Page 50 of Elizabeth and Caroline
The man shook hands with her. “Mrs. Darcy, I must say it is an honor to finally meet you. And now that I have, I can see why your husband has been keeping you locked up away from us all this time.”
“Hardly locked up,” she said, giving him a smile. “Only busy, I suppose.”
Mr. Graceling grinned widely at that.
Mr. Darcy glared at her. “We’ll talk later, shall we, sir? Excuse us.”
“Oh, of course,” said Mr. Graceling, who looked as if he would have liked to have continued the conversation.
“What was that?” Mr. Darcy whispered to her. “That wasn’t proper.”
“I told you, I’m being highly improper.”
“With men?” he said.
“He’s single, isn’t he? I need to make the acquaintance of single men for Caroline!”
“Don’t flirt with people in front of me.”
“That wasn’t flirting!”
They were to the painting by now.
They looked up at it.
“You can’t actually think I would ever prefer anyone to you,” she said, but wondering if, in fact, her husband were a jealous and competitive type, just as she’d suspected from the very beginning. He’d denied it about himself, butperhaps he was simplyindenial, and she should trust her instincts.
“No, I trust you implicitly, my darling,” he said. “It’s Graceling, though. I don’t like him leering at you in that manner. It makes me want to knock him down. And it would be highly improper for me to engage in fisticuffs at a ball.”
“I see,” she said.
“Graceling is not for Caroline, anyway,” said Mr. Darcy. “I wouldn’t wish him on any woman, truly, not even her.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You don’t like my best friend, do you?”
He sighed. “The sooner you marry her off, the sooner all this nonsense dies down, I suppose.” He looked her over. “Of course, I do like seeing you like this, in your element. You’re something to behold.” He offered her his arm. “I am going to claim your first two dances, I think.”
“That’s a bit uncouth, I should think. We are married, and we should not be monopolizing each other’s attention.”
“We are newlyweds, and everyone will think it’s charming. Besides, I insist. I am mad for you.”
She flushed. Would she never grow tired of her own husband desiring her? She rather hoped she would not, actually. She did not wish to be tired of it. She wished it always to go through her like the rush of a spring rain.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WHEN CAROLINE ARRIVEDat the ball, she had to stand on the sidelines for half an hour while Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy whisked their way around the dance floor, making eyes at each other, giggling at their own private jokes, and being annoyingly adorable.
She was jealous, of course, of the two of them, but it was not a jealousy borne of wishing to have Mr. Darcy for herself. She could rather see that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy suited each other in a way that she and Mr. Darcy did not. She was jealous of exactly that, however, how well they suited each other. She did not think that she would ever be well-suited to another person, not in that fashion.
As a general rule, people did not like Caroline. She could not entirely say why, but she had grown accustomed to it over her life. As a small child, her father had doted on her, yes, but her mother had seemed cold and preoccupied with her other children, primarily with Charles. Her brother and sister had not liked her, but then perhaps that was only typical sibling bluster. If she had thought perhaps it was only a family dynamic, and that once she was amongst other people, she would be accepted finally, in this she had been quite disappointed. Indeed, her family were the only people she could count on. Other people found her quite off-putting.
She had learned ways to try to minimize this element ofherself—whatever it was—that made people dislike her. She would look for something about another person to praise, anything at all, and she would steadfastly compliment the other person. Compliments helped to mitigate it—whatever it was.
She wished, of course, she could find out what it was that she was doing and simply stop doing it. Perhaps at some point, she could ask Elizabeth about it. She didn’t dare ask anyone else. Saying such a thing out loud to others would only make them dislike her more, and she was sure of it.
She had a suspicion, anyway, that she wasn’t actually doing anything wrong, that people simply couldn’t help it. It was like, when you went by something that smelled bad, you were repulsed. Caroline didn’t think she smelled (but maybe that was it) but there was something repulsive about her. People could not put their finger on it. Having attention brought to it, though, only made them uncomfortable.
During the whole of the dance, no one at all spoke to her. She was here with her sister and Mr. Hurst, but they were off on their own, happy enough to be rid of Caroline, or so she assumed. They had not actually spoken of it. She smiled at people, and they did not return the smile, but instead looked away hurriedly, as if they were frightened that smiling at her might encourage her.
