What Kitty Did Next

by Carrie Kablean

  Lady Fanshawe, a petite, cheerful and somewhat rotund woman, carrying a small pug in her arms, appeared and welcomed her guests before each of the visitors was dispersed to rooms made ready for them. They would be expected at dinner in just over an hour.

  Kitty, a little nervous at the thought of meeting Frederick and William Fanshawe again, was relieved that her arrival at the drawing room coincided with that of Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, and they entered to find their hosts and Mr Bridgwater conversing with a young woman of about two and twenty. Sir Frederick stepped forward to introduce, ‘My daughter, Miss Felicia Fanshawe.’

  Kitty saw before her a tall and elegant individual, striking rather than beautiful, whose blue eyes, high cheekbones and strong nose showed her family resemblance to her brother, Frederick. However, where his expression implied hauteur, hers hinted at merriment. Kitty saw all this as the ladies exchanged curtsies, but what shocked her – and shocked is hardly too strong a word – was Miss Fanshawe’s hair. It was cut short! The style, Kitty knew – from her perusal of fashion plates in ladies’ magazines – was called ‘à la Titus’, so named after that emperor’s short and face-framing curls, and had become fashionable in France just a few years previously, but she had neither seen nor expected to see it sported here. She found herself transfixed and then wondered if Miss Fanshawe was carrying out a similar appraisal of her face and person. She almost blushed but, luckily, the arrival of Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana diverted attention away from her.

  ‘My brothers tell me you made their acquaintance in London,’ said Miss Fanshawe, addressing Kitty and Georgiana. ‘I hope they were not too tiresome! I shall do my best to make amends.’ She laughed. ‘You have been looking at Hazelton Place today, I understand. What are your opinions?’

  Kitty and Georgiana made answers as tactfully as they could, not knowing Miss Fanshawe’s views on the estate and aware that her uncle thought highly of it. ‘You had best ask Mr Bingley,’ said Kitty. ‘As you are most probably aware, it is he and my sister, Mrs Bingley, who are seeking a property in this part of the country. I know not if any agreement has been reached. Your own home is quite delightful.’

  Miss Fanshawe looked around, as if considering that possibility for the first time. ‘Yes, it is. I like it best when I am outdoors, actually. There is some good riding to be had around here. You would have the same at Pemberley, no doubt, Miss Darcy?’

  Georgiana agreed that was so but had little else to offer by way of conversation. One is as shy as the other is direct, thought Kitty. She rather admired Miss Fanshawe’s open warmth and firm manner; she was beginning to think that her cropped hair was not so bad either – it did not, after all, detract from her appearance. She imagined Mrs Bennet’s reaction were any of her daughters to take so drastic a measure and touched her own hair as if to reassure herself that all was as it should be.

  ‘Where is your family home, Miss Bennet?’ enquired Miss Fanshawe.

  Kitty’s response was curtailed by the arrival of William Fanshawe, who made his way straight to his sister’s side.

  ‘Miss Bennet, Miss Darcy. Welcome to Danson Park,’ he greeted. ‘This is indeed a happy circumstance. I am most happy to see you here. You are both well I trust; not too fatigued from your journey?’

  ‘They seem to have survived it quite well, William,’ Felicia Fanshawe answered for Kitty and Georgiana. ‘It is not so very far.’

  ‘We met in one of the galleries in London,’ William Fanshawe told her, ‘just before the ladies were to journey to Derbyshire. I had thought we might have found some other galleries to visit in town but it was not to be.’

  ‘I should have liked that,’ said Kitty, wishing she could think of something more erudite to say to the young man now standing beside her. ‘You have some interesting landscapes here,’ she began.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ said Mr Fanshawe, looking around the room, ‘some of the family heirlooms. I am afraid I don’t take much notice of those but I can give you information about them all if you would like me to. You can also see the rogues’ gallery that is the Fanshawe clan, but that may be asking too much. Ah, talking of rogues, here is my esteemed elder brother. Freddie, we are over here!’

  Miss Fanshawe excused herself, saying she would rejoin them all shortly, and Frederick Fanshawe strode over, looking every inch the country squire. He bowed gracefully to first Kitty, then Georgiana.

  ‘This is an unexpected pleasure,’ he announced. ‘We are most grateful to Bridgwater for bringing you here, and to Mr and Mrs Bingley for providing the reason. Neither my brother nor I knew you were residing so close to us. This bodes well indeed. We must show you around the park tomorrow before you go. I think, Miss Bennet, you are not so familiar with this part of the country?’

  ‘Then we must remedy that too,’ said William Fanshawe, looking to Kitty for acceptance of his proposal. ‘What say you and Miss Darcy to taking a drive hereabouts tomorrow?’

  ‘You are most kind,’ said Kitty, who was pleased and favoured the idea, ‘but I will have to refer to Mr Darcy. We arrived as one party and he may have other commitments. Colonel Fitzwilliam is with us, as well. Allow me to introduce you.’ She looked around for him but he was talking with Miss Fanshawe and her father.

  ‘Well, let us confer while we eat,’ said William Fanshawe, dinner having just been announced. He offered Kitty his arm; his brother did likewise to Georgiana and the four proceeded, as happy and charming a quartet as anyone could wish to see.

  It would be an exaggeration to say the conversation over dinner was particularly remarkable or especially enlightening. It did, however, serve in that the Darcys, Fanshawes and Bingley were pleased to find each other excellent company – in a way that people with like-minded opinions and wit will inevitably find themselves agreeable over the course of one evening – and Sir Edward was pleased to be the agent who had brought about this happy confluence. Hazelton was hardly mentioned, all but forgotten – and would be forgotten, except to show Dapplewick in a favourable light – but the Fanshawes hoped Mr and Mrs Bingley would be pleased to settle in this part of the country, the merits of which were discussed and lauded to further persuade him.

  The attractions of Derbyshire and Yorkshire, though of some interest to Kitty and Georgiana, would not be uppermost in their recollections of the day. The Fanshawe brothers were amusing companions, well travelled, well educated and full of schemes for the entertainment of the young ladies and information as to the places they must visit. Kitty was quite delighted with both of them. Across the table, she noticed, Colonel Fitzwilliam was having no trouble engaging the attention of Miss Fanshawe. She was an animated conversationalist, not exceeding the bounds of decorum of course, but Kitty could see that she was lively and vivacious, clearly traits that were also endearing her to the colonel. Miss Fanshawe seemed as amiable and interesting a young lady as Kitty had ever met, even without the encumbrance of two charming brothers.

  When the ladies withdrew after dinner, Kitty looked around her and wondered again at how quickly her life had changed. Here was Lizzy seated beside Lady Fanshawe in this wonderful old house, full of warmth and pleasant people with interesting things to say; and there was her dear friend Georgiana chatting to Felicia Fanshawe. She crossed the room to join the younger women in time to hear Miss Fanshawe lament their return to Derbyshire the next day. That lament was taken up by her mother, whose practised eye had noted the partiality her elder son had shown for Miss Darcy (and whose keen mind had estimated Georgiana’s worth, both materially and physically) during dinner. The good lady was already formulating a plan. She was, she told Elizabeth, always glad of company; in fact, she had hoped to receive some cousins at Danson Park this very month but their arrival had been delayed. Perhaps – and she would be so delighted – Mr and Mrs Darcy and her charming relations would like to join them for a week? It was so hard on the young people when they were deprived of convivial company, was it not?

  CHAPTER 37

  The storm that had been threat
ening the previous afternoon vent its fury during the night, rattling the windowpanes in Kitty’s bedroom. She lay awake thinking about Lady Fanshawe’s invitation, which had been partially accepted. Elizabeth and Mr Darcy declined with thanks, citing other engagements (Kitty wondered whether they just wanted to be at Pemberley for a few days with only each other for company) and hoped, instead, that Sir Frederick and Lady Fanshawe would honour them with their presence at their summer ball in August. The alarm this polite refusal had excited in Kitty and Georgiana was doused by Colonel Fitzwilliam, who stepped in to gladly accept, and to offer his services to chaperone the young ladies to Danson Park. Thus, the remainder of the evening had been coloured by expectations of pleasurable pursuits in fine company and expeditions to local beauty spots. Kitty had listed these in her journal, along with other observations of the day, before she had climbed into bed. She had also tried to clarify her thoughts about the younger Fanshawe but had found it easier to discern what others were feeling.

  Georgiana is a little in thrall to Frederick Fanshawe, although only those who know her well would see it. She did blush when he spoke to her after dinner, which would have vexed her excessively! And she was almost skittish at the thought of a week at Danson Park. Perhaps she is becoming less shy: lovely girl! FF is quite the beau.

  As for Colonel Fitzwilliam, I do believe he is quite taken with Felicia. Then again, I do not know him well, so perhaps he is always this charming? I wonder why he has not married? Perhaps Georgiana knows. What does Miss Fanshawe think of the colonel? This will be an interesting week.

  It is pleasant to see Sir Edward again. He is always so solicitous of me and so very kind. Avuncular, I think that is the word. He referred to his son tonight when talking to Mr Bridgwater; another man may have become bitter after such losses; I admire him for his fortitude.

  As for William…

  Indeed, what of William? Kitty liked him well enough but she could not shake the feeling that he was not so… Not so what? Not so handsome as Henry Adams? No. Not so artistic? Not so eligible? Certainly not that. William Fanshawe was far more eligible! What then? You are ridiculous, Catherine Bennet, she had told herself, and written,

  …he is a most amiable and intelligent gentleman and I am looking forward to furthering our friendship.

  ‘Well, that’s insightful!’ she had reprimanded herself, as she closed the journal and blew out the candle. Now, hours later, she was still awake. A furious flurry of rain made her look at the window. The room was dark but she thought she could discern the first glimmer of morning light. Yesterday they had spoken of a phaeton ride around the park; that seemed unlikely now. She shut her eyes and imagined the days ahead. She hoped nothing would go wrong. This was a constant worry in Kitty’s life: something would go wrong. Why do I always think this, she wondered? When had it started? Perhaps it was because she had been ill when she was a child. ‘But,’ reasoned the calm voice in her head, ‘you recovered; you are well now. You are happier than you have ever been. You have been to London. You are living at Pemberley.’

  ‘But what is to become of me?’ came the anxious reply. ‘Where will I live? Who will I be?’ All her sisters were married, all with their own lives; she had never imagined she would be the one left behind. In her mind that had been Mary. She turned over in her bed and rearranged the pillows.

  ‘Silly and ignorant,’ said her father’s voice. ‘Not so pretty as your sisters,’ chimed in her mother. She had to marry, but who and when? If she didn’t marry, she would have to stay at Longbourn… but Longbourn was entailed to the dreadful Mr Collins. She would have no home, just as Mama always said. Well, of course, she would have Lizzy and Jane; but she would not have her own home. Georgiana would marry and go away, just as Lydia had gone away… well, not just as Lydia had gone away. There would be nephews and nieces and she would become the useful aunt. At least she would not have to be a governess. But perhaps it was better to be a governess, lead one’s own life, than be the aunt, travelling from Pemberley to Dapplewick – she supposed the Bingleys would take Dapplewick – and back again? No, she could not be a governess. What could she be?

  ‘A wife, a mother,’ said the voice in her head. Was that all? What else is there? No answers came, just more rain. ‘Everything is so uncertain,’ sighed Kitty, ‘and I am so tired!’ She pulled the quilt over her head and tried to get back to sleep.

  ***

  The storm had worn itself into a fine drizzle when she went down to breakfast, and her night-time fears had subsided somewhat as well. She found everyone else already assembled and a lively discussion taking place at one end of the table as to the merits of visiting Conisbrough.

  ‘It is just a lot of ruins,’ Frederick Fanshawe was saying.

  ‘Of course it is ruined,’ rejoined his sister. ‘It is a medieval castle. How could it be otherwise? It is romantic!’ She turned to William for support but he had seen Kitty arrive. ‘Miss Bennet, good morning!’ he greeted. ‘Join us, we value your opinions. We are trying to interest my brother here in the history of England. It is no easy task!’

  Kitty smiled and Frederick Fanshawe shook his head, leaving the field open for his brother to continue. ‘Conisbrough Castle is a fine relic, not far from here. The keep is massive, the walls crumbling as befits a medieval castle, and there are fine views from the top of the hill. It’s been abandoned for centuries, since the Civil War at least.’

  ‘I should like to see it,’ said Kitty, whose recent reading had included the history of the Wars of the Roses, a period she found fascinating – more for the bitter and often murderous conflict between the families than for the battles. ‘You are thinking of going today?’

  ‘We cannot go today,’ said Miss Fanshawe, indicating the weather. ‘We are thinking about when you return. With or without you, Freddie.’ She cast a disapproving glance at her elder brother.

  ‘Oh, he’ll come, won’t you?’ said William Fanshawe.

  ‘I should not want to disappoint our charming guests, though I can think of better places to go.’

  ‘The racecourse, I suppose,’ said his sister. ‘Lucky for us all that it is not the racing season.’ There was an edge to her voice.

  Her remark caused Sir Edward to look up from behind the York Herald and he opened his mouth to speak, but Lady Fanshawe, who thus far had been content to listen to her children squabble, broke in with: ‘Miss Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, should you like to see this castle? Perhaps you have already been there?’

  Neither had; both expressed a wish to do so. Elizabeth also thought it would make a fine excursion one day and so Frederick Fanshawe was completely overruled. He took it well, of course, waiting a full three minutes before withdrawing from the discussions around him and finding refuge in his copy of The Sporting Magazine.

  ‘Do you like riding?’ asked Felicia Fanshawe of Kitty. ‘I admit it is one of my favourite pastimes. It makes me feel free! And on horseback I am quite as strong as my brothers.’

  ‘Though not as fast,’ cut in Freddie Fanshawe.

  ‘I didn’t think you were interested in conversing with us,’ rejoined his sister, addressing the back of his magazine. ‘And in any case, that is only because I have to ride side-saddle. I should like to see you ride side-saddle!’

  There was no response and Miss Fanshawe turned back to Kitty. ‘Do try to forgive him,’ she said.

  Kitty smiled and then confessed she did not ride.

  ‘Never mind. We will go out in the gig together when you come to stay. If you would like?’

  ‘Be careful before you reply,’ interrupted William Fanshawe. ‘You might like to see how she drives the gig first.’ It was a teasing warning, delivered without any spite.

  ‘I am prepared to take the chance,’ laughed Kitty. She was already looking forward to it.

  At around midday, when the sun made a feeble appearance, a walk was proposed and everyone ventured outside. William Fanshawe took it upon himself to point out to Kitty the recent improvements to the w
ilderness area and she learned that he was interested in the new ideas about landscaping.

  ‘We have pretty gardens at my home in Longbourn,’ said Kitty in response to a question, ‘but not so extensive as these.’

  ‘I sometimes toy with the idea of landscaping myself,’ said Mr Fanshawe, ‘but I lack an estate of my own and this one has been designed without my help!’ He pointed out the various vistas and prospects to Kitty, who admired everything he indicated as well as his knowledge of the subject. She was of a mind to admire knowledge in others, especially when the other was pleasant and eligible.

  They had reached the formal gardens now, where they caught up with Lady Fanshawe and Elizabeth. ‘At least your journey home will be more pleasant, Mrs Darcy,’ her hostess was saying. ‘The roads are generally good from here to Pemberley and I trust the rain will not have made them hazardous.’

  Elizabeth hoped so, too, but opined the journey would take less than half a day. She had enjoyed her brief sojourn with the Fanshawes, and found much to like in her ladyship; she was pleased to have found another amiable neighbour within easy distance of Pemberley.

  Mr Bingley and Mr Bridgwater were to remain at Danson Park until the following day when they would travel south together. The remaining visitors took their leave, full of thanks and promises to meet again soon, and in the case of three of the party, very soon indeed.

  CHAPTER 38

  ‘Four days will quickly steep themselves in night,’ said Kitty to Georgiana, quoting from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which she had plucked from the library that morning and which now lay before her on the picnic rug. The summer weather had returned and they were lazing by the stream.