CATHERINE (Pride & Prejudice continued.... Book 2)

by Sue Barr

  He knew she liked his attentions, that she looked forward to their excursions given the brightness of her eyes when they lit on him, but she remained as skittish as an unbroken filly. Dancing around their attraction, unwilling to let him close enough to capture her heart.

  She remained an enigma, which was part of her charm. Miss Catherine Bennet didn’t flirt, she didn’t bat her eyes, she didn’t try to contrive ‘chance’ meetings – instead she spoke honestly, averted her gaze when he flirted with her, and seemed genuinely pleased when he happened across them the other day when she and her sister were shopping with their Aunt.

  One day, when they were old and gray, he’d confess how he had one of his footmen watch their Uncle’s house and report where they’d gone. With Miss Catherine, he planned on leaving nothing to ‘chance’.

  “You and your bride are well?” George asked Darcy, when all the noise of greetings had finally abated.

  “We are. I am a happily situated man.”

  “I thought you might have brought Georgiana with you this evening. I know she is not out yet, but this is a family dinner, of sorts.”

  “I dare say she would have come if she could. She has a horrendous cold and is deathly afraid Elizabeth will contract it.”

  “How considerate of her. Not many young ladies think beyond themselves at her age.”

  Darcy smiled. “Not many young ladies are my sister.”

  “You and your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, have done an admirable job of raising her. I know Maxwell speaks quite highly of her, given her age.”

  “He does?” Darcy’s interest moved to Max, his eyes narrowing as he shifted into elder brother mode. “And does he speak of my sister often?”

  “Stand down, Darcy.” He slapped Darcy on the shoulder. “My family has known your family for generations. I am sure he looks upon her as a younger cousin. He speaks of her as often as he speaks of you. There. Satisfied?”

  “Moderately.” A soft smile graced his face as Elizabeth approached the two of them. “My wife. Have I told you how lovely you look this evening?”

  “More than once, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled. “How are you, Lord George? I have given to understand you may be taking over your mother’s estate in Cambridgeshire?”

  “How on earth did you know that?” George asked. “I signed the papers with Mother’s solicitors just this past week.”

  “I have my sources, Lord George and if you think I am going to give them up without some incentives, you are mistaken.”

  George couldn’t help himself, he burst out laughing. “What kind of incentives are we speaking of, dare I ask?”

  Elizabeth leaned across Darcy’s body and whispered, as though imparting a great secret. “Your brother’s cook’s recipe for cranberry scones. Lately, I crave the taste of them most ardently and our cook cannot figure out what missing ingredient makes yours so different.”

  “So, for a melt-in-your-mouth scone, you will give up your source?”

  “Sadly, yes.” Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders with a simple elegance. “I would never make a good spy.”

  “Thank goodness for that.” Darcy murmured and lifted her gloved hand to his lips. “I could not bear to lose the two of you.”

  While Elizabeth smiled and flushed again at her husband’s tone, George’s interest was captured by Darcy’s phrase, ‘the two of you’. He slid his glance lower and noticed an almost imperceptible roundness beneath Mrs. Darcy’s gown. George rocked back on his heels and understood now why Mr. Darcy was content. He was a happily situated man, indeed.

  The dinner bell sounded and Max’s butler appeared in the doorway.

  “Dinner is served, Your Grace.”

  As Miss Mary Bennet was the eldest single woman, Max offered her his arm and George happily escorted Miss Catherine into the dining room, suddenly glad Darcy left his younger sister at home with her tutors for this trip.

  “Miss Catherine, I return to Cambridgeshire at the end of this week. Might I deliver your father’s book for you?”

  “How thoughtful of you, Lord George, but rarely do I see surprise in my father’s eyes and I do not want to miss out on the occasion.”

  “Of course, I also would not want to deprive you of that pleasure.”

  Confound it, he’d have to obtain the book by other means.

  Catherine was seated across and down the table from him, so he was unable to enjoy a semi-private tête-à-tête with her. As such, he turned his attention to his future sister, Miss Caroline Bingley, who regaled him with candid observations about his youngest brother. He was delighted in the knowledge that she challenged him. Nathan needed a partner in life, not a docile doormat.

  After the gentleman had spent some time with their port, they joined the ladies in the drawing room. Mary was quietly playing the pianoforte and the rest of the ladies were gathered together, deep in pleasant conversation. When the men entered, Max asked them all if they would like to play a word game called Consequence. Everyone agreed and quickly arranged the chairs so they were in placed in a circular fashion around the room.

  Max quickly explained the rules and wrote down on a single sheet the instructions.

  “As your host, I shall begin the game and pass the sheet of paper to my right, which means you, Darcy will be the second, followed by Elizabeth, etc., etc. Now, this sheet” – he held up the document with the writing prompts – “will be passed along with the blank sheet so that you do not forget what you are to write next. Does everyone understand the game?”

  At their nods, Max scribbled a word on the paper and folded the sheet just enough to cover his answer yet leaving the document available for the next person to write on. Darcy took some time to look over the second sheet with the writing prompts.

  Adjective for a gentleman

  Gentleman’s name

  MET:

  Adjective for a lady

  Lady’s name

  AT:

  Where they met

  What he wore

  What she wore

  He said to her

  She said to him

  The consequence was

  What the world said

  Once the document reached Nathan, who was last to participate, Max took the sheet from him and handed it to Caroline.

  “Caroline, seeing as you did not have the chance to write down something, would you do the honor of reading?”

  “I would love to.” Caroline scanned the page quickly, her full lips lifting into a smile as she reached the end. She then looked around the room and began reading.

  “Clever Mr. Darcy MET Defiant Mrs. Jane Bingley AT The George Inn. He wore mud-spattered boots. She wore a diamond tiara. He said to her, Have you any porridge? She said to him, I believe we are going to have rain. The consequence was they imbibed in too much wine. The world said, My Kingdom for a horse!”

  They all laughed gaily and Darcy declared, “I know Charles wrote ‘have you any porridge?’ as he is always thinking of his next meal. You shall have to watch him, Jane. He will blossom into a ‘well-rounded’ gentleman if you give him free rein over the table.”

  Jane smiled and blushed before replying. “Between his textile mills to the north and his shipping concerns in Liverpool, Charles does not have time to indulge as he once did.”

  “My Angel, always looking out for me.” Bingley bestowed yet another loving glance upon his serene wife.

  “Would you all like to play another round?” Max asked. At their affirmative, he picked up another piece of paper and handed it, along with a pencil, to Caroline. “Your turn to go first, and this time we shall pass to the left.”

  Caroline tapped the pencil against her lip before a spark of mischief sparkled in her eyes. She quickly scribbled a word, folded the paper and handed it to Nathan. From there it passed to Mr. Gardiner, to Mrs. Gardiner, to Bingley, to Mrs. Bingley, to Miss Mary, then himself, Catherine, Elizabeth, ending with Darcy, who handed the finished document to Max.

  With a smi
le, Max unfolded the document completely, perused their scribblings and almost laughed out loud. Impatiently they waited as he cleared his throat and began.

  Impetuous Lord George Kerr MET genteel Miss Catherine Bennet AT Netherfield Park. He wore a swirling black cape. She wore a festive hat adorned with feathers. He said to her, “Get thee to a nunnery!” She said to him, “All that glisters is not gold.” The consequence was: they discovered a dread secret. The world said, “God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform.”

  “I love Cowper,” Elizabeth enthused. “You are so brilliant, Mr. Darcy.”

  “I see that my brother and Miss Catherine stole from the bard, although I am surprised George remembers any lines as he has a tendency to fall asleep during most performances.” Max teased while putting away the paper and pencil into a basket the footman had provided.

  “Not fair, brother. I do not fall asleep, I merely close my eyes to avoid any and all distractions, so that I may concentrate on the talented thespians who grace the stage.”

  Both Darcy and Max laughed out loud at his protest.

  “Nay, George. I have heard a gentle snore emit from you on more than one occasion,” Darcy teased, “but I will give you credit for having knowledge of his plays, at least in the written form.”

  “You wound me, Darcy. Now the ladies will think I am a slothful cad and never wish to attend the theater with me, no matter how hard I beg.”

  “I wonder what dread secret they discovered,” Caroline mused. “That was very clever of you, Elizabeth.”

  “I pictured them in some dark castle, one from King Henry VIII’s time, and they stumble upon a secret door, which led to a secret room, where they found a secret box−”

  “Lizzy! How many secrets were we going to uncover in this imaginative world?” Catherine cried out. That she’d enjoyed the game was evident by the lovely smile that complimented her bright eyes.

  “Oh, not long. Only until you found the body of a long-forgotten nobleman, who died hiding from marauding Vikings.”

  “That is preposterous,” Miss Bennet said. “King Henry’s castles were built long after the Vikings raided our country.”

  “You are quite right, Mary. Oh dear,” Lizzy shrugged, showing not one stitch of remorse. “I guess then we shall have to say they found a secret niche where scandalous papers were stashed. Documents that threatened the very life of our King.”

  George gave a start at how close Elizabeth came to what had actually happened during his trip to Cambridgeshire. If he wasn’t absolutely positive that she was not a spy, and that until a few days ago had been safely ensconced in Pemberley, he’d have sworn she knew his secret.

  “Lizzy, you should take pen to paper and write down these fantastical notions. You have the beginnings of a great adventure,” Mrs. Gardiner said in a cheerful voice.

  Elizabeth’s family all nodded in agreement, and Darcy looked upon his wife with an indulgent, happy smile.

  “That’s my Elizabeth. Always the adventurer.”

  “I wasn’t aware you enjoyed the bard this much. I believe this is the second time you have quoted from his works,” George said in a sotto voice to Catherine.

  “When you live in the country and there are many days and nights of inclement weather, five girls will do almost anything to pass the time.” She let her gaze roam over her three sisters in attendance. “I myself once played Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet. I also was the apothecary and Juliet’s mother. With only five, you had to take on multiple roles,” she explained. “We had a much more rounded cast when the Lucas sisters joined in.”

  “Dare I assume who held the lead roles?” George thought for sure the two eldest Bennet sisters would have commandeered the roles of Romeo and Juliet.

  “You can guess, but I do not think you would be correct,” she teased and laughed at his raised brow. “Lydia begged to play Romeo, as she wanted to fight a duel with swords, and Jane played Juliet, although she refused to let Lydia pretend kiss her.”

  “You must have had a merry time of it.”

  “We did. Mama and Papa watched the whole thing and I think it is the only time I ever saw them laugh so much, especially when Jane pretended a red scarf was blood spurting from her bosom after she struck the fatal blow with her dagger.”

  The image of the man he’d killed at Evangeline’s flooded his memory. What would Miss Catherine say if he told her, in no uncertain terms, that blood didn’t spurt from a mortal chest would. Rather it spread with a slow finality across their chest.

  “George, are you all right?” Nathan asked. “You look like you have seen a ghost.”

  He snapped out of the memory and quickly smiled.

  “No ghosts, just thinking about secret rooms. I wonder how many old castles have them.”

  The conversation veered to the great houses of England and tales of ancient kings and queens and George breathed a sigh of relief. He hoped Catherine hadn’t thought his behavior rude. The evening had been almost perfect, the exception being that he didn’t get to spend enough time in conversation with her.

  Later that night, after their guests departed, he enjoyed a glass of port with his brothers in the study. Rarely were all three of them in the same house, let alone the same room.

  “It is good to see you, Nathan. I have recently been told that letters just are not the same as hearing your voice, and I concur.”

  “You sound positively maudlin, George. Are you becoming soft in your old age?”

  “Laugh, if you must. I spent too many nights worrying about you in France to feel shame at my affection for you - misplaced as it is.”

  Max and Nathan both laughed out loud.

  “I survived France and hope this continuing conflict resolves itself soon. Too many good men are dying, on both sides,” Nathan said.

  Silently George agreed with him. In France he’d seen the ravages of war, the stark inhumanity on a daily basis. Dark memories threatened to invade his thoughts, only to be waylaid by Max’s next statement.

  “You are escorting Caroline and the other ladies to Gunter’s tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” Nathan replied, a self-satisfied smile curving his lips. “I would rather have my fiancé alone for the afternoon but given that we are not yet out of half-mourning and will take whatever small pleasures which present themselves.”

  “Might I join you, brother?” George placed his cut glass on a side table. “I may provide a small diversion with the other ladies, if you so desire.”

  Nathan’s affirmative gave him leave to breathe again. During dinner, the solution to the acquisition of Mr. Bennet’s book had presented itself in a most ingenuous way. It was so simple it was laughable, but then, as he’d discovered many times, the best solutions usually were quite simplistic in nature. Now all he had to do was maneuver the surprisingly stubborn Miss Catherine Bennet into giving him possession of the book for one afternoon.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rising several hours prior to the group’s trip to Gunter’s, George quickly penned a note to Catherine asking that she bring along the book. He promised to enlighten her to the reason when he arrived with Nathan. He then broke his fast and called for the carriage.

  “Take me to Hatchard’s,” George instructed Henry.

  “Yes, sir.”

  With that Henry skillfully maneuvered them through the busy streets and George was soon deposited directly in front of the popular bookstore. In a little over half an hour he was on his way to Darcy’s town house, a discreetly wrapped package hidden beneath the squabs of his carriage.

  The night previous, it had been agreed upon by all parties involved that Nathan would transport Caroline and Jane Bingley, and George would escort Elizabeth Darcy, Miss Bennet and Catherine. He hoped, no, he prayed fervently Catherine would agree with his request and bring the book with her.

  He alighted from the carriage and approached the entrance to Darcy House. The heavy mahogany door was opened by the butler.

  “Good afternoon, Hu
tchins,” he said by way of greeting the elderly man.

  “Good afternoon, Lord Kerr. Mrs. Darcy, your brother and the other ladies await you in the yellow parlor.”

  A footman took his hat and gloves and he followed the austere butler to a pleasant room situated on the left side of the massive entrance way. He was as familiar with this house as he was Kerr House. He, Maxwell, Nathan and Darcy had spent many school vacations in both homes along with Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  His gaze followed lines of the shining mahogany balustrade that curved up to the second floor. How many times had they all slid down it’s smooth surface. Before his father died, young Fitzwilliam Darcy had a touch of mischief in him and was game for all sorts of foolish boyhood pranks. When the elder Mr. Darcy passed, he assumed the heavy mantle of everything Pemberley and George often wondered if he’d ever see the lighthearted man he knew and loved as a brother.

  However, after seeing him with his vivacious bride, he worried no more. Happiness shone through Darcy’s eyes and his ready laugh assured him that Elizabeth Darcy, nee Bennet, was the best thing that happened in his life. There was something about the Bennet ladies that made men want to cherish them, evidenced by the absolutely besotted glances he caught between Charles and Jane. Even Caroline, who was very much in love with his brother, commented on how disgustingly sweet they were together.

  “I shall have to eat stale crackers for a month after being in their company. One can stomach only so much sugar in a day,” she’d declared near the end of their dinner the other night.

  He’d laughed at her observation, not wanting to point out that she and Nathan were as bad, if not worse than Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bingley.

  Upon entering the parlor, he noted Miss Bennet and Catherine seated on a small couch across from Mrs. Bingley and Mrs. Darcy, while Nathan and Caroline occupied another small settee closer to the window. Miss Bennet looked surprisingly bright this morning and it took George a few minutes to realize that she was attired in a light green muslin dress, eschewing the dove greys and browns which had been a staple of her wardrobe for as long as he’d known her. It seemed this visit to London was slowly changing the more somber Bennet sister. For that he was glad. He’d come to appreciate the dry wit and intelligence she only showed amongst those she felt comfortable.