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It is a truth, I think now universally acknowledged, that the worst thing that can happen to disturb the peace of Miss Catherine Bennet undoubtedly will happen, and if this requires that she become happy so that she has all the further to fall then all the better. Tally-Ho. Jolly good.
Perhaps this was just a particularly fatalistic mood of mine, but I beg of you to consider the facts: but two weeks before meeting Lily I was Brummell's protégé, the Toast of the Ton, and I was finally beginning to act as if I were a lady and obtain some of the higher social graces. In addition to this heady list of achievements (oh yes - and I finally mastered irony) are things that really matter: I was now closer to Lizzy than I had ever been before, and had some friends of my own, some proper friends - Georgie, Tilly, Richard and Thorn. These were people of sense and honour who wanted to be with me, enjoyed my company and who did not merely tolerate or humour me. Then in but a few short days I was rudely stripped of many of these comforts. True, I was still well thought of amongst the Ton, but I think that this may not necessarily always be a good thing and in truth is more often a burden - my deep-seated need to sometimes do silly and irreverent things often struggled to overcome my decorum. Blowing a raspberry in the middle of a ball, no matter how boring or deserving the recipient, is a crime worthy of rustication. However, even this knowledge does not stop the thought - the temptation still exists. But I digress from my list of woes. Lizzy was steadily becoming more rapped up in her pregnancy and home life. I understood that that was only natural and though I begrudged the loss of a sister I supposed this was to be expected - she has a new life now. No, it was the rest of that list which was determined to fall in around my ears: Georgie, after a devastating revelation which split my loyalties to pieces, was ignoring me; Thorn had, without him having the smallest inkling, either surpassed the 'best friend' definition by a few thousand miles, or was as far from being my closest friend as possible, depending on which one looked at it - he and his Lady were certainly key to my misery and restless moments. Tilly was in the country with problems of her own, and Richard was too busy doing whatever it is he does to notice my unhappiness, and even if he were to notice it what could I say? Would he not also have divided loyalties - the cousin he adores, the best friend and I? No I could not put him in such a position and so I stood alone.
And in the face of these challenges did I shine? Did I rise to the challenges set before me? To do so would certainly be a monument to my character but no, my reaction was that I regressed once more into the sulky child that was so well known in Longbourn.
Thus it was that any feelings of bubbliness and optimism that I had woken up with that fateful morning were long gone and in the carriage home from Lady Carstair's I was positively morose as I wallowed in what had occurred and the points against me. Lizzy and Georgie noticed - I could feel their eyes on me, but I did not acknowledge it. Lizzy has her pregnancy and needs to be protected; Georgie I could never tell. So instead of conversation we sat in silence. Even the rain had stopped so there was not the sound of that to distract us, or the safe topic of the English weather to occupy us - how ironic! On arriving at the town house I made straight for the stairs without so much as a word. I heard rather than saw Lizzy hold Georgie back and then go into the library, what concern of that is mine? I would face them later, at that moment my only thought was to be alone.
Once in my room I threw off my gloves and my beloved coat and collapsed on the bed. I was content to survey the ceiling and my most recent conversation. It had been difficult to know who was more embarrassed - Lily or I, after she revealed her true identity. My, how dramatic that sounds - quite the gothic romance! Unlike the novel though, where I would have either stabbed her with the handy penknife that Thorn had given me as a token of his love at his tender farewell scene, or burst into a flood of tears, I think we both blushed and fell to contemplating interesting things around us, like carpets, all the better not to have to look the other in the face. I remember that I wanted to be sick, and that I felt faint.
This lovely woman was Thorn's past? She had not been at all what I had expected; here was not someone who I could hate with equanimity. I had imagined a shrew with ulterior motives, but I liked her!
Why couldn't life be simple?
Eventually, well reasonably it could only have been minutes at most, I gathered the courage to look at her and was shocked to see tears in her eyes as she stared in a kind of daze at my clasped hands that lay in my lap. Impulsively I leant over to her and reached for her -
'Mrs. Hampton...' She grabbed my hand and it held it so that it almost hurt. In a rush of words she started to explain herself.
'Oh my dear Kitty, I am so sorry to hurt you but you see I love him so much, and this is the only way that I...' She choked and I understood at once - apparently I am transparent for Lily Hampton certainly knows of my love for Thorn. I felt a rising sense of shame and I too felt close to tears. Dear God what a mess!
Where is my much-vaulted pride now? A secret I did not share with my nearest and dearest is in the possession of a stranger to me - and this is the one thing above all others that I would hide. I had one consolation - surely she would never tell Thorn.
I closed my eyes and heaved a silent sigh. What was done was done, there was no point in crying over spilt milk - that could come later - now the question had to be how best to rectify this mess. One thing was certain - it could not be done here, all eyes were on us. To my surprise I had a happy thought.
'Is not Lady Carstair's famed for her family portraits?'
I received a grateful smile and my partner managed to regain something of her composure.
'Why yes, Miss Bennet, you are quite right. I have been in this house several times and I believe that Mary would not wish for me to stand upon ceremony, would you like me to show them to you?'
I nodded and we rose. Every eye was on us as we made our way out of the room. I felt like a character from a farce and had I not been so distraught I am sure would have had a hard time keeping my composure. I could see Lizzy's concern. I had no more time than to give a quick reassuring smile as I passed. I had worries enough of my own.
The gallery was at the back of the house and was well lit by the sunlight. Once there I found that my courage failed me and instead of tackling my problems head on as is my wont, I found myself being evasive and I merely admired the pictures and made the normal appreciative noises - 'oh's', 'ah's' and 'oh, how lovely's!' It was in the middle of one such exclamation that Lily could stand no more.
'Miss Bennet...'
'Catherine please, or Kitty.' I quickly broke in, smiling to take away the rudeness but I was a bit shocked, now what had made me say that? I hate to be called Catherine! The formality of her address also worried me - she had called me Kitty once before...I twisted Thorn's ring around my finger until I caught myself and stopped this nervous gesture.
'And I am Lily.' She smiled too, although it was a wan imitation of genuine pleasure. In fact, thinking over it I realised that we had both been excessively polite throughout the whole exchange - perhaps we did not want to hurt the other's feelings or maybe it was the delicacy of the situation that forced it upon us. I did not answer, I not sure I could have even if her comment had required one. I glanced away and studied the carpet once more. This one was a sort of rose colour.
'You must think me awfully cruel...' She trailed away wistfully and delicately averted her face. My head shot up.
'Oh no!' I denied it whist wondering where this was going. Lily wandered over to the window and played with the curtain tassel.
'You are very kind to say so but I am aware that that is a lie.' She swung around to face me. I was astonished by the grief on her face. 'But in truth I am a very selfish creature - my own folly has brought me to this point, and I can only hope that you will one day forgive me.' Her aspect was so sincere and only a blind fool could not have seen her very real pain - fool is a title I do not deny, but blind...?
I made polite noises of refute, is she is selfish then what words would you use to describe me? Lily fell to contemplating the curtain once more.
'But you see I feel the need to share talking about him with someone, and as you are such a close friend of Thorn's I am sure that you will not mind.' I could not ignore the appeal in her voice, whatever the cost to me.
'No...'
'And all I can be to him now is a friend also.' Lily was quite firm on this point, haughty almost and I blushed to the roots of my hair as I took her message - there was to be no affair here then? I blush even now to think of her bluntness, but at the time I did not know whether to rejoice that she was not Thorn's mistress or if, in a very funny and perverse way, that almost did not make it worse. Their relationship was something that I could not fathom. But I was ashamed too - I had been having such doubts about his character and yet I know that his honour and morals are second to none. I am sure that someone very wise once said that love makes a fool of us all, how very right they were - they turn black into white and back again.
'He has talked of me?' a cold comfort perhaps, but I felt the need to ask. Lily turned to face me, more confident all of a sudden.
'Oh yes, when he visited us in January you were often in the conversation' So that is where Thorn went in his mysterious disappearance! Really, I should have guessed - I am such a simpleton! Ah, but of course that explains the 'bad news' he received and the hangover -he was steeling himself for what he knew must hurt him. My Thorn! My poor, poor Thorn! I felt a rush of protectiveness - I suppose that is what love is though, looking out for the other person even when doing so breaks your heart. Lily became quite contemplative. ''I was surprised that he was quite harsh on you in the beginning, for it is unlike Thorn to make such a decided opinion so quickly, and most unlike him to be so very wrong!' I could see that she meant for this to be a complement, but it smarted still. I remembered well what he had said and I blushed to think of the uncharitable picture he must have painted. 'I believe that Thorn now quite thinks of you as a younger sister and has told me many times in his letters of your amusing ideas, I really believe he enjoys protecting you from the big bad world!' How nice. 'Like Georgiana in fact.' Cold comfort indeed! Poor Georgie! There seemed to be no reply to this and so perhaps it was fortunate that it was at this point that we were interrupted by a whole group of ladies all more interested in our conversation than in the portraits on the wall. It had not been long before Lizzy had taken my hint and we had withdrawn.
I had also taken the hint - I was Thorn's friend, like a sister to him really. Lily had tried to let me down gently. In a way I was grateful and in another I was sorry - the truth is easier to face once it is verbalised. My, how awfully noble that sounds! In truth I was just overwhelmed by feelings of self-pity. What on earth was I going to do? I now discarded my tentative plans to discover Thorn's true feelings - surely they were plain enough now, why should I torture myself on the subject - it is not as if he is worth it.
Oh Lord, but he is!
No, I would not cry. I would not! Calm. Dignified. Ladylike. Breathe Kitty.
I could face no one in the state I was in and I only went downstairs again that day to claim the headache and beg to be excused from our evening excursion. Everyone was very understanding - Lizzy was concerned and offered to stay behind but I would not hear of it. I went to bed that evening certain that nothing could make the situation any worse. Of course, have I not said enough for it to be perfectly obvious that I was wrong - after all, it is a truth universally acknowledged...
The next morning was not one of my greatest triumphs. I think that this was not wholly unconnected with the fact that I woke up with a recalcitrant hairstyle, pessimistic outlook and foul temper. Cause or effect? Well, in all fairness I am in no position to judge. According to Richard, who I passed in the hall - he was off to his club after having eaten Lizzy's food, I had merely got out of bed the wrong side. He had an aspect about him which I did not trust in the least, but I was in no temper to question Richard's knowing looks. I also did not appreciate the humour in his suggestion that perhaps it would be best if I went back to bed and tried again, but nevertheless I rose to the occasion and dragged myself to break my fast. After a quick glance around I immersed myself in tea and toast. Luckily there was just Georgie in the breakfast room and as we were ignoring each other still there was no need for small talk. That suited me just fine.
I think that I managed to maintain that hard line attitude for perhaps a whole five minutes, although in truth it was probably less. But you see the problem was that foul mood or no I really did care whether Georgie and I were friends or not - she matters to me. This sudden distance between us bothered me greatly, and with all that was going so horribly badly in my life I wanted, needed, to have it narrowed. So I started, casually of course, glancing across the table at her, just to gauge her mood. Subtlety is now my middle name. Mostly Georgie did an excellent imitation of someone wholly concentrating on putting conserve on their toast, but once or twice I caught her watching me as well. It was then that I decided that enough was enough - we were both charading as grown ladies after all - this was ridiculous!
'Georgie...'
'Yes.' She replied readily enough, but wouldn't look at me. I had a premonition and a funny feeling of desperation - I mean if I could just make this right then that would be something surely? And if I didn't...
'Don't you think we, well...that perhaps we should discuss...?'
Georgie put down her knife and bread and stared at her plate. I waited to hear her judgment.
'No.' There was determination in that tone for all that is was huskily said. For me it was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. There is only so much that a human soul can bear, and with everything that had happened I just could not sit there any longer pretending to be polite. I stood up and threw my napkin on the table, wanting nothing more than to be gone. Georgie looked up, and there was distress on her face, but she made no move to stop me. Friend indeed! Tears were perilously close. Amazing, I would have thought that I had cried myself dry by now.
To my horror, the door opened at this point and the rather forbidding butler entered with the morning's mail. The ritual had to be completed and I was forced to wait until his duties were finished with all of their usual officiousness before I could make good my escape.
'Miss Darcy' a small bow and a look of respect, 'you have one item of mail.'
'Thank you.'
I closed my eyes and prayed for deliverance.
'Miss Bennet...' There was the usual haughty tone of disdain for me, that managed to suggest, without a wrong word, that I was merely a hanger-on to the great Darcy fortune. I have always found this rather amusing and consoled myself with the thought that my opinion of him is not much higher than his of me. Today I could not stand it.
I opened my eyes and practically grabbed the proffered letters out of his hand.
'Thank you.' A wide and completely insincere smile winged its way to him and I ran out of the breakfast room, up the stairs and into my room, leaning against the door as I spent the last of my energy.
Peace.
Thoughts crowded in on me. I needed a distraction.
Now what to do?
I glanced down and saw Maria Lucas's handwriting. Ah - a welcome sight. Now, something couldn't possibly go wrong there...could it? Well knowing my luck it probably could but I decided to chance it and made myself comfortable in the big chair by the window. If I was to have a shock then it was probably best that I was sitting down. I'm not a fainting daisy by nature but one never knows what one may stretch to in these hard times.
I read my letter.
No, there was nothing wrong with Maria - in fact everything was perfect! Maria was engaged to an officer in the 5th! Their entire story was in the letter, which was more of a Saga, as well as an apology for not having written sooner but, and I could easily imagine her blushes as she penned it, she found that she did not want to write until there was good news to write about. Apparently dearest Edward had been on leave and was visiting a school friend in the neighbouring town of Ch*******. Maria and he had met at a ball, soon fallen in love and he had courted her in the time-honoured way. Last Tuesday he had approached her father and they were to be married within the month. Well thank goodness something was going right! Finally! Maria also had a question which gave me pause for thought - she knew that I was busy with my season, but she would be greatly honoured to have me as her bridesmaid, if it wasn't too much bother of course. That made me smile - always so considerate, even about her own wedding!
That I would accept I did not pause to question. But now I had two options: I could either leave for the country now and be involved in every step of the wedding, in which I would probably be quite surplus to requirements as Lady Lucas would organise the whole and Maria would be with her Beau; or only go for the ceremony. Returning to Hertfordshire seemed very appealing at that moment, but my problem was that I couldn't decide whether that would be classified as running away from my problems, doing the right thing, or a tactical retreat?
And I wouldn't see Thorn again. Although that was partly the purpose, the very thought cut me to the quick.
Even this piece of happy news is not without it's difficulty it seems. Oh Lord, what to do? I stared absently down into my lap when I became aware that there was another letter for my attention...
I knew that handwriting!
Lydia.
The thought did not fill my heart with joy.
Well it never rains but it pours.
Trying to be philosophical did not help. Mental note to self: proven Mary wrong on this, must remember to bring it up. Humph, she would probably just say that I 'wasn't applying the right and proper principles' or some such nonsense.
I looked at it for some moments. I think I was hoping that the letter would magically disappear. My happiness at Maria's news had been quickly eclipsed by a deep sense of dread. No doubt Richard and Thorn would laugh at me were they to know, calling me a silly female. I like to think that it was an educated presentment based on a long acquaintance with my sister.
Miracles do not happen: the letter stayed in my lap.
It was with a great sense of trepidation that I broke the seal. Looking back I wish that I had never seen it and that I had followed my first instincts and thrown it on the fire, but hindsight is a poor friend.
I read the letter in a trice. Then I decided that I must have got it all wrong and read it again, but the words were the same and one thing was now certain - I had now hit rock bottom - everything was going, horribly, horribly wrong.
Lydia's handwriting was worse than usual and a horrid smell of alcohol permeated the pages - uh!
But to summarise the main points:
Lydia and Wickham were in London and they wanted to see me on my own. The very fact that they specified this was enough to send chills down my spine, but to continue - Lydia was sure that I would understand - Lizzy was never as close to us and she wanted to catch up on old times without their stuffy presence putting a damper on things (her words not mine). I was quite surprised for I would have thought that Lydia would have enjoyed waltzing up to the Townhouse and demanding tea. She would announce as she went to one and all that she was Mrs. Darcy's sister, stand aside please. Is it cruel of me to think so? Perhaps, but is it unjust? I was also hurt that Lydia thought that I would enjoy this escapade - was I ever so reckless, so thoughtless as her? It didn't bear thinking about. My pessimistic mood answered the questions that Lydia's letter posed me:
Would it not be a grand adventure for me? No.
I could sneak out of the house that night and return in the early morning and no one would be the wiser. Unless I was caught of course, then the cat would really be amongst the pigeons.
Did I not long to see her? I am forced to say again, and quite frankly, no.
Did she not have so much to tell me? I rather thought not for the first half of her letter was filled with news - parties, her 'escape' from Newcastle and the people chasing them. She spoke of The Grand Adventure of it all and how they were now 'Soldiers of Fortune' surviving on their wits with little to line their pockets. I think I was supposed to be impressed, I only felt sickened. That my sister should have sunk so low!
But although the tales she told disgusted me they were not the reason for my horror. You see Lydia confided in me that they had a great laugh up their sleeve. There was a wine stain then and some blotting of the ink, but by dint of a great amount of squinting I managed to make out something about 'incriminating letters' (it was spelt incinerating, but I think that is not what she meant), a 'tender young love' ( Lydia dramatises when excited) and Georgiana? . If I wished to know more I was to meet them that night at ...(an inn I recognised by the address as being in not the best part of London) yours etc. etc.
My mind started working overtime piecing all of the information I knew together until I came up with the only thing that worked - Georgie had a History with Wickham! No! I will not believe it! Georgie has far too much taste, she would never be taken in by that odious man! True they grew up together and true he does not appear to be odious at first, but she has too much discernment, too much modesty...And even if she had then William would never have allowed it! No I will not believe such a thing of her. There is another explanation that I am too dim-witted to see.
But that still meant that there was something else about Georgie that Lydia and Wickham knew.
Oh Lord!
I placed a hand on my stomach to settle the queasy feeling that had set in.
Oh Lord!
The shame was incredible. I hoped for a second that this was a silly joke, but then realised it wasn't.
Try to be reasonable Kitty - what is the worst that could happen?
My thoughts could be correct, which they aren't of course, and Lydia and Wickham release Georgie's letters to the gossipmongers after extorting money from William. Georgie would be ruined in reputation and in mind. It would destroy William, and Lizzy. Mama would be in fits and confined to her room for months - perhaps even provoke a real attack of nerves; Papa wouldn't know how to hold up his head. And Thorn? Oh Lord, he would stand by them I know it, but surely it would ruin any chance, however slim, that Georgie had with him!
No! My imagination was just running away with me!
But whatever they are up to, it just could not be good!
Without realising it I found myself pacing the carpet, the letter scrunched up in my hand.
What could I do? What choices did I have?
None- I would have to meet them.
I felt ill at the prospect.
Did I really have to face them alone? Well who could I take? Georgie? Out of the question! Lizzy I couldn't tell - in her delicate condition? For goodness sake! Thorn I couldn't tell even were he here - Georgie loves him and I am too ashamed of my connections, and I am ashamed of being ashamed. Richard and William would probably kill Wickham, or at the very least they would certainly not approve and then who knows what Lydia and Wickham would do? And what if they knew nothing of what Lydia was to tell me? If they found out a secret of Georgie's and were disappointed in her? No, there is no one else. So it was up to me.
What I needed was a plan.
Preferably a plan that got Lydia and Wickham as far away from us as possible, that would be just the ticket!
Wait...
Far away...
Ticket...
That's it!
Well, a good basis for a plan at least! So basic premise - get Lydia and Wickham to accept a ticket to...Australia. But how?
More pacing followed this. I was interrupted by a knock on the door.
'Come in!'
Lizzy. Automatically I put the letter behind my back. It would seem that furtiveness comes naturally to me. Perhaps tonight will not be so bad.
'Good morning, Kitty. Are you well this morning?' I managed a shadow of a smile.
'I am a bit better thank you.' I was on the receiving end of a penetrating look, and was conscious of the paper burning a hole in my hand. Then Lizzy smiled too.
'Then you will come to Mrs. Pollock's tea party, then?' Lizzy has the knack of asking a question in such a way that one is completely unable to refuse without making an utter fool of oneself. Thus it was, when I really needed the entire day to scheme and plan I found myself nodding like a simpleton.
Life does not get any easier.
For the most part the tea party was a dull repetition of any other social engagement with the added excitement of the animal heads stuck on the wall. Well, I am sure that they were exciting for some. Apparently Mr. Pollock was a great shot in his time. In my opinion that is all very well - William is a great reader and yet he does not feel the need to frame every book and display it for the world to see. My nerves chaffed at the need to think and plan that was thwarted by mindless inanities. It was no surprise to me that I soon developed the headache.
Fortunately there was some intelligent conversation to be had and there were opportunities for catching up on old friends: Mr. Calder was there. Apparently he had been attending to some business at his brother's estates for the last week, had I missed him? I gave him the reply that a modest young lady ought and soon we exchanged all of the usual pleasantries and I found that, despite everything, I was laughing and forgetting my troubles. Here was a friend indeed! It was during a pause in our conversation that he enquired, with more than casual interest, as to whether I was quite well. I assured him, with little respect for the truth, that I was perfectly well thank you very much, what was there about me to find fault? Mr. Calder was not deceived by my playful question and assured me that I was as perfect as ever, but that I looked tired. I blushed and was silent. I had no wish to lie to him. He then took my hand and assured me in a low voice that a problem shared was a problem halved. And for a moment I seriously considered it - Mr. Calder is so very clever and I was sure that he could come up with a better solution to my problem than my current half baked one, thought up in the carriage, after all kidnapping Lydia and Wickham and stowing them away on the boat to Australia is hardly practical. But I could not. Embarrassment at my sister's behaviour stopped me, that and the knowledge that Mr. Calder, in his role as social commentator, was one of the very people that they would send their scandal to. In a shaking voice I assured him again that I was fine, it was nothing. I could stand it no more and rose, ostensibly to find refreshment. Mr. Calder rose too and insisted on escorting me. I was glad that he did not press the issue further, but still found an excuse to leave his side.
My other conversation of interest was with Mr. Brummell. To give a potted version of our talk: he hailed me and we took a turn around the room together. I was complimented on my sage dress and, my spirits rising to playfulness once more, I gave him my hand and a curtsey as a thank you. Mr. Brummell was arrested by the sight of Thorn's ring which, perhaps unwisely, I had not taken off. Mr. Brummell brought out his eyeglass to examine it all the better. I was blushing like fury by this point. He enquired as to where I had got it and I realised that I was on the end of a penetrating look, all Mr. Brummell's pretense at indolence gone. I could not see any harm in telling the truth, or anything of significance in the ring to merit the interest that Mr. Brummell was giving it. True it is unusual for a woman to receive the gift of jewelry from a male friend, but not beyond the pale. When I enquired as to what he found to interest him Mr. Brummell gave me a stranger look still, smartly followed by a glance of amusement and told me that it was not his place. I was thoroughly bamboozled. Anyway, it was not Mr. Brummell's reaction to the ring that I wished to mention but what he said - 'Ah well, I am sure that Darcy is quite capable of defending your honour.' I did not question what he meant as I was too busy having a moment of enlightenment.
My problems were solved.
It was simple, it was so very simple! Lydia and Wickham couldn't hide in London, I mean they had been found the last time and now with their depleted funds they had no chance - I merely had to threaten them with Richard and William. Wickham is afraid of William, I am sure of it - I certainly would not wish to see William in anger. Oh, the relief was immense. All I had to do was get my money from William's safe - no problem I would inform him that I wished to manage my own money and then claim to have bought many frivolous items. The deception would hurt me, but not so much as him knowing the truth, get the tickets and meet them that night!
I could have hugged Mr. Brummell and promptly told him so. He looked astonished at my reply and my beaming face. The shout of laughter he gave could, I am sure, be heard in Hertfordshire. He desired that I did not as he was wearing a new coat and would not upset the fit, but wished to know what he had done to merit such a response. I dimpled and told him that he had solved a rather knotty problem of mine. I was all gratitude.
'Miss Bennet, you constantly amaze me.' It was plain from the way he said it that Mr. Brummell meant this to be a compliment. I was radiant with relief and happiness.'
'I thank you once more.' And so we went on. My mood was dimmed when he asked if I had met Lily Hampton yet. I answered truthfully that I had made her acquaintance the previous day.
'And what did you think of her?'
'In truth I know not what to think.'
'Perhaps that is as well. I am glad that you do not listen to gossip Miss Bennet. Ah, I see that your sister has come to take you away.' And so we took our leave.
And bar Gussie, who came running out to the carriage as we left and pressed a piece of paper into my hand as we drove away, that was an end to the day's excitements. Another poem for my collection I suppose. With an effort I returned Lizzy's smiles. I then stared out of the window, my heart heavy with what I had to do that night.
Courage Kitty, courage.
All in all it was an eventful night that I know that I shall never, ever, forget.
The thing was that it all started out so well- to my surprise getting out of the house itself proved to be no problem at all, and was in fact the simplest thing about the whole nasty business. I would like to put this down to my innate ingenuity and cleverness but I could see the merits of the argument that this was just a deceitful side of my personality coming to the fore and so, given the nature of my mission, I was not about to make a great deal out of it. I had found it a bit worrying earlier in the evening that everyone seemed to accept my sombre mood and really rather lame excuses without question. It was most unlike our gregarious family to let such pass without comment, but then again we had not been so gregarious of late, in fact I don't think we had all really laughed since Thorn left, but I will not think on that. I think William was concerned about me, the dear man, and I heard him suggest that my seriousness was probably exhaustion from too many parties and social events. As far as I could gather Lizzy did not deign this with a reply but merely laughed at him. Quite right too - exhaustion? I? Oh, please! It is a source of great embarrassment to me that I couldn't come up with anything better and was forced to cite that as my reason for being unable to attend that night's function. I felt awful as I lied through my teeth to those I respect and care about most and declared my intention of going to bed as soon as they had left for the ball that night (fortunately this was a large affair - they wouldn't get away until the wee small hours) and found as a consequence that I was unsettled for the rest of the evening.
There was a moment of crises for when they all finally went out as I felt terribly alone, and felt that I was probably an idiot - how could my plan ever work? How could I expect to pull this off? No, I was much better waiting for William to come back and I could tell him everything. Only I couldn't really, could I? I strengthened my resolve.
I believe that, in general, there are moments for reflection and self-discovery etceteras, but I also think that there are moments when one simply must act. A simple premise, perhaps but this is what Mary does not understand - she reflects too much; what Lydia does not understand - she reflects not at all; and (dare I say it) what Jane understands but is not prepared to act on -she sits as patience on a monument smiling at grief. I cannot. I have reflected - I have found out more truth about myself in these last few months, and these last few days than I am prepared to take. There is time enough to cry and lament later. Now I must do what I had settled on, there can be no refusing my fences.
Wearing an old dress and bonnet that I had brought from home in a spirit of rebellion after Mama telling me to pack all of my best things, I crept out the back, being careful to leave the small window in the scullery on the latch - I would need a way back in after all and I knew that it would not be found.
See - simple.
Getting the tickets for my 'fantastic devious plan', however, almost proved to be more bother than they were worth. Firstly I was petrified - I made my way down to the docks and was cringing in fear of every man who passed me until I realised how stupid I was being - I would never get on at this rate. But the shipping offices were closed by the time I got lost and found my way there. I had pinned my hope on the thought that a clerk may have stayed behind for some last minute accounts. I remembered reading in one of the papers (I think that was at the point when I was trying to broaden my mind, before I realised how dull that would make me) that under-clerks are grossly overworked. Apparently this is not true of the clerks who work for the shipping lines. I declare that I banged on the window for above ten minutes, and I thought that I had run out of luck. I was considering what best next to do when a young boy accosted me. From his height he was perhaps seven, from his confidence I would guess thirty. Anyway, in a tone of great authority he asked what I was doing. Seeing nothing amiss in this I told him that I was trying to get some tickets but that the office appeared to be shut. He gave me a knowing look which I took exception to and quelled with a haughty reserve developed in the hallowed halls of Almacks. He was no match for this and said that 'Old Jed' in the Crock and Mantle pub on the corner of Witherspoon Street would be able help me with my search for tickets. I was not so green that I did not question him further. I found that apparently Old Jed is one of these people who can get anything for anyone, well as long as he likes you that is. I thanked him, relieved that I could stick to my plan, then my curiosity (and sense of humour) got the better of me and asked how the boy knew this. He screwed up his face and wiped his dirty nose on his sleeve before saying, and I quote, 'that I knows evr'yfing, I's do'. I was hard pressed not to smile, for I did not think that he would take it kindly. I was about to ask more but then he became distracted by a fight that had broken out down the street and I was abandoned for a source of much greater amusement. London? City of Culture, Centre of excellence for the known the world? Jewel in the Crown of the British Empire? I wonder if the people who wrote that had been down to the Embankment? Somehow I doubt it.
I made my way to the Crock and Mantle forthwith, and found it more by luck than by skill. I loitered around outside considering what best to be done. Having got this far I found that I still had to steel my nerve to the sticking point. You see I had never actually been inside a tavern like this before and the prospect worried me not a little. I was 'encouraged' to go inside not by the considering looks I was getting, those I could ignore, but when one of the men actually dared to approach me! Well, enough was enough. I put him firmly in his place and swept in through the door in the manner of a grand duchess.
I had to pause at the entrance to allow my eyes to accustom themselves to the darkness and the smoke. I found it unnaturally quiet and realised with a fright that everyone was looking at me. Quite naturally I think, I was frightened, but I would not back down - stubbornness has some advantages after all. I gathered my courage in both hands and said as best as I was able.
'I am looking for 'Old Jed', I was told that he could help me.'
I have heard of an Arabian Tale where there is a magical word that allows the hero into a cavern that reveals wonders. I had obviously found the Crock and Mantle equivalent for at once everyone relaxed and an old voice from the fire announced that he was Old Jed. Relieved I made my way over, although I found that I could still feel the eyes following me. It was apparent the Old Jed controlled the room, for before I reached him he stood and glanced around in the manner of one who was saying 'and what exactly do you think you are looking at?' At once everyone started talking again. It is strange how some people have that certain aura of authority about them. Charles Bingley certainly does not have it, but William does. Richard and Thorn both have it, perhaps this is as they have been in the military, but whatever that intangible quality is, Old Jed certainly had it.
I smiled my thanks and found that I was coolly being surveyed by a pair of bright eyes behind a bushy grey beard. He was perhaps sixty years old, maybe younger but careworn. I took this chance and surveyed him also. I liked what I saw - he had that dependable look about him. He also has something that suggests that he is a knowing one. I decided that I had best be careful. I stood until he was finished, apparently I passed his inspection for I was waved into the seat opposite his. He settled himself in his chair and took up his pipe while I took my seat. I did not want to appear ill at ease and so I waited for him to talk first - this was not until his pipe was lit and he had taken a few puffs. At this rate I was sure that I would soon have nerves like Mama.
'What can I do to help you, little lady?' I saw no point in beating about the bush.
'I require tickets to Australia.'
A long draw on the pipe followed my bald announcement. Once more I found myself on the receiving end of his stare. I raised my chin. I do not know what I expected next, a protest perhaps or a refusal, but certainly not for the order Old Jed tossed an over his shoulder.
'Get the lady a drink.' I remained silent until a warm cloudy glass of the most foul tasting thing that it has ever been my misfortune to drink was placed in front of me. I sipped politely and then put it down, managing to control my features by an act of will. Ugh!
'What would you be wanting that for then?'
For a moment I thought of lying but then I had lied enough, and was not my reason a good one? It was my turn to scrutinise Jed. That aura of power was still there, and for some silly reason, call it what you will - I will name it woman's intuition, I felt that I could trust him. So after a brief pause I told the truth.
'There is going to be a dreadful scandal involving one of my friends and I need the tickets to stop it.'
Bushy eyebrows were raised.
'There's more likely to be a scandal if you get them I would say.' I blushed as I caught his meaning, and violently protested.
'No no, I am not going to elope.' I lowered my voice and leaned in. I found myself clutching my reticule so tightly that my hands hurt. I had trust this man and it was plain that I had to risk all by telling him the whole - no less would satisfy and satisfy him I must if I was to get my tickets. 'My sister married beneath her', I made a gesture of distaste as I was annoyed at myself for the wording - I wanted to explain what I meant. The words continued to gush out of me. 'I do not men in wealth only, he is a man of good birth but base character. He has fallen and pulled her with him in social standing, morals, dignity and now, now I firmly believe they are shortly about to blackmail my friend for some youthful indiscretion.'
'What indiscretion is that?' I made a sound of desperation.
'I don't know. What does it signify anyway? She is my friend!' I pleaded with my eyes, with every nerve of my body I tried to express my need. 'But I have to stop them and the only way I can do that is to get them away. I need those tickets.'
Old Jed lay back and smoked his pipe. All of the air in my lungs rushed out as I lay back exhausted. I remained on tenterhooks, however. Suddenly he began to laugh. To my surprise he put down his pipe, and gave me a nod of approval.
'Aye lass there ain't many like you that's for sure. I'll help you. What's your name?' I was wholly exhilarated - I had done it! Against the odds as well!
' Kitty.' I replied before I thought to lie, I couldn't really bring myself to care though and find that I was still grinning like an idiot.
'And I am Jebediah Judd, or Old Jed to you. Well, Kitty-girl, as I sees it the most difficult thing will be to get your sister to take those tickets and use em. Had you thought about that?' I felt as if I was back in Papa's study being reprimanded once again for not having thought through my actions.
'I know.' At once I was depressed again.
'Nay lass, don't get all down in the dumps about it - you've got old Jed on your side now. First thing is to get them tickets! George!' I jumped as, without turning or pausing to take breath, he called out the name. A swarthy thickset man came over to our table. I don't know if his would be able to remember when he last washed. Despite Old Jed he scared me so I fell to contemplating my drink. 'You got tickets to 'ustralia?'
George stroked his chin and looked at me with a knowing look. By this point I was sick of these and so scared or no I gave him as good as he got. Again is seemed that I passed some unknown test for he nodded and looked back at Jed.
'Australia no. America I can manage.'
'Better yet. Get them now.'
'Can you pay?' This was an insolence that demanded a raised eyebrow.
'Yes. Get them, please. I will pay.' I may have mistaken the look of respect that crossed George's face, but I fancy not. Old Jed got to business once more as soon as he left.
'That's all the better for you lass, be able to sell that to your sister - grand adventure can become one of them new gentry. Where are you to meet them?'
I gave him the name of the establishment. Old Jed gave a low whistle.
'Bad place that, best not to go there on your own. In fact t'would have been better to have not done any o' this on your own. You not got a man?' My thoughts immediately flew to Thorn and I blushed but shook my head.
'Like that is it?' He gave a hearty laugh and slapped his knee. 'Will my boy Jed'll see you to the pub. He and his cousin Charlie 'll hang around un all - make sure your little sister don't try any funny business. Don't like the sound of this brother in law of yours - sounds like a right nasty piece of work and that's a fact. Can't help you with getting them to take the tickets, though, that bit you'll have to do on your own. You knows 'er best.'
I was profuse in my thanks.
They were waved away. 'No lass, I used to work for Lord Caltrell in my youth, was his tiger so I knows that it ain't all that often that you meet a proper lady - and that's what you are lass, a proper lady.' He cleared his throat as if embarrassed. 'Now drink up - that'll give you a bit o' fighting spirit.'
'Yes Old Jed.' I replied meekly and demurely sipped once more at the revolting warm brew in my hand.
In under an hour I said goodbye to my new friends in the Crock and Mantel and was escorted to my destination by two taciturn men of about thirty. They were as night and day. Charlie (a strapping boy) was as quiet as could be, but young Jed talked away quite the thing. It was as we drew near to our rendezvous point with Lydia that I began to get nervous - oh not of my companions, no Jed had said that no harm would come to me and I believed him. But Lydia... it had been over eight months since I had seen her last - what was she going to be like? So much had changed in my life, did she know?
That was a point actually - did Lydia know all that has happened to me. I began to tell it to her in my letters but Lydia's replies never give any hint of her having read them... My goodness, she doesn't know that I'm popular in the Ton! Well now, I wonder if I can use that.
I was still thinking it over when the young Jed stopped me. I could see the inn across the street and I refused to believe it was my destination as it was so dark, and well...'dingy'. I was quite sure that I could smell it from across the street.
'Right missy. Pa said that we was going to look after you and so we are. Charlie and me'll hang around the bar inside. Ain't none that'll touch us, and you go up and see your sister. If you ain't down in two hours mind then we'll come up and get ye. Right?'
'Make it an hour.' Charlie said as he saw the frank fear on my face.
'Right. An hour. Got it?'
I nodded and gave my thanks. It was hard to tell in the dark but I think they may have blushed!
'Ain't nuthin to it lass. Now off you go, wouldn't do for us to be seen going in together, not if you don't want your sister to know that you don't trust her.'
How easy it is to underestimate people merely because of birth and circumstance. My two companions had never been schooled, had awkward conversation, would be unable to write their own names and certainly had smelled of better days but I was undoubtedly accompanied that night by two of the finest, warm-hearted men in Britain.
My thanks were waved away and I was admonished for wasting time. 'Soonest started soonest over', apparently. And so it was that I made my way in. You would think that I would have been used to strange happenings, but no sooner was I in the door than I got the shock of my life for I was immediately confronted by Brother Wickham.
'Catherine.' Broad smiles, kisses on cheeks. Ugh, please! Does he think that I do not know that he is a dyed in the wool rat with no morals or conscience? Apparently so, for he did not look in the least suspicious at my rather tame greeting. I know I should have done better, but I hate deception in others and I just could not force myself to be nice, not even for Georgie. Luckily he did not take it amiss.
'Ah, sister, you are quiet I see, I hope you are not in shock? I trust that you had no problems in your journey across town. Lydia was sure that you would enjoy it, quite the adventure she thought. No? Well perhaps if you have a cup of tea you will feel better, hmmm? Come Lydia is waiting, shall we go upstairs?'
I relaxed slightly as I saw young Jed and Charlie enter through the door and, after a quick encouraging glance, make their way to the bar.
'Of course.' I managed a smile this time, but was quick to move.
I took my brothers hand and made my way to see my beloved sister.
Their room was the very back of the inn down steps, up steps, round corners. As we went the rabbit warren's furnishings seemed to get less and less nice and more and more worn. Wickham seemed to feel the need to make some excuse for this.
'I am sorry, dear sister, that you had to see our poverty. But this is sadly the case of our affairs now and I know I need have no false pride and try to hide it from you.' He then made some remarks about the injustices done to him by others, but I did not heed.
Lydia had a corner room and Wickham bowed me in before making his excuses and leaving us alone. I am not so naïve that I did not see the significant look he gave Lydia before departing. I knew they were up to something and now I was sure of it.
'KITTY!!' Lydia screamed and came rushing over to me. One thing I noticed - her dress was the same one she was wearing when she left Longbourn last so I could be sure to believe their poverty - not even for an act would Lydia deliberately wear the same dress twice for me. I also noticed that the room was barely furnished, now that I was on the look out for deception even the scantiest glance would tell me that they were not staying in this room. Apparently Wickham is not so sure of me. Oh dear!
'Lydia.' I gave a more subdued greeting. But she was my sister, and so we kissed each other on the cheek.
'You are looking well.' I loosened my coat (an old one - not Thorn's) and made to sit down by the small table. Lydia gathered some glasses and a decanter.
'And what a surprise for Wicky dear makes us live in this dump! Why, when we were in London last the inn was a thousand times nicer than this, but I suppose that now we are poor... Oh, did I tell you about us being poor?' I waved away the proffered wineglass. Lydia shrugged and took a large sip of hers.
'Yes.' I stalled her for I could see that Lydia was about to launch onto a tirade about how everything had gone horribly wrong for them, and how none of it was their fault - no doubt all of their friends had betrayed them and they were innocents in it all. Innocents my foot! Hangers on and leeches more like. But no, I must not lose my temper. I held my tongue.
'And Lizzy and Jane were of no help! My own sisters. Well Kitty, I know that you are staying with Lizzy in town, but then you always were a favourite!' Of whom? Oh, poor little Lydia! My heart bled with sympathy, truly it did. 'But still I think she could have sent more than a measly one hundred pounds. Especially when I detailed the amounts of our debts and how desperate our straits were. Jane managed to send 150 pounds and her resources are not as great as Lizzy's. Wicky and I think that it is that odious Mr. Darcy's fault. Why he...'
I could bear this no more.
'Don't speak about William like that.'
'Ohhhh!' Mistake Kitty, big mistake. I tried to back pedal, but Lydia would have none of it. I should have just left Lydia to speak the wrong things instead of making a fuss about it. Oh balderdash!
'So you are a fan of his now? That's quite a change of face. I remember when...'
'Yes well I've changed.' You have no idea how much Lydia. 'And you don't understand - he is kind and generous. He got you married Lydia, and at no mean expense.' Stop it Kitty keep your mouth closed. Next you'll be saying how he bought back your honour, and she wouldn't like that. To my surprise Lydia then started crowing, and she poured herself another glass of wine.
'I knew it wouldn't work - I told Wicky how it would be, but he said that if you were game enough to come out to see me on a night like this then you were game enough for anything.' Lydia's drunkenness disgusted me, but perhaps I could use it to my advantage?
'Game enough for what?'
'Oh come on Kitty, I am not an idiot you know, I 'm not going to tell you now.' I persevered.
'But how do you know I'll refuse if you don't ask me.' I wheedled. Lydia looked superior. 'Oh come on Lydia, please...'
'Well, I suppose there is no harm as there is nothing that you can do to stop us anyway.' She challenged me 'Anyway, I'm dying to tell someone...'
Lydia then proceeded, with embellishments and a further half of the decanter of wine, to detail the history of her husband and my good friend.
Oh dear Lord!
But Lydia did not stop there - she then went on to detail Wickham's plan. Apparently he does indeed still have letters, written by Georgie at the tender age of fifteen, saying how much she was looking forward to being his wife and how she would meet him for the elopement as planned. Lydia and Wickham thought that this letter would be worth quite a bit of money. Thirty thousand pounds worth of money. I was doing my best to look sympathetic whilst by stomach was revolting against my supper. It was at his point that I realised how utterly stupid I had been, how blindly proud. One thing was certain: William had to know, and FAST!!
The wine had a strange effect though, and one I had not counted on. Lydia forgot my former defense of William and as I nodded and smiled in all the right places, started to take my apparent sympathy for agreement! My role was simple - Wickham knew that the dangerous bit would be picking up the money and so I was going to do it. I was to be the adder in their breast and turn against them. Wickham was sure that I would not be suspected, and that only they would know that I had stronger ties, to my dearest sister, my dearest childhood friend, than to Lizzy and Georgie who were superior and who had ignored me so. I could have cried, I just wanted to be out of there, but I agreed that yes I thought they deserved it, and yes they were such hypocrites. It was as I thought that I could not take any more that there was a knock on the door. And in came Wickham. I wondered how much time had passed.
Lydia rushed over to her husband, stumbling on the way, and flung her arms around him. I gathered my things around me as Lydia told him all that she had told me and also that I was willing to help.
Wickham was not so easily fooled as Lydia.
'Well this is excellent news indeed! But, are sure that you are quite well, sister? You are very pale.'
I am sure that I must have looked decidedly green about the gills.
'Oh, Kitty is always pale.' Lydia made a dramatic gesture and almost fell over. We both ignored her. I decided that the best lies hold a grain of truth.
'Yes, but this has been something of a shock to me. I find that I cannot imagine that Georgiana and Mr. Darcy would do such a thing.'
'Oh, but she did sister, and imagine her hypocrisy. Imagine the hypocrisy of Darcy in keeping Lydia and I in such straits, when his own sister was about to do the very same? He gives us no allowance and does not even recognise the tie. His own wife's sister! Is this a man of honour?'
I shook my head obediently.
'And has Lydia told you of how he destroyed my prospects as a minister?' I gasped and again shook my head. 'That route, which was to be my inheritance and destiny, is forever closed to me now, and I find that beyond my wife, I have had no recompense in my loss of future. Mr. Darcy took away my future, and that of your sister in a vindictive revenge for a youthful love. I have been punished, truly I have. But how do I return his harshness? I do nothing, when I saw him in Meryton I held my tongue, sister, you know that - I did not share with the village the wrongs he had done me, although I may well have done.'
I nodded, amazed at his short memory. He blackened William's name for weeks! We all hated him!
'Is it right sister? Should we not get the money we deserve? I want to assure you that we would never do anything to harm Miss Darcy. That would not be right, not be gentlemanly and it is not her I have my quarrel with. Help us. Help your sister.'
I was going to be sick. Lydia looked pleased with herself and lifted her glass. I swallowed and raised my head, trying to convey a wealth of sincerity.
'I agree - I will do whatever I can to help'
A clock went somewhere and I realised that my time was drawing close - if I did not hurry then Charlie and Jed would be up and soon creating merry hell. I buttoned up my coat as I spoke.
'I have to go - my absence will be discovered if I am not back soon, but please believe that I will help you in every way that I can!'
'Oh, Kitty! I knew you would not fail us!' I had a very wet kiss planted on my cheek by Lydia, a look at Wickham told me that despite my act and his he was not convinced of my sincerity. So be it - I had methods open to me still I made a last ditch attempt.
'Can I contact you here to know what I must do.' I saw him pause for the smallest second and knew that a lie would follow.
'Of course, sister, but you must be careful. Your whole purpose pivots on the fact that you must not be suspected and so perhaps it would be best if we did not speak to you for a while, a week say at most. That would give you time to think it over, for we would not want to force you. And then we will contact you for what could be more natural than for sisters to share a letter?'
'I told you she would help us!' Lydia crowed and then started dancing around the room in a grotesque fashion.
'I have to go.' I pulled on my gloves and bonnet.
'I shall accompany you, sister.' I quickly put a stop to that!
'No, no. I assure you that it is not needed - I can mange well on my own and it would not do for William to find us together for then he would know what is afoot. I will wait to hear from you brother.' I gave him my hand for the smallest moment, said my good-byes and was gone
I did not enter the bar, but after I saw that Charlie knew I was out I went across the street and waited in the dark of a doorway to be joined by Charlie and Jed.
'Well?' I did not mince words.
'All is not well. I couldn't get them to take the tickets and I am afraid that I need to ask more from you my friends, although I will pay you well, I promise.' Charlie humphed, and Jed waved this suggestion away.
'We don't need your money, lass. What is it that you need done?'
'My sister and brother aren't really staying at this inn, the bed was not slept in and the room was too tidy. I need to know where they are staying.' Charlie nodded, but Jed asked more.
'Why, what are you going to do?'
'I can't manage this on my own. I am going to tell my other brother in law everything. He will know what to do for the best.' This was met with a look of approval from both.
'Takes a good man to know when he's beaten. T'is a good idea - right, I'll take you home. Charlie can you follow...'
'Done. Good bye, Miss Bennet. It was charming meeting you.' He made a big effort and wiped his hand before extending it to me. I shook it heartily. Thank you, Charlie.' I gave him the address of William's townhouse and we were gone.
But the adventure was not yet over, not two streets had we gone, we were not yet out of the seedier parts of London, when a hand descended onto my shoulder. My heart stopped and then pounded fiercely in my ears. I heard rather than saw young Jed being restrained and I nearly went in to heart failure, but the fear and the beating of my heart did not slow when I was turned and saw who it was that had accosted us thus.
'Thorn?'