Page 41 of Caroline Bingley's Grand Plan

"Where is he?"

Charles blinked. "Who?"

Caroline stared at him. "Dr Parodi."

"Oh." His attention shifted back towards the adjoining room. "I am not entirely certain."

The fear that had been gathering beneath her ribs tightened. "Has he left?"

"Perhaps. Jane has been sleeping comfortably for several hours. He examined her before luncheon and said that the danger had passed, though she must remain quiet and take only broth until tomorrow." A smile broke across his face. "She was awake again a little while ago. She spoke to me for nearly ten minutes."

Caroline liked Jane Bennet a great deal. She was overwhelmingly relieved that she had recovered and knew how much those ten minutes must have meant to Charles. At any other moment she would have teased him for his infatuation while being overcome with joy for the couple. Now she could think only of the empty space beside the entrance door.

"Did he say that he was leaving?"

Charles looked towards her more closely, apparently hearing something in her voice at last. "Not to me. He has scarcely slept himself, and I believe he meant to take some air."

"His coat is gone."

"It is October, Caro. I should hope he wore it outside."

Some of the pressure in her chest eased, though not enough. "Then he has not left?"

"I do not know." Charles closed the book upon one finger. "He may have done. He has fulfilled every obligation to us and more. I shall never be able to repay him for what he has done for Jane, for her family." He sighed dreamily. "For me."

She turned away before Charles could ask another question and crossed to the long windows overlooking the rear lawn. A pale afternoon sun lay across the wet grass, catching upon the paths and the dark leaves of the shrubbery. Caroline searched the terrace first, then the gardens beyond, her gaze moving quickly towards the line of trees. For one strange moment she was seventeen again, coming down the cliff path above the beach at Scarborough and looking for the dark figure she had learned to expect upon the shore. She remembered the leap of her heart when she found him waiting near their rock, his coat tugged by the wind and his face turned towards the sea. Then someone moved beyond the yew hedge. He was still here.

Thomas walked slowly along the edge of the garden with his hands clasped behind his back and his head bent. His physician’s coat was buttoned against the cold and the breeze lifted his dark hair away from his brow.

Caroline ran from the room without saying another word. Charles called after her, but she was already across the hall, one hand gathering her loose skirts as she hurried downstairs, through the larger drawing room and pushed open the terrace doors.

The cold struck her full in the face, stealing her breath. She had been asleep too long and eaten nothing, and her limbs felt heavy and unreliable as she raced down the steps. Her heart pounded hard enough to hurt, while each breath caught sharply in her throat, but Thomas had reached the far end of the yew hedge. If he turned towards the stable yard, she might lose him again.

"Thomas." The name escaped on too little breath and vanished into the wind. She ran harder. Her shawl slipped from one shoulder and streamed behind her like a sail as she crossed the terrace, her thin slippers skidding upon the wet stones. Gravel bit through their soles and damp seeped around her toes, but she scarcely felt it. By the time she reached the lawn, her lungs were burning and a painful stitch had seized her side. She pressed one hand against it without slowing, her loose hair whipping acrossher eyes as the distance between them refused to close quickly enough.

"Thomas!" This time the cry tore from her chest and carried across the garden.

At the sound of her voice, Thomas came to an abrupt halt. He stood motionless for a moment, his back still towards her, as though he did not quite trust what he had heard. Then he turned slowly, and even across the distance Caroline saw recognition break over his face.

Then he began to run. Caroline barely had time to take another step before he was coming towards her across the wet grass, all composure forgotten. The sight of it broke the last of her restraint. She ran to meet him, breathless and half blinded by the tears gathering in her eyes, and they reached one another beside the bare rose garden, where the last sodden petals lay scattered across the earth.

They stopped only when they were almost upon one another. Thomas caught her by the arms as though he feared she might disappear again, his hands warm and firm around her through the thin fabric of her sleeves. For a moment he simply stared at her, taking in her loose hair, her unfastened gown and the tears staining her cheeks.

"Caroline," he breathed.

The sound of her name in his voice nearly undid her. "I thought you had gone."

His hands tightened. "Without seeing you?"

She could not answer. Her breath came too quickly, and the effort of reaching him had left her trembling. Thomas lifted one hand to her face and pushed the windblown hair from her cheek with such tenderness that her eyes closed for a moment beneath his touch.

"I could not have left you like that," he said. "I tried to tell myself I ought to go, but I had not taken ten steps before I knew it was impossible."

Caroline opened her eyes. "Jane is out of danger. You have no reason to remain."

Thomas looked at her as though the answer ought to have been obvious. His thumb moved softly across her cheek. "I have you."

Before Caroline could answer, Thomas bent and kissed her. There was nothing hesitant in it. His hand slid from her cheek into her loose hair as he drew her against him, and Caroline clutched at the front of his coat, all the years between Scarborough and this damp Hertfordshire garden collapsing beneath the warmth of his mouth. She had remembered their first tentative kisses so often that they had become almost dreamlike, soft as the brush of wings upon her lips. This wasdifferent. Thomas kissed her like a man who wanted to drown in her. This was deep and fierce, as if he was pouring all of the hope and pain from their years apart into this one action.