The Road to Pemberley (26 page)

“This is not to be borne. I have become the unwanted spinster sister. They will cart me from house to house as they need help with their children. I will be the pitied aunt,” Kitty huffed as she skirted past a felled tree.

And that was the rub of it. Kitty found herself utterly alone in the world. The outcast. The last of five sisters to be married. Her younger sister, Lydia, had married quickly, and even plain and dreary Mary was lately wed. How could Mary have found a husband before she, Kitty, had?

“I am not so changeable,” she muttered. “I just don't know myself.” It was cold, but she wasn't ready to return to the house yet, so she pressed onward despite her numb toes.

Kitty's dark mood continued as she cleared the woods and walked into a large overgrown pasture. Tall grasses and wild heather swayed in an enchanting dance with the wind. Unassuming homes stood guard on either side of the field, and the distant horizon was dotted with the smaller dwellings of the workers of Lambton and those who made their living at Pemberley. One stone home stood out from the others on a well-kept piece of land to the north of the field. It drew Kitty's notice because it had a more genteel look than the others, much like her papa's home.

Turning to walk the path toward Lambton, Kitty's foot caught, as if someone had seized it between their hands. Her whole body lurched forward, and she tumbled with a great sloshing sound onto the ground.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Kitty was only momentarily stunned before sitting back up. Her foot was wedged tightly where it had become stuck, so much so that she had to use her hands to jerk her left foot out of the offending foxhole. She was wet through and through, and
speckled with mud. Biting her bottom lip, Kitty pressed her palms to the ground and rose on shaky legs. She tested putting weight on her left foot, and promptly crumbled to the ground again.

Smacking a puddle with her fist, she let out an agitated, “Well done, Kitty! You've made a real fool of yourself!”

She couldn't rightly sit there all day, nor was crawling an option, so she rose again, albeit more slowly and then gingerly hobbled forward. Wincing, Kitty turned back in the direction of Pemberley and walked on—as much as a walk as it could be called. She would take a step with her right foot and do a quick little hop with her left, plant the right and dangle the left for a moment and then repeat. At that rate, it would be nightfall before she even got into the woods.

“Miss! Miss, you are unwell.”

Kitty was in the left-foot-dangle-stage, and the man calling to her in close proximity caused her to lose her balance again.

He ran forward and Kitty glanced up. The man wore a simple single-breasted black frock coat, and as he leaned over her, his hat tipped off, revealing butterscotch-colored hair tinged with red.

“Miss, I was watching you walk just now, and I fear you are either foxed or injured.”

“Sir, I assure you I am not, nor have I ever been foxed in my life. I do not take strong drink. I did, however, succeed at lodging my foot in a foxhole.”

The man's lips twitched with a suppressed smile. “Ah, so it would seem you were foxed in quite another way, then.”

Kitty crossed her arms and peered up at the stranger, and in her normal fashion—which always greatly shamed her two eldest sisters—she answered with the first thought that came to her head: “Sir, I must know if your purpose will be to continue to jest or to assist me in some way.”

The man broke into a full smile, and it had the effect of making Kitty feel a little less chilled to the bone. Leaning over, he offered his hand. “Mr. Denton at your service, Miss.”

Kitty grasped his hand, her cheeks flaming when she realized that hers were gloveless. What must Mr. Denton think of her? Breaking contact the moment she was on her feet, Kitty smiled bravely, though her ankle hurt like the blazes.

“Thank you, Mr. Denton. You have been most helpful. And now I must return home.” Kitty turned, trying to hide the grimace on her face as she put weight on her foot, but Mr. Denton, seeming to finally completely take in her circumstances, stopped her.

“I would be remiss in my duties as a clergyman…my duties as a gentleman…if I did not ascertain how you came to be in this situation. Has someone…you can tell me, Miss…has someone used you ill and left you here?” His voice was reassuring.

“Mr. Denton. I feel I have been used ill, but not as you imagine. If I have been hurt by someone, it has not been bodily. My only physical aliment is a pained ankle, which I caused myself, and now I must get back to Pemberley.”

“Pemberley? Then you are—”

“Mrs. Darcy's sister. Miss Bennet.”

“Miss Bennet, you will have to forgive the impropriety, but I feel I must carry you back to Pemberley. I could hardly leave the sister of Mrs. Darcy in such a state—or any person, really. And in truth, I have business with Mr. Darcy and was on my way to the estate when I came upon you.”

Kitty had colored before; now the flush grew infinitely deeper. She peeked up into his eyes—impossibly blue eyes. They were a remarkable mixture of many different shades and depths of blue, as if the sea and sky met at the horizon in them.

“I couldn't possibly allow you,” Kitty answered.

“Miss Bennet. My gig has a broken wheel at the moment, or else I would have been in it. You will be perfectly safe with me, I promise.”

He took a step toward her and muttered. “Poor dear, you're wet through.” Before she realized what he was doing, Mr. Denton removed his coat and placed it about her shoulders. Then he reached and picked her up in his arms without ceremony.

Denton moved swiftly, her weight not seeming to burden him in the least. Kitty felt a small semblance of shame because she found herself enjoying being carried a man. Throughout her whole life, she had hugged her sisters and mother, and they had been very soft—their bodies melding with an embrace. Being held by Mr. Denton was a much different feeling. She had rarely hugged her father, and had never been this close to any man before. Her body was being carried so snugly against him she couldn't help but realize how firm his chest and arms were, and it struck her that it was nice to cling to someone so solid.

Kitty suddenly envied her married sisters in a way she never had before. How inexpressibly nice it would be to lean against the strength of a man in times when life seemed too much to bear. How wonderful it felt to be surrounded by someone else and depend that they would take care of her.

Kitty sighed.

Mr. Denton's deep rumble of laughter snapped her back to reality. “Comfortable?” Catching her gaze, he quirked an eyebrow.

The thud of approaching hooves saved Kitty from having to supply an answer. A giant black horse bearing a similarly tall and dark rider reared fifteen paces in front of them. The rider reined in his steed and dropped to the ground, exploding toward them.

“Mr. Darcy!” Kitty yelped.

“Catherine? That cannot be you!” Darcy's eyebrows dove into a deep V as his eyes surveyed the scene before him. “What happened here?” His gaze flicked to Denton and he growled, “Do not make me regret giving you the benefice.”

“Do not cast such a grave look my way, Darcy. Miss Bennet tripped. I believe her ankle is compromised.”

The line between Darcy's eyes became more pronounced as he stared at Denton. “Indeed. I will unburden you of her.” Before Kitty could protest, she was passed from Denton to Darcy.

“I was on my way to speak with you on a church matter, but I will come back tomorrow. Miss Bennet, I pray you will be mending by then.” Denton bowed and turned to leave, but Darcy called him back.

“It seems I didn't think this through. I mean to ride back with her. You'll have to hand her up to me.” Darcy passed Kitty back to Denton, and then clucked to his horse.

“Mr. Darcy, I cannot possibly ride with you. That horse is enormous and my riding is nothing to boast about,” Kitty protested as Darcy swung up onto the great black beast.

“Nonsense. Tabor is fine under my command.” Darcy reached out as Denton lifted Kitty up to him, placing her in front of himself. Darcy wrapped an arm around her and took up the reins in the other. He tipped his head to Mr. Denton and nudged Tabor to movement.

“Whatever were you doing outside, Catherine?” Darcy's tone was clipped.

“What were
you
doing out?” Kitty shot back.

“Looking for you.”

“Are you in earnest?” Kitty asked. Only an hour earlier, he had been calling her an unwanted guest, so why would he come out in the damp to find her?
Send a servant to search.

“Of course. The moment Lark informed me you had fled the house, I came immediately.”

“Why didn't you send a servant after me?”

Darcy's groom, Barlow, stepped out of the stables and collected Tabor as Darcy helped Kitty down. The master of the estate strode with her in his arms toward the house. He began to speak again, his words more gentle than before. “You are my sister. I could do nothing but come after you myself.”

“Lizzy, there is something I want to ask you. Promise you will hear me out?” Kitty spoke from her place on the settee. She was glad to be alone with her sister. Being in the same room as Mr. Darcy on the same day that he had carried her mud-caked self into the house would have only made her feel more embarrassed. Kitty knew the events of the morning had only confirmed in their minds how foolish she was.

“Speak at your leisure.” Elizabeth sat with a book open on her lap.

“I know you and Mr. Darcy seldom use your townhouse because you are so rarely in London.”

“That is true.”

“I was wondering, hoping, if there was any chance you could be persuaded to spend the season in London this year. And if you do, I'd be eternally thankful to you if I could go along. I long to see a true season.” There. She had said it.

Lizzy's eyebrows shot up. “Kitty, you cannot be serious. My husband and I greatly dislike London, especially during the season, and I assume you're asking us to sponsor you for it?”

“I would like to find a husband—not immediately, to be sure. But soon.”

“And we would wish the same for you, but you hardly need to go to London to find a suitable man.” Lizzy smiled and set her book down on the side table.

Kitty let her words quickly tumble from her mouth like marbles off a table. “But I do if I am going to find the sort of man I want to marry!”

Elizabeth regarded her sister. “And what sort of man would that be?”

Kitty could do little to help the long sigh that escaped. “Rich. Gloriously rich, like your husband. I want to shop on Bond Street and keep a townhouse and have as many servants as you and Jane have.”

Lizzy's smile faded. “Kitty, it is hardly likely a man that wealthy would be tempted to marry you.”

“That is unjust, Lizzy! Do you believe that only you and Jane are good enough for such men?”

“You mistake me. Remember, Jane and I did not marry for fortune, we married for love. I would love Mr. Darcy and live with him had he not a bank note in the world.”

Kitty hadn't thought of that, and it gave her a moment's pause, but suddenly she remembered her other sisters. “But I do not want to struggle like Mary and Mr. Overton either! He is only Uncle Philip's clerk and their home is
so
small.”

“Honestly, Kitty! All my letters from Mary say she wants for nothing and has never been happier in her life. This one here.” Having marched across the room, Lizzy took up the correspondence
from her desk. “She writes, ‘Each night after dinner, Mr. Overton listens to me play and sing for him, after which he praises me, saying, “Indeed, I believe I have robbed the stage of its finest talent.” We spend so many peaceful days together that I cannot imagine there used to be a time I said I would never marry.'” Lizzy thrust the letter at Kitty.

Kitty scanned the page. “Mary does not sing or play well. Mr. Overton lies.”

“No, Mr. Overton loves Mary, so to him her performance is enjoyable.”

“But I'd rather have fine carriages than someone so enamored with me that he praises me falsely.” Pursing her lips, Kitty crossed her arms. “You will not take me to London, will you?”

Mrs. Darcy shook her head. “No. And you would do well not to let Mr. Darcy hear you talk of marrying rich, because it would vex him greatly. I don't know why you even entertained the thought of London. All four of your sisters found husbands without having a season. You will, too.”