by Leenie Brown
Caroline’s eyebrows rose. “Surely not.”
“I assure you it is entirely possible.” She looked down at her hands for a moment. “But no matter the grief they have caused, I love them, and every time they offend, I forgive them.” She looked up. “It is not easy, but it is necessary. Do you understand?”
Caroline said that she did, and Kitty continued on.
“That appointment is my forgiveness. It is not easily given, but it is necessarily done.”
“Thank you,” murmured Caroline.
“There is one more thing I should like to give you, but for an entirely different reason.” Kitty took out a small notebook and a pencil. “As your friends have guessed, I have sold some of my designs to Mrs. Havelston. Those are reserved for Lady Matlock. However, I would like to design a gown for you.”
Caroline shook her head and blinked her eyes rapidly to rid them of the tears that threatened. “I do not deserve it,” she whispered.
“No, you do not,” agreed Kitty. “But I wish to give it you if you will answer a few questions and then listen to an explanation.” Kitty opened the notebook. “Oh, and you must not divulge my name as the designer. Do we have an agreement?”
Caroline nodded.
“Very well. I have noticed that you wear dresses at soirees that have small sleeves and a very straight line. Is this the style of gown you would prefer I create?”
“I feel that they make me look taller.”
Kitty nodded and wrote that down. “Do you prefer flounces or lace?”
“Lace.”
“Light and flowing or more substantial fabrics.”
“Light and flowing. It feels nice to have it swishing so easily while dancing.”
Kitty smiled. “I agree. It is much more pleasant. Now, colour, what colour do you prefer?”
“Oh, my friends have told me that I look divine in soft orange. They say it highlights the bits of ginger in my hair.”
Kitty tilted her head and bit the top of her pencil. “I do not agree. The colours are too similar. They blend. I would think that a blue or green would be more flattering. Either of those colours would show the fairness of your complexion and hair to its best advantage.”
“But, Miss Ivison assures me that it does. I have been in society more than you, Miss Bennet; I think I know more of what is accepted.”
Kitty lowered her pencil and leaned forward. “Miss Bingley, I apologize if you find what I am about to say is offensive, but I think it needs saying. Miss Ivison is wrong, and I would venture to guess she is purposefully that way.”
Caroline gasped.
“How does Miss Ivison treat people who have connections to trade?” Kitty leaned back and folded her arms, watching Caroline shift uneasily in her chair. “I believe I know.” Again, she let Caroline fidget for a moment before continuing. “You have connections to trade, rather direct ones. Why do you suppose she does not shun you?”
“Because I am a lady.”
Kitty shook her head. “No, you have money and a wealthy brother, who until recently was a single man in possession of a fortune. Though he has married, they have not left you because that would lessen their chances of having some important connections, I would imagine.”
Caroline’s brows knit together, and she shook her head. “No, they are not like that.”
“Then, why did they tell you to wear clothes that would not feature your beauty? I may not have spent time in town, Miss Bingley, but I assure you that there are petty women in the country as well as in the city. One of them is my sister Lydia. She will tell me a dress looks beautiful on me when I know full well it does not. She does it so that the gentlemen will pay her more attention than me.” She laughed bitterly. “And you know, I followed her about and listened to her recommendations even though I knew better.” She leaned forward once again. “And do you know why?”
Kitty waited, but Caroline stubbornly refused to answer, so Kitty sighed and continued. “Because I wanted what she had. I wanted to have gentlemen flock to me, and while I followed her directives, I was allowed to stand at her side and comfort those she cast off.” Kitty shrugged. “Pathetic, is it not? To follow another just to gain a place in society?” She picked up her pencil once again. “I will not recommend any fabric that will not look lovely on you because you deserve to find your own place in society. It was Mary who told me to be myself if I wished to capture the colonel’s heart, and she was right. You will find that Jane, Mary and Elizabeth put on no airs when capturing their gentlemen, either.”
Caroline’s eyes narrowed, and she huffed lightly. “Indeed?”
“Most certainly.” Kitty closed her eyes and rubbed her head. Why was sitting and talking such a painful task?
“My place in society has already been chosen.” Caroline’s voice was a pleasant as Lydia’s would be when she wished everyone to think whatever she had to say was pleasing instead of disappointing. “I am to wed Mr. Blackmoore. He will have a baronetcy, you know. One day, I shall be Lady Blackmoore.”
Kitty continued to rub her temples but opened her eyes. “He also has a mistress, who will spend all your money and leave the estate in ruin.”
Caroline gasped.
“Forgive me, but I think you should know. He has taken up with an actress. He needs a proper wife to secure his inheritance.” She shrugged. “Mary told me. Lord Rycroft and Mr. Blackmoore are good friends. You should also know that this actress apparently has an appetite for gaming and a pronounced ability to lose. Hence, my concern for your financial future.”
Caroline shoved the paper she still held back at Kitty. “First you tell me my clothes are not right for my colouring, then you insult my friends, and now you would speak ill of the man I am to marry. I do not need your appointment. I am certain Lady Blackmoore has connections I can use should I wish to switch modistes.”
Kitty tucked her hands under her legs. “I will not take it back. You will go to that appointment. I will design you a dress. And if you should wish it, I will do my best to help you get rid of that actress. No lady, no matter the sins they have committed ─ and you have committed several ─ deserves such treatment.”
Caroline shrugged. “It is the way of society.”
“Not all society.” Kitty gave an exasperated sigh. Speaking to Caroline was nearly more taxing than talking to Lydia, and since she knew that speaking to Lydia did little good, she rose. “I fear I have overstayed my time.” She held the back of the chair to steady herself just a bit as the room was once again beginning to spin as it had at Matlock House. “My design will be at Mrs. Havelston’s by the day on that card. You have only to ask for it. Good day, Miss Bingley.” And with a curtsey, Kitty left Caroline standing there still holding the slip of paper.
“I do not know why I tried to be civil. No, not civil, beyond civil ─ nice, friendly, generous, forgiving even.” Kitty grumbled to Henriella as she walked the length of the hall.
“Miss Bennet,” said a surprised Mr. Hurst as he entered his home. “What brings you calling?”
“A fool’s mission, apparently.” Kitty covered her mouth with her hand. “Forgive me, I spoke without thought.”
Mr. Hurst chuckled. “There is nothing to forgive. Caroline is rarely sensible, so you must have been to call on her.”
Kitty swayed just a bit and Henriella grabbed her elbow. Mr. Hurst began insisting that she stay until she felt less dizzy until Kitty held up her hand to silence him. “I will be well as soon as I return to my aunt’s home and have a rest. Truly, as soon as I am in the carriage and able to close my eyes, the world will stop spinning.” She took the arm he offered and allowed him to guide her to her carriage.
“Miss Bennet,” he said as she settled onto the bench. “Why did you call on my sister?”
Kitty shrugged. “I wished to forgive her for all she has done to me and my sisters, and I wanted her to have a tangible representation of that forgiveness.” She sighed. “I arranged an appointment with the modiste whose shop she was a
t when the incident,” she touched her forehead, “occurred. I have also promised her a dress of my own design. Something that no one else is to have, save Lady Matlock.”
“And she refused?” Mr. Hurst could not contain his surprise. “She deserves no such treatment, I assure you. You are far too generous.”
“She did not refuse until I overstepped my bounds. I was perhaps a bit too open with her regarding what I know of Mr. Blackmoore and my opinion of her friends.”
“Ah, that does sound like Caroline,” he said with a nod. “I am sorry for the injury she has caused you and her apparent ingratitude for your forgiveness. I trust you will be well soon.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hurst.” Kitty waved to him through the window as he shut the carriage door; then, as the horses began their trek homeward, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She had done what she had determined she would do. Unfortunately, not all of her plans had ended successfully. She still needed to learn to keep some comments to herself. At least, the meeting with Lord Matlock had gone better than the one with Miss Bingley. She popped her head up. “Henriella, do you suppose Thomas would buy a paper for me?” She searched inside her reticule for the amount she would need.
Henriella knocked on the roof of the carriage, and soon they had stopped and the door opened. “A paper for Miss Bennet,” she instructed as she handed the coins Kitty had found to Thomas.
Thomas stared at the money. “But there is not a paper to be purchased here.”
“Then, climb back up on the box and keep a close eye, so that you might stop and purchase the first one you see.” There was a pleasantness to her tone, for she was never truly harsh with her brother.
“As you wish. Miss Bennet. It should not be long until I find a paper for you.”
“Thank you, Thomas. I wish to know why Lord Matlock asked if I had read the paper. I really must start reading it in the mornings. If I had, this gash might not be on my head and the world would stand still instead of wobbling about.”
Thomas closed the door, and they continued on their way for some distance before stopping once again.
“Did you find a paper?” Kitty asked as the door opened. “Oh,” she said when she realized that the man at the door was not Thomas but Richard. “I had need of a paper,” she explained. “Your father seemed to think it important that I read it.”
“Pardon me, Colonel. I should like to stretch my legs,” said Henriella as she moved to exit the carriage. “I shall find Thomas, miss.”
“Of course.” Richard helped her from the carriage. Then, climbing in, he took a seat next to Kitty and closed the door, and with a tap on the roof, the carriage began moving.
“Oh, what of Henriella?” Kitty looked out the window in desperation.
“Darcy will see that she and Thomas are returned to the Gardiners.” He moved across to sit next to her. “Now, I know that you have been to see my father and assume that you are in Mayfair to see Mr. Hurst?”
She shook her head slightly and grimaced. “I came to see Miss Bingley.” She closed her eyes and found herself gathered to him with her head pressed against his shoulder.
“I should like to know why, but I do not wish to tax you further. You must be exhausted.”
“I am, but if you allow me to rest my head here and speak with my eyes closed, I shall attempt an explanation.” And she did. She told him everything from the visit to Mrs. Havelston to the conference with his father and finally to her call on Miss Bingley.
He stroked her hair as she spoke. The soothing action caused her words to begin slurring as she ended her tale.
“But I do not know why your father wished me to read the paper or why he insisted that you were to marry me and not Miss de Bourgh.”
“Shh,” he said as he continued to run his hand along her hair. “There is an explanation, but it would be best if you were rested before I give it.”
She opened her eyes halfway and smiled at him.
He kissed the top of her head. “Just know for now that I will be marrying you and not my cousin Anne.” He kissed her head again. “Rest, my love. All is well,” he whispered. “All is well.”
Chapter 12
January 21, 1812
Finally, the sun pushed its way over the horizon, etching fingers of colour across the frosted glass of the window, giving Kitty permission to rise and stretch. She had lain snuggled under the warmth of her blankets an hour, just waiting for this moment. She knew that now, though her room was chilly, there would be a fire in the dining room and her uncle would be there, reading his paper and having tea.
The anxious fluttering in her stomach increased as she looked at the ball gown that hung on her wardrobe. Tonight, she would be presented to London society as the future Mr. Richard Fitzwilliam. She giggled as she rubbed her arms to warm them. It still sounded strange to her to call him Mr. Fitzwilliam instead of Colonel, but at Admiral Fitzwilliam’s insistence, a substitute had quickly been found to complete Richard’s term in the militia, a situation that pleased Richard but left his father less than happy.
Kitty tied her robe tightly about herself and scooted out the door and down the stairs.
“Your paper.” Uncle Gardiner handed her the paper, having already opened it and folded it to show the important society happening such as engagements. “I see no notice declaring you have broken your agreement with Fitzwilliam. I believe you may rest easy.”
She smiled at his tease. Indeed, she had started reading the paper first thing in the morning because of those announcements, but now, she did it to be well-versed in all the happenings of town. She was determined that in that area, at least, Miss Bingley and her friends would not find her wanting. Finishing the society entries, she flipped the paper around to read the news. This part she read to be well-versed on topics of conversation she might hear between the men of her new family.
“Ladies do not read the news,” said her uncle with a chuckle.
“Ladies do read the news,” she retorted. “They just refuse to speak of it when gentlemen are around for fear the gentlemen might feel threatened.”
“Ah, it is good to hear you arguing,” said her aunt as she entered the room. “You were so sullen when you came home with us from Longbourn after Jane’s and Mary’s weddings. You were certainly not the Kitty I knew.” She held up a hand to stop the protest that Kitty was prepared to make. “I know, you feel as though you have never really been yourself, but rather an actress trying to find her role; however, you know I disagree. You may have been lead to do things or behave certain ways by your sister, but, I remember you as a young child, and sullen is not a word one would ever use to describe the child you were. You were happy, stubborn and sweet.” She poured a cup of tea and reached for a roll.
“You know,” she said as she broke the roll apart and prepared to eat it, “I remember on one of my visits to Longbourn when you were not more than five, you had found a bird hopping about the yard. Determined to catch it, you giggled and giggled as you chased it. And when you finally caught it and realized that the poor thing was injured, you insisted that it be cared for. Oh my, the tears that fell until your father relented!” She lifted her roll, but before she took a bite, she added. “That is who you are. A pleasant young woman who has great determination but a heart that is as soft and sweet as the fresh cream on this bun.”
Mr. Gardiner rose and took the paper back from Kitty. “And I have found it wisest to always agree with everything your aunt says.” He winked at her and then kissed his wife’s cheek before heading to his warehouse.
Mrs. Gardiner moved from roll to tea cup. “How is your head this morning?”
“I have not had a dizzy spell since,” she bit her lip and contemplated how long it had been, “since the day before yesterday.”
“Good. Be sure that you are not too active today if you wish to survive the evening. In fact, a rest this afternoon before you dress would be beneficial. I am sure Mary would be willing to allow for that.” She clucked her tongue.
“I am still unwilling to forgive your little adventure about town so shortly after your injury.” Her brows rose, and she looked over her cup at her niece. “But, I think you have learned from the experience, have you not?”
Kitty smiled sheepishly. She remembered well the scolding she had received first, from her aunt and, then, from the surgeon after she had returned from her visit to Miss Bingley’s house. “I have been good for more than two weeks, Aunt.” And it was true. She had kept mostly to the house, leaving only for a short excursion with her aunt to a shop or with Richard for a walk. Her activities had been few. Stitching and drawing had proven to be ones that would make her head throb more quickly than simply sitting and listening, sometimes with eyes closed, to conversation or a passage being read. Thankfully, Richard had been obliging and had called often to keep her company.
Her aunt’s teacup clattered just a bit as it was returned to its saucer. “Well, see that you continue to be so.” It might have been a harsh comment had it not been accompanied by a pat of the hand and a smile.
Kitty and her aunt lapsed into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional comment from her aunt regarding some item that needed attending. When her tea was finished, Kitty rose to go back to her room.
“Will you be ready to go in an hour?” They were to spend the day with Mary and her sisters before the ball that was planned for that evening.
“I can be,” said Kitty and then remembering the comments her aunt had made as they ate, added, “Will that give you time to do what is needed?”
“Oh, my dear, yes. I think I am more excited about this ball than you.” A smile lit her face. “It is not every tradesman’s wife who is invited to Rycroft Place to attend a soiree with people the likes of Lord and Lady Matlock.”
Kitty’s shoulders drooped just a bit.
Her aunt waved her away. “I know what people of their station think of me, my dear. It will come as no shock if I am shunned. But to see the splendor of it all…,” she sighed. “It will be quite the treat.” She rose and wiped her hands on her apron. “Now, to see to the children before I leave them with their nurse for the day.” She scurried out of the room and up the stairs.