget your recent… antics.”

Caroline demonstrated that she still had the capacity to blush. When she finally spoke again, it was in a much smaller voice. “But what can I do? If I spend much more time in these rooms, I shall be fit for Bedlam!” She did not dare add that she feared her brother might be glad to commit her.

Mrs. Bullock raised her teacup to her lips again before remarking casually, “The Culpepper twins called this morning while you were out. They have decided to tour Italy, Greece and Egypt now that Napoleon has been safely exiled; they wondered if we might like to join them.” Although her voice was dispassionate, there was a twinkle in her eye that increased each time Miss Bingley opened and closed her mouth without managing to form any words.

When Caroline was finally able to speak, she sputtered, “Italy? But… that is on the continent !”

“Yes, Miss Bingley; you are quite right—Italy is indeed on the continent,” answered her companion in the voice of a governess teaching a geography lesson, but with a whiff of humor.

“They plan to spend at least a month in Rome to see Saint Peter’s Basilica, the Coliseum, and various other sites, and then follow that with some time spent viewing the ancient ruins in Athens, and perhaps Cairo.

Can you imagine?” Mrs. Bullock let a whisper of wonderment trickle into her voice.

Caroline’s eyelashes were fluttering rapidly as she attempted to take in such a concept. “I… I’d never… I’d never considered…” Abruptly she stood and went to stand at the window, staring out but seeing nothing.

In the end, she decided to go. Miss Bingley began planning the next four weeks of shopping and packing with a rare passion, while Mrs. Bullock retired to her room with a sigh, delighted to finally have something positive to include in her weekly report to Mr. Bingley.