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WHEN CAROLINE RETURNED home, her sister Louisa was not the least bit pleased that she had left the house and been gone all day.

They had a long discussion, in which Louisa went on and on about how much responsibility it was to look after Caroline, and how Caroline herself seemed to have no interest in looking after herself and that Louisa didn’t see anything for it but to send her back to the country with their brother.

Caroline could have explained that things had been quite dire in the Darcy household, that she had been needed and necessary and told all of the Darcy secrets. But she was too loyal to Elizabeth to do that. She went to bed in a state of hopelessness.

She had seen the colonel at the Darcy house, but he had been a different man than the man she’d met the night before at the ball.

He’d been practically lupine, moving here and there with graceful force, like a sleek predator, all of his disposition tending towards a lethal graveness.

He had noticed her, but when she fell into his gaze, it was assessing.

He wished to ascertain whether she was safe or not.

Finding her so, he turned his attentions to his cousin and wife, and finding them all right, he had been mostly concerned with the younger girls, Lydia and Georgiana.

He had spoken with them both, his voice quiet, his expression grim.

And then, he’d left.

And she’d left.

He’d only spoken to her enough to say that he was quite glad she was all right and to express his gratitude for her assistance that day.

If Louisa was certain to send her back to the country, would she even see the colonel before she went?

She could not send him a letter or anything, of course, because it was not proper for a single woman to converse with a man in that way.

She could send one surreptitiously to his house, though she understood he was currently staying with his mother, which would be risky, she thought, for what if the servants spoke of it to his mother or what if his mother intercepted the communication, and Caroline did not think the countess would approve of her.

She resolved that she would get Elizabeth’s help to communicate with him if she did not see him before her departure. That was likely the best way to go about it, after all.

And then, she slept.

She was gratified and surprised and quite pleased when he called upon her on the morrow, however.

Obviously, she and the colonel could not be left alone during his call, so Louisa sat in with them in the sitting room as he came in and sat with her.

She wondered which colonel this would be. The wolflike colonel, ready to pounce on anything that might threaten his loved ones? Or the jocular, witty man from the night before, who—even so—had the ability to wield his words like knives?

“You’re looking quite well today, madam,” he said, gazing at her steadily. “I hope you have been well since we last saw each other.”

“Indeed, sir,” she said. “I have been quite well. I hope you are in good health also.”

“Ah, well, as good as can be expected, given what we were dealing with yesterday. I am concerned and worried for my cousin Miss Darcy, of course, and I don’t take it well that Mr. Wickham is running free and wild.”

Louisa spoke up. “What happened yesterday? Caroline, you told me none of this.”

The colonel lifted his chin, looking her over, and he smiled. “Didn’t you, then.”

Caroline shook her head.

The colonel nodded at her. “I see, then. I see quite what you’re made of when it comes to it, Miss Bingley.

That speaks well of you.” He turned to Louisa.

“Mrs. Hurst, there was a family situation yesterday that could have proved very dire, but thanks to your sister and Mrs. Darcy, it was mitigated. We really could not have done it without their quick thinking.”

Caroline liked that he was praising her, but she thought it was more down to the fact that Mr. Darcy hadn’t had the letter from Lydia.

On the other hand, the colonel had known about the letter from Lydia, and he hadn’t thought of the boarding house, either, so perhaps it was her and Elizabeth’s good sense that had brought it all about.

“Well, I had no notion, Caroline,” said Louisa. “Really, as I was going on yesterday, saying that you were behaving like a spoiled child and that I could not have you here underfoot if you were going to play girlish games like that, you could have stopped me.”

“Does this mean you won’t send me to the country, then?” said Caroline.

Louisa huffed.

“I’d be most grateful if you’d keep her in town,” spoke up the colonel in a resonant voice. “But if I must chase you to the ends of the earth, I would not mind, I suppose. What part of the country are you going to be sent off to?”

“I would not say that I was going to ‘send you off,’” said Louisa.

“Hertfordshire,” said Caroline.

“Well, that’s not too far,” said the colonel with a smile.

She smiled back.

“We shall quite make this work, Miss Bingley,” said the colonel. “At least, until you indicate to me that you’re no longer interested, of course, in which case I shall cease and desist.”

“I am very interested,” said Caroline.

“Excellent,” said the colonel.

And then, it all proceeded at a rather breakneck speak that left her nearly breathless.

Within a week, she was being invited to tea with his mother, which she knew was an important step in all of this.

She must get the countess on her side or else the entire courtship would be all the more difficult.

Luckily, Elizabeth contrived to get herself invited to the tea, and she said that they would simply make Caroline look like the picture of perfection next to Elizabeth, who was so woefully wanting in every way.

Caroline tried to tell her friend she did not need to sacrifice for her in that way, for she needed to have a good relationship with the countess as well, but Elizabeth said that the damage was already done, and she didn’t care, anyway, because they were all going to Pemberley soon, Lydia included, because she and Georgiana had formed a fast friendship and were not keen to be separated.

“You don’t mind, do you?” said Elizabeth. “You don’t need me here to do anymore matchmaking, after all.”

“What are you going to do in the country? The Season is just getting underway. It’s the strangest time to leave.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Things,” she said vaguely.

Anyway, the tea with the countess went well enough, since the countess was quite distracted by the specter of Elizabeth’s shortcomings, and then, only days later, the colonel proposed, and she accepted, and then the plans for the wedding were happening.

The first time the colonel kissed her, Caroline was too astonished that it was even happening to know what to do with herself. She went entirely still, kept her eyes wide open, and froze there, and the colonel’s face loomed large in front of her wide-open eyes. (His were closed.)

He pulled away almost immediately, color flooding his face, and sputtered some sort of apology, and she felt absolutely wretched.

She sputtered something back, denying his apology. “You must not say that, sir. You only startled me, you see. We must… may we… try it again?”

They were alone together in a sitting room in her sister’s house.

Now that they were engaged, being alone was permitted, but they likely would not be alone for long, she knew, because Louisa, proper chaperone that she was, would be back any moment to poke her head back in and announce her intrusion in a sing-song voice, her tone knowing and amused.

He rubbed the back of his neck, wordless, and nodded his assent. “Yes, of course. Try it again, then.” But then, he simply studied her features, his expression quite serious, and did not try again.

She twisted her fingers together and cringed.

“You, erm…” The colonel cleared his throat, casting his gaze up, over her head, at some spot in the distance. “You may not find me pleasing in that way. I am aware that I am not what might be termed, erm, handsome.” His voice had gotten lower and lower as he spoke.

“Of course you are!” she exclaimed, horrified he would say that. “Why, you’re much more handsome than I am.”

“What?” Now, he met her gaze again. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Well, there is a reason that I have been soundly ignored by all of London society for more than one Season, and I can’t say I rightly understand what it is about me that you are even drawn to.” Though he did seem drawn to her, and she could not deny that he behaved like a man in love.

“Oh, that’s a foolish thing to say,” he scoffed.

“What is it, then, about me?”

“I…” He squared his shoulders, furrowing his brow. “What is it about me? ”

She touched her chest. “What do I find pleasing about…?” She sputtered again. “You’re quite…”

“You see, it’s not that way, is it?” he said. “When one falls for someone else, one doesn’t know why, or one can’t articulate it, anyway. It’s not rational, it’s simply there .”

She felt herself soften. “Well, it is there, is it not?”

“Aye.” His voice was hoarse.

And then, when their lips came together, it was like they were drawn close by some force outside of themselves, and she felt weightless and free and cherished in his arms.

They kissed for too long.

They would have kept kissing forever, perhaps.

But Louisa interrupted them, tsking that they must cease that immediately. “Good things come to those who wait,” she cried in a bright and teasing voice.

And indeed, good things did indeed come to them, because now, every time he looked at her, every time his fingers brushed against her fingers or against her gloved arm, or even—occasionally, if he could manage it—the bare skin above her gloves, she felt that warm glow of the way the colonel cherished her.

It surrounded her, like a warm bubble, and it nourished some tender and bruised part of her soul.

Why was it?