Darcy was studying his wife with a small smile on his lips, a hand lightly resting on the small of her back. Jane laughed softly at Lizzy's words, although Caroline did not comprehend why. Not exerting the effort to puzzle it out, she turned her attention to Darcy.
“Mr. Darcy, it is a pleasure to see you. Are you ‘better than well’ also?”
He met her eyes and inclined his head. “Miss Bingley, I am excellent. I daresay the best I have been in my entire life.” Before finishing his earnest little speech, his eyes had returned to his wife, ignoring Caroline.
Mr. Bingley chimed in with a call to the parlor until dinner was served. The gentlemen stayed close to their wives, chatting casually. Caroline was reintroduced to Lizzy's sisters. Mary, as typical, stood apart, awed and intimidated by Bingley's sister. Kitty could not stop staring. Ever since the insertion of Bingley and Darcy to the Bennet household, Kitty had been inundated and captivated by finery and grandeur of all sorts. Caroline found herself near Georgiana, surreptitiously observing Darcy nearly as giddy as her ridiculous brother.
“Miss Bingley,” Georgiana began shyly, “your gown is lovely. I do not believe I would ever have the courage to wear that shade, but it so becomes you.”
“Thank you, Miss Darcy. Proper fashion is a fine art. You are young still and need not yet worry too greatly, although I daresay your debut is rapidly approaching. It is a shame that you have no one to assist with the necessary requirements of society. Men certainly do not apprehend the nuances of stylish dress and feminine exigency.”
Georgiana blushed. “Well, there is an amazing French modiste in Lambton, and while we are here, Elizabeth and I will be having new gowns created by Madame Millicent and Frau Braun. My brother insists. Elizabeth needs new gowns, although I surely do not.”
“It is fortunate that you have traveled to Town, if Mrs. Darcy needs new gowns. I suppose she has resisted deserting the comfortable and simple clothing she has always been familiar with.”
Georgiana frowned. “No, it is not—” but she was interrupted when the footman announced dinner.
“Lizzy,” Jane said as they sat, “you must immediately speak if any of the dishes disturb you.”
“Thank you, Jane dear. I will be fine. These past two days have been blessedly free of any major discomfort.”
“Have you been ill, Mrs. Darcy?” Caroline asked.
“Nothing that will not improve in time, Miss Bingley.”
“Bingley,” Darcy spoke, “my steward sent me the information I requested on the Hasberry Estate. I brought it with me for you to peruse at your leisure. I do hope you will give it some consideration.”
“It is a lovely piece of land, Charles,” Lizzy interjected. “William took me to see it before we left. I believe my devious husband was ensuring my ‘yea’ vote and entrusting me to whisper in Jane's ear.”
Darcy smiled. “Do not be ridiculous, Elizabeth. Bingley is a grown man and will make his own decision. We all know that wives have no influence over their husbands.”
Lizzy and Mr. Bingley laughed out loud, and Darcy winked at Jane. Caroline could not believe her eyes or ears. Darcy jesting! Unfathomable.
“Yes, yes, of course dear,” Lizzy said, patting her husband's hand, “this is why it is fortunate that Charles and Jane will be visiting later in the summer. You can drag Mr. Bingley to Hasberry while we weak minded women stay home and knit.”
“Charles, are you seriously contemplating relocating to Derbyshire?” Caroline asked as she smiled winsomely at Mr. Darcy, who was not looking at her, but smiling at his wife. “It is beautiful there. I have always adored the Peak District.”
“It is one of many ideas, Caroline. My wife and I are not certain which path we will take, although I know my Jane would like to be close to Lizzy, especially now.” Jane smiled sweetly at her husband.
“Jane,” Caroline continued, “would you not miss your parents if you moved away?”
“Yes, of course, and that is why we are not wishing to rush into a permanent decision.”
“How is your family, Mrs. Darcy? Your mother and father are in good health?”
“They are quite well, thank you.”
“And your youngest sister? How are she and her… husband faring in… Newcastle, was it not?” Caroline asked with a smirk and slight emphasis on husband.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the table, as Lizzy reached to lightly caress Darcy's hand where it lay on the table. Smiling innocently, she replied, “They are also well, Miss Bingley. Your kindness in inquiring after my family touches my heart. Of course, in an obliquitous way they are also your family, so I suppose it is natural that their well-being would be of your concern.”
Caroline blanched and Jane hid a smile in her napkin. Darcy nudged Lizzy with his knee and took a quick bite of bread to hide his smile. Caroline remained quiet for a time while the conversation varied. She lost count of the number of times Darcy and the upstart shared a tender glance or sly touch. He appeared to observe her every bite with the utmost interest, to Caroline's bafflement. Once, when Elizabeth brought her napkin to her mouth and bowed her head briefly, he rapidly leaned in and whispered something with an expression of deep concern which only cleared when Elizabeth shook her head negatively. Then, to Caroline's shocked irritation, he actually bestowed a brushing kiss to her temple. Poor man, she thought, his hideous bewitchment seems to have overtaken him.
The rather tragic truth is that Caroline Bingley simply could not fathom the concept of love. It was one thing to see her naïve brother fawn over his pretty but brainless wife; Caroline was accustomed to watching him make a fool of himself over a pretty girl. The fact that he had married this one was embarrassing, but she did not conceive of his emotions as being any different than all the others he had been infatuated with. It was not that Caroline did not care for her brother; she did. Nonetheless, she deemed him shallow and moronic; thus, it would never occur to her to entertain the concept of him truly being in deep anything, let alone love.
Mr. Darcy was an entirely different matter. Frankly, as fortuitous as she had considered it for her future, Caroline could never reason why Mr. Darcy was friendly with her brother. Charles, God love him, is such a simpleton, she would think to herself, so how can an intelligent man like Mr. Darcy be his friend? Despite the puzzle of the question, Caroline had given it little contemplation. The advantage was all hers, and to her delight, she knew her close proximity over the past several years to one of the most eligible bachelors in England had been the fount of wild envy among three-quarters of the ton. She had seen Mr. Darcy as the perfect catch, and not only because of the size of his pocketbook. Darcy would be flabbergasted, but the fact is that his cool, aloof demeanor as a result of his shyness and disdain for the foolishness and falseness of society had translated to Caroline as superiority of character. Caroline looked down her nose at everyone, was cruel and snide, haughty and arrogant in the extreme. Lizzy was not the first to interpret Mr. Darcy's past behavior in this light. So, Caroline figured they were two of a similar kind.
Even now, witnessing his happiness, devotion, playfulness, and joviality, she did not evaluate it correctly. In her eyes, he was enchanted, which to a degree was true, but she assumed it was in a negative way. In a twisted bit of logic, she reckoned it her duty to point out his error and ridiculousness before he made a bigger fool of himself before all of society. Simply put, Caroline was ragingly jealous and her pride seriously wounded. One would sympathize if there had ever been the slightest hint of love involved in her pursuit of Mr. Darcy, but since it had always been mercenary in nature, sympathy was impossible.