"I beg your pardon, sir. My thoughts wandered."
"So I gathered," he said, a smile dancing in his eyes. He was not an unattractive man, well built with sandy hair, a tanned complexion that suggested much time spent outdoors and clear green eyes. "I was asking what you make of our little neighbourhood?"
"I have spent very little time here. My brother took Netherfield only recently." Caroline glanced towards Charles, who remained far too interested in their exchange. "I have not yet formed an opinion I should care to repeat before dinner," she added tartly, hoping that might put an end to the conversation.
Mr Goulding’s mouth twitched. "Then I shall ask again afterwards, when there is less danger of spoiling anyone’s appetite."
The answer caught her off guard. He had parried her effortlessly. She looked at him more closely, but his face was carefully blank as he escorted her into the dining room.
Charles had already begun arranging the company, echoing Caroline’s own behaviour the evening before. He settled Jane in the chair nearest the fire and instructed a footman to bring another cushion and blanket for her, despite her assurance thatshe was perfectly comfortable. Mr Hurst made directly for his usual place beside the decanter, while Louisa sat next to him and kept looking towards Caroline, her usually sunny countenance replaced by a concerned frown.
Caroline had barely placed a hand upon the back of the empty chair when Charles sprang into motion. He darted around the table, caught her by the arm and steered her firmly towards the place beside Mr Goulding.
"Here, Caro. You will be much more comfortable."
"Charles, release me at once," she hissed.
"In a moment, sister," he said loudly. "Please give the man a chance," he added in an undertone.
"You are practically dragging me."
"Nonsense." He laughed brightly. "I am guiding you."
"You are guiding me like a gaoler taking a prisoner to the gallows!"
Mr Goulding had risen by then and stood holding the chair, looking caught between amusement and apology. "I should like it recorded, Miss Bingley, that I had no part in this."
Caroline allowed Charles to deposit her beside him and lowered herself into the chair with as much dignity as the circumstances permitted. "Do not concern yourself, sir. My brother’s methods are entirely his own."
Charles beamed at them both and hurried away before Caroline could object further, plainly convinced he had accomplished something remarkable.
Caroline arranged her features into a mask of cool civility. It was only dinner. One soup, one roast, perhaps a pudding and a little cheese and fruit. Then she would claim a headache—which was true enough—and escape upstairs to press a cold cloth to her head and start plotting her brother’s downfall.
Across the table, Mr Darcy required no assistance from Charles. He drew out the chair beside him for Elizabeth and waited until she was seated before taking his own place. They exchanged a glance which lasted a fraction too long, and Elizabeth’s smile softened in a way Caroline had not seen before that evening.
A moment later, colour began to rise slowly along Elizabeth’s neck. Caroline’s eyes narrowed. Mr Darcy’s right hand had disappeared beneath the table, and Elizabeth’s left was nowhere to be seen. They were plainly holding hands beneath the cloth. A warm rush of satisfaction rose in Caroline. Her instincts had been correct and it appeared a love match was about to come to fruition. She ought to have felt triumphant. But despite her very real pleasure in their happiness, a small, unreasonable part of her was annoyed that they should sit there clasping hands beneath her table while she had been deposited besidea gentleman she had no wish to encourage. Elizabeth’s colour deepened and Caroline looked away. Really, there was no need for them to be quite so pleased with themselves.
The servants began bringing in the soup, and for a few blessed moments the table fell into the hum of quiet conversation. Mr Goulding applied himself to his soup with relish. Louisa and her husband were chatting happily about the seasonings preferred by Netherfield’s cook, and Charles was talking animatedly to Jane. Caroline thought she might have escaped his machinations for the rest of the evening. She was wrong.
"Mr Goulding has an excellent stable at Ashdown," he announced out of nowhere, causing everyone to look up from their meal. Caroline closed her eyes and prayed for patience. Charles was not deterred by seven pairs of eyes looking at him in unease. "Caro is a very fine horsewoman," Charles continued. He turned towards Mr Goulding with a smile of such open encouragement that Caroline had a brief waking daydream of walking around the table and depositing the contents of the soup tureen over her brother's grinning face.
"I have not ridden regularly in years," she said in a voice that was dangerously calm.
"Nonsense. You were always fearless as a girl," her brother retorted.
Louisa looked up from her bowl. "She fell from a pony when she was nine and refused to go near it again for a month.Andshe bit you, Charles, when you tried to put her back in the saddle."
"There may be a lesson there, Bingley," Mr Hurst added in a tone that suggested he was enjoying the proceedings immensely.
Mr Goulding lowered his spoon, his mouth twitching. "Perhaps fearless is not quite the word."
Charles laughed as though Caroline’s childhood offences could only increase Mr Goulding’s admiration. "The point is that she rides very well, and you have some excellent hunters at Ashdown."
"I do," Mr Goulding said, though there was a note of caution in his voice now.
"There, you see?" Charles looked from one to the other with great satisfaction.
Caroline took another spoonful of soup. "I see that Mr Goulding owns horses and that I have, upon occasion, sat upon one. It is an astonishing degree of compatibility."
