“It is Sir William Lucas,” Mr. Bennet said. “You’ll find his home not more than a half mile from here.”
With that, Darcy bowed and wished them well, departing before Elizabeth’s wit could land a remark.
Jane and Elizabeth found Kitty in the garden. She was sitting on the bench beneath the elm tree, wearing a morning dress. She looked up from the letter she was reading, and, briefly, it seemed as if she hoped another person would appear. A shadow of disappointment crossed her features before transforming into joy.
“Lizzy? Jane?” She shoved the letter into her pocket and rose, her hands fluttering. “You are home! And Mamma and Lydia? Are they well?”
“They are well, but staying in London,” Elizabeth said, her heart sinking as she saw the sheer, brittle intensity in Kitty’s eyes. She sat on the bench and patted the space beside her. “But Kitty, tell me—are you well? You look… troubled.”
“Oh, Lizzy, Jane, I am the happiest girl in the world!” Kitty sat, and Jane settled on her other side. “I have the most wonderful thing to tell you, and you must promise not to tell Papa. Mr. Wickham says we must wait until he has established himself, but he wants to marry me. Can you believe it? He chose me over Lydia, and Lydia left in high dudgeon.”
“Well, that is certainly news,” Jane said. “But if a man wants to marry you, shouldn’t he address Papa first?”
“He cannot, because he needs to secure a respectable position first. Uncle Philips gave him a reference, and he is going to London to be established, and he said—” Kitty’s flush deepened with the innocent happiness of a girl recounting the most important thing that had ever happened to her. “He said I was the prettiest of the Bennet sisters. He said Lydia was too loud, you were too clever, Jane was too perfect, Mary was too serious, and I was just right. Nobody has ever said I was just right.”
“He has been courting you at the Philips house?”
“Every time I visit. He is so attentive. He brings me tea and asks what I think about things, and nobody asks what I think, Lizzy, Jane, you know they do not. And he says that when he has earned enough money, he will speak to Papa, but that takes time, and he had an idea.” Kitty’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “He said that the Consols you gave me, if I could access them, we could go to London together and start a new life, and he would not have to wait years to earn a position.”
Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Jane, reading the same grave concern in her sister’s eyes.
“I need to ask you a question. Did you give him permission to access those funds?”
“I couldn’t do it.” Kitty’s voice dimmed. “He said I should write a letter from Papa, authorizing Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy to transfer the Consols to another solicitor, a friend of his.And then I was to pack a valise and come to London with him, and he would arrange everything, but I could not. I tried, Lizzy. I went to the library door twice when Papa was walking in the garden, and I could not open it. I am not brave like Lydia. He said Lydia would have done it. He said Lydia would have been on the coach to London before anyone noticed, and that Kitty was sweet but too timid. He did not say it unkindly, but he made me feel like I was the sister who is too frightened to do anything—even run away with a handsome man who says I am ‘just right.’”
“Kitty.” Jane reached for her trembling hands. “Where is Wickham now?”
“He left for London a few days ago, right after Mamma announced her lottery winnings. Mamma told everyone she would only bring Lydia because Lydia is the prettiest after Jane and the tallest. She says Lizzy and I are midgets, and oh, that the tall gentlemen would not dance with us. And… he has not written me. He said he would visit Uncle Gardiner himself to help me access my Consols so we can…”
“Kitty, listen to me.” Elizabeth put her hand on her sister’s shaking shoulder. “You did the right thing by not running away with Wickham. He is not what he seems. He has been disgraced at Lincoln’s Inn. The clerkship with Uncle Philips is based on forged documents. He paid for another student to take the exams. He is a man who charms his way into town, fleeces the merchants, and tries to take dowries and fortunes from young ladies. There would have been no elopement, no marriage—only ruin, once he had your signature.”
Kitty’s face blanched, and she crumpled into the sort of small, shuddering grief reserved for the sister least accustomed to being chosen. Elizabeth and Jane held her close, rocking her with the only comfort they could provide.
“I was never alone with him,” Kitty said, between breaths. “Outside of the Philips house, I mean. He wanted me to walkwith him, but I was too scared. And he wanted me to come to his lodgings, but I was too scared. And he wanted me to take Papa’s seal and any documents he could use, but I was too scared. I am always too scared, Lizzy. I am the sister who is too scared to do anything.”
“Kitty.” Elizabeth pulled back and held her sister’s face between her hands, gazing at her with love. “You were too wise. Your instincts told you something was wrong, and you listened. That is the bravest thing any Bennet has done this year, and I include myself in that accounting.”
Kitty looked at her with the wet, uncertain eyes of a girl who had never been called brave by anyone. “You really think I’m brave?”
“You think before you act.” Jane kissed her temple. “And that takes courage. You didn’t allow Wickham to press you against your principles.”
“Yes, and we are so proud of you, sweet Kitty.” Elizabeth, too, kissed her sister, and the three of them sat in the garden while the sun shone on them, and roses budded with promise.
Elizabeth could not rest, even though Kitty’s bravery was a profound relief. She shuddered to think what the outcome would have been had Lydia been the object of Wickham’s attentions. However, Wickham knew that Lydia would have squandered the Consol income on ribbons and dresses. Kitty, however, would have dutifully turned over every shilling to her so-called husband. Providence, it seemed, had granted Kitty a measure of sense—if only her mother had even a tenth of it.
Leaving Jane and Kitty to clipping herbs in the garden, Elizabeth donned a spencer and tied a leather lead to Nettle. Hermother had left debts throughout Meryton, and she could not leave them unanswered.
The town felt smaller, tighter, as if the buildings themselves were leaning in to whisper about her. Nettle trotted at her heels, a tiny, bristling defense against the familiar stares. She walked past the shop windows where she had once idly dreamed of ribbons, and every matron she passed seemed to freeze, their eyes darting to her bonnet, her gloves, her very gait.
She went from an unnotable local girl to a spectacle with a ducal godmother. Everyone greeted her politely and wished her family well. She was gladly received at Mr. Mercer’s shop. His eyes went to her reticule. “Miss Bennet, we heard such marvelous things from London.”
“Yes, you heard correctly, Mr. Mercer. I have, however, come to address my mother’s account.”
“Yes, yes, that is very gracious of you.” The draper hurried to his office and returned with his ledger, showing her the purchases.
Elizabeth counted the coins from her reticule and placed the exact amount on the counter.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Mercer’s voice was oily. “Your mother is a very valued customer. I do look forward to serving her in the future.”
