Section I, Next Section
Part 1 Posted on Friday, 10 December 1999
This is the sequel to Determined to Love and Blind Luck
Captain Saunderson changed Catherine Bennet's life. It is not to say that the pair fell in love and were married, quite the contrary. When they first met, Kitty - for that is what she was called by everyone - fell violently in love with his uniform. Her younger sister, Lydia, encouraged her in her affection, as she too was constantly enamored of a redcoat. Kitty admired Lydia, sad to say, and never did anything that was not backed by this, the liveliest of all her sisters.
Captain Saunderson did nothing extraordinary that would encourage Kitty to think of him as she did, so we must not blame him, although he may like to take the credit. After Lydia Bennet eloped with George Wickham, one of Saunderson's companions, Kitty thought her turn would soon follow with Saunderson. Surely she would be the next sister married. It did not signify that the militia had long since moved on to Brighton, for Lydia had written constantly of dear Saunderson, saying that he seemed lost without her (Kitty), and that a proposal would most definitely be forthcoming.
But alas, winter came, and two more sisters - Jane and Elizabeth - were married, before Kitty ever heard of Saunderson again. This time, it was in a newspaper. He was married, to a girl from Brighton with a large fortune. At first, she imagined her heart to be broken, but soon realized it was not, and welcomed an invitation to her sister, Elizabeth's, townhouse for the christening of her new baby boy, Alexander.
She kept up correspondence with Lydia, although she did most of the writing herself, and therefore her passion for officers had not yet abated. Her first hint that something was wrong with herself was in London. Elizabeth's sister-in-law, Georgiana Darcy, although she tried valiantly to be patient, was obviously distressed with something about Kitty and her sister, Mary, for she was constantly excusing herself very abruptly from the room. Kitty could not but wonder what she had done to give Georgiana a disgust of her. Mary might seem oblivious to it, but she could not.
Kitty was a naturally self-conscious girl. When she had Lydia, she measured her own behaviour against her sister's, and was always pleased, for her talent for copying another's personality was very highly developed. However, with Lydia gone, the people she had to measure herself against were so completely different, they seemed almost foreign, and would have been pronounced thus, had they not been her own sister and family.
When she returned home to Hertfordshire and Longbourn, her mood had changed somewhat. Instead of giggling and flirting with every man who passed, she seemed thoughtful. This was misinterpreted by her neighbors as a broken heart, and some of the more spiteful misses in the neighborhood remarked snidely that Miss Kitty had certainly made a fool of herself over that Captain. Kitty heard one of these conversations at an assembly. Miss Long and her sister, Miss Roberta, were the culprits.
"Just look at Miss Kitty, Sister. Poor creature. Though I dare say it is all her fault. I never saw any particular fondness on the Captain's side, I am sure."
"Indeed, Roberta, though you cannot blame her for trying." Here Miss Long snickered into her handkerchief. Her sister joined in the merriment.
"I hope I would never be so silly as to fall over the feet of someone who obviously did not care three straws for me. I believe the poor Captain was merely distracted by her and her sister's wild ways, that he could not help paying them attention."
"And was he sorry when he did!"
"Yes, for then they would not let him go. And Mrs. Bennet was even worse, for encouraging such behaviour!"
"I felt so sorry for poor Saunderson."
"He is not poor anymore, Sister."
"Yes. Of course, he could not marry one of the Bennets, even if he wished to, for they are practically as church mice. It is lucky they are that Jane and Lizzy married so well. I believe I shall do like Jane, and set my cap at the first wealthy man to walk in this room."
Kitty could not stand the way they were speaking of her family anymore, and approached them with a sweet smile on her face.
"I wish you luck, my dear Miss Long, though how you will succeed is beyond me. Pray, what has become of Mr. Green, the one we were all so fond of?"
Miss Long turned purple. Two years ago, she had been on the verge of receiving a proposal from Mr. Leonard Green, or so she thought, and her family acted as though it were a set thing. But then Mr. Green left, and he had not been seen since. Miss Roberta led her sister away before she and Kitty could make a scene, and although Kitty sensed she had just had her first verbal victory, she could not help but be disappointed at the feeling it left in her stomach. She felt sick. Was she really as silly as the two Misses Long had described?
When her mother took her and Mary home, Kitty said to her sister,
"Mary, am I silly?"
Mary wished to say something profound, but could only come up with,
"I think you are, yes."
To which Mrs. Bennet interjected,
"Nonsense! Neither of you are silly. Kitty, you are pretty, and Mary is accomplished, and that is all there is to it."
Kitty, however, was now wary of her mother's strictures, and being more inclined to believe her sister, who was far more well versed in human behaviour and such, took Mary's words to heart. From that day on, she focused on being less silly. One day, her father caught her taking a book off a shelf in his library.
"Why Kitty," he said. "I am surprised. But what use could you have for a book? It is warm yet to use the pages for kindling."
"I am reading it, Papa," she said stiffly. "That is, I plan on reading it."
"I see. What book is it?"
Kitty handed it to him, and he read the title: Sense and Sensibility.
"Well," he said, astonished, "either I will have one less silly daughter from now on, or else you will begin reading sermons like your sister, and become a new kind of silly altogether. Well, go on with you. Enjoy your book. And tell me what you think of it when you are done."
Kitty smiled, gratified, and left the room. Later, when she was mulling over his words, she stumbled over what he had said about Mary. Was Mary silly, too? But Mary was so serious! Perhaps it was the extreme that was considered silly. This thought astounded her, but as she thought about her other sisters, it made sense.
Her father had no tolerance for silliness or ignorance. Although he maintained that all his daughters were silly and ignorant, he was able to stand the company of Jane and Elizabeth. Jane was sensible, true, but she went to the extreme of being nice to everybody. Elizabeth had been Mr. Bennet's favorite, loved for her wit and intelligence. Kitty could not think of anything that Lizzy carried to the extreme, except, perhaps, impertinence.
Kitty smiled. Perhaps it would not be so hard to de-sillify herself. She laughed out loud at the word she had invented, and covered her mouth with her hand, for the Bennets were in the middle of dinner. Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow at her. Mrs. Bennet smiled. Mary rolled her eyes, and began a lecture on unprovoked merriment. Kitty sighed. She could change herself, but she doubted Mary would ever change.
The next winter brought a definite change in Mary, but only in name, for she found someone to marry her. Laurence Canfield was the head clerk at their Uncle Phillips's business. He had been told that a wife would help him in his career, so he immediately sought one. Kitty thought he was dreadful, and did not hesitate to tell Mary she could do better, but Mary was determined not to be the last Bennet sister married, and she accepted Mr. Canfield's offer. Kitty knew why he chose Mary: she would not create high debts for him in running his household, as she was more frugal than even he.
Mrs. Bennet's delight in Mary's marriage resulted in much nagging on her part. Kitty was nearly one and twenty. Surely she should have been married by now. After all, Lydia had been only sixteen when she married. True, her husband was dead now, but she had been married.
This was very taxing to Kitty, who had been used thus far to being largely ignored. She was very happy, therefore, when she received a letter from her sister, Elizabeth Darcy, to come to Pemberley. She would be given a debut ball (even though she was technically already out), and if she liked, they would all go to London for the Season. She ran immediately to inform her parents.
"But is Lizzy not near her time?" asked Mr. Bennet, worried. Kitty nodded.
"Yes, but she says she shall go mad if she is not given something to do. Her confinement does not start for another month, anyway."
"Oh, my dear Kitty!" said Mrs. Bennet. "What shall I do without my dear daughter to keep me company?"
"You may visit Mrs. Long all day, every day, if you like," said Kitty. "Papa, may I go?"
"I am sure I can find no objection. And you may tell Lizzy that I wish you to elope with the most worthless man in all of London."
"Just because Lydia..." Kitty started angrily, but her father put up a hand to stop her.
"I was only teasing, Catherine. I have every confidence in you. You have grown up considerably lately. I know you will not shame the family."
"Of course not!" said Mrs. Bennet. "The Bennet name is without reproach!"
"The Wickham name, however..." said Kitty with a smile at her father, who laughed.
Part 2 Posted on Friday, 10 December 1999
When Kitty arrived at Pemberley, Elizabeth ran out to meet her, albeit rather slowly, for she was far along in her pregnancy with what would be the Darcys' second child.
"Oh, I'm so glad you are here!" she cried, flinging her arms around her younger sister's neck. Kitty was excessively surprised by this display, and before remembering her intimidation in the man's presence, looked inquiringly at Mr. Darcy, who was just behind his wife. He shrugged and smiled engagingly at her.
"I am pleased to have you here to keep Lizzy company, Miss Bennet," he said politely.
"Yes, indeed," said Elizabeth, taking Kitty's arm and leading her into the house. "Johnson, have Miss Bennet's luggage taken to the room Mrs. Reynolds has prepared for her. Catherine, we must begin preparations for your ball, if we are to have it before my confinement. Ack. I am so big. I did not get this way with Alex. I hope you will enjoy your stay here, and do not let Will frighten you. He does not mean to be so superior."
"Superior!" Darcy exclaimed. "I have barely said two words to Miss Bennet, and you condemn me as superior. I hope you will not be so quick to judge me, Miss Bennet."
"I shouldn't think of it," said Kitty, not a little intimidated. Servants were bustling all around her, taking her coat, her bonnet, her umbrella, and indeed, everything she was carrying with her besides her actual gown.
"Oh, fustian," said Elizabeth. "I am determined that you will be the best of friends before Kitty goes away. Now, Catherine, about the guest list, is there anyone from Meryton you would like to invite? Any gentleman in whom you have an interest? I will invite anybody you wish."
"No, no one," said Kitty. "Anybody you like will be sufficient for me."
Elizabeth smiled and sat down gingerly on a sofa.
"Will, we must have a few bachelors for Catherine to choose from. But I cannot think of anybody except married couples. Do we not know anyone who is single anymore?"
"Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore again?" said Kitty. Darcy laughed. Elizabeth was surprised.
"Catherine, when did you start reading Shakespeare?"
"I don't know," she shrugged. "I cannot imagine not reading it anymore."
"Well, Much Ado About Nothing is a fine selection," said Darcy. "If you feel the need to curl up with a book during your stay here, feel free to make use of the library."
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy."
"Well," Elizabeth sighed as tea was brought in, "if you cannot find anyone among our gentleman acquaintances, there are plenty of footmen from whom you can have your pick."
Kitty giggled.
"I do not think Mama would like it if I were to marry a footman."
"No, I suppose not," Elizabeth mused, seemingly rueful. "And I thought it was such a good idea of mine, too."
"Where is Alex?" asked Kitty, just as a small boy ran into the room, talking very fast in a language Kitty did not understand.
"Papatumwifme!" he exclaimed over and over. Darcy bent over and picked the little boy up, who was still shouting. "Nussbyebye!" he said. "No more nuss!"
Kitty almost understood this last part. Elizabeth explained.
"Alex's nurse, Miss Kimble, went on vacation today. Her brother is visiting."
Kitty nodded in what she hoped looked like understanding.
"Don't worry," said Darcy as Alex continued to shout. "You'll learn to understand him. Alex, go see if there are monsters in your new baby brother or sister's room."
Alex's eyes grew wide, and as soon as his father placed him on the floor, he hurried out of the room.
"Did you scare him?" asked Kitty.
"No. He likes monsters. He thinks Juno is a monster."
"He is," said Elizabeth.
"Who is Juno?" asked Kitty.
"A dog," said Darcy.
"A beast," said Elizabeth.
Soon after this, Kitty was taken to her room, where she promptly went to sleep. It had been a tiring trip, and she was exhausted. The next day, Elizabeth started preparations for Kitty's ball, which would be at Pemberley in two weeks.
"Besides the Bingleys, Blakeneys, Cavendars, Fitzwilliams, and Prestons, we also have Will's cousins on his father's side - Sir Brian and Maximillian Callahan - on the guest list. Sir Brian is married, and Mr. Callahan is a bit young, I think, but still, we must start somewhere. Have you met the Fitzwilliams?"
"I met the Colonel, I think, at your wedding."
At that moment, Darcy entered the room with a letter in his hand and a grin on his face.
"I just found out," he said, "that my good friend, Lord Trenton, is back in the country."
"Why was he out of the country?" asked Elizabeth.
"He's been on a tour of the Continent for the last couple years."
"Shall I invite him to the ball?" asked Elizabeth. Darcy looked at Kitty, who nodded in assent. Darcy seemed to be very happy at the prospect of seeing his friend again.
"Well, then, I will invite him," said Elizabeth. "He is an earl?" Darcy nodded. "Does he have a wife I should invite?" Darcy shook his head. Elizabeth smiled in satisfaction. "Oh, heavens. I just remembered that every one of those couples has a small child; some have two. Oh, dear, I hope they do not decline the invitations because of that. Do you think it would be wise to invite them to bring their children along?"
"Not if they are anything like Alex," said Kitty. Elizabeth looked affronted, and Kitty hastened to add, "So many noisy children would wreak havoc on Mama's nerves, and you know she will come."
"Of course she will come. Well, Jane and Mr. Bingley will probably bring Beth, and I do not think Georgiana and Mr. Blakeney will leave Matthew behind, either."
"Who are the Prestons?"
"Lady Preston is Will's cousin, formerly Anne de Bourgh. Sir John is her husband."
"Everybody is getting married, it seems."
"Yes. I would have invited Mr. Blakeney's parents, but Lady Blakeney is still recovering from childbirth."
"Mr. Blakeney's parents had another baby?" asked Kitty, agog.
"Yes. Emily, I think. Oh." (looking at the clock) "It is about time to go for your fitting. Are you ready, Catherine?"
"Please stop calling me Catherine," she blurted before she could stop herself. Elizabeth stopped and grinned sheepishly.
"I'm sorry, Kitty. I thought you would prefer the more grown-up name."
Part 3 Posted on Saturday, 11 December 1999
"Have you heard from Lydia lately?" asked Kitty as Mrs. Larabee told her to keep still, or she would prick her.
"Not anything outside of the usual request for funds. I think she had another baby last month."
"What? But Mr. Wickham is deceased," Kitty whispered in an undertone, so the seamstress would not hear. Elizabeth nodded.
"Yes, he is. I have tried to curb Lydia's behaviour, but nothing has worked. If all else fails, Will and I are thinking about taking in one of the children ourselves.
"Do you think that wise?"
"Well, not until they are a bit older, of course. We must tend to our own, first."
"How old should they be before you take them in?"
"Marcus is almost four, but I do not think it will be him. Lydia has already spoiled him. All in all, I think we should wait until Alex is old enough to follow his own principles, and not be led astray. We wish him to be the influence, not vice versa. What think you of Mary's husband?"
Elizabeth had not been able to attend Mary's wedding, because of her condition.
"He is dreadful," Kitty said bluntly. Elizabeth laughed.
"I thought as much. What is wrong with him?"
"He is too ambitious. He married Mary because he needed a wife to be promoted to head clerk, and he thought Mary had the least chances of spending all his money."
"What about Mary? Does she like him?"
"About as well as can be expected. She has begun to remind me of Charlotte, before she married Mr. Collins," Kitty said wistfully. She had not seen Charlotte in four years. Elizabeth shook her head.
"Poor Mary."
"Actually, she seemed quite pleased with herself. Mr. Canfield is a very ... devout man, for a clerk."
"Well, I suppose she can't be too badly off, then. Would you like a devout man?"
Kitty made a face.
"Not if he is like Mr. Canfield. He told me I should not walk to Meryton anymore, as I have nobody to go with me. I have made that trip every day of my life! There is no reason to stop, now that all my sisters are married, is there?"
"I suppose not. How is Miss Lucas?"
"Maria is being courted by a viscount, and Lady Lucas is ecstatic."
"Oh, dear. No wonder you were ready to do Mama in," Lizzy giggled. "What is this viscount's name?"
"Lord Raleigh. He is nice. I think Maria likes him very much."
The rest of the afternoon was spent in this manner, Kitty informing Elizabeth of all the happenings in Meryton since she had left. By the time they arrived back at Pemberley, Kitty was one ball gown richer, and both ladies were thoroughly exhausted. Elizabeth went to find her husband, but he was nowhere to be seen.
"Mrs. Reynolds," she said as she peeked into several doors, "where is Mr. Darcy?"
"He went to town almost immediately after you left, ma'am," said the housekeeper. Kitty looked at Elizabeth's bemused face. Elizabeth was puzzled, but shrugged.
"Oh, well. I suppose I will wait until he comes home to see him."
When he did come home, he presented Kitty with a lovely necklace, to wear at her ball. Elizabeth beamed with pride at her husband's present, and gave him a kiss, causing him to beam, as well.
"This will be the most perfect ball in Pemberley history, will it not, Will dear?"
"Second only to Georgiana's," Mr. Darcy said with a smile, and Kitty took it for the compliment it was. To be rated as second only after Mr. Darcy's dearest sister was indeed an accomplishment.
Now that she thought about it, she had not as yet met Georgiana's husband, but from what Elizabeth wrote Jane - and Jane relayed to Kitty - she thought he must be an extremely exciting person. Beyond this vague description, she did not know, for Jane had never volunteered any information and it was hard to pry anything from her, as well. Kitty supposed Elizabeth must have had quite a lot to say about him, and it was her conjecture it was not all good, for Jane was always quick to say nice things about people.
However, she did not think long on Mr. Blakeney, because the rest of the week was filled with preparations for the ball. Despite the fact that her gown was already ready, there were still tons of preparations to make.
Mr. Darcy had special food imported from the Continent, and also held auditions for the music that would be played that night. Kitty finally decided on an elegant-looking and sound string quartet.
Elizabeth made certain that Kitty was well-acquainted with all the names on the guest list, if not the actual people. This was pretty much all she could do, owing to her condition, and what she could not do was relegated to Mrs. Reynolds and the rest of the staff.
By the time the day of the ball came, Kitty was convinced that it would, indeed, be the "most perfect ball." Little did she know what this night would bring.
Part 4 Posted on Saturday, 11 December 1999
Kitty fanned herself as she watched the dancers. Her dance card was full, but the last person she had danced with, Mr. Stockton, had been so dreadfully dull and self-satisfied, that she had pretended to turn her ankle. Looking over her dance card, she realized she would not regret any of the dances, and wondered why she did not think to turn her ankle earlier. There had been any number of opportunities, not the least of which being the innumerable times Mr. Bartlett had trodden on her toes.
Still, it was fun to be the center of attention, and Lizzy and Mr. Darcy had gone out of their way to make sure she enjoyed her ball. And she was enjoying it, despite the lack of interesting partners.
Mr. Bartlett was charming enough, and also an excellent conversationalist, despite his lack of talent on the dance floor.
The less said about Mr. Stockton, the better.
Mr. Hamilton could only give compliments, and while she smiled at him for the first few, after a while they all seemed the same.
Mr. Kilpatrick tried to draw her out onto the balcony, no doubt for wicked intentions of his own. She had resisted coyly, as a young lady ought, but he had persisted. Kitty did not know how he had come to be invited to her ball. Perhaps he was the friend of somebody who was here. Thankfully, Lord Trenton had stepped in.
Stephen McGregor, Lord Trenton, was an old friend of Mr. Darcy's, seemed like a nice man, and he was the one bright spot on Kitty's card. However, he had only occupied the first two dances, and Kitty was forced to pay attention to the other gentlemen.
She contemplated him now, as she watched him dance with Mrs. Fitzwilliam. He was a nice-looking gentleman, not exactly handsome, but close enough to it for Kitty to enjoy looking at him from time to time. He had very light brown hair, his eyes were a dancing green, and his charming smile appeared often in conversation. He was the candidate with the most potential, Kitty thought with a wry smile, for being a nice husband for her. But she did not want a nice husband, did she? That did not sound very exciting. Kitty longed for excitement.
While Kitty mused, a group of men crouched under the balcony. One, a stout man with a nose that was a bit too large for his face, took the handkerchief offered to him and whined,
"But Ace, we ain't never done a 'ouse before. We ain't burglars. We ain't got no practice."
"We're not burglaring," replied the one called Ace. "Burglars generally sneak in, in the middle of the night, and carry things off. It may be the middle of the night, but we are not sneaking in."
"And besides," said another, with a gravelly voice, above Ace's head, "there's no better way ta practice, then ta jump in an' do it."
"Will you two shut up?" said Ace irritably. "There might be someone on the balcony, and every word you are uttering could be heard plain as day up there."
"What does our words got ta do with it?" the stout one asked. "It's our actions what'll get us 'anged."
"'Ow do ye suggest we scare a entire ballroom into givin' us their valuables?" said another. "There are only so many of us, and a whole crowd o' them."
"Stop snivelling, Ben. Everything will be fine."
"I ain't sniveling'," Ben muttered, cocking his own pistol and creeping over to his post. "Ain't a man got a right ta worry? Ever' time you take it into your 'ead ta do somethin' even more dangerous than what we done before, I'm the one what gets 'urt."
"Where's Jack?"
"I'm over 'ere," a man hiccuped. Ace and the second villain eyed him up and down.
"I suppose you're fit for work," Ace muttered. "Don't drink anything while you're in there, and whatever you do, don't force me to hurt you."
Jack nodded humbly, and all the villains dispersed, except for Ace and the second villain, his right hand man, Tom O'Reilly.
"Jesse," said Tom softly.
"Don't call me that when we're working," Ace snapped.
"Right. Ace, then. Not ta disagree with ye, lad, but 'ow 'zactly do ye plan ta pull this off? There must be at least a hunnerd people in there."
"We're the ones with the guns. And they're all a bunch of high-society snobs, anyway, who probably don't know the difference between a crack shot and a left hook." He grinned cockily and pulled a mask over his face. "Stop worrying. Have we ever lost a battle?"
"No, Ace. But this ain't a fair war ye're wagin'. This is a massacre. You're plannin' ta sacrifice all yer men, on accounta wantin' somethin' new ta do. You're gettin' too bold."
"I can't help that I'm bored. Stop talking, and let's get on with it."
Kitty had lost sight of Lord Trenton. She spotted his curly hair far off in the crowd, and slowly made her way over there. Her mother would never forgive her if she did not at least make a small try for the unattached earl. As she passed the balcony, there was a loud crash, and everybody in the room turned to see what had happened.
A rock had come through the window, causing a general distraction, and a group of men with kerchiefs over their faces ran into the room on the opposite side. Kitty looked around for her brother-in-law desperately, as the bandits took control of the room. Where was he?
Part 5 Posted on Sunday, 12 December 1999
Warning: there is some violence in this chapter. :)- Gabby
As several of the bandits circled the room, searching people, one of them - apparently the leader - proclaimed,
"So sorry for the disturbance, ladies and gentlemen. If you all cooperate, this will be over in no time, and you may go back to your party. My band and I are collecting donations for the Helpless Highwayman Fund..." several of the cutthroats chuckled "...and if you are generous with us, and do not try to cheat us, everything will go a lot more smoothly." And he joined the rest in searching people and demanding their falderals.
There was a general outcry as several of the people exclaimed such things as, "Well, I never!" "Of all the..." "Really!" "This is the outside of enough!" among others.
Sir John Preston whispered to his wife,
"Don't make a fuss. If we notice enough about them, we can describe them to the authorities tomorrow."
"I hope they do not plan to go to the nursery," said Anne, thinking of her two babies.
"Do something!" several wives urged their husbands, to which said husbands responded with some variation of:
"What do you suggest?"
"Where do you think you're going?" Christopher Blakeney took his wife by the arm, stopping her from running out of the room.
"Matthew is upstairs," she said. "I do not want him to get hurt."
"Sit down, cherie. They are not after children, much less babies."
"How do you know?"
"I just do." The leader tapped him on the shoulder, and held out his hand palm up. The twinkle in his eyes changed to a flicker of recognition when Christopher turned around.
"Fancy seeing you here. If you please..." he wiggled his fingers demandingly. Christopher smiled condescendingly.
"You know I never carry anything with me."
"On the contrary. I know of at least one article you are never without. I merely do not know where you keep it." He stepped back and eyed Christopher up and down, circling a few times. "Have you been keeping up the target practice?" he asked conversationally.
"Christopher?" said Georgiana, making to rise in her seat.
"Sit down," he ordered tersely. Frightened by his tone, she obeyed. "Not lately," he replied to the bandit's enquiry. When he had made a full circle around him, he said, "Satisfied?"
"No, not really. It could be anywhere. Is this lovely lady your ... sister, Morgan?"
"I should say not!" said Georgiana. Suddenly, she realized the man had called Christopher by his London name, and she went pale. Even behind the kerchief, Christopher could see the familiar smile on the man's face, and guessed what was coming. He adopted a lazy stance and said,
"Do you really think such a lady could be any relation to me?"
It did not work. This bandit was too smart. With a chill, Christopher remembered the last time he underestimated Jesse Matthews, and his hand went unconsciously to his left shoulder.
"Must be your wife, then. Or in any case, your intended." There was suddenly a knife in his hand, and he placed it almost gently under Georgiana's chin. Christopher started, but another man put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him still. "Stand up," the bandit ordered, motioning with his other hand. She swallowed and obeyed. "I have nothing against your husband, really, madam," he said. "But as long as he carries a particular instrument, he poses a threat to me and my men."
"Matthew," she said, glancing at Christopher. "Please." He blinked at her use of the name, and nodded almost imperceptibly in approval and assurance.
"Morgan," said the bandit, "if you please. Madam," he added to Georgiana as Christopher bent on one knee and retrieved an object from his shoe, "You must allow me to say that you are the most lovely lady I have ever had the pleasure to meet. Thank you, Morgan," he said when Christopher placed a small knife in his hand. "I am most obliged." He released the pressure from under Georgiana's chin, and moved on. She sank into a chair, and Christopher poured a glass of wine for her.
"Drink this, cherie," he said. "I wouldn't want you to faint. Don't worry, darling," he added with a slight smile, remembering the last time Jesse Matthews had underestimated him. "He hasn't won."
"But now he has two knives, instead of just one."
"It doesn't matter. If I know Jesse Matthews, and I think I do, he has several knives hidden all over his person, not to mention other weapons. One more will not make a difference. He simply wanted mine because he knows I can best him."
"I didn't know you carried a knife with you," she said, sipping her wine rather quickly. "But then, there's not much I do know about you, is there?"
"You know I love you," he said softly, not wishing to argue with her about his secretiveness. Thankfully, Kitty came up and interrupted them.
"Oh, I saw everything. Are you all right, Mrs. Blakeney? He did not hurt you, did he?"
"No," Georgiana shook her head vigorously. Kitty turned on Christopher.
"What were you doing, just standing there?"
"Kitty," said Georgiana, "It's all right."
Kitty had no idea why Georgiana was so forgiving of her husband. She was sure she would have expected her husband to come to her defense, fists swinging. She did not know about Mr. Blakeney's history, and therefore would not have believed either of them if they had said Christopher knew Jesse Matthews had had no intention of killing anybody.
She walked off, nose high, and hoped Mr. Blakeney felt guilty. If Christopher felt anything, it was anger. Oh, where was Darcy?
Jesse Matthews's band members were taking their sweet time rounding the valuables up, and were spending quite as much time at the refreshment stand as collecting donations. A scream was heard from one side of the room. A drunken bandit was harassing two women: Jane Bingley and Araminta Hamilton. Miss Hamilton was the one who was screaming. Kitty rushed over just in time to see Jesse take the drunk by the hair, pull him away from the screaming girl, and hurl him into the wall. Araminta screamed again, then fainted. Kitty was alarmed, and looked around for Miss Hamilton's mama.
Charles Bingley ran up to find his wife trying to revive Miss Hamilton while Kitty was still looking for her mama.
"What happened?" he asked. Jane explained, and he looked over at the drunk, who was still crumpled on the floor. Jesse grabbed the drunk up by his hair, and hauled him over to the balcony.
"I thought I told you to behave," he growled.
"But Ace..." the man whined.
"You know what I did to the man who did that to Mary."
"Find Mr. Darcy," said Jane to her husband. Charles went off in search of the man.
"No, please, Ace. I won't anymore. I swear," the drunk was begging.
"So you said the last time, Jack." He hurled the man over the balcony. "So you said last time." He spun around, catching a man in the act of raising a walking stick to hit him. He raised his gun threateningly. "Get back in the room!" he ordered.
The man's eyes opened wide, and he scurried back into the room. This robbery was taking far too long for Jesse's taste. He looked over the side of the balcony to make sure Jack was not dead, and saw a most unwelcome line of red. The soldiers were coming.
Jesse felt the blood drain from his face. He should have listened to Tom. It was a stupid idea for a highwayman to attempt to rob a ball. He hurried back into the ballroom, to round up his men - he could never leave them behind to be hanged. However, by the time he had alerted them, the soldiers were knocking on the door.
Part 6 Posted on Monday, 13 December 1999
Warning: there is some violence in this chapter. :) - Gabby
Jesse quickly looked around the room for cover. It seemed as though everyone were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the soldiers. He noticed one girl who looked at him in quite a triumphant manner. Several people were stopping to talk to her. Hm. Quite the popular miss, with both ladies and gentlemen.
Kitty was trying hard to find Elizabeth. Where could she be? Suddenly, she saw a glimpse of Lizzy's gown on one of the balconies. As she moved somewhat closer, she saw that her sister and Mr. Darcy were having an intimate conversation, and had closed the French doors for more privacy. They had no idea what was going on. Well, somebody must let them know immediately.
Edging to her quickly, Jesse grabbed the popular young lady by the arm, swung her into his own body, and held the pistol to her head.
"If anybody breathes a word of what is going on here to those soldiers, I will blow this girl's brains out," he declared. He was certain, after he said those words, that he heard someone exclaim,
"Oh, my poor nerves!"
Kitty gasped and tried to elbow the man, but her efforts were fruitless. His threat seemed to calm the crowd, and a silent agreement passed among them that Miss Bennet must be kept safe--and some of the more spiteful people decided they would be quiet only because they had no wish to see somebody's brains blown out upon the lovely floor of Pemberley.
"Music!" he ordered. "Play a waltz!" The band started, and turning Kitty around into a dancing position, he began to dance with her. On further thought, he yanked off his mask and stuffed it into his shirt. Then he placed the revolver in his belt.
"I'm a very quick draw," he assured her. "Make one move, and I'll kill you."
"No, you won't," she declared. He merely lifted one eyebrow and kept spinning her. She looked down at his feet, wondering where someone like him would have learned to dance, but then realized that he wasn't dancing - he was mimicking the other dancers. She looked up at him, intending to tease him, but gasped when she saw his face. The other eyebrow lifted to match the first, and with an amused smile he said,
"Does my appearance offend you?"
"N-no," she stuttered. "You merely reminded me of somebody."
The door opened and a soldier entered. Jesse turned languidly as the officer started to speak, and managed to look almost bored. As the soldier droned on with his warning about the string of robberies in the neighborhood lately, Jesse noticed his gang members were following orders well. He had told them to blend, and they had settled next to a snoring drunk, mimicking his posture to the tee. Kitty could not restrain a giggle at the lot of them imitating poor Mr. Hurst.
"For a woman whose life is in danger," Jesse whispered in her ear, "you are certainly lighthearted."
"Please," she said sarcastically, "aren't I allowed the comfort of a laugh? I do not see why I should look dour simply because you threaten me."
"So you would not object to dying?"
"Did I say that? No, I did not. But would you care if I objected?"
"I would never do anything to upset a young lady," he said with a grin. She blinked as a feeling of deja vu came over her. He looked so much like somebody she knew.
The soldiers left, and the men went back to their thieving as Jesse kept Kitty close by him, to keep the threat alive. Bingley was wandering around the room, looking for Darcy, when Blakeney, Lord Cavendar, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Sir John Preston accosted him.
"They are all extremely drunk," said Christopher.
"Except the leader," Sir John pointed out. Christopher shrugged. Jesse Matthews was drunk less often than even he was.
"Easily handled," he said.
"How easy is it, really, to apprehend ten men?"
"They only outnumber us two to one," said Christopher innocently. "I think that's fairly good odds. And they'll be decked even more in our favor after Darcy gets his rear in here," he added in an undertone.
"Why is that?" asked Bingley.
"You will see."
"How do you propose we do that?" asked Cavendar. Christopher grinned.
"You take those two over there; I'll take those. Preston, you take those. Fitzwilliam, you take those. Bingley, you... find Darcy."
Bingley looked relieved that he would not have to "take" anybody, and went in search of his best friend. He found him on the balcony. The doors were closed, and he was forced to knock. Darcy started, and stared at him as Bingley gesticulated wildly. Finally, Elizabeth thought to open the doors.
"What is it?" asked Darcy.
"There's a burglar in the ballroom," said Bingley in a stage whisper.
"What?!" Darcy rushed back into the house, Elizabeth on his heels. Bingley explained what had happened, and by the time they arrived at the scene, most of the thieves had been apprehended.
Jesse found himself beguiled by this young lady. So much so, in fact, that he was quite distracted from the goings-on around them. When Kitty pointed out to him that all of his friends had been disposed of, he jumped up and realized in dismay that it was true. There was not one of them to be seen. He was flabbergasted, and for a moment stood motionless, surveying the damage that had been done. He knew Morgan was behind this, and he almost chuckled at the realization. Both of them were incorrigibly adept at knowing the other's next move.
"Perhaps it is me who should ask you if you object to dying," said Kitty smugly.
"Just shut up," he snapped, and felt around his neck for his kerchief, which he had yet to retie.
"Here it is," she said, holding it out to him. "But it might be better for you if you left it off."
"Why do you say that?"
She shrugged.
"Trust me. You'll be much better off if you don't even bother."
Jesse shrugged, but kept the kerchief in his hand, just in case, as he slunk along the walls, trying to gain the exit without being noticed. One man approached him and said,
"Ah, I've been looking for you everywhere. Have the thieves been apprehended?"
Jesse merely stared at the man. Was he mocking him? After a few moments, the man dropped his gaze, looked at the floor, and mumbled an apology before scuttling off. Jesse was thoroughly puzzled by this encounter, but shrugged it off and kept going.
Part 7 Posted on Monday, 13 December 1999
Warning: violence. :) - Gabby
"Where is he?" Darcy demanded of Bingley. Blakeney, Cavendar, Fitzwilliam and Preston all craned their necks, trying to spot Jesse.
"Over there," Bingley pointed. "..I think."
All six men spread out, surrounding the bandit. Sir John went to the door and leaned casually against the post, effectively blocking the exit. Jesse looked around and saw two men on each side of him, and one advancing from the front. Realizing he had nowhere to turn, he grabbed the nearest woman. There was suddenly a knife in his hand, and he pressed it to the woman's throat. She shrieked, and for the first time in her life, Mrs. Bennet's nerves truly overtook her, and she fainted dead away.
"Come any closer, and she's dead," he said hoarsely. Truly, he had never been so close to being captured, and he had no wish to hang.
"Let her go," said Darcy authoritatively. Jesse spun around, Mrs. Bennet's limp body dragging on the floor. When the two men looked each other in the eye, something strange happened. Jesse's mouth dropped open; Darcy's clenched shut. They cocked their heads in the exact same way, staring at each other, and for a split second neither of them moved. Christopher smiled, completely satisfied. David and Richard took advantage of the split second to move closer to Jesse, who was still stunned speechless.
Elizabeth and Lady Cavendar began ushering people out of the house. Only a few wished to see what happened next; most were disappointed that the ball had been ruined in such a manner, and also agitated at the thought that their lives had been in danger.
"They look alike!" one girl whispered to her mama on her way out. "Almost like twins."
Darcy regained his senses before Jesse did, and motioned to the others to make their moves. David jumped for Jesse's right hand, and twisted the knife out of it. Jesse dropped Mrs. Bennet in an attempt to swing at David, who ducked and drove his fist into the younger man's stomach. Christopher pulled Mrs. Bennet out of the way just before she hit the floor, and handed her to her husband. Richard took hold of Jesse's other arm, and twisted it behind his back, forcing him to his knees.
Darcy looked over to where Mrs. Fitzwilliam had joined Elizabeth and Lady Cavendar, and pleased with what they were doing, was also pleased to find that David and Richard had pulled Jesse off the floor and placed him in a chair on the far side of the room. Christopher had gone to make sure Georgiana was all right, and had not fainted. He found her place vacated.
"Mrs. Darcy," he said, looking around perplexedly, "where is Georgiana?"
"She went upstairs about fifteen minutes ago, to check on Matthew, I believe. Come along, Kitty."
"But Lizzy..." she had no intention of leaving the men to have all the fun while she prepared for bed.
"Kitty, come!" Elizabeth ordered. Kitty followed reluctantly, not wishing to upset the pregnant lady.
Darcy ran a hand through his hair and approached the now-sullen bandit. Meanwhile, David and Richard were wondering if they should search Jesse. Christopher approached and asked if they had done just that, and they stammered an excuse.
"We weren't certain there was cause. We found the gun in that corner over there, and of course the knife was in his hand at the time."
Christopher sighed in exasperation. He stalked over to Jesse, pulled him up roughly, and began searching him himself.
"I'm sorry about the knife, Morgan," said Jesse. Christopher did not answer. David, Richard, Bingley, Preston and Darcy exchanged glances. Christopher knew exactly where Jesse kept all his weapons, and soon had a fairly large collection sitting on the table.
"I suppose I shouldn't have even bothered about it," Jesse continued ruefully. "It didn't help me much."
"No, and it didn't help me, either," Christopher muttered as he bent to search his boots. "Now she's going to wonder how I know you." He straightened to his full height, handed yet another knife to David, and frowned. "What am I supposed to tell her?"
Jesse shrugged.
"The truth?" he suggested.
"How do you two know each other?" asked David. Christopher glared at Jesse.
"Why should I tell you?" asked Jesse with a sullen shrug. "It won't help my cause any. Just get the police and get this unpleasantness over with."
"Unpleasant to whom?" said David, sitting down to sort through the weapons. He smiled mischievously at Christopher. "I am thoroughly enjoying myself."
"Bingley," said Darcy, "send someone, or go yourself, to find the police." Jesse's only reaction was to go pale.
Bingley started to obey, but turned around suddenly and said,
"I'd like to remind everyone here that, while I think this man is a villain, he did have a part in saving my Jane from that drunken rascal..."
"If he and my assorted rascals had not tried to rob the place blind, Mrs. Bingley would not have needed to be saved," said Darcy.
"But he can't be all bad if he did that."
"Bingley!" said Richard. "Why are you defending him?"
"I simply have no wish to see a man hanged."
"But he's broken the law. He threatened to kill Miss Bennet, Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Stockton, and anybody else who stood in his way."
Jesse looked from one to the other, as if he were watching a ball bounce off a wall.
"And even in the case of the drunk," Sir John added, "he proved his violent nature by throwing the man off the balcony."
"The man deserved it!" said Bingley, then calmed himself somewhat and said, "It would be wrong to send him to the gallows, Darcy. I don't know why, but that is what I think when I look at him."
"Why?"
"I said I don't know!"
"Perhaps it is because of his resemblance to you-know-who," Richard whispered to David, who eyed Darcy and chuckled.
"Oh, I see," said Darcy. "You think he is somehow related to me."
"Of course," said Jesse sarcastically. "Maybe I'm his cousin." Christopher pushed him into a chair.
"Hold your tongue," he said. "If I were you, I'd have more respect for the person who is trying to save your life."
"I hope he is not your cousin, Darcy!" said David. "For that would either make him my brother..."
"Or my brother-in-law," Sir John finished, horrified.
"So you think I should let him go, simply because of a slight coincidental resemblance to myself?"
"More than slight, I'd say," said Christopher. "I mean, you and Cavendar look alike, but this is uncanny. I've never seen anything like it."
"What is this?" said Darcy, aghast. "Are you all saying I should let the man go?"
"Not exactly," said Richard. Sir John shook his head vigorously.
"It's better safe than sorry," Bingley offered.
"Of course," said Jesse smugly. "You wouldn't want to send your long-lost cousin to the gallows."
"Blakeney seems to know him quite well," said David. "Perhaps we should ask him whether it would be prudent to let the man go."
All eyes looked at Christopher. He shifted his weight awkwardly, and looked at Jesse, who immediately apologized again for the earlier incident.
"Well, he does have a few redeeming qualities," he said slowly, intending to and succeeding in keeping Jesse in suspense. He grinned at Jesse, who was horror-stricken. "Of course, there is that pesky highwayman habit of his."
"Highwayman?" said Richard. Christopher nodded solemnly and sat down. He picked up one of Jesse's knives, and began to play with it.
"Best in London, weren't you, Jesse?" he said. Jesse only stared at him.
"I can't believe my life is in his hands," he muttered.
"Yes, it is, isn't it?" said Christopher thoughtfully.
"How did you two meet?" asked Sir John. Christopher looked at Jesse again, who blushed. Christopher grinned.
"Two years ago, in London."
"I didn't ask when or where," said Sir John, annoyed. "I said how."
"How does this pertain to my freedom?" asked Jesse.
"It doesn't," said Darcy. "We merely asked Blakeney if there was any reason to let you go."
"There is," said Bingley. "It is that you are not sure whether he is a relation or not. It doesn't seem likely, but..."
"Stranger things have happened," David finished. Bingley nodded. Darcy looked at each of the men present. They looked sheepishly at their feet. They were all beginning to wonder.
"I say let him go," said Christopher, looking at Jesse.
"What?!" said Darcy. He was the last one he expected to give in first. Christopher motioned to Darcy that he should like to speak to him privately.
"If the police take him, he'll be promptly hanged. Personally, I'd rather he suffered..."
Darcy did not let him finish.
"I see what you mean. Well, I'm sorry, Blakeney, but I think the law should take care of this case."
Christopher pulled himself up taller, which was still not as tall as Darcy.
"Very well, then. I'll kill him here." He turned on his heel, and started for Jesse (who, by the way, looked properly frightened by now), but Darcy took him by his arm.
"I'll not have blood shed on Pemberley," he hissed in his ear.
"I don't have to draw blood," said Christopher calmly, and started to walk away again, but Darcy tugged at his coat and pushed him into a wall. Christopher scowled up at his brother-in-law.
"You are a bloodthirsty little boy," said Darcy. "Why?"
Christopher did not answer. He knew Darcy would kill him if he knew Georgiana had been in danger. Darcy smiled, and patted his shoulder encouragingly.
"Very well, then. We'll let him go."
Christopher nodded expressionlessly.
"Thank you."
Part 8 Posted on Tuesday, 14 December 1999
If an angel had descended from Heaven and given him a pot of gold, Jesse Matthews would not have been as surprised as when Darcy and the other gentlemen left the room, leaving him alone with Morgan. That gentleman stared at him for a few minutes, then looked at his watch and left the room. Jesse blinked, realizing he would have to watch his back for the next few weeks or so, but shrugged it off, as it was nothing new to him.
Leaving all his weapons behind, he jumped off the balcony. He heard voices coming from one side of the house, and picking himself up quickly, pressed his back against the wall. He sighed in relief when he realized it was his gang.
"Tom," he said, breaking them out of their huddle. They were overjoyed, and immediately gathered around him, like chicks around a mother hen.
"Oh! Jesse, you're not arrested!"
"No."
"How many dead?"
"None," he laughed.
"Then 'ow'd ye get out?"
Jesse grew serious.
"Do you remember Matt Morgan?"
"The one what..."
"Yes, yes. Well, he's in there."
"Well, let's go get 'im." Tom put a hand to his waist, and started towards the house. Jesse stopped him with a hand placed firmly on his chest.
"No! He's the one who saved my neck."
"Why'd 'e do that?" Tom blinked in astonishment.
"He'd rather stretch it himself, I'm afraid."
"'Ow come, whenever ye get the chance ta do 'im in, ye let it go?" Tom asked, exasperated. Jesse smiled and shrugged.
"He's a good sort, I guess."
"You don't make no sense."
"He's not a danger to me. That rumour we heard in London is hogwash; he didn't kill those men."
"But you said..."
"I was exaggerating a bit, Tom."
"But .. the two o' ye were at each other's throats the entire time you were in London. Why's it different now?"
"He helped Mary when she needed it," Jesse said softly. "I knew nothing of what was going on, but he did. He knew she was my sister, but he saved her, anyway." He cleared his throat, ashamed of his sentimentalism, and added with a wry grin, "And he's a crack shot. I'd hate to waste a talent such as his."
"'Cept when 'e uses that talent on you, then it ain't so admirable, is it?" said Tom irritably. This comment reminded Jesse of something far different from what it was intended. Instead, he thought of his colleague who had complained of being somewhat prone to injury.
"Oh. Is Ben all right?"
"I'm right as rain, Ace," Ben spoke up cheerfully. "First time in months I ain't been 'urt in the middle o' work."
"Good. Then we'll meet at my place tomorrow evening, and come up with a new plan."
"But what about yer mam?" asked Jack. Jesse's eyes narrowed.
"Never mind her. Just be there."
And he went home. He opened the door quietly, hoping nobody would hear him come in.
"Jesse!"
Too late. He cringed.
"Mother."
"What took ye so long?"
"Jesse?" said another voice.
"Hello, Mary," he smiled. She embraced him fondly, and he kissed her forehead. "Where's Jessie?"
"She's sleeping."
"Where've ye been?" their mother demanded.
"I went out with Tom and the rest," he shrugged. "How's it been here?"
"There's some supper for ye, if ye want it," Mrs. Matthews mumbled darkly.
"Just a moment, Mother. I want to see my niece first. Come, Mary." He took his sister by the hand, and went to look in on little Jessie.
"Mama knows," Mary whispered.
"About Jessie?"
"No, about you."
He straightened and glared at her.
"How did she find out?"
"Daniel told her. She was upset that you'd been gone so long, and Daniel came in just at that moment, and couldn't wait to tell her."
"Oh, well," he shrugged. "She had to find out eventually. Isn't she sweet?" he said, brushing a strand of reddish-brown hair away from the sleeping girl's forehead.
"Yes, she is. And she wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you."
"I had nothing to do with it. The truth is, she wouldn't be here today if it weren't for..."
"Shh. Don't say it. It won't do either of us any good. And it isn't her fault, anyway, who her father is. If it's anybody's fault, it's mine."
"No, it isn't! It's not your fault. You didn't ask him to..."
"No girl ever asks for that, Jesse. But let's not talk about it. It will only make us cross. I think she is beginning to look like you," she added proudly.
"Yes," he said, though he knew it was not true. None of the people in his family looked like him. "Well, I'm hungry. Would you care to eat with me?"
"Yes, Jesse, I'll shield you from Mama." She smiled cheekily and allowed him to lead her out of the child's room. Mrs. Matthews was banging pots and pans around in the kitchen.
"Careful, Mama. You'll wake Jessica."
"Her name is Margaret," Mrs. Matthews corrected.
"No, it is not. It is Jessica," Mary said firmly.
"My, that smells good," Jesse interrupted. He was rewarded with a plate slammed down before him and a black heap of something banged onto that.
"Mary, go to bed," said their mother.
"Mama," Mary started to protest. Jesse shook his head at her, signaling she was not to put up a fight for him. She pursed her lips in displeasure, and stalked out of the room. As soon as she was gone, Mrs. Matthews turned and heaved a pot at Jesse's head. He ducked, and it went crashing into the wall.
"A thief! Is this what you've become? Did I raise ye ta steal from people? But ye never listened ta me, did ye? Even when you were little..."
"Have you ever known a person named Darcy?" he interrupted suddenly. She blinked.
"Why d'ye ask?"
"Have you?" She did not answer, so he went on. "Where was I born, Mother?"
"In Plymouth, just like Mary and Daniel."
"I don't remember Plymouth," he remarked. "You'd think I would, if we still lived there when Daniel was born. I am more than ten years older than he is."
"You never 'ad much of a memory," she sniffed. "That time in Plymouth was the worst time of my life."
"Yes, I know," he said, bored. "Father was always out working with some gentleman's family or another, while you were stuck at home with three children. You tell me every day."
"I don't know what right you got ta be angry," she said, remembering her tirade of a few minutes before. "It was 'ard fer me ta support three children by m'self, but I did, an' I never stole for it, neither."
"Is that so?" he asked, smiling cheekily. Her eyes bulged, and another pot went flying.
"Get outta my sight. I hate lookin' at ye!" Several more pots followed. After they had settled to the ground, they heard a baby crying. Jesse came out from under the table just in time to see Mary rush out of her room and into Jessica's.
Jesse glared at his mother, deliberately sat down in the chair again, and finished his dinner before going to bed.
Part 9 Posted on Tuesday, 14 December 1999
"Lizzy," said Kitty, two weeks after the ball, "have you seen my locket? The one with the picture of Mama and Papa."
"No, I have not. Is it on your wardrobe?"
"No, I looked."
"Did you hide it under your own bed?" asked Elizabeth playfully.
"No." Kitty stifled a giggle.
"Were you wearing it the night of the ball?" Elizabeth asked suspiciously.
"No, it was safely on my armoire. I know because I wore it Tuesday, when Lord Trenton called on me. He said he liked it, so I was going to wear it again tonight."
"Do you like Lord Trenton, Kitty?"
"He is very nice," Kitty said neutrally.
"Yes, he is. But I would not want to marry him."
"Why not?" asked Kitty eagerly. A reason to stop considering marriage to the wealthy earl would be welcome to her, as she could not pinpoint exactly why she would have to refuse him, if he asked. Elizabeth laughed.
"Because I am already married, gudgeon. Oh, I must sit down. Surely, I think this little person wants out of me and quickly."
"Is the baby kicking?" asked Kitty.
"Yes." Elizabeth smiled up at her. "Go ahead. You may feel if you so wish." Kitty grinned when she felt the baby's strong kick. Then she noticed a letter in her sister's hand.
"A letter from Jane?" she guessed. Lizzy nodded.
"She and Mr. Bingley, Miss Bingley, and their cousin, Mrs. Shaw, are coming to visit in a few days. Jane and Charles want a house nearer to us."
"And further away from Mama," Kitty said knowingly. "But why are Miss Bingley and Mrs. Shaw coming?"
"Miss Bingley has been staying with her cousin and the Hursts the past couple years. I think what Jane means to say is that poor Mrs. Shaw is tired of Caroline, and Charles has offered to take her in again."
"Poor Jane," said Kitty.
"I think she likes Mrs. Shaw. It took her several days to find time to write this letter, and by the end of it she is calling her Isabel."
"Yes, Jane likes everybody. But I was referring to Miss Bingley. She can be so abrasive. And her manner is entirely false."
Elizabeth looked at her in surprise.
"What? Do you not agree? I am sorry if it was improper of me to say so, but it is what I think, and I cannot help it," Kitty said defensively.
"No, no. I agree. I simply did not know you were so perceptive."
"It does not take perception to notice that," said Kitty, rolling her eyes. "Where is Mr. Darcy? Still poring over his family lines?"
"Yes. He cannot imagine how the scoundrel came to look like him. Nobody in the lines would qualify. No missing heirs, no sob stories. Everybody seemed to live and die quite as they ought."
"Are these the lines?" asked Kitty, pointing to some papers strewn all over the table. Elizabeth nodded.
"The Lancaster lines would be the most pertinent. Will does not look like a Darcy at all, judging from the portrait of his father."
"Does he not?"
"No, he looks like a Lancaster. Come." Elizabeth stood slowly, and waddled to the gallery with Kitty in tow. On her way out of the room, Kitty grabbed the lines, to use as reference to how each person was related to the next.
"A lesson in Darcy history," Elizabeth said with a grin. "Or rather, Lancaster history. George Darcy married Lady Anne Fitzwilliam," she said, pointing to each person's portrait as she spoke. "Lady Anne's mother was Lady Sarah Lancaster, daughter of the third Duke of Carrington... Michael would have been the sixth," she added sadly.
"Michael who?" said Kitty.
"Oh, that's right. You never met him. Well, you never will now. He died last year, under tragic circumstances. The body was never found, but Will and I went to the memorial service. What a tragedy." She shook her head.
"He was a very tall man, was he not?" said Kitty in awe. "Who is that lady beside him?"
"That is his sister, Lady Laura. You met her at my wedding, I believe. But as I was saying," she continued, "If Jesse Matthews is related to Will somehow, we cannot find how that could be. There are no loose ends. Everybody is accounted for."
"Well, that's total, then," Kitty said, folding up the papers one at a time. She folded the Lancaster lines first, but paused in the midst of the Darcy lines.
"I had no idea the late Lady Anne had so many miscarriages. Only two living out of seven!"
"Yes, it is very sad. Mary, Sarah, James, Peter, and Victoria." She smiled wistfully. "They named them all, even the dead ones. Although Victoria did live for two days before she died. Oh, well, this is too depressing. Let us go think of something else to talk about."
Kitty followed as Elizabeth waddled back to the drawing room. Just as the very pregnant lady was reclining in her seat, the butler came and announced the Earl of Trenton.
Part 10 Posted on Wednesday, 15 December 1999
Lord Trenton entered the room, and bowed to the ladies.
"Good day, Mrs. Darcy, Miss Bennet. Nay, Mrs. Darcy, do not rise; there is no need."
"Thank you, my lord," said Elizabeth with a relieved sigh.
"How is the search progressing for the bandit?" asked Lord Trenton.
"Not well at all," Elizabeth said. "There is no sign of him."
There was, in actuality, no search for him. After Christopher's temper had cooled down, he had realized how extremely stupid it would be to go after the man on his own ground, and indeed, how stupid the entire affair had been. Darcy knew it was only a matter of time before the villain showed up again, to make a claim to be a member of the Darcy family. He knew his type, and it was inevitable.
"What would happen to him, if he were caught?" asked Kitty. Trenton looked at her in surprise. He had left before the actual excitement that night, but he had heard enough about it to be quite certain in his answer.
"I assume he would be hanged, and promptly."
"Of course. I forgot." Kitty blushed. She did not wish to seem silly.
"There is no reason you should know such things," said Trenton. "Perhaps Darcy will give you another ball, seeing as this one turned out so disastrously."
"Mr. Darcy is no pinchpenny, but two balls is a bit much," Elizabeth smiled.
"Even to indulge a beautiful young lady?" said Trenton with a raised eyebrow. Kitty blushed even deeper, but was not gratified enough to be without a reply.
"It would not necessarily be an indulgence to be given another ball. I have always enjoyed them .. before. But the other night, I was almost glad to see the bandits, because at least they afforded a bit of excitement."
Elizabeth looked wounded.
"I'm sorry, Lizzy. I know I always loved a ball before, regardless of the company. I suppose I was not in the best of spirits that night."
"No, don't try to blame yourself." Lizzy shrugged elegantly. "How was I to know your tastes had changed so much?"
"I must say, I am quite lost in the references to Miss Bennet's past," said Trenton teasingly. "But if it is excitement you want, you are welcome to a treasure hunt at Trenton next week."
"Most certainly," Kitty agreed happily. "If my sister and Mr. Darcy will accompany me."
"Oh, no," Elizabeth shook her head not in the least bit reluctantly. "I am not walking around a park for hours in pursuit of a trinket. I cannot even go from the drawing room to the gallery without feeling the need to sit down."
"Then Miss Bennet may come by herself, if she must," Trenton entreated. "I am sure Darcy would not want to leave your sister here by herself, so close to her time, if I may say so, Mrs. Darcy," he added apologetically.
"Of course, my lord. I was hoping the same thing."
Kitty blinked her eyes quickly. She trusted Lord Trenton, but would it be proper to go to his estate unaccompanied?
"Will you come, Miss Bennet?" he asked, giving her an endearing smile. "If you do not, you will force me to think of someone else at the last moment, for I have already instructed my housekeeper to prepare for at least five guests."
"Five?"
"Too many?"
Kitty giggled slightly, but caught herself in time, remembering that giggling was a very silly thing to do.
"I will come, thank you."
Elizabeth grinned, her eyes going back and forth between the two of them. If only she could leave them alone, but alas, she could barely stand by herself. She sighed in contentment. It would be so gratifying for Kitty to make a good marriage. She did not think they were in love yet, but they were giving her reason to hope.
Part 11 Posted on Thursday, 16 December 1999
There was a loud knock on the door. Jesse Matthews bolted upright from his uncomfortable position in the chair, and rubbing his eyes sleepily, went to answer it. Two men rushed in on him.
"Ace! We gotta move quick! The bishop's movin' 'is strongbox ta London this very night!" said Jack.
Jesse groaned and sat back in the chair, still rubbing his eyes.
"Are ye all right, lad?" said Tom worriedly. "You were limpin' when we came in."
"Mother's gone into the boughs. Last night, she started throwing things at me again. Daniel came in, thought I had done something to her, and came flying at me. That was after her knife missed my head by that much." He held his fingers an inch apart.
"Why didn't ye get outta the room 'soon as she started throwin' things?"
"There was nowhere to go. I was in a corner."
"But what could li'l Dan'l do ta ye? That little milksop..."
"Is almost fifteen, and already as tall as our father. It surprised me, too, at first, that he could hit so hart. At first, I was determined not to hit him - he is quite young, after all."
""I hope ye taught 'im a lesson," said Tom. "If 'e knows 'bout us like ye say 'e do, then 'e needs ta either join us, know ta keep mum, or be killed."
"Aye," Jack agreed.
"Oh, he won't be attacking me anymore," Jesse assured them. "He's in there moaning and groaning right now. But I won't have you killing my brother."
Jack's eyes lit up at the mention of Daniel's injuries, and went to see for himself. A few minutes he came back with a grin on his face.
"The boy warn't 'appy ta see me, but it's pleased I am, Ace. Ye done a good job."
"You need yer own place," said Tom, shaking his head.
"Right," said Jack. "Look't 'ow ind'pendent I became, since I got me own place."
Jesse looked at Jack with something akin to disgust.
"I would, but living here, people tend to forget I exist, since they never see me. If I got my own place, people would know there was someone there."
Tom and Jack nodded in understanding.
"But what 'bout the bishop?" said Jack.
"I'm sorry, but I can't. Little Jessie's sick, and Mary can't tend her all night. You can take it yourself, if you want. I won't demand my usual share for work I didn't do."
After a few good-humoured jokes, Jack and Tom took their leave. Jesse closed the door behind them, and leaned on it for support after they left. He was exhausted. He heard a suspicious click behind him, and turned around. His mother had found his musket.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, knowing full well it had been under his bed that morning.
"Get outta my 'ouse," she said. "Ye're no son o' mine."
"Mother?" he said, puzzled.
"I ain't yer mother! I never was, and I ain't gonna call m'self that no more!"
"I don't have time for this," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I know you don't approve of my profession, but this is going too far."
"Ye're not mine!" she repeated. "An' since ye're trespassin', I got a right ta shoot ye on sight!"
"What do you mean, not yours?" His eyes were alight with interest.
"I kept it secret all these years, raised ye as I would've m'own dear boy, and 'ow d'ye repay me? You never paid me no respect, the respect ye'd give a mother what gave ever'thin' fer ye. Ye came 'ere with yer fancy ways, an' taught 'em ta Mary, too. Now my daughter looks down on me. An' then ye went an' allowed 'er ta be defiled."
"You know that wasn't my fault!" he protested angrily.
"You took 'er out with ye, ta show 'er 'ow ta 'ave fun, you said. Well, she didn't 'ave much fun that night, did she? But you did! Oh, yes, you did!"
"Mama!" a voice interrupted suddenly. They turned and saw Mary standing in the door to little Jessie's room.
"How dare you blame Jesse for what happened? It was no more his fault than it was yours or mine. And as for the way we talk, don't you remember? Papa was a tutor. He is the one who taught us to be more refined in our speech. How can you honestly accuse Jesse of anything, except his profession, which has absolutely nothing to do with you? Of turning me against you? I am not against you, Mama. You are against him. And I don't understand it." Mary stopped to take a breath. Mrs. Matthews and Jesse stared at her in amazement.
"Ye're not my boy," said Mrs. Matthews, tears coming down her face. "Heaven 'elp me, you're not mine." Jesse realized now what she was implying, and he eagerly asked her to go on. He had spent the last week trying to pry information out of her.
"There ain't never been no 'ighwayman in the Matthews fam'ly, an' there never will be," she said, lifting her head up proudly.
"You're too late," he said dryly, and held out his arms in a 'here I am' gesture. "You may shoot if you like, but I'm still here."
"No!" said Mary, leaping for the gun.
"It's all right, Mary," he said calmly. "It isn't loaded."
"Get out o' my 'ouse," said Mrs. Matthews calmly.
"Not until you tell me whose son I am, if not yours," he stated. He hoped she had not only gone daft, and that if there was truth behind her statements, it would prove advantageous for him. He grinned and winked at Mary, then deposited himself on a chair, with his hands behind his head.
"I suggest you begin at the beginning," he said with an arched eyebrow.
Part 12 Posted on Thursday, 16 December 1999
Christopher paced the room in high agitation as Sir Percy sat in a chair behind the desk.
"So," said Sir Percy levelly, making a steeple out of his hands, "what you're saying is that Darcy..."
"I'm not saying it's a fact; I'm only saying it's possible," said Christopher. He sat in a chair and began biting his nails nervously.
"Son, your fingers," said Percy with a grin. Christopher removed his hand from his mouth, sat on it, then stood again and resumed pacing. "Now, tell me again why this would be a problem for you."
Christopher halted, ran both hands down his neck, and said, "Georgiana."
"What about her?"
"Well, she would have to be in his company often...if it were true, that is," he added hastily.
"Of course. Your point?"
"He's dangerous!"
"So are you, are you not?"
Christopher looked at the ceiling, exasperated.
"Not in the same way. I am only hot-tempered." Percy laughed. Christopher scowled, but went on. "When he threatens somebody, he means it. Only rarely has he changed his mind about anything. He has threatened her."
This alarmed Percy.
"But surely, if this is true, he would not think of it anymore."
"You don't understand," Christopher moaned, and sat down again.
"I know. Would you care to explain?"
Christopher took a moment to calm himself, then started.
"I love Georgiana. She is everything to me. When he threatened her, she looked to me for help, and I was helpless."
"I see."
"I wanted to kill him. Not only because of my pride, but because of what he has done to her."
"What is that?"
Christopher stood again, but this time did not resume pacing. He went to a window and looked out. His arms were folded, and his hands clenched his sides as though he were desperately holding himself together.
"She is having nightmares," he said flatly. "Terrible dreams. She wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. She won't let me comfort her. She just cries .. and it hurts me."
Percy had not seen his son this distraught since the day after his seventeenth birthday. However, this time he did not question his reasons. Christopher resumed in a somewhat more level tone.
"If .. this is true, and she is forced to see him again, I fear my own reaction."
"What about hers?"
Christopher smiled faintly.
"I actually think it might be good for her. I know he didn't mean to hurt her. But I cannot convince her of that."
"How did you know he wouldn't hurt her?"
"It would not have been in his best interest. He was surrounded by her friends. He is not a fool; he knows when not to hurt someone."
"So why did you not do something at that moment?"
"It's what he wanted. The last time I saw him, I had the upper hand. He wanted it back."
Percy looked skeptically at him.
"If he wanted to put that knife in you, why did he not simply take the opportunity?"
"He needs a reason. He won't do anything possibly fatal to a person, unless he thinks he has good cause. He's wanted to since we met, and I've known it even longer."
"How's that?"
"I knew who he was before he introduced himself. And I knew we wouldn't be friends."
"Nothing has happened so far," said Percy encouragingly. "How long do you plan to wait, before you are satisfied that he will not make a claim?"
"I don't know." Then he lifted his eyes to his father's and said suspiciously, "Is there something in particular you think I'm waiting for?"
Percy nodded.
"I think you're waiting for an opportunity to take revenge."
"I'll admit the thought crossed my mind, and at times I do allow myself to think about it. But how would I do that? I'm not a murderer, I can't ambush someone to beat him within an inch of his life, and I can't pay someone to do it for me, either."
"Good," said Percy, obviously relieved.
"Did you really think I would?" When no answer was forthcoming, he rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Father," he said sarcastically. Percy shrugged elegantly.
"You're a mystery to me, Chris. I don't know you. I probably never did, and I most likely never will. However," he said, standing, "I am proud of you."
"Are you?" Christopher said with a sardonic smile. "Including my abominable behaviour last year and before?"
"Last year was a misguided attempt to save the world."
Christopher laughed shortly.
"Go ahead and laugh. I don't care. As for before--" he shrugged again. "The past is just that: the past. And I am glad you came to me now. But I think you will do what you will do, and nothing I say can sway you."
"So you won't tell me what to do?"
"You won't listen to me," Percy smiled. "You'll feel better now that you have talked about it, and you'll be able to think with a clearer mind."
"What about Georgiana?" Christopher thought this was typical. The one time he wanted his father's advice, he would not give it.
Percy shook his head and smiled to himself. Why his son thought people should take his word without any reasoning behind it was another mystery to him.
"Tell her why you know the man did not mean to harm her, not just that you know he did not. She is probably upset to know you've been associating with highwaymen in the first place. You know you haven't told any of us much of those four years in London."
"She knows what my business was there," Christopher protested, mostly to himself. "Of course I would be associating with a few lowlifes."
Just then, Georgiana entered the room.
"Oh, there you are. I thought you had left," she said in a manner that broke Christopher's heart. She did not trust him out of her sight. He gave Percy a meaningful look, then stood to greet his wife properly.
"Leave you?" he said. "Never."
"Never?" she said, quirking an eyebrow. "That seems so final."
"Never," he repeated, kissing her nose.
"Well," said Percy. "I think this meeting is over. Excuse me, please." He gave them a gentle push out the door, and closed it behind them. Peace and quiet.