“Yes, Papa.” Mary did not need an explanation.
“Therefore, I will leave it up to you to inform your elder sisters and to enlist their help and support. We need to make reparation.” Mr Bennet returned to his soup. “If only we’d been able to have boys,” he muttered.
Chapter Twenty-One
Reverend Summers stirred his tea until Kitty thought he would wear a hole in the bottom of the cup. “I am surprised at you running away like that and in this weather.”
“I could not breathe. I had to get out of that house.”
He nodded slowly as he studied the contents of his cup. “I understand how you feel.”
Kitty was unsure she heard him correctly, he spoke so quietly. “You do?”
“Yes,” he nodded, staring into the tea he absent-mindedly stirred.
“How so?” Kitty’s curiosity was piqued. She knew Reverend Summers so very little. He had not been their minister for very long, but her father was overjoyed at his appointment, declaring him to be a first-rate minister and an excellent person. Such praise, Kitty knew, was rare from her father. However, in all the time they had spent together in conversation, Kitty realised she had not learnt very much about the man sitting across from her, the man she dared to call friend.
“I…” he looked up and reddened as he caught Dorcas’ eye. She smiled, then put aside the pillow sham she was embroidering, discreetly left the room, and busied herself in the hallway, giving them as much privacy as propriety demanded.
Kitty watched her movements until she was out of earshot. “Go on. You were saying?”
“No one here knows of this matter.” The minister looked sad. “I would have liked to keep it that way.”
“Oh, very well.” Kitty was disappointed but had not missed the pain in his eyes. She decided it would be best not to press the issue, and they both sipped their tea in silence for a few minutes.
“But…” he hesitated. “I… I do see the value in sharing it now. With you, Miss Bennet.” He looked into her eyes, and Kitty felt honoured that he would share whatever intimacy it was with her.
“Three years ago, I lived in Halifax.”
“Yorkshire?”
“Yes.” He smiled at her, but she could still see the sadness around his eyes. “I was promised to be married to a lovely young lady by the name of Rosemary Pearce. However…” he swallowed hard and took a deep breath before continuing, “unbeknownst to me, Miss Pearce had a roving eye.”
Kitty gasped, wondering how an Anglican minister could be so deceived.
“On our wedding day…” Kitty watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed repeatedly. “I… I… stood alone at the altar surrounded by my friends, family, my congregation, and loved ones.” His voice cracked as he recited the list.
Kitty held her breath, fearing she knew what he would say next. She knew then that he understood fully how much her heart was aching.
“As the minutes stretched on interminably, I knew she would not come to me that day or any day in the future.” Reverend Summers replaced his cup and saucer on the table with shaking hands, the tea within unfinished. “You see, she was in love with a merchantman, a mill owner by the name of Barraclough. I knew it the first time I saw them together at the Guildhall ball. Her entire visage lit up when she saw him.” He picked at an imaginary piece of fluff on his knee. “I do not believe there was ever an indiscretion between them. I just think she was too frightened to approach her father and me and own the truth of the matter. They eloped to Gretna Green, and she became Mrs Barraclough.” Reverend Summers bravely lifted his chin and looked Kitty in the eye. “When word reached me that evening, she had already been his wife for two days.”
“Did no one else know of her whereabouts?”
“Aye, her immediate family did. They were not present at the church. I should have realised when her mother did not come.” He laughed bitterly and Kitty’s heart lurched at the sound. “I have given my fair share of wedding services, Miss Bennet. I know the mother of the bride is usually the last of the wedding party to arrive at the church before the bride herself, together with her father.”
“They all deceived you by keeping it from you.” Kitty held her hand over her mouth, appalled by such behaviour.
“They did. No one had the heart to tell the fool of a minister that his bride-to-be had run off with another man.” His smile was full of regret. “So you see, Miss Bennet, I do understand your hurt.” He looked her directly in the eye. “I understand it wholeheartedly.”
Kitty did not know what to say to him. She could not comprehend why someone would treat him so ill. He was a kind man. She had not known him for very long, and, granted, most of her attention for that time had been taken up with Sir Percival and Lydia following the announcement of Wickham’s death, but what she did know of him, she liked. She liked him very much; he had become a dear friend. He was generous too. He always gave more of himself than any other minster she ever knew. She admitted her knowledge of ministers was limited to Reverend Hall, their previous minster, Reverend Summers and, of course, Mr Collins. Kitty was relieved to know that Mr Collins was not the average minister but a peculiar exception.
“You are dumbfounded, Miss Bennet. I have shocked you.”
Kitty shook herself mentally at the sound of her name. “Not at all, I assure you. I confess to being puzzled at Miss…I mean, Mrs Barraclough’s behaviour and that of her family, but you have not shocked me.” His expression softened and Kitty felt she liked his face. It was just like him, friendly and welcoming.
He reached out and took his by now cold tea. “What will you tell your mother?”
His question, although innocent, sent shivers of apprehension through Kitty’s heart. She would have to return to Longbourn and to her mother’s scolding, no doubt.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mary did as her father suggested. She enlisted the help of Lizzy and Jane in the matter. She found her two sisters in the nursery playing with their sons, Charles and William. She paused on her errand and watched the familial scene from the doorway. Her heart swelled with the love inside that room, hoping that one day she too would experience the joy her sisters knew.
Lizzy looked up as Mary shifted position and the floorboard creaked beneath her. “Mary! How nice to see you!” She stood and handed little William to the nursemaid. “Any news?” she asked as she crossed the room to take hold of Mary’s hands.
“Yes. The menfolk have returned.”
Lizzy observed Mary closely, noting her unease. “Do you wish to speak to Jane and me privately?”
Mary nodded. “Please.”
“Very well.” Lizzy turned back into the room. “Jane, we are needed. Let’s go down to my room.” She looked back at Mary. “It is furthest from Mama’s and she won’t overhear us talking.” Lizzy’s eyes twinkled as she smiled.
Mary always loved Lizzy’s eyes; they were so expressive. She was glad her sisters were home even for such a short time. Together, the three sisters made their way down the stairs to the front bedroom where Lizzy used to sleep and where she now stayed with Mr Darcy during their visit.
Mary waited until Lizzy had quietly closed the door before she began. “The menfolk arrived back some time ago and have been taking soup in the dining room. They should be warmed through by now. Mama has not been informed of their return, on purpose.”
“Have they found dear Kitty?” Jane asked, her own eyes full of worry.
“Yes, they have.” She smiled with happiness that resonated throughout her whole body.
“Oh good!” Jane declared, clapping her hands together with evident relief.
Mary continued, “She is at the vicarage. She did not make it any farther. She is safe there; however, Papa informs me that she slipped in the snow and has sprained her ankle.”
“Ouch, poor Kitty!” Lizzy sighed. “I think we all know why she did it, though, do we not? I presume you need us to help in some way upon her return.”
“
Yes. When she returns, she must come home to a loving family who care about her and who will not censure her behaviour in any way at all.” Mary frowned. “She has not thus far seen or felt any compassion or sympathy for what she must be enduring.” She looked at each of her sisters in turn. “She must find it now.”
“You need not worry on our part,” Jane reassured her.
“We will do our best to occupy Mama and keep her from saying anything else that is thoughtless and uncaring.” Lizzy rolled her eyes.
Mary hung her head. “I suppose she does not mean to do it.”
“No!” Lizzy crossed the room in two steps and embraced Mary. “Mama does not mean to do it at all. She would be mortified to know she had caused injury. But, you know, those who do not realise the power of the tongue are often oblivious to the lack of control they have over it too. She would think it ridiculous that she had added to Kitty’s hurt in any way at all. The thought would not occur to her at all, Mary.”
Mary stared at Lizzy, amazed to hear something from scripture coming from her mouth. She used to shush Mary when she quoted from the Good Book.
“We shall protect Kitty. We should have done more than we did. We have to rally as sisters.” She gave Mary another squeeze.
Mary wondered at their relationship as Lizzy returned to sit on the edge of the bed next to Jane and she watched them converse about how to be kind to Kitty when she returned home. Their lives had changed so much in the last two years. Jane and Lizzy were both married and were mothers. Lydia was married, widowed, and now was married again. And Kitty… Mary’s chest constricted. She wondered, not for the first time, if either of them would ever marry.
A clattering from downstairs caught their attention, and all three of them scurried out to see what the matter was. As they reached the top of the stairs, Mary saw the face she had waited all day to see—Kitty.
“Mama, come quickly! Kitty is home!” Lizzy cried out and Mary ran down the stairs.
She flung herself into Kitty’s arms and embraced her tightly, not caring that her coat was still on and was wet from the snow. She cared not that her face and dress were now wet too. She was elated that Kitty was home. She kissed her cold cheek tenderly, not knowing if the moisture was from the snowfall or from the tears that fell unabated down her own face.
“Kitty!” Mrs Bennet’s voice boomed from atop the stairs, echoing its way down to the assembled family in the hallway before she herself even appeared. “Where have you been!”
Mary felt her sister tense in her arms.
“Mama, she is well!” Lizzy cried, her voice louder than usual.
“Yes, I can see that, thank you, Lizzy!” Mrs Bennet appeared, stomping on each step as she descended. “Where have you been?” she cried breathlessly. “How could you do this to your poor mother?”
“We are all so happy you are home, Kitty!” Jane’s voice cut through their mother’s onslaught. “Come,” she exclaimed exaggeratedly, “let’s have some tea to warm you up, and we can talk all about Christmas dinner.” Jane firmly took hold of Kitty’s right arm and Mary, following her sister’s lead, did the same on the left. Jane and Mary walked Kitty past the foot of the stairs and into the drawing room, with Kitty glancing between her two sisters. Her face was a mixture of perplexity and relief.
“Reverend Summers, how good it is of you to accompany my sister home.”
Mary was amused to hear her sister Lizzy speaking so loudly in the hallway that it was quickly becoming farcical. It was clear that the siblings wished to detract from their mother’s histrionics. She smiled slyly at Kitty as she and Jane guided her gently to the settee.
“Thank you,” Kitty whispered.
Mrs Bennet came bustling in the drawing room and stood huffing and puffing before Kitty. “Well, this is a fine carry-on, I must say, Miss Kitty!” She waggled her head from side to side and pouted. “What do you have to say for yourself? Hmm?”
“Hill,” Lizzy’s voice sounded from behind her mother, “shall we have tea? Any chance of some toasted crumpets too?”
“Hush, Lizzy! I want an explanation!” Mrs Bennet’s frustration was evident. Her face was now a beetroot colour, and she flapped her handkerchief in Lizzy’s face.
Mary shifted forward in her seat. “Yes, crumpets would be lovely, Hill.” She did her best not to look at her mother. “All this excitement has really given me an appetite.”
“Am I entirely invisible?” Mrs Bennet stamped her foot on the ground.
“Now, then!” Mr Bennet nudged his way into the room. “If I may gain entrance to my own drawing room.” All eyes turned to him, and even Mrs Bennet quieted for the moment.
Mr Darcy, Mr Bingley, and Reverend Summers shuffled inside to allow him passage.
“What is all this fuss about?” he asked as he positioned himself so he could warm his hindquarters before the fire.
“I am trying to make myself heard above your daughters—”
“My daughters, are they? I thought they were ours?” He looked at the sisters with eyes glinting with amusement. “It has always amazed me that when any of you are not bending to your mother’s will, that you instantly become my daughters and not ours.” He returned to warming himself, entirely brushing aside his wife’s concerns.
Mary laughed at her father’s interjection; he caught her eye and winked.
Kitty leant close to her and whispered in her ear, “Is everyone protecting me?”
“It would seem that way, wouldn’t it?” Mary took hold of her hand.
“Oh, Mr Bennet!” their mother screeched turning towards her spouse. “You take great delight in vexing me! I demand an explanation from Kitty! It is not to be borne—having her gallivanting all over the country as though she had no mind for how her mother would feel.”
“Gallivanting about the country, were you, Kitty?” Mr Bennet quipped, clearly amused by Mrs Bennet’s continued outburst.
Mary, Kitty, and Jane remained silent. Lizzy, standing behind their mother, stifled a giggle behind her hand.
“You know what I mean! Oh, you do this just to upset me.” She plopped herself down in her chair and glared at Kitty.
“There is nothing to upset yourself over, my dear,” Mr Bennet’s voice softened as he placated his wife. “Kitty merely went to take the air when the weather turned for the worse. She took shelter at the vicarage and, quite naturally, was unable to inform anyone of her whereabouts.” He held up a hand to stop his wife interjecting when she took a deep breath. “I am aware that you were worried and your nerves could not take much more, I am certain. But, my dear, she is home now, alive and well. You may rest easy now.” He held her gaze steadily for a moment or two and it seemed the whole room held their breath.
Mrs Bennet swallowed and looked away from him. “Yes, well… I…” She dabbed at her eyes but this time Mary could see real tears in them.
They all fell silent as Mrs Bennet composed herself.
“The snow is lighter now, Mama. Do you see?” Jane twisted in her chair and pointed towards the window behind her.
“What care I for the snow when my daughter was out in it?” She sniffed back tears. “She could have been lying in a ditch somewhere dead for all we knew!”
“Mama!” Lizzy pulled a face. She did not look amused at the suggestion as she took a seat next to her husband, who seemed to be particularly interested in his fingernails.
“Well, my nerves are stretched to breaking point with worry.”
“Well, I am here now, Mama, and I am well, as you can see.” Kitty bravely spoke out and gave their mother a warming smile.
Mrs Bennet snapped at her, “Yes, I can see that for myself, Kitty, thank you very much! What do you care for my feelings? Did you have a kiss for your poor mama upon your return? No! No such compliment was paid me.” She sulked, her arms folded across her ample bosom.
“I apologise, Mama.” Kitty rose and crossed the room.
Stiffly, Mrs Bennet proffered her cheek to be kissed.
Kit
ty pecked her mother on the cheek and limped back to the settee and the relative safety amongst her sisters.
“Hmm… yes, well…” Mrs Bennet pined.
“What is it now, Mrs Bennet?” Mr Bennet rolled his eyes heavenward as he took his own seat, his tone growing increasingly irritated. “Are you not satisfied now?”
“I am put out,” she whined. “I thought she had run away, Mr Bennet. Why would she do such a thing?”
“You may very well ask yourself that, my dear. I have been asking myself why it has never happened before.” His smile stretched the width of his face, his mirth returned in full force.
“Oh, Mr Bennet,” his wife wailed. “How can you be so cruel?”
Whilst Mrs Bennet continued to sob loudly, Mr Bennet turned to the minister, whose face showed he did not know what to make of the whole discourse. “So, Reverend, is it as Jane says? Is the snowstorm abating?”
The minister stared astonished at him, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.
Kitty nudged Mary in the ribs and nodded towards the minister. Neither could stifle a giggle.
“Er…yes, Mr Bennet. It certainly seems that way. Miss Bennet and I were able to walk here with very little trouble, apart from her ankle, that is.”
“Very little trouble, he says,” Mrs Bennet burst out. “Have you seen the state of Kitty’s dress? It is wet through to the knees!” entirely ignoring the comment about the wrenched ankle.
For the first time, Mary noticed her sister’s clothing.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Kitty! Get upstairs and change!” Mrs Bennet flapped her handkerchief at her prodigal daughter.
Kitty immediately rose and hobbled out of the room, supported by Mary.
“Well,” they heard their father declare as they climbed the stairs, “it seems everything is back to normal again, doesn’t it?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The heavy snows were followed by hard frosts, making travelling possible again and yet making it feel ever so much colder. The plans for Christmas continued, and Mrs Bennet cheered up knowing that they would have a large family feast at Netherfield Park. Kitty lamented the coming festivities. In general, she loved Christmastide and all the gaiety, but this year her heart was not in it. She dwelt instead upon what might have been. She might have been Lady Etherington, she might have been living in finery in London, and she might have been celebrating Christmas in society’s first set. Instead, that happy lot fell to her younger sister, Lydia.
Christmas at Longbourn Page 9
