Page 132 of Pride and Prejudice Resolutions

He moved by the fireplace, examining the family portrait that hung above the mantel. It depicted Charles, Louisa, and Caroline in their youth, painted by a mediocre artist who had been paid handsomely to make them appear aristocratic. Charles looked vapid. Louisa looked pinched. Caroline looked furious.

"An excellent likeness," the Colonel observed.

"You are mocking us."

"I am admiring your consistency. You had that same look when we met outside the church. And again at the opera. It is remarkably enduring."

He continued surveying the drawing room with clinical assessment.

"It is a bit subtle, is it not, Miss Bingley?" He ran a finger over a gold-leafed cherub engaged in what appeared to be mortal combat with a swan. "I am surprised you did not have the floorboards paved in sapphires."

Caroline did not look up from her needlework, a monstrosity of silk flowers that appeared to be attacking each other. "I find that wealth, much like a bayonet, is most effective when pointed directly at one's enemies."

"And here I am," Richard grinned, moving closer to examine her stitchwork, "unarmed and dangerously close to the point."

She stabbed her needle through the fabric with enough force to impale a small mammal. "You presume I consider you an enemy, Colonel. I assure you, I do not grant you such importance. One does not declare war on a mosquito. One swats it and moves on."

"Mosquitoes carry disease, Miss Bingley. I am considered a very healthy specimen."

"Healthy specimens do not arrive uninvited at a lady's home and critique her decor."

"I was invited by the butler. He seemed delighted to see me. I believe the exact words were 'Thank God, finally a gentleman.' Though I confess the context was unclear."

Caroline ground her teeth. "My servants are instructed to admit all callers of appropriate rank. Unfortunately, this includes second sons with delusions of importance."

"Delusions are all I can afford." He picked up a bronze statuette of Athena, weighing it thoughtfully. "This could pay off a tailor's bill. Do you think your brother would notice if it vanished?"

"He would not. But I would. And I keep excellent records."

"As befits a woman raised in trade. Tell me, do you inventory your guests as well? Cross-reference them against their net worth?"

"Only when their net worth is negative." She finally looked up, her green eyes sharp. "How go the battles with your creditors, Colonel? I imagine they are relentless."

"They are persistent. But so am I. We have reached a gentlemen's agreement, they pretend I have money, and I pretend I intend to pay them."

"How very modern."

"How very desperate."

For a moment, Caroline's needlework stilled. She studied his face, trying to decipher where he stood and exactly where that put her.

"You are very frank about your poverty, Colonel. Most men would hide it."

"Most men are idiots." He returned Athena to her perch with a decisive click. "My poverty is no secret, Miss Bingley. Half ofLondon gossips about my empty pockets, and the other half is waiting for me to fill theirs. There is a certain liberty in having already fallen from grace."

"Liberty is an expensive habit," she countered. "One you can no longer afford."

"Then we are well-matched. You are locked inside your vault, and I am locked out of it."

Caroline set down her needlework with enough force to rattle the side table. "Was there a specific reason for this philosophical discourse, Colonel? Or have you simply run out of soldiers to lecture?"

"I came to discuss your brother-in-law."

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Caroline's spine straightened against the chair back, her hands folding precisely in her lap, the posture of a woman preparing to repel boarders.

"Mr Hurst is no concern of yours."

"Mr Hurst assaulted you in a public theatre. That makes him a concern of any gentleman present."