Caroline Bingley: A Continuation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice (16 page)

Again, these thoughts were odd. Ordinarily, Caroline would refuse to admit--even to herself--any culpability in such a situation, but at that moment, she could not deny that she bore some blame for his current state of filth. But unaccustomed to offering sympathy, Caroline simply sat without speaking a word.

Mr. Rushton stood with slow deliberation, and now he looked up at Caroline as she sat on the pony's back. He had managed to keep his face from landing in the mud, but his riding coat was caked with the substance. His lower body, however, seemed to have landed on dry ground, for his trousers were largely undamaged. He wore a neutral expression, and then it began to transform.

A burst of laughter escaped him.

Caroline's brow furrowed in confusion. "You are laughing?"

Mr. Rushton did not respond except to continue laughing.

"You are mad," Caroline said.

"No, indeed," he said as he shook some muck from his hands. "I have not been unhorsed in years, and you and this little pony have managed what unbroken colts could not."

"You
are
mad."

Twelve

Mr. Rushton smiled at Caroline as he offered his assistance to her in dismounting the pony. "Come along, Miss Bingley. We shall not be joining the others."

Again, Caroline had the strongest urge to offer a set down. A lady need not bow to the whims of a gentleman. She may make her own choices. But really, did she have a choice? She could no more control this pony than she could control the weather.

"To the stables then?" she asked.

"In time," he said. "First, do allow me the opportunity of repairing some of the damage done to my pride."

From the saddle, Caroline eyed his mud-encrusted hand with disdain and chose to reject his aid. She unlaced her leg from around the pommel and slid as gracefully as possible to the ground.

"Can such a thing be accomplished out of doors?"

By the look of him, he required thorough bathing and a change of clothing.

"Not properly, no," he said as he handed her the pony's lead.

She looked at the now-docile pony and decided she would not be dragged across the countryside if she held the line.

"Now, if you will permit me, I will remove this soiled garment and wash my hands as well as possible in the pond."

Mr. Rushton did not await her permission, so Caroline did not give it. She simply watched as he removed his riding coat, turned it inside out, and stored it in his saddle bag. He wore only his white linen shirt and waistcoat, which really was not proper in the company of a lady.

Caroline ought to complain, but she found that she rather admired the way the cloth stretched across his shoulders and back. She turned away, suddenly discomfited, and cleared her throat. "It seems, Mr. Rushton, that if we may not be together without becoming embroiled in some sort of altercation, we ought not to be in each other's company."

"Altercation?" he asked as he bent to rinse his hands in the pond. "Yes, I suppose we have had our share, but this is not an argument. I find I am not in the mood to quarrel. If I had been interested in fighting with you, Miss Bingley, I would have begun this conversation by asking just what the devil you thought to accomplish by riding out when you had no business doing so."

"And I would not explain myself, of course," Caroline replied.

He stood up and shook his hands in an attempt to dry them. Water flew in all directions, catching the sunlight as it fell. "As I expected," he said.

"And I might ask why you had selected such a difficult mount for me, Mr. Rushton, if you suspected my dislike for riding."

Caroline watched as he walked slowly toward her, his gaze keeping contact with hers. "And I would remind you that you were settled upon your mother's pony, which has never so much as had a subversive thought in her head."

They were standing within arm's length now, glaring at each other.

"Then," Caroline said, "I think it best that we do not speak about it."

"Indeed," Mr. Rushton said as he brushed past her and took up both his horse's reins and the pony's lead. "Come," he said as he walked to the base of a nearby tree. "We shall sit for a few minutes."

Caroline watched as he secured the horses and then sat on the ground without so much as a cloth between his trousers and the earth.

She supposed it did not matter to him.

She, on the other hand, attempted to perch herself on a large exposed root.

"Horses are emotional creatures, and they reflect the emotions of their riders," Mr. Rushton said without preamble.

Caroline sighed. "I thought we were not going to discuss this."

He continued, "One need only look at one's mount to understand everything about the person astride."

"Oh," Caroline said, understanding his intention. "What, pray tell, does today's adventure reveal about me?"

He studied her for a moment and then looked away. "It would be impolite of a gentleman to speak of it, Miss Bingley."

"Oh, come, I have invited your opinion. You are safe."

He laughed. "Now that you have said that, I am reassured that I am indeed not safe. When a lady assures a gentleman, it is only because she believes he will then flatter her."

"And what you say shall not flatter me?" Caroline asked.

"What I say would have been the truth."

"Then, speak it."

"The truth," he said, "is better discovered oneself."

Caroline was silent for a moment, but she was determined to discover his meaning. "Do you accuse me of a lack of skill then?"

"Lack of skill?"

"I was given proper instruction in all matters equestrian. It is an integral part of every lady's education." She would never admit that she remembered very little about the endeavor.

"Yes, that much was evident." He laughed. "You knew which end of the horse to which to apply the whip."

"You jest, but I was well taught."

"I do not refer to your lack of skill." When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "Indeed, Miss Bingley, I believe there are but few skills that you have not artfully mastered."

She looked at him but could not read his expression, for he was facing forward again. His tone sounded wry, but his words were complimentary.

She hesitated and then said, "I believe, Mr. Rushton, that is the first time I have ever heard a compliment escape your lips."

He faced her now, and his expression was as wry as his tone. "Did I compliment you? My apologies. It was quite unintentional."

She laughed at him despite herself, but sobered quickly.

"You are indeed a truly accomplished performer," Mr. Rushton said. "But one may not perform when horses are involved. They have a way of revealing one's true self."

"Then they are wiser creatures than I have given them credit for being."

"Yes, Mossy has revealed quite a great deal today. I comprehend you now. Perfectly."

"Oh?" Caroline adjusted on her perch. "Enlighten me."

"Women, I find, are the finest actors. They perform continually to entice a gentleman and then drop the charade once he is caught."

Caroline spoke without thinking. "How would you suggest we behave, then, if not by showing ourselves to the best advantage?"

"You should portray yourself as you are, of course. It is foolish to perform. And it is even more foolish to overestimate one's skills on horseback. You ought to have known that."

She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Ah, but I have heard that you, Mr. Rushton, are also a great performer."

Mr. Rushton studied her. "You have thrice laid this accusation at my feet, Miss Bingley. Why not speak plainly? I will not object."

She decided to do just that. "I have heard that you were once engaged to be married to a young lady of large fortune."

"That is true," he said, his face still open.

"And that the lady terminated the engagement when she discovered your family's true situation."

"Also true," he confessed.

"So you admit to being a fortune hunter!"

"Indeed, I do not."

"Then I fear, Mr. Rushton, you will have to explain yourself."

"I will do so happily now that you have asked and not based your entire opinion of me on supposition and gossip."

Caroline crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to proceed.

"My father was a proud man, and his humiliation at having sold off so much of Rushton House was complete. He vowed that before he died he would see our fortunes restored, and so with that in mind, he arranged for me to marry the eldest daughter of a wealthy London family when we were yet children. He, of course, did not divulge the status of our estate, only that I was to inherit an ancient house and land. They believed us wealthy and stable, but we needed the money desperately."

Caroline nodded.

"The old dear truly believed that my marriage would save the family, but before we reached the appointed age, my father became ill and died, making me promise that I would fulfill my vow to the lady and save our family land. I agreed, but as our wedding day approached, guilt assailed me. I could not bring myself to withhold the truth from her, so I brought her to Rushton House, which was then in quite a state of disrepair."

Caroline could well imagine the condition of the property. It would please no woman.

"Simply put," Mr. Rushton said, "she broke the engagement, and I allowed it."

"But your vow to your father?"

"I did not break it. The lady ended the engagement, and I said nothing ill about her. In fact, I said nothing at all on the subject, which is why the fortune-hunting rumor still abounds. And I did restore the family land, every piece."

"But how?"

"Through my association with Mr. Newton. Bridge building can be quite lucrative."

Trade, Caroline thought. It always seemed to return to trade.

"So you see, Miss Bingley, it was through my blatant refusal to perform--to present myself as anything other than I was--that I restored my family to rights. And I speak from that experience when I tell you that it is best not to perform for others, whether human or equine."

They were silent a few moments, and Caroline found herself watching the horse and pony as they grazed, to all appearances, peacefully.

"Mr. Rushton, you really should not pretend to have some keen insight into my character or temperament based on my interaction with unpredictable creatures."

"Horses are only unpredictable if their handler does not know their true nature." He too studied the pair of grazing beasts. "Men often experience similar dilemmas in their interactions with your fair sex. If a man does not know a woman's true nature, he cannot adequately predict what might occur next."

"Yes? And now you believe you may predict what I shall do next?"

He smiled. "I would not dare to insult you by admitting it."

She only looked at him, trying to comprehend his meaning.

Then Mr. Rushton stood and reached for her hand. "Come, I find I am quite dried out enough to attempt the walk home."

And with that, he assisted her to her feet and gathered the horses, and together, they returned to Newton House in silence.

As they walked, Caroline looked over her shoulder in the hopes of spying the others of their party, but they were nowhere to be seen.

There was no hope left of cultivating time alone with Mr. Charlton. Depressing as it was, this disastrous outing would likely be her last opportunity of being in his company for some time.

This was a heavy discouragement indeed, but such stumbling blocks only served to embolden Caroline. She may not have triumphed as quickly as she would have liked, but the game was not over.

She would have her baron yet.