Kitty’s words stung. Mary suspected what her sisters thought of her and now she knew for certain. The revelation coming in the guise of an apology lessened the injury. She swallowed hard to push down the lump in her throat. Does everyone think I am a bore? she wondered. She cleared her throat. “You shall rally, I am certain of it, in time. We shall both be better ladies than before.” Mary was determined. The thought of people talking about her behind hands and doors cut her to the quick. She knew, deep inside, she had to do something about it.
“Yes, Mary. I hope I shall. It is not pleasant to always be miserable and angry at the world.”
Mary squeezed her arm.
The two sisters rounded the corner and saw the old Norman church up ahead. Mary had not realised they had covered so much ground as they talked. They stopped to admire the scene before them.
“It looks so pretty in the snow.” Kitty managed a weak smile then.
“It does.” Mary’s smile matched her sister’s. “Snow has a way of making everything equal and equally beautiful.”
Kitty giggled. It was the first time she had in months. “That’s quite poetic, Mary.”
“Hmm…” Mary nodded once. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
As one, they moved on again and, as they drew closer to the church, they could see the door was ajar.
“I did not know anyone would be there in this weather,” Mary frowned.
“Let’s go in and see who it is, Mary. We can warm up for a few minutes.”
Kicking the collected snow off the bottoms of their boots on the base of the door as they opened it wide, the two young ladies entered the relative warmth of the church. The breeze was icy and, despite them both wearing bonnets and thick scarves, Mary’s ears stung somewhat from the cold. Inside they could hear someone humming a tune but could not see who it was.
“Hello?” Mary called out.
“Hello!” a disembodied voice called back in response. Immediately, Reverend Summers popped his head up from behind the pulpit. “Ladies, how nice to see you!” The young man smiled and climbed down the few steps to join them in the aisle.
The sisters curtseyed in greeting and the reverend followed suit and bowed
“I was just doing a spot of cleaning.”
“Cleaning?” Kitty exclaimed, looking surprised and more than a little amused. “Do you not have someone come in and do it for you?”
“Yes, usually I do, Miss Kitty.” Reverend Summers rubbed his hands together to warm them. “But not in this weather. It would be unkind of me to expect old Mrs Aitken to walk all the way from Meryton in the snow.” He beamed at them. “What can I do for you ladies?”
Mary and Kitty looked at each other.
“Nothing at all, Reverend,” Mary piped up. “We were taking a stroll.”
“In the snow?” he asked with incredulity.
“As you see.” Mary pursed her lips together. Walking in the snow was definitely not boring, she decided.
“It is frightfully dull to be cooped up indoors all this time,” Kitty explained. “So we took the opportunity of a break in the snowfall to walk to the church and back.”
“An excellent idea,” he replied with a nod. “It has held off a little today. But I can see from your damp overcoats that it is still snowing.”
“Indeed it is,” Mary replied, “however, only lightly.” She noticed he was still rubbing his hands together and his lips were tinged blue. “You look frightfully cold yourself.”
“It is cold in here. Warmer than outside, though,” he chuckled and reddened with awkwardness.
“Perhaps you would like to accompany us back to the house and have some tea. Mama would enjoy the company, I am sure.”
Kitty stared at her sister. Mary knew it was uncharacteristic of her to invite people to Longbourn, but she took the plunge all the same as she endeavoured to be more interesting.
“That is very kind and generous of you, Miss Bennet. I have long since wanted to spend more time with your parents. Your father, I am told, has a fine collection of books.” His face lit up at the thought.
“Indeed he has, and he is excellent at recommending something to read as well.”
Kitty watched, a bemused smile playing across her lips. Mary knew it was because she herself seemed to change in character before her very eyes. She was determined. She would no longer be a bore or dull.
“Then it is agreed,” the clergyman clapped his hands together. “If you would both be so kind as to wait for me to fetch my outdoor things, I shall walk back with you now.”
Mary smiled at Kitty as he disappeared to collect his belongings. “There! Now Mama cannot complain of the lack of diversion.”
Kitty giggled at her sister for the second time that morning. Mary was surprised to hear the sound and gratified to know that she was the one responsible for it.
Chapter Four
Kitty could see by the self-satisfied expression on her sister’s face that Mary was pleased with herself. She admitted that she was also happy Mary invited the vicar over for tea and, therefore, their mother finally had someone else to lament the wintry weather with other than them. Even Mr Bennet seemed pleased with the minister to talk to when they were all happily situated in the Longbourn drawing room, warming themselves by the fire, and tea was brought in. He was chatting away, even laughing at the reverend’s wit, and the ruddy tint to his cheeks was returning.
Reverend Summers was discussing farm management, and Mr Bennet, Kitty was glad to see, was engrossed. “Yes, I knew many farmers in my previous parish who agree with your views, Mr Bennet, on leaving land fallow for a year. I have heard that many estates employ the same technique.”
“I will not have it any other way.”
Kitty sat bemused beside Mary as they watched their mother try to get a foot in on the conversation. Kitty could hardly keep her composure with their mother spouting half-words and the odd incomprehensible vowel or two. Finally, frustration getting the better of her, Kitty watched in horror as Mrs Bennet took a deep breath and raised her voice above all others. “What about all this snow, Reverend Summers?” She raised her eyebrows as though there were no more important subject to be discussed in the whole of Christendom. Before the vicar could reply, she continued, “How are we all supposed to get into Meryton or to church, for that matter? Does it not worry you at all?” Mrs Bennet’s voice was so loud that Kitty felt Mary flinch beside her.
“Not at all, Mrs Bennet, I assure you.” The Reverend looked at her briefly then turned back to Mr Bennet. “What do you think about growing mustard on those fields as a fertiliser? I hear it is excellent.”
Mr Bennet tapped his lips with his finger. “Well…”
Mrs Bennet’s face went as red as a beetroot. She looked furious at the vicar’s response. Kitty knew from experience that what her mother wanted was to be sympathised with, placated, and to have him soothe her fears—or at the very least take them on as his own and join in her repining.
Kitty turned to her sister and whispered, “This is quite entertaining. I do not believe I have ever seen Mama unable to commandeer a conversation in the entire course of my life.”
“Nor I,” Mary muttered back. “But perhaps we ought to go and see if Hill has any cake to go with our tea before Mama gets more irritable.”
Kitty nodded. It was a good suggestion. Despite being diverted by the situation before her, she knew her mother would become ill-tempered soon, and so the idea of finding cake—which their mother never could resist—was, to her mind, quite ingenious.
The sisters rose and exited the room. When they returned, they were accompanied by Hill, a freshly filled pot of tea, and were relieved to see the delight spread across their mother’s face at the sight of Hill’s newly made cake.
Mrs Bennet set to and sliced the cake, thickly, Kitty noticed. As she handed out the sliced cake to them one by one, Mrs Bennet, pleased to be the centre of attention once more, asked Reverend Summers, “Are you settling in well at the vicarage?”
“Tolerably so, Mrs Bennet.” He smiled up at her as he took the proffered plate with the Bramley apple cake slice upon it. His eyes widened at the size of his slice and a grin spread its way across his face. “Thank you.”
“How so? How is it tolerably?” Kitty asked as she helped her mother with the tea.
The reverend sucked air in through his teeth. “Well,” he shifted slightly in his chair to face her, “the chimneys smoke and are in need of a good cleaning, and I cannot finish unpacking and settle in properly because I have been visiting with the parishioners so much. I confess I spent rather a long time with the Lucases in the past month.”
Kitty stifled a laugh and looked at Mary who shook her head almost imperceptibly.
“Oh, those Lucases!” Mrs Bennet exclaimed as she sat back down heavily on her chair and stuffed a slice of cake into her mouth. “Always believing themselves above their station,” she blurted out spraying a few crumbs as she spoke.
Reverend Summers looked confused. “Is he not knighted?”
Mary licked her lips and slid forward on the settee. “Indeed he is. Sir Lucas was knighted for his service to the Regent and King.”
“Oh,” he replied, none the wiser—it was written plainly on his face.
“What my daughter and my wife are trying to tell you, Reverend Summers,” Mr Bennet endeavoured to enlighten him, nestling his shoulders into the back padding of the chair with an air of contentment, “is that Sir Lucas used to be Mr Lucas, the town mayor, and is not part of the peerage at all.” He inclined his head; his next words were for the reverends ears only. “My wife will never let them forget it.” He nodded and his attention was immediately returned to the cake plate in his hand.
“Oh,” the vicar nodded.
“My wife believes he give himself airs above his station in life, you see?” Amusement played across Mr Bennet’s face as he nibbled away.
“Indeed that is so!” Mrs Bennet warbled on. “And their daughter, Mrs Collins, is to inherit Longbourn through that… that… husband of hers, if you please!” She folded her arms across her chest, having finished her slice of cake, and pulled such a face of displeasure that Mary and Kitty giggled.
The poor reverend did not know what to say.
The sisters watched as he glanced at Mr Bennet for assistance.
Their father shook his head and whispered, “It’s a long story.”
Chapter Five
The morning following the visit from Reverend Summers, which gave Mrs Bennet plenty to prattle on about afterwards, her wish was granted when a sleigh pulled up outside Longbourn pulling Mr and Mrs Darcy. Mary and Kitty dashed down the stairs at the sight, calling out for their parents to come and see.
Mrs Bennet was elated to have one of her daughters come all the way from Netherfield Park to call on her, which, she stated loudly to everyone and anyone within earshot, was her right and privilege as their mother.
She ushered them into the warmth of the drawing room and sat Elizabeth by the fireside. Kitty was surprised at the fuss her mother made over Lizzy. It was usually Jane who received such attentions.
“I heard this morning, Mama, that the Collinses have arrived from Pemberley to visit with Mrs Collins’ family in Meryton for the Christmas period,” Elizabeth told her as she sat and was joined by her husband.
Kitty and Mary quietly moved to the table and made a fuss of feigning interest in taking up their needlework.
“Is Mr Collins not needed at Pemberley for Christmas, Mr Darcy?” Mrs Bennet’s face turned ashen and she snapped her head round to glare at Mr Darcy.
Kitty giggled and whispered in Mary’s ear, “How dare he come within a mile of here!”
Mr Darcy shifted uncomfortably at Mrs Bennet’s obvious assertion that his decision to permit the Collinses a holiday was unwise. “It is very rare that the Collinses will be fortunate enough to travel into Hertfordshire for such a visit; therefore, I felt it within my gift to lend them the use of one of our carriages considering we are not home. My tenants and servants shall attend Christmas services at Lambton, as they do whenever there is no minister incumbent at Pemberley.”
Mrs Bennet nodded her head with her lips tightly pursed together, then shuffled over to her own chair. She clearly did not approve of Mr Darcy’s benevolence. “Well, I hope they know that I will not have them staying here.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Mama, Mr Darcy said they are to stay with Charlotte’s family at Lucas Lodge.”
“Where, no doubt, they talk all the time about having Longbourn when Mr Bennet is dead.” She huffed and looked at Elizabeth as she folded her arms across her ample bosom. “And I suppose they do with you up in Derbyshire too.”
“Mama,” Elizabeth could hardly contain her amusement, “they would hardly do so in front of me. I am Charlotte’s dearest friend and the wife of their patron. It would be impolitic to do so.”
“Humph.” Mrs Bennet turned and stared out of the window.
Kitty knew full well that their mother loathed the idea that she would be turned out of her home upon her husband’s demise and took every opportunity to disparage the Collinses and their ‘little scheme’ as she called the entail.
Neither Mary nor Kitty wanted to be involved if Mrs Bennet was to get into one of her passions, so they kept their eyes down and tried to sew whilst listening in on the conversation.
“Mama, do not trouble yourself over such things,” Elizabeth continued. “You have grandsons now, and none of them, I am sure, will see you go without when they are grown.”
Mrs Bennet dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her kerchief and whimpered.
Again, Mr Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Indeed, madam. I cannot imagine that you would envisage yourself friendless in such a time.” He smiled at her. Kitty could tell that the smile was forced but his tone was sincere and from the heart. “I pray you would put it out of your mind, Mrs Bennet. Bingley and I will see to it that you are properly taken care of.”
Mrs Bennet wept. Mary and Kitty looked at each other—this time the tears were real. “Thank you, Mr Darcy. Thank you, indeed.” She sniffed. “I was very wrong about you in the beginning, you know. I thought you rude, arrogant, and conceited, but I see now that Lizzy was right—you are every bit the gentleman.” She smiled to add weight to her compliment.
Mr Darcy fixed his smile in place, but his eyes showed he did not believe it a compliment at all. Elizabeth patted his hand. Mrs Bennet was oblivious to both their reactions.
Kitty glanced over her shoulder at Mary, whose nose was in the sewing basket fetching a new thread. Feeling her sister’s gaze, Mary’s eyes flicked upward, connected with Kitty’s, and their twinkle reflected that she too was amused by the goings-on.
Kitty cleared her throat and addressed her older sister and brother-in-law. “Lizzy, how are the babies?”
Elizabeth leant forward and smiled. Kitty realised then how much she missed her sister at Longbourn. She was always a stabilising force at home. Things most certainly were not the same without her.
“The boys are doing so very well, thank you, Kitty.” Mr Darcy leant back further so that Lizzy and Kitty could see each other better. “Jane’s boy, little Charlie, as we’re all calling him, is so hale and hearty. His smile could melt the stoniest of hearts.”
“I wish I could see that smile. It would make my day, of that I am certain,” Mrs Bennet complained and was largely ignored.
“Our son, William…” Lizzy gave Mr Darcy’s hand a squeeze. “…is growing daily. Soon I believe he will be able to travel to visit here. Hopefully before we bring you all to Netherfield for the feast.”
“Oh, and when will that be, pray tell?” Mrs Bennet huffed as she looked out at yet more falling snow beyond the windows. “I declare I have never seen a winter like it.”
“That is true, madam,” Mr Darcy agreed with her, bringing a satisfied smile to her face. “Not even in Derbyshire have I known a winter this harsh.”
Kitty followed
their gazes and looked out of the window too. She shivered at the wintry scene outside. It was so cold, it was as though the weather penetrated through the stone walls and into her very body.
“Are you cold, Miss Bennet?”
Kitty turned back to see Mr Darcy standing.
“Please take my seat and be closer to the fire. I am certain Lizzy would like to sit with one of her sisters.”
His smile was so warm and genuine that, without realizing it, she stood, crossed the room, and was seated beside Lizzy before she had time to thank her brother-in-law. “I thank you, Mr Darcy. And, please, I have said before, we are brother and sister now. Call me Kitty.”
He smiled warmly and bowed courteously. “Very well. Are you warmer now, Kitty?”
She did not miss the look in his eyes. He is genuinely concerned for me, she thought. “Thank you. This seat is much better.”
“If there is anything I can get you, or…” he turned and gazed kindly at Mary “…your sister, anything at all, it would be my pleasure.” His gaze was loaded, and both of the sisters understood he referred particularly to Kitty’s recent disappointment with Sir Percival.
Kitty repeatedly swallowed down the all-too-familiar lump in her throat and blinked back the all-too-common tears stinging her eyes. Mr Darcy’s kindness was threatening the self-control which she fought to keep in a delicate balance. Lizzy reached out and took hold of her hand. The gentle gesture was enough to send one tear tumbling over the edge of her eyelid and running down her face. She brushed it away quickly before anyone saw it. To her embarrassment, as her mother began to speak again, Mr Darcy’s eyes were still upon her, watching her every move.
“To be sure, I wish I had someone to be so attentive to me, Mr Darcy,” Mrs Bennet’s voice sharply cut through the air.
Christmas at Longbourn Page 2