Chapter Forty-Eight

M r. Bingley's solicitor sent a list of appointments, as Mr. Bingley had requested. He intended to see all of the suggested townhouses before making a selection. If Caroline wished to accompany him, fine. If not, even better. He very much preferred not to be near her. Dunstan's tonic helped him relax enough to sleep, but he knew laudanum should not be taken too often. He had to get Caroline out of his life for his own well-being.

Unfortunately, his sister insisted on accompanying him. He knew that she would find something wrong with each and every situation they viewed.

After walking through the first townhouse, she had said, "Far, far too small. I cannot begin to imagine how I would entertain my friends in such a small drawing room."

The second townhouse was, evidently, too noisy. There were – heavens! – children living on either side. How was she to tolerate that?

The third, according to her, had not been redecorated in the past hundred years and would require a large infusion of cash to be suitable. "And if you are willing to pay for that redecoration, Charles, then fine. For I shall not be able to pay for it from the funds I am allotted."

Charles had actually briefly considered agreeing to this, but then had stiffened his spine and shaken his head.

The fourth had a large drawing room and had been recently decorated, but Caroline sniffed at it, saying that the bedrooms were far, far too small.

As they returned to Bingley House, Charles turned to his sister and said, "Do you have a preference among the four we saw today?"

Caroline refused to respond.

"I liked the last one. There are no children about, and the décor seemed pleasant enough. I do not think it matters if the bedrooms are small."

Still no response. Charles sighed and gave up his attempt at conversation.

The next two days proceeded in much the same way. There was something wrong with every place they visited. At the end of that third day, as they walked out of the last residence, Charles turned to Caroline.

"Well? Last chance for you to choose."

She shrugged.

He lost what little patience he still possessed. "Caroline, for God's sake, do you truly want me to select your house for you?"

She stopped and turned to him. "Enough now, Charles. I am sorry – very, very sorry – for how I have treated you. I have bullied you and tormented you; I know I have been a very poor sister. But I will do better, I swear it."

"Caroline."

"Yes, Charles?"

"You are likely not aware that whenever you and I disagree, it upsets me so much that my heart speeds up, my mouth goes dry, and it is all so very unpleasant that I give in to whatever you want, just to make the dreadful sensations stop. These past four days have been extremely difficult for me."

Her mouth opened but no sound came out.

He continued, "When it gets very bad, Dunstan gives me laudanum in brandy to help me sleep."

She found her voice. "Charles, I had no idea…"

He overrode her. "This being the case, I would like to be shut of you as soon as possible. Since you have no preference, I will have you moved into the place I liked from our first day. Wait – I am not yet done. Caroline, you are a mean, vicious woman. Servants hate you. Louisa is terrified of you. I believe Harold stays drunk so that he can pretend you are not there. I pity the poor fool who marries you, assuming you find such a man. Now, then, is there anything else you wish to say to me?"

Caroline shook her head. Her brother left her and climbed into their carriage. He did not see the look of shock that she carefully wiped from her face before climbing in beside him. She had, evidently, always been right about Charles: he was a weak man. It was just as well that she was about to be shut of him.