What Kitty Did Next

by Carrie Kablean

  Georgiana couldn’t say; she wished she knew. Kitty didn’t care and she watched entranced until the animals were lost to view as the road curved, and they ascended through the trees for half a mile or so until they reached a summit. Then she saw Pemberley House, a magnificent pale stone edifice situated across a valley, backed by a ridge of woody hills and foregrounded by a large lake that reflected the building, adding to its grandeur.

  ‘Lizzy!’ cried Kitty. ‘Is this Pemberley? This is where you live! It is magnificent.’ She looked at her sister in awe.

  ‘I am glad you approve,’ smiled Lizzy. ‘We like it, do we not, Georgiana?’

  ‘Lizzy! You are impossible!’ said Kitty. ‘It is a castle. You are a princess. We are all in a fairy tale. Am I awake?’

  ‘You are awake Kitty,’ laughed Georgiana. ‘We shall have to show her the dungeons, shall we not, Elizabeth? Do we have any ogres?’

  Kitty looked from one to the other, and back to Pemberley House. They may not know it, she thought, but this is a fairy tale to me.

  CHAPTER 29

  Kitty’s first impressions of a very great house were only reinforced as she stepped out of the carriage and past the row of servants waiting to welcome their mistress home. In the entrance hall, she took in the grand proportions of a fine staircase and was aware of portraits lining the walls and an enormous candelabrum suspended from a very high ceiling; the afternoon sun cast shafts of light across the space, giving everything a warm and golden glow. It seemed at once grand and comfortable. This is Lizzy’s home, she thought again, before her attention was taken by the lady of the house herself, who together with Georgiana was keen to settle Kitty into her room.

  ‘There will be time after dinner to show you around,’ promised Elizabeth, ‘but you will want to retire for a while before then. Georgiana has chosen the Rose Room for you, principally I think because it is close to her own.’

  ‘You are quite right,’ declared Georgiana, taking Kitty’s arm. ‘But also because it is a beautifully light room, with a fine aspect towards the lake. You will like it. It used to be my room when I was younger, and sometimes I wonder that I ever allowed myself to change it. Don’t worry, Mrs Reynolds,’ she continued, turning to the housekeeper, ‘I will show Miss Bennet the way.’

  Mrs Reynolds, who had noted Miss Darcy’s easy familiarity with Miss Bennet, nodded and said a maid would be sent directly to help the young lady unpack her things. The pair left her and Elizabeth discussing household minutiae, and Kitty was led into the stately confines of Pemberley House.

  She was delighted with everything she saw. She followed Georgiana down wide passages whose dove grey and pale blue walls were ornamented with mirrors, landscapes and portraits. Through an open doorway she saw what she took to be a small sitting room; there were other doors, closed to her for now but with the promise of discovery in the days to come, and then they stopped at another open door and she saw a large, airy room, with tall windows admitting light enough to illuminate a huge bed covered in the palest pink damask, and on the dressing table a glass vase filled with darker pink and cream carnations.

  ‘Too early for roses,’ said Georgiana, bending to smell the flowers. ‘I hope you like this room?’

  ‘I think it is wonderful,’ said Kitty, taking in the large mirror over the mantel, the little rosewood table beside the bed, the velvet upholstered chair and the writing desk placed between the windows.

  ‘And I am so happy you are here!’ said Georgiana. ‘Annie will be here at any moment to help you when your things are brought up. I shall be in my room – it is just down the hall, I will show you before dinner – and return in an hour or so and we can go down together.’ She smiled a goodbye and Kitty was left alone. She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked about her. It was the biggest room she had ever called her own, and so very well appointed. She lay back on the bed for a moment, looked at the ceiling, closed her eyes, then got up and moved to the window. She could see a little stone bridge over the stream that ran into the lake, stands of trees in the distance and great expanses of green.

  Who would have thought that I would be standing here now, she mused. If Bingley had not taken Netherfield, he would not have met Jane and none of this would have happened, I would still be at Longbourn, someone to be tolerated and ignored – rather like Mary was, until just now. I have been given an opportunity, she realised in a moment of pure clarity, to be someone else. Not someone famous or grand, she reasoned, but someone who is capable and good, someone who is thought to be accomplished and worthy of attention, someone who can venture an opinion without fear of censure, someone of substance, like Jane, and Lizzy. I am, she told herself, Catherine Louise Bennet, daughter of a gentleman, well bred and, now, well connected, and from this day my demeanour shall never let me down. It is a new beginning, she declared to no one, and it all seemed perfectly right.

  ***

  In due course, the new Miss Bennet took her place at the dining table at Pemberley, in the company of her nearest and dearest, none of whom knew that a changed person was in their midst. Naturally, the main topic of conversation was the fire and its consequences but Darcy was at pains to subdue speculation and outrage. The root of the matter, he said, was poaching. A couple of weeks before one of the tenant farmers had apprehended a poacher, a man known to his steward Mr Field, on account of previous offences on neighbouring estates, and the villain had, not for the first time, been treated leniently and warned off. The farmer, who felt the matter had not been taken seriously, had subsequently called out the miscreant in the village, and the ensuing brawl had left the poacher, a man by the name of Walden, rather the worse for the encounter. The speculation was, said Darcy, that one of Walden’s brothers, a man of limited intellect, had decided to retaliate for perceived wrongs and the situation had escalated. Now the matter was before the magistrate and the consequences for the poacher, a man with a large family to feed, and his brother looked dire.

  ‘It is,’ he said, ‘now beyond my control. Field has already begun to make the necessary arrangements to restore the cottages. I shall call upon Fothergill tomorrow to ascertain his views.’

  ‘Lord Fothergill’s property borders Pemberley,’ Elizabeth informed Kitty. ‘I will visit Mrs Moore and her children tomorrow,’ she continued, referring to the family whose home had been destroyed by the fire. ‘You said they are lodging with their cousins?’

  Darcy affirmed it was so.

  ‘I could come with you?’ offered Kitty, wondering if this offer of assistance would be dismissed outright.

  ‘Why not,’ responded Elizabeth. ‘I will speak with Mrs Reynolds in the morning and we will take some provisions with us. Although it is not quite the introductory tour of Pemberley I had envisaged for you!’

  ‘I should like to accompany you,’ reiterated Kitty and the conversation shifted to less sensational local and domestic matters.

  Their journey, and the reasons that had accelerated it, meant that none of the party were at their sparkling best and no objection was made to retiring early. Georgiana and Kitty went up together. ‘I shall not go with you to the cottages tomorrow,’ said Georgiana, stifling a yawn, ‘but we can spend the afternoon together. I shall be entirely at your disposal then.’ And so they parted. As she settled into her spacious bed in her new room, where the embers of the fire still glowed, Kitty’s last thoughts before sleep overtook her were of new beginnings, new possibilities.

  CHAPTER 30

  Their visit to the Moore household the following day, the sort of April day described as fresh, gave Kitty a greater overview of the grounds and the workings of Pemberley. She had gone with Elizabeth to the herb garden to collect some rosemary and basil to add to the basket of goods the cook had prepared for them to take and she was taken aback at the size of the gardens and glasshouses that stretched across that part of the estate. They grew their own produce at Longbourn of course, so that the land at Pemberley was cultivated should not in itself have surprised her, but the s
cale of the operation was new.

  Her wonder only increased as they rode away from the house through woody glades and on to a smaller, winding road that led to a cluster of cottages and outhouses. The grounds seemed to go on for ever. Elizabeth bade their driver go close to the properties damaged by the fire so that they could see for themselves what had happened. Already, labourers were beginning the work of clearing and rebuilding, but the two dwellings were a sorry sight; one almost razed and the other in need of much restoration. Noticing Mrs Darcy, the men touched their caps in salute and Elizabeth called out a cheery good morning – Kitty felt obliged to follow suit – and then they turned and made their way back to the cottage that now housed the Moores.

  On arrival they found the local vicar, Mr Marsden, in attendance and Mrs Moore, already flustered by her first important visitor, now set about finding places for Mrs Darcy and Miss Bennet to sit while shooing away two small children, who were evidently in awe of all the strangers in their midst. Elizabeth made the introductions, insisted they would not stay long and wanted only to assure Mrs Moore that she felt for the family in their plight and would offer assistance in whatever way was necessary until they were rehoused.

  Mrs Moore bobbed her thanks while trying to rescue Mr Marsden from one of her offspring who had attached herself to his boot. The vicar merely laughed and scooped up the troublemaker, a girl of about three years, who turned her attention to the leather satchel he wore over his shoulder. Here was a different kettle of fish to Mr Collins, thought Kitty. She saw before her a portly and affable man with easy manners, whose concern was clearly for others and not for himself; someone who went about his business quietly and without fuss. She noticed another parcel of provisions on the scrubbed wooden table and guessed that these had been given by Mr Marsden and his wife. After a few more minutes, Elizabeth, making her farewells, said they would no doubt meet again on Sunday and motioned to Kitty that they should leave.

  Back in the sunlight, Kitty shaded her eyes as she took her place in the carriage beside her sister. ‘Are such visits expected of you,’ she asked quietly, ‘now that you are the lady of such a grand estate?’

  ‘In truth, I don’t know,’ responded Lizzy, equally softly in order not to be overheard. ‘It has been a long time since there was a Mrs Darcy in residence at Pemberley and I have no idea what Lady Anne might have done. I am learning every day. I have a certain responsibility to the tenants, I think, but if there is a handbook for prescribed behaviours, I have yet to find it. I felt it necessary to visit and let them know they are not forgotten.’

  ‘It seems to me that you are doing admirably, Lizzy. You do everything with such aplomb. Did you realise what an undertaking such a large estate would be?’

  ‘Before I agreed to marry Darcy, you mean! No, I did not. I did not give it a moment’s thought. I saw only the man – and Pemberley, of course! Lucky, is it not, that I am not a complete stranger to the workings of a household? Do not look so concerned!’ she laughed. ‘I would not change a single thing!’

  They rode back to the house by a different route so that Kitty could see more of the grounds. They followed close to the stream for a distance, and sheep and cattle could be espied in the neighbouring fields. Nearer the house was a pretty flower garden with a white folly, which Elizabeth promised was a fine spot for summer picnics, and then they made a detour so that she could point out the stables and coach house.

  ‘Do you really ride now?’ asked Kitty. ‘I thought you hated it. You always insisted you never wanted to learn.’

  ‘Ah, this is yet another of my newfound marital responsibilities!’ owned Lizzy, making a rueful face. ‘Fitzwilliam loves to ride and was quite surprised that I did not. I could not let him think I was too afraid! Besides, I found I wanted to accompany him when he went out riding. It is so very beautiful hereabouts.’

  ‘But were you afraid?’

  ‘Indeed I was. I was extremely nervous, but of course I did my best to hide it. If my dear husband noticed, he was too chivalrous to comment. I am still a little wary on horseback, you will not see me galloping across the fields! You are too young to remember but I had a nasty fall from Honey, our old pony, when I was about five and I steadfastly refused to countenance riding after that. Even Jane could not convince me otherwise.’

  ‘So love really does conquer all then,’ observed Kitty with a wry smile. ‘And I thought you were fearless!’

  ‘No, did you really? That would make no sense. A little fear, now and again, sharpens our senses, don’t you think? As long as it is nothing too grave, of course. Do you want to learn to ride while you are here? The mare Mr Darcy has given me is both placid and intelligent; I will share her with you if you would like, but I would not presume to teach you. You will need guidance from a better rider than me.’

  ‘Thank you, but no,’ said Kitty, quickly. ‘I am content to watch your progress. I prefer more sedentary pursuits, I am not so strong as you!’ She was, however, quietly astounded that Lizzy, who always seemed so very confident, had her own frailties – frailties she determined to overcome, Kitty reminded herself, and that was something to emulate. She cast a sideways glance at her sister, who had her head back and eyes closed in a brief homage to the sun. How does she manage everything so well, she wondered, not for the first time.

  CHAPTER 31

  No one, not even Elizabeth, could take greater delight in exploring Pemberley and its surrounds than Kitty. Georgiana had shown her all the principal rooms the day after she had arrived. She had marvelled at Darcys, past and present, in the portrait gallery and great hall (she supposed there would be one of Mrs Elizabeth Darcy up there soon); had looked through the various chambers, including those Lizzy had a mind to refurbish with or without chinoiserie; admired the music room, with its excellent and very new pianoforte and, of course, Georgiana’s harp; skipped around the ballroom (a ballroom! She was enchanted!); and repeated again and again how beautiful everything was. The two young women had then ventured outside so Kitty could examine the kitchen garden and listen to the gardener’s complaints about blight; see the greenhouses and wonder about pineapples and peaches; cluck at the chickens; admire the topiary; and check the progress of the spring daffodils in the garden.

  When her curiosity was suitably sated, Kitty allowed herself to be led inside and, after a little discussion, the pair decided the music room should be their next venue and that they could bear to play a little piano together. It was a perfect introduction to Pemberley and Kitty was in heaven.

  ***

  A few days after Easter, a letter arrived from Jane, confirming their safe arrival at Netherfield, and in early May – by which time Kitty was very well settled into the Darcys’ fine estate; she found, as others before have discovered, that adapting to improved circumstances requires no great effort – another letter from her arrived, this one containing an account of Mary’s wedding.

  It was a happy but quite solemn affair. Mary insisted that she wanted little in the way of fuss and, despite our mother’s best efforts to persuade her otherwise, she had her own way. Charles and I went early in the morning to Longbourn, where we had a slight breakfast together. Mary had allowed herself a new dress, of pale green muslin spotted with white, which became her well and in that, at least, Mama was satisfied. A little before eleven, the bride and our mother and father left in the carriage, and we followed in ours, hoping that the grey clouds would not turn to rain before we arrived at the church.

  The day had an altogether different air to our festive services last autumn, dear Lizzy. There were but a few flowers by way of decoration and very few people in the congregation. Mr and Mrs Gregory were there of course, along with Marianne and the bridegroom, and all looking very content – although he was, as you might expect, just a little nervous. Aunt and Uncle Phillips were invited but Mary wanted no other friends; I hope the Lucases and others of our acquaintance were not offended.

  Mr Collins was not in attendance; I do not know what came of that sugg
estion and thought it best not to make enquiries. In the event, the service was read by our own vicar and Papa gave Mary away. It all seemed rather serious and businesslike, although the happy couple were – and I hope will always be – happy in their own way. Mama shed a few tears, of course. Our father said very little to anyone, although I am sure he likes Mr Gregory well enough.

  Afterwards, we all went back to Longbourn, where we sat down to a very fine breakfast, with an excellent wedding cake the centrepiece of the table, and Mary and her husband were at last able to smile and receive our congratulations, and Mama was able to fret to her heart’s content and worry about their future and where they will be. Mr Gregory senior is an amiable gentleman, seemingly very pleased with both his son and his new daughter and I think Mary will be happy.

  The bride and bridegroom left mid-afternoon to their new lodgings, a cottage not far from Meryton on the road south, and the party broke up shortly afterwards. You will ask what are their plans but I have no definite news to tell you, except that they are determined to travel to India and do good works, whatever that means. Charles ascertained as much from his conversation with Mr Gregory, who told him that he has been making enquiries as to sailings and so forth, and spoke of his friends who had already embarked. Mama is still most upset at the thought of Mary’s undertaking a missionary life, so there was a small conspiracy not to mention such possibilities at the wedding breakfast for fear of spoiling the day. I confess I find it hard to believe that Mary will soon be so far away, but if it is her wish – already she talks of a calling – then we must respect her faith and hope for her health and safety.

  I will write soon when I have more to tell.