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Chapter 16

'WHAT?' Oh dear he has gone to being frustrated to really rather enraged with one simple question. Perhaps this is one of situations that Lizzy talked about - when tact is required and it does not do just to blurt out the thoughts in one's head. Judging by Thorn's reaction I guess it must be.

I wish he would stop looking at me. His fixed glare is really very off putting (I think he is trying to see inside my head again; well either that or he is trying to see if looks can really kill), especially when coupled with his rising flush, grinding teeth and clenched fists. Funnily enough though, I'm not afraid. I mean I am alone in a room with a very angry male, but I know that despite everything he would never physically hurt me. Quite strange, although I do wish that he would stare elsewhere. But these thoughts don't solve anything. What to do to make this better?

Wretched man! Stop staring! Have I a spot on my nose?

What does he want me to say?

Abruptly, Thorn starts pacing, and I relax slightly - he cannot pace and stare you see. He seems to have got his initial anger out of the way and instead is thinking, but not happy thoughts. People do not look grim or scowl when they are thinking of bunnies at Easter time, or shopping trips in London.

'How can you ask that of me?' Pardon? All right, I had realised that I wasn't going to get an answer, but I'm afraid that I don't se quite what he is getting at. I put my hand to my temple to push the confused thoughts back into my head.

'You would rather that I asked someone else?'

He stops and stares at me, this time in amazement. It is only then that I realise that he meant I was being impertinent by asking him, that it is just not done. Ah, now that makes sense! I think that on the whole I had better apologise. Still not entirely sure what for - I mean it would seem that it isn't a mystery to half of London, but never mind if it makes him happy and gives me a quieter life.

I am given no opportunity, Thorn has recollected himself and I am on the end of a strict telling off, with not a few home truths before I can so much as blink.

'No Miss Bennet, I had much rather that you make some attempt to lift your mind from the gutter of London gossip and attempt to fulfill your sister's expectations of you, instead of turning in to it's next gossip-queen. I think she would view it as little less than a tragedy if you were to be dragged into the mire by the turbaned harpies. As it is, I know not what they will think - conversing exclusively with a gentleman for above half an hour, laughing and flirting in plain view of all who may be there.' I was silenced by his opinions, so shocked that I felt no anger. He seemed to pause and take stock for a moment. He then came over and took my hand, before continuing in a lower, gentler tone of voice.

'You have a great capacity for kindness, and liveliness Catherine I would not see that interpreted as fastness - for once labeled so, you will find it impossible to doff, no matter how appropriate it is to you. And for myself...' He paused again, and let go of my hand. When he spoke again it was still in a very low tone, but the gentle note was gone, and I got the strangest impression that he changed what he was going to say.

'And for myself, my concerns are my own. You will forgive me I trust, if I do not advertise my position on each accusation of favoritism made of me so that it may be scrutinized by the London rabble. Now, I think we have made your sister wait long enough.'

He strode to the door, and opened it. I was still standing as I had been, and was trembling slightly with the shock of it all, but recollected myself and walked out of the room without so much as a glance at him. Why do these things always happen to me?

I was never happier to see Lizzy than I was that night. I couldn't forget Thorn's words, and honesty wouldn't allow me to dismiss them. The best of people and their actions are open to ridicule and misunderstandings - why just look at what we all thought of Mr. Darcy at first; so why not the silliest and the silliest of their actions? And in all honesty my past history hardly inspires confidence? Oh, what must Thorn think of me?

I pin a bright smile on my face, but find that I can't meet anyone's eyes.

'Sorry we took so long, it was all Lord Thornfields' fault.' I managed not to choke on his name, but I still couldn't bear to look at him.

'It doesn't matter,' Lizzy is quickly dismissive when I expected a witty comment. I looked at her and realised that she was all excited about something, but from the prim set of her mouth I gather that I am about to be roasted.

'Kitty, prepare yourself.'

'Why?' I refused to be impressed, but cannot seem to summon up enough energy to properly depress her pretensions.

'Something truly momentous has occurred.'

'Oh, yes - momentous.' Richard roles his eyes. My curiosity is piqued. Interest pulls me out of the doldrums and I take a closer look. I know from experience that I shall get nothing form Lizzy. Mr. Darcy is smiling and watching me intently, although his face also gives nothing away. Richard looks greatly amused, as ever. Georgie looks both scared and excited. As this is pretty much the same as she has looked all evening I do not know what to make of it all. Hmmm, well I refuse to commit myself for I shall probably be the butt of a joke. Wisely and slow, Kitty. Now who said that?

'Oh?'

'Yes, a certain 'Lady Jersey' was at the musicale tonight.' Wisely and slow was promptly and properly forgotten.

'Lady Jersey? The Almack's patroness?' My voice becomes really very breathless, and I can see that Richard is looking heartily amused and feels the need to quip - 'there is another one?' But I find it quite easy to ignore him.

'Yes.'

'Lizzy!' I grow all excited and fidgety. I fix my eyes on Lizzy in the vain hope that this may make her talk faster, or that I might be able to glean information.

'Kitty!' Ah! Is there anything as provoking as a sister who has important news and refuses to share it?

'Please!' I am not above begging, but as I said - this is important - Almacks is at stake!

'Well, Lady Bellinger introduced us, and the result is....' I will hit her, I swear I will, 'that we are to receive vouchers for the next assembly!

'Oh!' A high- pitched sound comes out and I clap a hand over my mouth to stop it progressing to embarrassing proportions (I should have no such qualms if we were at home in Longbourn of further strange noises, or possibly even a celebratory dance, but in the middle of a London soiree?)

'Kitty!' Lizzy is laughing aloud at me now and I don't care!

'Almacks?' I whisper reverently.

'The hallowed turf,' interrupts a sardonic voice from behind me. 'The high point of Society.' I will not let him spoil this.

'Well no one is forcing you to go.' I turn to meet Thorn's eyes challengingly, trying to convey that I would not care. 'And you might not even get tickets!' I pointed out triumphantly, but even as I say it I realise that the Patronesses are most certainly going to issue vouchers to single earls of marriageable age with not an inconsiderable fortune, no matter how stuffy and pompous their behaviour. Thorn seems to find it greatly amusing, and his eyes and face soften to affection as they look at me. He looks about to say something, but is interrupted.

'Excuse me ladies for butting in. Thornfield? I'm off to the club, do you joining me in a game of piquet?' I looked to see who spoke and saw a gentleman of middling height in a tall blonde man in a naval uniform, I don't think that a naval uniform becomes a man as well as an army one. There is just something about the red...

'Cartwright?' Thorn strode over and shook his hand vigorously. 'I had no idea you were in the country!'

'Just in, yet to find m'land legs, but couldn't face home. Too many females.' He glared at Lizzy, Georgie and I suspiciously. Ah, I think Captain Cartwright is 'three sheets to the wind'? (Lizzy would kill me if she heard me say cant phrases like that. The Captain seemed then to recollect something and asked - 'talking of females - how is that filly of yours?' Thorn just looks incredulous, as if he were too surprised to get angry.

'WHAT?' He's been saying that rather a lot tonight!

'The grey filly, the one you bought off Jones in Southampton.' A singularly evil look crossed his face. 'What did you think I meant?' Thorn ignored him and tried to take control of the situation.

'Oh, I'm having the horse brought to London this week, actually. Shall we go to the club? Are you coming Richard?' Richard looked highly amused.

'I'm afraid I can't make it - I've a meeting with the Chief of Staff tomorrow morning.'

'Right. Darcy?'

'Thank you, but I think I'll see these ladies safely home.'

'Ah, fallen into the marriage trap have you? Not see us caught like that, eh Thorn?' The captain nudged Thorn in the ribs and winked 'significantly'.

'Alec, your view on life is always enlivening, and you are really too kind to share it with us. Now if you will excuse me I think I will drag you off before any serious damage is done. Ladies, Richard, Darcy - I will see you all tomorrow.' Thorn gave me a parting look whose meaning I refuse to even attempt to discover and so I shall label it 'enigmatic'. I haven't the least clue what it could signify, but I don't think he is annoyed at me any more. Really! Was there ever such a man for blow hot, blow cold?

Our carriage was called and we went home. My goodness, no wonder the gossip pages are always that full when you consider all that happened tonight. Well I am tired and confused, so I will sleep on it. Mama always says that things look better in the morning. I never really believed her, but she can't always be wrong. Oh! I didn't mean that. Bad Kitty - bed before you think any more bad thoughts.

I was awake quite early the following morning, and despite my late night felt fairly well rested. No one else was up, and I was quite contented just to have breakfast on my own before getting ready for my drive with Mr. Calder. He was due at half past nine - early enough to avoid the Ton, late enough to miss the trades people. I was fully ready and waiting for him at half past eight. A tad early I admit, but tiz the early bird that catches the worm and all that, and there is no one to see me.

I waited in the morning room downstairs, reading a little but thinking mostly, only the former hurt my eyes, the latter my head. As has become my norm, the subject of my thoughts was Thorn. I wasn't offended by what he had said. Hurt yes, but that was to be expected, no mostly I was puzzled. It seemed to be a very extreme reaction. In fact, he had been acting out of character from the minute we were received by Lady Bellinger, and the amazing thing was that no one commented! Indeed Mr. Darcy and Richard both accepted and I think almost expected this about face. If you ask me it is petulant and uncalled for. It doesn't hurt to be polite.

As for myself, perhaps I am overly polite and forward. And a gossip. Well, the only thing to do is guard against making a fool of myself, but I won't change myself to fit in with others. Not again, I did that with Lydia, and only grief resulted.

Lydia? I wonder if she is in London yet? Is it so very unsisterly to hope that she is not?

I heard the knocker go. It is too early to be Mr. Calder surely? I wait and could hear some gentlemanly rumbles coming from the hall. The butler then opened the door (looking as Poe-faced as ever, I wonder what it takes to make him smile?) to let in... Thorn. His entrance to today was markedly different to that of the other morning. Initially we just looked at each other, I think that each of us was uncertain how the other would react given our last meeting. Really, this will never do - I always lose staring matches.

'Hello' I am bright and cheerful, ready to forgive and forget. He is not.

'Kitty' He made a bow, then walked over and threw his hat and cane onto the sofa.

He then began pacing.

Back and forth. Back and forth, and with a black frown on his face. At first I thought this amusing as I followed his movements, turning my head to follow him. Then I wanted some conversation, and Thorn was looking troubled. If we are to be friends again then we will need to start talking.

'You will wear a hole in Lizzy's carpet.'

Thorn looks less than impressed. Then again, it is not his carpet.

Oh! Won't the wretched man stop pacing! It is becoming unbearable.

'Thorn!' he ignores me. Fine, louder then.

'THORN!!' he looks up, well finally!

'Did you come hear just to wear a hole in Lizzy's carpet, for if you did I think she would prefer it to be the one in the dining room. She is thinking of a way to get rid of it without offending Mr. Darcy you know, so if you want to make that one threadbare feel free to go ahead. But, if you came to talk about something then please get on with it instead of acting the Prima Donna.' Hah! I do believe that I have just put him in his place.

He stopped pacing and smiled at me, and I would swear that I heard him say 'Yes, Sir General, ma'am.' It wasn't very loud so I pretended that I hadn't heard and it was the first sign that he was in a better mood with me, and so I cocked an eyebrow in what I like to think of as an expectant manner. No reply - very well, I will prompt.

'Well...' This is worse than pulling teeth.

'Yes...' He is smiling! He is doing it deliberately! Ah, he has come over and is crouching in front of my chair. I think we could be getting somewhere here.

'My problem is that I have come to apologise, but I've not had a lot of practice at it and I'm a bit worried that it will be flung in my teeth.' Do I smell gossip? Stop it Kitty, bad habit.

'Who are you to apologise to?' Thorn gave me a quizzical look.

'You Kitty.'

'Oh.' Okay, I feel a bit silly now. 'But why?'

'Ah, I see that I am to get no reassurances that you won't throw me out on my ear? And why? Kitty - you do remember what I said last night, don't you?'

'Well...yes, but...'

'No buts, it was uncalled for and unanswerable. I should never have said those things about you, not on any inducement. Only a fool would mistake your high spirits for flirting. I have no excuses to give.' He isn't so bad, but apologising is very easy when you get into the swing of it, the trick is not to grovel - that is the point at which you lose all respect. 'Please believe that your ... friendship has become very important to me, and I would not want it jeopardized by my foul temper.' A grimace at the last ruins the effect somewhat, but on the whole a sincere apology. I think that it would be a shame to play with him - and he does looks genuinely concerned.

'Oh Thorn! I should be a simpleton indeed if I were to remain angered by your words.' He brightens a bit.

'Really? Then you are not offended? You forgive very easily, Kitten.' I dimpled.

'I know, Papa always said it was my best asset for it gave him a quiet life.' Then I answered him more seriously. 'It hurt a bit, but it isn't as if I have four sisters who never argue is it? Besides - everyone needs a few home truths to keep them in check, and if a friend can't tell them then who? And it isn't as if I've never been insulted before.' I suddenly remember one of those times that I thought I had forgotten, or at least hoped I had forgotten.

'Kitty?'

'Sorry?'

'I asked who in insulted you? Do you want me to call them out?' I was sorely tempted to remind him of his words at Pemberley, but feared that he might be embarrassed, for that was much worse than last night. So I told him of the scene I remembered.

'When the militia were quartered at Meryton, the officers lodged in a house just off the main street.' Thorn got up form his crouch to sit beside me; I turned, but found that I could not meet his eyes. 'Lydia and I used to go in the mornings, ostensibly to see the wives, but...' I couldn't quite finish it off but I'm sure Thorn would get my meaning. I glanced quickly at his face, and to my surprise saw that he was just waiting for me to continue. No frown of disparagement. He took my hands.

'You were young Kitty, you want me to condemn you for that?'

'No, but maybe you should, after all it was hardly 'ladylike' was it?' I rushed on before he could interrupt. 'Anyway, one morning Lydia and I heard them talking, and as we were young and curious we thought it would be a lark to hear what they were talking about. Imagine our surprise when we found that it was the Bennet girls.'

'Oh?' Thorn looks grimmer now, but squeezes my hands. I think that I am supposed to take from this that he annoyed at the officers and not at me. I will take it as my cue to continue.

'Yes, they were making a game of it - they had to get a word starting with the same letter as our name, what is the name for that?'

'Alliteration.'

'Oh yes, so it was 'Genial Jane', 'Jovial Jane', 'Laughing Lizzy', 'Elegant Elizabeth'. All nice things about those two.' I sniffed. 'Then they worked their way down the list to 'Moralising Mary' and 'Mary the Martyr', only I think that one was disqualified. Then it was Lydia and my turn.' I paused, not for dramatic effect I assure you, but I just started to wonder at the wisdom of sharing this with anyone. I don't enjoy being ridiculed, especially in front to friends.

'Go on.' Thorn was all encouragement. I suppose that the damage is done, he could probably guess by this stage.

'Well I was dubbed 'Clumsy Kitty', and... 'Catchpole Kitty.' Catchpole is an officer, so he meant that I was chasing...'

'Yes Kitten, I know what he meant.'

'Well I wasn't. Oh, all right - I suppose I was, but not any more than any of the other girls in Meryton and certainly not more than Lydia.'

'Yes, something seems to happen to girls when they see a man in uniform.' He is amused! I was astonished.

'I thought you would be disgusted.'

'No I just think that they were bloody fools not to allow themselves to be caught, and I think you might be looking for complements - 'Captivating Kitten?'

'Thorn!' Wretch! I made to hit him, but he caught my hand easily, and turned it over to inspect my palm. Then he looked up and met my eyes.

'Kitty, don't trouble yourself about it, it is past and I made some huge mistakes when I was young. They make your little scene look insignificant I promise you.' NOW he looks grim. I wonder if I could ask what the mistakes were? Judging by the look on his face, I don't think I'll risk a repetition of last night. Something to divert him I think?

'Lydia thought it funny, until she heard what they said about her.' I made an evil grin, and waggled my eyebrows successfully making Thorn forget his thoughts and laugh at me.

'Oh?'

Yes - 'Lively Lydia' she liked, but that was by one of her favorites. And...'

I paused, this time for dramatic effect - I was going to make Thorn beg.

'Kitten. Please. The suspense is killing me.' I giggled for he managed to say it with a perfectly straight face.

'Well - 'Loose Lydia'.' Thorn raised his eyebrows

'Not something to be proud of.'

'No, that is why they never heard of it at Longbourn. But the funniest thing is that it was Mr. Wickham that called her so, and ...'

'George Wickham?' Thorn looks interested, then questions me further.

'Yes.'

'Did you know him?'

'Vaguely. Did you?'

'I knew him a bit when we were younger. Did he ever show an interest in you?'

'No - Lizzy was his favourite.' I realised what I said and put my hand out to Thorn ' Never tell her I said that - please!'

'Your secret is safe with me, I promise.'

'Well, you see it wouldn't be right - especially not when he married Lydia.'

'George Wickham is married to your sister?'

'Yes.'

'Darcy must have told me, but I couldn't have been listening properly.' I do not know if this was said for my benefit or his own.

'Where are they now?' I thought of my last letter and about Lydia coming to London, but Lydia had asked me not to tell anyone.

'The last letter I had was from Newcastle.' That isn't a lie, or at least only a little white one.

'Hmmm.' Thorn seemed to think on it. Quite what he was thinking was a mystery. Just then the clock went and I remembered something I wanted to say to Thorn, and if I didn't hurry then Mr. Calder would be here.

'Thorn?'

'Yes?'

'Well, you remember what I said - about friends being able to tell each other the truth.'

'Yes...' he looks warily at me.

'Well, last night I couldn't help but notice that you acted rather differently than you do, say at the moment.' I was looking at him carefully trying to gauge his reaction, and don't think that I offended him.

'It was a party Kitten, not an intimate talk with a friend.'

'Yes, but you were rather...stuffy, and standoffish.'

We looked at each other.

'I just thought you should know.'

'Thank you, Kitten, I will think on it.'

A carriage drew up outside, and I ran to the window.

'Mr. Calder!' I ran to the mirror to check my hair. Thorn sat back and looked highly amused at my antics.

'If I asked you not to go...'

I smirked.

'Thought not. Well, are you sure you don't want to come for a proper drive later?' He was teasing me again! Everything is as it should be.

'Thank you, no. Shall I see you later?'

'Yes, for the moment I think I will go and eat some of Darcy's breakfast.' Thorn makes to leave, but remembers something, and comes to me, looking at my face intently and pressing my hand.

'Kitty - don't trust Calder. I mean he is an honourable man - you will be perfectly safe, but you can't trust him too much, so be careful what you say.'

'What does that mean?'

The door is opening, Thorn drops my hand and takes a step away.

'Thorn.' I hiss at him, but the polite mask is over his face again.

'Mr. Calder, ma'am.'

Chapter Eighteen

I continued to stare at Thorn in annoyance, infuriated by his cryptic remark - I think that the world would be a much happier place if everyone but understood their fellow man. Lord Thornfield of Thrapston is doing nothing to promote this understanding. But Thorn was ignoring me, his eyes directed at the door, and at the butler's voice I composed my face and turned to face my driving companion.

Mr. Calder strode into the room with his hat and a cane in his hands as neat in fashion and fair in looks as I remembered him being, but he checked himself on seeing Thorn. I watched with amusement as his facial expression changed from surprise to almost cunning, well certainly amusement. Now what is this secret between Thorn and Mr. Calder? Why should they act in such a manner towards each other? Oh, I have all the questions and none of the answers. I have always had a curious nature (well nosy really) but I blame this on the fact that I am a middle child in a large family so how else was I to learn?

Mr. Calder recollected himself and came to me and made his leg. I could not help but scrutinize him after Thorn's cryptic comments - I could trust him, but I couldn't? Awful man - I hate conundrums, they are much more Lizzy's thing. Anyway, there was no tattoo or sign around his neck informing me that he was a bank robber or highwayman, and I think I could discount the idea that he was a fortune hunter, so the mystery continues. I promise myself that I will wheedle it out of Thorn later.

'Miss Bennet.'

'Mr. Calder,' I glanced at the clock, 'You are early sir.' I then kicked myself, for perhaps it would appear that I wanted a tête-à-tête with Thorn. Oh dear, my big mouth! I can only hope that perhaps he did not notice. Mr. Calder continued to smile amiably at me, no sign of deviousness in his face and I felt a rush of gratitude.

'The roads were quiet, Miss Bennet, and I always recommend punctuality.' His face then changed, and his voice became smooth as he addressed Thorn - 'Lord Thornfield, I had not thought to meet you here.'

'Calder.' It would appear that Mr. Calder is to receive a monosyllabic answer, well actually two - Cal-Der, but I won't nit-pick. To cover up the uncomfortable moment I asked Mr. Calder if he would like a seat, or required any refreshment.

'Thank you Miss Bennet, but I require nothing.'

'Oh.'

Silence. This will not do - I am the hostess after all, so I shall attempt to make small talk.

'So you gentlemen know each other.' I smiled at each of them hoping that they would not notice my bad grammar, but to my surprise it was Thorn who answered.

'As well as we should like to, Miss Bennet, I assure you.'

Is it normal for men to be so insulting of each other? Not to reveal my ignorance, I change the subject and I think I will give up on small talk, it blatantly does not work.

'Mr. Calder, I hope you do not mind, but I should like for my maid to accompany us this morning.' I had had this thought last night, for although I do not fear a lack of propriety in driving out with Mr. Calder, I think it would be more decorous to have someone with me in case I am forced to make a hasty retreat if Mr. Calder's driving is as bad as Thorn says it is.

'Not at all.' Mr. Calder was all agreeableness.

I turned to ring the bell and could not miss the look of appreciation on Thorn's face. Well, really! Does he take me to be a fool?

There was a further lull in conversation as we waited for the butler to arrive, I felt acutely uncomfortable, and although I am not by nature a fanciful person, there seemed to be a lot of tension in the room. I just wished that somebody would speak, it did not signify who. Perhaps Mr. Calder sensed this, for it was he who broke the silence, albeit to make Thorn even more uncomfortable.

'So what brings you here so early, Thornfield?'

I looked at Thorn, but could not bring myself to believe that he could tell the truth and reveal our argument. Thorn looked thrown, and I hastily covered for him -

'Lord Thornfield and Mr. Darcy are going to look at horses for Lizzy, so that she made ride with him when they return to Pemberley.'

Thorn threw me a look of gratitude, and Mr. Calder was too polite to question what I said, murmuring,

'Indeed!' He cannot know that Lizzy hates riding, can he? Wretched man, I start to imagine that he is omnipotent!

Thankfully, the butler came in at that moment, and I requested that Agnes put on her bonnet. Hopefully, the three of us need not endure this for much longer. I picked up my own bonnet and went to the mirror to put it on, normally I would leave the room but I did not trust these two men in a room alone, and my curiosity wanted to hear what they said.

Again it was Mr. Calder who initiated the conversation.

'So Thornfield, are you remaining long in town?'

'The season I would imagine.' Thorn was horribly stiff, this was not my teasing friend. I suppose that I will just have to get use to this formal manner when we are in the company of others.

'I would have thought that your interests had returned to the country not long since.' I could not help but give a small gasp - what a shot! For if he means this mysterious Lily Hampton then he has surely found no quicker way to infuriate Thorn. Indeed, when Thorn spoke next it was through gritted teeth.

'No, I assure you that I am tolerably entertained in town, but I thank you for your interest.'

I turned back to face the gentlemen before they could come to blows, or any damage be done to Mr. Calder's fine coat.

'Well, I am ready - are the horses our front?' Mr. Calder rose from his chair.

'You look charming Miss Bennet, and my carriage awaits.'

We smiled at each other, but were interrupted by a voice - unnoticed, Thorn had moved to the window, and was peering though the curtains.

Ah - you have brought Sutherland's bays! Well, not even you could startle them so I assure you Miss Bennet, that you should be safe.'

'Thank you' this rivalry is beginning to infuriate me, I think we had best be gone, but it is not to be, I had taken Mr. Calder's hand and was half way to the door when it opened and in came Mr. Darcy.

He, as Mr. Calder before him, checked in the doorway, before coming in and closing the door. Please! I just want to get out of here!

Mr. Darcy nodded to Thorn, then turned to address Mr. Calder.

'Good morning.'

'Good morning, Darcy.' Come now William, be strong and silent as only you know how, and let us go! But no, he makes a push to be civil.

'You are going for your drive?' Well what does it look like, silly man?

'It is all right Darce, he has Sutherland's bays.' I will hit him, I will I will I will! I have never been so mortified - this descends into farce. Mr. Calder looks acutely uncomfortable.

'Yes, well I assure you that Miss Bennet will come to no harm. No if you will excuse us, the horses will be getting restless.'

'Any less restless and they would be dead.'

I turned to give Thorn a look of reproof, but at the teasing look he gave me I could not help but smile, and was glad that the poke bonnet hid my face from Mr. Calder. I mouthed to him - 'your round I think', and at his grin knew that he had got my meaning. I felt a rush of happiness, and supremely content - maybe not such a bad morning's work after all?

'Miss Bennet?' Recalled to my surroundings by Mr. Calder, I curtsied to Thorn, pecked Mr. Darcy on the cheek and made a hasty retreat. A whimsical part of my mind added - pursued by bear?*

*A Winter's Tale - William Shakespeare

Chapter 19

It was a very pleasant day for a drive and I must admit that I felt no small relief to be out of the house - even the grandest of houses gets stuffy at times and I felt the need to air my cobwebs. As I was in a good humour with all, I sat back to enjoy the sunshine and satisfied myself with observing the people (more specifically their fashion) that we passed on the way to the park. I was, however, very aware of Thorn's orders and so as not to put Mr. Calder off his driving I stayed quiet for as long as possible (no mean feat for me, self control is not my strong point. As I told Georgie - it is not that I like the sound of my own voice, it is just that I have not the ease in silence that other's have and if the space must be filled with chatter it had as well be mindless as not. I smirked to myself as I remembered that Papa does not agree with me on this - we had a 'discussion' about it. I won, or rather he retreated to his study which I think means the same thing.)

Anyway, after observing our passage through London's streets I came to a reluctant conclusion - Thorn was right about Mr. Calder's driving. Not that I shall ever admit it to him of course! Anyway, I thought it a grand adventure, and as long as the wind didn't mess up my hair was quite enjoying it. Agnes on the other hand, did not. Poor Agnes. I felt awfully mean for having dragged her along, but could not help but give a small smile to myself when I heard her saying a prayer of deliverance in the back. Oh, I wonder if Mr. Calder heard too? Poor Mr. Calder! We were in the middle of London, and all right maybe we were not supposed to be on two wheels as we went around corners, but that is all part of the fun! Although, in defense of Agnes, she was not the only one whose nerves were stretched - Mr. Calder's Tiger was coiled and ready to pounce like...well a tiger, I suppose.

Anyway, it was Mr. Calder who spoke first - just as he had done the tricky job of getting the carriage through the park gates (which, by the way, were at least double the width of the carriage)

'Tell me Miss Bennet, do you only converse indoors?'

'No,' I glanced at my companion and decided it was safe to tease him a little, 'I was afraid to put you off you see,' I then leaned closer and confided in a conspiratorial tone, 'you were concentrating so very hard.' I drew a gasp from my companion.

'A hit! You are ungenerous Miss Bennet, I am undone!'

I laughed at his face of mock offense, and this morning it did not draw the looks of turbaned dowagers or disgruntled earls (I'm not thinking of anyone in particular of course) for in the park were only companion's with either dogs or old ladies, and gentlemen riding through.

'Shall we walk for a bit?' I am given no time to answer, for to my great amusement the Tiger is off his perch and round at the front with the horses before I can so much as draw breath. Agnes too is now offering thanks for her safe arrival. Mr. Calder valiantly ignored all of this, but I could feel my eyes sparkling, even as I tried to keep my mouth prim.

'I think that would be best.'

I gave him my hand and I was duly assisted down. We walked apart a bit and I wished that I had a parasol for although it would probably get in my way for most of the time, I thought that it would probably make us into a very picturesque little scene. Anyway, we did not walk in silence, but talked - the previous evening was my opening gambit - a safe subject although dreadfully conventional.

'The party last night seemed to be a success, despite my playing.' As I said this I winced as I realised that that it looked as if I were angling for a compliment. Not that I think Mr. Calder noticed - his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. How very rude! Was my playing so awful, and yes - I know that that is being contrary, but I am young and female - it is expected of me.

'Yes, Lady Bellinger is well known for her parties. Most of town stays in bed till well after midday on the day following them - I was very surprised to see not just you up but also Thrapston, tell me, does he visit you often?'

Sensing trouble, and feeling acutely uncomfortable by the inferences that could be derived from my answer I decided that I must be cautious - Thorn said I could not trust him. Well, I will just have to play this one on my wits. 'Lord Thornfield visits most days, as does Cousin Richard. They give Mr. Darcy respite from being surrounded by women.' I thought that I affected unconcern quite well, but Mr. Calder takes the hint, and turns the subject to a lighter topic (to some relief on my part)

'And are you enjoying town with your sister and Darcy?' I felt a burst of enthusiasm as I remembered that I was in London for the entire season!

'Oh yes - it is all very grand and exciting', I then stopped and considered before admitting that 'well, I haven't actually seen that much yet' Mr. Calder laughed, as of course I had intended him to - I am a wit you see!

'It is funny, I have known Darcy for going on ten years, and yet I always find that I forget his first name...' I immediately perceived his intent, and giggled -

'Fitzwilliam.'

Mr. Calder taunted me as a 'cruel creature - how can you not commiserate with the man, to be so burdened.'

Any attempts to sober now failed - 'burdened!' For some reason I though this tremendously funny. 'Oh dear, well at least Lizzy's peculiar name is in the middle where it can safely be hidden behind an initial.'

'Oh?' - Mr. Calder dutifully affected curiosity.

'Yes for she is named after Spenser. Papa named each of us after his favourite writers.' Mr. Calder gave me his arm and smiled down at me.

'I take it that your father is a scholar, Miss Bennet?'

'Oh yes, he loves books and reading.' I smiled, 'Mama on the other hand likes gossip and lace. Papa got away with Lizzy and Jane, my elder sister who is married to Mr. Bingley.'

'Yes I know of him - a very likable fellow, always a good word about someone'

'Yes, well Mama decided to kick up a fuss when it came to Mary and I - she declared that she would not have us maimed such.' I did a tolerable impression to spice up my story and received a laugh and a smile for my pains.

'Ah Miss Bennet, now you interest me. Divulge the terrible secret of your middle name I beg of you.' I decided to toy with him for a bit.

'Well, Mary was named for Shakespeare - but Mama managed to have it changed to Wilhelmina and as we have a second aunt by the name Mama thought no one would notice and so was happy.'

'You tease me Miss Bennet' I could feel myself blushing and I felt acutely uncomfortable all of a sudden- his gallantry was of a different sort to the soldier's. Where has all my confidence gone? Really this is the outside of enough; I will not be reduced to a knock-kneed schoolgirl by a man! I composed myself and lowered my eyes so as to appear demure.

'No sir, but I hesitate for fear that you will laugh at me.'

Mr. Calder pretended to reflect upon this before admitting that ' it is entirely probably you know - I cannot deny it.' This drew from me a laugh and I was easy again. I bowed to him to concede defeat then straightened and made my voice as dignified as possible as I made my confession.

'I was named for Pope sir - you have the honour of addressing Miss Catherine Alexandra Bennet.' Mr. Calder bowed in return.

'I am delighted to make your acquaintance. Your mother succeeded with you also I see.'

'Yes', smirks, 'although Papa does insist that I am actually Catherine Alexandra Pope Bennet. It sends Mama wild!'

'I can see that it would. I think that it must be the fashion to give children awful middle names. Perhaps they thought that it would keep us humble.'

'Oh', interested in turning the topic away from me it was now I who affected curiosity, 'and what is yours?' Mr. Calder merely took my arm again whilst giving me a mysterious look. My curiosity was now fully aroused - I find that there is nothing that I want to know more than something that someone will not tell me.

'Come now sir, I have told you my terrible secret.'' I tried to coax it out of him, but I am not deceived by thinking that I have charm and so was not surprised by my failure and Mr. Calder's protest.

'Miss Bennet please! You have but told me of a disaster averted by the good sense of your mother.'

The irony, but were Papa here!

I tried to coaxes some more, 'I won't tell anyone, and but think - how can it be worse than Lizzy - for I am sure that no one is in the position to call you his 'Faerie Queen' in a very bad love poem.' This drew a laugh and I felt a rush of pleasure as I realised that I had won.

'Yes and consider your luck, for my father favoured the Greek poets.'

I could not help but start to laugh already - 'Tell me!'

Mr. Calder pretended to consider it. I put on pleading eyes, then dimpled - a trick that Lydia had taught me was sure to succeed.

'Orpheus.'

Pardon?

Did he sneeze or did he mean that that is his middle name. On looking at his expectant manner I realise that it must be the latter. Oh dear! I managed to keep my self control for a few moments more, and cocked and eyebrow whilst eyeing him up and down in what I hoped was a disdainful manner - 'Orpheus?'

'Yes' his voice was testy and he looked needled by my attitude. This was too much for me and I finally let myself laugh. Unfortunately once I started I found that I couldn't stop. I tried to choke out the words 'that is worse' but found that it was unintelligible. This was even funnier, and soon I was doubled over, and my sides ached.

'Oh,' I wiped the tears from my eyes and was about to comment that at least it was not Agamemnon, for he had come to rather a sticky end, but then as Papa sardonically calls it 'a spark of enlightenment' came to me and suddenly it wasn't funny anymore. I suddenly started eyeing Mr. Calder as if he had grown three heads and several tentacles.

'You...you...'

Mr. Calder was also very wary, his face which but moments before had echoed my laughter now was guarded. 'Yes?'

''You are the same 'Orpheus' that writes the satirical column on the happenings of Society for The ------ paper. You are the same author who has such a satirical outlook on people and is happiest when unveiling foibles to be ridiculed at large.' Mr. Calder grimaced.

'I did not think that you would read my column.' Well thank you! Although in all fairness I don't - papers are boring, you hear about all the important things by people talking about them, not by reading them.

'Papa reads it - it is one of his favourites, and when there is a really 'good bit' he reads it out to us. He believes that we are each here to make sport of our neighbours and to be laughed at in our turn.' I made it plain by my tone of voice that I did not approve of this outlook.

I had now run out of words and we stood looking at each other. I wonder how this changed things? Could I trust him, or was I being a naïve fool and as soon as I made a faux pas I would be in the next article bemoaning the rise of provincials in the Ton? Oh dear! My musings were interrupted by an appeal from my companion.

'Miss Bennet, I must ask you to help me keep my anonymity - it is essential to my work.'

'I am sure it is.' He is not the only one to be sardonic, but it was too much to take in all at once, and so I continued to walk as we had been, turning the whole thing over in my mind. I wish that I had Lizzy to talk to, or Georgiana - they would know what to do. Or Thorn. As I thought this something else became clear and I realised what Thorn had meant - he was an honourable man but I could not trust him. Cryptic, but understandable now. Why couldn't the dratted man have told me some of this in the first instance then I would not be in this wretched position. I must have said at least some of this aloud, or Mr. Calder is a mind reader for he said:

'Yes, Thornfield knows. I don't know quite how, but he does.' He grinned to himself, 'Thornfield hates society columns and dislikes me for writing them. Somehow I find that it is a dislike that I can bear with equanimity.'

Quite how he expected me to reply to that I don't know, but silent I stayed. Mr. Calder continued on his musing.

'Yet, to my knowledge at least, he has never told anyone. A strange code of honour I suppose, for he has never even mentioned to me that he is aware of my pseudonym never mind blackmailing me into portraying an incident to put him into a favourable light.'

'Yes Lord Thornfield has a great sense of what is right and wrong.' This brings into my mind what would need to happen for me to be happy to continue my friendship with Mr. Calder and I am deadly serious as continued our conversation. 'Mr. Calder, I will keep your secret as Lord Thornfield has - telling no one, but I must ask you for something in return'

'But name it.' Mr. Calder is all gallantry, but I have not the time for it and I have a suspicion that he will not be so happy in a few moments.

'I ask that you never, under any circumstance, write about Lizzy, Georgian, Cousin Richard, Mr. Darcy, my family, Lord Thornfield or myself.'

Mr. Calder was noticeably shocked and taken aback, by necessity we now stopped walking and turned to face each other - 'Miss Bennet!'

I had to remain firm - now was not the time to make light-hearted jokes for any friendship to work between us these ground rules would have to be set and honoured. 'No Mr. Calder, on this point I will not compromise. I will not stand back and allow my friends and family to be made fun of to satisfy the Ton's sense of humour and earn you a few shillings.'

'I do point out the good in people as well you know.' He can be as sarcastic as he likes I'm not backing down, and I met his eyes squarely. 'Miss Bennet you are so fresh and unusual you have no need to worry about any poison from my pen.' Perhaps sensing this would not satisfy me he quickly changed tack, 'Anyway, Thornfield would call me out if I were to criticize you, and I fancy that Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam would not be far behind.'

'Well I don't care, and even I know that dueling is illegal. Promise sir, nothing else will satisfy me!'

'I swear that I shall never mention you or your family by name, some social comment must be expected about your arrival in town - I am sure that you have the good sense to comprehend that.' I refrained from telling him that Papa considers it to be folly to appeal to any woman's 'common sense' and allowed him to continue. 'But, and here Miss Bennet I must be firm, I cannot allow Thornfield off the hook so easily - but consider his history, and Lily Hampton...'

On only a few occasions in my life have I truly 'flown of the handle' and this I'm afraid was one of them.

'How dare you.' I screamed at him, uncaring of who could hear. I then turned and stalked quickly back to the carriage. I had had enough of this. How dare he judge Thorn? Had he done nothing in his life that could be construed as a mistake, or is he perfect? Men! Oh I am sick of the lot of them, they can all just go away and leave me alone!

'Miss Bennet' Mr. Calder called after me, then he had caught up and taken hold of my arms, a wise move or I would have hit him with my reticule. Instead I started giving him a piece of my mind.

'Honour and loyalty mean something to me, even if they do not to you, and I do not make or listen to idle gossip about my friends. If it is important and he feels that it is something that I should know then I am sure that Lord Thornfield will tell me about Lily Hampton. If not then it does not matter. It is that simple. In the meantime, if we cannot be loyal to our friends then how are we ever to expect it in return?' Mr. Calder had stayed quiet throughout my rant, and when I was done he seemed to remember himself and let go of my arms.

'Miss Bennet, you humble me.' His quiet words touched more than shouting would ever have done. He paused for a moment before continuing. 'I respect your position but please consider - Lord Thornfield is a single man of not just good fortune, but indecent fortune. He has been the target of matchmakers since he was out of leading reins. He also has manners that in company at least, leave him open to reproof - he can be curt and even rude. To not comment upon him would cause talk, probably more than were I to continue. He is also quite capable of taking care of his own interests - please remember that he is aware of my identity and has been for many years now, should I step beyond the bounds of acceptable I am sure that he will take it up with me himself. But I understand your concerns and in return promise never to be vindictive in my approach to him, or to act in any way that I feel will cause you distress. And in addition I swear that I will always respect any confidence that you place in me.'

Mr. Calder spoke and looked sincere - I had no doubt that I could believe his word and felt relief when I realised that I could trust him once more. We could be friends again. I let out a big breath of relief.

'I accept.' Mr. Calder smiled, but it was a weak effort and he still looked slightly serious. Well, that will not do. I straightened my bonnet in a businesslike manner.

'I think that you should take me home now, and while we are going I think that you should explain why you are such a very bad driver.'

This time it was Mr. Calder's laughter that filled the park, and it drew the turning of a head from a carriage and I am sure that it was the same dowager from last night. A puce turban today, oh well - caught again.

Chapter 20

For orientation - Lady Bellinger's party had been on the Friday night and my drive with Mr. Calder the Saturday morning. The rest of Saturday was spent in exchanging house calls promised by Lizzy to people she had talked to the night before. Most were deadly dull, so by far the most enjoyable of these visits was to see Lady Bellinger. We three ladies visited her in the early afternoon, well about three-ish, and found her stretched out on a chaise lounges still in her dressing gown. We were shown into her boudoir by her butler and I must admit that for a moment I forgot where I was and fancied myself at home in Longbourn with Mama having one of her 'headaches'. The strong smell of scent was the same, as was the darkened room and cups of tea. On seeing us though the transformation was incredible - she leapt up and insisted on kissing us all. She then explained that she had thought that we were Mrs. Chapple, an old school acquaintance who detested others lying about till suppertime and periodically checked just to reassure herself that Lady Bellinger was one of the sinners to whom she could preach. Lady Bellinger felt that this was the least she could do for an old friend, and lazing around really wasn't too much bother after all the excitement of last night. As I think I may have said before, I like Lady Bellinger. Anyway, the rest of the visit was spent very agreeably indeed - we ate cakes, discussed various fashions and Georgie and I were cross-examined on what we thought of the gentlemen at the party, Mr. Calder in particular. I replied with tolerable equilibrium, and my feelings towards Lady Bellinger were not injured at all when she did not press the issue but merely suggested that I should not ride with him - better to walk she said. Needless to say I agreed heartily.

Other visits were to Georgie's London friends that she had made when she stayed here before Lizzy and Mr. Darcy got married. Most of them had the same music mistress, or painting mistress or piquet teacher or some such. Georgie tried to make me feel at home with them but I find that I can't feel comfortable. They all seem to be titled, or at least 'suitable' as Miss Bingley would say (I know it is not the done thing, and she is my sister in law now but I can't help but admit that I have never liked that woman. Far too lofty for her own good in my opinion.) Anyway, most of these young girls were as shy as Georgiana. They all seemed to communicate not with words but with half-spoken sentences, blushes and downcast eyes. A very infuriating habit, after half an hour in their company I found that I want to shake them or scream or shout. Then I thought the better of it for I know what would happen - they would look at me blankly, then cry. All right, I am aware that I am being ungenerous, but these visits are a great nuisance and I'm tired.

More visits were conducted on the Monday morning (on Sunday we had made good our escape and had driven into the country surrounding London for a picnic after church. When we got back Mr. Darcy told the butler that we were not 'at home' to anyone. Bliss.) Where was I? Monday. Well this time London decided to visit us, although most of these ladies come only to satisfy their curiosity I am sure. The worst of it is that I can no longer run away - Lizzy says that I am expected to be there. As I said - a great nuisance. Thus I had to watch as they tried to pry (in a most unsubtle manner) about our past (as if I would tell them - 'well I was a hoyden you see', tempting...but no. Lizzy would kill me and Mama would be next on line), or they asked about our family (they just wanted our pedigree really, so I felt a bit like a dog. Woof.) Then they asked about Thorn and Cousin Richard. 'Are we close?' 'Do they visit often?' I was consumed by disgust. Is this the life of the titled? How shallow and well...dull. I am annoyed with them and slightly disenchanted by the whole thing. I also remembered Papa's warning, but should he enquire then I shall risk my soul and lie - I would not want to be ungrateful, and it is true - I am enjoying town. Just not this bit of it. I am drawing myself into a circular monologue again. Time to move on I think.

Well, the daughter's of these mamas are no better - most look down their noses at me (and such long and pointy noses they have too). And I distinctly heard one mother hiss to her daughter that I was friends with Thorn and Colonel Fitzwilliam, so she would just have to put aside her natural disinclination for me and talk to me. 'Yes dear it is hard, but think of the carriages and jewels you could have.'

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!

Enough.

I had had enough. The human soul was not made to endure this torture.

At this point I decided to develop the headache. This unfortunately (ha ha) necessitated a speedy (yet I still like to think, elegant) retreat. It was somewhat marred by Lizzy's look of dislike, but I think it is jealousy for I know she wants to run away too.

Once the door was shut I stood in the hall a moment considering what might best be my next move to avoid both the visitors and Lizzy. The answer was ludicrously simple, and I decided to retreat to the last place anyone would look for me - the library.

I opened the door cautiously - it would not do to find a blue-stocking hiding in here while her mama chatted, that would rather be like leaping out of the frying pan and into the fire. But to my pleasure, I found company for my ill humour - Thorn stretched out full length, and very much at his ease, on the sofa. Mr. Darcy would kill him for having his feet up on the furniture. Then again, Mr. Darcy not here.

This was the first time I'd seen him to really talk to since my ride with Mr. Calder (for you cannot always hold intimate conversations even in a room full of friends. Life is funny that way, for sometimes the best place to hold a private conversation is in a large room of strangers.) Oh dear, it would appear that I am becoming a philosopher. How Papa would laugh, and how vexed Mary would be - that is her position after all.

I decided to greet Thorn casually. Actually it was more casual than I felt, for I experienced a rush of excitement when I saw him - although it is probably just that I was looking forward to our verbal sparring after a morning of dull chatter.

'Good morning, Lord Thornfield. I trust that you are comfortable?' Thorn smiled, and lowered the book he was reading to his lap,

'Thank you Kitten, I am tolerably at ease, although an extra cushion wouldn't go amiss.' Thorn laughed at the face I made at him, and moved his legs to make space for me. I briefly considered the propriety of sitting next to him, but dismissed any objections quickly from my mind - we are friends after all, and anyone who insinuates differently will get the sharp edge of Thorn's tongue.

I perched myself at the edge of the sofa, and decided to entertain Thorn by telling him the story of what had happened at the morning visit. Somehow I managed to make it amusing, and to my surprise found that in the telling I felt better about the whole thing. I realised that I had been intimidated and had no reason to be --they were the idiots, intent on pocket books not I. Inspired by this revelation I was buoyed into good humour.

Thorn's reaction was more world-weary.

'Well, what did you expect?'

Humph. I thought over the morning and the mama's pushy questions about him in particular and something occurred to me. I looked at him, judged that he was in a good humour, and decided to risk offending him

'Are you so very rich?' Thorn raised his eyebrows, and smiled. No sign of offense. Good.

'Yes, do you care?' I smiled back.

'Not particularly' It is the truth. I don't. If he had in money problems then I would worry about him, but as he does not, then it does not matter. Does that sentence make sense?

'They care.' Thorn made a grimace of distaste. Poor man, to be chased for his fortune (as if he had nothing else to recommend him). Still, I cannot let him away with that. So I object.

'That is a very cynical view of life!'

Thorn shrugged and turned his attention once more to his book. 'I speak as I find.' He isn't smiling anymore, in fact his face has that distant look that he wears at parties. I can feel myself getting depressed again, but I won't let my mood be spoilt by him! So I object again.

'Well I prefer to believe in the good in people,' I remember my uncharitable thought on ladies in next room and concede 'well at least in theory. I don't care if you think me provincial or Janian.' This was all said in an uppity manner, one of my self-defense mechanisms that had him fooled not a bit. Thorn's warm look put me at my ease again, even if his words put me to the blush.

'I assure you Kitten, I don't think silly at all. In fact I think you are rather enchanting.'

I felt at once all hot and embarrassed and challenged him straight out before I ran my question through my internal censor-

'Are you flirting with me?' Well, Kitty really! What do you expect him to say? Of course he is flirting with you! That is what brothers and friends do after all (Richard had educated me in this). Thorn affected surprise, reinforcing to me that he had just been teasing and was making sport of me.

'Why, I do believe I am!' he had a look of wonder on his face, so I hit him on the leg (the closest part of him to me). I am not here for his amusement!

'Well stop!'

'Why?' Thorn leaned forward, still laughing at me, and inspected my cheeks, 'Kitten, are you blushing?' At that point in time I would have paid a great deal of money, which I do not have, to have Lord Thornfield look elsewhere. I grabbed desperately at the first subject I could think of. My choice was not inspired.

'No! What are you reading?' If anything his grin got wider. Wretched man!

'Don't change the subject, Kitten.' Why not? Oh, I give up!

'You're impossible!' I tossed this at him and then started to get up. I would rather be in the drawing room with our 'welcome visitors' than enduring this. Thorn grasped my hand and pulled me back down. It would appear that I have yet to be punished enough.

'A good woman could reform me!' Thorn looked pleadingly into my eyes, but he can't quite get rid of the smile on his face. Surveying him I must concede that he is really very handsome. The girls in the next room are idiots if they just want him for his money, there is so much more to him than that. Now I feel very confused, and I'm not quite sure what about. Maybe if I ignore the feeling it will go away. Focus Kitty, you have an argument to win. I adopted Lizzy's arch manner.

'T'would be more than human could manage, more like you would corrupt her.' Thorn pouted and I could not help but laugh - he reminded me of a boy refused his sweetmeat. Still smiling at him, I tried my conversation change again.

'What are you reading?'

'Bad poetry.' Ah, an opportunity to tease him! Tiz too good to miss.

'Why? Are you in love?' Thorn ignored my sly tone completely. A point to me, my Lord?

'I never got the chance to ask you, but how was your ride with Calder?' Ah, now we come to the crux of the matter. I am not fooled by his commonplace tone, but am only surprised that he waited this long to ask. Subtlety is called for Kitty, this requires your utmost skill.

'Oh, it was tolerable.' I deliberately played it down. Well, he had been teasing me all morning so it is only fair that I should recoup what I lost. To annoy him further I played the coquette, and dimpled. It worked, annoying him I mean.

Thorn, voice and face stern started on a lecture- 'Remember, Calder...' I could guess what was coming next and made moves to head him off at the pass as it were.

'Yes, I know.' I then made a great pretense of looking around. 'Pray, have you today's paper?'

Thorn narrowed his eyes, I think he may see what I am driving at, well at least I hope so else this is going to turn into a very strange conversation. 'The society page does not appear till tomorrow, if that is what you are interested in.' There was a question implied at the end of the sentence. I smiled as I answered it, by this time I was sure that we were on the same wavelength.

'Oh yes, I am looking forward to it.'

'Don't be difficult Kitten, it doesn't suit you.' A hit! I made a funny face to let him know that I did not appreciate his manner.

'Well I thought I was doing it rather well.' Quite what 'it' was I'm not sure, and he did not specify.

'Well you weren't - you were just being annoying.' I gasped (all dramatics to infuriate him further. It is nice to see the boot on the other foot) Thorn lost all patience at this point. 'Very well, you were superb, magnificent, wonderful. Now why did he tell you?'

'He didn't - I figured it out all by myself thank you very much.' This time I was genuinely indignant, does he think me a simpleton? Best not to answer that. The worst of it was that it made Thorn laugh at me again, and I was doing so well!

'Taking the hump kitten? Well done though, really, I am impressed,' he is redeemed, 'surprised but impressed.' He is damned once more. Having said that I refused to let him see how very amused I was. 'How did he take it when you found out, I presume you told him?'

'Yes, and he was the perfect gentleman, wait - how did you know I would tell him?' Thorn leaned back, the look on his face the one that I have now learned to mistrust for it means that I am in for a ribbing.

'It isn't the kind of thing a woman can keep to herself.' I gasped. Again, this was genuine astonishment at his attitude, and again I spoke before I thought -

'Oh, and I suppose you have a great deal of experience with women?' Kitty! Idiot! Dolt! Simpleton! One does not ask men such things! Luckily Thorn did not seem to be offended, worse he seemed to think my look of dismay funny. He folded his hands modestly in his lap and informed me that -

'It really wouldn't be my place to say.' Oh, I'll get you lord Thornfield! I went back to my previous subject, as I knew that even if I could not rile Thorn, the mention of Mr. Calder probably would.

'Anyway, Mr. Calder and I have come to an understanding.' I succeeded more than I could have hoped - Thorn's face closed completely, and his hands gripped the book in his lap.

'Oh?'

'Yes, he is not going to write anything distressing about my family.' I paused. No response, so I continued. 'I tried to save your virtue as well but 'twas too much to be hoped for.' This did not cheer him.

'Well thank you for trying, kitten, but I don't need your protection.' I smiled, ready for my last poisoned dart.

'That's funny, for that is just what Mr. Calder said you would say.'

Grunt. The sweet sound of success.

'Do you go with him again?' As Thorn became more monosyllabic, I became more animated. Teasing is so much better when you are the one doling it out.

'Yes, Mr. Calder feels that his driving may improve with practice.'

Thorn looked thoroughly unimpressed. 'And pigs will fly.'

'Be nice.'

Thorn just glowered at me, I smiled sweetly and dimpled in return. He looked about to say something truly cutting when we heard noises in the hall - steps and coos of goodbye. We both turned to the door, although I had shut it behind me and we could see nothing. We waited in silence till there was nothing more to hear lest even the sound of our voices draw them here.

'I think we might be safe.' Thorn looked cheered by this thought. I was not.

'Till the next invasion.' And yes, I was sour - but he will not be here next time. Even if he is he need not be polite - he can be distant and mysterious like he always is.

'Be nice.' I dislike being mocked, especially using my own words so I stuck my tongue out at him to let him know this, like the mature adult I am. This had Thorn smiling again.

'Come driving with me?' I was in no mood to be generous. So I refused, although nicely, of course.

'No, for you have been bad and teased me.' A thought occurred to me, and I adopted an uppity manner. 'In fact, I will only go out with you when you have proved yourself to be truly noble.' I received a protest for my trouble.

'Kitty, I'm an earl!' Thus I had the upper hand once more.

'Nobility is more than rank Lord Thornfield!' I too can be condescending, although this is not received in the way that I expected.

'Little dreamer.' I am sent a fond look, and I can feel my cheeks go red again. 'The practice is rather different form theory you know, and as earls go I'm really rather nice.' He tried to look appealing again. Must be strong.

'There are worse thing in life than to be a dreamer.' Thorn then gives me a positively wicked grin. What now, I wonder?

'Yes, Calder's tiger.'

I was in the middle of a fit of giggles before realising that I really shouldn't, and slapped a hand over my mouth, trying hard not to look at Thorn lest I start all over again. He gave me no chance to recover.

'Well, if you aren't going to come driving with me, you had better feed me. I'm hungry - shall we go and make Lizzy give me tea?'

Once I was able to talk I told him what I thought of him, 'you're ridiculous, do you know that?'

'No, merely hungry.' Oh dear! I bit my lip and stood up, turning away in the appearance of shaking out my skirts but actually to try and get some self-control. When I had regained some semblance of composure I turned back to face my companion, trying to be matter of fact.

'Then I suppose we should feed you.'

'An invitation to lunch, how generous! Why, Miss Bennet I accept!'

I don't think I was able to stop laughing for the rest of the morning, every time Thorn commented on his hunger, (which he did more than necessary, each time with that rather wicked look) or the food I was off again. I think Georgie thought me deranged and Lizzy thought me a simpleton.

Oh dear. It hurts.

Chapter 21 Part 1

Well, it is Wednesday night, so that can only mean one thing -

Almacks.

My first thoughts on having been admitted into these hallowed halls was that it is all that I could ever have expected it to be - the candles, the grandeur, the sense of occasion. I declare that were I to come here every Wednesday for the rest of my life I should not tire of it! All of the ladies are wearing their finest clothes and jewels, and all of the gentlemen look very smart in their knee breaches, an item of clothing which shows off their legs to advantage. This giddy feeling lasted about half an hour and eventually faded away when I stopped looking around me and actually started seeing what was going on. This inevitably lead to my second opinion - Almacks is dull. The refreshments are not even tolerable - sour lemonade, bread, tea and stale cake, Mama (who for all her faults is an excellent hostess) would be mortified to lay such out on her tables for guests! Another point: everyone is on their best behaviour - they compliment each other without meeting the other person's eyes so they cannot see the lie there. It is a place of mindless flummery and flattery. Worse, it is a place of 'intrigue'! Doting Mamas with their offspring who have begged, borrowed and hoaxed to get in are prowling around speaking in too loud a voice and urging their daughters to display themselves to advantage for the single men. And yes, I am aware that I could be called hypocritical for saying this, but I like to think of it as informed, for who better to comment of the mortification of an overloud Mama than a Bennet? Amongst all of this the seven Patronesses patrol the halls like school monitors: Lady Sefton, Lady Cowper, Lady Jersey, Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, Princess Esterhazy, Lady Castlereigh and Countess Leiven all exquisitely dressed and all infinitely aware of the power they hold and command with the turn of a fan. I do not think that I would like to have their control over people - t'woud be too much of a responsibility for when they stop near a Debutante the poor thing doesn't know whether she is about to be complimented (and thus approved of in the eyes of society); or destroyed and thus condemned to marry a member of the clergy, in my opinion a fate worse than death. Although if this is what the patronesses can do for the women, it is as nothing to the power that Mr. George BrummelI wields. Apparently he is here tonight but I must admit that having observed this much I am in no rush to behold the man who commands the respect of even the Regent. All I am left to say is that I can see now why Thorn and Richard were so skeptical. Still, I suppose that it has to be done. Hey-ho.

When we first entered the main room we caused a great stir of interest - Lizzy and Darcy were soon engulfed in a flurry of people, but were rescued by Lady Bellinger who had swept us up and away with her. Georgie soon disappeared with one of her music friends, giving me an apologetic look for not bringing me along, but the mother of the young lady in question kept on giving me funny looks, no doubt she thinks that I am a bad influence. For a moment I tried to feel indignant, but I know that she is probably right, so I just shrugged it off. It was left to Richard and Thorn to provide a moment of comic relief for they had taken but one look at the number of unmarried females and, like the well-bred gentlemen they are, almost ran to the card room - that male safe haven of old.

As for me, well initially I had tagged along with Lizzy - the bustling group giving me time to acquaint myself with my surroundings and see beneath the veneer and gloss. All too soon, however, I was picked off the edge of the group and was introduced by Lady Sefton to a gentleman of 'mature years', who duly asked me to dance. Under benevolent eye of the Patroness I simply could not refuse, and as I was led onto the dance floor I wondered if she would stand with the same mindless look on her face while she calmly suggested that I jump off a cliff? It was a country-dance, but even so my companion was sweating profusely, wiping away the excess with a red handkerchief. This I could have borne had his conversation been interesting, but it was not. We discussed such fascinating topics as the weather, Hertfordshire, Almacks, and how I was enjoying London. I wanted to scream. However, I managed to control myself (for it would not do to let the side down) and answer with tolerably equanimity the dull as dishwater questions. We were about half way through the dance when the gentleman, a Mr. Arbuthnott by name, moved onto the topic of his health or more specifically his gout. I could see that this would probably last us for the rest of the set so made my move quickly. How very royal I said (I was also keen to show off my knowledge) for King Henry the eighth had gout, in fact I believe that may have that been which killed him in the end. My speculation, which was I think a more successful attempt at conversation than that which had passed, had the desired effect: the gentleman turned pale and begged to be excused leading me quickly to the side of the room. I watched him as he made his excuses to others and made his way speedily to the door. I would guess that that is the fastest he has moved in many years, and would further speculate that he is going home to do one of two things - consult his history books and see if that really had been what killed King Henry; or (and this is more likely) consult his doctor to see if it would kill him. Whatever he did, I was left alone at the side and was heartily glad of it.

And then there was one

I moved to the side and hoped that the shadows would make me less obvious to those around me. Glancing around I saw that Lizzy had by this time moved to another room. I stayed where I was for I was in no mood to find her and become another hanger-on. Instead I satisfied myself with watching the dancing. I was forced to concede that it was no wonder that Mr. Darcy was so condescending of us at the Meryton assembly, for the difference is amazing - the jewels, clothes of silks and satins and of course the 'superior dancing'. Although I bet they all had dancing masters so they wouldn't step on their silken slippers. I smiled to myself as I saw that it was not foolproof - note to self, only dance with gentlemen who carry less weight than a small mule. Hmmmm, I wonder how much weight a mule can actually carry? I soon became engrossed in the watching and the thinking of irrelevant thoughts, but I did feel quite alone.

Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder, causing me to jump in surprise. This was quickly followed by a sense of dread. Then I (very reluctantly for I was not at all happy by this turn of events) turned to see who had so accosted me. It would appear that it was a Gentleman. For the first time in the evening I felt a spark of interest and surveyed him under downcast lashes as he made his leg and I my curtsey. Whoever he was, he was impeccable attired, very neat and not overstated in the least - in fact I would have been hard pressed to point out anything remarkable in his dress at all. His face was not classically good looking exactly, but seemed rather to exude dignity and confidence and, to my delight, there was a definite look of humour around his eyes - could he also see this pomp and circumstance for what it really is? However, there was also a look of hauteur about him. Hmmm, he must know the picture he presents - he can't have spent so much time looking impeccable and not care for his appearance; ergo: he must be a self-centred narcissist. Still, that is no reason not to be polite.

'Tell me, is it now the fashion for beautiful young ladies to become wallflowers?' Oh please! It would appear that I have mistaken his look of intelligence. Well I am in no humour to give consequence to young men who are simply bored with life. Thus I decided to make a tart reply in the hope of scaring him off.

'I'm afraid I don't know - I'm recently arrived from the country you see. But pray tell me Sir, is it now the London fashion to utter worn clichés instead of proper introductions?' To my surprise instead of being offended and aghast, my companion was appreciative.

'Touché.' I received a small bow for my trouble. The look on his face changed now to one of genuine interest instead of one expected to be bored witless. I think I will take that as a compliment to my wit. 'So where do you hail from?'

'Hertfordshire.' Remembering my previous experience on impulse I implored - 'please do not ask about the weather!' (I doubt this man is troubled by gout you see)

My companion seemed to find this very amusing, 'Ah yes, you have just stood up with Mr. Arbuthnott I collect.' I did not want to gossip or complain about him to a stranger and so held my tongue. There was a brief look of approval before he smoothly continued: 'I remember being told that Darcy's wife was from Hertfordshire. I am delighted to make your acquaintance Miss Bennet.' I got the shock of my life when I realised that this sophisticated man knew who I was! But I resolved not to be cowed.

'I am Miss Catherine Bennet, Sir, I have an older sister who claims the title. And you have heard of me, Sir?' To my mind this can only be a bad thing 'Have I gained a reputation already?' I was not pleased by this thought, I can tell you.

'What I have heard intrigues me greatly, but was all good I assure you.'

Ha! Codswallop. I eyed him suspiciously.

'I don't believe you.' My companion was taken aback by my bluntness, an elegant eyebrow was raised.

'Do you call me a liar, Miss Bennet?' Oh, careful Kitty, duels have been fought over less. I moved hastily to reassure him.

'I would never be so crass, it is merely so...'

My companion lifts his eyeglass in what he fancies to be a quelling manner. I was wholly unquelled, but just beginning to enjoy myself actually.

'...Predictable.'

A brief look of shock, the eyeglass was dropped. I grinned before quickly suppressing it - I was appreciative of the results of my sortie, but all is not yet won.

'I am undone.'

I continued with the game and shrugged nonchalantly.

''Tis to be expected'

I was forced to bite my lip at the expression of genuine surprise on my companion's face but I cannot beat my smile down. I quickly give in and laughed for the joy of it. To my surprise, for I had not expected him to drop his sophisticated image, my companion gave in and laughed too! A matron turns to look at us. Again. Well really! Humour it would appear is out of fashion in London this season. I laughed harder at the thought, oh dear: I am doomed.

My companion controlled himself first.

'You are too modest, Miss Bennet.' I could see that he was still amused, but I am unsure about whether he is being sarcastic or not so I decided to give an ambiguous answer and hope not to dig myself in any deeper. Again I strove for ennui, although this time it was hopeless task as I still giggled at intervals.

'I am merely being practical I assure you, Sir.' My companion marvelled at my sentence. All right, well at least this time I know he is funning.

'A practical woman, I declare that I have never met such a creature!' I decided on the spot to bend the truth a little so as to win the argument.

'Then all I can say, Sir, is that you have never met my sister Mary.' As I say it I realise how silly that would sound to anyone who actually knows Mary, and that Charlotte Lucas, whoops - Collins, would make a far better example.

'Then we must meet - it would be a match devised in heaven.'

Whatever I had expected it was not that. For a moment I just stared at him blankly, a scenario of Mary married to this Nonpareil running through my head. I could almost hear the arguments now! It was too much for me and I burst out laughing, clapping a hand over my mouth to cover the sound and turning to the wall so people could not see the mirth on my face.

'Why do you laugh?' My companion made a play of being offended. This just made me laugh harder. I managed to choke out a semblance of a reply.

'No reason.'

'I take it, Miss Catherine Bennet, that you think that we would not suit?' He was making everything much worse with every word he said - I was forced to plead, although the effect was somewhat hampered by my gasping for breath.

'Please stop! Everyone is looking at me as if I should be in bedlam.'

Over my companion's shoulder I saw a dandy entering, complete with rouge and yellow waistcoat. This was the first time I had seen one in real life and it made me laugh even harder so that there were tears in my eyes - I had thought until now that such creatures only existed in Punch magazine! My partner looked concerned at this and asked why I was almost doubled over now. Unable to reply, as I feared that I could not control my voice, I pointed the creature out with a shaking finger. Yes, I do realise that it is very rude to point, but I have not got any breath left. My companion twisted round to see what I was pointing at then turned back to look at me. For a second I could not read his face and sobered a little as I expected to be lambasted for laughing at not doubt a 'pinnacle of society', then, to my delight, my companion joined in.

'You, Miss Bennet, are enchanting.' Now he is the second person to call me that this week. 'All of the praise I heard of you was deserved. That is rare, very rare.'

This had me very confused - who was praising me to this man, and what is it that is rare? I tried not to let it show so I smiled uncertainly and lowered my eyes in an attitude of modesty.

'Miss Bennet,' at the formal tone of his voice I looked up. 'May I have the honour of this set?' I felt that I should protest - I would not want to ruin all by breaking the rules of Almack's.

'But we are not introduced.' Again my companion looked surprised by my reply, no doubt he has women falling over themselves at his feet. He made a great play of glancing at the dance floor.

'Of course, I wouldn't want to press you, but the set is almost formed so I am afraid that by necessity I must hurry you.'

I made a split-second decision and hoped that I would not live to regret it.

'Then I shall trust myself to you, Sir. But I should warn you that should you be a cad or a known rogue, and I find that I have disgraced myself by doing so then I will be most displeased.'

This caused my companion to give a wry smile as if I had amused him greatly. He bowed and I gave him my arm. I hope that he is a better dancer than Mr. Arbuthnott.

Anyway - we danced. And a very good partner he was too. We attracted not a few stares, and if I were inclined to paranoia I would say that people were talking about us. In all fairness it is no wonder for each time we came together in the set we had some joke or repartee to share. All in all it was a very pleasant half-hour.

What a tale to tell - a dance at Almacks!

My partner and I left the dance somewhat reluctantly - I did not want to return to the side to be forced to converse with more Mr. Arbuthnotts,. As Mary would say though, I suppose I should count my blessings: I have enjoyed myself tremendously and hope that it is not immodest to say that I think my partner did too. Laughter suits him more than the haughty reserve, but then again laughter suits everyone. As I was being led off the floor I saw Thorn on the sidelines, and pressed my partner on the arm and asked to be led to him. I felt a bubbly happiness and was not at all averse to letting it show - so I gave Thorn a big smile. He gave me a more restrained one in return. Perhaps I imagined the look of admiration, but I think not. Tonight, Catherine Bennet you are looking well and have done yourself proud.

'Enjoying yourself, Miss Bennet?'

'Tolerably so, I thank you Lord Thornfield.' I mocked his formality although I do understand that it would not be proper for us to speak in our normal fashion in such a gathering.

'I trust that I have kept Miss Bennet tolerably entertained, if not then I assure you that the fault is all with her for I have been at my most charming I assure you old chap.'

'Oh, I believe you, Brummell old chap.' Thorn's tone of irony was lost on me, as I did a double take.

'Brummell!' I gasped in horror. 'Oh Lord I am ruined.' Not the reaction they were expecting. Both men were taken aback by my reaction then Mr. Brummell started to laugh again, thinking no doubt that this is part of my funning. Thorn knows me better, however, and exclaimed -

'Kitty!' in tone of voice warning me to behave. I paid no heed to the silly man.

'Oh, I am not funning I promise you.' Mr. Brummell was obviously amused and watched our squabble with a benevolent eye while he polished his eyeglass and chuckled to himself.

'Kitty you are made, not ruined!'

'Thank you.' Brummell, said with due modesty. Normally I would laugh but at he moment I am not in the mood, I have more important things to think about.

'No, I am ruined.' I repeated, blankly contradicting Thorn. I briefly closed eyes, and put a hand to my forehead to try and smooth my anguished thoughts, 'Oh Lord!'

'Language Miss Bennet, I won't have my protégé swearing like a common milkmaid.' Severe tones of displeasure from Mr. Brummell. Well he has caused enough problems tonight and so I made a face at him. Brummell laughed, which was not at all my intention. Thorn, on the other hand, was shocked by my behaviour, and again exclaimed 'Kitty.' in shocked tones better suited to the purple turbaned Dowager of Lady Bellinger's party. Thank you Lord Thornfield but I am aware of what my name is!

I decided to explain my thoughts as best I could, for blank refusal seemed to be getting me nowhere.

'I cannot possibly keep it up. What will happen is that I will disappoint Lizzy and you all. What Lydia did will be as nothing to this!'

Brummell, as cool and suave as ever, tried to be the voice of reason. 'Miss Bennet, I urge you to calm yourself, under my excellent tutelage all will be well.'

I was in no humour to listen to him, does he not know that women cannot be calm at a moment like this? I was beginning now to seriously worry. I just about remembered my manners and to be polite, but all the same I resolved that I would pull no punches.

'Sir, to be frank, I really don't think that you understand - I am just a country girl. An untrained, unconnected Miss who is used to getting her own way, throwing temper tantrums at will and generally being a nuisance to all.'

Thorn now had the quiet voice of what I am sure he fancied was reason, but sadly reminded me more of a farmer trying to contain a wild horse.

'That may have been you in the past, Kitty, but you have changed.'

'Bah!' Elegant it was not, but it made my point more than a ten page eulogy would have.

'Kitten!' Thorn forgot himself enough to call me by my petname in public! Brummell blinked. He misses little, although I was sure that he will not call notice to it at this juncture - far too crude and not at all fitting.

'I have not I assure you.' Thorn looked infuriated at my continued refusal. I felt a rising panic - would they not listen? I opened my mouth, ready I admit to start abusing his good family name when Mr. Brummell called us to order.

'Miss Bennet, if you will excuse me for interrupting, but we are drawing not a few looks. I suggest that we retire to the terrace it is, I fancy, too early in the evening for it to be populated by anyone who is interested in what wehave to discuss.'

Absorbed by the disaster I, no they, had placed me in, I nearly missed the look of amusement that Thorn and Mr. Brummell shared at his last words. Well, I do not see what is so funny I am sure.

Mr. Brummell led the way across the hall, with Thorn and I making up the rearguard. The room was much busier than I remember it being and several times I bumped into people, only really noticing when they turned and glared at me. I was glaring back at someone when I stepped on the foot of an Austrian Count. I mumbled something suitably vague, and was aware that Thorn made a more formal apology on my behalf. Oh, so now he decides to show his manners!

My thoughts were in turmoil, but they all returned on one point - what have I done now? The men seem to think that I have overreacted but I am sure that I have not. My instincts do not lend themselves to self control and in an age where poise, urbanity and ennui is all the rage how can I hope to be anything but a novelty which, like my ill-fated piano lessons as a child, is dropped as soon as the initial burst of enthusiasm and interest has inspired.

Brummell stopped to talk to someone and I halted automatically with him, but with a hand firmly under my elbow, Thorn pushed me on. I made a noise of protest to which Thorn deigned to reply.

'Delightful as it would be to watch the Beau demolish Mrs. Dow for the bird's nest that seems to be residing in her hair. I have no desire to be caught in conversation with her... unmarried daughter.' That wasn't what he had been about to say, I glanced back and saw the look that followed him by the young blonde by her side, and had no difficulty in naming her as a calculating fortune-hunter. Hmmm - how about desperate daughter? Thorn pulled me on relentlessly, explaining that 'We will wait outside.' Having seen the daughter I made no protest. Anyway, I welcomed the chance to talk to Thorn alone - divide and conquer and all that.

We had by this time reached the doors to the terrace and out of long habit I glanced around to see who was observing our escape. A quick look assured me that we were watched by few: attention was focused elsewhere - on Mr. Brummell, to be precise, who at this point had pulled out his eyeglass and appeared to be inspecting Mrs. Dow's hair. Her pheasant feather trembled under the strain of such scrutiny. I have no doubt that it shall be positively limp before this evening's end.

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