“How could my own sister deceive me so?” she whispered to Georgiana. “One is old, the other ugly.”
Georgiana’s hand flew to her mouth. “Hush, Kitty,” she said.
They went into dinner. The girls were seated opposite one another, at the centre of the table. Kitty caught Georgiana’s eye and pulled a little face, but Georgiana looked perplexed, then frightened, turning back to listen attentively to the elderly vicar of Lambton. Kitty looked at her aunt. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were deep in conversation with Mr. Darcy, a circumstance she found impossible to understand. Sensing her gaze, Mrs. Gardiner looked up and nodded subtly towards Kitty’s dinner partner, the ugly one. ‘What is his name? Oh, yes, Mr. Turner,’ thought Kitty. She turned to find that Elizabeth had finished her conversation with him and was speaking to Georgiana and the old vicar. Kitty took a deep breath.
“Mr. Turner,” she said, prettily, “what can you tell me about Kympton?”
“Not a great deal. It is a pleasant little place.”
“Is it as big as Lambton?”
“No, it is a small village. Why do you not tell me something about your home?”
Kitty livened at this interesting change of topic from another to herself.
“Longbourn? The village is the smallest ever seen, and my father’s house is as dull as the grave since all my sisters went away.”
Mr. Turner laughed. “And how numerous are your sisters?”
“There are five of us. Jane is the eldest. She is very beautiful, and very good, and very kind.”
“A paragon?”
“Oh, yes, everyone says so. She married in the same ceremony as Lizzy. Jane is married to Bingley, who is nearly as beautiful and kind and good as she is.”
“Are you recounting a fairy tale, Miss Bennet?”
“It is the absolute truth.”
“So they are perfectly matched? Who is next in the list?”
“Lizzy, who married Mr. Darcy, as you know.”
“Two sisters well-matched.”
“Well-matched, you say? You cannot mean it.” She looked into his grey eyes. She lowered her voice to say, “Unless you mean that Mr. Darcy is so rich.”
He laughed again, and Kitty blushed at her blunder.
He said: “I meant that they seem suited in temperament.”
“Lizzy? Mr. Darcy?” she whispered. “You do say the strangest things.”
“Do I? Who is next in the tale of the princesses of Longbourn?”
“I am, Miss Catherine Bennet,” she said, with an unconsciously flirtatious air. “I shall not tell you anything of myself, lest I shock you with my immodesty.”
He laughed again, and Kitty could not help laughing too, at her own success, although she tried not to.
“Then, there is the youngest of my sisters, Lydia. She was married in August to a lieutenant in the militia, Mr. Wickham. He has now joined the regulars, and they are living very far from home in the north.” She took a sip of watered wine.
“And that is the end of the tale,” she said.
“I think not.”
“Indeed, it is.”
“You told me of Princess Jane, Mrs. Bingley? Then, Princess Elizabeth, now Mrs. Darcy, and Princess Lydia, Mrs. Wickham, and the Fairy Princess Catherine. That is four. What of the mysterious fifth?”
“Oh, I quite forgot Mary,” said Kitty, and added with mock gravity, “Miss Bennet, who is not with us because she feared that Mama and Papa could not survive for three weeks without her care.”
“She sounds thoughtful.”
“Thoughtful? You know her already! Mary never stops thinking, even for a moment.”
The young vicar thought he picked up a flash of mischief in her blue eyes. She seemed about to speak, but changed her mind. Kitty said nothing more on the subject of the missing sister.
Later, Kitty came out on the steps with Elizabeth and Darcy. They watched Mr. Turner’s carriage carry their guests away in the moonlight. Elizabeth put her arm around Kitty’s waist as they went back indoors.
“You seemed to enjoy talking to Mr. Turner, Kitty.”
“Lord, no, Lizzy. I never met so hideous a man in my life. However, I rather fancy he enjoyed my society.”
“Kitty!”
“Lizzy, why are there no handsome young officers in your circle? This seems a poor sort of district, I must say.”
“I thought our family had its fill of officers, Kitty. Have you learnt nothing from Lydia’s experience?”
“What can you mean, Lizzy? And why do you hush me every time I mention our sister’s name?”
“I will come to your room, where we can speak in private.”
In front of the mirror Kitty sat gazing at herself. She picked up a glass, imagining it a wine glass, put it to her lips and looked over the rim, surveying the effect. Hearing a knock at her door, she put it down hastily. Elizabeth came in and pulled up a chair to sit with her.
“Kitty, dear,” she began, “I wish you to understand why it is so inappropriate for you to speak of Lydia. The whole matter of her marriage is so … awkward. As for Mr. Wickham, he is persona non grata in this house.”
“Person who, Lizzy?”
“His is a name not mentioned at Pemberley.”
“Wickham is our brother-in-law!”
“He has made his own choices in life, Kitty. Mr. Darcy will never receive him at Pemberley and it pains his family to hear that name spoken.”
“Well, I never heard of such pride in all my life.”
Elizabeth looked earnestly at her sister.
“Kitty, do you not understand that when Wickham eloped with Lydia, he never intended to marry her?”
“What can it matter now? It was all hushed up. How well you have married in spite of it.”
Elizabeth paled.
“It pains me to hear you speak so carelessly, Kitty. It is my belief that I should never have married at all, had not Wickham been bribed and coerced into marrying Lydia. No respectable man, with a marriageable sister of his own, will tarnish his family’s reputation with such a connection.”
Kitty flounced aside, with the familiar jutting of her little chin and hardening of her mouth. Elizabeth sighed at the work ahead of her to correct the results of her mother’s indulgence of her sister.
“When Wickham did not take Lydia to Scotland, she ought to have left him at once and gone to her relations.” She waited a moment but Kitty did not turn back to her. “Kitty, know you not the fate of a woman abandoned by her seducer? She is cut off from all respectable society. If she has no income of her own, she comes to know degradation such as we cannot imagine.”
Kitty spun around, defiant to the last.
“Mama kept saying we were all ruined when they eloped, but Lydia came back to Longbourn in fine form and took precedence over Jane.”
“Oh, yes. After their marriage, they returned unrepentant and unashamed. You know that to demand precedence, even if it is your right, is most impolite. In their circumstances, it was outrageous.” Elizabeth took Kitty’s chin and turned her face back to her own.
“Look at me, Kitty!” Kitty raised her big blue eyes to the dark anger of Elizabeth’s. “Wickham had to be bribed to marry her and Lydia is too stupid to feel the insult.”
The deepest blush spread over Kitty’s face. Elizabeth continued: “While I regard Wickham’s actions with abhorrence, think you: what was there in Lydia’s behaviour to put such a thought in his evil head? Her loud pursuit of the officers filled me with shame; and you, Kitty, at times, were not much better.”
Kitty’s eyes swam with tears.
“I would not have run away, Lizzy. I never would!”
She burst into loud sobs, and buried her head in her sister’s lap.
“Kitty, dearest, do you see that I had to do this? If I seem a hard substitute for Mama, I am sorry. I hope you will not hate me for it.”
“It is you who hates me.”
“Hate you? What nonsense is this? Now dry your eyes. Drink this wate
r. I wish you to enjoy your stay here. There are ways of amusing yourself with grace and discretion. I shall be your teacher.”
Kitty made a wondrous recovery from her gloom to write again to her mother.
From Miss Catherine Bennet to Mrs. Bennet
Pemberley
Dearest Mama
We have been at Pemberley for five days and I am just beginning to know my way about the main part of the house. The east wing, which has fifteen bedrooms, is closed off for the winter, and still they burn half a ton of coal every day.
I have tried to do something for Lydia and Wickham, but the merest mention of their names makes everyone cross. Wickham will have to find his own way to increase his income.
I have met a frightfully ugly clergyman who would do well for Mary. She ought come to Pemberley in the summer and see if she can get him. I daresay no-one else will have him. His name is Mr. Turner. Lizzy says he has an excellent living in a place called Kympton.
I shan’t have to look at him on Christmas Day, for we shall go as usual to Lambton church. The vicar is so ancient that he hangs on to the edge of the pulpit for dear life and I amuse myself wondering if he will fall out.
All the carriages have been dragged out of the coach-house in readiness for the tenants’ Christmas party. I declare that the farmers’ families will have more laughs than I, for we will be a solemn party on Christmas Day: Mr. Darcy and Lizzy, Miss Georgiana and me, my aunt and uncle Gardiner and two old clergymen’s widows (I know not why Lizzy asked them). The vicar will come if he has strength left after his sermon. Only my little Gardiner cousins will afford me some amusement. Think of poor Kitty!
We are going out to pick holly now, so I must put my letter in the tray. I do hope you will have a joyous Christmas. I send my duty to you and to Papa,
Your affectionate daughter,
Kitty
P.S. My love to my sister Mary.
They came in from holly gathering, glowing with cold and exhilaration. Mrs. Reynolds uttered a soft “ouch” as she took the holly from Elizabeth, who stepped first over the threshold.
“Prickly, was it, Reynolds?” asked Darcy.
“Yes, sir.”
When they were seated and awaiting tea, Darcy said: “There’s a belief in this part of England that the first holly brought into the house determines who rules for the coming year. If it is smooth, the mistress; if prickly, the master.”
“I’ve never heard of this before,” said Elizabeth, smiling. “I do believe you just invented it.” Her dark eyes sparkled with challenge. His eyes smouldered back darkly, but there was a smile in their depths.
“Oh, no,” said Georgiana, “Fitzwilliam would not tell a lie. It really is true … well, people do believe it … the uneducated, that is.”
“Knowing of your formidable education, I imagine you mean to imply that you don’t believe it,” replied Elizabeth.
Georgiana fell silent.
“It is my belief,” Elizabeth went on, “that these superstitions only affect those who believe them. What think you, truly, Georgiana?”
“It is not for me to determine,” she replied, close to tears. She worried for the next hour that she may have implied the unthinkable: that Fitzwilliam might not rule. She missed the spark that passed between her brother and his wife.
Elizabeth had a measure of Darcy’s power, but fancied her own strength against his. This was a moment of mere play, however. Had they been alone, he would have taken her in his arms, she knew. What fun it would be to slip out of them and dance across the floor ahead of his pursuit!
The door opened, and the tea tray was brought in. Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle followed.
“Such a lot of holly you have gathered!” cried Mrs. Gardiner.
After tea, Elizabeth followed Georgiana into the music room to play a duet on the pianoforte.
“How I love to hide behind your talent, Georgiana. You are so clever.”
“Not very clever. I wish I could be half so clever as you in conversation.”
“By clever, I am sure you mean impudent.”
“No! Yet no-one makes fun of Fitzwilliam the way you do. He is not accustomed to it.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I believe he very soon will be.”
“I fear—I fear that you will make him cross.”
“I daresay he will be cross at times.” Georgiana’s hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened. Elizabeth smiled and kissed her cheek.
“Married people always have quarrels, Georgiana dear. I believe I can face a row and survive. The sermons tell us to bow our heads meekly under injustice, but women did not have the writing of them. A woman had best assert herself a little, if she does not desire her husband’s contempt.”
Georgiana looked earnestly at Elizabeth, wondering if she feared Darcy’s contempt, and puzzling over whether such a change in his feelings was possible. Elizabeth laughed and touched the frown creasing Georgiana’s forehead.
“Dear Georgiana, I do not make fun of Fitzwilliam from policy but because I cannot help it.” Her dark eyes were dancing, and her expression hovering between sweetness and irony. “Think you that he is so miserable on it?”
“No, indeed. I have seen him laughing more in these weeks than I ever saw in my life.” Georgiana sat mesmerised. She felt half in love with Elizabeth herself. She was excited and in awe and happy, all at once. Yet beneath the happiness was a tiny sensation of unease.
‘How foolish am I?’ she thought. ‘There is nothing to fear.’
In Kitty’s head there was, as usual, nothing akin to anxiety, indeed, not a great deal of anything at all. She wrote her last letter from Pemberley to her mama.
From Miss Catherine Bennet to Mrs. Bennet
Pemberley
Dearest Mama,
My time at Pemberley is all but gone and I have so much to tell you.
Just as I thought, the tenants were vastly amused at their party. We donned our warmest cloaks to cross the yard in our evening finery. Two footmen lighted our way. The rafters were hung with holly and every lamp in the place had been hung upon the walls. The old people were still at table, but the young were gathered about waiting for the dance to begin. How well I understand their impatience.
Elizabeth danced with Mr. Darcy’s steward, and Mr. Darcy with his good wife. A young man came forward, pushed along by his friends, and asked me to dance. A great cheering went up when I accepted. Mama, he was as handsome a lad as would grace a red coat but, Lord, how he stank of the stables! We were all applauded as though we had graced a London stage. Lizzy, Miss Darcy and I gave presents to the children. Then it was all over, for us, I mean.
I am to come back, with your permission, to Pemberley in the summer. There is to be a large party of guests staying here for Miss Darcy’s coming out. Lizzy has plans for a wonderful ball. What times I shall have then! Mary may come too and sit out all the dances at Pemberley instead of at Hertfordshire.
Pray give my thanks to Papa for his permission to stay in London with Jane and Bingley. I shall love it above all things.
Aunt Gardiner said that I must not expect to spend much time with Lizzy in London, for she will be much occupied in her introduction to the high society of her husband’s circle. My aunt believes that Mr. Darcy’s friends will think he has made a great mistake in marrying her, when he could have married so very well, and that Lizzy will have to work hard to correct this view. Lord, what nonsense she speaks! I envy Lizzy the grand times she will have.
Just think! The famous Twelfth Night Ball, which we read about in the newspaper every year, is to be attended by your own daughter! A wonderful engraved invitation arrived from Countess Reerdon for Lizzy and her husband. A dressmaker’s assistant is come from London to take Lizzy’s measurements and show her some designs. She has chosen a yellow silk and gold beads and tassels that I would die for! The packing is begun for our removal to London. We must arrive in time for Lizzy’s fittings. She is to wear emeralds. I was desperate to hold the jewels against the
silk but, alas, they are kept at the banker’s in London.
I hope that you and Papa continue in good health. I can scarce remember my life at Longbourn. I know not when I shall see you again. Not for ever so long, I suppose.
Your affectionate daughter,
Kitty
CHAPTER 6
IT WAS THEIR SECOND DAY in London. Darcy had spent the morning sitting in his carriage, while the footman delivered their cards to his acquaintances. In previous seasons, he sent the carriage on its rounds without him, but his attendance was obligatory for the first excursion into the world of the cards engraved with the name ‘Mrs. Darcy’.
At each of the selected houses, the footman jumped down, climbed the steps and knocked. His offering was received with appropriate formality. If the recipient was in town, courtesy demanded a return of cards the next morning, followed by a wedding visit at the house.
Darcy sat in the carriage, brooding, ‘The number of recipients who respond promptly remains to be seen.’ His dark eyes turned darker still. ‘Anyone who insults my wife is not worthy of my notice.’
On his return, passing the door to the music room, he heard Elizabeth and Georgiana singing and went in. Pale wintry light fell across the room from the tall windows. Georgiana was playing the pianoforte, and softly singing with Elizabeth. Her eyes flew wide open at the interruption, and she stopped singing, though her fingers played on.
A Private Performance Page 4
