Page 29 of The Marriage Game

Elizabeth was not surprised to find a letter from Meryton in her morning post.

Lizzy,

Lady Lucas tells me that the Morning Post says you had tea with the Queen! With the Queen!! And you cannot be bothered to give your sisters a little help? I do not know what I have done to have such an undeserving child!

Mama

Elizabeth knew she had to respond to the letter, but could not find the patience to do it just now. She tucked it away in her writing desk.

***

At Westmoreland House, Lord Fane read the message for the third time. He shook his head, unable and unwilling to believe its contents.

“What is it?” his sister enquired.

In response, he handed her the note.

Lord Fane,

I am unable to drive out with you today.

Miss Georgiana Darcy

“But why?” Agatha asked, returning the note.

“I cannot imagine!” was the unhappy response. “You were with me when we saw her yesterday; did she seem cool in any way?”

“Not at all! She was her usual gentle and delightful self!”

“Perhaps she is weary? She has already had quite a bit of activity. She may just need rest.”

But his sister shook her head. “The note would have said so. It is not like her to be so…” she searched for the right word.

“Brusque?” her brother supplied.

“Yes, brusque. I think there is something wrong.”

“You wished to go to Almack’s, did you not? We will go together, and perhaps between us we can learn what is behind this.”

***

The Colonel was breaking his fast at Matlock House when his mother joined him. He rose, seated her, and courteously prepared a plate for her: scrambled eggs with herbs, two slices of bacon, and a small apple tart.

“You are very polite this morning,” his mother observed.

“I hope I am always polite, Mother,” he replied.

“You are; which makes me all the more curious as to why you argued – again! – with Miss Bingley last night.”

The Colonel shook his head. Had he really thought his mother would drop the subject of Miss Bingley?

“Did you think I missed the byplay between the two of you at dinner?” the Countess demanded. “You spoke with her quite intensely, whispering together, and then she stared at you in some sort of shock, turned her head away, and never so much as glanced at you for the remainder of the evening. No, in fact, she spoke with Mr. Gardiner, a man I think she never so much as acknowledged in the whole of her life! Not that there is anything wrong with the Gardiners,” she allowed. “But what happened with Miss Bingley?”

The Colonel decided that a counter-attack was in order. “Why did you have me seated beside her?” he demanded. “You know how very much I dislike her!”

“That is precisely why,” the Countess declared. “You are the second son of an Earl, Richard. Your manners are expected to be impeccable! What does liking or disliking have to do with manners? I was giving you the opportunity to behave towards her as you should, and you quite evidently failed utterly!”

The Colonel sighed.

The Countess pressed on. “What on earth did you say to the poor girl?”

“The poor girl!” The Colonel scoffed. “As if her manners are any better than mine!”

“Her manners are not the point here; the aristocracy is required to demonstrate good manners to their inferiors. And, if I am honest, I thought her manners last night quite acceptable. She was properly dressed, and she entertained the company. She plays very well, you know, and blushed quite becomingly when I complimented her.”

The Colonel gave up; he knew when a retreat was in order. He spread his hands wide. “Yes, I was extremely and unpardonably rude. I have absolutely no idea what came over me.”

Really. A new idea blossomed in the Countess’ active mind. “Hmmm,” she murmured.

“And what does ‘hmmm’ mean, Mother?”

“You were unpardonably rude to her and you have no idea what came over you? Is that it?”

“Yes; what of it?”

The Countess stared at her son incredulously. Was she the only person in the family who recalled how the tumultuous courtship of Darcy and Elizabeth had begun? “Well, what will you do to make it up to her?”

“She asked for flowers for a week to make up for my insulting her at the ball; I cannot imagine what it would take for her to forgive my words at the dinner.”

“At least arrange to have flowers sent,” his mother advised him. “Lilies symbolize an apology, as do blue hyacinths. As for your words at dinner, well, I have an idea. I do not know if I can accomplish it or not, but I will try.”

And with those enigmatic words, the Countess bent her head to her breakfast.

***

A lovely bouquet of lilies arrived at Bingley House that afternoon, sent from the most expensive and exclusive florist in all of London. The card read:

Miss Bingley,

I cannot begin to tell you how very sorry I am.

I beg you to forgive me my many crimes!

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam

“Very pretty!” Jane enthused. “Who are they from?”

“No one of any consequence,” Caroline replied, mouth set in a hard line. She ripped the card in half and dropped the pieces on the nearest table. She turned to the footman in attendance. “Please give these to the kitchen staff.” She then left the room without anther word.

The footman was too well-trained to show any surprise; he took the flowers and left the room.

Jane said nothing, but the moment Caroline left the room, she picked up the two pieces of the card and read it. Colonel Fitzwilliam? What in the world had the man done to Caroline?

***

“You know full well that I cannot give a voucher to the daughter of a tradesman!” Lady Sefton was indignant.

“Come, Maria, you must recall that you gave a voucher to the daughter of that wool merchant you sponsored last Season!”

“That was not at all the same, Eleanor,” Maria Sefton retorted, nose in the air.

The Countess changed her tactics. “You are quite right, Maria. But I am rather desperate.”

“And why is that?”

The Countess lowered her voice. “I think my son, Richard, is developing a tendré for the lady.”

“And so? He can only court her at Almack’s?” Lady Sefton scoffed.

“No; he has shown his affection for her by insulting her grievously on two occasions; first at a ball, at which point she left him standing on the dance floor, and then at a private dinner, when she then turned away from him and spent the rest of the evening conversing with a merchant.”

Lady Sefton stared at the Countess for a long minute and then began to laugh. “Is it true that when Fitzwilliam Darcy first met his wife, he insulted her at a ball?”

“That is true, I regret to say! I suspect Richard is cut from the same cloth, and is desperately hoping to not be attracted to the young lady. She demanded flowers for a week to compensate for his first infraction, and he has no idea what would begin to compensate for the second.”

“So you think that if he presents her with a voucher to Almack’s, she might look kindly upon him,” Lady Sefton summarised. “And you are willing to let your son marry this tradesman’s daughter?”

“Maria, I have prayed for many years that Richard would find someone to marry and leave the Army; if this Miss Bingley is the answer to that prayer, than I would welcome her with open arms.”

“Has she money?”

“Twenty thousand pounds.”

Lady Sefton did the math in her head. “Eight hundred pounds per annum from the four percents…I suppose it is adequate.” She hesitated for a long minute before saying, “I cannot imagine what Lady Jersey will say. You will owe me a very large favour for agreeing to this, Eleanor.”

“And I will repay it at your pleasure, Maria.”

***

Later that day, the Countess found her son in the billiard room, practicing shots. He straightened up when his mother strode in. “Mother?”

“Richard, you must visit Miss Bingley tomorrow.”

The Colonel frowned. “I had no plans to see her.”

“But you do know that you owe her an apology, do you not?”

The Colonel allowed that he did. “And I recall that you had a plan of some sort,” he added.

“I have in my hand the means by which you will win her forgiveness.”

“And what would that be?”

She handed him a piece of stiff paper.

Ladies Voucher

ALMACKS

Delivery to

Miss Caroline Bingley

Tickets for the Balls

on the Wednesdays in 1815

And on the bottom right hand corner were the initials MS.

The Colonel gaped. “You got her a voucher to Almack’s?”

“I did. Heaven only knows what I will be required to do for Lady Sefton in order to repay this favour.” The Countess frowned mightily at her son.

“No doubt you will insist that I attend Almack’s whenever she attends and dance with her,” the Colonel complained.

“You are quite right.”

“I dislike Almack’s.”

“As do all gentlemen, but you must go to support Georgiana in any case,” his mother reminded him.

“That is true; does Georgiana have her voucher?”

“Yes, as does Elizabeth. Suggest to your Miss Bingley that she accompany the Darcys.”

He scowled at her. “Hardly my Miss Bingley.”

“As you say,” she said.

“I hate those enigmatic replies, Mother.”

“I know,” she said, smiling widely at him.

***

The following day saw the Colonel, blue hyacinths in hand, at Bingley House. He was admitted by the butler, who led him into the drawing room. Mrs. Bingley was sitting by the fire; she rose as he entered the room.

“Good afternoon, Colonel.”

“Mrs. Bingley, it is good to see you.”

Her blue eyes danced. “I do not imagine those flowers are for me.”

The Colonel immediately felt uncomfortable. Should he have brought flowers for Mrs. Bingley as well? Damn these social conventions!

Jane saw her visitor’s distress. “I apologise, Colonel. I am simply teasing you. I will have Caroline come down.” She pulled a cord, and asked the maid who answered it to have tea brought in and to tell Miss Bingley that she had a caller.

Caroline walked in. She wore a simple day gown of cream trimmed in green; the Colonel had to admit that she looked quite nice, and the cream made her red hair stand out. She entered with a smile, likely expecting one of her friends, but the smile turned into a frown when she saw him.

“Why are you here, Colonel?” she demanded. “I do not want your flowers; you may stop sending them.”

He walked to her and bowed. “No, you asked for flowers and you shall have them. And I have here my repentance for the terrible way I treated you at Darcy House.”

“There is nothing you could possibly –“ But she stopped when he put the stiff paper into her hand. She stared down at the paper and then looked up at him, wonder in her eyes. “But how?” she whispered.

“My mother.”

“The Countess got me a voucher?”

“She did.”

“Why?”

“Because she wanted you to forgive me,” he said, simply.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Caroline walked past him to sit on the sofa beside Mrs. Bingley. “Jane, look.”

Mrs. Bingley’s eyes opened wide as she looked at the voucher. “Almack’s! Heavens!”

The Colonel sat opposite the two ladies. “Miss Bingley, my mother suggested that you accompany the Darcys. Elizabeth and Georgiana have their vouchers as well.”

“I shall do so, as I am unlikely to know very many people there,” she replied.

“You will know me,” the Colonel said.

“You are going as well?”

“I will attend whenever you attend.”

Caroline tried to frown at him, but a smile kept threatening to break through. “You may recall that you promised never to dance with me again.”

“I have a terrible memory,” he said, confidingly. “I never recall such things.”

“May I write the Countess a note to thank her?”

“I think that would be appropriate,” he replied, gravely.

***

After dinner that evening, Mr. Bingley recalled the conversation he had had with the gentlemen at Darcy House. Should he tell Caroline the bad news about the Baron? She would be furious with him for telling her such a thing. Or should he let her marry the man and eventually find out for herself? But in that case she would be furious with him for not telling her. He scratched his head, wondering if there was any avenue that would not end up with his sister being furious with him.

Finally, he decided to toss the problem into Jane’s lap. This was more a woman’s area in any case, was it not?

“Of course she must be told!” Jane cried at once.

“Must she, though?” her husband countered. “Here we are on the verge of getting her married off; was that not what we wished for?”

“Yes, but not to a gambler! He does not want her, he wants her money!”

Mr. Bingley just looked stubborn.

Jane changed tactics. “Think, Charles. They would run through her twenty thousand pounds in a year or two, and then who would they come to for money?”

Sighing, Mr. Bingley looked at Jane hopefully. “You are right, Jane. She must be told.”

“And you want me to tell her,” Jane realised.

“It would be best coming from you, would it not?” Mr. Bingley asked, relief plain on his face.

“We will tell her together; after all, you heard the tale, not I.”

***

In the drawing room that evening, Jane began, “Caroline, your brother heard some rather unfortunate gossip about Lord Russell that you should be aware of.”

“There is always gossip about the aristocracy, Jane,” Caroline shot back at once. “We must not listen to it!”

“I think we should if that particular aristocrat is seeing a good deal of our sister,” Jane countered.

Caroline acknowledged the wisdom of that; Lord Russell had visited several times and had taken her on drives in the park. Caroline had heard a good deal about his horses, his properties, and his family tree. “Very well; what is it?”

Jane looked at her husband, who said, “Darcy says the man is a gambler, and the Earl of Matlock says that he is so deep in debt that he must marry a fortune.”

Caroline stared at her brother for a moment. “The Earl said that?”

“Yes; I have no reason to doubt his words.”

Caroline stared at her feet.

“Were we right to tell you, dear Caroline?” Jane asked, her voice warm with concern.

“Yes, of course. I have no wish to marry a gambler.” Her voice was flat.

“There is still that very nice Mr. Lindsay,” Jane said.

“Yes, I do like him, though he is but a second son.”

“And possibly Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Jane added.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam?” Caroline’s eyes went wide. “You must be joking, Jane. The Colonel is the last man on earth that I would ever marry!”

***

That night, Caroline thought long and hard about what she had learnt about the Baron. Mrs. Annesley had been right; if a gentleman goes on and on about himself and his possessions, he is not interested in learning about the young lady. He has another goal in mind. There could be no doubt that his goal was Caroline’s twenty thousand pounds.

Mr. Lindsay was a very nice man, and Caroline liked him, but he was rather dull compared with the Colonel – wait, was she comparing Mr. Lindsay with the Colonel? How had the Colonel entered her thoughts?

She turned over, determined to put all of it out of her mind and get some sleep.