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“I daresay.”
“I hear your disbelief, but he does. He does! He will prove it. You will see.”
“That alarms me,” Lizzy replied. “Kitty, dearest, you can see, can you not, the imprudence of falling in with a man who cannot provide for a wife or children, who cannot give the slightest security—”
“Because of Mr Darcy!”
Lizzy swallowed her indignation and resentment; it was more important to try to reach her sister. “Very well. Let us suppose there is some truth in his complaint. How does it help Wickham if there is? I asked him to his face if he had any legal recourse. He admitted he does not. The law will not help him regain what he has lost, however he lost it. At the end of the day, he is still poor. And now, he pursues Miss King, hoping to marry her and her ten thousand. You can see this, can you not? He hopes for another woman’s fortune. Is this your wish, for yourself or for Lydia? To be the woman he supposedly loves whilst he pursues comfort and ease with another?”
Kitty bit her lip. “He is very handsome. I am certain he would not be so false.”
Lizzy’s patience slipped. “He is a monster with pretty manners, Kitty. Please, you cannot believe that beauty is any sort of distinguishing sign of good character and intelligence. You might as well call Miss Bingley a wit.”
Kitty appeared shocked but then managed a little smile.
Lizzy tried the last weapon in her arsenal. “And now, we have an uncle, an uncle we were unacquainted with until recently. Do you suppose he knows of no respectable young gentlemen?”
In that moment, she surrendered her pride. Uncle had said she was owed something for her care of Mr Darcy. She would ask him to have Mr Darcy help her younger sisters with the addition of something to their portion, to help them achieve a different life than the desperation—for it was nothing less—leading Lydia to consider a false love like Wickham’s. Uncle would know some way to get around her stubborn father. She was sure of it.
“Papa says Uncle Gardiner is so far beneath us as to be a worm, an elbow-rubbing cit,” Kitty replied, albeit a bit uncertainly.
Lizzy closed her eyes, praying for forbearance. “Dear sister, he is our mother’s brother. As our mother is, so is he, and so are we.”
“My father is a gentleman!”
“A gentleman who has not saved a penny for your future or Lydia’s. Is his neglect a point to his honour? How can we boast of such a father?”
“Well, he is not yours to boast,” Kitty snapped.
It was a slap, a direct hit, unlike any she had ever sustained. Some unspoken sort of loyalty, loyalty to their mother, loyalty to Lizzy, had hitherto forbidden any such verbal accusations. She coloured and was silent.
“I am sorry!” Kitty blurted. “I did not mean it. I should not have said it. But Lydia will get Mr Wickham’s love, she will! Her scheme…or rather…well, she cannot be so pretty for nothing. That is all! You should not be so cruel to him!”
The temptation to quit the room and leave her younger sisters to their fates was nearly overwhelming. Yet, Lizzy could not easily accept that Wickham was to be allowed unfettered access to ruin them, while every single person in their family circle looked the other way. She must try for a different outcome.
“Kitty…what scheme does Lydia mean to employ to ‘get’ Mr Wickham’s love?”
Her sister retreated into silence.
“If you know of any plans Lydia has made with Wickham, you must tell me. You have insulted me in the most hurtful manner by scorning my birth. Can you imagine how it will feel for you to be on the receiving end of those sorts of accusations? If it becomes known that Lydia is indiscriminate with him, if she ruins herself, do you suppose you will not be tarred with the same brush? For he will not marry her, not for a penny less than Miss King’s ten thousand. Do you believe Papa has enough money put by to pay him to do it?”
“He…might,” she replied hesitantly.
“No. Do not delude yourself on that point. You know he has not. You know it.”
“No one will discover it,” she hedged.
“And if Lydia becomes with child?”
There was a long silence while Kitty looked at her feet, at the ceiling, anywhere but at Lizzy. “I know nothing. It is unkind of you to suspect her of such things!” But her voice was pitched unnaturally high; she was no great liar.
Lizzy cupped Kitty’s face, forcing her sister to meet her gaze. “Do you suppose your father will forgive you, ever, for concealing the truth, should she be ruined? Do you suppose you will not be blamed?”
There was a longer silence, but at last, Kitty’s shoulders slumped. “She will hate me forever if I tell,” she whimpered.
She sighed and dropped her hands; shadowing Lydia was Kitty’s life’s work. “I know it is painful to consider.” Lizzy allowed the sympathy she felt for Kitty’s predicament to infuse her words. “Sometimes, if you truly love a person with your whole heart, what is best for them and what is best for you are not the same. You must make a choice. Whom do you love the most—yourself, and keeping the comfort of affection, or a most beloved sister?”
Tears again dripped down Kitty’s face; finally, she said in a very small voice, “They plan to sneak away during the ball. It will be a crush, and no one will miss them. They will go to that old woodsman’s cottage, the one where once you thought to hide. It is less than a mile, an easy walk under a full moon.”
