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Chapter 13 ~ Homecoming
After Georgiana had directed her letter to be delivered with the utmost expedience, she joined Kitty in the music room where they practiced the duets they had promised Mr. Stirling and Mr. Douglas. Even with these worthy gentlemen in mind, neither girl's heart was truly in her song. Both knew it would be six hours at least before they could expect to see Mr. Darcy, yet so agitated were their spirits that they could not find peace in the music, and soon they gave it up. It seemed that every minute dragged into the next, and six o'clock was very far away.
Elizabeth noticed at teatime, when she came downstairs looking worn, that the young ladies were extremely restless. Neither of them could meet her eye.
"Jane, what do you think these young sisters can be up to?" she asked archly. "For do they not seem nervous?"
"The girls have been anxious all day, Lizzy, but I am sure it is due to their concern for you." replied unperturbed Jane, buttering a scone.
"I am not sure. Kitty, you look guilty, I think."
"No!" assured Kitty quickly, "It is what Jane says. We are worried for you."
"Georgiana? Is this all?"
Georgiana would not look at her, for she was indeed feeling a little guilt. But she felt sure she had done the best thing in writing to her brother, and she would not confess. "Truly, Elizabeth, it is all."
"Hmmm. Very well, I see you will not tell me, so I shall have to ask Mrs. Reynolds for the answer." Elizabeth questioned the housekeeper on what events had transpired among the ladies that morning, but Mrs. Reynolds pled that she was unaware of anything extraordinary. It was completely untrue; she knew whence Georgiana's letter had gone. But she, too, felt it was high time Master William came home again, and had allowed her young mistresses to swear her to secrecy.
"It is vexing," concluded Elizabeth, "very vexing indeed to be ill, for it seems I am bound to be kept a little ignorant of what goes on while I am indisposed." However, she received no further information, and had to let go of her investigation.
Elizabeth felt keenly for the rest of the afternoon that something was going to happen, though she knew not what. It was a hunch that unsettled her, and she left the tea table for the writing room, hoping to calm herself by assembling the replies she had received for the ball. It was a lengthy task- some three hundred fifty people meant to attend- but all throughout her business she remained disquieted. At five o'clock she laid aside the last of the replies, and allowed herself to wonder why on earth she felt such a strange and unfounded sense of anticipation.
The servants came in to light the candles for the evening, and Elizabeth noticed that Christine, a housemaid who had grown up a tenant on the Pemberley estate, was among them. The young maid had been useful in noticing things before, for she went all about the property to do her work, and Elizabeth wondered if she might be able to give some insight that the young ladies and Mrs. Reynolds had not.
"Christine, may I speak to you a moment?"
"Certainly, Mrs. Darcy!" The maid was at her side in a flash, curtseying prettily.
"Christine, I wonder. I was upstairs most of the morning... did you notice anything out of the ordinary today?"
Christine looked puzzled, and Elizabeth felt a little foolish. After all, it was only a fancy of her imagination. All this sickness and restless sorrow had made her needlessly suspicious, and she meant at once to retract her question. Christine, however, spoke first.
"Now that you mention it, Mrs. Darcy- Mr. Scott, your messenger ma'am, he took an express off in a terrible hurry this afternoon. I only noticed because since the physician had been here, I imagined it must be something concerning your health, ma'am."
Elizabeth was trembling, for she felt strangely sure she knew what had happened. She willed herself to remain calm. "Do you know," she asked steadily, "where Mr. Scott went so expressly?"
"To Glenstead, ma'am," replied the maid innocently. "I only know because I inquired after Mr. Craig, your butler, ma'am. I was anxious to know your state, you see, ma'am."
"What time did he go to Glenstead?" Elizabeth's voice was barely audible.
"At noon, ma'am. I only remember because the church bells at Lambton-"
Elizabeth stopped her. "Thank you, Christine. You are very kind to think of my health, and this is precisely the information I was wanting."
Christine blushed happily, honored to have been of particular help to the beloved mistress of Pemberley. "At your service, ma'am. Is there anything else, Mrs. Darcy?"
"No, thank you Christine." The maid departed in a state of pleased importance.
Elizabeth, however, was stunned. This could only mean one thing: Kitty and Georgiana had conspired to bring Mr. Darcy back to Pemberley. Shaking with indignation, she went at once to find them, stopping only to look at the clock. Five thirty! He would come- if he meant to come at all- at any moment!
She discovered the young ladies playing cards with Jane in the sitting room, and began, without warning, to exclaim loudly. "Girls! How could you even think it? I am so... angry! With both of you! What unbelievable presumption-"
Startled, Kitty dropped her cards, and Georgiana clapped her hands to her mouth. Only Jane was calm. "Lizzy, whatever is the matter? You know you must not over exert yourself."
"The matter!" Elizabeth was shouting. "These two-" she pointed with both her hands to Kitty and Georgiana- "have taken it upon themselves to write to Glenstead! And I am sure they have told William to come home. Oh, this is insufferable. I could scream!"
"You almost are," pointed out Kitty.
"Kitty, I warn you. One more word-"
"Lizzy! Lizzy, control yourself. You must sit. They would never do such a thing without asking you. You must be wrong. Georgiana, tell my sister she is wrong," entreated Jane.
Georgiana shook her head. "I wrote him." Lizzy gasped and shrieked all in one breath. "He gave me leave to write to him at once if I should see any need. And you have been so ill! He had to know it. I could not rest until I had informed him. You must not blame Kitty, for I did it all myself."
"I would never dream... you had no right." Elizabeth looked as though she would faint at any moment. "Young ladies, go upstairs. Right now, before I lose my temper entirely."
Kitty and Georgiana fled.
"Lizzy, my goodness, let me get you something-"
"No, Jane. Do you not see? I shall have to face him! What am I to do?"
"Do you not want Mr. Darcy, Lizzy?" asked Jane, very gently.
"Want him? Oh, Jane! How I have been aching for him." Lizzy sobbed. "But I did not want this. This is exactly what I hoped to avoid. I do not desire his pity for my condition. I wanted his free apology, his free forgiveness, unattached to any illness of mine! And now I shall never know if he came of his own volition or merely to appease me."
As Elizabeth spoke, Jane grew very pale, and her eyes fixed on the doorway behind her sister. "Lizzy," she said in a low, urgent tone, "Lizzy, stop."
"No, Jane! Oh, I cannot forgive them. And what if he should not come at all? Oh, I cannot bear it." She sobbed again. "I cannot bear one more day."
"Elizabeth." The voice behind her was unmistakable. Elizabeth's heart stopped in her chest.
"William." She kept her back to the door and looked helplessly at her sister. Jane rose, passed Lizzy a handkerchief, and went silently from the room, shutting the door for their privacy.
Elizabeth turned to her husband without employing the handkerchief at all, and they faced one another as equals, both wretches. Darcy was haggard; dark circles had trenched beneath his eyes, and though his posture was erect, every muscle seemed to hang limply on his frame.
Elizabeth, for her part, was pale and crying, but terribly resolute. "You have come because you thought me ill."
"Georgiana's letter frightened me. I cannot tell you how it made me feel."
"She was mistaken. I am well."
"Thank God." Darcy bowed his head.
It was all Elizabeth could do to master her emotion. "Was your decision to come back so suddenly based entirely on your fear for my health?"
"No." He looked at her pleadingly. "Elizabeth, I have been such a fool." In a strangled voice, Darcy told his wife of the letter he had seen, and the manner in which he had found it. He described what it had led him to think, how it had magnified his anger, and how he had wrestled with telling her. Finally, he gave her the details of Georgiana's letter, which had unknowingly acquitted Elizabeth of all he had believed her to have done. "I am so ashamed," he concluded quietly, "that I allowed my assumption to separate us in such a way. I was an idiot to let my faith in you be shaken. Were it not for that, I should have been home days ago- no- I never would have gone to begin with. Elizabeth, I do not deserve it, but I beg your forgiveness. I cannot live without you."
More genuine humility even Elizabeth could not have wanted. She no longer held herself back from him. In a moment she was in his arms, and both of them were lost in the tears that always accompany the healing of broken hearts.
When they could speak again, Elizabeth raised Jane's handkerchief to dry both their cheeks. "To say that I have missed you would be a laughable understatement," she told him. "I have been utterly at sea. Had you not come back today, I think I should have been at Glenstead by tomorrow."
He kissed her, and buried his face in her hair. "Wonderful woman," was all he could manage, for Mr. Darcy was finding it very difficult to recover himself, and after such a ride as he had just suffered, he was not soon willing to let go of his wife's embrace. It was a long moment before he could gather his voice.
"Elizabeth, tell me, are you perfectly well? I had expected to find you quite ill- though I am grateful it is not so. But Georgiana- I cannot believe she would fabricate something so serious. Tell me what is the matter."
Elizabeth led him to sit down, holding both his hands tightly. She felt her moment had come.
"Georgiana did tell you the truth- as she understood it. The physician was indeed here today, and I have been quite sick every morning for a week. But I am very well."
Darcy shook his head uncomprehendingly. "You confuse me. How can a person be sick and well at the same time?"
"It is simple," said Elizabeth, looking joyfully into her husband's eyes. "I am carrying our child."
Darcy's ecstatic cry, and the bliss with which he kissed his wife, can only be imagined.
* * *
Jane, Kitty and Georgiana went to supper alone together, as the Master and Mistress of Pemberley preferred to go upstairs at once after their ordeal. However, the couple sent a message along with Mrs. Reynolds before retiring, and the housekeeper appeared in the dining hall as the ladies were being served.
"Begging your pardon, Misses, but I am told to give you a word from the Master." The ladies encouraged her to speak directly. "I am sent to say," continued Mrs. Reynolds with a sly grin, "that Misses Georgiana and Kitty are thanked for their clever interference. And Mrs. Jane, your sister gives you leave to explain to the young ladies the nature of the illness that has kept them so worried."
"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds!" The housekeeper nodded merrily, and went out.
"Oh thank heavens everything is well again!" cried Georgiana, relieved to have been proven wise in her actions.
"Yes," chimed Kitty. "This is very good! Now Jane, since you may, tell us what is the matter with Lizzy. I knew it was something!"
Happily, Jane enlightened her young kin as to the real cause of the physician's visit. The dining hall erupted in cheers that made the servants smile and the glad sounds echoed through the halls of the finally reunited household.
Chapter 14 ~ Meanwhile at Longbourn
In addition to every other happiness, the young ladies presently received a second call from Mr. Stirling and Mr. Douglas, who arrived armed with water-color paints and inquired whether they might take miniatures of the ladies 'for the sake of practice'. This was a proposal that set two girlish hearts into flutters, and it was accepted that the ladies would 'allow them to do so'.
Mr. Darcy was sensible of the dramatic alteration in Kitty's behavior, and he congratulated Elizabeth, but she would take no credit; Georgiana had worked the change. Darcy also saw with delight that his own sister's manner was becoming daily more self-assured, and he wondered whether he had Kitty's influence to thank for this. His only present concern was with the character and history of Mr. Douglas, who was a stranger to him, but once Elizabeth had informed her husband of Douglas' position in the world and his connection to the Comghall portraits, Darcy made his new guest very welcome.
Let us not suppose that Mr. Darcy was so entirely reformed as to leave the young people unsupervised for a single moment of the visit. No indeed, for he would not have Georgiana courted by anyone without his entire approval, and it certainly seemed that to court her was Mr. Stirling's serious intention. Darcy sat with them therefore in the drawing room, and studied every move of the artists as they made their miniatures. It did not escape his attention that Mr. Douglas seemed to be nearly as intent on Kitty as Mr. Stirling was on Georgiana, and Darcy was surprised to feel his fatherish instincts extending themselves beyond his own sister, to include Miss Bennet's welfare.
There was nothing in the call to arouse any alarm in Mr. Darcy, however. In fact, he had grown by the end of it to feel approval for both young men, for they were courteous and unpretentious throughout the visit. Mr. Douglas painted skillfully, and often stopped in his own work to correct some error of his pupil's.
"Hold it there, Artie- no, lift the brush a bit- you see?" Mr. Stirling said he did, and vigorously went for more paint. "Ho there, too much- don' put it on the paper!"
It was too late. Georgiana's likeness now blushed in her cheeks as well as her nose, and a bit of her ear. Mr. Douglas was quick with a blotter, and the stain lifted easily while Mr. Stirling looked on with a sheepish grin. "I don't think I get on at all," he apologized. Miss Darcy laughed.
"I am sure it is fine. Let me see?"
"No!" He quickly shielded the image with a cupped hand. "Not yet. Let me fix it up a bit first- or let John do it." It was indeed Mr. Douglas who lay a blush tint to the little portrait, deftly concealing all errors.
"Now let it dry- don' touch it!" he ordered. Mr. Stirling sighed.
"I should have let you do both."
"Ah, hush up. You're a novice- supposed to make mistakes at this stage. I did!"
Mr. Stirling was indeed very much a beginner, and had it not been for his tutor's own hand in the painting of it, Georgiana's picture would have been a funny misrepresentation at best. As it was, Douglas had enough talent to manage both the miniatures, and when the paint had dried, each of the young ladies was able to cherish her own happy token of the 'lesson'.
"It's lovely!" Kitty exclaimed, when hers was cradled in her palm. "Although you have been too kind- my nose is not that nice."
"I disagree." Mr. Douglas looked at her quickly, and continued to rinse his brushes. "Artie, don' think I'm goin' to clean up after ya."
"Of course not!" replied Mr. Stirling, and fell at once to scrubbing a paint-laden brush against his blotter.
"Not like that! Now listen." And Mr. Douglas launched into a detailed lecture on the proper maintance of such supplies, which made the ladies smile.
"I imagine," teased Georgiana, "that it is easier for you to paint a great portrait by yourself, than it is to coax just a little one out of your friend, Mr. Douglas." She gave a warm smile to Mr. Stirling as she said this, and he rolled his eyes.
"Ah, no, Miss Darcy. This is much more pleasant."
"Then you do not enjoy painting grand portaits as much?" inquired Kitty, unable to keep from adding, "What of the one you did for the Newcastles? Was that not- pleasant?"
"They talked too much," grumbled Mr. Douglas. Everyone, even Mr. Darcy, chuckled at his candor. "Pardon me, I don' mean to be rude. It's only- well, paintin's so personal. I hate to have to do every commission that comes my way. It's like you said before, Miss Bennet. I'd rather do my own private paintin'."
"And have some other living to support you?"
"Aye."
"Such as what?" Mr. Darcy was intrigued. "If you could choose your living, Mr. Douglas, what would that be?"
Douglas sighed, and clapped his friend on the back. "Well, since I can't be a gentleman like Artie here," he laughed, "I'd be a clergyman. My father was, you know, and I would have loved- well, it's not an issue, really. I didn' have that education, or any proper education. I'm lucky I learned this," he gestured to his paints. "And grateful, too. I certainly can' complain."
Darcy gave the young man a long, thoughtful look, but said nothing more on the subject, and the two gentlemen departed not long after that.
Relieved of his chaperoning duties, Mr. Darcy immediately went to attend Elizabeth, (who was ill again all morning, though it no longer disturbed anyone,) leaving Kitty and Georgiana to count the replies for the ball, and discuss who they would have as partners if they could choose for each set. In short, it was a very agreeable day, foretelling no disquietude whatsoever, and no one at Pemberley had any reason to anticipate disaster.
* * *
"Lord, it is fine to be home! Mama, where are you? Matthews, give me back my purse, for I am sure I am not going to pay you. Papa must take care of it all, for he is the man. Mama! Come out and see your favourite daughter!"
Mrs. Lydia Wickham arrived at Longbourn in a driving sleet that did nothing to damp her energy. She broke through the front door, dripping mud and ice, laughing as she left a watermark in the front hall.
"Mama!" she shouted, throwing her cape at Hill and shaking her boots with no regard for the walls or carpets. "Lord, it is cold! What a laugh I have had at the driver! I must come in out of the stupid rain. Mama!"
"Lydia!" cried Mrs. Bennet, hurrying downstairs to her youngest daughter. "My darling Lydia! I did not expect you home!" Mrs. Bennet fluttered about the entryway, loath to get herself wet, but thrilled to have company at last. "Longbourn has been insufferable without you, daughter, I assure you. Oh, my dear, dear child!"
"Somebody must pay that man, Matthews," she ordered casually, gesturing to the person behind her, who was quite drenched.
"You are welcome to it sir, for you bring my own dear girl back to me at last! But you shall have to wait a moment. My husband will take care of you. Oh, Lydia, you are home!"
"Well I am not come to stay, I am sure. I am only here for a visit." She slammed the door unceremoniously in Matthews' face, and proceeded to unlace her boots.
"And where, may I ask, is your husband?" asked her father sternly, arriving on the scene with alacrity to assess the damages. From within his study, Mr. Bennet had heard the telltale noise of his daughter, and he felt a terror in his chest. After all the trouble she had caused, Mrs. Wickham was hardly welcome to him under the best of circumstances. And yet, here she was, flinging wet dirt about her, having given them no notice whatever of her arrival. Mr. Bennet sighed. The children he valued were gone, and the one whom he especially could not tolerate was home again.
"My husband is in London, Papa. Lord, you do not look happy to see me! Never mind, for I shall cheer you up while I am here. My dear Wickham set out for a new occupation, for we are out of money. I decided to come home while he looks for another place to settle, and I declare I am very glad to move from _______shire! What an insipid place that was! In any case, Wicky is so good, he set me up with a carriage home. And here I am!"
"He set you up with a carriage, but gave you nothing with which to pay for it."
"I am sure you can pay it; you have hardly any daughters to look after anymore, so I know you have money." Mr. Bennet did pay the poor driver, who stalked back to his coach in a snit, after having stood outside the door in the sleet for ten minutes. Lydia, feeling she had explained herself nicely, proceeded to make herself at home.
"What do you think you are doing?" asked her father. "You are no longer living here, Mrs. Wickham. You are a guest, and a short-lived one at that. After you are dry, we shall call you another carriage directly, and you shall join your husband. I won't have you imposing yourself here whenever you feel the urge."
"Nonsense!" cried Mrs. Bennet, "You shall stay here! Do not listen to your father. It is your house; how could you impose? Lord knows we have room, when it is only your father and I. Oh, and Mary too, but that is nothing."
"What? Where is Kitty?" demanded Lydia. "Has she run off and got married at last? What a laugh! Why did no one tell me?"
"No one told you of Kitty's wedding, Lydia, because she is not silly enough to run off and get married without telling her sisters, and is therefore still a single woman." replied Mr. Bennet thinly.
"Poor girl!" sighed his wife. "It is true. She is unmarried. But now she is at Pemberley she will fall in the way of some rich man or other."
"Pemberley!" Lydia was shocked. "Well that sounds very nice. I wonder I was not invited."
"I wonder at your wonder, Mrs. Wickham."
"Oh, Papa, you are so stiff. Get me a bath, Hill, so I do not freeze and die- go on!- and then we shall all have a nice dinner! Lord, I'm so hungry!" Lydia flounced wetly up the stairs to her bath, just missing Mary, who came into the hall carrying a stack of novels.
"Is that Lydia?"
"I am afraid so," said her father.
"Where is her husband?" said Miss Bennet, appalled that her sister should travel singly, and in such weather.
"In London!" snapped her mother. "Oh, Mary, do not look so condescendingly. I am sure, if anyone ever marries you, you may do just as you please. Until then, you may have no opinion on the subject."
Mary looked down her nose at her mother, and hoisted her books more tightly in her arms. "Well, Papa, if you like, I shall play you a song or two. I know music will make you feel better about it." Mary loved to sing for people, and made opportunities to do so whenever she could. But her father had no patience for the nasality of her voice or the severity of her playing, and so he avoided these offers as best he could.
"Rest easy, Mary. I do not think it will help me to hear you. If I cannot turn Lydia out, I shall have no pleasure in anything."
Mary nodded, agreeing with her father that Lydia's arrival was a most unwelcome event, and went anyway to the pianoforte, where she imagined she would cheer them all with a long and pious dirge. Her parents fled to opposite ends of the house, but she continued loudly for another hour, audience enough for herself.
Two hours later, the small gathering of Bennets assembled for dinner. Lydia and Mrs. Bennet were in high spirits to be reunited, and entered at once into a long, exclusive gossip.
"So Kitty is gone to Pemberley!"
"Oh yes, Lydia. Lizzy invited her to be the particular friend of Miss Darcy, and she is there the whole winter. If she does not come back married, I shall say it is all for nothing! For I cannot tell you how dull this house has been."
Lydia laughed at her mother's distress. "I am sure you go to Netherfield often enough to get relief; it is only three miles off. If it is fine tomorrow, I shall surprise the Bingleys with my being in town, and you must come, too! Will not that be droll?"
"That is an outing I strongly encourage, Lydia," said Mr. Bennet seriously. "What time would you have me bring the carriage 'round?"
Lydia was too silly to be suspicious of her father's sudden interest. "Well! I think we shall go after lunch," she decided. "Lord, what a shock she shall get!"
Mrs. Bennet howled. "Your father is a cruel man, Lydia! He teases you most viciously. For Jane and Bingley are gone from Netherfield House forever!" Mrs. Bennet waved her handkerchief back and forth over her face as if the little air she created by doing so would prevent her from fainting dead away.
"What?" Lydia cried. "Where did they go?"
"To a house called Glenstead in Nottinghamshire-- to be near Lizzy, says Jane. And I am sure I am never to be happy again, with no grateful children to take care of me in my old age!"
"I am here, Mama," reminded Mary stiffly.
"That is hardly very comforting," snorted Lydia. "Nottinghamshire? Are they very close to Pemberley?"
"Within thirty miles of it. I am so vexed that she is gone! Well, she and Lizzy are very selfish creatures, and I shall die all alone with no one to ease my suffering!"
"Well then, that is settled, Mrs. Bennet, and I think it a very good plan." Mr. Bennet looked pointedly at his youngest daughter. "Tell me, Lydia, how long do you plan to remain here?" He hated to ask the question, for he feared the worst in the answer.
"I should imagine a month will do the trick. Wickham has promised to find us an income by Christmas. He says I am to have a new gown for a present! Is not that nice?" She and her mother exchanged little squeals over the prospect of gowns. "Pass me those peas, Mary."
Mr. Bennet shook his head. "Mr. Wickham shall have to manage an income sooner than that. We are leaving Longbourn on the eighteenth of December, and you shall have to go as well."
"I shall just stay here, then."
"No, Lydia. I will not have you unchaperoned for a week in this house."
"I can do such things now, you know, Papa. I am a married lady, and may go as I please without being chaperoned."
"You do not have enough sense to be left by yourself. If you wish to be alone, you must find a home for yourself."
Lydia stamped her foot, but knew it was no use. This was her father's most decisive tone. "Very well then, where are you going?"
"To Pemberley," confided her mother in an excited whisper. "Do you not know about it? Lizzy is throwing an enormous ball, and we are going to stay a long week-end with her!"
Lydia slammed down her knife. "Well this is a fine thing! No one tells me anything anymore; Kitty is gone, Jane moved away, and Lizzy having a ball without inviting me. I dare say I shall go with you," she challenged.
"That you shall not." Mr. Bennet was very firm. "I shall not be responsible for bringing you where you are not invited."
"Oh, Lord, what is that to me?" cried Lydia. "I am sure I only missed the invitation in passing."
"There is no room for you, Lydia. We are to bring Maria Lucas with us for the weekend, and I shall not be able to oblige you, no matter what you say."
"How can you take that mousy little thing and leave me? I am your daughter!"
Mrs. Bennet agreed with this. "It is true! I should so much rather have you than Maria- that girl! She should go to her sister Charlotte if she wants to travel, for I am sure I do not want her!"
"You see, Papa?"
"I do. You and your mother are going to be contrary. Very well, so am I. You may not come, and that is an end to it."
"Oh is it? Well then I shall write to Lizzy and tell her I am to come, too. If she says I may you will not dare count me out! Oh, there will be such gentlemen there!"
"How can that make a difference to you?" asked Mary, scandalized. "You are married!"
"Yes, I am! Jealous, aren't you, Mary? Well, I am sure we can get you married, too, if only we can find someone whose eyes are very bad."
"That is enough, Lydia. Go on, write to Lizzy. And if she says you may come, I shall eat my cravat."
"Do not listen to him! He is a hard man," accused Mrs. Bennet. "Write to her at once, Lydia. For I am sure she cannot turn away her sister. And then we will not have room for Maria Lucas, which is fine with me."
"That is just what I think. Very well, I am excused." Lydia pushed back her chair and went away to the desk she had once shared with Kitty. A ball at Pemberley! It would be just the thing. She longed to see the great houses of her sisters, and perhaps they could set her up with a little money. (This was an ungrateful thought, considering that both Jane and Lizzy, through prudently reserving part of their own private expenses, had often sent her financial relief.) She was tired of being poor, from traveling shabbily and from moving so often, for this was the third time her husband's debts had forced them to relocate.
Mrs. Wickham was no longer as innocently silly as she had once been in her feelings. Though she remained reckless and unintelligent, she was sharpened by her recent experiences. She had eloped with a man who drank, gambled, and had no real sense of responsibility to her at all. It had not taken her long to fall out of love with her husband for she had never truly loved him to begin with. Her regard for him had been built only on the basest feelings, and his attachment had never been strong at all- no; Mr. Wickham had been bought into marrying her. The mutual attractions that had led them to that impasse had hardly lasted a twelvemonth. Lydia was flirtatious as ever, Wickham as dissolute. Indeed, they did not mind the time away from each other, for it left them room in which to trifle with other hearts.
There is nothing so attractive to a character such as Lydia's as a large party of people in which to frolic, and Lydia was determined to show up and have a merry fling. All she needed was a bit of paper, and the whole business would be settled very nicely, for it truly did not occur to her that Elizabeth might say her nay. She shuffled through the old desk, looking for the utensils she required, and her eye fell on a large, ornate, blue seal bearing the letter 'D', which was tucked among Kitty's correspondence.
"That must be 'Darcy'. Well, let us see about it!" She had no compunction about opening the note, which was clearly marked 'Kitty' in Lizzy's writing, for it looked very interesting to her. What did it signify who the note belonged to? She read it with a clear conscience, or perhaps, as was more likely, no conscience at all.
Lydia did feel an emotion when she came halfway through the note, but it was not remorse for her actions.
"You are aware that I have very particular feelings about Lydia and her husband. In short, I never mention them at Pemberley. It is as if they are not relations at all."
Lydia stared. This was a stunning thing to find. She read the rest of the note, her whole face agape.
"I must enlist your support on this matter. You are aware, I think, that Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy were connected as children and parted badly. This has had its effect on both my husband and his sister, and old wounds need not be re-opened.
I need to know that you will not discuss Lydia with Miss Darcy. I need to know especially that you will never, never mention George Wickham's name before any of the household..."
When Lydia had satisfied her macabre curiosity by reading this letter several times over, she put it in her pocket and laughed out loud. Anyone else might have cried, or felt ashamed, but Lydia Wickham only laughed. To be sure, it was a chilling little laugh, a laugh that spoke volumes of her heart. So this was Lizzy's opinion of her? What a joke! And she would have a joke of her own in return.
I should think this letter gives me the right to do what I like, for it has hurt my feelings excruciatingly! I dare say I shall go to the ball, for there is nothing I should like half so much as that. Will it not be cunning to surprise them? Lord! The looks on their faces will be so droll! I can hardly wait. What shall I wear?
These were the impenitent thoughts of Lydia Wickham, after prying through her sister's personal belongings. She had only herself to blame for the pain she suffered upon reading the letter, yet she intended to gain restitution. Lizzy may think she had cut her sister off from the fine life she led, but she was much mistaken. Lydia, who almost always got what she went after, was now seriously intent on going to the ball. How she would manage it was a mystery, but she did not care. She knew a plan would come to her- good schemes were her particular talent. Mrs. Wickham therefore went gaily down the stairs to rejoin her family, entertaining herself with wayward thoughts of what she would do when she arrived at Pemberley.
Chapter 15 ~ Ardor All Around
It was the first of December, a little snow was on the ground, and a party of young people was playing a rousing game of charades in the sitting room of Pemberley. A great fire roared nearby as Kitty, Georgiana, Clarissa Campbell and Arthur Stirling made themselves very merry together.
"Bravo! Well done, Miss Bennet," praised Miss Campbell, resuming her seat. "Take your turn, and make it a good one."
Kitty got up before her friends and only thought a moment before holding up one finger.
"One word!" asserted Mr. Stirling.
She nodded, and patted three fingers on her upper arm.
"Three syllables- first syllable!" chimed Georgiana.
Kitty pulled her ear.
"Sounds like..."
She pretended to sniff at a funny odor.
"Foul!" "Nose!" "Smell!"
Kitty nodded enthusiastically at the last, and they began to guess at words.
"Dell!" "Knell!" "It is 'well'!"
Kitty shook her head, then frantically mimed picking up a small object in her thumb and forefinger, and ringing it back and forth.
"Bell!" shouted Miss Campbell excitedly. Kitty beamed. "Third syllable- small word. All right, 'of''?"
"The!" guessed Stirling.
"A?" volunteered Georgiana. Kitty nodded vigorously. "I know! 'Belinda'?"
"Hurrah!" sighed Kitty, falling into a chair after her successful exertion.
"Beautifully done," commented Stirling. "It is up to you now, Miss Darcy. Confound us!"
"I can never think of anything to do," complained Georgiana. Mr. Stirling took the opportunity of her indecision to whisper an idea into her ear that she might use. She blushed furiously at the feeling of the whisper, his breath so close, and also at the meaning of his suggested charade.
"I say, that is unfair, Mr. Stirling," contradicted Miss Campbell lightly. "Now you shall have the advantage."
"I shall not guess! It is a ladies' competition."
"Ladies do not compete, Mr. Stirling!" said Kitty, pretending to be affronted.
"Oh, no?"
"Certainly not," agreed Elizabeth, who watched the game from across the room, busying herself with sewing. "We vie."
"A ha! Well then, vie for the answer, delicate ladies."
The game began again with three words, the first word having two syllables, and the first syllable shown by Georgiana's acting out of a little rowboat. After further clues, it was quickly guessed that the answer was 'Romeo and Juliet', but as Kitty and Miss Campbell chorused their answer together, the game was declared a tie. Mr. Stirling was obliged to part with the fair ones soon after that, and they fell at once to teasing Georgiana.
"'Romeo and Juliet'? My, my," was Miss Campbell's comment.
"Very easily acted, too," said sly Kitty.
Even Elizabeth did not spare her. "An appropriate suggestion," she laughed. "From the hero to the heroine. Tell us we should not expect a tragic ending, Georgiana."
"Enough! Oh, stop!" Georgiana was pink, but smiling profusely, for Mr. Stirling did make her feel like a most romantic heroine. She looked at Kitty defiantly. "Perhaps if someone else were here, I might suggest 'Macbeth' for you!"
"The Scottish Play! Oh, I love it. It is so dramatic, and the Lady so cruel," Miss Campbell shivered. "But who would suggest such a thing? Surely you are not in league with the murderers of kings, Miss Bennet?"
Kitty made a face at Georgiana and replied regally, "She refers to our friend Mr. Douglas."
"What is Mr. Douglas? Prince or Earl?"
"Scotsman and artist," replied Georgiana. "And he has painted Kitty's miniature."
"Oh, let me see!" Kitty, blushing as much as ever Georgiana had done, retrieved it from her reticule, where she had clipped it into a little frame. "Oh, it is fine! Truly, he is very talented," admired Miss Campbell. "Where is he today? Why is he not among your little throng of callers?"
Alas, Kitty sighed, he had gone to ______shire to paint a family portrait, for he had to follow his commissions wherever they led. She had not seen him for several days at least.
"But he will come to the ball, your 'Macbeth'?"
Kitty said she hoped so, and then proceeded to turn the investigation about on the inquisitor. "And might we suggest a play for your charade, Miss Campbell?"
The lady laughed. "That play does not exist, and I doubt it will ever be written; for what good to the theatre is a sheaf of blank parchment?"
The others groaned. "So there are no young men worth your notice?" challenged Kitty.
"I do not mean to say that, for some gentlemen are very worthy- indeed, one such example has just quitted us. Will you not agree, Miss Darcy?"
"Ahem." Miss Darcy deigned not to reply.
"No, girls, my play is very short," continued Miss Campbell presently; "I do not seem to be destined for love like you young things."
"You are but two and twenty- do not pretend to be so old," scolded Kitty.
"I am old in spirit, then."
"Oh, come," called Lizzy to the star-crossed lady, "I can tell you from experience that one can never be too sure about love. It is a mysterious business. It sneaks up at odd moments."
"Then I might expect it at any time," rejoined Miss Campbell saucily. "There, I am comforted. Shall we play at cards together?"
"Together?" mused Georgiana. "Why, by your account, your only card game would be Patience." The ladies set up for a round of whist, however, Kitty naming Lizzy as her partner. They had just called hearts when their butler appeared at the door.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam is arrived, Madam."
The next man through the door was the young Colonel himself, ruddy from the cold, resplendent in his uniform, his light eyes dancing. "Mrs. Darcy! Georgiana!" Happy welcomes met the Colonel from his cousin's wife and his little charge.
"We did not expect you until dinner, Geoffrey!" Georgiana exclaimed.
"Very well; I shall go away and come back when I am wanted," he teased, pretending to leave them.
"Oh, no- stay! Meet my friends. Catherine Bennet, Clarissa Campbell, this is my other guardian, Colonel Fitzwilliam." He bowed; the ladies curtseyed.
"I remember you, Miss Bennet. Did we not meet at the Darcys' wedding?"
"I am sure we did. I am glad to see you, Colonel."
"You may take that back once we have occupied the same house for a month, but I will try to be very good," he said seriously, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"You? The chances of that are slim indeed," laughed Elizabeth.
"And Miss Campbell... the Campbell-Stocks, is it not? At Genesee Court? I know you." He peered at her closely, and Miss Campbell met his gaze with a clear look of her own.
"Those are my parents," she affirmed. "But I do not remember meeting you, Colonel."
"Yes, well, you were very young, I think." He still looked at her. "My cousin and I visited your home once when I was in Derbyshire years ago. I see it is a pity I have not been back since. I hope all your family is in health?"
Miss Campbell was not sure what she perceived in his manner, but thought she detected flirtation, and was determined to stamp it out. "They are, I thank you. And I am pleased to meet you again, since you say it is not the first time," she said wryly.
"I'm afraid I make a very weak impression."
"Do not think so- blame my bad memory. There, I have taken a note on you, and I will not forget again. But I think I must be trespassing on your reunion?" Though heartily assured she was not, Miss Campbell found occasion to leave them very soon after that, seeming mildly agitated.
"I see I am frightening off your callers already, Georgiana," sighed the Colonel, looking after their friend for a moment before turning merrily back to his young cousin. "Perhaps you will forgive me though. Would you come with me to find your brother?" Georgiana gladly agreed, and the two set off to search out William.
"Well, Kitty," said Lizzy, when they were alone together, "I am impressed. I remember a time when you would have lost your composure entirely, in the presence of a red coat."
Kitty shrugged. "I remember, too. And he is very handsome. But lately I am not..." she trailed off.
Elizabeth nodded. "Kitty, may I see your miniature? I have not ever had a good look at Mr. Douglas' artwork." Kitty procured the little portrait for her sister, who studied it thoughtfully. "He is certainly an excellent artist- very much like his master," she remarked. "He has captured you exactly." She paused and looked at her sister. "He sees how lovely you are, Kitty."
"I am sure he flatters me," faltered Kitty, unsure of what to do with this praise.
"No, dear; you are this lovely. But even if it were flattery, this is how he sees you." Elizabeth's voice was gentle. "I think you miss his company?"
"I.... I am unsure what I feel." Kitty sat and took the picture back again, looking at it with feeling. "I admit I am confused."
"Mr. Douglas seems to think highly of you."
"Does he?"
"We all noticed it- Jane, Mr. Darcy, and myself."
"What is your opinion of him, Lizzy?" Kitty's voice was small.
"I like him. He is honest and hard working, and I dare say handsome, too. But it is your opinion I am after."
"Truly, I do not know myself," admitted Kitty. "I have always felt so differently with all the soldiers, and with Lydia. I was so excited- do you remember how I used to behave in Meryton? I jumped up and down and screamed and had a marvelous time- even if it was indiscreet," she added, seeing Elizabeth's look turn wayward. "Now I feel... it is like.... it is like being sad," she concluded, not knowing how to express it any better. "I have not seen him these twelve days"- Elizabeth smiled at the accuracy of the count- "and yet he keeps himself in my thoughts. Is not that strange?"
"Not at all strange," replied Elizabeth, kissing her sister affectionately. She felt they had done enough talking on this subject at present; her sister was coming to an understanding of her own emotions, and that was very good. She went off to find the rest of the family, and left Kitty alone to contemplate her heart.
* * *
The next afternoon found all the young ladies of the neighborhood enjoying a tea party at Kirkfield Park, the cozy estate of the Morrison Family. Sir Michael and Lady Geraldine were the kind of adults who were finely attuned to the desires of their children, for they remembered the excitement of their own youths quite well. They therefore desired to provide their daughters and the rest of the girls with a whole afternoon in which the conversation could be pleasantly devoted to the ball at Pemberley, and the Miss Morrisons invited all their closest acquaintance for the revelry. Of course, there was one in their company that they would rather have done without. But Lady Morrison would not allow her daughters to purposefully ignore anyone- ("Be always a lady, no matter how painful" was her favorite maxim,) and so it was necessary to admit Felicity Newcastle into the arrangements.
Despite this social inconvenience, it was a very pleasant tea, and soon the gathering made its way to the sitting room, where everybody was settled comfortably in a circle suitable for discourse. Their discussion began with what dances were planned, and of course this made all the ladies think of what partners they would like, though no one would be the first to speak of it. That rich subject was broached by accident in a moment, however, thanks to the intrusion of one potential partner.
The young Mr. Michael broke into the room, silencing the ladies' chat with his male presence. He quickly retrieved the item he had come for, feeling very awkward that everyone was so mute. Shy Mr. Morrison hurried from the company of so many ladies without offering a word himself, and when he had gone, the first sound was an admiring sigh, emitted quietly by Miss Augusta Stamp.
"Oh, heavens!" cried Miss Sarah, poking Miss Stamp playfully. "Was that little breath for my brother?"
"Oh no," protested the curvy lady, her round cheeks coloring prettily. "I believe my corset is just a bit snug, that is all." She adjusted her dress as if to prove her story.
"Not snug enough, in my opinion," sniggered Miss Newcastle in a whisper to Kitty. Luckily, Miss Stamp did not hear this offensive remark, but Kitty blanched indignantly for her new friend. She was prevented from forming a retort, however, for Miss Stamp's unconscious confession had broken the ice, and now all the young ladies commenced to quiz each other on which were the preferred gentlemen among them.
Some ladies, however, chose to refrain from the din. Neither Georgiana, nor Kitty, nor Miss Campbell, could be prevailed upon to name any favourites.
"Oh come, Miss Darcy," coaxed Persis Radke, "I am sure you will stand up with Mr. Stirling?"
"Yes," agreed Miss Sarah, "for you seemed quite content to be his dinner partner last month. And I wager he has been to Pemberley to pay a call."
"Mr. Stirling is an attractive youth; I dare say I shall dance with him," asserted Miss Newcastle. Georgiana stiffened. "I certainly hope he is as graceful as he seems. It is so hard to be in the country! There are so few really polished men. I hate the off-season. Last spring in Bath, I was at a ball nearly every night. One ball in a whole winter seems nothing at all, to me."
"That is what makes it all the more enjoyable," observed Miss Campbell warmly to Georgiana, saving her cold stare for Miss Newcastle. "One ball in the country is an event of significance, while fifty in the city become commonplace."
Georgiana looked at her friend gratefully, but Miss Newcastle was oblivious to the meaning of this comment, and marched onward in her opinions.
"Indeed, you understand me completely, Miss Campbell. The parties become absolutely tedious after the first twenty, especially when one is solicited for every set! I declare; Felix and I never sat down the whole season! I only hope Mr. Stirling will be equal to me- or that any gentleman will, for that matter." Every girl held in a groan, but Felicity was insensible of this. "You were in London last season, Miss Campbell?"
"I was."
"Then you do know what I mean. But this was your third season out, was it not?"
Miss Campbell set her teeth. "It was my fourth."
"You had best be prudent, then," advised Miss Newcastle superciliously. "My mama has made me aware of such things; young ladies out more than three seasons should catch as they can."
"Do you mean to imply," said Miss Campbell with remarkable evenness, "That another season will make me an old maid?"
"My word!" Felicity was shocked. "What a thing to accuse me of! I am merely trying to help you, to remind you that you are obliged to marry as soon as may be. We girls must always rally around one another, you know."
Kitty was reminded of her mother by this silly outburst, and it amused her to realize that Miss Newcastle was just the same sort of woman, with only a thin disguise of manners over her thoughtless character. She was dismayed, therefore, to become the next target of Miss Newcastle's presumptions.
"Well, even if Miss Bennet will not answer us, we all know which gentleman she prefers," said the lady, conspiratorially. "Miss Bennet, can you deny that you are engaged for the first two dances?"
Kitty shook her head morosely that she could not.
"Ah, fortunate girl! My brother has solicited her. He was much taken with you last you met," divulged Miss Newcastle. "You will be quite spoiled, to arrive in the neighborhood and secure the most charming man at once! You shall be the only one among us with the pleasure of a really accomplished dance partner, Miss Bennet."
"I wonder you do not stand up with your brother yourself. You seem to be the only two deserving of one another," observed the elder Miss Morrison dryly.
There was choked laugher all around, and "Oh, Josie!" cried her Miss Sarah to her sister. Miss Newcastle perceived that something in this was not quite flattering, and drew herself up haughtily.
"I would stand up with him I were any of you. But as I cannot, I suppose I shall be made to suffer at the hands of novices all evening."
No girl could hold back her laughter at this outrageous display of conceit, and the circle was all in fits of mirth. Miss Newcastle regarded them stiffly. She had a choice: either to be affronted by the mockery, or to suppose herself to have made a very clever joke. The second idea was much more agreeable, and she managed to laugh along in her false way, though she resolved to be involved no further in the conversation of such uncivilized company.
"Well done!" howled Miss Sarah, wiping her eyes. "I think we have all spoken who mean to speak. It remains to be seen whether we shall all dance with the partners we have named."
"Oh, but you have left out a gentleman," Kitty informed them.
"Have we?" "Who?" "I think we have said them all!" A murmur went all 'round.
Georgiana, who almost expected Kitty to daringly reveal an attachment to Mr. Douglas, was surprised to hear her say, "Colonel Geoffrey Fitzwilliam."
"A soldier! Who is he?" breathed Ivy Radke.
"He is one of my guardians," said Georgiana. "You will meet him. He is staying with us at Pemberley on his leave."
"Is he handsome?" "Will he dance?" and "How tall is he?" was Miss Morrison's question.
"Yes; yes; and he is quite tall," laughed Georgiana. "But as I am a sister to him, I can hardly describe him in the way you all would like to hear. Ask Miss Campbell for an objective account; she has met him."
Miss Campbell gave a startled look at Georgiana.
"What manner of gentleman is he, Miss Campbell?" demanded Miss Sarah. They all looked at her expectantly.
"He is..." Miss Clarissa was lost for words. "Well, what did Georgiana tell you? He is tall, he looks well, and he has...." She was stumped again. "I only met him for a moment," was her final reply.
"I dare say," guessed Miss Stout with a crafty smile, "that we have found her out!" Miss Campbell turned her head and would not answer as the raillery about Colonel Fitzwilliam began to rain down upon her.
Kitty and Georgiana glanced at each other. This was an interesting thing! They had not counted on this accidental discovery, and were both inclined to fan the fire of it; however, Miss Campbell needed their assistance. Kitty defended her from further commentary, making it known that "truly, the meeting between the Colonel and Miss Campbell lasted but a moment," while Georgiana declared that her guardian was "a decided old bachelor" who defied flirtations.
Miss Morrison finally reined them in. "All right; no more teasing my guests," she admonished. "After all, I would prefer it if the Colonel remained unattached, especially if he is of a good height!" Everyone laughed, and Miss Campbell was let off the hook as the party disbanded.
But Georgiana and Kitty had an idea that it might be very nice to take up matchmaking. Their ride home was spent in going over the events of the evening, openly despising the Newcastles, and attempting to devise schemes that could bring the Colonel together with Miss Campbell.
Chapter 16 ~ A Sudden Divide
Having very little practice in the art of making couples, Kitty and Georgiana were unsure of how to proceed with their latest enterprise. They resolved to pay a call to Miss Campbell in the morning, to see if they could discover anything further about her feelings for the Colonel, imagining that such a visit would inspire all manner of very good plans. After breakfasting, they spent an hour in music together, and were just coming out to leave for Genesee Court at eleven o'clock, when Colonel Fitzwilliam arrested them.
"And just where do you think you are off to?" he asked them, affecting a paternal tone and blocking their path into the hall.
"We are going calling," replied Georgiana, nimbly side-stepping him.
"To see Miss Campbell," added Kitty pointedly. "Perhaps you would like to come, Colonel?"
"I would, at that," replied Fitzwilliam warmly, and the girls felt that their scheme would be much simpler than they had anticipated. "However," he continued, "I think your plans for the morning have been thwarted."
"Thwarted?" repeated Georgiana guiltily, for she thought he must have guessed their intentions.
"You ladies have been too slow on the uptake. There are already callers upon you. Ah, the difficulties of being so admired!" he teased them.
"Who is here, Geoffrey?"
"I shall describe them, and you must guess. First, there is a gentleman who desires to see you, cousin."
Georgiana lowered her eyes, and Kitty made a face. "I think we may safely guess who that is."
"Not so fast, Miss Bennet, for there is a lad inquiring madly after you, as well."
Now it was Kitty's turn to be bashful. Mr. Douglas! He must have returned!
"Finally, there is a lady who demands to see you both. Now then, have you guessed?"
The girls knew it must be Miss Campbell, and they raised eyebrows at each other. It did not signify whether they came to her, or she to them; it would all serve the same merry purpose. They rushed to greet their callers in the drawing room, already imagining all the pleasures the day held in store for them.
Imagine their dismay when they were met with only one person out of three whom they had anticipated. Mr. Stirling was there, of course, and greeted them both with the friendly affection he had earned. The other two callers in the group dampened the enthusiasm of the ladies' responses, however. Mr. Newcastle was the gentleman who inquired after Kitty; and his sister was the lady who had been demanding to see them.
This would only have been a momentary irritation, if Kitty had not been so looking forward to the return of Mr. Douglas. When she had thought for a moment that the dear gentleman might be there, a flush of happiness had run from her head to her toes. And for this to be the realization of that expectation? It tore her spirits down miserably. To have to endure Felix Newcastle's attentions would take all her new stamina as a lady. She was not sure whether it could be borne, and clenched her fists behind her back.
Georgiana looked at her friend with deep compassion. The pleasure she felt in the company of Mr. Stirling only increased her sympathy, for Miss Darcy was the kind of person who could not feel a happiness without wishing it for her friends as well. She knew that Kitty would be thinking of Mr. Douglas and wishing he were here in place of Mr. Newcastle; indeed, Georgiana herself wished for that substitution. She also saw that her sister was pained, and that she was taking prodigious care not to reveal it.
"Dear Miss Bennet!" effused Miss Newcastle, embracing the lady with zeal as the young people greeted one another. "How lovely you look this morning. Brother, does not that plum color set off her cheeks? I declare, you must have expected us, to have dressed up in such a charming way!"
"Not at all," Kitty objected, wishing Miss Newcastle would shut up and go home. Mr. Newcastle would be much more simply handled without his sister present. She did not want their compliments, and moved to prevent any further; "We were planning to make a call, and dressed for that occasion only."
"A call? Well we have beat you to it. But you shall come to us another time. Yes; I dare say you shall spend a great many hours in our house, Miss Bennet," said Miss Newcastle suggestively.
"I say, speaking of spending too many hours inside of houses, what do you all say to a walk?" asked Mr. Stirling brightly.
"I'd love a walk." Kitty gave Mr. Stirling a look of appreciation.
"How lovely," agreed Georgiana. "Let us wrap up and go outside."
"Outside?" protested Mr. Newcastle in disbelief. "But there is snow on the ground! Surely you ladies do not mean to go out walking in this freezing air."
"It is beautiful! Crisp and cold!" was Kitty's decided opinion.
"Cold and tedious," was the young man's reply, looking out the window in distaste.
"I cannot wish it either. No, we shall stay in and devise some comfortable entertainment," decided Miss Newcastle, looking at her slippers and thinking how ill suited they were for snow, and how she hated to don her boots with this particular gown.
Georgiana was distressed. She could not refuse her callers if they truly were set against the outdoors. It was purely bad manners to force them on a walk if they desired not to go. However, she thought, was it not impolite for them to impose their needs so ungraciously, without considering the others? Besides, the others made up the majority; it was three against two. Georgiana made a brave decision, and when she spoke, there was sparkle in her tone.
"Oh, I think you will love it once we are outside in the fresh air. Kitty and I quite depended on being out this morning, and we shall not be gainsaid. I shall give you boots if you need them, Miss Newcastle. And to be fair, when we return from the exercise, we shall find, as you put it, a more 'comfortable entertainment'." Georgiana felt her heart beating strangely. She had been so used to accommodating people that this was a foreign kind of behavior. But it felt absolutely brilliant! She made up her mind to try it again soon.
Mr. Stirling looked at her admiringly. "Now we shall have to go, for we cannot deny our hostess! Go and get your wraps, ladies, and then we shall brave the day together."
Happily, the sisters went to find their coats and shawls. Unhappily, Miss Newcastle retrieved her boots from the carriage and put them on. When they were all one, the party set off through the park of Pemberley for a long ramble, and immediately upon walking out, the Newcastles flanked Kitty. Georgiana would have prevented this if there were any way of doing so without being openly rude, but Felix and Felicity were entirely unaware of the hints she made about walking all together, and she was soon forced to give up. With a concerned glance at Kitty's glum countenance, Georgiana fell back on the path with Mr. Stirling, hoping her friend could keep her temper, and deciding she would not blame her at all, if she could not.
"Are you all prepared for the ball, Miss Bennet?" was Miss Newcastle's opening question. "Have you your gown, and has everything been arranged?"
"Everything is coming together very nicely; thank you for asking."
"I imagine the first dance will be a minuet?"
"That is the usual order of things." Kitty looked impatiently backward at Georgiana, but her friend was engaged in a serious talk with Mr. Stirling.
"I happen to be quite inspired at dancing the minuet," Mr. Newcastle informed her. "We shall lead them all off in style!"
"I believe we will be second; Georgiana will certainly lead out, for she is the hostess."
"Yes; dear Miss Darcy. Is this her first ball? For I thought she was out since last Spring, but I know she did not go to London or to Bath this season. Poor, shy little thing." Miss Newcastle tutted her tongue. "Well, some girls are not suited for being with people. I dare say someone or other shall marry her though, for she has enough money."
Kitty was outraged. "Georgiana has a hundred qualities that would secure her the love of a good man without any dowry at all."
"Oh, Miss Bennet, that is very nice! You are so sweet to your friends. But I think you are a bit romantic; after all, the dowry is equally important to everything else, if not more so. We are all very lucky ladies, to have this valuable charm in addition to all our others." Miss Newcastle tucked her arm into Kitty's inextricably.
Kitty regarded her sharply. Did the Newcastles believe her to be well moneyed? Was this the impression under which Mr. Newcastle labored? No wonder he had paid such attention to her. She determined not to scream, but a sound escaped her lips that was something between and laugh and a strangle.
"Yes, fortune is a vital virtue," agreed Mr. Newcastle. "But there are others of equal weight."
"Such as?" asked Kitty sarcastically. But she wished she had not asked the question at all, for he looked at her very meaningfully.
"Such as a pretty face, a feminine mind, and good family connections," he said, implying by his gaze that he believed she had all three in abundance.
"What of an intelligent mind?" she challenged, "or a happy nature? What of shared interests- a real integrity of character? Do not these issues apply when one is looking for a partner in life?"
Mr. Newcastle took her passionate outburst to mean that this was Kitty's opinion of himself, and he beamed, quite agreeing that he was indeed the possessor of all said qualities. "I think we understand each other," was his significant reply.
"It is very good that we are becoming friends, Miss Bennet," whispered Miss Newcastle into Kitty's ear. "It will be beneficial in the future, will it not?" She squeezed Kitty's arm, and Kitty took the opportunity to squeeze back- very hard. "Ow!" cried Miss Newcastle. "You are so excitable!"
Kitty had been desperate for some relief, and she forgave herself this transgression, but knew she must quickly escape this horrible conversation. It was apparent to her that Mr. Newcastle meant to propose marriage, and even more apparent that both siblings expected her to accept. Mr. Newcastle, as her husband! She could not even think it. It was totally out the question. Especially considering how shocked he would be to find out that she was not settled with any kind of inheritance; for being the companion of Georgiana Darcy, and the sister of the mistress of Pemberley, did not increase her own material value. She was Kitty Bennet of Longbourn, and she was worth exactly five hundred pounds. It occurred to her that she might spare herself any further courtship with Mr. Newcastle by revealing this bit of information. But it must be done artfully, to spare them all awkwardness, and Kitty knew not how. Therefore, she concluded within herself to speak with Lizzy on the matter, and to bear out the rest of this walk as well as she could; for certainly he would not propose to her yet- not with his sister present. She felt she was safe for the moment.
Kitty was wrong. Mr. Newcastle had every intention of taking her aside and demanding her hand in marriage that very afternoon. He saw no reason to wait- indeed, she was all things he thought necessary: attractive, girlish, and socially positioned. It would be a fine thing, and she would say yes, of course, for what girl would not? He knew himself to be handsome, charming, witty, and rich. (He was right on two counts.) What more could any woman hope for? Mr. Newcastle had earlier apprised his sister of his intentions, and he raised his eyebrows at her now quite dramatically. She accordingly dropped out of the conversation at once.
"Miss Bennet, I believe I have been allowing you to monopolize me dreadfully," said Miss Newcastle with an impatient giggle, and a knowing look for her brother. "I must give equal attention to Miss Darcy, or it will be unfair. Will you excuse me?"
Kitty was actually relieved to be rid of her, though she would not have been, had she known the situation. She was tired of the insinuations of that lady, and wanted her far away. At least Mr. Newcastle was not always embarrassing her. She could much more easily withstand an hour of self-absorbed prattle than she could five more minutes of intimate hinting from Miss Newcastle.
They walked on alone in silence, however, and Kitty wondered what it could mean. Why did he not have anything to tell her? Surely he had done something interesting that morning- brushed his hair, perhaps, or eaten a fascinating breakfast? She was amazed that he did not give her all the details. But Mr. Newcastle's mind was, for once, on something other than himself. He looked at her quickly.
"Miss Bennet, there is a little path here- where does it lead?"
Kitty had not memorized all the paths of Pemberley, and she said she did not know where this one went.
"I should like to find out. It looks pleasing."
"I thought you did not like walking?" she queried.
"Yes. Well." Mr. Newcastle guided her away down the path to where it almost joined with another main avenue of the estate. The rest of the party were now barely within hearing, and Kitty felt it was imprudent to be thus secluded with a gentleman.
"Mr. Newcastle, I think we must rejoin our friends."
"Ah- we shall. And when we do, you shall be an altered creature."
Kitty did not understand him at all for a moment- then it hit her. Oh, no! He would not- he could not! She looked about her frantically, and wondered if it were too late to lift her skirts and run.
"Miss Bennet, I would have you sit down, but there is snow on the bench. And I would kneel, but as you see, the ground is quite wet, and these breeches are easily stained." Breeches, at such a moment! Through her terror, Kitty was able to laugh.
"Whatever would you mean by kneeling? Surely that would be an odd thing to do. Come, Mr. Newcastle, I feel strange- surely we should not be so far from the rest of the party." Kitty tried to turn and walk away, but was halted when he took her hand.
"My dear Miss Bennet," he said in a low voice. "Stay put." There was no escape. She shut her eyes and prepared to endure his proposal, which she knew this must be. "Since we met at the Campbell's," he began, "I have been taken with you."
"This is only our second meeting," Kitty reminded him quickly, snatching back her hand. "You do not know me at all."
"I know all I need to. And I know you favor me in return."
This, Kitty must contradict. "Sir, I have never given you reason"- she began.
"My sister told me," he interrupted, "that at the party yesterday, you ladies all mentioned gentlemen who were your favorites?" Kitty stared at him, aghast. This was a horrible thing for Miss Newcastle to do! She should never have betrayed the confidence of all the other girls. Kitty was obliged to defend them.
"I am sure she exaggerated the conversation, Mr. Newcastle. We only teased each other about dance partners."
"I know you confessed your engagement to dance with me. My sister said you blushed like an angel."
"If I did, it was only self-consciousness. I do not like to be put on the spot."
"I knew you would banter with me. Young ladies seem to be in the habit of prolonging such moments as this with protestations, and little coquettish remarks," he replied, nodding wisely.
"Have you had many such moments as this one, that you can claim to be a master of ladies' habits in them?" she retorted.
He smiled, a little thinly. "Come, Miss Bennet. Be still a moment. Give me room to ask you a very serious question."
Kitty longed to oppose his wish, but there was nothing to distract them further. Oh, where was Georgiana? Miss Newcastle must be holding her back on the path, or Kitty knew her friend would have long since interrupted this inappropriate tête-à-tête. The moment was acutely uncomfortable, and her voice failed her. It seemed she must allow him to proceed. Therefore, with a nod, Kitty acquiesced to her companion, determined to bear it and have it over with.
Delighted, Mr. Newcastle began his speech. "I am sure you will be glad to know my wish. It will make you a very happy woman. I intend to see that you are quite well provided for, and I am sure you will be happy with my situation and your new life. Therefore, Miss Bennet, all that remains is to ask you this:"- here he paused for dramatic effect. It is a very good thing he did, too, for it was in that dreadful, ominous pause that Kitty had her salvation; first, the beating of horse's hooves on the avenue adjacent to the path, and then the sound of a voice too long unheard;
"Miss Bennet, is that you I see in there?" Mr. Douglas jumped down from his horse, and came down through the trees that lined the avenue to greet her.
"Mr. Douglas!" Kitty's voice was restored to her; a clear, ringing sound that mingled her joy with her relief. "You are returned!"
"I am! And came here straightaway to call. What a surprise to find you out in the cold!"
"I love the cold!" cried Kitty, feeling she would love anything, anything at all that gave her Mr. Douglas, and made no effort to contain her happiness. "How glad I am to see you!"
"Miss Bennet, do you know this man?" Mr. Newcastle's voice was cold with displeasure.
"I do, sir. He is Mr. Stirling's friend, and lately has become Georgiana's and mine as well."
"How fortunate for him."
"Aye, it is. Glad to meet ya again, Mr. Newcastle," said Mr. Douglas, bowing to the gentleman carefully. It struck his eye that this encounter he had discovered was one of a private nature. Mr. Newcastle made him feel as though his intrusion was very ill timed, but he was in no hurry to leave them. If he had interrupted something, he was glad of it, for it pained him to see Miss Bennet standing with Mr. Newcastle in such an intimate way. "I hope you and your sister are still satisfied with your portrait?"
"It is acceptable," was his ungenerous reply. "I did not realize you were still in Derbyshire. Is this to be your regular residence now?" He received no answer from the preoccupied painter. Mr. Douglas was looking intently at Kitty; she looked longingly back at him, and furious Mr. Newcastle threw an insult at his new rival. "But of course you have no residence. I suppose you cannot keep in one place for long, for affording a regular home must be beyond your means." He hoped to disconcert and embarrass the simple artist with this reference to his financial straits, but Mr. Douglas had been poor too long to let these things affect his spirit.
"I don't have much," he agreed, smiling in an amused way that irked Mr. Stirling greatly. "I'll probably never have a proper home in Derbyshire, and I'll have to come and go as my commissions allow. But I manage to work and stay happy. That's all I ask of life." He looked at Kitty. "Of course, everyone is different," he said soberly, and there was disappointment in his eyes as he looked from the young lady to Mr. Newcastle, and back again.
Kitty was confused at this. Why would he aim such a remark at her? Did he think her different? Could he possibly believe her to be interested in fortune? Oh, good heavens! He thinks I am standing here with Mr. Newcastle on purpose! Indeed, he must have thought so, for she had not been protesting against Mr. Newcastle in any open way. And it would make sense that Mr. Douglas would think her attached to the gentleman- they were alone, in the middle of a wood, standing close together- it all spoke of a serious courtship. Kitty's heart beat like a little bird against a cage and she hurried to her own defense.
"I am just like you, Mr. Douglas," she said rapidly. "I only want to be happy."
"Everybody's got a different interpretation of happiness, Miss Bennet, and everybody's got to have different things in order to achieve it."
Mr. Newcastle was not bright enough to be caught up on this new turn in the conversation, so he offered the only comment he could understand. "That is true. My own happiness, for example, depends on things that must be very unlike your own standards, Mr. Douglas. For indeed, work is not my idea of pleasure, I am made very comfortable and happy by my estate, and will be made still happier by my choice of wife." He stepped very close to Kitty. "To each his own."
Kitty was miserable. He made it sound as if all had been decided! "Mr. Douglas," she began, "you must not think"- but she was not allowed to continue, for Georgiana was almost running down the path toward her, with Mr. Stirling and Miss Newcastle in tow.
"Kitty, Kitty! Oh, we have been trying to come and find you this half-hour! I have been beside myself!" cried Georgiana. "Are you lost?"
"I told you they were not lost," said a very irritable Miss Newcastle, out of breath.
"Why Douglas!" exclaimed Mr. Stirling. "What a surprise! Did you find Miss Bennet for us? How grateful we are."
"I have been with her all this time, and there has been no danger," barked Mr. Newcastle. "Good God, you are all in a fuss over nothing. How ridiculous." He stalked out of the group, back toward the path they had come from. "It is high time we were back inside. Felicity, dear, come take my arm. You look tired, and I will not have you make yourself ill with all this nonsense."
Felicity joined her brother in a moment, and leaned heavily on him, making a display of her exhaustion. "Oh, Miss Bennet, come take my other arm. I truly need support," she whined. Kitty was at a loss. She looked at Mr. Douglas, who was inclined to gaze off in another direction, and then at Georgiana, who was obviously still frightened; for Miss Newcastle had kept them distracted, and neither she nor Mr. Stirling had seen the direction in which Kitty had gone. She had been down a half dozen paths already, in search of her friend, and all the time in a horror of what Mr. Newcastle might be doing.
"It is all right, Georgiana," said Kitty quietly. "Make yourself easy. Let us go back to the house." Not knowing what else to do, and still unable to catch the eye of stubborn Mr. Douglas, Kitty resignedly went to Miss Newcastle, and allowed herself to be leaned upon as they walked back home. Her spirit was aching within her. She had to speak to Mr. Douglas, to make him understand that she would never attach herself to someone like Mr. Newcastle. This entire day, save the first few moments she had seen Mr. Douglas, had been a ruin. Kitty could not wait to get inside, throw off the horrid siblings, and clear her name with her friend.
However, when the party came back up to the house, Kitty's hopes for vindication were dashed. Mr. Darcy was waiting for them outside. His look was quite serious as he strode forward to meet them, and he carried a letter in his hand, which he passed to Mr. Stirling. His eyes were troubled, and he put a hand on young Arthur's shoulder. "Let us go aside a moment," he said gravely.
Startled, Mr. Stirling allowed Mr. Darcy to steer him away from his friends, and he opened the note with no little apprehension. When he had read it, he was glad for Darcy's grip on his arm, for he thought he would fall to the ground. Instead, he spoke urgently in low tones that none of the party could hear. Mr. Darcy presently nodded, and called a servant for the gentleman's horse as Stirling himself went back to his comrades.
"My father is ill," he managed to tell them. He looked at Georgiana. "I must return to Sussex at once."
"Oh, no," breathed Kitty. "I am sorry." Georgiana was mute, but her eyes were already filled with tears. Having lost her own father a little over six years before, she was quick to feel Mr. Stirling's suffering, and this empathy was multiplied by the fact that by this time, she truly cared for him. Neither of the Newcastles had any condolence to offer.
"I'll go with you, Artie," offered Mr. Douglas, for in their fellowship as student and teacher, the two young men had become very close.
"No, I won't hear of it; you have only just returned yourself. You must stay here," protested Stirling weakly. But Mr. Douglas had not yet handed over his own horse to the valet, and so he mounted at once, to prove his intention.
"I'd like to see myself. You're not makin' a long journey alone under these circumstances, Stirling." His tone was irrefutable, and Mr. Stirling did not want to contradict him anyway. Soon he had his horse as well, and with a parting look at Georgiana, he and his friend rode off at a gallop toward Stirling Manor.
"Well! So Mr. Douglas is to escort him? I must say he behaves like a lackey, attending his friend all over the countryside," scoffed Mr. Newcastle. He had spoken at the wrong moment, however, and in the company of the wrong lady. Kitty turned on him, pale, her eyes glittering, and made her preference clear.
"John Douglas is a loyal friend and a good man. Do not ever speak ill of him to me again."
"Mr. Newcastle," said a new voice in the conversation. The voice was stern.
"How do you do, Mr. Darcy?" Newcastle bowed. "Cold day, isn't it? I must get my sister inside at once."
"I am sorry to be inhospitable, but I must claim my sisters back from you again. I am most obliged to you for escorting them through the park and returning them safely home, but this latest news requires us to have a family discussion. You will forgive us." Darcy bowed to the young gentleman and his sister. The quite-put-out Newcastles had no choice but to depart, Mr. Newcastle taking care to leave Kitty with a long, even look of intention. Kitty looked determinedly at the ground until he had quite gone, and then Mr. Darcy guided the young ladies back into the house.
Chapter 17 ~ Solace and Subterfuge
Kitty was as inconsolable as Georgiana, but did not want to add to her friend's unhappiness by disclosing the events of that afternoon. She resolved to wait until things had grown quieter in both their hearts before she confessed everything. It was a difficult decision, but Kitty felt it was the right one. So she sighed and put away her feelings as best she could, determining to find a way to be of service to her companion. Kitty was not so sorrowful, however, that she did not hear Mr. Darcy refer to them both as 'my sisters' when he dismissed the Newcastles. It was a great comfort to her to have this sign of acceptance from her brother in law, and she rejoiced that he had given her a place of such consequence in his address.
Poor Georgiana wept for three reasons. The first: Mr. Stirling was suffering; the second: Mr. Stirling had gone away; the third: Mr. Stirling would now be unable to dance with her at the ball. She was surprised at herself, that she could even consider such petty nonsense when her beloved Arthur was in danger of losing his father. But we cannot help our hearts' desires, and so Georgiana continued to be grieved about the dancing, whether she wished to or not.
The two girls were sunk in spirits, and their earlier hope to join Miss Campbell with Colonel Fitzwilliam was forgotten. Even when that young lady called upon them the next morning, the girls did nothing to facilitate contact between their friends. Fate, however, is often inclined to take a hand in things when human nature fails to assist, and thus it was that Miss Campbell found herself joined by the Colonel that afternoon, in her attempts to rally the morale of the Misses Darcy and Bennet.
"Perhaps we should play music," suggested Miss Campbell. "I understand you have been practising duets?" But the ladies protested this, for the duets had been promised to the absent gentlemen, and they had not the heart to sing them.
"Cards then," decided the Colonel. "A game of Speculation."
"Do you think I am foolish enough to enter into a game of strategy with a Colonel?" replied Miss Campbell. "There; you win. We do not even have to play."
Fitzwilliam smiled. "Vingt-et-un, perhaps? That is more a game of chance. We shall be equals."
"Very well," agreed Miss Campbell. "But I shall be dealer." She dealt to a round to each of them. Kitty and Georgiana regarded their cards listlessly. "Who would like another?"
"I will take one," said Kitty, without feeling.
"I will stay," was Georgiana's quiet reply.
"Hit me!" commanded the Colonel, with energy.
Miss Campbell laughed at him, and dealt them each one more, save Georgiana. "Lay out your cards; let us see the winner!"
Georgiana's hand was a perfect twenty-one. "Vingt-et-un," she said, dispassionately.
"I say, that will never do, Miss Darcy. You must cry it out when you are the winner!" And Miss Campbell gave the example with a flourish which raised an obligatory half-smile from her friend, but otherwise accomplished nothing.
Colonel Fitzwilliam perceived that his young charge was deeply unhappy, and as no entertainment seemed to penetrate her distress, he took pity on it. "Well, cousin," he said gently, "I am very glad to be a friend of yours. I should like to know, if I were suffering, that someone would be so upset for me."
"I imagine," said Miss Campbell wryly, "that you must have 'someone' to think of such things for you, Colonel, besides your cousin."
"Your imagination is kind, but incorrect." He met her playful gaze with interest. "But tell me, now we are on the subject, if you do not have some friend or other that has a claim on your sympathy?"
Miss Campbell laughed. "I am not half so good as Miss Darcy, I am afraid. Though I feel for my comrades' pains, I do not invest myself so wholly in them."
"I think you do yourself a disservice. It is my observation that lively, intelligent women are generally those quickest to feel things deeply. They are all sensitivity beneath the surface of their wit."
"You must know many such woman to be capable of making such an observation."
"Many? No, I am not so fortunate. I know one lady, however, who fits my description."
"Is that so? Are you sure that you think her lively and intelligent?"
"Do not forget sensitive."
"And how do you know that she feels so deeply as you think?"
"Because I have seen her set herself about the entertainment of her friends who are low in spirits, displaying concern for their unhappiness. Does this not speak of some depth of emotion?"
"Not at all, for she might have ulterior motives. But I cannot give an informed opinion; I know none of the particulars of the lady."
"Then I shall describe her further. She is the type who jests with her companions to conceal her heart. But I am sure it is there all the same."
"You may assume too much of this lady on such little information as you seem to have. However, I grant you, she sounds very nice. I would like to meet her, one day."
"I would be happy to make the introduction."
Throughout this exchange, Georgiana and Kitty had both picked up their heads and begun to listen closely: Georgiana with astonishment, Kitty with delight. For a moment, both girls forgot their own troubles, and concentrated on the witty battle before them."
"I know a gentleman," said Miss Campbell, grinning, "who is very like the lady you describe."
"Do you?"
"Yes; he is quite interested in the welfare of his friends, but disposed to banter with them instead of expressing his feelings bluntly."
"I like him already," chuckled the Colonel.
"Oh, he would agree with you there. He likes himself quite a bit, you see."
"Ah, a confident man!"
"Confident is one adjective; a better would be smug."
"The lady I told you of is quite similar; she also has a high opinion of herself."
"Good for her! Too many ladies are over-humble, I think. I like to meet people who know their strengths."
"So do I." Fitzwilliam looked full at her, and Miss Campbell faltered for a moment in her reply. "In fact," he continued, "it sounds to me that we ought to acquaint our friends with one another."
Kitty almost clapped her hands at this excellent maneuver, and Georgiana, whose initial shock over the thinly veiled forwardness of the conversation had turned to excitement, held her breath for the answer.
"How is such an introduction to be attempted?" queried Miss Campbell after she had recovered her wits. "I cannot speak for the gentleman's schedule."
"Nor I for the lady's. But perhaps you will allow me to call on you in a few days, that we might discuss the details?"
Kitty and Georgiana grabbed hands under the table.
"It may be imprudent for us to undertake that kind of arrangement," protested Miss Campbell quickly. "After all, we do not know that our friends will take to each other."
"I am certain," rejoined the Colonel, "that they will." He flashed her an engaging smile. However, she would not admit defeat easily, and feigned reluctance over his proposed call.
"Very well then, I suppose I must accept." She sighed ruefully. "But I knew I should never have entered into battle with an army man."
Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed heartily at this, and slapped his hand on the table victoriously. "Well then, I shall see you on the morrow, if that suits." She nodded, not looking at him. Suddenly Miss Campbell's bravado failed her, and she realized the outrageous flirtation that had just taken place in the presence of her friends. She hastily redirected the subject of the conversation, pinning the focus on Kitty and Georgiana.
"Look, sir," she said, gesturing to the two young ladies, "while we have been so rudely prattling away, something has happened to cheer up these friends of ours!"
"They are both looking much improved," agreed Fitzwilliam. "I cannot imagine why."
Indeed they were, both of them biting back their laugher, their eyes dancing from the entertainment.
"Nor I," replied Miss Campbell. "We must have missed something. Tell us, ladies, what is the secret of your amusement?" But the girls could not respond without losing their composure. Soon after, feeling she had accomplished her aim in the visit to her friends, and wanting to put space between herself and the Colonel in order to think over what had happened, Miss Campbell excused herself and returned home. When Fitzwilliam had quitted them as well, Kitty and Georgiana finally burst into laughter.
"Imagine!" cried Kitty. "We thought we would have to assist them! Why, they seem made for each other. That was so droll!"
"They are each to clever for their own good," was Georgiana's opinion. "But if they ever stop teasing long enough to really talk, I am sure they will be friends."
Kitty made a sly remark on the many natures of friendship, which caused Georgiana to giggle, and the two of them spent a much more tolerable day after that, comforted that at least some good people were finding happiness in the world.
* * *
For Mr. Bennet, life held very few comforts at present. He had been more or less forced to host Mrs. Wickham at Longbourn for over two weeks, and his patience was running very thin. To be sure, he shut himself up in his study as often as possible, but he could not escape meal times, and he was tired of the idle prattle that Lydia had re-introduced to the family table. His wife had been a much quieter person when there were no children to share in her nonsense, but with Lydia home again, Mrs. Bennet had opened the floodgates of her absurdity to her like-minded daughter. Between the two of them, they had driven poor Mr. Bennet nearly to despair, and certainly to drink a little extra port. We cannot blame him therefore, that he took every opportunity to harangue the ladies who were causing him such mental misery. And so, that evening at supper, when Lydia and her mother were deep in a gossip about the cruelty of Jane's sudden relocation to Nottinghamshire, Mr. Bennet found a sufficient opening in which to provoke one of them.
"Yes, indeed," Mrs. Bennet was saying, "Jane had us all fooled. Always such an obliging, trustworthy girl! But in the end she has abandoned her poor mother. Well, I always knew she was cunning, underneath it all."
"Lord, yes! She must be," Lydia sniggered. "Jane is too good all the time. No one can really be so nice as all that."
"No, they cannot! I dare say she is all selfishness, going away to be near Lizzy. It is very hard on my poor nerves, for who am I to visit now? Oh!" Mrs. Bennet gave an injured wail.
"But Mama," insisted Mary, breaking into the conversation with her pious air, "you must remember that 'a man shall leave his mother and father, and shall cleave to his wife', and so Jane and Mr. Bingley are not wrong in departing from home."
"Oh, be quiet, girl! You vex me!" Mary gave a spiritually superior little sniff, and decided her mother was not worth any further moral instruction.
"Well do not complain to me, Mama. I am sure you won't have my sympathy," retorted ever-compassionate Lydia. "At least you are going to Pemberley in another two weeks. And Papa is so unfair that he will not let me come!"
"Why, Lydia!" Mr. Bennet brightened, finally seeing his chance to torment his daughter, "Speaking of Pemberley; I am sure you must have had a letter back from Lizzy by now, inviting you to come along and make yourself at home. Where is it?" He grinned, knowing there would be no such letter.
Lydia glared at her father, and stabbed her mutton with vengeance. "I decided not to write her. What do I care about Pemberley? If she does not want me, I am sure there are plenty of parties in London. I shall join my husband and have a very merry Christmas! I wrote him instead, and told him I would come on the eighteenth, since you are going to turn me out on my ear."
"I confess I am," returned Mr. Bennet gaily. "Though I am very sorry you will not be coming along." It was clear that he was not sorry in the least. "And tell me, has your husband replied to you? For surely he must be aching to have you with him, though I do not recall seeing his letter come through the post."
"Wickham does not care if I come early. He does not have to say I may. I am his wife; I shall go whenever I want."
"How glad I am," chortled Mr. Bennet, "to see how very attentive a husband you have procured for yourself, my dear."
Lydia made no reply. Her father could amuse himself at her expense all he chose, but she would be the one with the best laugh of all when her plan worked out. Oh, yes, Mrs. Wickham had it all arranged in her head, and there was nothing so easy as what she intended to do. Lydia had decided to oblige her father on the eighteenth, and leave Longbourn with no further resistance. She would say she headed to London, but in truth would take the stage-coach to Derbyshire, and put herself up for two days in the Inn at Lambton, with the rest of the money Lizzy had recently spared her. And then, to pay her sister back for that generosity, Lydia intended to arrive, unbidden, at the ball, and give a good shock to everybody! They certainly deserved it for leaving her out so meanly. And she knew Mr. Darcy would not dare cause a scene at his own party, so she would be free to make herself as merry as she pleased.
She had, in truth, written to her husband in London, but only to apprise him of her plans. She knew Wickham would get a good laugh out of the whole idea, for he resented the Darcys greatly for 'holding him back' in life, and would love to see them made uncomfortable. She had told him all about Lizzy's offensive comments that she had discovered in the letter to Kitty, and was certain that Wickham would be game for a little revenge. Not that Lydia cared if he approved- she would do just as she liked- it only made it all the more fun to have someone with whom to share the joke!
With all this in her mind, Lydia was more than able to bear her father's mockery; she comforted herself with the knowledge that she had him fooled, and let him continue to harass her, which he did with relish.
"Well, Lydia," he continued, "I may be wrong about my son-in-law. Perhaps Mr. Wickham has written you after all. I have not gone through today's letters yet; I am sure it is there, for your surely fine husband would never neglect you. I shall see to it after supper." He waited for Lydia to come back at him, but she seemed not to care about his sport, and so he soon gave it up. Mr. Bennet lapsed back into silence as his wife, her thoughts now all turned to Pemberley, began to worry Mary about submitting to a new gown for the ball. Mary, adamant against such frivolity, would not yield, and so they argued vainly over the point until the last dish had been cleared.
After supper, when he was again safely ensconced in his study, Mr. Bennet did indeed go through the day's post. What a surprise it was to find a letter there from Lydia's husband, after all! Yes, this was the 'W' of his son-in-law, and the insincere penmanship of the same. He had to laugh; he supposed he deserved this little irony for abusing his daughter so mercilessly. Lydia should have her fair reprisal. When Mr. Bennet went to put the note into his daughter's hand, her look was at least as triumphant as he could have expected. She gloated over her father as long as he remained in the room, laughing at his stupidity and preening over the little paper until he shook his head and returned to his books. Satisfied that she had been the smarter, Lydia ripped open the seal and read what her husband had to say about everything.
"December 1, 18___
My dear wife,
You are more than welcome to do as you please, which I know you will certainly do in any case. I only wish I could be there, but as you know, the family you plan to visit has always treated me contemptibly. I refuse to subject myself to the unparalleled rudeness I am sure to encounter in that house.
However, you must allow me my share in the celebrations. Therefore, I am sending a friend of mine to meet you in Lambton on the 19th. I think no one of the party will recognize him; you may pass him off as your travel chaperone. His name is Robert Weldon, and he is more than happy to escort you to the ball, for I have described to him the nature of the ladies he will probably find there. I imagine he will add some liveliness to the party- he is just the kind of person you appreciate.
Enjoy yourself, and I will see you again after all your endeavors are over. You have to find your own way to me at Mrs. Younge's, though, for I cannot send you any money (but there is a promising occupation ahead of me in the New Year, which without a doubt will set me up.) You are resourceful; I know you will get here. Perhaps your rich sister will send you- she owes you that much after abusing you behind your back.
Yours &tc.,
George
p.s. Tear up this letter. You have seen how much damage these things can do when stupid people leave them lying around.
-G.W."
What could be more marvelous, to Mrs. Wickham's hedonistic sensibilities, than such a mate in life? This wonderful news settled everything for Lydia. So her husband was neglectful of her? She thought of her father's words and snorted with contempt. Wickham provided for her very well. She could not have wanted for more than this, except riches, of course. Lord, what fun it would be to show up so unexpectedly- with a strange young man, at that! And surely poor Kitty, who must have been suffering all this time from the tedium of having her disposition so restricted by the Darcys, would enjoy the joke immensely. It would be grand to be with Kitty again! Lydia rubbed her hands together, and remembered she was to tear up the letter that was still in them. She did so exuberantly, unable to contain her excitement. She wished that she were on her way to Derbyshire already, and imagined all the pleasures she would soon indulge herself in at the ball. The eighteenth of December could not come quickly enough! Lydia impatiently threw the little shreds of Wickham's intelligence into the fire, laughing her anticipation as they burned to cinders.
Chapter 18 ~ Safeguarding Kitty
On the following day, Mr. Darcy paid a call to Stirling Manor, in order to see if the aged Stirlings required his assistance concerning the illness of their son. They reported they had received a letter from Arthur that very morning, which eased their fears a little. The illness was great, but Mr. Stirling believed his father to be out of mortal danger. However he did not intend to come back before the New Year at least, for he would not leave his mother to bear the trouble alone, and he imagined it would be another month before they were completely satisfied of his father's recovery.
When Georgiana heard this news, her feelings were a little mixed. Some small corner of her heart persisted in feeling disappointment that Arthur would not be at the ball, though she considered herself a monster for even thinking about such a thing. But she was not as selfish as she imagined herself to be- the far greater part of her emotion was relief for Mr. Stirling. Knowing that his father was likely to survive his sickness lightened her spirit considerably. She was also glad to see that Arthur attended his parents so faithfully, for his commitment to them made him all the more desirable to her.
Kitty was also thankful that Mr. Stirling should no longer fear for his father's life, and happy that Georgiana could let go most of her sorrow. With the lifting of her companion's anxieties, Kitty finally felt that she was free to share all that had transpired in the secluded wood with Mr. Newcastle. She unburdened herself of every detail in a rush, for she had barely managed to keep it to herself for the eternity of four days.
Georgiana was stunned at the tale Kitty lay before her. She had not imagined that Mr. Newcastle would propose! At least, not so quickly. The whole situation horrified her.
"Was he quite serious?" she cried, after the events had been revealed.
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Do you think he is truly only interested in your dowry?"
"What dowry? I have none but five hundred pounds. But that does not signify; he assumes I am rich because I am related to the right people. He and his sister made it quite clear to me that my supposed fortune is of uppermost importance." Kitty sighed. "It would serve him right if I accepted his proposal, and let him discover the truth too late."
"Oh, no! You mustn't!" Georgiana was mortified.
"Do not be alarmed. It would be too much a punishment for me to have to be his wife. The little pleasure of fooling him would hardly be worth that pain." Kitty sighed again. "I cannot help considering that Mr. Newcastle's proposal is probably the most eligible offer of marriage I shall ever receive. Not that I care about money- I would much rather marry for love, but that will never happen. Especially now that Mr. Douglas"- she cut herself off abruptly, and turned her face away.
"Kitty, I am sure that you are mistaken. Mr. Douglas cannot think ill of you."
"He does; I know he does. He thinks I am willingly receiving Mr. Newcastle's attentions. He thinks I am attached to that wretched, conceited, horrible fool. No, Georgiana. Mr. Douglas is not going to come back to Derbyshire. At least, not for me." Kitty's voice was choked as she said this last, and Georgiana did not know how to comfort her. "If only he would come back!" Kitty continued. "If only I could explain myself! Oh! I hate Mr. Newcastle!"
In vain did Georgiana try to calm Kitty's distress. The only consolation she could think of was that at least Mr. Newcastle would not likely renew his addresses. After all, Kitty had left him in no doubt of her heart when she had so warmly defended Mr. Douglas at their last meeting. Kitty agreed it was improbable that even Mr. Newcastle could be so arrogant as to misconstrue such an obvious declaration of her preference, and it did give her some solace to believe that she would no longer be in danger of his unwelcome attentions.
Two days later, however, Mr. Newcastle came to call. This event was so totally unexpected that Kitty flew into a state of utter confusion, and refused to come down the stairs. She clung to Georgiana in the upstairs sitting room, begging her friend to go down and say she was too ill to see anyone.
"Who is ill? What is the matter?" Mr. Darcy had come to the door to see why the ladies remained upstairs. "Miss Bennet, are you not coming to receive your guest?"
At that moment, Kitty's loathing of another encounter with Mr. Newcastle eclipsed her wish to be a lady, and she cried out at Darcy through her rising tears. "No, no, no!"
Mr. Darcy perceived that there was no point in forcing her to go, and he did not want to at that. "Very well; I see you are ill." he said. "I shall go down and make your excuses." He disappeared as quickly as he had come, and Kitty exhaled brokenly. She did look sick as she sank down in the sofa cushions, all pale from worry and trembling with anger. How could Mr. Newcastle solicit her now? Was he totally without feelings?
A moment later, Mr. Darcy returned, and Elizabeth came with him.
"Kitty, are you quite all right? Do you need something?" Without waiting for a reply, Lizzy sent for a glass of Madeira, then sat and held her sister's hand. Kitty took the offered wine gratefully. In a moment, it had soothed her anxiety considerably, and she breathed quite normally again. Once recovered, however, she remembered her exclamations to Mr. Darcy and immediately felt ashamed of herself. She looked at him quickly, and saw that he was regarding her intently, which she imagined was probably due to some objection to her behavior.
"I am well, Lizzy," she said, after a moment. "But I need to go to bed. I am sorry for all this fuss."
"Can you not tell us what the matter is?" prodded her sister, gently.
Kitty glanced uneasily in the direction of Mr. Darcy once more. "No, it is nothing," she replied.
Georgiana could not contain herself at this. "Oh, Kitty," she pled, forgetting propriety in her eagerness to promote openness in her friend, "you mustn't fear my brother. Truly, he will only help you. You must tell him what has happened!"
Kitty was now thoroughly embarrassed, and even less inclined to talk about her troubles, until Mr. Darcy himself came and sat directly in front of her. "Miss Bennet- or rather, Catherine," he said carefully, "I hope that you will trust me. Indeed, Georgiana is right, I am only here to help. I feel it is my duty to stand in the place of your father, since you are away from home."
Kitty looked at Lizzy for some kind of encouragement. Elizabeth squeezed her hand. "Tell us why you must avoid Mr. Newcastle, Kitty," she said firmly.
Looking at her sister, and not Mr. Darcy, Kitty managed to enlighten them both of the failed proposal that had taken place in the woods. She told of dowries, breeches, and the welcome interruption of Mr. Douglas, all in a voice that sounded to her to be very far away. She felt extremely strange, telling her secrets with her brother-in-law standing by, and wondered what he would think of her for getting herself into such a situation.
"And you think he means to propose again?" asked Mr. Darcy presently.
"I am afraid he will."
"And you are certain your answer is no?"
"Perfectly certain." Unsure of what she perceived in his question, Kitty went on to defend her decision. "I know that it is a good match for me in every material way, but I just cannot accept him!"
"No one thinks ill of you, Kitty," said Elizabeth. "We none of us, in this room at least, subscribe to the dictums of convenient marriage." She shot a look at her husband, and they exchanged barely perceptible smiles. "If Mr. Newcastle asks you again, you must say 'No,' and be done with it."
"Or," said Mr. Darcy dryly, "ask your sister Elizabeth for other methods of rejection. She can teach you some very handsome speeches for the occasion."
"He is speaking Greek, I think," said Elizabeth amusedly to the young ladies. "I cannot understand him at all." Indeed, neither could her sisters, who were evidently confused by the current repartee.
Mr. Darcy sobered at once when he looked at Kitty, who was evidently still agitated on the subject of Mr. Newcastle. His natural sympathy, which had always attended Georgiana, was awakened for her. It was clear to him that Kitty had never had a male influence in whom to put her faith, and that she could not believe he would help her. Pitying the young girl that she had not been raised up at home with such protection, Darcy resolved to make her feel secure at once.
"As your present guardian," he promised, "I will not consent to give Mr. Newcastle your hand in marriage, even if you are somehow persuaded to accept him. I already told him you would be indisposed for another week, and that he should put off calling as long as possible. If he does come back, I will see that you are not left alone together. I will tell you frankly that I do not approve of him at all. Does that make you feel easier?"
It did indeed. Kitty finally managed a tiny smile at the intimidating gentleman. He smiled back affectionately, and pressed her hand. She was surprised, but very glad to feel the attention. How unexpected! In light of these developments, it no longer seemed outlandish to Kitty that Georgiana had such a deep love for her brother. It was extremely nice to feel guarded from harm by such a powerful sort of person. And he was kind after all; why had she never seen it? She smiled at him again, and this time her heart was in it.
"Thank you," she said simply. She looked to Georgiana, who was beaming happily at the sight of her friend and her brother coming to such an understanding, and both girls felt more than ever that they were truly sisters.
At the same time, Darcy looked to Elizabeth, who met his eyes with such a grateful, ardent expression that he was unable to sit still. He and his wife quickly left the room together after further assurances to the girls that all would be quite well, and when they had established their privacy, Elizabeth kissed him soulfully.
"You are very good," she said softly. "My sister needs exactly that kind of sheltering, and she has never had it."
Darcy looked at her with the intensity only he possessed. "I will learn to do anything for your sake, Elizabeth. Protect your sisters, let go of Georgiana, laugh at my mistakes- anything at all. Provided you are with me through the doing of it, I can achieve the impossible." He kissed her with the full strength his passion.
When she could speak again, Elizabeth put her finger under his chin, and looked into his eyes. "I am glad to hear it," she said, "for I have something to tell you, and you have just given me your approval on it."
"Anything," he replied recklessly.
"Well then." Elizabeth's eyes sparkled, and she backed away from her husband toward the door, as if she were preparing to dart out of the room. "I have received a letter of late. It is a reply from my family, concerning the ball. Mama, Papa, Mary, and our neighbor Maria Lucas will be with us from the eighteenth to the twenty-second! Learn to love it!" Before he could speak, Elizabeth did indeed run from the room, and her breathless laughter echoed back to him from down the hallway.
"Oh, dear God," was all Darcy could say. So he repeated it. "Oh, dear God." And then he laughed as though his sides would split.