Second Glances: A Tale of Less Pride and Prejudice Continues (Tales of Less Pride and Prejudice)

Second Glances A Tale of Less Pride & Prejudice Continues

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2012 Alexa Adams

V1.0

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Special thanks to my family for their support, to one “Ms. Dawn” for suggesting the title, to Jennifer Becton for the horse advice, to John C. Bielik for the 19th century chemistry lesson, and to the entire thriving community of Janeites online, without whom this book would not exist. Particular mention must be made of Meredith Esparza, Maria Grazie, Jane Odiwe, Laurel Ann Nattress, and Emma Hox, all of whom provided supportive words when I was most in need.

How easy it is to trespass upon the dead! You have no ability to defend yourself, and here I am posed to turn this convenient state of affairs to good measure. I will not repeat my previous justifications, offered with sincere humility and good intentions at the time, for now such words would stink of hypocrisy. Dare I apologize for that which I do with great intention and for little reason more than my own personal amusement? No. I cannot find the gall.

Were you with us still, Darcy, Elizabeth, and all who attend them could rest safely in your own, motherly hands, instead of being tossed about so unceremoniously by those of us who pen such works as this. The situation is most unfair, but we must have more Bennets and Bingleys, more Collinses and de Bourghs, and all that we who truly love you can do to mitigate our transgressions is to try and honor your memory, even as we infringe upon it. You see, we are selfish and simply cannot help ourselves, and as “there is no hope for a cure”, to utilize your own words, you must forgive us.

Today I offer for your inspection, perhaps even approval, one Sir James Stratton. To again borrow your words, and from where you have been most often generous, “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.” Should a gentleman of said description be so contrary as to defy this edict, his friends will feel perfectly at liberty to interest themselves on his behalf, and amply justified they will consider even the most intrusive interference, too. So thought Sir James. Position and wealth are largely considered blessings, but as both were attained through the sacrifice of a beloved father, Sir James rather regarded them as burdens. Since inheriting he avoided society, impatient with those who valued him for wealth and position alone. It was his vast preference to remain cloistered at Teggington, interesting himself in his estate and stables, seeking diversion in travel, and only mixing with English society as needed. Nevertheless, his friends would see him married, and such seclusion was not to be tolerated. Maybe, perhaps, if there were a charming daughter of the neighboring house, or another young lady in the area to whom he might attach himself, a season in London would not be of the utmost necessity, but no such ready damsels existed. Thus came the assaults, every person dear to him united in their cause. Some came at the question with care, pestering him with vague hints and suggestions, while others attacked directly, charging him at every opportunity with his duty and barraging him with their assistance. Though the latter approach was decidedly more provoking, he had to acknowledge it more effective, a thought bestirred by a letter from his aunt, Augusta Westingham, a leader of this second camp:

Barsington, Feb. 17

My Dear Sir James,

While I am not one to credit gossip, news of your recent escapade upon an unstable creature has caused me no small degree of alarm. My dear nephew, can you really have taken such an unwarranted risk? Am I to see the home I grew up in pass to virtual strangers, all because you will insist on hazarding your life before securing your patrimony? The entire fate of the Stratton family rests in your hands: do not be cavalier about your duty!

If you must continue at trying to break your neck, at least beget a child first – perhaps two, for good measure – and for that you must marry posthaste, as heaven knows you will soon be engaged in some new escapade. Despite my laments, it’s what I always liked about you, James. You keep life interesting, and I was always one for a bit of adventure: the spice and flavor of variety. As Cowper further wrote of there being nothing “in the vale of life half so delightful as a wife”, we can be sure he too would urge you to savor this epicurean delight with all expediency.

It is to this end that I have invited several dear friends, all mothers of eminently eligible ladies, to a house party the second week in March. Your friend Mr. Brooks, who was so kind as to call this morning as he was passing through the area, assures me this will provide more than enough time for you to fully heal. If none of these ladies capture your heart, you will continue on to London for the season, where an endless number of young ladies will be sure to compete for your attention. I know not on what grounds you could possibly object! There can be no excuse for further delay.

Your affectionate aunt,

Augusta Westingham

Sir James sighed. Simon would betray him to his aunt. He was certain his friend had acted with the best of intentions, but being perfectly guileless sometimes led him to share that which need not be said. Nevertheless, he knew Aunt Augusta to be correct, however little he welcomed her involvement in his affairs, and saw no reason to resist her summons. If her house party produced just the right lady, all the better for him, but he would choose his own bride, not have one selected for him. And if, in the meantime, his fancy drove him to ride another unbroken horse, he would just have to do his very best to preserve his neck. It would not do to prove her right, after all, for if there were anyone who could gloat beyond the barrier of death, it would be Augusta Westingham.

“A rather thick letter for you, Miss Bennet. It must be at least four sheets. You will soon run out of pin money if you continue to maintain such verbose correspondents,” Mrs. Rivers chided her favorite at the breakfast table.

“Oh!” Kitty Bennet exclaimed. “It is from Miss Darcy. May I take it to Sydney Gardens to read? It is such a lovely day, and this weather cannot possibly last.”

“As you have no lessons scheduled until later this morning, I see no reason why a walk would not be most beneficial. As Abby has the morning off, you must take Miss Lydia with you, of course.”

The subject of this condition looked up from the far end of the table, where she and three other young ladies had been having a secretive conversation all their own. “I cannot attend Kitty without Miss Burke. She and I have important business to discuss.”

Mrs. Rivers narrowed suspicious eyes in their direction. “No more mischief, I presume?”

“None at all, Mrs. Rivers!” proclaimed an injured Miss Burke, a pretty, vivacious girl, and Lydia Bennet’s closest associate. “I think a walk would be just the thing. Miss Lydia and I only wish to discuss the latest fashions. Miss Lenton has the newest plates, you know, and we finally had our turn to study them last night.”

“Important business, indeed.” Mrs. Rivers tone was dismissive, but her eyes revealed her amusement. “Very well. Mind you all stay together, and be back no later than one, or Signore Falcione will be most put out.”

“Yes ma’am,” all three ladies chanted, leaving the table to dress for their outing. It was not long before they were out the door, enjoying the unseasonable warmth and unexpected freedom.

While they journeyed the easy mile from Mrs. Rivers’ establishment to Sidney Gardens, the ladies maintained their headmistress’ dictate to remain together, but it was not long after they reached the gardens that Miss Burke and Lydia broke off from Kitty in order to pursue their private conversation, leaving their companion on a nearby bench. Kitty had very little faith in the notion that Letitia Burke and her younger sister were actually discussing fashion, for such conversation would not require the degree of secrecy they seemed determined to maintain. It was far more likely they were planning some practical joke or another, like hiding Miss Carson’s workbag from her again. Kitty cared little for their antics and was happy to be left alone with her letter.

It was a very long missive. Georgiana Darcy had filled each page so closely with relations of her activities in London, where she was spending her first season, that even her elegant handwriting was difficult to decipher. Kitty enjoyed every detail about the balls and routs she had been attending, closing her eyes and dreaming of being in the elegant rooms with Georgiana, just as fashionably dressed. In this imaginative state of mind, Kitty had to reread the final paragraph several times before she felt convinced of its reality:

My cousin, Lady Annabelle Fitzwilliam, as you know, has been a huge comfort to me throughout this ordeal. Had it not been for her presence, I do not know how I should have fared these past few weeks. My presentation, without her companionship, would have been horribly daunting. So when it was revealed that poor Annabelle had contracted the measles, you can surely understand my distress. I do feel terrible for my cousin, certainly, but self-interest overrides sympathy, and my greatest concern has been how lonely I shall be for the rest of this season, having to attend all these overwhelming events without the sympathy of companion my own age and situation. Thus it is decided, assuming you consent, that due to the excellent reports from Mrs. Rivers regarding your progress, now is time to end your formal education that you might join us in London to share the remainder of the season with me. What do you think, my dear Kitty? I profess your companionship is even more desirable to me than Annabelle’s, with whom I have never been very close. Please say you will join us! Lizzy says she will see to your wardrobe once you get here, and my brother has already written to Mrs. Rivers regarding travel arrangements. We hope you will be with us before Lady Day, as we are invited to a great ball that evening that I want you to attend. Do not leave me in suspense, but write your answer as soon as you are able. I await your response most anxiously!

Your impatient friend,

Georgiana Darcy

“London!” Kitty gasped aloud, as the full impact of the invitation made itself felt. “I must write immediately!” and looking around herself, she realized that neither Lydia nor Miss Burke were anywhere insight.

She rose quickly, setting off in the direction she had seen them take. Soon she spotted both ladies, engaged in animated conversation with a young man she did not know. Quickening her pace, she was just within a close enough distance to the trio to overhear Lydia say, “Here comes my sister. Now we shall have no more fun.”

Kitty nearly froze in the shock of those words. She and Lydia, once inseparable, had grown apart in the year they had spent in Bath, the latter having easily made friends amongst the girl’s her own age, while Kitty suffered the uncomfortable distinction of being the eldest pupil in Mrs. Rivers’ care, but yet she had never suspected that she was regarded by the other as a nuisance. The knowledge hurt, but the past year had brought Kitty ample instruction on the concealment of such emotion, and she continued onward, established herself as part of their group, and awaited the introductions.

“Miss Bennet, may I present Mr. Beaumont? His family and mine have long been friends, and we grew up quite like brother and sister. This, of course, is Miss Lydia’s sister.”