Kitty instinctively tightened her grip on the little girls by her side. Then there was a great appreciative whoop and cries of ‘Oh, look!’ and ‘There it goes!’ and they saw the elephant being led on its plodding journey to the south bank of the river. It was nearly there when Kitty heard her name called and, turning, found Mr Adams a short distance away, in the company of two gentlemen. Detaching himself from them, he came to join her.
‘I wondered if I might find you here, Miss Bennet,’ said he, extending his greetings to Mr Gardiner and his progeny. ‘This is quite a sight, is it not? We had to come and see for ourselves.’
They conversed for a few minutes and then heard, rather than saw, that the elephant had successfully reached Southwark. Mr Gardiner had no further wish to stay by the river and they made to return home – but not before Adams had sought permission to call on Miss Bennet within a day or two.
Although Kitty had said nothing of her feelings to Aunt Gardiner, that lady, sensible to the lack of any maternal influence on her niece, took it upon herself to raise the matter of Henry Adams. This happened shortly after Kitty’s return that day.
‘I think you are fond of this young man,’ she began, gently.
Kitty coloured. ‘There is no arrangement between us, Aunt, although…’
‘Although?’
‘Although,’ said Kitty, drawing a deep breath, ‘even though the words have not been spoken aloud, there is an attachment between us. We both feel it. But Mr Adams is an honourable man, and he has not said or done anything that is wrong or improper.’
‘I do not doubt it,’ said Mrs Gardiner, reassuring Kitty with a smile. ‘There is a happy integrity to his character, one that will stand him in good stead now that he has taken orders. He seems to have no plans in that regard?’
‘His father encouraged him to take ordination. Not that he has regretted the decision,’ she added quickly, lest any negative mark should be imputed to Mr Adams. ‘When he did so he thought to obtain a good living in the village of Clapham but, as it turned out, he was precipitate in his optimism as it was given elsewhere.’
‘I am sure you are aware,’ said Aunt Gardiner, with a well-meaning firmness in her voice, ‘that such opportunities are very rare and usually given at the whim of those who have the power to bestow them. Mr Adams should not expect another living to appear. If such a thing were to happen, it may be years before such luck befalls him.’
Kitty shifted in her chair. ‘He does not expect such a thing to happen. He wishes it were otherwise.’
‘I would wish that, too,’ replied Mrs Gardiner. ‘I can see that a good living may open up very many opportunities for him but, my dear Kitty, one cannot live on hopes and wishes.’
‘I understand you, Aunt, and I thank you for your concern. Truly I do.’ Kitty paused for a moment, not really wanting to say what she knew she must. Eventually, she said: ‘What you are telling me – what I already know but choose to forget – is that neither of us has any fortune and that this would be an imprudent match, one best forgotten. Is that not so?’
‘I could not advise you otherwise,’ said Mrs Gardiner, ‘but that does not mean I do not understand your distress, my dear.’
So saying, she rose from her chair and went to Kitty, kissing her on the top of her head in the same way she kissed her own daughters. ‘Do not despair,’ said she, as Kitty looked up at her. ‘I do not pretend to see a solution for this particular predicament but you are young, and with your sisters so well married you will find your way in the world. I am sure of it.’ She laughed. ‘I sound a little like your dear mother, do I not!’
Kitty watched her leave the room. She knew her aunt was right; there was nothing more to be said.
CHAPTER 71
Shortly after Mr Bennet left for his daily literary pilgrimage to the museum, a message was delivered at the Gardiners to notify the arrival of the Darcys to Berkeley Square. Elizabeth and Georgiana were therefore expected that day or the next.
Aunt Gardiner had some business to attend to around mid-morning but was confident that it would take but an hour, and so it was left to Kitty to receive any visitors that may call. If she was apprehensive about seeing Elizabeth again that apprehension was mild and tinged with a sort of curious excitement. She felt equal to any conversation with her sister.
Kitty was in the drawing room, immersed in one of the Grandison volumes, when she was informed that Miss Georgiana Darcy was downstairs. ‘Please show her up,’ she instructed, standing and gathering her thoughts. The door opened and Georgiana appeared, venturing just two tentative steps into the room before stopping and looking meekly towards Kitty, trying to gauge her reaction to her presence. If there was an awkward moment, it was very brief. Kitty smiled and opened her arms towards Georgiana, who ran across the room to embrace her with a most unladylike force. Kitty looked to the door to see if Elizabeth was following but Georgiana had arrived alone.
‘I came as quickly as I could,’ said she. ‘I did not want to waste a minute. Please say you forgive me! I thought you might not receive me but I had to find out.’ Kitty nodded, as these sentences, delivered at twice the speed normally deemed appropriate for elegant discourse, were followed by others in praise of Kitty and her gracious, forgiving nature and only stopped by the lady herself who insisted on a moment’s silence and the chance to look properly at her errant friend.
She saw she was as demure and handsome as she ever was; if her heart was fractured there was no outward evidence. Georgiana, for her part, thought how well Kitty looked and within minutes they were seated and the conversation turned to all that had happened since last they had seen each other. Georgiana, still a little nervous and much more unsettled than Kitty, was the more voluble of the two.
As was to be expected, Freddie Fanshawe featured first and heavily in this conversation. Having castigated herself as unpardonably foolish for allowing her preference for Fanshawe to blind her to his faults and then absolving herself of some of this shame by remembering her disgraced suitor’s deceptions, fine manners and covert betrayals, Georgiana gave Kitty her account. She had, despite the concerns that had been aired by the colonel, continued to bestow her affections on the Fanshawe heir. ‘After all,’ said she without much logic, ‘it was a little strange for Colonel Fitzwilliam to raise objections when he was so obviously in love with Felicia!’ Such different siblings, thought Kitty, but did not say so.
‘Of course, I know better now,’ said Georgiana sadly, ‘but during last summer I thought my uncle’s misgivings were more to do with my youth. You said as much yourself,’ she continued, looking at Kitty a little defensively, ‘and I had no reason to suspect such defects in his character. I think my brother and Colonel Fitzwilliam had supposed when the Fanshawes returned to Danson Park at the end of August that everything would be over, but they did not count on Freddie and William riding over when the weather was fine – Felicia as well, sometimes – so I continued to see him into the autumn months. Then he had his accident.’
‘Yes, I heard about that,’ said Kitty. ‘What happened?’
‘He was out riding on the estate and his horse threw him. That is all he said. In any event, he broke his leg very badly and it did not initially heal as the physician expected. Then he developed a fever and was very ill for more than two weeks, but eventually he began to improve. Felicia and my uncle were in regular correspondence of course, so we knew of his progress. Sir Edward postponed his trip to London to be with him, he was most concerned.’
‘It must have been a dreadful reminder to him of his son’s riding accident,’ said Kitty. ‘You remember his youngest boy died after a bad fall from his horse?’
‘I do. It is very sad. At least his son did not disgrace him.’ She fell silent.
‘What did you think would become of your friendship with Mr Fanshawe?’ asked Kitty gently, thinking how ironic it was, given her recent conversation with Aunt Gardiner, that she should now be the one listening and giving advice on matters of mismatch
ed love.
‘I do not really know,’ said Georgiana, looking uncomfortable. ‘He is handsome as well as eligible. Our family backgrounds were similar. I supposed myself in love. I wanted to imagine he was in love with me.’
‘And was he not?’
‘I do not know how gentlemen behave when they are in love! I do not know how gentlemen behave at all, it would seem! I have twice been so very wrong! He was always kind and solicitous to me. I do not know!’ She looked to Kitty, as if she could supply the information she lacked. ‘His parents – well, Lady Fanshawe, I am sure – want him to marry.’
‘I cannot speak for Mr Fanshawe’s feelings but I do not think his affection for you was pretence. Whatever else he has done, I do not think it was his intention to cause you distress, although his actions could not but do otherwise. I think he did not think at all, except of himself. As to Lady Fanshawe’s expectations, Freddie is the eldest son and as such he must marry. You are a most eligible young lady, in every way. Of course she would approve. I like Lady Fanshawe, although I do wonder how well she knows her son. Poor lady, she must be dismayed and disappointed.’
‘He is adept at dissembling,’ said Georgiana, once again looking very sad. ‘I did not know him well either.’
‘You were not the only one he fooled, take some comfort from that. It is easy for gentlemen to hide things from us. We are not privy to so many of the things they do.’
‘I suppose so. My brother says I read too many romance novels. But at least in the novels the villains are always exposed! In life, it is not so easy.’
Kitty laughed, at the same time thinking how like Darcy to disapprove of novels.
‘Have you seen Mr Adams since you have been in London?’ asked Georgiana, suddenly remembering.
‘Do you think him a villain, is that why you ask?’ said Kitty, teasing.
‘No, indeed! I ask because I know very well you like him,’ returned Georgiana.
Kitty could not deny it; she and Georgiana had discussed the charming Mr Adams more than once when she had been at Pemberley, and although Kitty had concentrated on lauding his musical skills rather than his character or person, Georgiana had soon perceived her preference. It was one of their little secrets, albeit one rarely acknowledged.
‘Well?’ prompted Georgiana.
It became Kitty’s turn to unburden her heart, and after some momentary misgivings about the prudence of disclosing what she felt, she gave way and described the recent events, even confiding that she thought he might have declared himself had he now been the incumbent of a rectory in Clapham.
Georgiana was all joy at this news and so Kitty had to explain that, flattering as it was and much as she liked Mr Adams, she had realised that nothing could come of their friendship. She finished this little speech by saying she did not expect to see him again once her father and she had left London.
Unable to avoid it any longer, Georgiana broached the subject of her necklace and what had happened on the evening of the ball.
‘Ah,’ said Kitty, ‘I will tell you what happened. You will be the first to know! Where is your cameo, though? You are not wearing it. Like Sir Edward, I was surprised to learn that its reappearance was not widely known.’
‘The clasp is still broken,’ said Georgiana, ‘and to tell the truth I have not been in a great hurry to have it repaired. We have it with us now, and it will be sent to the jewellers while we are in London, but when my brother gave it back to me and told me…’ she faltered. ‘When he said…’
‘Go on,’ said Kitty, mildly surprised at how calm she felt. ‘I know what you all thought had happened.’
Georgiana blushed. ‘Well, much as I love the cameo, after the ball and… and your departure.’ She hesitated again. ‘After the ball, it became a reminder of things that I preferred to forget.’ She looked down.
‘That I can understand,’ said Kitty, but before she could say more, the door opened to admit a footman bearing Mr Adams’ card. Moments later, the young man himself was allowed entry.
‘Forgive me, I see I am intruding,’ said he, after he had greeted both ladies in turn.
He was assured he was not. Georgiana was so pleased and amazed to see the so recently discussed Mr Adams that she was almost staring. Kitty was forced to catch her eye to make her aware of her blatant astonishment.
‘Miss Bennet and I have been talking of ice-skating,’ said Mr Adams, wonderfully oblivious to the effect he was having on Miss Darcy. ‘I came expressly to ask if you still considered that plan as I have seen skaters on a part of the Thames near London Bridge, where the ice is quite smooth.’
‘Such an adventure!’ declared Kitty. ‘Yes of course I still want to try it, though I admit to a little trepidation!’
‘You are very brave!’ said Georgiana. ‘We are very close to the river here, are we not?’ Is it really frozen over? I should like to see it.’
That was easily arranged. A walk was proposed, agreed on, and only when the three were in the vestibule on the point of departure did Georgiana remember. ‘Elizabeth!’ she exclaimed. ‘I quite forgot to say. She was to have come with me this morning but I was too impatient to wait. I sent the carriage back for her when I arrived so that she could join us.’
‘It is still early for morning calls. Do you know what time we should expect her?’ asked Kitty. Georgiana had no firm answer and was afraid of making the wrong one. While she did not want to appear to be evading or deliberately avoiding Elizabeth, Kitty was in favour of walking out. ‘We will not be above half an hour, I am sure. It is too cold to stay out longer.’ Besides, she reasoned Aunt Gardiner would be back at any moment – Mr Bennet was, of course, poring over old books in Bloomsbury and would not be seen much before dinner. ‘If you will wait a moment, I will leave a message with the housekeeper to inform her that Mrs Darcy may arrive and that we will return shortly.’
She was back within no time. Then there was another small delay while a muff was fetched for Georgiana and once more they prepared to depart. They stepped into the street at exactly the moment the Darcy carriage arrived at the door and Mrs Darcy was handed down. This time Kitty almost stared. Elizabeth seemed to become more elegant, more composed, every time she saw her. On this white-grey morning, Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy was looking superb in black satin trimmed with jet beads, her matching cloak trimmed with black fur. She looked very serious as she alighted, her eyes straight ahead as she made her way to the entrance of the house. Only then did she become aware of movement to her right and looked around to see three people watching and waiting for her.
CHAPTER 72
The informality of the moment served both sisters well, each having anticipated their next encounter with some apprehension and, in Elizabeth’s case, a little dread. Mrs Darcy’s regal demeanour gave way to surprise and Kitty was not a little pleased to be flanked by Georgiana and Mr Adams. Elizabeth, however, was not concerned with formality or her dignity. She moved quickly towards Kitty and embraced her tightly, saying again and again how pleased she was to see her. Georgiana clasped her gloved hands together in delight and Mr Adams was left to wonder if Mrs Darcy and Miss Bennet were always so effusive in their greeting. He found it quite touching and wondered if perhaps he should show more emotion when next he saw his own sister.
Eventually, Elizabeth released Kitty and stood back, once more aware of their company.
‘I think you have not met Mr Adams,’ said Kitty, assuming responsibility for the introductions. ‘Although you may remember me speaking of him. He is the musician and music master to whom I am indebted for my improvement on the pianoforte. Georgiana may have mentioned him to you, also.’
The last sentence was purely for Elizabeth’s benefit. Kitty wanted to make sure that she knew Miss Darcy had received instruction from Mr Adams; she did not want him dismissed as some chance and suspect acquaintance of her own.
‘We are on the point of walking down to the river,’ she continued. ‘Georgiana wishes to see it in its frozen-solid state.
Will you come with us or do you want to see Aunt Gardiner? She will be home any moment and is expecting you. We do not intend to be gone long.’
‘Yes, Elizabeth, do come with us,’ said Georgiana. ‘Do you not want to see it as well?’
Whatever Elizabeth thought of Kitty and Georgiana being escorted along the Thames by a music master she kept entirely to herself. She may have acquiesced to Georgiana’s request because she felt she should chaperone; because she was curious to see the icy river herself; or because she wanted to speak with Kitty without any further delay. Whatever the reason, she did not hesitate. Of course she would go with them.
‘We could take the carriage,’ she suggested, but she was overruled. The others were ready to walk and the only confusion was in how to arrange themselves in pairs. Elizabeth thought to walk alongside Kitty, but as Mr Adams had already offered Miss Bennet his arm, she was left with no choice but to follow with Georgiana. Kitty turned around to see if this arrangement had irked her sister but was rewarded with a warm smile. She smiled back and they walked on.
The frost fair soon took up all their attention and Kitty saw the skating arena that had been cordoned off. They stood and watched the couples already on the ice, all of whom appeared graceful and worryingly proficient to Kitty. It was arranged that she and Mr Adams would venture onto the ice tomorrow morning; the weather looked steady.
It was the second full day of the fair and the attractions had increased. As they wandered along they could see a whole sheep being roasted on a spit under a sign that proclaimed it to be ‘Lapland Mutton’. Makeshift booths had sprung up on the ice, selling beer, rum and other spirits; among the diversions advertised by small, scruffy boys and other hawkers were bear-baiting on the south side, fortune tellers and a roulette wheel. The area between the Blackfriars and London bridges had been nicknamed ‘City Road’ and it was almost as busy a thoroughfare as the Thames was when it admitted waterborne traffic.
What Kitty Did Next Page 32