A Private Performance (4 page)

“Georgiana, I have much to learn in the direction of this house.”

“I have never done a thing since I came home from school. Mrs. Reynolds does all.”

“The more reason for me to impose my authority from the beginning. In no time, the servants will have got over their fear, and we shall all get along beautifully.”

P
RIOR TO
E
LIZABETH'S ENGAGEMENT
, the merest mention of Darcy's beautiful home in Derbyshire would have sent Mrs. Bennet into a diatribe. How she detested the man! She could not bear to be reminded of his undeserved advantages! Curiously, her dislike of him melted in the warmth of her joy in her daughter's obtaining a share of said advantages.

She even developed an interest in Pemberley's whereabouts, especially when her two unmarried daughters were invited to spend Christmas there.

Miss Catherine Bennet, known always by her sobriquet of Kitty, was eighteen years of age. Not greatly given to books and contemplation, she had come close to expiring from tedium since her family circle had been reduced by the marriages of three of her sisters. The invitation to Pemberley threw her into ecstasies.

“Gracious, child!” cried her mother. “Not for worlds would I deny you this adventure. Where is Mary? We must go through your clothes.”

However, Miss Bennet, rendered capable of self-sacrifice by her greater maturity at nineteen, shocked them all by declining the kind invitation. Had pride itself not been sinful, Mary may have been able to congratulate herself on being the most selfless of the five Miss Bennets. She declared that she could not consider leaving her parents for the festive season, with only Bingley and Jane to keep them company. As it was, they would miss the company, not of only Elizabeth, but also of Mrs. Bennet's brother, Mr. Gardiner, and his family. They had always spent Christmas together, but the Gardiners were to go to Pemberley too.

Mr. Bennet, when applied to, felt he could face even many a Christmas without Mary; but the young lady could not be swayed from the path of duty.

Kitty had never travelled further than her uncle's house in
London. Her father said he would not trust her to behave herself for three hours without supervision. He insisted upon accompanying her as far as the city, where she stayed a night with her aunt and uncle, before departing with their whole family for the north.

So it came about that, mere weeks after the wedding, Kitty found herself writing on stationery marked with the magical name of “Pemberley”.

While the novelties of gracious living had not yet worn off, by the fourth day Kitty had begun to lament the lack of young gentlemen
at Pemberley. So she was well-pleased to hear that two single gentlemen were expected to dine with them that evening. When they entered the drawing room, Kitty was utterly cast down, for one was fearfully old, the other dreadfully plain, and both were clergymen. Elizabeth had promised absolutely that she liked them very much.

“How could my own sister deceive me so?” she whispered to Georgiana. “One is old, the other ugly.”

Georgiana's hand flew to her mouth. “Hush, Kitty,” she said.

They went into dinner. The girls were seated opposite one another, at the centre of the table. Kitty caught Georgiana's eye and pulled a little face, but Georgiana looked perplexed, then frightened, turning back to listen attentively to the elderly vicar of Lambton. Kitty looked at her aunt. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were deep in conversation with Mr. Darcy, a circumstance she found impossible to understand. Sensing her gaze, Mrs. Gardiner looked up and nodded subtly towards Kitty's dinner partner, the ugly one. ‘What is his name? Oh, yes, Mr. Turner,' thought Kitty. She turned to find that Elizabeth had finished her conversation with him and was speaking to Georgiana and the old vicar. Kitty took a deep breath.

“Mr. Turner,” she said, prettily, “what can you tell me about Kympton?”

“Not a great deal. It is a pleasant little place.”

“Is it as big as Lambton?”

“No, it is a small village. Why do you not tell me something about your home?”

Kitty livened at this interesting change of topic from another to herself.

“Longbourn? The village is the smallest ever seen, and my father's house is as dull as the grave since all my sisters went away.”

Mr. Turner laughed. “And how numerous are your sisters?”

“There are five of us. Jane is the eldest. She is very beautiful, and very good, and very kind.”

“A paragon?”

“Oh, yes, everyone says so. She married in the same ceremony as
Lizzy. Jane is married to Bingley, who is nearly as beautiful and kind and good as she is.”

“Are you recounting a fairy tale, Miss Bennet?”

“It is the absolute truth.”

“So they are perfectly matched? Who is next in the list?”

“Lizzy, who married Mr. Darcy, as you know.”

“Two sisters well-matched.”

“Well-matched, you say? You cannot mean it.” She looked into his grey eyes. She lowered her voice to say, “Unless you mean that Mr. Darcy is so rich.”

He laughed again, and Kitty blushed at her blunder.

He said: “I meant that they seem suited in temperament.”

“Lizzy? Mr. Darcy?” she whispered. “You do say the strangest things.”

“Do I? Who is next in the tale of the princesses of Longbourn?”

“I am, Miss Catherine Bennet,” she said, with an unconsciously flirtatious air. “I shall not tell you anything of myself, lest I shock you with my immodesty.”

He laughed again, and Kitty could not help laughing too, at her own success, although she tried not to.

“Then, there is the youngest of my sisters, Lydia. She was married in August to a lieutenant in the militia, Mr. Wickham. He has now joined the regulars, and they are living very far from home in the north.” She took a sip of watered wine.

“And that is the end of the tale,” she said.

“I think not.”

“Indeed, it is.”

“You told me of Princess Jane, Mrs. Bingley? Then, Princess Elizabeth, now Mrs. Darcy, and Princess Lydia, Mrs. Wickham, and the Fairy Princess Catherine. That is four. What of the mysterious fifth?”

“Oh, I quite forgot Mary,” said Kitty, and added with mock gravity, “Miss Bennet, who is not with us because she feared that Mama and Papa could not survive for three weeks without her care.”

“She sounds thoughtful.”

“Thoughtful? You know her already! Mary never stops thinking, even for a moment.”

The young vicar thought he picked up a flash of mischief in her blue eyes. She seemed about to speak, but changed her mind. Kitty said nothing more on the subject of the missing sister.

Later, Kitty came out on the steps with Elizabeth and Darcy. They watched Mr. Turner's carriage carry their guests away in the moonlight. Elizabeth put her arm around Kitty's waist as they went back indoors.

“You seemed to enjoy talking to Mr. Turner, Kitty.”

“Lord, no, Lizzy. I never met so hideous a man in my life. However, I rather fancy he enjoyed my society.”

“Kitty!”

“Lizzy, why are there no handsome young officers in your circle? This seems a poor sort of district, I must say.”

“I thought our family had its fill of officers, Kitty. Have you learnt nothing from Lydia's experience?”

“What can you mean, Lizzy? And why do you hush me every time I mention our sister's name?”

“I will come to your room, where we can speak in private.”

 

In front of the mirror Kitty sat gazing at herself. She picked up a glass, imagining it a wine glass, put it to her lips and looked over the rim, surveying the effect. Hearing a knock at her door, she put it down hastily. Elizabeth came in and pulled up a chair to sit with her.

“Kitty, dear,” she began, “I wish you to understand why it is so inappropriate for you to speak of Lydia. The whole matter of her marriage is so … awkward. As for Mr. Wickham, he is persona non grata in this house.”

“Person who, Lizzy?”

“His is a name not mentioned at Pemberley.”

“Wickham is our brother-in-law!”

“He has made his own choices in life, Kitty. Mr. Darcy will never receive him at Pemberley and it pains his family to hear that name spoken.”

“Well, I never heard of such pride in all my life.”

Elizabeth looked earnestly at her sister.

“Kitty, do you not understand that when Wickham eloped with Lydia, he never intended to marry her?”

“What can it matter now? It was all hushed up. How well you have married in spite of it.”

Elizabeth paled.

“It pains me to hear you speak so carelessly, Kitty. It is my belief that I should never have married at all, had not Wickham been bribed and coerced into marrying Lydia. No respectable man, with a marriageable sister of his own, will tarnish his family's reputation with such a connection.”

Kitty flounced aside, with the familiar jutting of her little chin and hardening of her mouth. Elizabeth sighed at the work ahead of her to correct the results of her mother's indulgence of her sister.

“When Wickham did not take Lydia to Scotland, she ought to have left him at once and gone to her relations.” She waited a moment but Kitty did not turn back to her. “Kitty, know you not the fate of a woman abandoned by her seducer? She is cut off from all respectable society. If she has no income of her own, she comes to know degradation such as we cannot imagine.”

Kitty spun around, defiant to the last.

“Mama kept saying we were all ruined when they eloped, but Lydia came back to Longbourn in fine form and took precedence over Jane.”

“Oh, yes. After their marriage, they returned unrepentant and unashamed. You know that to demand precedence, even if it is your right, is most impolite. In their circumstances, it was outrageous.” Elizabeth took Kitty's chin and turned her face back to her own.

“Look at me, Kitty!” Kitty raised her big blue eyes to the dark anger of Elizabeth's. “Wickham had to be bribed to marry her and Lydia is too stupid to feel the insult.”

The deepest blush spread over Kitty's face. Elizabeth continued: “While I regard Wickham's actions with abhorrence, think you: what was there in Lydia's behaviour to put such a thought in his evil
head? Her loud pursuit of the officers filled me with shame; and you, Kitty, at times, were not much better.”

Kitty's eyes swam with tears.

“I would not have run away, Lizzy. I never would!”

She burst into loud sobs, and buried her head in her sister's lap.

“Kitty, dearest, do you see that I had to do this? If I seem a hard substitute for Mama, I am sorry. I hope you will not hate me for it.”

“It is you who hates me.”

“Hate you? What nonsense is this? Now dry your eyes. Drink this water. I wish you to enjoy your stay here. There are ways of amusing yourself with grace and discretion. I shall be your teacher.”

 

Kitty made a wondrous recovery from her gloom to write again to her mother.

They came in from holly gathering, glowing with cold and exhilaration. Mrs. Reynolds uttered a soft “ouch” as she took the holly from Elizabeth, who stepped first over the threshold.