Second Glances: A Tale of Less Pride and Prejudice Continues (Tales of Less Pride and Prejudice) (17 page)

“You have rendered me a great service, sir, and I owe you my thanks.”

“You are most welcome, Bennet,” he smiled charmingly. “I am a relation of sorts, after all, and share your concerns.”

“Quite true. I will be sure to remind Mr. Darcy of that when we next speak. Will you be joining us at Mrs. Westingham’s?”

“My intention, sir, is to make for London. I should like to alleviate Miss Beaumont’s concerns as soon as possible.”

“Very good. Mr. Beaumont, will you be remaining for the festivities or joining our party? I must say we will have an easier time of it if you come along.”

“Indeed, it is what I most wish to do,” he replied with enthusiasm. “And I should like to send Stacy a letter of thanks by you, Mr. Wickham, if you do not mind,” shaking his rescuer’s hand. “I cannot express my gratitude enough for what you have done, sir,” Lydia rolled her eyes and humphed, “but know you have a sure friend in me, should you ever need one.”

“My pleasure, Beaumont!” beamed Mr. Wickham. “Tell me, to which club do you belong?”

It was not long before a rather more merry party than one might suspect, considering the circumstances that brought them together, arrived at Barsington. Their good humor did them no disservice with their surprised hostess. Mrs. Westingham heard the name Bennet, which she well-recalled, and was all graciousness. Mr. Beaumont required no introduction, as he had been known to her since a boy.

“You catch me surprised, Sir James, but never unprepared,” declared the truly indefatigable lady. “I am surprised to see you here, Mr. Beaumont. Is tonight not Miss Burke’s party?”

He blushed, glancing significantly towards Lydia, “A rather better way to spend my time arose”.

“You see we have had quite an adventure and have much to relate,” Sir James interposed. “Miss Bennet and Mr. Beaumont are newly engaged. See what fun I bring you!”

“A newly engaged couple,” she gloated, beaming at them both. “I must hear all about it! I am not one for gossip, but a fine story I like very well, just like anyone!”

As this was a request with which it was impossible to fully comply, a very much abbreviated retelling, from which several key points were omitted, was all Mrs. Westingham received. “It was not the manner in which I had envisioned bestowing my youngest daughter’s hand,” Mr. Bennet was able to truthfully conclude, “but who am I to deny happiness to two so clearly devoted to each other?”

Suspecting there was more to it, Mrs. Westingham replied, “There is much to your story to tempt my curiosity, Mr. Bennet, but I am not one to pry where eyes are unwanted. We shall pursue another subject. When will the wedding be, Miss Bennet?”

“Just as soon as possible,” Lydia said eagerly, tightening her hold on Mr. Beaumont’s arm.

“Very good!” approved Mrs. Westingham, sensing the bride to be her best avenue to the truth. “I do not believe in long engagements. You must tell me all about it!”

In such a manner did the evening pass, Mrs. Westingham encouraging Lydia to speak of lace and carriages, and Mr. Beaumont to describe the beauties of Freningham, thoughtfully enhanced by her own recollections of the place. She knew the Beaumonts well enough to perceive that it was precisely the match that those concerned would approve, though she couldn’t think much of Miss Lydia herself, just as she never had of the Beaumonts. Earnestly did she wish the elder sister would prove a very different creature. The father was intelligent; it was there she would lay her hopes.

Not until the rest of the party retired did aunt and nephew speak privately, and the account he gave did much to raise her spirits. The confirmation of the Darcy connection sealed her approval on the unknown Catherine Bennet, and she set her notable powers to work in assistance of Sir James’ cause. When told of his rejection, she only laughed, “Just the lady for you, my dear boy! Only your equal could be so foolish! Do not fear – you are traveling with her father, mixing yourself into who knows what sordid business, for I do not think I believed a word of that tale you tried to bamboozle me with earlier,” she wagged a finger at him. “Clearly, you are quite a part of the family. She will come around in time.”

Mrs. Westingham was awake into the night thinking on how to unscramble the tangle in which her nephew was trapped. Confronting Mr. Bennet at the breakfast table the next day, she hatched her plot. “The young couple are so happy together, Mr. Bennet! I left them strolling along the gravel walk – my maid is with them, so have no fear on that score – and they are in a bliss of love. I should like to see Sir James so.”

“Mrs. Westingham, if Sir James has made you privy to his suit for my daughter Kitty’s hand, as I am quite sure he has, he is sure to have also informed you of my feelings on the subject. I should like him for a son-in-law, and I believe my daughter would like him for a husband, if she could but see her way to it. They did meet in a rather unfortunate manner, you know.”

“Yes, and the lady who could keep her wits about her under such circumstances is just the one for my nephew!” she declared definitively. “I have a notion, you know, as to how the thing might be done, if you are interested.”

“Madame, we have not been acquainted long, and I am very grateful for your hospitality, so please do not take it amiss when I say I am intimate with many a female, and know very well that you will reveal your notion to me, whether I be interested in it or not, but as in this instance I am intimately concerned in the matter at hand, let us forgo the preliminaries. What have you in mind?”

Mrs. Westingham laughed, perfectly good-humored. “I think he should follow Miss Bennet to Kent, and that you had better accompany him. Your authority must bolster his cause. They cannot make any progress to reconciliation if they are apart, you know, and my dear friend Lady Catherine is just the one to set all straight.”

“I dare say you are right about Lady Catherine, but what of Lydia and Beaumont? I cannot take them on such an errand, for they would be sure to pose an obstacle.”

“Dear me, no! They must remain here through the holiday. I will enjoy having them, you know. A newly engaged couple is quite pleasant to have in your escort. They convey distinction, and one is never at a loss for conversation.”

“I could send Mrs. Bennet an express, asking her to travel here to remove Lydia from your custody. I had intended to write regardless, but this will at least limit the extent of your imposition. My daughter can be quite taxing, you know.”

“Yes. I had gathered so much,” she said dryly, “but I assure you I am quite up to the task, Mr. Bennet.”

“Very well then! I admit to liking the notion, for I do enjoy dropping in upon Lady Catherine unannounced.”

“You are to Kent, Mr. Bennet?” Sir James inquired, just entering the room.

“We are to Kent, young man. No reason to stop gadding about the country now. I have not had such a time these many years!”

“Are you not concerned about Miss Lydia?”

“Your unknowing aunt has graciously offered to take her off my hands, and my wife will surely be imposing upon the poor lady in just a few days time. Tell me, Sir James, do you think it unfair, now that he cannot escape the connection, to provide young Beaumont with such a vivid image of what his intended is likely to become?”

Sir James flushed. “Do you think she will grow to resemble her mother?” he questioned cautiously.

Mr. Bennet laughed. “Lydia? Most certainly, but have no fears. Kitty will not be such a one. Let us make haste!”

“Do send my best to Lady Catherine! Tell her I expect a long letter full of all her impressions of my nephew’s latest adventure. Darcy never brings her such grief, or such diversion!”

--

On a brilliant April morning the entire Rosings party journeyed in two coaches to Hunsford, there to attend the Easter service. It was a weary Kitty that took her seat in the de Bourgh pew between Georgiana and Mrs. Jennings, having weathered three harrowing days of misery. For the good of the Darcys, she submitted to hearing Lady Catherine’s thoughts on her rejection of a baronet, hoping that she might stem the tide of her displeasure. Never had the great lady, except perhaps in her rector, found someone as totally compliant with her opinion in all things. Miss Bennet readily agreed that rejecting Sir James was a rash and foolhardy thing to do, that if she should ever be so fortunate as to receive a second proposal from him (which is just what she should not expect), she would certainly respond very differently, and that she would live to bitterly regret her ingratitude. Kitty had not known herself to be ungrateful, but so acute was her misery that she readily accepted the charge, adding it to her growing list of sorrows. Unfortunately, Kitty feeling the situation just as she ought did little to relieve Lady Catherine’s chagrin. She would discuss it again and again, and when ready ears were not to be found at Rosings, she called those residing at the parsonage into service.

If Miss Bennet’s rejection of Sir James was a blow to Lady Catherine’s sensibilities, do feel for poor Mr. Collins, whose agony each time he reflected on the many livings Sir James might have in his gift threatened an apoplectic fit. Having few other avenues to vent his spleen, he carried it with him to the pulpit. The familiar themes of Easter were distorted into a lecture on submission and loyalty, particularly the responsibilities of daughters to their families.

Let us note in Kitty’s favor how well she maintained her countenance throughout the past few days. She would like to have spent a great deal more time crying into her pillow than she had allowed herself to do, only indulging in the luxury after performing her role in the evening’s activities and retiring for the night. But as Mr. Collins carried on, becoming more and more explicit in his meaning, she knew she could not endure any more. It was when he came to the following – through what convolutions of theology she knew not – that Kitty was driven to act: “So right the proverb: Man proposes, God disposes! May every daughter fulfill her duty by accepting any advantageous proposals God has been so benevolent as to place before her.”

Hurt, depressed, and plagued by her brother and hostess, the only means Kitty could devise for putting an end to such pointed sentiments was by removing herself – so clearly their object – from the audience. Rising with as much dignity as she could muster, she slid past Mrs. Jennings and out the pew, quickly making her way to the door. Mr. Collins last words – “Let every maiden clothe themselves in the mantle of gratitude and loyalty, for nothing else so well becomes her!” – echoed in her ears as she escaped to the fresh air.

The churchyard was deserted, and though the sun shone through the trees, Kitty thought she had never beheld a more dismal scene. Gazing up where the glittering rays danced with the leaves, the light pricked her eyes, summoning ready tears, and she submitted to all her feelings of hopelessness.

“My dear Kitty! Do not make such a spectacle of yourself!” came the voice of Mrs. Collins.

Kitty turned around to see her ever-stoic sister holding forth a handkerchief encouragingly. Though she had her own, Kitty accepted the offer and dried her eyes. “I do not know what can be the matter with me!” she lamented.

“Do you not? You seemed to feel Mr. Collins’ words just as you ought. I am afraid, dear sister, that this is only the beginning of your repentance. I hope you do not have cause to regret your actions all of your days, but if you do, know I am here to provide whatever solace you may find in the balm of sisterly consolation.”

Kitty stared at Mary in horror, at a complete loss for words to express the extent of her irritation at this little speech. Rather than respond, she dashed off in the direction of Rosings, running directly into the dazzling sunlight.

Sir James and Mr. Bennet travelled swiftly, but no longer having the impetus of a potential elopement to thwart, they did not make the time they had on their way to Bath. Saturday evening found them still several miles shy of Hunsford. Seeing no option but to seek an inn for the night, though it would mean traveling on Sunday, and Easter to boot, they invested their restless energy in trying to make travel-worn attire as presentable as possible. They rose early and rode hard, hoping to make it to Hunsford before the service began.

As they drew closer to their destination, Sir James battled greater doubts in himself than ever before confronted. Was this not precisely the rash and foolhardy course that he and Mr. Bennet had joked about back at Longbourn? How had he allowed himself to be convinced that imposing his presence on Rosings would do anything but further anger Miss Bennet? He could not help but dwell on where Mr. Bennet’s previous advice had landed him. All he could do to relieve this angst was press his horse harder, pulling ahead of his companion in his haste. He slowed as he entered the town, his eyes scanning for the church, when suddenly the vibrant green blur of a familiar redingote burst upon his vision.

Kitty confronted the careening animal, too bewildered by a cacophony of shouts and brays to do anything but stare.

“Miss Bennet!” a longed for voice admonished, breaking her out of her trance. “I always suspected you made a practice of this!”

Coming to herself Kitty scrambled from the road, only then seeking visual confirmation of what she dared not hope was true. Sure enough, there was Sir James Stratton, leaping from his horse to join by her side. He was laughing, and though Kitty’s heart still pounded from her fright and suspense, the urge to join him was too irresistible to deny. “And I charge you with deliberate endangerment!” she beamed up at him, her pleasure evident. “Silly me to think myself safe from you in Kent!”