Free Caroline Bingley: A Continuation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice by Jennifer Becton

House."
    Caroline shook her head. "You are not required to flatter my mother, Mrs. Pickersgill."
    "It was not mere flattery, Miss Bingley, for I expressed my honest opinion of the matter. A large house is not necessarily more pleasing to the eye than a small one. It is simply, well, larger."
    "Clearly, you have never experienced the pleasures of a large house. I am certain that once you enter one as grand as Oak Park, your opinion will change."
    "Oh, Caro, not everyone has the same taste," Mrs. Newton said with a smile. "You may allow Mrs. Pickersgill to admire a small house if she wishes. Besides, it will please Mr. Newton greatly to hear that she does."
    Caroline was on the verge of saying, "Oh, hang Mr. Newton," but she restrained herself, realizing that there was no point, for an opinion was difficult to change, even one's own.
    Rosemary cocked her head to one side and studied her through narrowed eyes. Then, as if having come to a satisfactory conclusion, she said, "I will defer to your judgment, Miss Bingley, for I see you are in no mood for debate."
    "I am always in the mood for debate, Mrs. Pickersgill, but on this subject, there can be none. A woman of sense cannot prefer a small house to a large one. It is utterly ridiculous."
    "Indeed, Miss Bingley."
    Rosemary's voice held a distinct note of irony, but Caroline did not comment on it. In fact, the ladies did not converse again until they had completed the ride along the approach road, were received into the grand house in question, and were announced at the sitting room door by a manservant of stern countenance.
    "Mrs. Newton, Miss Bingley, and Mrs. Pickersgill, madam," he said. His voice sounded strangely ominous to Caroline's ears as his words rang into the vast room and echoed off the high ceilings and art-covered walls.
    Indeed, the room was lavishly done. The furniture was of the highest quality and was arranged so that it could be shown to its best advantage and not for the comfort of the room's occupants. Matching sofas, upholstered in gold and white brocade, stood in front of each of the towering windows that flanked the carved stone fireplace, and the sheer span between the two seats would likely make conversation--and even visual contact--awkward. Two high-backed chairs completed the arrangement while floor-to-ceiling draperies of heavy gold material framed the whole scene. The drapes had been pulled aside, allowing light to stream into the cavernous chamber in bright beams. Even the sunlight, it seemed, had been arranged with purposeful formality, for it descended in a most appealing manner on various points in the room.
    Even though the chamber was not conducive to intimate conversation, Lavinia had seen to every other comfort. The fire had obviously been laid with care, small enough not to cause overheating but large enough to take the chill out of the air. On the far wall stood a buffet covered with full decanters and carafes of wine, sherry, and port, and crystal glasses were lined up like soldiers at the ready, always prepared to receive libations. Books were fortuitously arranged on polished wooden side tables, and a writing table was settled along the far wall. Every detail had been seen to, every necessity provided. Lavinia was obviously adept at managing her father's household, and if true comfort was lacking, it could be forgiven in the face of sheer opulence.
    And Caroline was ever in favor of opulence.
    As the door closed behind them, Lavinia emerged from her place in a high-backed chair like a butterfly from a cocoon. The light behind her was so dazzling that Caroline was forced to blink often as she attempted to look at her friend.
    At that precise moment, Caroline could have allowed herself to be intimidated by her friend's grand appearance, by her family's even grander estate, or even by the sheer scale of the room, but she would not permit herself to be susceptible to such a weakness of emotion.
    Why, she herself had very nearly been the