Second Glances: A Tale of Less Pride and Prejudice Continues (Tales of Less Pride and Prejudice) (6 page)

“Get up!” she dictated while shaking him awake. “I have something to tell you.”

“Good God, Caroline! What time is it?” were the disoriented George Wickham’s first words, as he looked with irritation upon his wife.

“Almost three o’clock.”

“No? It can’t be.” He sat up and rubbed his head. “What is it that you want?”

“I am to have a guest next Monday morning,” she declared boastfully.

He sat up straighter, suddenly intrigued. “Not Mrs. Darcy?”

“No,” she responded testily, irritated that he was off mark. His guess was particularly galling since it was with that lady whom Caroline had been attempting, unsuccessfully, to establish a social intercourse. “How will one Miss Bennet suit our purposes, Mr. Wickham? Have I not done well?”

“My dear Caroline! That is magnificent! Miss Lydia will be easier to befriend, and, now that I think of it, is far more to the purpose than any of her sisters. But when did she leave Bath?”

“Not Lydia, George! Dear me! If she were here, she would be of no use to us at all! No – we must hope she remains just were she is, making love to Mr. Beaumont. It is Miss Catherine Bennet who has come to town, and as for being to the purpose, she’s ideal. Once she and I are fast friends, Mrs. Darcy will soon forgive me all those silly little snubs, and then she will convince Mr. Darcy to forgive you!”

Wickham’s brow contracted. “The one they call Kitty? I’m not sure I have ever exchanged two words with her.”

“Catherine used to appear cut from the same mold as Lydia, but Mrs. Rivers certainly deserves some credit for her work, as she is vastly improved. I did not recognize her at first. I think her every bit as pretty as Eliza, without that general air of impertinence. She should do quite well this season, I have little doubt, and she is Miss Darcy’s bosom friend.”

Wickham’s face evinced growing pleasure as he listened to this description. “And when Miss Lydia becomes too forward, Miss Bennet will be just the person to take our warning to the Darcys, for she would not want anything scandalous to injure her opportunities to marry just as well, if not better, than her sisters. How perfect!”

“And you have yet to hear the best part. She is staying with the Darcys. I wonder that Jane never mentioned it.”

He smirked. “For all of Mrs. Bingley’s sweetness, she has not what one would call an open disposition. I think there is much she does not share with you, particularly regarding the Darcys.”

Caroline looked provoked. “Yes, she is rather silent about her grand relations, and Charles makes sure we are never in their company when the Darcys visit. Such a fuss about a silly infatuation! I wonder that Miss Darcy can be so unforgiving.”

Mr. Wickham did not seize upon this opportunity to correct his wife’s ongoing misconceptions, instilled by himself, regarding the true cause of the fissure between himself and the Darcys, merely pointing out that he and Darcy had their long standing disagreements. “Together the siblings fuel the other’s dislike of me, always reminding each other of the many grievances they lay at my door.”

“Well! We shall just have to properly motivate them to overcome old prejudices by showing them what a very desirable companion you can be! I cannot imagine it shall really prove so difficult, especially once Catherine and I become great friends. You are lucky, George, to have a wife educated as I have been: one who knows how best to please. We shall be dancing at Pemberley on Twelfth Night, quite a part of the family, I have not the least doubt. I was bred to just such a task as this.”

“I hate to remind you, my love, but my education was just as genteel, and much more to the point, then that provided by your seminary.”Mr. Wickham also had good reason to believe the undertaking would not be so easy as Caroline predicted, but again he chose not to share his thoughts. There was no reason for her to know the full extent of the obstacles that lay in her path to Pemberley.

Kitty was dismayed when Georgiana informed her she was to dance the first set with Sir James. She had no recollection of his ever asking her, having only mumbled oblique responses to whatever was said during that seemingly endless morning call, and was quite certain that it would ruin all her pleasure in the evening. She even went so far as to mumble some weak complaints of a headache, which Georgiana refused to hear. Rallying her friend by reminding her how very well she looked, she hurried her down the stairs, where their party waited to enter the carriage, confident that once Kitty was surrounded by the infectious atmosphere of a ball, she would have a well enough time indeed. By the time they left the cloakroom, Kitty was beginning to agree. Never had she been to such a large private ball, and she found the crush, of which Mr. Darcy complained, exhilarating. The gentlemen were exquisite in their evening dress, the ladies’ gowns magnificent, and Kitty whispered her hundredth thanks to Elizabeth for seeing to her wardrobe. The elder sister squeezed the younger’s hand reassuringly.

“Look at her, there! In all the flush of her first London ball,” Sir James said to Mr. Brooks from across the crowded room. “Have I mentioned she is magnificent?”

“Perhaps ten, maybe twenty times,” came the bored reply. “I am going to greet Miss Darcy.” Mr. Brooks headed across the room while Sir James remained in place, watching Kitty’s reactions. He knew the precise moment she spotted him, for her face fell, and she quickly turned away. It was not the response he had hoped for, but he was determined to change her opinion of him.

Kitty watched nervously from the corner of her eye as Sir James advanced upon their party. Focusing on greeting Mr. Brooks and paying Georgiana’s beau the attention he warranted, she tried to ignore the nervous flutterings that filled her person. Elizabeth, perceiving her sister’s unease, touched her shoulder in concern. “Is it too warm in here for you, my dear?”

“No, but I am afraid I may have inherited my mother’s nervous condition. I think I must be having palpitations.”

Elizabeth concealed her humor. “Are you able to dance?”

Kitty steeled herself. “I think so,” and as Sir James made his bow, she responded creditably, allowing him to lead her towards the forming set.

“Rather like sending her off to face the lions, was it not?” commented Mr. Darcy.

“She turned a sickly shade when he approached, did you notice?”

“I certainly did. I also observed Sir James. Elizabeth, I have known that man all his life, and he barely had two words for me in greeting. He must be besotted! Could it have been a case of love at first sight? I certainly began to esteem you the very moment we met.”

“Esteem, yes, but as I recall it was some weeks before you equated that sensation with love, and that was with the aid of my convivial companionship. Kitty could not bring herself to even look at him the other morning, let alone charm him with her manners.”

“Yet she does not appear to be at a loss for words now.”

It was true. Kitty and Sir James were engaged in as intense an exchange as the intricacies of the dance permitted. They had begun the set in silence, Sir James first forays into polite conversation being met with definitive rebuttals. As Kitty could not pretend to pleasantly discuss the weather, she tried to focus all her attention on the dance, forbidding her mind to notice what an excellent performer Sir James was, how handsome he looked in evening dress, or the slight scent of sandalwood she could just detect whenever they met. Her policy seemed to be working when he changed his tactics, eschewing small talk in favor of the direct approach: “Tell me, Miss Bennet, is it your habit to seek to entrance susceptible young men by throwing yourself in front of their horses, or am I your only victim?”

Kitty blushed fiercely but kept her composure. “You know very well, Sir James, that it was through no fault of mine that we suffered our late encounter.”

“Accountability aside, do you deny your triumph? I am quite overcome by your charms, you know.”

She glared at him suspiciously, “I have grave doubts as to the nature of your susceptibility.”

He laughed, “Now I see the fiery young lady who terrified my horses! Your unaccustomed silence had me wondering if I wasn’t mistaken in your identity, and Miss Bennet, sister to Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, only bore a striking resemblance to the apparition that spooked my horses, right in the middle of one of Bath’s main crossings.” She glared at him, and they parted in the dance.

“I had begun to wonder if it wasn’t an encounter with Artemis I had experienced,” he resumed, “quite like a Greek hero, and I cannot tell you how pleased I am to have all such fears laid aside. Here you are, in the flesh!”

“Oh, yes, here I am! Delight in this opportunity of ridiculing me further as much as you like, for I can easily perceive that you had not near enough of the treat the other day.”

“I’m not sure I would attribute my delight to ridicule, as you term it, but I cannot deny that I am inordinately pleased to spar with you once again.”

“You enjoy making young ladies uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable? Surely not! I can promise you, Miss Bennet, that if that has been my affect, it was entirely unintentional. I am something of an eccentric, you know, but I can assure you I have no wish to do anything but see to your happiness.”

“This is a very unusual conversation, sir!” she declared, as they again parted.

“I know I have been a bit abrupt, Miss Bennet, but I thought it best to speak frankly to you, as we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot.”

“Rather an understatement, don’t you think? You nearly killed me!”

“Thank goodness I did not!” he declared with such intensity that she laughed.

“You cannot be serious, can you?”

He looked at her with bewildered amusement. “Never have I been more so!”

“I see you are prone to exaggeration! I’ll have you know, Sir James, that I am familiar with eccentrics, having been reared by one, and I will not be bamboozled by you, so you need not even try,” she said with finality, as if the subject were quite closed.

“But I am sincere, Miss Bennet, I assure you!”

“Do you not see how impossible that is to believe?” she replied, and the set came to an end.

As he led her from the floor, he whispered, “Then I shall just have to strive to convince you.”

Returning Kitty to her guardians’ custody, Sir James shared a few words of camaraderie with Mr. Darcy before asking Georgiana to dance. Mr. Brooks, in turn, claimed Kitty’s hand, and the Darcys, who had sat out the first, also joined the forming line. Having gotten past the dreaded dance with Sir James, Kitty felt she could relax and enjoy herself, and eager to make up for her neglect of Georgiana’s interests, Mr. Brooks was left to wonder how his partner could be the withdrawn creature he had met earlier in the week. Kitty was a ready conversationalist; though she lacked Elizabeth’s quick wit, she was able to speak easily on a variety of subjects. It was not long before Mr. Brooks was able to discern those qualities that both Miss Darcy and Sir James valued in this surprisingly unassuming young lady. It was he who introduced the subject of houses, knowing only that Longbourn was a small estate, and was charmed by the candid naivety with which Kitty discussed her family’s circumstances, as well as her own prospects. A sister of Mrs. Darcy need not broadcast her almost portionless state, but Kitty frankly acknowledged the predicament, stating truthfully: “So you see, Mr. Brooks, I have little to recommend me but my charm, and though I have a smaller share of that commodity than most of my sisters, I am certain that I do have more than Mary, and even she made a very good match, though I admit to hoping for something better than Mr. Collins.”

“Is Mr. Collins so very bad?”

“Not so very bad, I suppose, for a Rector.”

He laughed. “Is there something very wrong with marrying a Rector?”

“My sister Lydia thinks so, but I disagree. She says she would not have had him, had it been she he had proposed to, but I think I must have accepted him, were it me, as Longbourn is entailed to him,” she sighed. “But I am very happy to not have been asked. He and Mary are quite perfect together, you know.”

“No. I did not.”

She nodded seriously, “They are, I assure you, and a lady really must not be forced to marry when she is so disinclined as to not be able to persuade herself to the notion. And if Mr. Collins were to have been rejected, it must have been very unpleasant for my family, but I think we would have somehow carried on regardless, don’t you?”

“Most certainly!” he smiled.

“But we are fortunate that was not the case. With the birth of Master Bennet-Collins late last year, we all now have the comfort of knowing the estate will remain in the family. My mother is quite relieved. But I mustn’t run on so about myself! Mrs. Rivers would be appalled. Please tell me what Cornwall is like? Miss Darcy has been telling me all about it. I think it must be beautiful, but in an unreal, almost intimidating manner, like a fairytale. One would not wish to live in such a place. Do you like it?”

“Very much!” he laughed. “The scenery is dramatic and prone to play upon the senses, but I have never encountered anything sinister or monstrous, I assure you. The people possess the same superstitions as all others do, telling their tales of local enchantments, but it is all nonsense. I think Turnley the most wonderful place in the world, except perhaps Teggington.”

“Teggington?”