Beginning, Previous Section, Section IV

In the library, Miss Avon was privately lamenting Miss Bennet's lack of proficiency on the pianoforte, as the girl herself read aloud from a chapter in the Arabian Nights.

She truly enjoyed having Kitty as her pupil; it was as though she had a ward of sorts, and she had never had one before. She and Caroline had both imparted all the lessons and dictates of decorum that had been learned during their years at school. The young lady was quick and eager enough to learn, while still spending a good share of her time pretending disobedience in the face of hers and Caroline's teachings. Beneath all the talk of regimentals and bonnets, which was slowly being stripped away by the elder ladies' influence, Samantha felt that Kitty had a good deal of sense as well as entirely too much sensibility, which, while tiresome, she found oddly endearing.

Though Kitty could be most wicked, of course.

Now, for example, Samantha thought, as with a groan of frustration, Kitty flung the book aside in mid-sentence.

"Lord, I am sure I cannot read another word; I'll soon be turning into a blue-stocking!"

Samantha suppressed a chuckle with little success, but still managed to glare censoriously at the girl. "Kitty, that is absolutely ludicrous - Caroline and I have read every one of the books we have suggested you read, and I can assure you that neither of us have ever been labelled as blue-stockings. And take care with that book, it is not my copy, you know. It's Mr. Bingley's. And how often must I tell you not to use that vulgar exclamation in my presence?" She added the last, knowing very well that Kitty was only doing so to annoy her.

"At least a dozen times more, and then I promise I will listen," Kitty returned impishly, and Miss Avon was unable to suppress her own groan.

"It would seem Catherine is not half the reader Miss Eliza is," said Miss Bingley sardonically, not even glancing up from the pages of a letter she had been poring over all afternoon.

"She is married now, you realize," Kitty piped up. She quickly ducked her head in the face of Caroline's poisonous glare.

"Oh, enough of this, you two," Samantha insisted, biting her lip to avoid adding her own degree of teasing to Kitty's. She enjoyed teasing Caroline when Kitty was present - the other woman tended to neglect the majority of her "fine breeding" and became much more interesting. Kitty was not a sensational wit, but she certainly had her own methods of provocation. But Samantha, having the advantage over Kitty by knowing the particulars of Caroline's dislike for her elder sister, lost interest in the current subject much faster than Kitty had.

"Perhaps if you had learned to play, you might be able to do something other than read." Samantha continued her earlier lamentations aloud, unaccountably annoyed with Kitty's family as a whole for not teaching the girl to play. "But since you are determined to be obstinate, and refuse to go near a pianoforte at all-"

"Miss Bingley has heard both Mary and Lizzy play, and is overcritical of the skills of both," Kitty protested. "As their skills far surpass my own, I have no wish to expose myself to that sort of censure."

Miss Bingley snickered behind her pages, but said nothing. Samantha frowned in displeasure. "There, Caroline, you see how you have frightened her? Kitty, should I teach you, I daresay you would become proficient in very little time at all, and I will not allow Caroline in the room."

Caroline may have taken exception to this, regardless of how badly she wished to keep Miss Avon's approval, but she was otherwise engaged in her sister's news from France, where she and her husband had gone to visit his family. Kitty had taken up the Arabian Nights once more and by all appearances was reading silently. Samantha was quite put out at being so thoroughly ignored by both.

"So what news do you have of your sister, Caroline?" she asked.

Caroline finally looked up from the letter. "Louisa writes that she and Mr. Hurst will be coming to visit Netherfield on their way home. They will be arriving in a matter of days, and plan to stay for a fortnight. I do hope Charles is aware of this."

Kitty carefully hid her grimace, having recently learnt that this would be an unforgivable breach of civility. Miss Bingley had just become a rather interesting and amusing, if challenging companion; it was not much different from managing Lydia, though Miss Bingley had less of the vivacity and much more of the venom.

However, with Mrs. Hurst arriving, Miss Bingley would probably spend all her time with her, being even more high-handed and coolly distant than she already was. Kitty could not be cheerful in the face of such a possibility.

"It's been a long time since I have seen Mrs. Hurst," Samantha said, sounding rather cheerful in contrast to Kitty's mood. "I shall look forward to her company. How fortuitous that she should visit when she will, Caroline, for it is mere days after her departure that we remove ourselves to Bath."

Kitty tried to ignore the odd pang she felt at the reminder of Samantha and Miss Bingley's impending departure. She had been long informed of the two ladies' future plans; Miss Bingley was to spend the summer with Miss Avon at Mr. Avon's house in Bath. Kitty could not help lamenting how dull things would become once they departed, and was sure she would miss even Miss Bingley's company, let alone Miss Samantha's.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries with Miss Bingley on the subject of Louisa Hurst, Samantha returned to sit next to Kitty, where she gave an exclamation of surprise.

"Kitty, you are not reading at all! And here I thought you were putting aside your aversion to the occupation in favour of furthering your education. What is that you have there?"

She attempted to pry Kitty's drawing portfolio, which Kitty had hidden between the pages of the book, from her hands. But Kitty, with suddenly-wide eyes, clutched the book to her chest. "I will not show you, for you will only laugh," she insisted.

Samantha was intrigued. "Oh, now you must tell us. Me, at least. Why would I laugh?"

Kitty seemed to consider her decision very carefully. "You must promise not to laugh, for I shall be forced to tickle you if you do. I have never shown this to anyone before, including my sisters, though I do take some pride in it."

Even Miss Bingley was fascinated by this, and set aside her letter. Samantha quickly promised and made Kitty loosen her death grip on the folder. Once it was in her possession, she spent quite some time critiquing the contents with a consistent "hmmm".

"Kitty, this is rather good," she finally murmured, when it appeared the girl was going to expire from anxiety. "Actually, it is very good, but...oh, if only your subjects were of more significance!"

"Here, let me see," Caroline interjected, unable to pretend indifference any longer. She snatched the portfolio from Miss Avon, who gave Kitty an apologetic glance.

"Just as I thought, nothing but gowns and regimentals. You are a constant surprise, Catherine," was Miss Bingley's rather harsh judgement.

Kitty might have been furious at such a blow to her vanity, were she not very used to such treatment from Miss Bingley by now, and doubted very much the other woman would change. She settled for sticking her tongue out.

Miss Bingley looked down her nose at Kitty disapprovingly. "Stop that! How often must we tell you it is a most inelegant gesture?"

"Well, I heard you snort over your sister's letter a while ago, can you tell me that is also not an inelegant gesture?" Kitty retorted.

Samantha giggled, and Miss Bingley went a bit red. "Never mind that," she snapped. "Neither of us have laughed, and thereby broken any promises to you. I suppose you have some talent, though your chosen subjects make it quite as empty as your head. Can not you draw scenic portraits, or even your home, Longbourn?"

Kitty blinked. "I...suppose I have never really considered it, Miss Bingley," she admitted. "My foremost goal as far as my drawing went was to someday have an officer sit for me while I drew him." She sighed in what she considered a very romantic manner. It was not, and Miss Bingley sneered.

"Begin to consider it. I wish to see something by your next visit, Catherine. Perhaps your paltry talents may surpass those of your elder sister." The contemptuous tone of this address left no doubt as to which elder sister Miss Bingley was referring to.

Though cognisant of the fact that this was perhaps the highest compliment Miss Bingley had ever paid her, Kitty chose to rebel against such high-handed treatment. "For someone who expresses her dislike of Lizzy so untiringly, you certainly mention her very often. How much do you dislike Lizzy, Miss Bingley?"

Samantha cast censuring looks in Miss Bingley's direction. It was enough that the girl had apparently acquired Caroline's talent for asking innocently malicious questions, she did not need to have her mind poisoned against her sister by Miss Bingley as well. For all the amusement she derived from Caroline's rants about the new Mrs. Darcy, she had become slightly protective of Kitty, and had no wish for her to bear witness to one.

But Miss Bingley had even less wish to enter this conversation than Samantha desired to have Kitty observe it. She did not relish the idea of Catherine, of all people, being able to perceive the extent of her hatred so easily. "I do not."

"Do you dislike her very much?" Kitty pressed.

"Perhaps."

"Oh." All vindictive intentions suddenly vanished in deference to genuine curiosity. "Why?"

Caroline had become well aware that Kitty could continue on in this vein forever. "It is none of your business, child, and if you truly wished to know you would put your eyes and your brain to some use," she snapped. "But I will not answer your incessant questions!"

Kitty recoiled, stung. "I only wished to know why you sometimes act as bitter as the old maids in the novels," she said in an injured tone.

Samantha burst out laughing, and Caroline glared. As sometimes happened in her conversations with Kitty, childish instinct won precedence over any other emotion.

"At least I am not an uncultured, unfashionable country chit!"

Amid the following volley of "Old maid!" and "Country chit!", Samantha shook her head. Perhaps she was gaining entirely too much amusement from these interactions, but it seemed that once more, Caroline's attempt to exercise authority over Kitty had become a riot. At least the awkward moments had passed. When Mr. Bingley came in minutes later, wishing to know whether Kitty had enjoyed the Arabian Nights and whether Caroline had received a letter from Mrs. Hurst, both answered in the affirmative and the previous subject was all but forgotten.

The next morning, Elizabeth breakfasted early with Darcy, as he had to go out onto the estate again. The conversation was pleasant, if hurried, and she once again thanked him for his kindness toward her sister before he left. The look he gave her was the same one that always made her tremble. "You must know that I would do anything for you, Elizabeth," he said, and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand before taking his leave.

Elizabeth did not know whether she was entirely satisfied by his last words; his eyes still held reservations to her own plan, and he was just a bit distant, though he had long since concurred to the scheme. She wondered for the umpteenth time whether it was unfair of her to ask him to accept Kitty as a particular companion for Georgiana, after the behaviour he had witnessed from her sister in the past. Was it any wonder that he would not want such behaviour to influence the sister whose flawless education he had overseen himself?

But if he could not trust Jane when she told them that Kitty had improved, he might at least trust Elizabeth to know what she was doing, having been the one to grow up with all four of her sisters. Georgiana's gentle nature reminded her a bit of Jane, had Jane been given the opportunity to grow up shy. However, this had been quite impossible in the Bennet household, and remembering this, Elizabeth firmly stood by her decision to bring Kitty to Pemberley - after herself and Lydia, Kitty was easily their most energetic sister, not to mention that Kitty could learn a great deal from Georgiana, too.

A soft patter of footsteps was the only announcement Elizabeth had, before Georgiana entered into the room. "Good morning...Elizabeth? Why is my brother leaving so early?"

"There has been a fire in one of the tenants' houses, he has gone to see them about relocation and other matters. It is the Hardens who have been struck by such misfortune; you will come with me to visit them later today, will you not?"

Georgiana's face, which had been initially horrified at the news, lit with pleasure. "Of course I will, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth laughed. "Georgiana, surely after all this time you may call me Lizzy? I so wish for you to address me as my other sisters do."

Georgiana pinkened as she took a seat across from her sister; had she not been used to Elizabeth's teasing nature, she might have been further distressed. "I wish for nothing more than to remember this instinctively...but I always forget and..."

Elizabeth patted the girl's hand. "Never mind, Georgiana - it will come in time. It is better than still being addressed as Miss Bennet," she added.

Even Georgiana laughed, remembering how for a full three months after her brother's marriage, she had been unable to discontinue referring to her new sister as anything other than "Miss Bennet". It had been so embarrassing at the time.

"There, you see?" Elizabeth looked inordinately pleased at her laughter. "Oh Georgiana, if you would only let others see this side of you. All would love you even more than they already do."

Her sister was so kind! Georgiana smiled back at her as her blush deepened, thinking of a certain clergyman whom had thrown the neighbourhoods surrounding Pemberley into frenzy. Elizabeth noticed her prolonged silence, but said nothing and changed the topic to her other plans for the day.

"Elizabeth?" After a short internal struggle, Georgiana finally broke into Elizabeth's conversation, though it took a bit of courage. "Forgive my interruption, I meant no rudeness, only...Elizabeth -Lizzy - is everything well with you? I was so worried last night when Fitzwilliam sent me away, for I knew you had received letters from home. Is the news very bad?"

Elizabeth hesitated, but decided she could put this off no longer. "Georgiana, I promise you that everything is well in Hertfordshire - it is only that I have been a bit disappointed by the news from home, and fear you will be too. It seems that Kitty is not to come to us in two weeks...her visit will be postponed a month."

As expected, Georgiana looked visibly crushed. "Oh...is she ill?"

"No, but she had received a prior invitation to go to Bath with Miss Bingley and her friend Miss Avon, so she intends to come to Pemberley after a month in their company."

"Oh!" Georgiana's eyes widened, before she covered up her small exclamation. "I am sorry...it is only that, well, I did not know she was friends with Miss Bingley." Her anxiety was extremely palpable, and Elizabeth knew well how intimidated Georgiana had always been by Caroline Bingley. Kitty's visit had just become ten times more daunting to her.

"Truly Georgiana, I was not aware of the degree of their friendship until now, either," Elizabeth replied, frowning down at the two letters she had with her; one was to her Papa, giving her consent to Kitty's going to Bath; the other was to Jane, demanding information on the smallest details of this newfound intimacy between Miss Bingley and Kitty. "I believe it was founded quite recently...and truth be told, I cannot be entirely happy about it."

Georgiana worried her bottom lip. "But after spending a month in Bath in the company of Caroline, will she be content to remain here in the country with me?"

Elizabeth quickly went around the table to her side and stroked her hair. "Georgiana! Of course she would - if anything, I would imagine she would be rather relieved at the change. There is no reason that Miss Bingley is the only one who should be Kitty's friend this summer. In fact," her eyes suddenly gleamed brightly as an idea came to her, one that might ease her own anxiety about Miss Bingley becoming the only heavy influence in Kitty's life for a full month. "Georgiana, what if you were to begin a correspondence with Kitty until she were to arrive here?"

Georgiana turned to her, her expression one of mingled hope and fear. "Really? Oh, I could not...I mean," she corrected, "I am sure it would be far more difficult to think of what to say in writing than in person to a girl my age."

"You correspond with Anne," Elizabeth reminded her in a singsong tone.

Georgiana could not help but giggle back, instantly put at ease. "But she is not my age. And what if Kitty does not wish to hear from me at all? She may dislike me before she even arrives at Pemberley."

"Georgiana, one of Kitty's deepest regrets about postponing the visit - for she did write to me along with Jane and my father - is that she will have to wait so long before making your acquaintance. I am absolutely certain that she will be delighted to receive a letter from you."

The excited light came back into Georgiana's eyes as she looked hopefully at Elizabeth. "Do you really think so?"

"I am convinced." Elizabeth dropped a kiss on Georgiana's head before returning to her own plate. "Here, if you write your letter after you have breakfasted, I will send it to Longbourn with my own this very day."

Georgiana, once more showing the animation of the past week, all but scarfed down her breakfast before hurrying upstairs to begin her letter.

But once seated at her writing desk, the blank page stared at her, and Georgiana stared back in near terror.

She had never done this before. Yes, she now shared a correspondence with Anne - Anne, who was seven years her senior, whom she had only grown close to this winter but had known her entire life. Her only other correspondence went to her brother and her much older cousins, aunts and uncle. And while she had a number of female friends in London and near Pemberley, some truer than most, none had ever been close enough to share a correspondence with, let alone be labelled as sisters.

This was very different, but she desperately wanted to make a good impression on Elizabeth's sister. Georgiana's adoration for Elizabeth was second only to her love for her brother, and she had taken a special sort of pleasure in growing closer to Elizabeth through the members of her family. During their visits at Christmas and earlier this spring, she had come to feel as though the Gardiners had always been hers and Fitzwilliam's family, and it helped that in her quiet elegance, Aunt Gardiner reminded her slightly of her Aunt Matlock. She had been so excited about Kitty's visit because she wished to feel this same way with her, especially since Kitty was only eight months her senior. She had never before had a particular friend so close to her own age before.

But she may not like me at all. Georgiana left her writing desk as she became too anxious to remain seated.

A glance in her vanity mirror revealed the true extent of her anxiety; her face was rather pinched, and even a little pale. People told her that she was beautiful. Georgiana rarely thought about it, but when she did she never knew whether to believe this, for Fitzwilliam was widely acclaimed as being very handsome, and she bore no resemblance to him save for height and the small curls in her long blonde hair.

But perhaps she was too plain - might this spawn disgust in her new sister Kitty? What if she could think of nothing to say, either in person or in her letter? She knew very well that she tended to cringe instinctively from most social interactions. While her shyness had diminished through being in constant company with Elizabeth, it still remained, and though it had been her first Season after coming out, she had been so eager to accompany Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth back to Pemberley when they left Town early mostly so that she would not have to receive any more callers. Her shyness had been present even before Ramsgate; Georgiana could remember girls at her old academy mistaking her timidity for arrogance and becoming quite aloof.

Worst of all, what if Kitty was aware of her foolishness at Ramsgate? Georgiana knew that Wickham had married Elizabeth's younger sister; Fitzwilliam had explained the particulars to her after the engagement had appeared in the Times. More recently, he had warned her that Lydia was Kitty's closest sister, so she might expect frequent conversation about the poor girl and her degenerate husband. Wickham might have told Lydia of her humiliation, and Lydia might have told Kitty - and this was what Georgiana feared most, that Kitty's perception of her had been poisoned before she would even meet her.

But it was clear that Fitzwilliam was even more distressed about the pain this might bring her than Georgiana herself was, and she, with more nerve than she had ever possessed while speaking to her brother, had told him that he was being ridiculous when he had revealed this. She was no longer a child to be eternally protected...so then, what was she doing now?

With this surge of determination, Georgiana went straight back to her desk and inked her quill. She would pour her heart out in the letter, and then Kitty would judge her as she chose, and that was all there was to it.

Please let her like me, she thought, before taking a deep breath and putting the quill to paper.

Pemberley, nr. Lambton, Derbyshire
28 May, 18-

Dear Miss Bennet,

Do not be alarmed upon receiving this missive, for I bear you no resentment or ill will for the postponement of your visit, and indeed have every wish for you to enjoy your time in Bath. Though I cannot pretend I will not miss your company this coming month, Bath is a beautiful city and you may have many adventures that I hope to hear about when you do arrive at Pemberley, if you will let me.

Our sister has suggested a correspondence between us until you come to Pemberley. Do you mind this very much? I think it a grand scheme, and am eager to begin, for I have a great desire to know you more intimately and become your friend, but if you would rather not that is just as well, too. In any case, I will be impatiently anticipating your visit, for I would love for you to see the grounds. Pemberley is very beautiful in the summertime. Elizabeth has informed me that you enjoy horseback riding, and I am so excited, for it is a favourite pastime of mine as well, though I know our sister dislikes the occupation.

Please give my regards to all your family, and know that I am anxious to meet you.

With love,
Your "new" sister
Georgiana Darcy

Her father had not even consented to anything, yet the news of Kitty's impending trip to Bath had somehow made it across Meryton and all its surrounding neighbourhoods. Kitty suspected her mother bore the guilt of this leakage of information, since it was mostly family acquaintances that were constantly asking questions and giving her advice on what to see in Bath. Amidst this were the crueller murmurs about her trip, and how it was sure to end in the same disgraceful manner that Lydia's had. Though Kitty was certain that these mutterings were only the product of jealousy over her good fortune from people like the Miss Longs and elderly Mrs. Goulding, this did nothing to curb her own anger, and she violently insisted that nothing and no one would induce her to elope, "if only to show those bitter old hags," as she declared to a similarly vexed Miss Samantha (after all, what did it say about her chaperoning skills if she were to allow such behaviour to take place under her nose?).

Even Lady Lucas had grown slightly cold to her these days, though she had always been most welcome at Lucas Lodge. When Kitty enquired the reason for this treatment, Maria appeared embarrassed. "I believe Mama is only disappointed that Papa will not arrange for me to go Bath as well; she is sure that with your mother's luck, you will meet a handsome earl who will fall madly in love with you."

Recalling her latest resolve, Kitty shrugged this off. "It should not matter if I do," she said stoutly, and the conversation turned to more agreeable topics. Maria was to go to her sister in Hunsford next month; like Lizzy, Charlotte was also expecting, though she was further along in her confinement than Elizabeth. The two young girls were equally excited about their journeys, and promised to correspond frequently. Kitty had every intention of keeping this promise, for out of all the girls in the neighbourhood, she had valued Maria's company the most since Lydia's departure.

Yet such plans and hostility would all be for naught should her father refuse to allow her to go to Bath. Kitty knew that he had applied to Elizabeth for advice, despite her mother's cries of, "What has Lizzy to do with any of this? She may see Kitty later, if she wishes." Kitty had added her own letter to her father's missive, and both were still waiting for a reply from Pemberley.

Two days after the Hursts' departed Netherfield for Sussex, Hill came into the parlour after having collected the daily post.

"Yes, yes, Miss Kitty, there is something here for you," she said quickly as Kitty leapt from her seat.

"Finally!" Kitty cheered, snatching up the thick missive. "Has Papa received something, too?"

"I have already given it to him."

Hill went on her way, and Kitty ripped open Lizzy's post with little ceremony.

Dear Kitty

As you may or may not know by now, I have given my support in favour of your trip to Bath-

Kitty released a shout of pure glee that earned her a glare from Mary through the open doorway of the music room. Making a face at her sister, Kitty took a seat quickly and read the letter in full.

Pemberley, Derbyshire
28 May, 18-

Dear Kitty,

As you may or may not know by now, I have given my support in favour of your trip to Bath. So you may breathe easily now, little sister; like Jane, I feel the trip will be beneficial to you. I should not need to remind you to be on your very best behaviour, Kitty. Given your level of trust in Miss Bingley, I am sure you are well aware of how critical that lady can be, no? I would like to hear how you are coping in Bath, however, so try to find the time to write to me.

Furthermore, as Georgiana is a bit disappointed that you are not to come to Pemberley for at least another month, I suggested that she begin a correspondence with you during the time you will be in Bath. She was quite enthusiastic over the idea, and her own letter to you is enclosed within this missive. I hope you will also be agreeable to the scheme, Kitty, for she is very eager to know you, and it would be well if you knew each other in some way before you meet here at Pemberley. However, I must ask that, just as you are not to speak of Lydia or Mr. Wickham while here at Pemberley, you do not mention them at all in your letters to Georgiana. I am very serious about this Kitty, and am waiting for your promise in your next letter to me.

Have a very good time in Bath, Kitty, and give all my love to those at home and at Netherfield.

Best of luck,
Elizabeth

Curious and more than a little eager to learn about her other new sister, Kitty tore open the second missive and began reading. The tone of the letter was friendly, if a little reserved; Miss Darcy truly seemed disappointed in the postponement of her visit, and very keen to know more about her as well. Kitty was left feeling rather excited, in awe, and in more anticipation of her visit to Pemberley than ever before; Miss Darcy's style of writing was more elegant than she had ever seen from a girl her own age, and she was already proving to be a much better correspondent than Lydia had ever been. Kitty was a little worried that her own writing would seem lacking and provincial in comparison (Miss Bingley had assured her of the importance of a proper, elegant writing style) but there was nothing to be done for it, because Kitty was determined to be friends with Miss Darcy, and had already begun penning a responding missive. She could not imagine what Wickham had meant when he told her and Lydia that Miss Darcy was as arrogant as her brother!

But then Mr. Bennet entered the parlour, and she nearly pounced on him, all thoughts of her own letter having flown out of her head.

"Well, Papa, well?" she asked quickly, bouncing on the balls of her feet in fearful anticipation.

Mr. Bennet managed to push her aside and strolled further into the room. "I heard an alarming screech not too long ago. Would I be correct in assuming that this was you?"

Kitty reddened. "Perhaps."

"Ah." Her father continued his stroll. "Then would I also be correct in assuming that you are aware of Lizzy's support of you?"

Kitty caught her breath. "Yes?"

Mr. Bennet's slow wry smile began appearing. "Well, with such opposition, what can I do other than concede?"

"Oh!" Kitty quickly clapped both hands over her mouth to stifle yet another scream that she was sure Papa would not appreciate. The sound came out as a bubble of laughter anyway. "Truly?" she whispered.

Her father suddenly got an odd look on her face, one she had never seen directed at anyone other than Jane or Lizzy before. She was rather mystified by this, and her confusion showed.

"Kitty...I am not so blind as to not have notice how you have gained a good deal of sense in the past months," he began, "though I am sure I have never let on that I noticed."

"But Papa, I know you must have, or you would not have teased me about my reading so often," Kitty reminded him perplexedly.

He smiled again. "True, true...I still feel that there is much you could learn. I have every belief of you learning it at Pemberley," here he broke into a grin, "but you may begin with Bath."

With a squeal, Kitty flung herself at her father, who seemed quite thrown by this unexpected display of feeling.

"Now, Kitty," he said over the cacophony of "Thank you, Papa, thank you!"

"Kitty, you must understand that I am allowing Miss Bingley and Miss Avon to take you to Bath for the improvement of your education, rather than for leisure. You are to write to Jane and I every week to tell us of your progress and your adventures, and Mr. Bingley has placed similar restrictions on his sister with regards to himself. You are not to have any sort of relationship above a casual acquaintance with any gentlemen unless Misses Avon and Bingley are well acquainted with him, and have written to Jane, Mr. Bingley, or myself to inform us of the gentleman."

Kitty nearly laughed at this last one, but checked herself and recognized the intelligence of such a restriction. "Papa, may I go to Netherfield to tell Miss Samantha of the news? I will keep out of Jane and Mr. Bingley's way, and I will return within the hour," she quickly promised.

"I have already sent a note on to Netherfield informing them of my decision."

"Yet, I would so love to impart the news myself," Kitty pled.

Mr. Bennet sighed. "I will send for the carriage."

With a last embrace and a kiss on her father's cheek, Kitty ran to collect her bonnet and gloves while the carriage was sent for.

Miss Avon was just as ecstatic as Kitty over the news of her father's approval, and while she considered it beneath her to express her delight as unrestrainedly as Kitty was, for once she did not scold the girl for doing so (and she was not behaving very improperly). Even Miss Bingley seemed oddly pleased, though Kitty suspected this had more to do with the knowledge that her trip to Pemberley was being postponed.

Kitty was given as much information about the places they would visit in Bath, the people they would call on, and what she could expect of her daily schedule once they arrived, as the two ladies could convey in the short hour she remained with them. She was also given a good deal of advice on what to pack, though she assured them that this was not really needed, as Mama had been packing her things since the day the trip was first suggested.

Such was the tone of the interaction between the three young ladies in the confusing days leading up to their departure from Netherfield. However, this finally dissipated on the morning when the barouche, after leaving Netherfied, stopped at Longbourn for Kitty and her own luggage to climb aboard.

Her goodbyes to her family were very warm, knowing that she would not be seeing them at Longbourn until the winter of next year, at least. Mary was told rather insistently that she was to write of all the news from home, Mama was given a tight embrace amid her own weeping lamentations over the departure of her other "dearest girl", before Kitty was firmly told that she should wash her hair in lemon juice every day and to wear her green muslin at all formal gatherings, as the colour became her best.

"I promise I shan't do what Lydia did, even if it was romantic," she whispered to her father as she came to him last, kissing him again on the cheek for the second time in her life.

"You may run off with the worst man in England if you so choose, so long as we are all informed about it first," he said dryly.

"Papa!" And with that, Kitty climbed into the barouche and took a seat next to Miss Avon, who looked content to be returning to her own home, though in a show of graciousness, she did lean out the window with Kitty and waved farewell to the Bennets as the carriage left Longbourn.

Chapter 11

Posted on Saturday, 9 July 2005

Had Kitty been aware of the naive portrait the Colonel and his father were currently forming of her, she would not have been pleased. As it was, however, she had no notion of any such image being formed, and so had chosen to occupy the time directly following the gentlemen's departure by staring at the now-closed front door in a dreamy fashion.

"Colonel Richard," she sighed. "Is that not the most wonderful name you have ever heard?"

Miss Bingley, who had seen the gentlemen to the front door with the other ladies, could not respond to such a silly remark with anything other than disgust. Hearing Miss Avon's indulgent giggles assured her that she would get no help from that quarter, and never having been one to tolerate insensible behaviour for longer than was absolutely necessary, she retired to her room with hardly a word to the others.

Kitty reflected back on all that she had seen from Caroline Bingley that day as she watched the lady stalk away. "Miss Samantha, may I ask you a question?" She waited until she had received an affirmative response before continuing. "Is Miss Bingley feeling well today? She did not seem...her usual self."

Miss Avon could perceive the girl's deeper perturbation, and knew instantly what Miss Bennet had witnessed to cause her such discomfort. For a moment only, she considered not prying into the situation, and allowing Kitty to resolve her differences with Miss Bingley on her own. Yet there had always been in her character a tendency to interfere in matters that were not her concern, and this was no different.

"She did not?" she asked softly in turn. "On the contrary, Caroline seemed too much her usual self, and I believe that this is what bothers you, Kitty...you have now seen Caroline in the company of gentlemen."

Kitty whirled to face her in agitation. "So, it was because of the gentlemen's presence that Miss Bingley felt she had free license to behave in that detestable manner? For heaven's sake, she is not even that terrible in my presence, when we are alone."

Samantha sighed. "I am unsure of what to tell you, my dear...except to remind you of the age old saying that 'All is fair in love and war'. Women who are determined to marry will often use any means necessary to achieve their ends, and I am sure you have met with such determination in your lifetime before." Miss Avon did not see how she could not have, with a mother like hers. "Miss Bingley simply has her own way, as do...others." Kitty was reminded with some resentment of the way Miss Avon had put her on the spot earlier. "As will you, someday, though I would suggest that you change your current technique."

"I would never behave in a like manner simply because men are present," Kitty declared.

Miss Avon smiled at the irony. "Well, as you will, Kitty, though you must learn right away that gentlemen are not often impressed with incessant talk of militias and redcoats, and as I know there is something more sensible than wild tales of going to India in your head, you will need to find some other way to impress gentlemen if you are ever to catch a husband. You did not do so very badly today," she spoke quickly as Kitty moved to protest, "because the Colonel and his father are very kind gentlemen who will not think the worst of you for going on as you did earlier."

Kitty was left despondent by this, as she did not realize that she had even been trying to impress the Colonel beyond her attempts at making simple conversation (and after all, she had not lied). But she could still revive herself enough to tease her friend.

"I suppose it matters a very little, anyway, as you are obviously the one quite violently in love with him. Oh yes, I saw you flirt today, Miss Samantha!"

Samantha snickered at her behaviour. "I'll have you know, Miss Bennet, that I have quite a few men at my beck and call, and the Colonel is but one of many," she said in a lofty tone. "Of course, he is a particular favourite of mine, and he will have a great deal of potential upon receiving his inheritance, but I am hardly limited, and you might do well to take notes."

"Inheritance...?" Kitty echoed curiously.

"Well, never mind all that," Miss Avon spoke quickly, placing her hand against the small of Kitty's back and propelling her toward the library. "You are still full young, anyway, though girls have been married at younger ages than yours. Now, we will do a bit of reading, and then I want to see a drawing of yours before we go in to supper."

Kitty tilted her head back to smile impishly at the elder lady as they walked. "For your convenience, I do not believe you should want me to imitate your tactics, Miss Samantha, as I daresay I should become even more charming than you!"

The corridor echoed with Samantha's answering laughter.

Yet that night found Kitty at her writing desk, recalling the Colonel's obvious admiration for Miss Samantha, and distantly wondering what it might be like to have such admiration fixed on herself.

He has dark eyes, she thought with a giggle. Rather like mine, I suppose, only his are flecked with gold... And yet he was so much older than any of the militia officers she had been attracted to. Additionally, he was, as she had verbally observed, so much different than the other men, so much more serious for all his pleasant manners. Whereas she could easily imagine the dashing Lieutenants Denny and Wickham sweeping a woman off her feet and whisking her away into the sunset in a blinding passion of love (she still remembered how frighteningly envious she had been of Lydia when her sister had first sent notice of her impending elopement from Brighton), she could not imagine such passion existing in Colonel Richard any more than she could imagine it existing in Colonel Forster, though he was a good deal handsomer than the latter.

Even so, she was curious, as Miss Samantha seemed to enjoy his company very much.

She was meant to be writing a letter to Georgiana, who had sent a response shortly after Kitty's last missive had been delivered. Her letters to Jane were also overdue, but letter writing was such a tedious business! She would never have imagined it to be so when she was at home, for certainly there was far less news to tell from Longbourn than there was from Bath. With a sigh, she collapsed backward in her chair.

A sharp tap was heard at the door, a moment before Caroline Bingley entered her room. Her acute gaze was quick to take in the half-finished letters on the desk along with Kitty's ink-stained fingers.

"You have not yet finished your letter to your sister?" she said, her mien clearly revealing displeasure at Kitty's palpable guilt. "I assumed you had retired early this evening in order to do so, and was hoping to send it off with mine on the morrow."

"I attempted to write a letter to Georgiana first," Kitty tried to explain, "but I have long since realized that I have little news to impart to either of them." Pausing a moment before adding the next, she studied Miss Bingley cautiously, unsure of how the lady would take it after the remarks Kitty had overheard about herself earlier that day. "Other than how well a manner I have been conducting myself in these days."

But Caroline was in a reasonably good mood that night, for she only smirked at this. "Truly? You did not inform Jane of your...meeting," this was drawled out disdainfully, "with Lord Matlock and his son in the Sydney Gardens?"

Kitty cringed. "You will not tell them at home of that business, will you?" she pleaded.

Caroline shrugged; it was perhaps the most consciously inelegant gesture Kitty had ever seen the woman make. "Your humiliations are your own, Catherine, you may do as you please with them," she said with a faint sneer.

Kitty sighed in relief. "Then I will not speak of it again; I have told Georgiana in confidence, and I am sure that is enough."

A distant expression came into Miss Bingley's eyes at her words. "Is Georgiana well, then?" she enquired, and affection was discernable in her tone. "It seems so long since I last saw her."

"I am surprised at that, although she said the very same thing in her last letter," Kitty replied, picking up the aforementioned missive. "'I have not seen Caroline since this past winter, and it seems so long ago. Do send her my regards.' I think it incredibly ridiculous. If you will not begin a correspondence with her yourself, then you should at least visit each other at some point." Caroline's countenance became oddly closed at this, and Kitty realized that she must have said something wrong, though she could not imagine what it had been. "...If it will please you, I will stay up late tonight and finish both letters, so that you may send them off with yours tomorrow anyway," she added hesitantly.

Caroline looked down her nose at the girl. "You were meant to retire hours ago, Catherine, and look at yourself, you are hardly even in your bedclothes. No young lady will be staying up until some ungodly hour in this house," she snapped. "Prepare yourself for bed."

Kitty stuck her tongue out at the older lady, knowing that this would irritate her and feeling the action was well justified. "It is not your house," she retorted impudently, "and I have been ready for bed for an age. Look, I am in my nightclothing and everything!"

Caroline pointed at the messy braid that Kitty had swept her hair into. "Is this your definition of well prepared for bed?" she asked disparagingly. "No wonder your hair always appears so unseemly. If you will go to my rooms, there is a little bathwater remaining in the basin -- wash your fingers there, and then return so that I may show you a proper braid."

Bristling at this high-handed treatment, Kitty nevertheless decided that it would be in her best interests to follow Miss Bingley's instructions, as the lady had been so dangerously upset with her lately. She did so, with only a few muttered remarks that Caroline was good enough to write off as merely an inherited trait of impertinence, before seating herself at the vanity and allowing Miss Bingley to undo her (she thought) carefully made up hair. As the other lady reached for a brush and began pulling it through Kitty's hair, Kitty took the opportunity to study her in the mirror, for Miss Bingley appeared rather different in her nightclothes than she did during the day. Her dark hair was down, long as it framed her face and made her appear younger, but her own braid was certainly more elegant than Kitty's had been, and even now she was as refined and imposing as ever. Kitty wondered at the cost of such eternal poise.

She was not aware that she was being similarly examined by the woman behind her, but Caroline's thoughts were contemplative as her fingers deftly moved through Kitty's hair. The girl, like all of her sisters with the exception of Jane, was not pretty in a conventional sense. She was petite and dark and not at all delicate in temper, though she had the appearance of delicacy in her features; whereas the models of beauty in this age were girls like Georgiana Darcy: fair, modest and graceful. Yet even Caroline could allow that Bath had been good for Kitty; of course, it was much easier to own this now that Miss Bennet's visit was nearly half over, but she could not ignore the new glow to the girl's skin, nor the sparkle in her eyes and the way she had improved in manners, if not essentials. It was harder to explain the reasons for such changes, as Caroline herself had only one sister, and she had never been in Louisa's shadow (if anything, Louisa had been in hers), but she guessed correctly that the girl was probably flourishing here, away from her family and the surroundings of the past eighteen years.

She also felt that the girl needed a haircut, which she surmised with an annoyed frown as her fingers tangled slightly in the chestnut locks.

"This evening, Miss Avon informed me of a few concerns you seem to have about my conduct this afternoon," Caroline shot out casually.

She watched as Kitty froze, before a strangely defiant expression overcame her features. "If I do, it is only because you behaved shockingly, while you have constantly berated me for doing the same."

"Indeed," murmured Caroline softly; Kitty could not trust such a dangerous tone. "Miss Bennet, may I ask you just what has been occupying your time tonight? You have had ample time to finish writing both letters to your sisters; as I recall, you retired from the parlour over four hours ago. What could possibly have distracted you for so long?"

Kitty flushed hotly, not comprehending how Miss Bingley could possibly know about her thoughts of Colonel Richard and the other officers she was acquainted with. "You may not ask, Miss Bingley, it is none of your business!"

Miss Bingley, oddly enough, did not immediately take the girl to account at such rudeness, but continued to speak, her tone only slightly harsher. "Then perhaps I might guess. You could not have been daydreaming about a certain Colonel sweeping you off your feet and disappearing into the sunset with you, could you?"

Kitty could not stifle a snort of laughter at this, recognizing the game, and also recognizing the incredible irony of Caroline's extremely calculated guess. "Well actually," she began cheerfully, but Caroline cut her off, not at all pleased with the girl's tone.

"Of course you were," she snapped, before calming herself and returning to an even tone. "Catherine, here I am thinking that you have finally become halfway sensible, and here you have filled your head with romance and elopements and other ridiculous sensibilities. Surely you must be aware that marriage is a woman's best means of gaining security, position, recognition...and yes, wealth, every lady wishes to marry well. You play at cattiness so well; you cannot be ignorant of this. If nothing else, your mother would have made sure that you were not."

Kitty was shocked, and responded heatedly. "Do not"

But Miss Bingley cut her off again. "Two of your sisters married very well."

"Three of them did," Kitty informed her stubbornly, "for Lydia and Mr. Wickham are quite in love."

Miss Bingley sniffed in heavy derision at this. "Am I not to get through to you at all, Catherine?" she demanded. "Love has very little, if anything, to do with marriage. Naturally, it is very nice if there can be mutual respect and affection between a married pair, for it is easier to work together to rise in the esteem of their peers and advance in society, but it begins when a man recognizes a woman he believes will be a capable mistress to his home and mother to his children. It begins when a woman recognizes a possible advantageous match when she sees one, and does all she can to make it transpire." Catching sight of Kitty's suddenly drawn face, Caroline gently rubbed the girl's shoulder in an utterly foreign gesture of reassurance. "Love comes before the marriage, Catherine, not afterward. And it is rarely the dizzying sort of drivel that takes hold of your senses and only exists in novels, or it would make people insensible and delirious. Did I not tell you that those novels would rot your brain?"

She resumed braiding Kitty's hair as silence fell for a few minutes. Kitty finally spoke when she could no longer bear the silence, nor pretend to believe Miss Bingley. "But Jane and Mr. Bingley love each other. The love in novels, I mean, I have seen it."

Caroline pursed her lips in annoyance, saying nothing for a moment. "And has this made Charles any more sensible than he was before? Or your sister?"

"Jane is happier than I have ever seen her, which certainly says something, as she has the cheeriest disposition of us all," Kitty replied defensively. "And she has always been sensible."

"I will own that my brother and your sister are well suited, as they are of similar dispositions, and of course the match was very advantageous for Jane, not that I believe this to be the only reason that they were wed." Caroline added this last very quickly; she had seen actual rage flash momentarily in Kitty's eyes (recognizing it only because she had seen the same expression in Charles's eyes far too often as of late), but for once, and to her own surprise, she was truly interested in getting through to the girl, and did not want to ruin any progress with petty bickering. "But even if it were, it would be a compliment to your sister's charms; much of London's society is already of this opinion, for Jane is the only woman who has ever induced Charles to even consider matrimony. Nevertheless, as much as I love my brother, Charles was never the most intelligent man I have ever known, and I do not see that his marriage has changed this. If anything, his love for Jane blinds him to many things." Primarily the many unbearable flaws of the rest of the Bennet family, but Caroline allowed her breeding to prevent her from saying this.

Kitty thought that this was very romantic, and was in fact one of her favourite things about her brother-in-law at Netherfield, but Caroline's lecture had started to introduce doubts, so she remained silent on the subject.

Caroline absently continued to speak as she neared the end of Kitty's long braid. "He has always left the truly important matters to people of higher intelligence," she grumbled, "such as Mr. Darcy, who truly is of a brilliant mind...or so I thought."

She knew instantly that she had said entirely too much when Kitty's eyes met her own in the vanity mirror.

"Yet he fell in love with Lizzy," Kitty said softly, many things finally coming together in her head. Of course, Mr. Darcy had to have fallen in love with her second-eldest sister, for Lizzy, even without confiding in her sisters other than Jane, had always made it clear to them all that she would never marry for anything other than the very deepest love; and Kitty doubted that this meant love only on Lizzy's part. "...Is that why you hate her so much?"

She winced as one of her locks was sharply tugged, but Caroline's face remained a mask.

"Do not flatter your sister so, Catherine," she said coldly. "Miss Eliza could hardly inspire such a feeling in me, she deserves no such attention. I do not pretend to understand how she induced such a man into accepting her as the mistress of his estate, and can only surmise that Mr. Darcy was never as intelligent as I believed him to be."

Kitty ignored the obvious bitterness in this statement as she pressed on. "But you must believe that love can exist both before and within a marriage, for did you not love Mr. Darcy?"

"I did not," Caroline said truthfully, but Kitty only rolled her eyes.

"Very well, did you hold any affection for him?"

Miss Bingley did not reply, and Kitty nodded, becoming silent with contemplation. Among other things that were occupying her mind, she was finding it hard to believe that the man they had been discussing in such romantic and dramatic terms was the proud Mr. Darcy. It was odd to think of anyone loving such a cold man enough to become jealous and bitter when he married someone else, just like something out of a novel. Yet Georgiana Darcy, whenever she wrote of her brother in her letters, always mentioned him in the most affectionate of terms, and Lizzy, of all people, had been the one to marry him, though Kitty was sure that she had disliked him something fierce just last summer. Certainly, she herself knew very little about Mr. Darcy.

She wanted to defend her sister, but had little wish to inspire an argument at this late hour, on a topic she had only recently discovered she knew almost nothing about.

"Do you hate me, as well?" This was piped up instead, as the girl remembered Caroline's cutting remarks earlier that day.

As with her last question, this received no immediate response, but Caroline's hands soon left her hair with a tug that was much gentler than the last. "Your braid is finished. There, now this is a proper one to wear to bed."

Kitty beamed up at her, before turning to examine herself in the mirror. "I shall never remember how to do it myself, but thank you all the same, Miss Bingley," she said chirpily.

Miss Bingley made her way to the door. "You are to retire immediately, Catherine, the hour is already very late. I will send your letters tomorrow evening."

"Miss Bingley?" Kitty called her back with a hesitant smile. "You never take my advice, preferring to impart rather than to receive...but I really believe that men should really like you better if you were to be yourself, rather than...um, yourself?" After all, Caroline really had not been behaving in a foreign manner that day...simply in an eerily-too-familiar manner.

Miss Bingley glowered at her young sister-in-law. "Miss Bennet, I will tell you right now that sensible men do not want a woman with her head in the clouds, so you would do well to fix that trait of yours. They want sensible women who know what they want, and can show them what they want...the means are no more of a concern than the people who might stand in the way."

With that, the lady exited Kitty's chambers, leaving Kitty with much to think on as she retired for the night.

The next few days brought only two respites in the established routine that had become Kitty's steady lifestyle in Bath.

The first was a letter from Mary, and the contents of said letter were enough to leave Kitty in the most absorbed state of contemplation she had ever been in throughout her life. Aside from informing her of the news from Longbourn, Mary had written to tell her that Mr. Simmons, that odious clerk of their uncle Phillips, had made her an offer of marriage. She had managed to put off a definite response when he had first asked, and he had allowed her to carefully consider her decision. Though she did not specifically mention doing so in her letter, even Kitty could perceive that her elder sister was seeking her guidance.

The news was received with a variety of emotions; initially, and very briefly, there had been jealousy that Mary, of all people, had been proposed to before Kitty herself. Yet this was quick to dissipate at the reminder of just how off-putting the gentleman in question truly was, and she had been halfway through penning an immediate reply informing Mary that under no circumstances was she to accept that man's offer, before humility had set in with surprising intensity. Kitty was deeply flattered that Mary valued her opinion enough to seek her counsel, especially after so recently having heard her sister's condemnation of her silliness; this humbled her enough to realize that she could not give Mary advice based on a quick decision that she had barely even considered. A month ago, she would have been certain that there was little to consider: Mr. Simmons was an abhorrent man who was only interested in personal gain, and did not even have the situation of a clergyman to recommend him. There was little chance of Mary finding love or happiness in such a marriage, and Kitty did not believe Mary deserved this, regardless of how disapproving and moralistic she had been to Kitty over the years.

Yet her conversation with Miss Bingley came back to haunt her, as did the lady's declaration that few people looked for love in a marriage, and it occurred to Kitty that should she write to Mary with the lack of current love and her own disgust for Mr. Simmons as her only objections to the match, Mary might very well lose conviction in the soundness of her opinion, and marry the man anyway. Was she right to even have objections to the marriage? Certainly, it was an eligible enough match, as Uncle Phillips valued Mr. Simmons as a clerk, and would be sure to aid his niece in any way he possibly could. Kitty could not imagine that Mary would have very much to connect with her suitor over, but Mary had always seemed to prefer solitary reading to company, anyway, and might well be content in a marriage where the couple went their separate ways. Furthermore, were Kitty to convince Mary to reject this offer, she might ruin Mary's hopes of ever marrying at all; it had always gone without saying that Mary was the plainest of the Bennet girls.

Still, Kitty could not reconcile herself to the match, even after all these considerations, for she could not be convinced that Mary would not receive better someday. After two days of exhaustive thinking, which she suffered through alone as she felt the matter was too personal to involve Miss Bingley or even Miss Avon, she resolved to put the whole thing aside when a more agreeable prospect was introduced to occupy her mind with. This, in fact, turned out to be the second surprise, and came in the form of her very first night to the theatre.

Mrs. Middleton, as an old friend of the late Mr. and Mrs. Avon, was one of the few callers who was received regularly at 24 Pulteney-street that month, a right she had little guilt in exploiting as often as she could. Kitty was disposed to like her well enough, but she sensed that Miss Avon found her company tiresome and irritating; yet she could not dishonour the memory of her parents, and so bore it with civility nearly every day. Kitty was never so glad of this as she was on the afternoon that Mrs. Middleton came calling to invite the Avons and their houseguests to a performance at the theatre the following night.

"It is only 'The Marriage of Figaro', which is a pity, as I had hoped to get the tickets for 'Don Giovanni'; Cleone rather adores that performance, you know," she prattled, with a significant look in Mr. Avon's direction as she mentioned her spinster daughter, "but I daresay it would be made all the more agreeable if you were to join us, sir -- and you girls, you have been trapped in this house for this last year at least, the town is quite wondering what you are up to."

Miss Avon smiled through her clenched teeth, a polite refusal already on her lips; but Kitty's hand had flown to her mouth far too late to prevent an excited gasp from escaping. The girl dropped her eyes lest she betrayed herself further, but Samantha had already seen the longing.

So had Mrs. Middleton, as she soon made clear. "There, I see you are tempted, young lady," she exclaimed triumphantly. "My dear Miss Avon, do think about it, for it will be quite dull with only my daughter and myself in my husband's box, and your company will surely liven up the evening."

"I am sure I do not see how an evening so pleasantly spent could ever be dull," Kitty chimed in, before returning quietly to her needlework at Miss Bingley's censuring gaze.

With a quick glance at his sister, Mr. Avon opened his mouth to answer for himself. "My deepest apologies, Mrs. Middleton, I am afraid I will not be in attendance, as I have a prior engagement."

Caroline permitted herself a smirk of delight as she watched the open disappointment on Mrs. Middleton's countenance. Her happiness, however, was significantly dampened when Miss Avon chose to make a speedy decision.

"As for myself and my friends, Mrs. Middleton, we should be delighted to go," she told the elderly lady cheerfully. "You are quite right, it has been an age and a half since any of us have gone outside, and I reckon an opera is just the thing."

Caroline stared at the woman in disbelief, but any protests she might have voiced were quite drowned out by Kitty's exuberant cheers and laughter, not that she could have politely voiced them in Mrs. Middleton's presence.

"My dear Samantha, may I enquire as to your line of thinking?" she asked in a sweet voice much later, when Mrs. Middleton had departed and Miss Samantha had sent Kitty to go rest in her room.

Samantha eyed her with inward laughter, having picked up on the blatantly insincere tone, but she put aside her taunting. "Well, only think about it, Caroline; Mrs. Middleton did say that our seclusion is becoming the talk of the town, and whatever her shortcomings, she can be relied on to know of the latest intrigues. I have no wish to cause one right now, so close to Kitty's departure from Bath."

Miss Bingley hesitated. "I will concede on that point, Samantha, but what of your promise to Mr. Bennet?"

Samantha waved a hand impatiently. "Oh never mind that; I doubt he expected the girl not to have any fun at all, and this can well be considered an educational experience. The performance will, of course, be in Italian, and it is high time that Kitty learnt another language. Besides, over half the town has departed Bath in favour of the country, so there is little danger of Kitty causing a large scandal; which, mind you, I highly doubt she will."

Nothing Caroline said could dissuade Miss Avon from her steadfast resolution; and once Kitty was later apprised of the full details of their outing, she was hardly of a mind to take Miss Bingley's side of the argument, not that she would have to begin with. Had Caroline actually sat down to consider her strongest objections to the scheme, she might have been shocked to realize that she was more afraid of what Charles would say when he found out that Kitty had been exposed to such a hazardous situation, then she was of the probabilities of a wealthy, connected man finding himself charmed by the young Miss Bennet. But as she was not in the habit of considering these things very carefully, she soon allowed Miss Avon's and Miss Bennet's persuasions to overrule her misgivings, and spent the entirety of the following day carefully preparing for that evening. It was her first evening in society after a long absence, and she was determined to look better than Miss Cleone Middleton.

Initially, Samantha had not intended to allow Kitty to indulge herself in the manner Miss Bingley was, and had attempted to force the girl to take a nap so that she would not be tired later that night; but after only a few casual mentions on Kitty's part of how lovely Caroline was sure to appear that night, Miss Avon disappeared to begin her own preparations, and Kitty was left to her own devices.

She spent a long time soaking in the bath that had been made for her, and an even longer time washing her hair; the tips of her fingers had wrinkled before she finally left the bathwater and returned to her room, where her gown for the evening had already been laid out. There had been no time to go shopping, so she was to wear her green muslin to the opera. Kitty did not mind this very much, as the muslin itself was relatively new (she had not yet had a chance to wear it); but when Miss Avon curiously peeked into her room wearing a very elegant deep-blue gown complete with a feathered headdress, Kitty could not help but feel very simply dressed in comparison.

Samantha eyed Kitty's gown in a critiquing fashion, while Sophia, the girl's temporary maid, adorned Kitty's hair with small white flowers.

"Well, it will have to do, and it does bring out the little green in your eyes. Why, I had never noticed that before! Sophia, put those flowers away. Kitty, would you not rather wear one of my headdresses? I am sure we can find one for you."

Kitty frowned when Sophia paused in her ministrations. "But I like the flowers," she protested; indeed, her hair was the most pleasing part of her appearance this evening, for she did not think it had ever been half so becomingly styled before. "And all of your things are far too large for me anyway, Miss Samantha."

"Terrible girl! If you were not so petite, you would not have these sorts of problems. And why do I smell lemons?"

Kitty grinned over her shoulder at her friend, jolting her maid's work in the process. "Oh!" sorry, Sophia! I washed my hair with lemon juice; Mama says that this will make my hair fairer with time."

"Oh." Miss Avon laughed. "I remember doing things like that at your age; my nose was quite a fright, and I would spend hours simply pinching and rubbing it to make it smaller. Well, I do believe it worked, for I have been complimented on my nose a fair few times."

Sophia finished with Kitty's hair, and after a quick thank-you from both ladies, she curtsied and left the room. Miss Avon similarly rushed Kitty out the door. "Now hurry my dear, you have quite put us behind schedule, and the Middletons will be here to collect us at any moment. Think of me what you will for saying so, but I do not relish our company for the evening, and see little prospect for enjoyment; however, I believe you are of the opinion that the opportunity to see this performance is even worth having to bear their company, so I will not say a word."

"I think rather well of them," said Kitty stoutly, snatching up her reticule before she was propelled entirely out of the room. "And Miss Middleton is so pretty, I wonder at her being a spinster." The lady in question was even older than Charlotte Collins had been when she had gotten married, yet in Kitty's opinion she was almost as beautiful as Jane.

"Well, she always has been a dull sort of wallflower," Samantha told her dismissively. "Miss Middleton does have the means to live as such with very little consequence to herself; although I suppose I have occasionally wondered at this myself, for I was certain there was once an attachment between herself and my brother."

Kitty nearly tripped down the staircase at this news, and stared at Miss Avon with eyes even larger than normal. "But we will not tell Caroline, yes?" Samantha smirked, and they both giggled as they met Miss Bingley in the parlour. That lady was carefully smoothing her white gloves and could not be bothered to find out what had her friend and ward in such high spirits. Though she was rather irritated by the muted elegance of Miss Kitty's appearance in only a simple green muslin, with flowers and a pearl necklace as her only adornment (it was the same easy elegance that London had praised in both the eldest Bennet sisters, though Caroline had personally only seen it in Jane), she herself was dressed at the height of fashion, and was more than reasonably certain that she looked very well.

Their party drew attention from the moment they had stepped out of the carriage; some were curious as to the identity of the pretty but rather young girl in the presence of such elegant ladies, most simply found it odd to see a group of five ladies at the theater without a single gentleman escort. Mrs. Middleton spent quite a bit of time loudly bemoaning the latter fact while her daughter made several attempts to ease her state of mind, but the other two ladies bore all this with ease and pride, and Kitty was too ecstatic over her surroundings to even notice the attention they were garnering.

Awestruck by the interior of the Theatre Royal, Kitty was nearly separated from her friends on several occasions when she fell behind to gaze at some decoration that had caught her eye. Finally fed up with this behaviour, Miss Bingley grabbed the young lady's wrist in an viselike grip and did not let go until they had reached the Middletons' box, simply glaring when Kitty began protesting.

"I would like nothing more than for you to display a modicule of the decorum Miss Avon and I have been teaching you for the past two months, but if you insist on behaving like a child, you will be treated as one."

Kitty was soundly chastened by this harsh rebuke, and upon taking a seat in the box between Miss Avon and Miss Middleton, she limited herself to surreptitious peeks at the other boxes and the fashionable dress of the patrons, while maintaining a conversation with Miss Middleton and ignoring the loud whispers emanating from the other theatregoers.

Caroline found it more difficult to ignore these whispers, for she was certain that most of them concerned Kitty; and having witnessed Kitty's childish behaviour only a few minutes ago, had doubts about the girl conducting herself in a seemly manner and was extremely worried about being connected to her. She voiced these concerns to Samantha, who brushed them aside, more certain that the whispers concerned herself (after all, a good portion of Bath did not know that she had even returned to town).

"Kitty is behaving perfectly, Caroline, which you would see if you were not so eager to find fault in everything she does! The girl is merely excited, she cannot ever have been to such a grand performance in her life, and especially never in a box seat."

Caroline opened her mouth to reply tartly, but was distracted by the sight of Kitty waving excitedly, though not flamboyantly, at the box directly opposite their own. Following her gaze, both Misses Avon and Bingley caught sight of Lord Matlock and his son the Colonel; the earl was laughing as he jovially returned Miss Bennet's wave, and the Colonel did the same, though in a significantly less enthusiastic manner.

After smiling and nodding in acknowledgement of the two gentlemen, Miss Bingley reached across Miss Avon to poke Kitty hard. "Catherine!" she hissed.

Kitty jumped slightly, before turning to her with a sheepish, slightly confused smile. "I'm sorry, Miss Bingley, only I thought...well, I was under the impression that waving is permitted..." she glanced to Miss Avon for help.

"It is, but one generally exchanges smiles and nods in greeting from across the theatre, Kitty," Samantha explained.

Kitty nodded, before mischievously wrinkling her nose at Samantha. "Perhaps there is a fairer prospect for enjoyment this evening, after all," she smiled, before turning back to Miss Middleton.

Miss Bingley simply raised an eyebrow as she narrowed her eyes accusingly at Miss Avon, who, already laughing at her incorrigible young friend, did not have a chance to defend her earlier statements before the lights were lowered, and the performance commenced.

During the intermission following the first act, Lord Matlock and Colonel Richard paid a visit to the Middleton box.

"My lord and Colonel." Miss Avon stood up to greet them, smiling graciously as the earl bent over her outstretched hand in greeting, and coyly when the Colonel kissed it afterward. "I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is to see you both this evening."

"The sentiment is well returned, I assure you," Lord Matlock responded, "and Miss Bingley, a welcome pleasure to see you as well."

"Thank you, my lord."

Miss Avon made the introductions between their visitors and the Middletons, which quite put Mrs. Middleton in a flutter; though she was part of Bath's higher social circles, she had yet to be directly acquainted with an earl. And it certainly helped that the son was so pleasant, as well.

After remaining in polite conversation with Mrs. Middleton and Miss Bingley for some time, the earl turned to Kitty, who had up to that point alternated between gazing in awe at the members of Bath's high society through the doors of their box, and engaging in conversation with Miss Middleton.

"Have I so offended you, Miss Bennet, that I am not to even be acknowledged?" There was a note of condemnation in the earl's voice that made Kitty's attention snap to him instantly.

"Oh no, my lord, and I apologize," she hurried to reassure him, before adding in a rather solemn tone, "although I am not yet willing to concede to your views on the proper ways to perform an aria."

Lord Matlock, rather surprisingly, laughed at this, though Miss Bingley clearly felt there was little to be amused with, as indicated by her censuring gaze in Kitty's direction.

"How glad I am, then, that you have the opportunity of taking in this opera tonight and seeing your favourite song performed correctly; with both playing and singing."

"Be that as it may, my lord," said Kitty primly, struggling not to glower and carefully not looking at Miss Bingley. "I feel that music is music, whether it contains only singing or playing, or even both. I enjoy both, to be perfectly honest, but do not think that either one or the other is completely necessary, and you will never catch me singing."

"I daresay I will hear you sing yet, Miss Bennet, I am quite persistent." With an amused smile, he turned to Miss Bingley. "Your girl here seems to be a little green on the subject of music."

"She is a little in all areas, my lord, but we are working on it," was Miss Bingley's dry response.

"Persist all you want, for it will be your own folly if you do make me sing," was Kitty's, as she was a little vexed and had answered recklessly.

But instead of rebuking her, the earl felt that a stalemate had been reached, and so moved onto the topic of the night's performance. The two discussed the opera for a little while, before Mrs. Middleton engaged Lord Matlock in conversation and Kitty was free to join the other ladies, who were holding a lively discourse with Colonel Richard. For some time, she was unable to get a word in edgewise, as he was quite charming the other three; even Miss Bingley looked slightly affected. But during a lull in the conversation, he turned to Kitty with a smile.
"And you, Miss Bennet, how are you finding tonight's performance?"

Kitty was ridiculously pleased with being noticed apart from the other ladies, however casual his attention to her might be, and her response came out a little breathless. "Oh!" I am enjoying myself immensely, Colonel, as this is perhaps my very favourite opera."

"Then this must be quite the pleasant evening for you, Miss Bennet. You must tell me how well you enjoyed it upon the opera's conclusion."

"I will; and yes, this entire evening has so far been most agreeably spent." Kitty paused for a moment, before persisting in the hopes of keeping his attentions. "And yourself, Colonel Richard? Is everything to your liking?" she asked, leaning forward just the slightest bit.

The Colonel blinked at Miss Bennet's awkward behaviour and the turnabout in their conversation, but replied with composure. "Indeed I am, Miss Bennet."

"I wonder if this is not also one of your favourite operas?" Kitty widened her eyes in an affectation of utmost curiosity, so that their becoming shade could be more easily appreciated against the green of her muslin. "It is one of the most romantic tales I know of, though it is primarily a comedy, would you not agree?"

"I have been known to appreciate it both ways, yes," said the Colonel tolerantly.

At this point, Miss Avon recalled the Colonel's attention to herself, easily revealing Kitty's efforts for the amateurish attempts they were. Yet Kitty was far too elated by her personal triumph to be deterred by this, having enjoyed her attempts at the sort of flirtations permissible in high society, and deciding she liked the Colonel very much for being her first test subject. While Kitty could see that Samantha also admired Colonel Richard, the lady did not appear to have any official claims on him, and had named the terms of love herself. Perhaps there was truth in Miss Bingley's presumptions on men and marriage, after all; and if the Colonel's response to her subtle flirtations had been rather vague, Kitty remembered the conclusion she had drawn of him the other night and only resolved to try harder when they next spoke. So she waited patiently, but was disappointed when the Colonel and his father took their leave before this could happen.

However, the following influx of visitors and well-wishers that next invaded the Middleton box proved to be distracting. Kitty took pains to imitate the mannerisms of Miss Avon and Miss Bingley as she was introduced to their friends: simpering Lady Walkerton and shy Miss Amelia Heathstead, booming, cynical Sir Jenson and the very arrogant (Kitty thought) Mr. John Langston, among many others that Kitty lost track of; all curious as to Miss Avon's sudden presence in town, and of the friends she had brought with her.

Kitty was entranced with the seemingly endless parade of colourfully embroidered fans, coiffed beards, rich feathers and sparkling jewels. The mellow conversations and dulcet laughter drew her in, and she felt a bit out of place. Yet she persevered in keeping face, determined to present everything that her current guardians had taught her; and upon overhearing the repeated praises of herself as "Utterly charming!" and "The dearest girl!", she would dimple with pleasure. Mr. Langston was giving her appreciative glances, and she was again flushed with her own success that night, her earlier disappointment quite placated.

During the intermission following the third act, Kitty finally tired of the box and told her companions that she would take a brief tour of the theatre lobby before returning for the final act.

"Very well," agreed Samantha reluctantly, not entirely trusting Kitty on her own. "But do be quick, you will not wish to be stuck outside of the box before the production begins."

Despite this warning, the Colonel came upon young Miss Bennet only ten minutes before the start of the fourth act, still gazing in awe at the royal family's coat of arms where they were displayed in the theatre's lobby, while absently humming a tune that he recognized as La vendetta, an aria from the first act of the opera they were watching. This unguarded moment of wonder was perhaps the most charming picture she had presented all evening, for it was one of only few in a series of unguarded charm that he had noticed were becoming scarce.

"I take it from your fascination with everything around you that you are indeed enjoying this evening very much," the Colonel observed with amusement when Kitty caught sight of him out of the corner of eye.

"Colonel!" Kitty's tone bordered on petulance, and she paused in order to fix it. "You should have made your presence noticed."

"You were so entranced that I had no wish to disturb you," he replied, "although I was sent to, for your own presence is greatly missed among your friends, and the production is about to begin."

"I was not so entranced," muttered Kitty.

"You were indeed enraptured, and I believe you quite misled my father when you said you did not sing. I was unaware myself that you could speak Italian."

Kitty blinked. "I cannot."

Now it was the Colonel who was confused. "But I have seen you singing along with the actors to nearly all of the arias," he said slowly.

Kitty giggled and eyed the man coyly. "You have watched me so closely, then?"

The Colonel sighed in an oddly disappointed manner. "I apologize, Miss Bennet, if that is the impression I gave you."

Kitty frowned, but remembering her earlier resolve, skipped to his side and dimpled flirtatiously up at him. "Well, I thank you for coming to fetch me, Colonel Richard. Shall we head back?"

As propriety demanded, he offered her his arm. She was more than happy to take it, and to keep up a steady flow of conversation on their way back to the box in a manner not unlike that of her guardians. She pelted him with seemingly innocent questions, and even a few concerning his mysterious inheritance, though she stopped these at the Colonel's decidedly (and strangely) reserved manner. She laughed at all the right moments, affected knowledge and interest as best she could in all of his short responses, and felt just as pleased with herself as she had during the first intermission.

The Colonel was not as impressed, however and quickly becoming impatient with both her weak-minded interrogation and her overtures, which were in fact not very discreet at all.

"Do you not find that shade of primrose to be the vilest you have ever seen?" Kitty asked, scrunching up her nose as she nodded toward a young woman she had seen speaking to the Colonel earlier that night. "The poor girl. Some people should stay away from that colour altogether."

At this, the Colonel finally lost his patience, and even a bit of his natural good humour. "Miss Bennet, that was ungenerous."

Kitty laughed lightly. "But it is only the truth, and you must know that I am never deceitful."

The Colonel was silent for a while before speaking again. "May I enquire as to the date on which you go to visit your sister?"

Kitty drew back slightly at this. "This is rather hostile. Are you so eager to be rid of me, Colonel?" she asked, only half teasing.

"I did not intend to imply such a thing, but I do believe it would be in your best interests if you were to leave on your scheduled date," he answered with reserve.

Kitty gasped, stung. "How utterly rude!" she huffed. "Why, I believe you are eager to be rid of me, Colonel Richard. Then you should not worry about a thing; though I leave in a fortnight, I will be sure not to force you to endure my company. You may return me to my friends, but I will not suffer to speak to you again, for I am quite angry with you!"

This speech was intended to make the man feel guilty, but the Colonel only rolled his eyes, though he did as she requested and led her back to the box in icy silence. Infuriated by his lack of response and disappointed that she could have been so deceived in his pleasant character, Kitty was as good as her word; but made such a show of her anger that her pointed silence was rendered ineffective. The Colonel simply counted it as a blessing when he had finally dropped her off with her friends with no regret, and managed to return to his father's box without meeting the curious gaze of Miss Bingley.

He was in ill humour to give consequence to infatuated young girls to begin with, having hoped for a quiet respite away from the eyes of society before returning to his regiment, and instead been met with the idea of visiting the theatre. But even considering the little he had seen of her, which was actually less flattering than more, he had expected more from Miss Bennet and consequently felt rather deceived himself.

It did not help that upon returning to his box, he was forced to endure his father's praising of Miss Bennet to several other patrons who were curious about "the fresh little girl with beautiful eyes". This disturbed him more than he liked to admit; for the Colonel and his father could usually be counted on to form the same opinion of people, and he had seen very little of the charm and none of the originality Lord Matlock was admiring in the childish hybrid of Miss Avon and Miss Bingley he had just been with.

"Did you find her, then?" Lord Matlock asked his son as the performance was beginning once more.

"I did, Papa, and she was quite well...though I rather wonder at your admiration; for she has nearly run you down and refuses to concur with your personal views -- your conversations are only just civil. You have formed rivalries over less." And the earl had not even acknowledged any possible connection between himself and Miss Bennet

The earl perceived his son's annoyance in the younger man's dry address and chuckled. "There, did I not tell you not to let her infatuation with you cloud your judgement? I suppose she is like any other child, filled with obstinacy and self-assurance; but I daresay I have never met any other than your mother who could be so, and remain universally charming despite it all."

"Have you not, Papa?" the Colonel pressed, trying to make his father draw his own conclusions. "Can you not think of at least one lady?"

But either Miss Bennet was too dissimilar to the lady in question, or his father was already distracted by the fourth act of the opera, for he drew no such connection. "I cannot, Richard, and I will have no more of this talk. I stand by my conviction that Miss Bennet is a sweet girl."

Or she was, the Colonel mused silently, feeling unaccountably irritated when he caught sight of Miss Bennet making faces at him from across the theatre in between the Italian arias, which she would unconsciously sing quietly along to, word for word.