Mr Darcy's Christmas Carol

Part 14

"Charles! How wonderful to see you. Annabelle, I do hope you aren't sickening for anything. You look a little flushed." Caroline had voiced this last with the utmost concern, yet Darcy knew his wife well enough to recognise the hint of an insult nestled amidst her professed fear for her friend. Ignoring her, he reached for Charles' hand, grasping it warmly.

"It is good to see you again, Charles. How do you find Derbyshire?"

"Beautiful," Bingley said, with a brief glance towards his sister. "At least, what we have seen of it is pleasant to look at. We have not had so much time for walking and exploring as I might have hoped."

Annabelle sniffed, and tossed her hair, turning her attention pointedly away from her husband and towards his sister.

"Caroline, dear, you look so different with your hair pinned so. Almost matronly!"

The ladies fell to discussing the friends they shared, sharpening their cruel tongues on shared enemies rather than on one another, and Darcy felt free to speak to his own friend unhindered by the ears of his wife.

"I hope you will take full advantage of the grounds while you are here, in that case." He smiled. "We might walk, or ride, as you wish. If we are lucky we might even see our way to some shooting, assuming the ladies are content to allow us our freedom."

"We would happily free you to undertake such a pastime if it would release us from having to look interested," Caroline said. "Besides, Annabelle and I have plenty to occupy us here. Perhaps my dear husband will permit me to organise a small soiree, for I would dearly like to introduce you to my friends." Darcy was not given a chance to agree or disagree with this request, for it was spoken as a matter of fact, as if Caroline had already determined what she would do, regardless of Darcy's approval. "The new Lady Frobisher, you know, has an estate not far from here, and we are very good friends. She is an emigree, you know," Caroline's voice dropped to a pseudo-whisper. "From France. Dreadfully elegant, but so severe! Still, her sense of style is exquisite, and she never fails to compliment me on my own attention to fashion and detail." Caroline lifted her chin, intent on demonstrating the particular sparkle of a pair of ear-bobs that had been a recent gift from Darcy to his wife. A gift of duty rather than any real affection, for Caroline had been none too reserved when it came to suggesting notions she most admired and wished for. Plagued with guilt for the sharp words Darcy often spoke to his wife, which were bred out of his own hatred of his current circumstances, he was all too inclined to attempt to repair the damage with such a purchase, yet he had not yet managed to buy his way into a happier marriage, and lately began to wonder if such a feat were indeed possible.

"You are as kind as ever, sister, to befriend someone leaving behind such suffering," Charles said, with a small smile towards Caroline that, Darcy noticed, was not returned. In fact, he wondered if Caroline had even heard her brother's compliment.

"Your estate is so vast, Mr Darcy," Annabelle said, breaking away from Caroline's hypnotic monologue long enough to pay her host a genuine compliment. "I had no idea Pemberley so grand a place!"

"No idea!" Caroline laughed, but the sound was not a pleasant one. "Really, Annabelle, you tease us. Pemberley is well regarded throughout England as one of the prettiest of all the country estates."

"Now, Caroline, I don't think that is altogether accurate -" Darcy began, disliking the superior tone Caroline slipped into when discussing their home as if she had had some role to play in its flourishing. That Pemberley existed at all, and thrived as it did, was largely down to the careful work of his father. Old Mr Darcy had invested well and run his estate wisely, taking good care of his tenants and in return earning their respect and devotion. Darcy strove to emulate his father, yet Caroline seemed to give little credence to the importance of giving due care and consideration to the managing of such an estate. She merely enjoyed the benefits afforded such a home and had already successfully encouraged Darcy to host two large-scale parties this season. She was angling for a third, and it seemed the arrival of Charles and Annabelle Bingley were just the excuse she had been hoping for to hasten her plans.

"I mean - it is so very different from London," Annabelle hurried out, eager not to upset her hots so soon after arriving. "So green, and pleasant."

"Indeed!" Caroline nodded, accepting this comment as an adequate explanation and forgiving her friend for the perceived slight in her earlier comment. "It is far pleasanter than London! I do not know how you can bear to live there so much. Surely, Charles, you are eager to take a house in the country again, for you were so happy at Netherfield."

The silence that swept over the room was so sudden and complete that even Darcy was surprised by its fervency. He noticed Caroline's cheeks drain of all colour as she realised her mistake.

"Happy, yes." Charles cleared his throat. "But that was a long time ago. Everything is different now, is it not?" He turned his attention to the piano. "Do you still have much opportunity to play, sister? Or does the provision of music all fall on Georgiana's shoulders?" He lifted his gaze to Darcy's. "Where is your sister, Darcy? I hope she is not avoiding us?"

"Avoiding? Not at all." Darcy smiled, grateful for the interest his friend showed in the absent Georgiana. "She had a few tasks to see to, I believe, but will return and join us for dinner. And you will stay here a few days yet, so you are bound to be afforded the chance to hear her playing. She continues to improve, if it were possible."

"Yes, we can hardly pry her fingers from the keys," Caroline remarked, with a pinched smile. "How pleasant it is to have an hour of silence, without her trilling through scale after scale. Annabelle, come and take a turn about the room with me, for you must be in need of some exercise after your long journey..."