Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

London - December 31, 1814

Caroline Bingley nervously sat before her looking glass while her maid finished her hair. Tonight was the New Years Eve Ball in honor of her upcoming marriage to Colonel Sir John Buford given by her brother and sister at Bingley House in London. Mixed with her joy and anxiety was a bit of weariness, for she had just undergone the most trying four and twenty months in her life. Everything she was taught to believe as true had turned out to assure her of nothing but pain.

Her late father, embarrassed of his position in life, worked hard so that his children would not. He succeeded in improving his situation, at the cost of his relationship with those he sacrificed his health for. His wife, accepting his goals but resentful of his attentions to business, pined so much during his frequent absences that a fairly mild influenza finally took her to her reward. Unprepared to raise his family himself, he sent them to the finest schools in the land, where they were taught many things, some useful and some not, but love of a parent was not one of them. What interaction he did have with his progeny in his last years, before overwork drove him to his grave, consisted of exhorting them to embrace their hard-won gentility. There was nothing so wonderful as being among the highest members of the London ton. But he taught his children ill; all he saw was the outward appearances of respectability - he had no appreciation for the hard work and duty that a truly responsible gentleman must engage in.

Charles Bingley was fortunate - among the first he met at school was a remarkable older student from Derbyshire. Fitzwilliam Darcy was attracted to the open goodness of his new young schoolmate and they soon became fast friends. Louisa and Caroline were not as lucky. Quickly falling into the society of such as Annabella Adams they learned all that was correct and fashionable but none that was kind. They perfected the art of the cutting remark and the snide aside, and developed a taste for gossip. At least Caroline had taken her studies seriously; while never a great reader, she found a natural affinity for math and music. Caroline took pride in this; for the mistress of a great estate must both manage and entertain.

For a great estate was the Bingley sisters' lifetime goal. The only way to forever bury their roots in trade was to marry into a family of some consequence. Louisa was able to attract the attentions of a Mr. Hurst, a man of small estate and less sense. Caroline looked higher. If she needed a husband of respectability, who could fill that requirement better than Fitzwilliam Darcy? He was everything she had been taught to look for in a match - estate, fortune, fashionable manners, good taste and single. That he was handsome was very agreeable. That love might enter into the situation never crossed Caroline's mind.

For almost three years Caroline labored to attach herself to Mr. Darcy and Pemberley. All would end in failure on the summer night at Pemberley when Mr. Darcy responded to her ill-judged attack on Elizabeth Bennet with the declaration that, "…for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintances." In her room that evening Caroline wept in rage and frustration, her dreams shattered. Caroline was denied her rightful place by a mere country girl; a chit with no family or fortune to recommend her. Eliza wasn't even as pretty as her sister Jane, who had bewitched Charles. The unfairness of it all almost consumed Caroline.

When Caroline found herself six months later sitting in a Meryton church on a December morning watching the double ceremony, she had by that time reconciled herself to the unions - at least to her brother's. It was too soon to forgive Elizabeth Bennet. But who could not like Jane? She would prove to be a loving partner to Charles, and that counted for something. Later she would also prove to be a good mistress of Netherfield (which put Caroline out of a job) and an attentive mother. Caroline would be there to watch this unfold; she could not live with the Hursts and she was too sharp to want to cover the whole of the expense of living in Bingley House in Town. She tried to be of use to her brother and sister, but the servants would not mind her commands. When she complained to Charles, she discovered to her horror that they were acting under his expressed orders. There would be only one Mistress of Netherfield and her name was Mrs. Bingley.

With no occupation, Caroline had nothing to do but help Jane receive her daily invasion by the female contingent from Longbourn - occasionally Mary, often Kitty, but always Mrs. Bennet. Caroline's first impulse was to flee these meetings, but she thought better of it. If Jane was to be her sister then Caroline must treat her as such - and Jane needed her support, even though she did not quite trust her. For Mrs, Bennet was full of advice - rarely helpful, sometimes contradictory, often ignorant and outrageous, and always expressed in a loud rude voice. There was nothing for it, for Mrs. Bennet would brook no request to temper her voice or opinions, and sweet Jane would not throw the baggage out. Caroline therefore attempted to find as much diversion from these performances as she might.

As the Mistress of Longbourn continued to hold court, Caroline's attention would invariably be drawn to her new sisters. At first she found them insipid and stupid, but in studying them day after day Caroline realized there was more to the Miss Bennets than met the eye.

Mary Bennet would say little, save for some inappropriate moralistic comment or a rather obvious quotation of Scripture. Caroline would soon see that while uninformed, Mary meant well but she suffered from the total neglect from her mother. She sought attention - that was why the girl would leap to perform on the pianoforte given any opportunity.

As for Kitty Bennet, Caroline saw that in her unpolished manner she was trying not to throttle her own mother. She too received only censure instead of instruction from Mrs. Bennet and would become distracted during what passed for "conversation" only when her mother became especially officious. The girl needed guidance badly.

It would be better for them to have no mother rather that that creature! thought Caroline - who then, recalling her own loss, was struck by the cruelty of the unvoiced comment. In her shame, Caroline developed a plan; if she could be of no use to her brother and his wife, then her occupation would be to help improve her new sisters - if for her own sake as well as theirs.

Caroline found the task more pleasant than she expected. She found that while occasionally loud, Kitty meant well and was often very amusing. Kitty was drawn to the older woman's sense of fashion. Kitty saw that her beloved Jane's style, in carriage and deportment, was more comparable to that of Caroline's than Mary's or the outlaw Lydia's (by that time, Elizabeth had relayed most of Wickham's story and Georgiana would later fill in the rest). While Kitty could not love orange, she learned that her new sister did have a grasp on what was expected by fashionable ladies in Town. She began to carry herself more respectfully and started to develop her talents in drawing and singing - it was too late in the day to begin playing. She also learned that comments were more fun whispered to a confidant than announced out loud to a group - and one didn't get a stern talking to, either.

It was Mary who showed the greatest improvement. Desperate for a companion, she was still leery of Lizzy's nemesis. They found their common ground in music. Before, Mary played for attention and Caroline played because it was expected. As they discussed music and technique, they both discovered that they truly loved the sound of the pianoforte. With Kitty as the common vocalist, the three spent many hours in pleasant occupation.

With Kitty's removal to Pemberley, Caroline spent even more time with Mary. At first Mary resisted any attempt to broaden her choice of reading material beyond the Bible or Fordyce's Sermons. Finally Caroline suggested poetry, starting with the Psalms. Mary had not considered that Holy Scripture could also be regarded as literature and her curiosity was inflamed. A few discussions with Caroline showed that while King David was writing of his love of God, it could also be shown that the Psalms spoke of the universality of Love - including that between a man and a woman. It was if a light had been lit inside of Mary. She began devouring any book of poetry in her father's or brother's libraries. To her embarrassed delight, Caroline (who did enjoy poetry) introduced Mary to some of Shakespeare's more risqué sonnets. This had an odd impact on Mary - she began to spend more time on her appearance and seemed to be more attentive during the other ladies' discussions over fashion.

There was a knock at the door of Caroline's dressing room. The maid went to see what was the matter. "Miss Bingley, a box has been delivered from Sir John," said Abigail.

Caroline opened the box. Inside was a beautiful string of pearls with a cameo of orange, but no note. The profile was definitely Caroline's.

"Oh, Miss! How lovely! It is a shame it does not go with the comb in your hair..."

"Remove it."

"But Miss Bingley," said a shocked Abigail, "your hair is done...you will be late..."

"Am I speaking Italian, you foolish girl?" Caroline snapped. "Remove it! Redo my hair! Do you think I shall attend this ball without wearing my fiancé's gift?"

Abigail, muttering apologies, got to work, but Caroline did not attend. She had put on the pearls, and she saw how the cameo rested just above her bosom. It was lovely and slightly risqué. It definitely became her. Not for the first time, Caroline began feeling odd flutterings in her stomach. She had no idea what it signified.

In the spring, the Bingleys left Netherfield to join the Hurts at Bingley House and the Season in Town. Caroline and Jane were able to convince Mary to come with them. Mary would stay at Bingley House; Georgiana and Kitty were residing at the Darcy townhouse. The five women went shopping for dresses together; to Caroline's chagrin, Eliza Darcy (she was now able to think of her by her married name) proved to have excellent if understated taste. Caroline, with Georgiana's support, was able to have some influence over Mary and Kitty's choice of dress - Maroon for Mary and Emerald Green for Kitty. She had less success in convincing them to wear feathers.

As they prepared for the first ball, Caroline could not help but notice the glow Jane showed. There was no mystery - Jane had confided that she was with child just before they left Netherfield. Caroline was oddly pleased at this news; she supposed it was just happiness for her brother. She did not know if she would like being an Aunt. As Mary joined them, Jane, Caroline and Louisa were generous with their praise - maroon suited her dark hair and eyes very well and the maid had spent extra time with her hair. Mary blushed fiercely at their kind words, unused to such consideration. Caroline rode in the Hursts' carriage to Almacks in fine sprits. She felt certain that Mary would embarrass no one and she was looking forward to the response the ton would have to the new Mrs. Darcy.

Caroline's first indication that the evening would not go as planned was when the Darcy party was introduced. Every eye turned to them and they were not disappointed. Georgiana was lovely and Kitty was shown to best advantage; all as Caroline expected. But Elizabeth Darcy was stunning. Never had Caroline seen anyone, much less Eliza, take the spotlight off Jane, but there was no doubt about it - Mrs. Darcy was a goddess. Even Darcy was affected - he couldn't seem to wipe the grin off his face. The Hertfordshire sisters' debut was a rousing success.

As Caroline attempted to temper her disappointment at the punch table, she became aware of a buzzing around her. She couldn't put her finger on it until she - accidentally? - overheard her friends and acquaintances among the ton, including Annabella, discussing her and her failure to secure Mr. Darcy. She realized with horror that the ton was looking for a victim - but their target was Caroline Bingley! She turned almost as red as the dress she wore as she heard their cruel jests. She had no idea she had been so obvious. As Caroline made her way back to her party, some of her so-called friends actually confronted her, attacking her with perfect civility (she knew what they were doing - after all, she was a master of the art). Stunned, Caroline deflected as much of the abuse as possible before seeking the sanctuary of the library. Fleeing, holding back tears, she nearly ran into a gentleman standing nearby before entering the room. It was there she was found by Louisa and Mary - she wept in Mary's arms.

That night, Caroline Bingley was reborn.

"There, Miss. Is your hair satisfactory?" Abigail asked.

Caroline looked at her reflection. "Yes, that will do." After a pause she remembered to add, "Thank you, Abigail."

Flustered, the girl exclaimed, "Oh, Miss! Thank you, but it was just my duty…"

Caroline sighed. She never realized how being good was such hard work. Be pleased at my appreciation, you silly girl! she thought. Out loud she said, "I am ready, Abigail." She stood to exit the room and head downstairs.

It is a hard thing indeed to admit that one's life was built around a lie but there was nothing for it. Caroline had no choice but to realize that while she had developed many admirers and acquaintances among the ton, she had few true friends. She was mortified to see how she had cut people of character, people she should have cultivated, simply to impress people of fashion. She had sacrificed any hope of intimacy with her brother's wife because of her snobbery. She had joined in with the jests and cruelties and thought little of it, until it was directed back at her. For almost ten years she had lived thus, and all she had to show at the end was an old maid without friends and without a lover. The last was a choice - there were those who would be willing to enter into an arrangement, offer carte blanc, but Caroline would not hear of it. She would be honorably married or would die alone - and she knew without a doubt she would die alone.

Louisa offered what consolation she could but it was Mary who saved her, and in a most considerate manner. She simply left Caroline's Bible open by her bedside, a particular passage of the Gospels indicated by an orange feather. At first, Caroline gasped - it was the story of Christ and the adulteress. Was this how Mary sees me? she had thought. Caroline held her temper, recalling how she taught Mary to see all of the possibilities of Scripture. It was time for the teacher to learn. Forcing herself to read and reread the familiar lines she finally saw what Mary was alluding to. Caroline had sinned - her pride had made her cruel. But the ton's actions were just as extreme and hateful as the village elders. "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone," said Christ, but He also said, "Your sins are forgiven - go and sin no more." For the first time, Caroline had hope. She could be forgiven by those she hurt - as long as she stopped hurting them.

Caroline now had a new occupation - the rebuilding of Caroline Bingley. Mary and Louisa were her confidants during this endeavor. They all agreed that the first person Caroline needed to approach was Mrs. Bingley. It was accomplished after all returned to Netherfield and it achieved as much success as could be expected. Good hearted Jane and Charles accepted Caroline's words of remorse with all generosity, assuring her of their love and affection. But Caroline was not fool enough to believe that Jane forgot as well as forgave - that was impossible. Still, she was stunned that later Jane would have Caroline join Mr. Darcy as Godparents to her daughter - as astonished as she was to learn that she adored little Susan Francis.

She dreaded the interview with the Darcys. Her sin there was more grievous and, to be honest, a little jealousy was still in her heart. Gathering up her courage she made her full apologies when the Darcys and Kitty stopped at Netherfield on their journey back to Pemberley, with Mary in attendance (the Darcys couldn't cut her completely in front of witnesses, could they?) Mr. Darcy looked to his wife - for her he would do anything. Elizabeth colored and looked at her toes, considering. Then, with a smile, firmly secure in her practice of thinking only of the past as gave her pleasure, she forgave Caroline everything and embraced her as a sister. Lizzy expected Caroline to be a difficult sister, if truth be told, but as least she was preferable over the disgraced Lydia. Restored to a level somewhere between civility and intimacy, Caroline began observing the Darcys closely. What jealousy remained in her died as she saw the open affection and respect each held for the other. To be sure, Mrs. Darcy was unorthodox, with her impertinent teasing of her husband. But Mr. Darcy seemed to relish her behavior and Caroline was startled to hear him openly laugh - she could not recall ever hearing that sound come from him before in all the years she had known him.

As Caroline continued her rehabilitation, she learned that she was to lose the company of Mary. She was too successful in her improvements of the girl - Mary had attracted the attentions of a clerk in her Uncle Philips' law office. At first, Caroline was disappointed; she thought that Mary could do better. But on further acquaintance she saw that Thomas Tucker was a hard working and ambitious man who would not remain a mere clerk for long; his other love was politics and he expressed a desire to stand for Parliament one day. A MP or a position in Government - yes, that would do for Mary, yes - do very well, Caroline considered to her satisfaction.

As the summer and Jane's confinement progressed, Caroline grew increasingly concerned over Mrs. Bennet's visits. She knew Jane would do nothing to hurt her mother's feelings, and Charles would do nothing to hurt Jane's, though both had grown exhausted by Mrs. Bennet's actions. For a permanent solution, Caroline began to use her talents for manipulation to convince Charles to give up Netherfield for another estate - anywhere but in Hertfordshire. Unknown to her, she was joined in this endeavor by Mr. Darcy, who had his eye on a place in Derbyshire. But a short-term solution was needed as well. Swallowing her pride, Caroline volunteered to bring Mary and Mrs. Bennet to Town to shop for wedding clothes. Mrs. Bennet's ecstasy was in proportion to Mr. and Mrs. Bingley's astonishment at the plan. For a fortnight, Caroline entertained the Bennet women at Bingley House, with the daily assistance of either Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy, Kitty Bennet or some combination thereof. There was additional help - Anne de Bourgh was visiting the Matlocks in Town. It was fortunate that Caroline had such help; if not it was not certain that both she and Mrs. Bennet would survive to return to Meryton. But survive and return they did, and by that time Jane's doctor was able to order complete privacy. Mindful of the need for a Bingley heir, Mrs. Bennet reluctantly complied and made do with daily letters to her poor Jane. As they were hand-delivered by Mary three women benefited from the scheme.

Caroline descended the stairs of Bingley House wearing a gown of peach and ivory, a more muted shade than she usually wore. The Bingleys and Hursts were already assembled and were visibly relived at her appearance. Caroline greeted them all and was about to make her apologies when she noticed a figure in black with a sash of red standing in a shadowy doorway. She could almost make out his intense blue eyes starring at her. As Colonel Sir John Buford, CB, strode towards her, Caroline felt once again those strange flutterings. She could not move if she wanted to - and she did not want to move. Within a breath her fiancé was before her, ignoring all others around them.

"Good evening, Caroline," he said as his eyes strayed from her face to her neck.

"Good evening, Sir John." Her voice was reasonably steady.

His hand slowly reached for and held the cameo, the back of his fingers gently caressing her skin. "I see you have worn your gift. I am pleased…that it looks so well on you."

Caroline did not blush - she flushed from her cheeks down due to his attentions. "I…I must thank you for such a wonderful gift. But how…? I sat for no commission - how did you come by my likeness?"

He dropped it back upon her bosom. "From memory," he stated, blue eyes boring into her. Violating all propriety, his lips descended upon hers with the lightest of kisses. Straightening up, he looked to his astonished audience with arrogant confidence, challenging anyone to rebuke him for claiming what was his.

A new feeling joined the flutterings, but this time Caroline knew the name of it. Desire. At that moment she cared not what other people thought - she only wanted their wedding to be tomorrow rather than a fortnight away. As soon as the sentiment washed over her she reached for her vaunted self-control. This would not do - we have guests coming. I will not fail my duties. She gave her intended an arch look. "Control yourself, sir! Why, you act like a schoolboy rather than a colonel in His Majesty's Army! Take your position, Sir John, and make your apologies." With that she entwined her arm in his, pulling him to stand at her side. Turning to the others, she said, "You really must forgive him. He is only a solider, after all."

"I think I need a drink," said Hurst.

Rather than chastised, Sir John was pleased. Once again, Caroline had passed a test.

Mary waited until Jane was fully recovered from Susan Francis' birth before becoming Mrs. Tucker. The wedding was another lesson in patience and tolerance for Caroline. Her first instinct was to take complete control of the event. However, as Jane would gently remind her, that occupation rightfully belonged to Mrs. Bennet. Caroline was relegated to offering advice and biting her tongue. Yet all went off surprisingly well - Mary was shown to best advantage in the gown Caroline help choose and the breakfast was pleasant, if only because Caroline and Mrs. Bennet were seated as opposite ends of the table.

The relationship between Jane and Caroline grew much improved during and after Mrs. Bingley's confinement. Caroline took over much of Jane's duties prior to the birth, but took pains to act (in the most part) as she believed Jane would wish, and never hesitated to ask for direction. That she disagreed with many of Jane's decisions did not stop her from holding her nose and acting correctly. And Caroline took true joy in the child. Her efforts were not lost upon Mrs. Darcy, who was visiting her sister and was in the early stages of her own confinement (with twins, as it turned out). The two old adversaries finally had something in common - Charles and Jane's daughter.

When the spring came, Caroline was honored with the request that she aid Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Gardiner in the debuts of Georgiana and Kitty, a commission Caroline accepted with pleasure and only a tiny bit of self-satisfaction. Kitty's debut would be short-lived - she almost immediately attracted the attention of a Mr. Southerland, son of a wealthy family from Scotland destined for the church. Kitty was much amazed that a clergyman would be so charming and sensible - and so handsome. He deserved closer study before she dismissed him; and so her fate was sealed, especially as he had gained the living at Kympton. Caroline should have paid more attention to these events, but her mind was at the time preoccupied by one of the most notorious men in society.

The Buford family of Wales was announced. The dowager Mrs. Albertine Buford came forward to greet her son and his intended. Walking beside her were Mr. and Mrs. Edward Buford, the current masters of the family estate, and her daughter, Lady Suzanne Douglas. "Caroline!" cried Mrs. Buford in her slight French accent that thirty years in Wales had not eliminated, "How lovely you look tonight. And this…" eying the cameo, "my son spoils you."

Caroline blushed with pleasure. "Thank you, Mrs. Buford…"

"Caroline! I must insist - Mother Buford please! Rebecca is Mrs. Buford now."

"Yes, of course - Mother Buford." Turning to the others, "Edward - Rebecca - Suzanne. Is Lord Douglas not coming?"

"Caroline, John, forgive us - tenant troubles…" The Douglas property was in Scotland. "He promises most firmly he will be here for the wedding."

The Buford, Bingley and Hurst families continued to exchange pleasantries while once again Caroline wondered at the kindness shown towards her. For such a fine family - why Sir John, a second son, came with two thousand pounds a year! - they were certainly informal. They were undoubtedly stand-offish in the beginning. Were they truly fond of her or were they simply happy that Sir John was settling down? If it was the later, how long would their kindness last?

The butler approached to interrupt them; the first guests were arriving.

She had heard of Sir John Buford, Colonel of Cavalry in His Majesty's ___th Light Dragoons, awarded the Bath for his actions in Spain with Wellesley, now Duke of Wellington. He was celebrated as dashing, brave, well-off, charming, intelligent and exceptionally handsome. It was also whispered that he was a rake and cuckolder, a dandy of bored ladies of the ton. If Caroline believed half of the stories Annabella Adams, now Mrs. Norris, told about him, it would seem he bedded a quarter of the well-bred wives in London. Caroline gave the man no notice - if she had wanted a 30-year-old solider there was always Mr. Darcy's cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. So she was completely mystified why he began to pay her attentions at Almacks; he asked for the supper dance and was very gallant towards her.

At first she was amused - if Sir John thought he was going to get inside her petticoats he had another thought coming. But as the weeks went on, she kept meeting him - at dances, at dinner parties, in the park. It seems the man was going out of his way to put himself before her. He was always the perfect gentleman, never once did he attempt to take advantage of her. And their conversations were not the flirtatious ones would-be lovers had; instead they talked of music, decorations, family, even current events. It was more of an interview than courtship.

As Spring turned to Summer, Caroline found that Sir John was visiting her several times a week. She had to admit that she enjoyed his company and looked forward to their talks, but she was disturbed as well. It was true she was five and twenty, but her reputation was all she had. Was she endangering her future by encouraging such a man? She could tell that Charles, Jane and even Louisa were uneasy. Strangely enough, the Darcys did not seem concerned in the least. At first Caroline though the former animosity between the two ladies had reasserted itself, but it turned out that Eliza and Darcy had received such good reports of Sir John from both Fitzwilliam and another acquaintance of theirs, a Colonel Brandon, that they seemed to promote the man.

In August, Caroline attended a ball at an acquaintance of Annabella's. She had begun to distance herself from Sir John, uncertain of her feelings or his intentions. Unfortunately, the attentions paid to Caroline by the colonel had affected her reputation in at least one person's mind. In a darkened hallway a slightly inebriated baronet began taking liberties with Caroline's person, declaring his desire to take her as his mistress. Outraged beyond words, she had only begun to fight back when the man was bodily snatched from her person. Sir John, in a cool rage, looked the villain full in the face before casting the drunken man to the floor. In a clipped emotionless voice he informed the baronet that should he touch Miss Bingley again he would not call him out but simply run him through. With only a word of concern to her physical state, he seized Caroline's arm and escorted her home to Bingley House in silence. A few days later, Sir John called upon her, acting as if the incident had never happened.

Finally, as September began to fade and Caroline's time in London was coming to an end, she needed to settle her own thoughts. When Sir John called, she suggested a walk to a nearby park.

"Sir John, I apologize for not doing it before, but I must thank you for the uncommon gallantry you showed on my behalf last month," she began.

"Think nothing of it, Miss Bingley; any gentleman would do the same for a lady in distress," he replied.

Any gentleman? she thought. Does he have no feelings for me? I should have known. "That may be, sir, but it was you who has earned my thanks." They walked on in silence for the next few minutes, Caroline's feelings in turmoil. They came to a rather private spot along the walk and Sir John suggested a rest. Caroline was puzzled by his choice, especially when he did not join her on the bench.

"I understand you are to leave London for Hertfordshire soon," he began.

"Yes," Caroline replied. "My brother is removing to a new estate recently purchased in Derbyshire. My family needs me to help prepare for the move."

"It is a fine thing to own one's own place," he replied rather offhandedly. "I am sure your sister will miss her relations."

"That is true, to be sure. Mrs. Bingley would be very affected was not her sister, Mrs. Darcy, residing in the same county."

"Of course, of course - Pemberley is in Derbyshire. How would you like living that far north?"

How would I like living there? How can he ask that, knowing my pursuit of Mr. Darcy? she thought. "Very well, I think, but one place is like another." Best not to make a fool of myself over Derbyshire.

"I see." He was silent for a while. "Miss Bingley, I have a request."

"Yes?"

"May I be permitted, or do I ask too much, to call upon you in Derbyshire?"

Surprised by the request, she blurted out, "Why?"

"Why?"

In for a penny, she thought. "Yes, why? What are your intentions, Colonel?"

"My intentions?" he cried. "They should be clear enough!"

Caroline was horrified. It is as I feared. He wants me for his mistress.

Sir John paced about in an agitated manner, muttering "Too soon, too soon…" then paused and took a breath. "Miss Bingley, forgive my outburst. It was not my intention to speak now; you do not know me well enough. But, madam, you force my hand - I shall speak - my fate shall be in your hands. But before I make my request known to you, I must ask you to indulge me this small thing. I must speak about my past. Will you allow me to speak my part in full before you respond? Afterward I shall answer any questions you have. Please grant me this favor - I know I ask much."

Caroline silently nodded.

"My reputation has preceded me, I fear, and I must, in all good conscience make this confession. I have not lived as I should. I know this and I am ashamed. Some men laugh this off - they are 'men of the world,' but I know better. For some time I have failed as a gentleman." He smiled slightly. "I am sure you have heard tales - from your friend Annabella, perhaps?"

Annabella? No!

"Be not alarmed, madam," he quickly added, "I may have lived selfishly, but as God is my witness I have never compromised the innocence of any maiden, low or high born. And I have never forced my…attentions upon any woman. All of my…associations…have been with…aggressive experienced partners from among the ton…"

"Other men's wives you mean…" Caroline could not help blurting out.

"If you speak of women - I do not use the term ladies - who hold their marriage vows so lightly that they flirt with their lovers at Westminster Cathedral itself, then yes, that is who I mean. But know this - I was not their first and I was certainly not their last! Do not pity their husbands - they are too busy chasing skirts to mind their duties - as you so unfortunately discovered…"

At this Caroline blushed and turned away.

"Forgive me - I have distressed you…"

"No, I am fine, I assure you…" Caroline replied.

"You are too kind," Sir John said softly. "I tell you these things not to excuse my behavior - for it cannot be excused - but that you know the whole truth of it. I sought no one out; I was always approached. But I was weak; a few moments pleasure, then emptiness… You, so pure, cannot know how pathetic a life I lived…" he paused.

Can't I, Colonel?

"But finally, three years ago, I woke up. I saw the waste my life had become. I saw men die for friends, for their King, for a flag…I vowed to be worthy of them, of my late father, to be a gentleman again. I have reformed - since my return to Britain I have lived as I should, no matter what the gossips of society say. I give you my word before God as an officer of the King's Army."

Caroline was silent for a while. The Colonel's confession had the ring of truth; what mortification he must have suffered to make such a declaration! How was she to judge, given her sins? There was one issue not resolved - how many sins must he be forgiven? Would he tell her how many women had favored him? Did she really want to know? Yet, she could not be a woman and not ask. In a small voice, Caroline asked, "How many?"

Sir John struggled. "Though they do not deserve it, as a man wishing to be a gentleman, I cannot own the exact number. I will not name them. But I am sure it is far less than the number you have been told."

"That will not do, Colonel. Is it more than ten?"

Sir John looked away and finally said, "You can count my…relationships upon one hand and not use up all the fingers." He was not completely truthful to himself - in his mind, one-time events did not signify.

"Am I acquainted with any of them?" she had to ask, knowing his answer.

"I cannot say. Only know this - I would never insult my…friends by having them or any of that set enter my house."

Caroline was silent again; there was only one question she had left and she feared to voice it. Finally, "What do you want of me, Colonel?"

"I can see in your face your fears. I do not blame you - what tales you have undoubtedly been told! I am still afraid to state my desires - yes I am afraid! But I must. Please do not give me your answer yet; think it over. I trust to your justice." Sir John drew breath. "I do wish you to become my mistress-"

Caroline gasped.

"-the mistress of my house; the mother of my heirs; the wife of my body. I formally ask to court you for the object of matrimony."

To say that Caroline was stunned would be incorrect - she would have to be sensible to be stunned. It was the very last thing she expected Sir John to say. Frozen on the bench, her thoughts started coming back to her. Matrimony? He wants to marry me? Sir John Buford wishes to court me? Do I want him to? How can I marry a rake - a former rake…Was I so much better? What I did to poor Jane, who would never hurt anyone…Sir John - I would be Lady Caroline - stop it! That is not enough…but what is? I am closer to six and twenty than not; would a better offer ever be made? He is not unattractive and he has been kind - my God, he threatened to kill for me! He wants me; has protected me…what would I give to him? On and on her thoughts flew, but in the end she had no choice.

"Colonel Buford, you ask to court me?" she asked.

"Yes Miss Bingley. Please think it over…"

She held up her hand. "Derbyshire is some distance from London or Wales. Is this a difficulty for you?"

"No distance would be too much…"

"And for how long would you court me before expecting an answer?"

"As long as it takes…"

"Please Colonel," she cut him off. She sighed. "I see no profit in such an exercise when it would make no difference with the eventual answer. Therefore I shall give you my answer now. Yes, I believe and forgive you. No, you may not court me. Yes, I will marry you."

"Pardon me?" Sir John asked, confused. Did she just say…?

Caroline smiled. "Colonel Buford, I see no reason to postpone the inevitable. I would be happy and honored to become your wife."

Surprise gave way to joy, which gave way to satisfaction on Sir John's face. Regaining control he reached out, helping Caroline to rise from the bench. He softly began kissing the back of her hands while saying, "Caroline, my own…"

"J-John," said Caroline, unused to using just his Christian name, "if I must marry a man with your reputation, should not I receive some benefit from it?" At his renewed confusion, she added, "Surely you can do better that this," as she indicated her hands.

Caroline never realized that blue eyes could become so dark as Sir John lowered her hands to her side and took her into his arms, a slow smile creeping over his face. "Oh yes, Caroline, much better…" as he lowered his lips to hers. The kiss started light and tender, which began to build as Caroline surprised herself by kissing him back. A fire seemed to erupt from his lips and engulf her body. Caroline's hands began to rise to his shoulders when she felt his tongue brush her mouth. Startled back into control, she pushed herself away slightly from his lips.

"Yes…much better, sir…but we should return to the house, I think…" Caroline smiled weakly.

"Of course, of course; let me give you my arm," her new fiancé said. As the couple began making their way back to Bingley House, Sir John asked, "Whom should I speak to? Your brother, I should think. May I approach him this evening?"

It's happening so fast…but what of it? It is time…but that kiss! I never dreamed… Caroline shook herself and answered, "Yes…that would be fine." Only later would she remember that he and Jane were at Netherfield. They walked on, while Caroline became aware of a new feeling - a fluttering in her stomach.

Caroline, at last free from her stint on the receiving line, walked with Jane and Louisa to the punch bowl. There she saw Eliza Darcy and Mrs. Gardiner with a young lady Caroline had just met that evening. "Caroline, Louisa," Elizabeth said, "allow me to reintroduce to your acquaintance a very good friend of mine, Mrs. Brandon. Marianne, Miss Bingley, Sir John's intended, and her sister, Mrs. Hurst."

"I am pleased to be able to meet you finally, Mrs. Brandon. Sir John has told me so much of Colonel Brandon and his lovely Marianne that I feel I know you already."

"You are too kind, Miss Bingley," replied Marianne as Kitty, Georgiana and Anne de Bourgh joined them. So this is the woman who snared Sir John, she thought. Is she as big a witch as I have heard? "His friends have despaired for years over Sir John ever settling down, but I see we have no fears - he was waiting for the right lady." Are you it?

"Thank you, Mrs. Brandon, but I am sure I deserve no such praise." She looked at the young lady - surely she cannot be more than one and twenty! - swallowed her pride and asked, "Tell me, which regiment is your husband attached to?"

Marianne looked askew at Caroline's odd question. "My husband is not with a regiment at the present time; he is what the War Office calls 'inactive' but has not resigned his commission. I believe he has an honorary position with the Life Guards." "

Oh…" Caroline, disappointed and embarrassed, looked away.

Knowing Caroline's reputation, Marianne could only take it as a snub. Anne gasped and Elizabeth looked severe. Even Jane showed discomfort. The silence brought Caroline to her senses. "Mrs. Brandon! I am afraid I have given you offence - please forgive me. I meant no disregard towards your husband…I was only disappointed… I am soon to be an officer's wife, but I do not know my duties…I had hoped you could give me guidance…" Caroline's eyes began to fill as she wrestled with her mortification. Insult the wife of Sir John's particular friend? What have I done? She must believe me! "I spoke ill…I had hoped to call upon you as my mentor, now…"

Marianne, touched by the sincere outburst, put her hand on the older woman's arm. "…We shall just be friends. Is that so bad?"

"Oh, no…Thank you, Mrs. Brandon," Caroline said as she took Marianne's hands in hers. Jane looked on with a proud expression at Caroline's modestly. Elizabeth was pleased and Anne was shocked, her mouth agape. She apologized? What has happened to Caroline Bingley?

It was a welcomed relief when Mary Bennet, the new Mrs. Tucker, joined the group. Caroline was very happy to see her former protégée and greeted her very affectionately. This gave Marianne a chance to speak to Kitty: "I bear greetings from Delaford Parsonage, Kitty. Is Mr. Southerland here?"

"No, parish business kept him at Kympton," Kitty replied. She did not say that the parish business was the enlargement of the parsonage in preparation for its new mistress, but Kitty's blushes gave that information away.

"No matter; now that I consider it, I believe Mr. and Mrs. Ferrars would prefer to deliver their message in person…say at Hertfordshire in February?" At this, Kitty turned positively red.

Mention of Kitty's nuptials reminded Caroline of what she meant to tell her. "Kitty, I am so happy for you and Mr. Southerland, but I am afraid that I have some news that, while delightful on the whole, may give you disappointment and me regret."

"Oh, Caroline, what is it? Do not say you cannot come to my wedding!"

"Kitty, I am sorry, but…"

"CAROLINE!"

All turned at the interruption. Walking towards them was a tall woman in a gown of the latest fashion. A lovely gown, but the color does not agree with Annabella, Caroline observed to herself. Her expert eye took in the outfit at a glance. It must have cost dear, but money cannot buy refinement. She then noticed the hard glint in Annabella's eye, which immediately put Caroline on her guard. What is she about?

"Annabella, you look lovely tonight," she greeted the woman in all false affection.

"Caroline, I simply had to take another look at your necklace. What an unusual color for a cameo! Did you have it especially made?"

"Specially made it certainly was, but not at my request. This is a gift from Sir John."

"How thoughtful of him. Orange is certainly your color." Caroline hardly blinked at the attack, while the other ladies stood in silence. Annabella turned to them. "Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Bingley, good evening. I am acquainted with Miss Bennet -" she nodded at Mary.

"Mrs. Tucker," Mary shot back.

"Oh yes, you married that young man from Hertfordshire, didn't you? A childhood sweetheart, I dare say. What does he do - a clerk of some sort, isn't he? Country romances are so charming!" Turning to Kitty, she continued, "So you are now Miss Bennet, unless you have run off lately?" She finished with a giggle.

"I still own Miss Bennet, for a few months more. I am lately engaged to Mr. Southerland," returned Kitty.

"How wonderful! Everyone is getting married!" She ignored Mrs. Gardiner - she knew she was the Hertfordshire girls' aunt from Cheapside - and cast her eyes upon Marianne. "But I have not been introduced to this lady."

Caroline was forced to do the honors. "Mrs. Brandon, this is Mrs. Annabella Norris, wife of Mr. Randolph Norris of Park Place. Annabella, this is Mrs. Marianne Brandon, wife of Colonel Christopher Brandon of Delaford in Dorsetshire."

Annabella narrowed her eyes. "Were you not a Dashwood? Are you not related to John Dashwood of Norland?"

"John Dashwood is my brother," Marianne admitted; if you could call that poor excuse of a half-brother anything but an embarrassment, she raged to herself.

"Yes! I remember you now! You had your debut three years ago." Marianne paled at this reminder of her disastrous Season, when she almost died pining over Mr. Willoughby. "You must know my particular friend, Sophia Willoughby!" Marianne reeled as if hit by a body blow. "She will be so pleased that I made your acquaintance," Annabella nearly purred.

Of all the other ladies present, only Elizabeth knew the particulars of that terrible spring. Almost white with anger, she began to respond when she felt a touch on her arm. Turning she saw Caroline, who gave her a look - No Elizabeth, this is my prey. Involuntarily, a shudder went down Elizabeth's back. Caroline did not know why Mrs. Brandon was so distressed, but she would stand for it no longer.

"Annabella!" she cried, interrupting her dissection of Marianne. "I cannot tell you how I love your dress! What an unusual color - very rare, I dare say. Very few women look becoming in it, don't you think?" she finished with a small smirk.

Annabella's eyes grew wide, then narrowed. No one could miss the insult carelessly hidden in her words - as Caroline intended. The others stood back - a challenge had been accepted; swords were drawn; the battle was now joined.

Annabella's target that evening was her former protégé; attacking her friends was a way of softening up her opposition. She was no fool - it would not do to insult the wife of Fitzwilliam Darcy or the wife of his particular friend. But the others were fair game. Now Caroline forced the issue; it was time to begin.

It should have been no contest; Annabella Norris was one of the most celebrated artists of the false complement, the cutting remark, the polite insult among the fashionable set of the ton. Having never achieved anything save marrying a rich, dull man who enjoyed billiards and brandy more than his wife's body, she lived to hurt others, so that she could ignore her own empty soul. Spare no tears for her; it was her one joy. Caroline had been the student, she the master. And Caroline should have been out of practice.

But there was a grave misunderstanding regarding Caroline's transformation: Caroline Bingley had never destroyed what she was - she only submerged it by exercising what she had the potential to be. Kindness was triumphant, but the darkness was still there, held under tight regulation. All Caroline required to deal with Annabella was to allow her inner witch free.

"Caroline," Annabella began, "you were missed at my wedding. I am very sorry that you did not attend." Of course, Annabella knew that Caroline could not very well attend her wedding as no invitation was sent or received, and she knew that Caroline knew.

With perfect composure Caroline replied, "I am sorry indeed that I could not attend, but as I laid out in my note to you and Mr. Norris wishing you joy, my sister had need of my presence, as your nuptials coincided with her laying-in." The note had as much existence as the invitation. "'Tis a joy to be engaged in employment in the service of one's family, is it not?" Caroline continued, knowing that Annabella was estranged from her only brother.

"I had not known you so maternal; or so attached to your sisters!" replied the other, accenting on the plural. "You had not expressed such desires before; but one's views change as years go by, I dare say."

Caroline did not rise to the bait, but said instead, "Yes, I had expressed foolish views in the past, but one often disparages what one does not have yet desires," glancing at Elizabeth, who did not fail to note the apology hidden in her words. "But with the years comes wisdom, I think, and my goddaughter Susan has been such a source of delight that I quite look forward to experiencing the unspeakable joy my dear sister Jane has in her with children of my own; and Sir John joins me in this desire."

Annabella giggled. "Caroline Bingley a mother. Pardon me, my dear friend, but you must own it to be excessively diverting! However, I am sure you would make the most excellent of mothers. Think of the expense you shall save by not employing nurses or governesses, for you will be so attentive that no one shall touch your children save yourself."

"Indeed I deserve no praise for such talents," Caroline said gravely, "but with guidance from my sister," she turned to Jane, "and my friends," this to Elizabeth, "I shall bear the burden tolerably well."

Annabella was taken aback - the smiles on the faces of the Hertfordshire sisters gave the lie to the stories of incivility between Miss Bingley and her relations. And the lady's unexpected humility threw Mrs. Norris off her stride.

Caroline knew this was the moment to attack. "But I must say I am concerned for you, dear Annabella." "Concerned? Whatever do you mean?" she cried. "Why, surely you have heard the news from Vienna? It was in all the papers."

"News? What news?" Annabella rarely read anything in the papers save the society pages; and those she devoured greedily. "What does it signify what happens in foreign places?"

"Then you do not know. His Majesty's delegation has convinced the other parties at the Congress of Vienna to join Britain's ban on the trading of African slaves. Sir John has informed me that the Admiralty has sent squadrons off the African coast to suppress the slave trade. 'Tis a wonderful thing for those poor savages, to be sure - but Annabella, how will Mr. Norris survive without sugar and slaves?" referring to Mr. Norris' plantations in the West Indies, the source of the bulk of his income. "But I am being foolish; Mr. Norris is a very wise and clever man - he will think of something. You have nothing to concern yourself over, my dear; forgive me."

Annabella, knowing very well that her husband was neither of these things, became alarmed. Mr. Norris had inherited the properties upon his father's untimely drowning during a hurricane. Had he not mentioned that very morning the possibility that he may have travel to inspect his properties in the New World? She had not seen any danger - she only reflected with relief that with him gone, she would not have to submit to the wifely duties he expected every fortnight. Mr. Norris had seemed irritable and out of sorts lately, but she paid it no mind; she thought that one of his horses had lost again. She did not pay attention to Mr. Norris' business, but she knew of his income and where it came from - how else would she have accepted him? Could her situation be imperiled? Would Caroline invent such a thing?

Her thoughts in a turmoil, but unwilling to show weakness in front of her opponent she changed the subject. "Caroline, you speak of current events and politics with your fiancé? La, but that is a strange manner of courting!" Annabella tried to smile but failed, not realizing she had set her foot on the very path Caroline was leading her to.

Caroline smiled indulgently. "It would certainly appear thus, but he trusts me to be informed, and for a very good reason. I am glad you brought up this subject, Annabella, for it allows me to explain my unfortunate inability to attend Miss Bennet's wedding in February." Turning to the girl, Caroline continued, "Kitty, I hope you believe that otherwise Sir John and I would be most pleased to join you and Mr. Southerland in celebrating your day of joy, but duty calls from far away." Turning back to Annabella, Caroline assumed her most haughty expression. "My honeymoon shall be on the Continent; Sir John is to join his Majesty's delegation at the Congress of Vienna as an aide to the Duke of Wellington. I shall be assisting Lady Barbara in entertaining the dignitaries."

This sent a shock throughout the entire party. "Lady Barbara?" gasped Annabella. "Surely you do not mean Lady Barbara Hornblower?"

"Yes," said Caroline sweetly, as she sprung her trap. "We have received the kindest letter from both the Duke and her Ladyship, wishing us joy and safe journey."

Even Elizabeth could not hide her gasp. The fact that she had received an unsolicited letter from the Iron Duke and his sister, who was acting as his hostess, nearly knocked the legs from under Mrs. Norris. Jealousy and anger overcame what self-control Annabella was still in possession of. She could only lash out. "Tell me, Caroline - how did you attach yourself to such a man?"

The gasps were redoubled - the insinuation implied in such a question - she had gone too far - she must retrench - but she cared not. In her pain she wanted to hurt Caroline as much as she could; even at the risk of her own reputation.

But on Caroline's part there was no injury; Annabella had responded just as she had foresaw and she could only regard her former friend with pity and regret. How could I have been so foolish, so blind? How could I have desired the good opinion of creatures like her over people of character; when I could have cultivated friendships with people like...she looked around and finally admitted to herself...the Bennet women?

With an air of sadness rather than triumph she delivered her coup de grace. "You may well ask, Annabella, but I have no firm answer - in fact I do not know. He is certainly above me in accomplishments and improvements-" she stressed the word "-and I am honored that he would choose me to be his wife and helpmate, and I hope I shall make a good one for him. I know I shall labor to make myself worthy of his regard. He had pledged his belief in my abilities and I have pledged my belief in his honor. He trusts in my mind and I trust in his heart. I have every expectation of happiness. Few couples, I think, enter into marriage with such a good understanding of each other's character, but I am fortunate to have some examples among my acquaintance - such as you, Jane, and you, Elizabeth." Elizabeth smiled at Caroline's use of her Christian name; it was the ultimate peace offering.

"Thank you, dear Caroline," she offered in return.

Caroline smiled and nodded to her former rival. Returning to Annabella she said, "But it is nice to know that in his eyes I hold inducements to devotion other than intelligence, accomplishments and dowry..." as her hand drifted to her cameo.

"But come ladies, we are taking Jane from her duties. Shall we not return to the men? It is surely time for the dancing to commence." With that, Caroline took Jane's arm and turned to walk towards the ballroom. Standing in front of her was Sir John, regarding her with a slight smile. He must have observed my confrontation with Annabella! thought Caroline. Oh, what does he think of me?

Sir John simply approached them and said, "Allow me," taking Caroline on one arm and Jane on the other. As the party moved towards the ballroom, he leaned over and whispered in Caroline's ear, "Well done."

Walking behind them, Marianne whispered to Elizabeth, "I am glad I am not her enemy."

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