“Thank you, Darcy. You are ever a true friend.”
The Darcy coach returned as it had arrived, carrying the ladies but not Mr. Darcy.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kitty sat at her writing desk, quill poised, uncertain how to begin. After some moments of thought, she dipped her quill and wrote:
* * *
My dear MME,
I pray this letter finds you and our esteemed friend enjoying good health and happiness.
The couple of our mutual acquaintance has returned from their wedding tour of the Lakes. I believe that gentleman has gained command of his character and that the couple will do well together. He has actually been of assistance in the other issue of our mutual concern.
I am pleased to say that my friend has also been married to the brother of the gentleman you cautioned us about. The man under suspicion did travel here to attend his brother’s nuptials and was, by a stroke of luck, observed by me—on my morning ride—involved in a clandestine meeting with our injured gentleman. When discovery seemed imminent, the first attempted to leave our area in secrecy, but was apprehended by our swaggering groom, who also made a clean breast of his own involvement and declared his regret of such.
My brother then forced from the first man a full confession. He does not appear to know the names of those directing the operation but did admit to recognizing a few faces that always seemed nearby when he received his orders. He has agreed to meet with one of your representatives, in confidence, to divulge what he knows. His gambling debts are heavy and he wishes to keep these from the knowledge of his esteemed father—my brother’s cousin—with whom you are also acquainted.
The informant’s wife is with child and her confinement approaches. He is loath to upset her. Should he fail to prove cooperative, please contact my brother, who will have strong leverage. My brother will send you the contact information for this informant by separate letter.
Unfortunately, the injured gentleman has disappeared. Searchers are being sent out as I write this letter. He has even stolen a substantial sum of money from his own father. His state of mind is not rational, nor has it been for some time, even before the injury. He is a deeply troubled soul. His family—you remember his brother who rescued me in the forest—grieves for him. If any of your contacts should become aware of the injured man’s location, or have any news of him, please notify me at once.
Yours in friendship and alliance,
CB
* * *
She sanded and sealed the letter and prepared it for the post. She would remind Darcy of the information he must supply.
The day proved quiet as a gentle rain fell until nearly dark. Autumn weather had arrived. A crimson sunset gave Kitty hope that tomorrow she could walk outdoors with Lizzy, who grew fretful when confined to the house. She was large with child, and Kitty wondered if the predicted birth time might be off.
≈
Two weeks had passed since the disappearance of Douglas Wyndham. The carriage was discovered abandoned some twenty miles north. Kitty thought it curious no witnesses had seen a man in a wheelchair. The strongbox money had done its job.
Kitty and Georgiana called on Lucy every few days. The young bride seemed to bloom in her new role as wife. She and her husband were settled at Cedars, and Christopher had taken on the task of making improvements to the dower house. He had also come to Pemberley’s library on two occasions in search of books on architectural design and landscape architecture, and had great interest in planning renovations for some of the buildings at the Cedars estate.
One morning whilst visiting at Pemberley, Lady Drake said, “My heart lifts at seeing my son step into his duties and inheritance with pride. He has an excellent eye for beauty,”—and here she nodded at Lucy, who blushed,—“but also a head for structure. Marriage has given him new purpose.”
Kitty passed a tray of newly baked shortbread and Georgiana poured tea as Lady Drake continued.
“Benjamin, as you no doubt know,”—here she looked directly at Georgiana—“has made several trips to Matlock as he prepares to join his elder cousin’s law practice. He, too, seems focused on a very specific future.” She smiled at Georgiana over the rim of her teacup.
Georgiana colored. “I do hope he will be able to attend our Harvest Ball,” she said with some concern. “It is a tradition my brother reinstated after he married. I cannot imagine a ball without Benjamin present.”
Lady Drake lifted a brow. “A ball? Mrs. Darcy, that is a great deal to take on in your state.”
Lizzy smiled. “Actually, Lady Drake, it is training for my sister. Kitty is in charge of the event as part of her education on managing a household. She of course has myself and Georgiana to consult, and my wonderful housekeeper.”
“It has been challenging,” said Kitty. “I have done nothing of the sort before.”
“You will need those skills in the future, Miss Bennet. It is wise to learn from those who are experienced, whilst you can.”
Unbidden, a picture of Owen and herself as master and mistress of a home caught Kitty off-guard and she felt color flame into her cheeks.
Lady Drake gave her a quizzical smile.
Had she seen the same vision?
Kitty fingered the stone she kept in her pocket.
≈
The spell of damp weather gave way to a crisp, lovely autumn. Kitty rode nearly every day. Those rides and the preparations for the ball were fair distractions from thoughts of Julia.
Lady Stapleton had come to call the day after Matilda and William departed for Reading. It was then disclosed that Julia had accompanied them. The newlyweds’ home was large and they were delighted for Julia to make an extended visit.
Kitty was speechless.
“Swan’s Nest is not the same, Mrs. Darcy,” Lady Stapleton mused, staring past them and out the window. “Only the squire and the young ones for company. First Andrew—gone for we know not how long. And now both my elder daughters—one in joy, one in pain. Aye, but I must accept the will o’ Providence. Perhaps Julia will find peace in Reading. Goodness knows she’s had naught but pain these many months here, the poor lass.”
Lady Stapleton had handed Kitty a letter that Julia wrote the day of the hurried departure.
Kitty could barely utter “pardon me,” before she fled to her rooms. Once there she tore the letter open and read:
* * *
Swan’s Nest
My dearest friend,
Please forgive me for saying farewell in this selfish way. The pain of saying goodbye to you in person, added to all the other pain in my heart, would be too much to bear at present. I hope you can understand. It is impossible for me to find comfort in the familiar neighborhood. Memories accost me at every turn and I daily feel what I have lost, as well as dismay at the present unknown situation of one I love. My apprehension about where and when he might be found—if he is ever found—is overwhelming. I must remove myself. The entirely new place and situation in Reading will hopefully release me, at least for a time. I do not run from my problems, Kitty, but seek only a time and place for restoration.
I beg you to write to me, especially about the happy events upcoming—the Harvest Ball, any romantic outcomes from that event, and of course the new Darcy and Wyndham babies.
With fond regards,
Julia
* * *
Her eyes afire, Kitty tossed the letter aside and fled the room.
≈
Owen came to call one morning whilst Lizzy was resting and Georgiana was with her music master.
He and Kitty met in the drawing room. Making conversation, he asked, “How is Miss Stapleton? What do you hear from Reading?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Owen turned to her in surprise.
“I do not expect to hear from her. I made no reply to her bird-witted note. I had nothing to say—at least nothing civil. How could she leave like that? Without saying goodbye? I thought she was my friend.”
“And what kind of friend have you been to her, refusing to respond? Refusing to lend support in a most difficult time? Miss Bennet, I would not have thought it possible.”
Her eyes kindled and she raised her chin.
“What do you know of it anyway, Mr. Owen? If she is so special to you, perhaps you should write to her. It is, after all, your brother who caused her to leave.”
She regretted her harsh words the moment she saw the pain in Owen’s eyes. Looking at the floor in confusion, she muttered, “There was, after all, nothing I could do to ease her pain.”
Owen walked to the window. After staring out for a time he returned and sat next to her. In a carefully measured voice he spoke.
“Miss Bennet, I ask that you consider what Miss Stapleton has done, and hold it next to what you have done.”
“Me?” she asked, stupefied.
“Yes, you,” he said quietly.
All Kitty could do was stare at him.
“Think what brought you here to Derbyshire to visit your sister. Was it not angst? Frustration? Did not painful memories—although of a different kind—surround you everywhere you looked? Did you not seek a setting of neutral ground? A place where you could be free of those memories for a time? A place to heal and start afresh?”
Kitty’s eyes burned with insistent tears that she could not blink away.
“That is all Miss Stapleton seeks. A fresh start—with a lively sister to support her, just as you have here. A place where her memories don’t stare her in the face at every turn. A place that will allow her to heal from all that has distressed her, and from troubles that occurred even before you came into our midst. How can you deny your friend the same solace you sought for yourself, and even now continue to enjoy?”
“I do not know what she wrote you, Miss Bennet, but I beg you to reconsider. Do not add to Miss Stapleton’s pain. I believe—truly I do—” he said, looking her square in the face, “that you have a kind heart. Let it soften; offer comfort to your friend.”
With a long last look, he strode from the room, leaving Kitty to sort a jumble of memories, feelings, and tears.
She returned to her room and found the letter. After a deep breath, she read it again, then pressed the letter to her heart as tears of sympathy for her friend spilled from her eyes—along with tears of regret for her own hardness of heart. She was struck by their similarity of situation. She, too, had been unable to find comfort in Hertfordshire where everyone associated her with Lydia. Yes, she did understand, most poignantly. A new place and situation was just what she had found at Pemberley.
Would she or Julia ever return to their childhood homes? What was it Matilda had said? ‘As ladies, we have always expected our entire lives to change one day.’ Kitty had not given that serious thought then, but it rang true now. In leaving home, she and Julia had each made a powerful choice in pursuit of happiness. And each had a sister nearby for comfort. They were both very fortunate indeed.
She pulled out her writing desk.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Kitty was restless in spite of all her new duties and interests. Nothing on her breakfast plate could tempt her.
Lizzy’s face held a bemused expression.
“How are the arrangements coming? Are we ready for another ball?”
“We are. Though I admit I had no idea how much work went into such an event. I had thought only of the dancing and the gowns and having enough suitable partners.” She leaned back in her chair and sighed.
“Then what is it? Why are you so agitated?”
“I cannot say. This fine weather beckons me out of doors.”
Lizzy smiled languidly. “I do understand. I miss my own long autumn rambles this year. They have become, instead, short autumn waddles.” They both laughed heartily. “Much much less satisfying; but I am determined to continue waddling for as long as I can, and try to appease myself with the picture of a healthy baby in my arms soon.”
“Oh, Lizzy, are you at all afraid? Mama used to tell such dreadful stories …”
Lizzy pursed her lips. “Any sensible person would, of course, be a little afraid. Are you not a little afraid each time you take a jump on horseback?”
Kitty nodded.
“But I am also practical. Babies are born every day and I daresay the majority of situations turn out well. Our family has a good record. So I shall hold to that positive view.”
They sat in silence for a time, each lost in her own thoughts. Lizzy finished her tea and set down her cup.
“Well, Kitty, if the plans are all in hand, there is nothing to keep you indoors. Georgiana is in the music room. And Mr. Benjamin will likely be along soon for his daily visit. I believe he returned late yesterday from Matlock. Be off. Enjoy yourself. And take care to tell Mr. Connor where you will ride, so you can be fetched immediately should there be an emergency—such as a shortage of cakes!”
Kitty laughed and patted Lizzy’s shoulder.
“I certainly shall.”
≈
Johnny saluted Kitty as she approached the stable yard.
“Good afternoon, Johnny,” she said, waving her hand in reply. “It is a fine day.”
Cara nickered at the sound of Kitty’s voice and trotted to the fence for a caress and a piece of carrot.
“’Tis indeed, Miss Bennet,” he said with a bright smile. “I expected you at every moment. The arena today, or will it be a hack out?”
“I am in the mood to see rocks and trees today, Johnny. Are you available to accompany me?”
“Lemme ask Mr. Connor, but I think yes.” He led a horse into the barn and emerged in a few minutes with Cara’s halter.
“I can be spared for a few hours, Miss Bennet. Shall that be long enough?”
“That will be perfect. If I am not tired, I shall finish with some schooling in the arena, although Cara much prefers the bridle path.”
“That she does, Miss; that she does.”
He placed the halter on Cara, then Kitty opened the gate, stroking the mare as she passed through it.
“Will it be the sidesaddle today, Miss?”
“No. I have become quite spoilt, and much prefer the standard saddle. We are not likely to meet anyone on the paths. I shall join you at the mounting block in a moment.”
“As you wish.” His eyes danced merrily.
Kitty thought him in an especially good mood. But who could not be on such a lovely day? She pulled on her breeches in the darkness of the stall, tied up her skirt, and walked to the mounting block. Johnny held her off stirrup as she mounted, swinging her right leg deftly over the horse and settling lightly in the saddle.
Mr. Connor walked up, his eyes twinkling as usual.
“Where d’ye go today, Miss Bennet?”
She looked at Johnny. “I am not particular. What do you suggest?”
“Deer Hollow?”
Kitty nodded her assent and gathered her reins.
“Deer Hollow it is.” Johnny patted the shoulder of a young stable boy standing near Mr. Connor and the child skipped off.
Mr. Connor stepped up and stroked Cara on the neck.
“Splendid, Miss. Have a lovely ride. And Johnny, keep a good eye out, lad.”
“I shall.” Johnny swung onto his horse, tipped his hat, and they were off.
The path to Deer Hollow led to the south. Johnny was always an agreeable riding companion and escort. At times he would lead; at other times he would follow. He could keep up a cheerful conversation if desired; but he was also sensible of the value of quiet reflection and seemed to enjoy that as much as Kitty did.
They spoke together as they rode side by side.
“Johnny, what does a young man such as yourself think of the Harvest Ball?”
“All are grateful for the ball being held again. ’Twas long a tradition, and I’m told great
ly missed during the sad times of old Mr. Darcy’s illness and that what followed. When the harvest is good, there is much cause for celebration—and relief.”
“I have learnt that from coordinating with Mr. Sawyer and his wife for the event.”
Johnny looked at Kitty with a quizzical eye.
“My sister put me in charge of the event this year. It is part of my training to become mistress of a house, should that ever happen. And, in Lizzy’s condition, it would be trying for her to manage so much. I have enjoyed doing it.” She fell silent for a moment and cast a keen eye on Johnny.
“But I was asking particularly about the dance. Do you often have dances in the village? Will your sister attend? And you—do you have a particular young lady you hope to dance with?” She flashed him a mischievous grin.
He tried to sound calm, but his flushing face gave him away.
“We do not often have dances. Sometimes after a wedding. Aye, now that my sister is back in health, she is most excited for this dance. ’Tis good to see her so happy.”
Kitty looked at him expectantly; he had not yet answered her completely.
Johnny cleared his throat and his ears went red.
“As for me, Miss … ah, well there may be one young lady …”
“Aha! Good for you, Johnny. If you please, tell me about her.”
Their conversation carried on as they passed through the orchard. Once below it, the path narrowed and Kitty was content to follow Johnny, relaxing to the rocking rhythm of Cara’s movement whilst gazing at the scenery. Many of the trees had turned color, heralding the change of season. What trees might she be observing next year at this time? Not likely Pemberley’s. A visit that long would surely impose too much on her sister’s generous nature. But the idea of being back at Longbourn was unsettling so she pushed it aside. She would not let such thoughts dampen her enjoyment of this day.
Her Summer at Pemberley Page 34
