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Chapter 18

Posted on Tuesday, 16 September 2003, at 9:28 p.m.

During dinner, the pair had focused on speculating about Wickham's motives and plans. After having gone up to their room, they considered Georgiana's situation.

"You must go to talk to her," Caroline said. At the moment she felt incapable of coherent thought. Her head was spinning, even though she had not had that much wine with her dinner.

"Why does it have to be me?" the Colonel inquired. "I do not possess that talent I often see displayed of talking sense into young ladies. Or do you think I do?" He had tried to speak to Georgiana back in London, but he had failed.

"Possess a talent? No, I do not think you do." She closed her eyes to make her head stop whirling.

"What is the matter?"

"I am not used to French wine."

Colonel Fitzwilliam gave her a curious glance. "The wine we drink at home is usually French. Have you never drunk any?"

"I have, but they make it stronger on French soil."

"Do you drink it mixed with water at home?" Fitzwilliam vaguely remembered something Darcy had once told him about Bingley, Hurst and wine.

"Oh, could be. I do not involve myself in such matters." She was ashamed to admit that she had never looked into that. "The drinks are Charles' domain."

"Perhaps you should pay some attention to what he puts before you."

"Why? It has never done me any wrong. I have never felt it burning all through me. I do not quite like it." She kept her eyes closed so things would stop floating around her.

"You should have told me." He did not understand why she had simply continued drinking.

"I did not know it would make me dizzy. What could you have done?"

"I could have told you that you were on your way to becoming drunk."

Caroline opened her eyes in horror. "Am I drunk?"

He studied her carefully. "No, it takes a little more than what you have been drinking."

"How do you know I might drink different wine at home?"

"I think your brother orders the wine to be mixed with water so Hurst does not become too inebriated at the dinner table already."

"Charles would never think of that," Caroline said immediately. It was too devious a plan to have been Charles' own idea. It was not something even she would have thought of.

Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled. "You are quite right. I believe it was Darcy who suggested it to him. You are not too affected by the wine if you are capable of realising that with such alacrity."

"Do you think so?" she asked hopefully.

He contemplated calling her a silly girl, but he was afraid she would misinterpret his amusement and be annoyed with him. Instead, he regarded her without saying anything, wondering how much more of her sophistication was deceptive.

Caroline smiled at him uncertainly. "Why are you looking at me like that?" She did not know whether to like it.

"No reason."

"I do not like that reason."

"You cannot not like a reason if it is no reason."

"Such reasoning is too much for me at the moment," she complained, understanding only that she had said something stupid again, which was really all she needed to know.

"Then you had best get some sleep and we shall discuss it further tomorrow morning."

"Do you never sleep?"

"I may not sleep as long as you do, but I do sleep." Fitzwilliam grinned in a somewhat wicked manner. "I woke up only a little while before you did, but I was very quick to get dressed."

"Not quick enough," Caroline heard herself say.

Surprisingly, that made him uncomfortable. "I did not intend for you to see it. You must not think that was my intention."

"If you say so." She staggered towards the bed and fell down on it.

"Now, Caroline. I do not think you really had to walk like that. Did you exaggerate just a little or are you really that unstable?"

She sat up again. "I exaggerated, but that does not mean I am not tired. I know I should continue the discussion with you, but --"

"Why should you?" Colonel Fitzwilliam sat down next to her. "I might be tired as well. I slept less than you did in the past few days and I drank as much wine as you did."

"But your constitution..." Caroline watched languidly as he began to take off his boots.

In the morning, Caroline felt too comfortable in bed to get up, even though she noticed she was the first to wake and that this was her chance to get dressed unseen. She wondered why she was so lazy this morning, but she praised herself for having sent their clothes to the laundry. That move allowed her to be as lazy as she wished, but then she remembered they had located Georgiana and that there was no need to travel any further.

Some time later she woke again and she noticed no change beside her. Colonel Fitzwilliam was apparently doing a good job of catching up on sleep.

He was odd. At some point he opened his eyes and immediately began to speak, saying they could continue the discussion now. Caroline stared at him. "Have you been fooling me?"

"Why? What do you mean?"

"Did you just wake up?"

"Yes."

"But you began to speak right away."

"Is there a minimum amount of time I should wait before I begin to speak?" he wondered.

"No, but...you are odd."

"Well, if that is all..." He propped his pillow up behind his head. "I can live with such an opinion." He folded his hands above the blankets and gave her a saintly sideways glance. "Let us hear your plans for today, Madam."

"Why mine?"

"Because you have obviously been awake for a while and you must have given some thought to what we are going to do. I shall not accept that you have been lying in bed in an idle manner."

"What would you do if I have?"

"I shall tease you about it," he said gravely. "No thoughts at all? Caroline, you disappoint me."

"What is your first name?"

"You know what it is."

"Hearsay." She did not think he had ever introduced himself properly to her. At least, it was not something she could remember.

"You tempt me again."

"I only know what Darcy told me."

"You should never believe anything Darcy told you about me," he said automatically. "He probably told you I was a tease."

"He told me your name was Richard."

"I cannot believe Darcy was truthful for once," Fitzwilliam said with much disgust. "That reflects rather badly on me because of my remarks about him, does it not? Or would it reflect badly on Darcy that you call his words hearsay?"

"Can you not introduce yourself to me for once without embarking on some elaborate word-twisting?"

"I find it a bit unnecessary to introduce myself to a woman who has already been posing as my wife for the past few days without having made a problem of not having been introduced to me so far."

"I like to do things in reverse."

He grinned, thinking of one thing she would not like to hear him mention. It had to do with posing as his wife. Actually, he would not like to think of that in reverse yet either. "If you promise not to abbreviate my name, you may refer to me as Richard."

"To whom?"

"To yourself. Who else? We are quite alone here and I should not like you to strike up an acquaintance with strangers to whom you might reveal my first name in an unguarded moment. What of this fellow you met in the park?"

"I told him your name." Quite naturally the man had asked who her husband was. There was always a chance that they were acquainted.

"What if he told Georgiana?"

"He does not seem to be in contact with her. Do you think I am stupid?" She would never have told the man if there had been any danger of him telling Georgiana that her cousin was here with his wife. Georgiana would know the cousin had no wife. Back in England, she might tell everyone about this trip. Although Caroline had never really considered it, she had never imagined that she would return to England to tell everyone about it. In her mind she had always assumed it would be kept a secret.

"I can safely say I never thought that."

"How do you propose we come into contact with Georgiana?" she asked thoughtfully. "I cannot simply go to the French family and say I have come here on my own -- and you refuse to talk sense into girls."

"You keep me busy enough doing that as it is," he mumbled.

"There is no need to mumble in my presence. My ears are quite good. I shall pretend I did not hear that. Well? Will you go? You have a better excuse for coming here. Being a man and all that."

"And all that? What is all that?"

"Do not evade the question."

"All right. If you can tell me where to go, I will go. Once."

"I will make sure to instruct you properly beforehand on the best way to approach a young and headstrong girl..."

Colonel Fitzwilliam made the beginning of a choking sound, but he swallowed it quickly. He found it enormously funny that Caroline Bingley of all people was going to instruct him about such a thing and that she could tell him this with such absolute earnestness in her voice.

Chapter 19

Posted on Saturday, 26 July 2003, at 11:39 a.m.

"Your acquaintance," Colonel Fitzwilliam began. He paused to think what he wanted to ask about the man.

Caroline knew he was referring to the Englishman from the park. "What about him?" There was a certain something in his voice that made her wonder if he disapproved without ever having seen the man. "He is a painter." She adjusted her pillow so she could be a little more upright.

"Oh dear," he muttered. For some reason he never trusted painters. Quite a lot of them were immoral rakes. "Dare I hope he did not make you any compliments?"

"Why? Is that what painters do?"

"It is, if they hope to convince the lady to pose for them."

"What could be so very bad about that?" She had posed for her portrait a few times in her life. The experiences had been painless.

"What does he paint? Did he tell you? Landscapes? Though I do not really see why a painter should have to move to the Continent to pain landscapes. The English landscapes are pretty enough. It makes me think he moved here to paint women as Greek goddesses. On the Continent they are much less concerned about the reputation of a lady."

"You are ridiculous," Caroline said decidedly. "My new acquaintance has not dropped any hints about wanting to paint me. He knows I am married." She had told him so.

"But if he had any eyes in his head he would also see you would make a nice goddess."

"Do you really think I would drape myself in a sheet for a stranger? I would not."

Fitzwilliam's eyes travelled down the bedclothes that covered her from her neck downwards. "I see," he said enigmatically, but in fact he did not see. He needed to think on that comment about not draping herself in a sheet for a stranger. Either she was silly enough not to realise what she was saying, or she did not consider him to be a stranger.

"I occasionally have my doubts, but do you think I am preserving my good name and reputation while travelling with you? I am trying not to give you any occasion to think less of my sense of propriety." Caroline glanced at him with sincerity.

"Surely you are teasing me?" he asked. In theory her good reputation was in tatters, though in practice it was as sound as ever.

She shook her head and the sincere expression remained on her face.

He drew in a deep breath. "Caroline, do you not realise that I cannot comment on your excess of propriety or lack thereof without commenting on my own?" As far as he was concerned they were in the same boat -- which was currently a bed.

"Yes, but you may approve of something in someone else that you may not like in yourself."

"True. For instance, I really approve of your ability to keep the blanket up to your neck while I cannot seem to really care about it being around my waist. I should, should I not? But I suppose I am counting on your not tattling on me when we get back to England."

Caroline freed her arms and pulled the blankets up as high as possible. She was relieved by his words. "It seems that we both have so much to tattle about that it would not wise to attempt it. Does it mean I could behave around you as I would around Louisa?"

"Please, no. I have not heard much good about you and your sister. Behave around me as you would around...a husband. I daresay we have already been more in each other's company than many a married couple, so it should not be too difficult to appear well-acquainted. We already have the advantage over some of being able to spend time in the same room without being seized by the urge to kill each other."

"That is what you think," she said dryly.

He looked startled. "Am I in danger?"

"No, I was merely teasing you. Why, though, would people marry if they wanted to kill each other?"

"I am sure they did not feel that when they got married. I am guessing they started to feel that way because they were deceived in their spouse."

"Not everybody who was deceived in their spouse would want to kill him. He might have improved upon closer acquaintance, rather than become worse." Some people were not as bad as they first appeared to be, upon closer inspection.

"I would seriously wonder what was wrong with a woman who married a man who improved upon closer acquaintance so much as to warrant saying she was deceived in him."

"How would you have it then?" Caroline thought that this was more preferable than the other way around.

That required very little thought on the Colonel's part. It was an answer he had promptly at his disposal. "I would rather not have it at all."

"That is what you say, but you even have opinions on the subject."

"It is much safer to have opinions on something you do not want."

"It is much safer to say you do not want something you have opinions on," Caroline corrected. She smiled knowingly, believing she had just found out something he had wanted to keep hidden from her, or perhaps from himself as well.

"You should not be surprised if one of these days I am seized by an urge," he warned her. He did not like it when she probed too deeply. "And it may not be a nice one."

"Let me be the judge of that. You would never kill me."

Colonel Fitzwilliam groaned. Because he needed to be out of sight for a moment and because he did not feel like leaving the bed, he pulled the covers over his head so he could grimace and blush in peace. He did not like to colour in front of a lady, but his cheeks felt warm anyway. He was afraid he had said something indecent, even if she might not have understood.

"We have not even begun our serious discussion yet," Caroline said to him.

He answered from behind the blanket. "Really? I have distinct recollections of having been serious. What we discussed was relevant. We are assuming that Georgiana was deceived in her husband and not in a positive way."

"It seems to me that she has not yet been deceived. She is still waiting for deception to set in. Would she not have gone back home otherwise?" She pulled at the covers so he would lower them. She disliked talking to textile.

He showed his face again. "Do you want to be the one to pull the blindfold off her face as well, figuratively speaking?"

"You will talk to her first and then you will report to me."

"Yes, Madam."

After breakfast, Caroline had taken him to the park to meet the English painter, who was, not surprisingly, painting. Colonel Fitzwilliam had decided to approach him with the reserve he assumed the husband of a pretty woman to have towards other men, in which he succeeded very well, he thought. He was pleased to note the painter was painting flowers and not people, and that he was a comparatively ugly man.

"My husband," said Caroline, wondering whether real husbands also kept hanging on to their wives' arms while speaking to other people or whether this was done deliberately to show Mr Jones that they were indeed married, "used to be acquainted with Lieutenant Wickham. He should like to visit his wife to see if there is anything he can do for her." There was something her fake husband could do for her, too, and that was to stop squishing her hand between his arm and his hand with which he was keeping it in place. She made the mistake of touching his hand with her free one, to signal he should relax, but he responded by entwining their fingers. She gave up.

The painter provided them with the address and directions of the French family and after some more small-talk, Colonel and Mrs Fitzwilliam continued their way. Caroline looked at her companion triumphantly. "That was easy." Fortunately he had left go of her hand when he had needed to put the address in his pocket, so that allowed her some more freedom of movement.

"Indeed," he replied, but trouble was only beginning. Now he would really have to go and talk to Georgiana.

Assisted by Caroline, he put on his best clothes and prepared to leave. "Will you stay here?" he asked as she was tying his cravat. That was something he could do himself, but he much preferred to be assisted and she did not seem to mind doing it.

"I shall go to the park and talk to Mr Jones to see if he really does want to paint me in a sheet."

He stared at her, opening his mouth to protest against such an improper notion, but then he saw she looked much too amused to be sincere.

She finished her work and patted his chest briefly. "Done. Very presentable, Colonel," she said smugly, proud of her efforts. She reached up to his head to brush some stray hairs back in place with her fingers. She could not reach the hairbrush from where she was standing and it was too much trouble to walk there.

Colonel Fitzwilliam grasped her wrist. "Promise me you will not get into trouble while I am away." It was hard enough to have to deal with one silly female. He would not like to return from his excursion to find the other one missing.

"I never get into trouble."

He grasped her other wrist as well. Then he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "May that keep you safe." Then he left the room.

It was surprisingly easy to gain access to Georgiana. Presumably the French family were hopeful that someone would relieve them of their guest eventually, although they seemed quite hospitable and genuinely concerned about her. He introduced himself as Mme Wickham's cousin and nobody questioned that.

The Colonel was shown up to a small sitting room where a girl sat looking out of the window with her back towards him. She did not turn, even though he was certain she had heard the door open. "Georgiana?" he said after a moment.

"Richard?" she said incredulously after she had turned around. "What are you doing here? In France?"

How indeed could he explain his presence in France? He studied her fatigued and pale appearance. She was not looking well. Either her journey or her marriage had not done her good.

She looked at him for a while, obviously thinking. "Did...did my brother send you? Nobody else knows I went to France."

"No, he did not send me. He does not even know where you are."

Instead of taking his words at face value, Georgiana attached conclusions to them right away. "How come you do? He sent you to get me back, did he not? He does not care enough about me to come himself, does he?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam sought out a chair. This might be a long conversation. "I am willing to listen to you as long as you listen to me first," he said calmly. "Are you?"

"I suppose so, but it depends on what you are going to say. I shall not like everything."

"Such is life," he shrugged. "First, your brother does not know you are here. Your letter was kept from him. Someone contacted me."

"Who?"

He paused for a split second. He could not reveal Caroline's name, because it would inevitably lead to questions about his involvement. "A mutual friend."

"I have no friends."

"I am sorry to disappoint you in your lonely misery, but you do appear to have a friend."

"Who?" she asked again.

"I was asked not to tell you, for reasons that have nothing to do with you. Tell me what you are doing here and what your plans are."

Georgiana raised her chin, as if she expected to be challenged. "I am waiting for George."

It would in all likeliness not be appreciated if Fitzwilliam asked whether that was really going to happen. "Where has he gone?" He wondered how much Georgiana would actually know.

"He is gathering funds."

"For what?"

"The Army life did not suit him. We have other plans. He has recently won a sugar plantation in a card game. We are planning to go there."

"I beg your pardon?" Colonel Fitzwilliam was stunned. How could a girl like Georgiana seriously believe this nonsense? How could a man like Wickham even come up with it? Who would believe that there were men stupid enough to gamble with plantations?

"I know it sounds odd, but --"

"It sounds damn unbelievable!" he exclaimed.

"There you go again," Georgiana said bitterly. "If you are not going to believe anything I say there is no point in talking to you."

He could not waste this chance. He had to suspend his disbelief, even if it was going to cost him a lot of trouble. "No, no, continue." He could not return to Caroline to say he had ruined it already in the first five minutes.

"I am not sure I should," she pouted.

There was something in her attitude that was not sincere. It annoyed him that she appeared to want to make him plead for the story. If this was her attitude he was not going to play along. "Do not play games with me, Georgiana. If you do not want to tell me, I am not going to beg for it another time, but I shall return to England and leave you here. If you are intent on retaining me as a relative, you had better tell that story to me and answer any questions I might have without stringing me along for some obscure purpose. Last chance, Georgiana." He had never known he would be able to speak to her as decidedly as that. "Did he desert?"

"No, he resigned his commission. I told you. He is gathering funds for us to move to the plantation," she said reluctantly, but apparently impressed by his tone.

He wondered if he could believe that. What about Mr Jones the painter's story? Who had been deceived here? For the moment that was not important. He would come to that later. "Where? For how long?"

"He is going to let me know about that soon."

"Are you saying he left you here without telling you anything more than that?" Fitzwilliam struggled to keep his tone neutral. He was not surprised, but it angered him all the same.

"I do not need to know the particulars," Georgiana defended herself. "Why should I? I should only be worried if I knew everything."

It was very likely that Wickham had made her believe that, although it was difficult to accept that he had managed. "I should be worried if I did not know the particulars," Fitzwilliam said rather sharply.

"That is what you think, but you are not in love, Richard. If you fall in love you will see that it is different." She spoke as if she was the only of them who would know anything about love.

"If a woman loved me she would not leave me in the dark."

"Are you suggesting that George does not love me?" Georgiana's voice sounded challenging again. "He told me he did."

"It is very easy to tell someone that."

"Is it? How many women have you told?"

"None," he had to admit.

"And you claim it is easy?"

Fitzwilliam closed his eyes and recalled the instructions Caroline had given him when she had helped him get ready. She had told him he should not contradict a stubborn girl too much because it would push her in the opposite direction. He wished he had paid more attention to her words and not so much to the fact that she was helping him.

Chapter Twenty

Posted on Friday, 1 August 2003, at 7:02 a.m.

Colonel Fitzwilliam felt he had to regain the upper hand in this conversation. At the moment Georgiana was besting him. He should not be giving her the impression that she could corner him by saying he knew nothing about love -- he did. He had his own definite ideas about love and just because he had not yet put them into practice did not mean he did not have any.

He recalled his conversation with Caroline and felt faintly unsettled. She had noticed he had ideas. She had not told him he could not know anything because he had not experienced it. Of course that might be because Caroline herself had not experienced love either, but that was not what he would like to assume first. He preferred to think it was because she did not instantly dismiss his opinion as not being valid.

"When had you planned to inform your relatives that you were planning on leaving England?" he asked, sounding formal. He had to get away from the topic of love.

Georgiana gave him a haughty look. "Oh, when everything has been arranged. But honestly, would anyone care?"

"They would not care if you let them know not to," he said in response to her evident self-pity. "That is how it works."

"I do not know what you mean."

"If you push people away, they will stop coming to you." Even if she might want them to support her, her attitude was turning them away. She was haughty and she enjoyed her misery, it seemed. It was difficult to help someone with that attitude. The temptation was strong to let her continue to enjoy it.

"That is what happened to George."

"George, whatever misconceptions he might have, is not a member of the family." As he spoke those words he wondered whether Wickham wanted to be one or if he had wanted that in the past. It was impossible to become one, so he had done the next best thing?

"He is now," Georgiana said curtly, evidently restraining herself from saying more.

"A member of the family has certain duties and obligations. You know our family have always taken those very seriously. If you really want my take on it I would say you have married into the Wickham family and not the reverse." He took care to keep his voice firm, but gentle enough. Antagonising Georgiana would not help in the least. Wickham had not shown himself to care very much about obligations to the family, which included informing his wife of his whereabouts and being honest with her. That had to be said, even if Georgiana was not going to like it.

"What is your point, Richard?"

"My point is that you see things differently from us." He wondered if any real conversation with her was possible. To anything she replied with an accusation of him or a defence of Wickham, but never with a real answer. "It makes conversation a bit difficult."

"I am not difficult."

"That is a good example of what I mean. I am talking about conversation being difficult; you reply that you are not difficult. Either you are incapable of conversing, or you are unwilling. Whatever it is, other people give up if this lasts too long."

"You keep telling me things like that."

"Perhaps you ought to listen for once then?"

"How come your opinion is the truth? Mine is."

Fitzwilliam did not think he ought to grace such stupidity with a direct answer. "Well, then. Let us have it your way. What would you like to tell me? Why did you marry him?" Darcy had not told him all the particulars, he was sure, and perhaps Georgiana could tell him different things. Darcy had focused on the scandalous nature of it, whereas Georgiana would feel she had been justified.

"Because I loved him," Georgiana said with conviction. "You would probably not believe me, but --"

"I believe you. Go on." He did not doubt that she loved Wickham. What he doubted was whether Wickham deserved that love.

"Last summer he was really nice to me. He was really interested in me."

"Where did he find you?" He was her other guardian and as far as he knew Georgiana was always either at Pemberley or with her brother. In neither situation would he have expected Wickham to dare and approach her, but it had happened anyway. It was likely that the first contact had happened at Pemberley, with a little help from Georgiana's companion. He knew she had been instrumental in the elopement. Darcy had told him that much.

"At Pemberley. In the park."

Naturally Georgiana had been allowed to roam the park alone in her own home. It angered Fitzwilliam that Wickham had taken advantage of that. "You spoke."

"Yes. We spoke. We took walks together."

"And you liked him."

"I did."

"And you liked him well enough to elope."

"We had intended to get married and ask my brother for his approval, but..."

"But what?"

Georgiana coloured. "It was difficult to resist temptation. You know how it goes," she said hurriedly, regretting that she had mentioned this.

Colonel Fitzwilliam did not. "Temptation is by no means unavoidable." He had been travelling with a woman for days and he had been able to resist as well. He should think that anyone placed in a less dangerous situation -- with a young girl at that -- would have no problems resisting anything. Perhaps it was simply he who considered a girl's age to be of importance. Wickham might not have cared about it, nor about such a girl's inability to put things into perspective. "Especially when one is thinking of a woman's reputation."

"My reputation would not be harmed, he said, because only the two of us knew."

That sounded very much like what he had said to Caroline, but Caroline was not a young girl. She was very much in charge of her own reputation. Although the similarities unsettled him, he told himself that the cases were different nevertheless. "I see." He could see how Georgiana would have believed Wickham. Caroline had believed him too, but she was older and he was not a rake. There was such a thing as friendship between men and women, without rakish undertones.

But while Georgiana did not realise it, the Colonel did. Wickham had crossed a line. Even if he had been in love with the girl, he should have restrained himself and he should have gone the proper route. Fitzwilliam was aware that not all men were strong, not even army men, but Wickham could at least have tried.

This, and his having failed to live up to other standards of respectability, did not paint a very favourable picture of the man. Georgiana would never believe it, of course, unless she began to see Wickham with different eyes.

A marriage could not be undone. Fitzwilliam could, however, hope that Wickham's unsavoury friends disposed of him before the trip to the plantation took place. That was something he could not even hint at here, though. "What happened to your money?" he asked. It should cover a large part of the trip, perhaps even more. Why had Wickham needed to gather funds?

"I gave it to George."

Colonel Fitzwilliam was not surprised to hear that. It sounded very much as though Wickham had taken off with Georgiana's money. That would mean Georgiana could wait forever and he would never return. What they were going to do now was not something he could decide on alone. He would have to speak to Caroline first.

After a little small talk he took his leave of his cousin and told her he would call on her again soon, because he would not yet return to England. He did not mention his companion. She would tell him if and when he could.

Although the Colonel had feared she might have gone to the park, he found Caroline in the hotel's side garden, an opened book on her knees and with two little girls giving her flowers. The girls giggled when he appeared and then they ran off. "Friends?" he inquired. "And whose book is that?"

She smiled at him. She was happy to see him back. "Theirs."

He took a closer look. "I see." It was indeed a bit simple for someone Caroline's age, but it was in French and it might be that she had used it for practice. He had better not mention that.

She closed it and put it on the garden table. "Tell me."

"Where do I start?" Georgiana had been such a difficult conversationalist that he could not replay their conversation instantly. He could not remember a logical sequence in it.

"Your conclusion would do nicely." Caroline smiled encouragingly.

"He has taken her money. He might not return."

She reached out and pulled a chair nearer to her. She considered telling him that she was still safe, but he could see that for himself. "Sit down. I do not want to keep looking up to you." This conclusion called for some discussion.

"But I like it when women do," he teased.

"You know I do not. Sit."

He obeyed. "Are you my friend, Caroline?"

She looked startled. "Why? What do you mean?" She asked herself if she was. What was a friend? Perhaps he had not liked that she had said she did not look up to him. She did, in some way, but she did not think she should say so.

"Just a little idea about friendships that I had earlier. You must be my friend if you dare to order me."

"I suppose so," Caroline said with a little smile. "But why?"

"Because I would be more mindful of your reputation than Wickham was of Georgiana's. The temptation was too difficult to resist, she said."

"Temptation?" Caroline looked genuinely appalled. "I cannot believe she dared to mention that to you! It is not something one should talk about, especially not ladies and especially not to gentlemen." She did not know enough about temptation to even consider talking about it either.

"Or young ladies. Perhaps you would not want me to mention it then." Curiously enough he wished she would be interested, although he did not really know how to discuss such a topic without shocking a lady even further and she was evidently shocked.

Caroline's curiosity won out. "I should like to know what she said."

There he was, willing to discuss the subject, and there was not much to report. Perhaps he would not shock her unduly after all. "Not very much, because I did not go into it. I said I believe one can resist out of consideration for the lady."

"Any temptation is better resisted, but which one was relevant here? Resisting elopement?"

Although it had also been a dig at his inability to resist teasing her, he marvelled at her tying this into things somehow and he almost laughed, but the topic at hand prevented that. "Er, no. The temptation of living as husband and wife before one is married." He thought he had phrased that very tactfully, all things considered.

A look of confusion appeared on her face. "What we are doing, in other words?" She could see why that would make him blush. It was not a nice discovery to find themselves guilty of the same thing they condemned Wickham for.

"No!" he exclaimed. "No, no! Living as husband and wife. We are mere pretending to be that."

"Is it not the same?" That appeared to relieve her, although she still looked puzzled.

"No!"

"Well, I had trouble sensing similarities between you and Wickham. I am glad you cleared up for me that there are none, although I do not know the difference between living and being that you are referring to."

"What do you know of...er...husbands?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked curiously. He would not like to say anything wrong, but that was difficult if he did not know how much she knew.

"Apparently I know very little and I would like to know even less." Caroline kept her eyes fixed on the flowers in her hand.

"That," he said dryly, "is an impossible option."

"And then?" she asked after a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"I thought you were going to enlighten me."

"No, I was not."

A voice called out in English all of a sudden. Someone was passing in the street. "You look delicious, Mrs Fitzwilliam. You are blending into the flowers behind you, all loveliness. I wish I had my things with me." But then, after a quick look at Colonel Fitzwilliam, the English painter touched his hat and walked on. "Good day, Colonel, Mrs Fitzwilliam."

"Oh," said Caroline, a little nonplussed.

"You look delicious, Mrs Fitzwilliam," the Colonel mimicked in contempt. The scowl was still on his face.

"Why, thank you, but why do I have the feeling you do not mean it?"

"Tell me you are not swayed by such hollow words. I can just imagine Wickham speaking them to Georgiana. She told me he had been nice to her. Can you see how it must have gone?" He steered her away cleverly so she would not get the opportunity to ask any questions about his reaction.

"I can see how that must have gone, indeed. She had not been exposed to as many flatterers as I have when he approached her. My head was turned by my first one as well and possibly by a few more, until I discovered the compliments were not about me, but more about the speakers. Some seem intent on breaking the record for making as many girls blush as possible, regardless of how pretty or ugly they are. It gives them a reputation among the other men, does it not? I do not always co-operate, unless I like the fellow."

"Cynical devil. Some of them must have been sincere and by not acknowledging their sincere effort at flattery you must have wounded them."

"That grieves me deeply," Caroline said unfeelingly. "You cannot deny that they are often being ridiculous. I am sure you have flattered many a lady in your days and looking back upon it, you must see --"

"Excuse me," he interrupted. "My days? Are my days past?" He was not sure whether to object to this notion.

There was a definite twinkle in her eyes. "Your days are most certainly past." Suddenly it struck her she had become more comfortable sitting in the garden after his arrival. Perhaps it was because the sun broke through more often and it had become a little warmer, although for a large part it would be because she enjoyed his company and the way she could say anything, even awkward things, without feeling awkward.

Colonel Fitzwilliam protested. "I am neither very old nor very dull."

"I did not say you were. If we consider such behaviour to be gentlemanlike because nearly all gentlemen engage in it, then I must say I have caught you exhibiting some ungentlemanlike behaviour and entertaining many an ungentlemanlike notion."

"Is that good or bad?"

"That would depend on the lady you were with. Some might indeed consider it old and dull, others might not. But we were speaking of Wickham," she reminded him. "And of his living with Georgiana as husband and wife, which you were going to explain to me."

"My days of shocking ladies are past. You just said so," he countered. He had understood that she did not want to know anything about that subject. Had she changed her mind?

"Well now," she leant closer to his chair and lowered her voice, although there was no one around and certainly no one who spoke any English. "You would tell me to enlighten me, not to make me blush. Friend to friend. Just so I might avoid the situation myself."

"You already know how to do that," he muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I believe the rationale behind not informing young ladies is that they will not be tempted. It is done to protect them from themselves."

"Georgiana was and yet she was not informed. There does not seem to be a logical connection between not being told and not being tempted." She was curious about this knowledge that was believed to have such an effect on people.

"I really do not care myself if you are tempted, Caroline." After all, he was the prime candidate to suffer from the result. "But you might." Colonel Fitzwilliam realised what he had just said. He would not care if she was tempted. The situation between them must have gradually changed, for he distinctly recalled setting out from England with a woman he liked to antagonise, not a woman he liked well enough with not to mind her being tempted.

"Please allow me to make my own decisions in that regard."

He smiled at her. "I knew you would be able to." He remembered thinking that when he had been talking to Georgiana. "By posing as your husband, I..."

She observed he had some difficulties with the subject. It was not her intention to make him uncomfortable. "Never mind. Do I need the knowledge to deal with Georgiana's situation?"

"No, you do not, as long as you accept that Wickham is a rake and I am not."

"I must, to preserve my own dignity. Now tell me what else she said. We have been dwelling on trivial issues for far too long."

Chapter Twenty-one

Posted on Sunday, 3 August 2003, at 3:25 p.m.

It was not until nightfall that they discussed which one of them should go to visit Georgiana another time. Before then, they had merely speculated on where Wickham could have gone. "It is better for you to go," said Caroline. "After all, I cannot be here when you are."

"No," Fitzwilliam replied, observing how she draped herself across the bed. He remembered her discomfort on the first night. Now she was sufficiently at ease to throw herself onto their bed without colouring. She had embraced practicality very quickly, he noted approvingly.

They had very little else to do apart from eating and taking walks around the town, and he supposed all the walking had made her a little tired, tired enough to forget about elegant postures at any rate. He did not whether it was flattering that she did not have to be elegant for him anymore. He wondered if he could relax a little as well by taking of his waistcoat. It was warm in the room. "Do you think someone would ask us for a marriage certificate?"

"I would find that presumptuous and I would be tempted not to produce it."

He had to smile at that. "You would not be able to, even if you were not tempted. What I meant was: you could easily pretend to be Mrs Fitzwilliam to Georgiana. She cannot check it anyway. When we are back home is soon enough to worry about what we should do about her thinking that."

"Would she not wonder how we met?" They belonged to the same circles and had mutual friends, but they were not known to be good acquaintances themselves. Still, it had required only one meeting to change that.

"No. She eloped with a rake. Do you really think she would question other people's...connections?"

Caroline sat up straight. Indignation plainly showed on her face. "I would never elope with a rake!"

"I was hoping you would compare me to Wickham, not yourself to Georgiana."

"I have never met the man," she replied evasively. She would have called Fitzwilliam a rake a few days ago, but she was no longer sure she would. Thinking about it, she knew she would not. He had proved himself a very decent gentleman. Of course he displayed his eccentricity a little more in the privacy of this bedchamber, but it was nothing she really disapproved of.

"I need a woman's opinion and you are the only woman available."

Caroline stretched out on her side, her head on the pillow and her face turned towards him. "So I must do it."

"No, I am waiting for you to agree that it is the best option. You must never do anything." He got up from his chair and paced the room, tossing several items at her when he came across them.

"What are you throwing at me?" she cried, feeling herself being hit on the hip by a hard object. "My hairbrush. What are you throwing that for?"

"I am provoking you into action. I do not know what else to do."

"What sort of action?"

He saw her get off the bed with a rustle of her gown and a much too brief display of stockings. "Thinking action."

She had had her back towards him while she had picked the objects off the bed, but when she turned she observed that he was unbuttoning his waistcoat. She knew what would happen if he continued and closed the curtains around the bed as a precaution. He seemed to think thinking action happened right before sleep and he was going to undress. She took her nightgown and closed herself in so she could finish before he came to disturb her.

Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled to himself. She was clever. He hardly had to say anything. He had barely changed into his nightclothes when she came out of hiding. "Without warning? You might have seen me," he scolded her good-naturedly. He knew as well as she did what her little gasp had meant the other day.

"I know you well enough by now to be able to survive that," she commented untruthfully, putting away her gown and other items of clothing. She glanced at him when she sat down at the mirror to do her hair. "But you are wearing your nightshirt backwards."

He took a look at himself and grinned. "You are right." The mistake was quickly corrected. It only required him to take his arms out of the sleeves, fortunately for Caroline.

"Why did you do that?" She pulled the pins out of her hair and laid them one by one on the dresser.

"To see whether you would notice."

"You could just as easily have asked me if I look at you." She brushed her hair and quickly braided it. Then she set about the other small tasks that ought to be done before bedtime. He was faster than she was and when she reached the bed he was already in it.

"Finally," he said.

She gave him a quick look, but it was too dark to discern anything. It was, however, unexpectedly pleasant to be welcomed into bed by something more animated than a hot water bottle. At home it was always lonely and silent. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You have still not said that you will go to Georgiana."

"And you believe that by ensuring that I cannot be distracted by anything because it is dark in here I will say yes?"

"Yes," he said simply.

They talked for a while about what she could say, until Caroline felt too tired to continue. For another hour after that she still made the occasional comment, however, greatly amusing Fitzwilliam until he fell asleep between two of her remarks.

In the morning Caroline was up early to lay out her clothes for later in the day. As she looked through her jewellery, she realised she did not have a wedding ring. They had travelled for so many days as a married couple without wearing rings! Well, she had rings, but she was fairly sure Richard did not. It worried her enough to draw open the bed curtains on his side to inspect his hands even though he was still asleep.

Halfway during her inspection he opened his eyes, for she had had no qualms about partly uncovering him in her quest and he had felt that. "Is there a fire?" Although it was not an unpleasant sight to wake up to Caroline hanging over him in her nightgown. He had considered remaining silent so as not to disturb her, but he was too curious.

"You are not wearing a wedding ring," she said in dismay, holding up one of his hands.

He did not need to look at his hand, because he was familiar with it, but he grasped her hand so she would not let go. "I suppose you now want us to go to a jeweller's after breakfast to replace our lost rings. Do you think we have that kind of money with us?"

"Er...I do not know." If he asked her that, then they probably did not. Her face fell.

He tugged at her hand. "We do not. Never mind the ring. The impression comes with the behaviour, not with the appearance."

Caroline knew she was facing a difficult task. She took a deep breath before she was shown into the lion's den. Very little had been planned, because Georgiana's reaction was an unknown factor, but she had dressed with care and Richard had said he approved, even though a second later he had said he also approved of her in her nightgown.

They had not had the sort of money needed to buy two new rings, but she had sacrificed one of her necklaces in return, so that whatever her behaviour, her appearance would pronounce her to be a married woman. It had cost her very little begging too.

"Caroline!" Georgiana cried in amazement upon beholding her visitor. "What are you doing here?"

"Listening. Tell me what happened." Her voice was sweetly coaxing, but not too much so. She walked over to the girl and placed her hands on her shoulders, looking her intently in the eyes. Only a tough and evasive spirit would not respond to this assault on her co-operation. Georgiana, she thought, was not that tough. She had to succumb to the tone, the look, the touch. It had happened before, with someone else.

Richard, though bless him, had not been able to do this, through no fault of his own. Caroline's intent gaze softened a little more. She touched Georgiana's pale cheek. "You do not look well. Have you been eating properly? What happened?" Her hand trembled a little, unsure as she was whether she was going to be questioned herself.

Georgiana's eyes welled up with tears. "I have been unable to eat for days."

"Why is that, Georgie?" Caroline asked softly. She had never spoken to Georgiana like this and it was not something she was in the habit of doing to anyone. It was surprising how little effort it cost her. She must be possessing more kindness than she had previously imagined.

"I miss George." The tears flowed freely now. "I miss him so much."

Caroline pulled Georgiana into a comforting hug. She could not help but feel sorry for the girl. "Where is he, dear?"

"I do not know."

"When will he be back?"

Georgiana began to sob. "I do not know. I want him to hold me."

"Hmmm." Caroline frowned at the wall, slightly disconcerted by this revelation. She did not want to know about this.

"I want him to touch me."

"Hmmm." That disconcerted her a little more. She did not want to know about that at all.

"And kiss me."

Caroline had no soothing murmur ready for that, merely a blush Georgiana could not see.

"A proper married-people kiss, one that lasts several minutes and that leaves me breathless," Georgiana said after a few moments of silence. She could tell from a stiffening of Caroline's body that she was venturing into shocking territory.

"Oh," her companion said weakly. Breathless. Dear Lord. She supposed that Richard's kiss on her forehead, though leaving her somewhat affected, did not fall into this category. More was possible?

"But like Richard, I suppose you will have no clue what I mean." Georgiana pushed her visitor away and looked her in the eye. Then a thought struck her. "Or do you? Are you here with him?" She realised she had not received a reply to her question what Caroline was doing here. The thought of Richard made her more hostile.

Caroline clasped her hands behind her back for some necessary support. "I am," she said calmly.

"Then you must understand me." Georgiana raised her chin and looked at her defiantly. "I do not see why you came to lecture me, in that case. You have not got any decency to speak of yourselves. As far as I know you two are not married." She smiled almost gleefully. "And yet you are here together."

Caroline unclasped her hands and brought both of them forward, having forgotten on which one she had put the wedding ring. "We are respectably married," she said as calmly as possible, holding out the correct hand after ascertaining which one that was. Inwardly she was becoming very angry.

That surprised Georgiana. She frowned, but quickly recovered herself. "You are. Yet kisses shock you? What kind of marriage is that? I do not suppose you understand love. A valuable connection for a trade girl, was he not? The son of an earl."

Over the years Caroline had learnt how to deal with cutting remarks, but they had never occurred without some initial animosity on both sides. It had never been in return for kindness and she was startled. She took a step back and stared at this new Georgiana. There was no sign of the young and friendly girl she used to know. Instead there was only bitterness and hostility -- and cruelty. It was the tone that perhaps shocked her the most.

"Oh, am I shocking you, respectably married Mrs Fitzwilliam?" Georgiana sneered. "So respectably that you do not even know how to kiss? Have you not learnt to give your husband what he desires?" She appeared to be thrilled that she knew something Caroline did not, or that she had succeeded where Caroline had failed.

Caroline tried her best not to betray that she had never quite understood what wives were supposed to give to their husbands precisely, but she could not help being silent and shocked as she tried to imagine what Georgiana was referring to. She had never got any closer than vague suppositions and the negative feelings that these suppositions had invoked with their vagueness. People had never more than hinted, because this was a topic nobody should talk about.

Georgiana was watching her closely for signs of confusion. "Am I right?"

She found her voice again, looking aghast. "I cannot believe you would speak about this subject!"

"It is only unmarried women who cannot speak about this. There should not be any secrets between two married women."

"I think you are mistaken, Georgiana," she said in determination, not wanting to be pulled into a discussion about a subject about which she knew nothing and where revealing her ignorance would expose her as not being truly married.

Georgiana looked at her reflectively. "Of course talking about it would require some experience. Perhaps you are not attractive enough to your husband for him to claim what is rightfully his. I do not suppose there can be much love between the two of you."

Caroline's eyes flashed angrily at the girl's derisive tone, but she refused to defend her own attractiveness. It was not important. "A man who loves his wife does not claim anything." She thought of Richard. He would not think of it like that. She was sure he did not, because he would love his wife. He had almost admitted as much.

"Neither does a man who does not love his wife."

Indignant thoughts tumbled through her mind, but she was too upset to voice them sensibly without possibly losing her temper. "Decency forbids me from giving you a proper lecture on love, Georgiana, but take it from me, you know very little about the feeling." She had to stop herself from sinking as low as Georgiana. It would be best if she left immediately before she could say anything she might be reproached for.

Georgiana maintained a studiously bored appearance. "I am glad decency forbids you, Mrs Fitzwilliam, though I might possibly be amused by your romantic notions."

"I see no reason to continue my conversation with you, Georgiana," Caroline decided. "Good day. May your manners improve with time."

Chapter Twenty-two

Posted on Wednesday, 6 August 2003, at 3:15 a.m.

When Caroline returned, she was on the verge of tears. "It made me so sad. I do not think there is anything we can do." She hung her head. The visit to Georgiana had thoroughly depressed her.

Fitzwilliam, who had been waiting nearby, took her to a small café with a quaint little courtyard. He stationed her in the furthest corner and ordered some coffee and pastries. Caroline had not recovered in the meantime and she was still looking glum. She had her handkerchief out as if she had needed it to dry her eyes. He reached across the table for her hand and stroked it with his thumb. "Caroline?"

She shook her head sadly. "I gave her more kindness than I had and it did not work. Why did I come here?" Her mission had failed. She would have to go home with the knowledge that she had been horribly mistaken in a person.

"You cannot give anybody more kindness than you have."

"I have failed. I misjudged her." She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.

"You have not failed. Eat your pastries. They are delicious."

"How do you know?" She had not seen him eat anything yet.

Fitzwilliam smiled. "I ordered them." He withdrew his hand from hers to start eating. He could not get her to do that if he did not start himself.

It was difficult to remain sad and depressed in his company if he sent her little smiles. She might have come for nothing, but she had found a friend she wound otherwise not have gained. "Oh, and what is a married-people kiss?" she asked after a while. That was still on her mind and she rarely abandoned matters that were on her mind.

For a moment it appeared as though he was going to explain, but then he very evenly said, "no idea."

Caroline did not believe him. "You might as well have a sign on your forehead that says you are lying." Now she had a second thing to be intrigued about. Why would he lie to her?

He frowned. "Did Georgiana talk about this?" How had the girl known to hit upon the one topic that had preoccupied Caroline the day before? He wondered if Caroline had manipulated the conversation in any way to ask about married people. She was clever enough to steer people to provide her with answers unknowingly.

"Yes. What is it?"

He did not know whether she was truly clueless or merely angling for such a kiss. The latter was something that did not make too much sense to him -- yet. "Do you really not know?"

"No," she said emphatically. "Can it make one breathless?" she asked with audible scepticism. "How..." On her way back she had tried to imagine it, but she could not believe it was possible. It would not happen to her, at any rate.

"It would not affect us older folk in such a way," Fitzwilliam said in amusement. Her baffled grimace seemed genuine and he had to smile at it. "Do you ever swoon?"

"No," Caroline replied in a proud voice. She was hardly still an impressionable eighteen-year old.

"There you have it."

That was letting him off too easily. She did not give up. "But what does it look like?"

"Not being married I could not possibly say with conviction what a married-people kiss is." And he most certainly would not allow himself to be drawn into any admissions as to whether he had ever been breathless.

"But without conviction?"

He looked cautious. "I have a fair idea." All men past a certain age would have a fair idea, some a little more than others.

"Would you care to share that idea?"

No, he would not. "It seems a childish term for an adult activity." And an impossible subject to discuss with ladies whose opinions he valued.

"But older folk would not be affected," Caroline said cleverly. "You said so. I am older folk. Why can you not tell me?"

He decided not to pursuer the older-folk angle. She had him there. "How do you plan to abuse the knowledge?"

"I do not plan to abuse or use the knowledge. I am merely curious."

"In due time it will happen to you, Caroline. Wait for it. You will know." He was not quite satisfied with that answer himself and he could see she was not either. That served him right for echoing his mother.

"I hate it when you are being self-righteous," Caroline said in frustration. "I want to know it in words. So that I might know when someone is taking liberties with me or when someone is talking about it merely to make me feel stupid because they know I..." She held herself back just in time.

It seemed to him that one could not easily take liberties with Caroline. She was not the type. The thought of young men trying to take liberties with her almost made him laugh. And to speak of liberties in the case where they would occur was not quite right. "No liberties are taken where they are given." He wondered about the last thing she had said. Had Georgiana said things with the intention to make Caroline feel stupid?

"What are you talking about? Are you suggesting I am wanton?" She knew he could not really be suggesting that, but she wished to know all the same.

"No, I am not. Far from it. I meant that nobody would take liberties with you."

"Why? Am I unattractive?"

He evaded that question easily. "You are not what they are looking for, but do not feel sad about it." She should be happy about it.

Caroline felt she was not quite receiving the answers she was after. "I can insult you too, Colonel, and pretend that I am doing you some sort of service. I feel particularly insulted by your notion that I am incapable of handling the knowledge you are keeping from me."

"The more private the subject, the more formal your address," he noted. "I told you why I will not tell you, but you refused to believe that I could not tell you with conviction."

"Of course. Why are we constantly warned against men if they are all innocent?" she asked sarcastically.

"Tell me the real reason you want to know," he said suddenly. "I do not believe you want or even need to guard yourself against men." He assumed she was merely curious, but had the ladies of her acquaintance not been sophisticated and eager enough to have informed her before?

She looked down, away from his eyes. If he had seen through that excuse, what else could he see? "It unsettled me."

"And do you not think it possible," he said gently, "that I feel unsettled by your questions?" He could not tell her precisely why and he hoped she would not ask. Ever since embarking on this trip he had found himself considering some new insights into life and people with a much greater frequency than had happened before. That in itself was unsettling, never mind the reactions she sometimes evoked in him.

"You?" She stared at him in surprise.

He nodded. "Me."

"Well, it makes it easier if we both are," she decided brightly. She did not want to ask him why he felt unsettled. "Tell me."

He shook his head. "You think I am toying with you, Caroline. I am not. I could describe it to you in words, but --" He was afraid she would like the description less than the actual thing. She had too active a mind simply to close her eyes and wait. If he told her something now, the description would be altered in her mind and there was no predicting how it would come out eventually.

It was far easier to predict how he would come out of an eventual demonstration. He had never before been so tempted to demonstrate it and he had never before been so absolutely determined not to give in. He was no rake.

Fitzwilliam looked aside. At the entrance to the courtyard a man was saying goodbye to a woman. "If we are in luck he will demonstrate it to you in an instant." He felt relieved at this timely stroke of luck and he smiled.

"How do you know?" Caroline tried not to stare too openly. She had always been taught that was unmannered, but she was fascinated and fascination was worth more than manners -- right now. After she had been enlightened she could return to being a proper lady.

"He is standing too close to her to be disinterested," Colonel Fitzwilliam observed analytically. He was very glad for the improper Frenchman who was about to flaunt conventions for his sake. Now he would have nothing to do with the corrupting of Caroline's mind. "That is always a sign of...well, a sign of imminent intimacies." As he spoke the last word he realised he should think before he spoke. He should not say things she might have questions about. By now he could well imagine her questioning him relentlessly about the definition of intimacies, or even about why standing close to a woman led to intimacies, or even why he was able to predict that.

Caroline stealthily observed what was taking place between the man and the woman. "They must be missing each other very much when they are apart. I think it is very sweet," she said wistfully.

Fitzwilliam shot her a surprised look. "I thought you would question me further." He admitted to liking the conclusions she was drawing, but he had expected a request for elaboration.

"I have an inkling that it would be futile to question you further. I shall leave it for another occasion. I am not shocked, you know." She ostensibly returned her attention to eating her cakes, but her mind was elsewhere. "Georgiana. She tried to shock me. She sensed I was either uncomfortable or ignorant and she implied that I was not a proper wife and that I was not attractive enough for you to claim what was rightfully yours because I did not know what she was talking about, but..." She blushed and her voice dropped to a whisper. "I do not really know what would be rightfully yours."

"Neither do I." He wondered why she had taken all that so seriously. She was nobody's wife.

"You must know." She looked at him in confusion.

"Oh, in some sense I suppose I know what is meant by it," he admitted. "But that does not mean I see it that way too." Or that he would tell her.

"And you will not claim?" she asked hopefully.

"I gave you my opinion earlier." He glanced at the French couple, who were still saying goodbye. "Did he claim anything, you think?"

"Not unless she did as well."

"I feel sorry for Georgiana that she felt she had to enlighten you about the workings of an unsatisfactory marriage," Fitzwilliam said calmly.

"She implied that you would find anything else unsatisfactory."

He raised his eyebrows. "Allow me to make my own decisions in that regard. Did you not say something like that as well?"

"I did." She drank her coffee before it turned cold. "I think we should return to England. I was wrong. She is a mean-spirited, bitter girl."

Whatever he said, Colonel Fitzwilliam could not really dissuade Caroline from wanting to go back. In a sense he agreed with her, for Georgiana had shown herself to be impossible. He, however, still thought of the girl as his responsibility and whatever she might be doing to herself now, there had once been another girl, one he had loved as a cousin or even a younger sister. He owed it to that other girl to help her and he would not be helping her at all if he left her here alone.

Wickham, if he was planning on returning at all, could not expect his wife to trespass on the hospitality of a French family for so long. The girl should be made to understand that the politest thing to do would be either to remove her to a hotel -- something for which she did not have the money, since Wickham had taken most of it -- or back to England. If he was really desirous of seeing Georgiana back, he would find her. Fitzwilliam was sure of it.

He put the suggestion to Caroline. While he spoke to Georgiana, she would confer with the French family. He could not imagine that the family would wish to keep Georgiana in France, since they had only acted out of goodness, not friendship. If relatives came to take the girl away, they would be happy for her.

They agreed on going back there after eating. Once decided on a particular course of action, it was best to start as soon as possible and not leave it till the next day. After all, there might also be people in England who had noticed their absence -- not that they had any reasons to connect one person to the other and to assume that they had left together.

Before going, Fitzwilliam sent an express to his aunt Catherine, so that a carriage would await them in Dover. He could not give a definite time, but he could calculate which day they would arrive. Lady Catherine would not refuse her nephew her carriage, he was sure, especially since word would get out that she had let her nephew travel post if she did not.

Louisa had put some pressure on Charles' London servants. They had let her know some interesting things. One such thing was that Miss Bingley had not taken her maid. This was strange, because she would be nothing without her maid if she had sought the company of one of her friends. They all placed a great value on people's appearances and Louisa knew Caroline depended heavily on her maid for that.

Mr Hurst refused to be interested or concerned with regard to his sister-in-law. He was of the opinion that she knew what she was doing and if she did not, she ought to know. He most certainly refused to accompany his wife to town and he talked her out of going. He ascribed it all to there being a man somewhere.

Colonel Fitzwilliam decided to discuss another matter with his cousin first before he would tell her they were going back to England. "You have insulted both my wife and me by suggesting that we do not have a satisfactory marriage, Georgiana." Although he had not wanted to discuss the matter with Caroline at length, her words had left a deep impression nevertheless and he had made a mental note to speak to his cousin about it.

Such a beginning was not what she had expected. Whatever she had said to Caroline, this was not a subject she would enjoy discussing with her cousin, someone she had always looked up to as a sort of surrogate parent. Had Caroline told her the same thing, she would have had her reply ready. Now she merely looked stricken.

"Was there any reason to insult her?"

Again she stayed silent. No, she could not think of a reason. No reason he would accept, at any rate.

"Well?" Fitzwilliam demanded.

"Did she speak about this to you?" Georgiana sounded incredulous. It was not a topic she would broach with her own husband. It stunned her that Caroline had apparently told Richard everything that had transpired. She had not given any thoughts to the fact that they might communicate.

"In a satisfactory marriage, Georgiana, we speak about everything that troubles us. Your suggestion that she was a bad wife was as uninformed as it was cruel."

Georgiana did not like to be called uninformed. George had informed her about this topic, after all, in what she assumed was a far more detailed manner than prim and proper people such as her cousin would inform their wives. "Would you deny that she is not very experienced at being a wife?"

He stared back at her coldly, as if she were a soldier who needed disciplining. "I know what you are referring to and which misconceptions you have on the subject, but precisely how my wife and I define marital relations and precisely when, where, how and for how long we indulge ourselves is not something for you to speculate on to her face."

She remembered that her cousin only rarely became angry, but that one should not take it lightly if he did. She wondered whether George would stand up for her if she told him about this confrontation. He would tell her it was not important and he would most certainly not go to either Richard or Caroline to say they had upset her. To have Richard defend Caroline was frankly a little frightening to her. If the reverse were also true she would always be facing two opponents instead of one.

"Did you hear me, Georgiana?" There was a certain vacant look in her eyes that made him ask the question.

He knew how to make her feel very small. "I heard you," she lied.

"Repeat what I said," he commanded. He was not sure she had been paying attention to his words.

"Y-Y-You...probably..." Georgiana looked at him helplessly. She was unable to repeat anything. "...told me that I am not allowed to make comments on the fact that you and your wife...er...do not..."

"I see I must repeat it for you." Fitzwilliam clasped his hands behind his back and seemed to derive some pleasure from having to say it again. "You are not allowed to address my wife on when, where, how or for how long she and I indulge ourselves, or even on how she and I define marital relations precisely." He was sure Caroline would agree with him, even if she appeared not to know what other people understood such relations to be. He still had some trouble believing that. However, she would agree with his precise definition of the matter -- after all, she had lived that way for a week already -- and that none of this was Georgiana's business.

Well, that took away her one advantage over the unimpeachable Caroline. Georgiana looked at the floor with a morose face.

"Have I made myself clear, Georgiana?"

"Very clear, Richard." She still had her eyes on the floor.

"I should like to add that it has probably always been unwise to antagonise Caroline, but that this has become a trifle more unwise now. Now, I still want you to repeat what I said, so that it may fix itself in your mind and we shall not have to deal with your nonsensical notions again." He looked at her expectantly.

She felt offended enough not to obey. Her notions were not nonsensical. "I thought it was too improper a subject to discuss. Your wife seemed quite shocked earlier."

"Repeat it!"

Georgiana gave a grudging shrug. "I am not allowed to speak to Caroline about whether...about how Caroline conducts herself as your wife."

"Neither may you speak to Caroline about how I conduct myself as her husband." He foresaw that some comments could be made about that if others were forbidden.

"Would that give either of you pain?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam stared at her. He had never known Georgiana as a girl who would willingly inflict pain on other people. Perhaps what was ailing her was so painful to herself that she no longer cared about others. He should not invite stinging comments by making her believe she could wound them. "No, it would not give us pain, but your stupidity might make us cringe." He obviously spent too much time with Caroline, he reflected, as that seemed something more likely to come out of her mouth than his.

"What if your words give me pain?" she cried, tears in her eyes. Almost everything they had said to her so far had given her pain. They did not seem to care about that at all. They were very selfish.

"We should not be hiding the truth from you just because you may be wounded. In the end, if it all becomes apparent to you, you would be wounded even more seriously. Truth does not hurt as much as lies." He paused for a few seconds. "We have decided to take you back to England."

Georgiana stared at him incredulously. "No!" George had told her to stay here. "You cannot take me. I am a married woman."

"Where is your husband then?" he asked, knowing she would have no answer. "We are taking you. If he wants you, he will know where to find you."

Chapter Twenty-three

Posted on Saturday, 9 August 2003, at 9:36 a.m.

Colonel Fitzwilliam had set them a stricter travel plan than he had used with Caroline. He wanted to stop as little as possible on the way to avoid two problems. The first, though it was unlikely, was that he did not want Wickham to catch up with them should he return unexpectedly. These matters were better solved in some drawing room than on the road. The second problem was that he could keep a better eye on Georgiana in a carriage than in an inn, when they must needs be separated. He was not sure she would not run away.

Although Georgiana seemed to have grudgingly accepted that they were taking her, she made it very clear that she was not going to be too co-operative. Fitzwilliam had never before heard her say she should ride forwards and not backwards to avoid sickness, but since he did not want any vomiting or incessant complaints, he let her have her way.

He remembered how displeased Caroline had been when they travelled through the night on the trip down and he was afraid to tell her that they were going to do it again. He was pleasantly surprised when she, after a glance across the carriage at Georgiana, suggested that they travel on until the next night.

The presence of the girl did not lead to lively conversation between the two others. The things that Caroline liked to talk about to Fitzwilliam were dangerous subjects in front of Georgiana. She wanted to know what would happen when they got to Rosings, to a Lady Catherine who knew nothing about their marriage, but she could not ask this without giving it all away.

"Have you ever been to Rosings?" Fitzwilliam inquired finally, after having racked his brains as well for something a seemingly married couple would talk about. They had no history, no common acquaintance, no children and not even pets. He, too, feared Rosings a little.

"I do not think I have had the pleasure." Caroline wanted to speak to him, but she was equally unable to come up with another subject. She was seated across from him, next to Georgiana, but she decided to move seats when he was looking at a map so that they might at least discuss the route and perhaps whisper. If Georgiana was rude, they could be rude too.

Fitzwilliam acknowledged her move with a little smile and held the map so that she would be able to see it too.

"Where are we?" she asked in a soft voice.

Here he was faced with the problem of pointing it out without hands. "Hold the other side for me if you will." She did so and he placed his finger on the map. "Here or thereabouts, heading this way."

She traced a line from his finger to the coast. "Will we again take this road?"

"We will." He was more intent on watching the sleek gold ring on her finger. It was almost part of the hand in its simplicity and yet his eyes were drawn to it irresistibly. He watched as the hand slid over the map in search of funny place names. "Is it a symbol of something, do you think?" he asked as he touched the ring.

"Oh, undoubtedly," she said lightly. "But that does not signify. It only means what you think it means. If you think a circle," she slowly traced circles on the map, "means never-ending...er...friendship, then it will."

He watched the circles. "Never-ending. Oh, that could be it." He pretended he had not noticed her hesitation before mentioning friendship. This was not the time to pursue that angle. Georgiana was already too interested.

After stopping for quick meal, they continued their journey. Caroline yawned behind her hand. The events of the day had been tiring and she wanted to close her eyes. Even though the previous time she had inadvertently leant against the Colonel in a carriage she had been shocked at herself, this time she considered that enough had changed between them to make the move a deliberate one. She moved a little closer and rested her head against his shoulder. It was still far from being as comfortable as a bed, but there were other small things that made up for that.

Fitzwilliam folded up his greatcoat carefully and placed it on his lap without disturbing her. He liked Caroline leaning against him, but her remembered from when he was little that there were more comfortable ways to spend the night in a carriage than sitting upright. He recalled what his mother had always done when he had been allowed to travel with her.

Caroline felt one arm reach behind her to exert a little pressure on her waist. It was not insistent enough to be an order, but inviting enough to tell her nothing bad would happen if she followed its guidance. As the hand slowly pulled her sideways, she suddenly understood the purpose of the coat. She lowered her head onto it.

Georgiana regarded them jealously from across the carriage, while Caroline tried to get her breathing under control. She held on to the arm he had used to pull her down, but he did not seem to mind that. With his arm holding her in place she could not suddenly be thrown onto the floor either, so this was a good thing.

Fitzwilliam closed his eyes and leant against the side of the carriage. It was hard and he kept hitting his head against it, but the discomfort was worth it. Caroline's holding his hand between hers prevented it from seeking out the most comfortable spot to rest it on, but that was probably for the best. Through his lashes he could see Georgiana staring at them. It made him wonder if this was an unusual position to take up. Did other men force their wives to sleep upright? He knew he had had no business placing his hand on Caroline's waist, but she had not seemed to mind at all.

Georgiana decided to follow Caroline's example and curled up on the other side when the others only continued to make her sad by doing such things. She would close her eyes and pretend they were not there.

In the morning they halted for breakfast. As Fitzwilliam was stretching his legs, he sought out Caroline to have a word in private. Something had been on his mind for a large part of the night and he had not had the opportunity to voice it outside Georgiana's hearing. "I hope that was not too inconvenient a position," he began. "But you might have taken up another without offending me." He hoped she had been comfortable and not merely polite.

Caroline considered her reply carefully. "It was...agreeable -- for in a carriage." Certain parts of her body were still stiff and she had to take care not to turn her head too quickly, but his nearness had been very agreeable.

"Thank you for your trust, Caroline," he said sincerely. She had trusted him well enough not to doubt his intentions. "But I should perhaps have asked you first." Or perhaps the gentlemanly thing to do had been not to do it at all.

She raised her eyebrows. "But you did." She placed her arm around his waist and pressed. "This is not asking?" It had been interpreted as a sort of question anyway.

"That is a far more agreeable manner of walking," he could not help but observe. Then he checked himself and brought up the other thing he had wanted to say to her. "Tonight when we stop for the night, I think we ought to take two rooms. We need our rest. I hope you will not feel this as a slight."

She looked at him seriously, visualising herself sleeping with her head on Richard's thigh, in a bed, in their nightclothes and no Georgiana watching. There was something there that Richard wished to avoid. It was perhaps too agreeable. "What would be so bad about one room?" Agreeable was not bad, was it?

"Does that mean that at Rosings we can actually talk again?" he asked, jumping over a few logical steps in between. Georgiana's presence deterred him from speaking much. He had to think too much about what he was saying.

"If your aunt does not throw us out of the house first," Caroline commented, smiling at his question. "And only if you tell me why we cannot talk at an inn."

"I think it would be wiser to wait," he said cautiously. "Before we do something we cannot undo."

Now what did that refer to? It was silly. There were very few things that could really be undone, for the memory of doing it would always remain. "You will not be surprised to hear that such a statement will have me wondering for the remainder of the trip."

"That should be our code of conduct. I will not make you wonder and you will not wonder."

"That is asking rather a lot of me. Mind, do not function?" If there was one thing she had trouble doing it was to stop herself from asking questions.

"I am asking things not to function either," Fitzwilliam said with a smile. "Temporarily."

"Which things?" she demanded immediately, but he shook his head.

Georgiana had considered running away in the beginning, but when they were taken further and further from Tours without stopping and she realised it would be foolish to do so where she had no acquaintances and no money.

She had, for a moment, contemplated stealing her cousin's money, but she had not been able to figure out where he kept it or indeed if he was the one who had the money. Logically she would guess it was Richard, but she had seen the money come out of Caroline's pocket once.

Neither her cousin nor Caroline had spoken very much to her. They had not spoken very much to each other either. She had feigned sleep a few times just to see whether they would then speak about her, but they had remained silent save for a few comments intended to ascertain whether the other was not bored.

Their smiles made her feel jealous and lonely. It was not fair that they had each other while she had no one. George should be with her or she with George. He had told her she would not be comfortable, but did that matter? She always thought Caroline would rather die than sleep in a carriage, yet she had acquiesced without protest and awoken without complaints.

She would have done that for George, despite the lack of comfort. The dull ache in her heart became more acute, thinking that. The pain was never gone, but every time she was reminded of George she felt a sharp stab ever since Richard and Caroline had arrived, followed by extreme sadness. She did not know whether the future would bring any relief. It seemed unlikely.

While she was staring at the ground unseeingly, someone placed an arm around her. Georgiana kept her eyes fixed on the ground to refuse all help, but she felt her resolve weaken at the comforting touch. She had wanted to find Caroline an evil woman who had torn her away from George, but she had not been able convince herself of that completely -- probably because Caroline was not that evil and because George had already gone before Caroline had arrived.

It was pleasant for once to have someone tell her she should eat, even if she did not acknowledge the kindness. This made her quite hungry during the trip, but she was too proud to ask for food.

When they stopped again she was surprised she was urged to eat with the same patience, as if her unwilling and rejecting attitude had not put Caroline off at all. She ate a little.

This time they spent the night at an inn, but since she was so tired she went to sleep almost straight after dinner, also to avoid conversation with Caroline, with whom she was sharing a room. She had not been nice to her, whereas Caroline had so far only been patient during the trip. Caroline had not been so excessively friendly as to make Georgiana distrust her, but she had not appeared to harbour any resentment for the things that had been said to her. Georgiana felt guilty enough to think it was best to remain silent for a while.

Georgiana woke to find Caroline just getting out of bed. "Hurry," Caroline said. "We have fourteen minutes."

"For what?" she asked, still sleepy.

"To get ready! He will be here in fourteen minutes." Then Caroline remembered that as Richard's alleged wife, she should not care whether he saw her undressed. She had come to realise that it was something that could not be avoided for very long if one repeatedly shared accommodations. Eventually, even if one cared, one caught one glimpse and then another, and then one would not care anymore. Perhaps she should say no more on the subject, or else she would have Georgiana question her again. "Get out of bed and get dressed."

"I will not get ready in fourteen minutes just for him." Georgiana closed her eyes. "He was not nice to me at all. I want to sleep longer."

"Do you think he would be nice to you if you ignored my orders?" Caroline asked testily. "Do not be such a child." She had been spared this recalcitrant nonsense yesterday due to Georgiana's fatigue, but now that the girl was rested she was back in full force.

Georgiana felt she had been ordered all too many times in her life. "Children follow orders. I do not. You and he may ask me to get dressed, but you cannot force me."

Caroline blinked at this reaction. She did not know what to reply without worsening the situation and finished dressing instead. Richard would have to handle it. The prospect of seeing him again was clouded by this business, though. She hurried her dressing and left the room after thirteen minutes, with one minute to spare. All this time Georgiana had deliberately not stirred except to yawn loudly and stretch and feign sleep.

Richard was studying his watch outside the room. He smiled when he saw her, but then he perceived her distress. "What is wrong?" He was afraid Georgiana had climbed out of the window or that she had found the key that Caroline had promised to hide.

"She is being impossible. I told her to get dressed and she refused."

He reminded himself of what he had wanted to stop functioning. He should stick to that. After a deep sigh he recollected himself. Caroline was a random female looking distressed. There should be a practical solution, as always. "Why do you not go downstairs already to order our breakfast? Remember that we stayed here last week. They will remember you. We shall join you in five minutes."

"Five minutes?" she stared at him. How would he manage in five minutes?

Fitzwilliam pressed his lips together firmly. He would not accept any opposition from the girl. "She will do as I say. You will see us in five minutes."

His authoritative manner worried her a bit. "I do not know you like that."

"You never will. And...er...she will not be flogged. Do not worry."

"Get up," Fitzwilliam advised his cousin. He did not expect her to obey instantly, but he did not worry. He had five minutes, after all.

She did not move.

He moved a chair close to the bed and sat down on it. "You have half a minute to get out of bed. The alternative might not be pleasant to you."

Georgiana gave a sign of life. "Go away."

"You know as well as I do that I will not. Ten seconds." He prepared himself for action.

There was no response.

"Five..." He told himself he was being kind by giving her enough opportunities. If she chose not to take them that was her own fault.

Georgiana began to speak. "Really, as if you are going to --"

Fitzwilliam had been counting down silently and he stood up in the middle of her sentence. With one swift movement he pulled the bed covers away and with another equally swift movement he dragged the girl out of bed. "Get dressed," he ordered. "And fast."

"I do not have to do what you say," she protested, but he frightened her. She had never expected him to drag her out of bed. She was unsure what he would do if she refused to dress herself.

"No, you do not. If you do not, however, I shall do it for you. Whichever you like best."

"I hate you!" she said, crying.

He looked back at her coldly. "I do not care. Get dressed."

Sobbing and with trembling hands she began to dress herself behind the screen in the corner. He was probably serious about going to do it for her if she did not.

Fitzwilliam looked out of the window or at his watch. "Hurry," he said after he saw they only had two minutes left. "Your time is up. I am coming to get you." He knew that doing her hair and things also took up some time.

"I am not done yet!" she protested.

"I do not care." He moved towards the screen and helped her pull her gown over her head because she seemed to be stuck under it.

Georgiana smoothed down her gown. "I need to --"

"You need to hurry." He looked at her back for buttons and buttoned her up quickly. Then he pushed her back into the room. "Hair," he said commandingly. "Give me a hairpin."

"You do not know what to do with a hairpin."

"Really? You underestimate me." He imitated what he had seen Caroline do to her hair. It was likely a very poor imitation, but he had his five minutes to think of. Caroline had done this with a few hand movements and he tried to do it as quickly as she had done. That seemed to work -- roughly. "Hairpins."

"On the dresser."

He pushed her towards it, keeping her hair in place with his other hand. "Stick them into your hair. We are going to have breakfast."

Georgiana looked at her reflection in the mirror and gasped. "Not like that!" Her eyes were red and her hair looked a fright.

"I shall do it for you if you refuse, but I am sure you hair will look better if you do it yourself." He glanced at his watch while she pinned her hair up. They would make it downstairs in exactly five minutes. "Come. We are going."

Chapter Twenty-four

Posted on Monday, 11 August 2003, at 1:49 p.m.

Colonel Fitzwilliam conducted himself admirably during the following two days and Caroline thought her own performance did not follow far behind. Not once did she invite him to tease her and in general she made sure that Georgiana was his only source of vexation. She ignored her own discomfort and set a proper example of an imperturbable lady.

Had she been alone with the Colonel, she would have complained about the cold and the heat and bumps in the road just to have him comment back to her. Now, she suffered them silently as she reminded herself there were worse things in the world.

Not even the waves transporting the boat across the Channel could draw a critical sound from her lips, though they were making her quite nauseous. Georgiana pretended to be mortally ill below decks and she needed her cousin's support to help her onto the shore.

Caroline had to do without it. Fitzwilliam gave her an apologetic smile. The fewer reasons she gave him to tease her, the more he admired her, so that for his peace of mind it would have been better had she behaved like herself.

Lady Catherine had not been informed that along with Georgiana her nephew would also be bringing another young lady. She was surprised when the footman announced Colonel and Mrs Fitzwilliam and Mrs Wickham.

As it might not be expedient to admit her ignorance of Fitzwilliam's marriage in front of Anne and Georgiana, she greeted Mrs Fitzwilliam very civilly, but raised an eyebrow at her nephew. To this he responded with a blank look, but she was not fooled. What was this new habit of the young generation to get married without her permission? They might even infect Anne with their improper notions. That was all the more reason not to question them in front of her daughter. Should Anne find out it was possible to get married without one's family's knowledge, she might be gone in an instant -- at a fortune-hunting suitor's insistence, of course.

Mrs Fitzwilliam was a little unsure of her reception by the great lady, so she was a little subdued in the beginning. As Lady Catherine focused all of her attention on interrogating Georgiana, who was very unwilling to be questioned, Caroline relaxed. She knew it might be of short duration, for when Lady Catherine was bored of Georgiana she would shift her attention to Richard and with the persistence she was demonstrating, that was inevitable.

She had not let go of his hand after her had led her to a seat and she had been clinging to it for support under a convenient fold of her gown. From things Lady Catherine was saying she gathered that everyone would think they were in the wrong if they told their true story. She was horribly confused. It had not felt so wrong to her at all. Perhaps here in the real world people saw things differently, but why?

Lady Catherine sent Georgiana upstairs and her niece was very eager to escape more questioning. Richard withdrew his hand from Caroline's as a precautionary measure when Anne was also sent upstairs to dress for dinner.

"Your marriage, Fitzwilliam," Lady Catherine began, barely waiting until the door had closed behind her daughter. "Is somewhat of a surprise."

"Yes, Aunt Catherine," he managed in a rather weak voice. It was best to say as little as possible, not to give any information unless his aunt pressed him for it if she was starting with understatements already.

"Your wife seems a very pretty and genteel sort of girl, Fitzwilliam -- now all you need to do is marry her, of course," she said matter-of-factly, enjoying the shock they displayed upon hearing her words. Did they think she was stupid? "I should have thought that a recently married couple would have other concerns on their minds than to travel to France for the sake of a cousin."

"Recently married couples always travel," he tried.

"Do they? Really, Fitzwilliam. I am aware of the practical arguments against that. One, Georgiana would have spoilt your happiness with her contrary, headstrong attitude. Two, your...wife will have had to share a room with the girl rather than with you. These are things one can think of beforehand and they would put a recently married couple off going. Therefore I do not think you are married at all."

"Because of that?" It was uncanny that what his aunt mentioned were precisely the problems that they had come across during the journey back.

"Yes, because of that."

"We might have chosen to suffer those hardships on the way back."

"In which case you would have made sure to take at least one maid to keep an eye on the girl. This whole venture reeks of bad preparation. Are you a military man, Fitzwilliam? How did you ever get promoted? I have been thinking of the practicalities of your trip ever since I received your express. I could see how you could travel to France alone to fetch a reluctant cousin, but I could not fathom how you would travel back alone with a married woman. Money can do a great deal, but you do not have very much of it and I did not count on Wickham having left Georgiana's fortune intact. In short, I could not see how you could procure yourself any respectability on the way."

That was, of course, a perspective Fitzwilliam had never considered. He had not even considered that his aunt might ask herself questions about the express. He had merely sent the express and hoped that she would send a carriage.

"Furthermore, in London you failed with Georgiana because you do not have any experience with love. I could not see why she would now suddenly agree to go with you." Lady Catherine studied the couple before her. They were very silent. She liked to have the upper hand in conversation. It gave her the opportunity to speak her mind without interruptions. "She would not have changed much, stubborn as she is. How could you suddenly have developed effective skills in dealing with stubborn young women, Fitzwilliam? It puzzled me."

Caroline looked down so nobody would think of her in that regard.

"But your being accompanied by a woman explains a great deal." Lady Catherine stopped there, interested in their reaction.

Fitzwilliam was unsure how this was meant. "What does it explain?" He was ready to defend Caroline should his aunt imply that she was also stubborn.

"I believe you and I agreed a few weeks ago that a woman might be more useful in dealing with Georgiana. Perhaps the time was then not yet right for my interference, which would explain why I did not succeed then." She strung them along to the positive side a little, admitting her failure, but then prepared to deliver another blow. "But sadly enough there is still the matter of your being married. The return journey and its practical problems are now clear to me, but I am still in the dark as to the conception of the plan. Where did you get yourself this woman and how did you get her to come along with you?"

"I do not think you need to know, Aunt Catherine." Fitzwilliam would rather not tell her the particulars, or else he would receive a similar lecture to the one Georgiana had had to listen to.

"Perhaps I should remind you that you are a guest in my house and that I have the right to turn away any guests who engage in despicable behaviour under my roof. I shall not ask you if you are married." At the moment that was a moot point. Lady Catherine did not miss much and in spite of the fact that she had been interrogating Georgiana, she had seen that this couple had been holding hands. As far as she knew people did not readily hold hands in company, especially not if they were indifferent about each other. Unfortunately she was not Fitzwilliam's mother and it was not her place to question him about such behaviour, nor to suggest that they be married as soon as possible. She should leave this bit of amusement to her brother and sister-in-law. She only wanted to give out a clear and serious warning.

Fitzwilliam wondered why she did not ask. Had his aunt suddenly developed tact and kindness? "Why not?"

"I gather it was your intention to avoid a scandal."

He nodded.

"You are in danger of failing. I am certain you went to France for good reasons. I am also convinced that you brought your cousin back for good reasons." Lady Catherine was thinking as she spoke. "It would be a shame if your efforts came to naught because of unforeseen complications. Had you or had you not foreseen that you would be bringing the girl back?" She supposed that they might have gone their separate ways after the trip if it had not been for Georgiana -- theoretically, of course. Anyone seeing them now would never believe they were willing to part.

"We had not. We wished to see..."

"We?" Lady Catherine looked at Caroline. The young lady must have played a greater role than she had assumed. "Were you previously acquainted with my niece?"

"With your niece and nephew, Lady Catherine. Your other nephew, Darcy, and vaguely with..." She glanced aside, wondered how she should refer to Richard in front of his aunt.

"Vaguely with this nephew. I see. Well, that clears matters up a bit. How well are you acquainted with my niece and nephew?"

"Darcy is my brother's best friend. He was staying with us when I left."

"Ah." Some more matters were cleared up now. She did not have to ask for the girl's name. She was aware of Darcy's friendship to Charles Bingley and she was -- with Anne's future in mind -- also aware of Bingley's having a sister named Caroline, who was not of the right age to be harmless. It was a relief that she turned out to have been a danger to Fitzwilliam and not Darcy. "Does Darcy know about the trip?"

"He does not know. I intercepted a letter from Georgiana that was meant for him. I knew from Darcy that his cousin was keeping an eye on Georgiana in London, so naturally I was a bit upset with him for allowing her to go to France and I ordered him to go after her."

"You ordered him, Miss -- Mrs Fitzwilliam?" Lady Catherine began to like this, from the interception of the letter to the order. It sounded like something she might have done herself.

"Yes, but he refused to go because he had failed. I felt I had to go, so I said so, and he said he wanted to see that. I could not even read a map."

"But you can now?"

"Yes, Lady Catherine. He taught me."

"Ah. If everyone could be sure that was all he taught you then there would not be any problem." With such an eager pupil she did not doubt that her nephew would be an equally eager instructor.

"That was all," Colonel Fitzwilliam said with a blush.

"It was not," Caroline protested.

Lady Catherine looked from one to the other with raised eyebrows. "I suggest you go and prepare yourselves for dinner." Her nephew was eager to get to his feet, but the young lady remained seated.

"He taught me very useful things," she said, realising that all of a sudden. She had never stopped to think about it yet. "Even if he says he did not. He is too modest. Some useful French and how to travel with little money, how to cut bread with a pocket knife..." She wondered why Richard had wandered off to the door already. Should he not be waiting for her?

Lady Catherine listened to it with a small smile. "I am glad to hear he has been employing his time decently. But you had better change for dinner now." She expected that the young lady could keep on gushing, but her nephew was squirming in misery by the door.

Caroline lowered her voice. "He also ordered me to learn how to get dressed in fifteen minutes."

Lady Catherine thought this a more dubious compliment and adapted her tone accordingly. "I am sure that sufficed for a country inn, but such military practices are hardly commendable in polite society."

Fitzwilliam did not have his usual room. He found his aunt had allocated a set of rooms to him and Caroline that were not at all to his liking. They both had their own bedchamber, but to get from one to the other they would first have to cross two small sitting rooms.

Lady Matlock had heard from her sister-in-law that Richard was expected -- as well as all of Lady Catherine's ideas and suspicions -- and because she had not seen him for a while, she had travelled to Kent. Having just arrived, she had heard from Lady Catherine that there was a Mrs Fitzwilliam, along with Lady Catherine's summary of the conversation that had just transpired, and this had intrigued her so much that she had gone upstairs to speak to her son, whom she had thought could be found in his room.

After knocking on the door to his sitting room and not receiving a reply, she had entered. Through an open door she had spotted him washing his face, so she had sat down near the window to wait. On the other side of the room she had been able to see through two open doors, into another bedchamber. Presumably that was where the alleged wife was staying. The Countess was in no hurry. With all these doors open between their rooms, one or the other would pass her eventually.

Her patience was rewarded when a young lady's voice cried, "Richard!" from one of the rooms to her left.

"What is it?" he called back.

"I wonder if you had noticed that your aunt gave us four rooms and two beds. She must be under the impression that you spent so much on our lodgings in France that we never had to share accommodations!"

"She might think you prefer grandeur."

"I do not prefer shouting! Really, if you asked me now I might say chatting in a bumpy bed is to be preferred to luxurious loneliness."

Lady Matlock listened with interest. The voice moved closer and she prepared herself for a confrontation, but it stopped just outside the room. From where she was sitting she could not see the young lady, but she could not be seen herself either. On the one hand she was glad that she might continue to listen without being found out, but on the other she was growing curious about this girl who enjoyed chatting in a bumpy bed. There was no reason to assume she was watching her words. She did not know there was someone listening, so she must genuinely like chatting.

"May we violate the code of conduct you imposed on us yet?" the young lady continued. "I have several questions and with every attempt of yours to evade them, another question is raised."

The Countess wondered what a code of conduct could have to do with questioning, as well as what sort of questions her son had been evading. He was taking his time to answer now too.

The young lady spoke again when Richard still did not answer. "Shall I put them to you in writing so you may answer them without visible embarrassment? I am beginning to suspect that your refusal to tell me what married people are up to behind closed doors means that you do not have a clue yourself."

"I told you I am not married," came his reply finally.

His mother raised her eyebrows.

"Must I marry you to get an answer?" the girl cried in frustration.

Lady Matlock chose this precise moment to make her presence known. She left her chair and took a few steps forward. "What are you doing then, pretending you are married already?" she asked calmly, hardly raising her voice.

The sound was enough to bring the two others into view. She knew what her son looked like, so only a brief glance at him sufficed. He looked as startled as she would have expected. Then she focused on the girl. She was not a very young girl and she looked absolutely horrified, but she would otherwise have been pretty.

"Mrs Fitzwilliam, I presume," said Lady Matlock. "The one who is not yet married to Colonel Fitzwilliam." She clasped her hands behind and her eyes gleamed dangerously. Where Lady Catherine was blunt, Lady Matlock was subtle -- and much more dangerous. "What have you got to say for yourselves, children?" she asked in a benevolent tone, but then she did not allow them an opening to speak. "Not only did I hear some worrisome things from your mouths that do not tally with the story that my sister Catherine told me, but I also find a lady without shoes and with her hair undone proposing in a most unusual manner to my son, who, I should add, is still not wearing a shirt. This seems a rather too domesticated appearance for two unmarried people."

Caroline studied the toes of her stockings. This was not the right moment to bring up that she had taken off her shoes to be able to sit on Richard's bed and that she had loosened her hair in order to lie down on it more comfortably.

"Mama," Fitzwilliam finally spoke. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. I see that was a fortunate thought. I should hate to imagine what would have happened had someone else stumbled on this dreadful charade. Who knows what they would have made of it? I at least see what is what." Catherine's estimate of the situation was certainly correct.

"And what is that?" He dreaded her opinion.

"I should like to hear from you first who this young lady is and what you are doing with her."

"This is Caroline."

"Bingley," Caroline supplied when Richard seemed unable to get that out of his mouth.

Lady Matlock put it together. "Caroline Bingley. I have heard of Caroline Bingley." She did not say whether that was good or bad and nothing could be inferred from her tone. She was still in the middle of deciding that.

"So I had I," Richard felt compelled to say. "But the rumours turned out to be false."

His mother noted with interest the very grateful expression that appeared on Miss Bingley's face. Why, it was almost loving, she observed gleefully. "The rumours said she was Mrs Fitzwilliam?" She knew what the rumours said -- that Caroline Bingley looked down on more people than was good for her. Several things were already proving the rumour false -- her initial comment about lonely luxury, her appearance and the fact that she was here with Richard, who was hardly a good catch money-wise. His mother considered him to be a great catch in other aspects, though, and a young lady had better be worthy. The girl was said to have a sharp tongue, but there had not been much evidence of that so far. Lady Matlock prolonged her teasing to draw the girl out. She liked girls who had their wits about them. Richard would not like witless girls either, she had always thought. "I have always heard Miss Bingley was a lady of excellent morals. Is this what was false?"

Caroline looked frustrated again. "Please, not another person who implies I am close to that what I should avoid at all costs without telling me what it is!"

The Countess raised her eyebrows. "I was talking about your morals, not your virtue."

"It is all meaningless if no one dares to give me a good definition."

While still unsure of Richard's mother's feelings, Caroline felt enough at ease now to study their opponent. At first sight she appeared harmless, for she had an open and pleasant countenance. There were a few freckles on her face to render her less dignified and she was not at all impressively beautiful, but she was impressively something nonetheless. The Countess' sharp blue eyes looked upon her son with the same expression Richard sometimes used on her. They had the same eyes. "You like him," Caroline noted. Whatever else his mother might be feeling, she still cared about her son.

"My dear girl, he is my son. Of course I like him. How did you draw this interesting conclusion?"

"I saw it in your eyes -- whatever you might be saying. He cannot lose your good opinion."

Lady Matlock did not want her fun to be spoilt already. "Is it not a little presumptuous of you to say he cannot lose my good opinion if he cavorts with you?"

Caroline returned the gaze steadfastly and proudly. "It is my duty to defend a friend."

Richard ought to defend a friend as well, his mother mused, but he seemed to be more aware that any defences were laughable in this case. Contrary to his friend, he recognised the danger in the situation. She shot him an inquisitive look nevertheless.

"We did not cavort," he said. "Would you believe that?" He looked uncertain.

"It is human nature to cavort."

Richard looked even more uncertain now. "Does that make it permissible?"

"In certain cases. For instance where both parties profess a deep and unwavering love for each other and express a definite intention to be married as soon as possible." Lady Matlock wondered if she was speaking gibberish, such were the expressions on their faces. She might have spoken too soon. "However, if this is not the case I am most seriously displeased." She stood up to prompt a reaction.

"What is cavorting?" Caroline inquired.

That was not the reaction she had expected or hoped for. "Did your mother never tell you?"

"I do not even remember my mother, much less what she told me."

"I am sorry if my comment caused you any pain in that case," Lady Matlock said sincerely. She looked at the girl. Though far from sad and helpless, she might not be up to the task of figuring men out all by herself. It had taken her ages to figure out her Frederick. "Should either of you be in need of private consultations, my husband and I will hold office in the billiards room. And Richard...if you decide to come down, please remember to put a shirt on. It would be too much for little Anne if she saw you like that." With a nod she left them alone.

"Oh oh oh!" Caroline uttered, clutching her hands to her chest. "That was your mother!"

Richard could not deny it. "Yes, it was." He was more impressed by the fact that his father was here as well. He might be in deep trouble. His father left his library about once a year and it would be a magnificent coincidence if this should be this week of all the weeks in a year. How come his father had got wind of the fact that his son was up to something?

"What is she thinking?"

"That we are misbehaving." She would never have offered private consultations otherwise. It was as good as an order to come down to speak with her. He would have to get dressed and go.

"Are we?"

"Apart from lying about being married, we are not. Unless you feel I look indecent like this." He was inviting her to say no.

Caroline did not think so, but she wondered how much she could say about it. "I do not find it shocking in the least."

He grinned at her. "It should not be. It is always only me, whatever I am wearing."

Continued in the next section