Page 22 of It Taught Me to Hope

K itty, as her sisters called her, or Mrs. Catherine Westbrook as she was known to the denizens of her home with her husband Martin, was unchanged from the girl she had been at seventeen. When Elizabeth considered her second-youngest sister, she had always seen a girl dominated by her more forceful younger sibling, one who allowed the winds created by others’ movement in the world to draw her along in its eddies. That was not all true, of course, for Kitty had her own ideas and desires, enough to argue and even fight with Lydia when she did not agree or grew tired of Lydia’s antics.

Now she was almost indistinguishable from that young woman, in her features which, at three and twenty were still smooth and youthful, her face unlined by the cares of the world, and in her character which still followed while others led. In Kitty’s case, of course, the leader was her husband, who it appeared knew how to manage his wife’s still high spirits, guiding her to the proper behavior that had often eluded her as a girl. Elizabeth had always liked Martin very well, for he was a sober man, yet one who had a softer side as evidenced every time he looked at his young wife. Martin was over thirty, bringing experience and stability to Kitty’s life, who adored him as much as he did her. The estate on which they lived was not large, for it was smaller even than Longbourn, but it was clear they did not concern themselves with wealth and standing. Martin was a conscientious man who had already taken thought for the support of his wife and had money invested under their Uncle Gardiner’s care. In this he was unlike her father’s more lackadaisical style; he also had one advantage her father had not possessed—his estate was not entailed, not that it would have mattered as Kitty had already given him two sons and a daughter.

That was one area in which her husband did not need to guide her, for though it had been a surprise to her sisters, Kitty was an excellent mother who doted on her children. The Martins’ position in life did not allow them untold hordes of servants, and while Kitty had a maid who helped with the children, she did not have a nurse to take their care from her shoulders. This did not daunt Kitty, who reared her children herself and was often engaged in singing them lullabies or playing with them as if she were still a child herself.

It was a truth acknowledged by her sisters that Mrs. Catherine Westbrook was a much more tolerable woman than Miss Kitty Bennet had been, because of her marriage and her separation from Lydia, regardless of how much pain that separation had occasioned. Such was Kitty’s improvement that the visit of the Westbrooks was a source of anticipation. It had been several years since all four remaining Bennet sisters had gathered, and while this instance came about because of the death of Jane’s husband, the sisters enjoyed the opportunity to be in each other’s company. This was a point Kitty made the first moment she entered her ancestral home.

“Well, I declare it has been an age since we were all together!”

Kitty then turned to Jane and, sensing the solemnity of the occasion, put her exuberance aside. “I am sorry for your loss, Jane,” said she, enfolding her elder sister in an embrace. “Yet I cannot say that I am unhappy to see you again.”

“As am I to see you,” replied Jane in her quiet manner.

“Perhaps we should make a greater effort to gather in the future,” said Elizabeth, smiling at her younger sister. “In that vein, I would like to invite you all to Longbourn for Christmas. Uncle and Aunt Gardiner will also attend.”

Kitty clapped her hands, her grin stretching wide over her face. “Oh, it will be just like it was before!”

She turned to her husband and in a pleading voice said: “We can attend, can we not, Martin?”

“There should be no impediment,” said Mr. Westbrook, his affection for his wife shining through in his regard.

“Then it is settled,” said Elizabeth. “Come as soon as you wish and stay as long as you may. I hope to convince Uncle and Aunt to stay longer than usual.”

Thereafter, Kitty went above stairs to settle her children in Longbourn’s nursery with the maid she had brought from her home for the purpose, assisted by Elizabeth’s staff. With that complete, and with the presence of Master Hardwick in their midst, Kitty again descended the stairs, and the sisters sat together for some time reminiscing while Mr. Hardwick and Mr. Westbrook stood speaking of their varied duties of estate and parish.

“Now Lizzy,” said Kitty, turning to her when they had resumed their positions in the parlor, “I understand there is some talk of a potential beau for you.”

“Who do you mean, Kitty?” asked Mary, showing a mischievous side of her character that had appeared in only the past few years. “Our Lizzy has received another proposal, you know.”

Kitty peered wide-eyed at Elizabeth. “I do not think this business ever made its way into your letters to me, Lizzy. You are not engaged?”

“Heavens, no!” said Elizabeth, much to Mary’s amusement. “I did not mention the proposal, but I have mentioned my new neighbor, Mr. Mason.”

“Oh, him!” said Kitty with disgust, much to her sisters’ diversion. “I recall making his acquaintance not long after he purchased Netherfield. Even then I thought him an odious man.”

“He has become more odious since,” said Elizabeth.

At Kitty’s insistence, Elizabeth related the tale of the man’s abortive proposal, trying to make light of the occasion. Kitty laughed in all the right places, spoke of her disdain for a man who would treat her elder sister with such patronizing arrogance, and voiced her approval for Elizabeth’s rejection. This, of course, did not prevent her from returning to her original question.

“That is all interesting, Lizzy, but it was my understanding there was a certain wealthy gentleman in Meryton paying attention to you. A gentleman from our past, as I recall.”

“Or so Kitty informed me,” said Mr. Westbrook, inserting himself into the conversation.

“He is far better behaved than Mason,” observed Mr. Hardwick.

The sisters laughed together, and then every expectant eye in the room settled on Elizabeth. Kitty and her husband did not know about Mr. Darcy’s failed proposal in Kent, of course, and Elizabeth did not think that Mary had informed her husband either. This was not a time for long stories, some of which would prove embarrassing for Elizabeth, so she avoided saying anything on the subject, instead settling for a simple answer.

“Mr. Darcy has returned, Kitty, and he seems interested in me. Beyond that, I cannot say, for I cannot predict the future.”

Kitty regarded her as if disappointed in the answer. “If you will pardon me, Lizzy, I have difficulty understanding this business. So far as I recall, Mr. Darcy did not look on you with any less disdain than he did the rest of the community, and more than most considering his comment about you at the first assembly, which you spread with great relish. And yet, now he has returned and is attentive to you when that is the last thing I expected to hear.”

“Yes, Lizzy,” said Mary. Her knowing look suggested she wondered how Elizabeth would respond to Kitty’s observation. “How can you explain Mr. Darcy’s sudden return and his deference toward you?”

Jane covered her mouth and looked away to avoid laughing further; Kitty nodded to Mary and then fixed her scrutiny on Elizabeth again. As it was impossible to avoid the conversation, Elizabeth resolved to respond but left out most of the pertinent points hoping to satisfy her sister.

“If you recall, I met Mr. Darcy in Kent. Mr. Bingley had once suggested that Mr. Darcy was more agreeable in the company of those with whom he felt comfortable. I learned the truth of his assertion in Kent.”

Through widened eyes Kitty regarded her. “I remember something of that!”

“I do not remember speaking of it,” said Elizabeth with a frown.

“No, you did not,” said Kitty, shaking her head. “Lydia complained of it, something Wickham mentioned on the subject.”

“What did he say?”

“Lydia never told me. All I remember is her annoyance with you because Mr. Wickham suggested Mr. Darcy had corrupted you against him. That was the last she said on the subject before going to Brighton.”

It was a possibility that Elizabeth had never considered, the notion that Mr. Wickham preyed on Lydia in retaliation for Elizabeth’s new understanding of him, or perhaps because Mr. Darcy acted to disabuse her of Mr. Wickham’s claims. A moment’s thought, however, restrained Elizabeth’s imagination. While the libertine might be vindictive enough to compromise a young woman in reprisal for the sudden loss of her sister’s esteem, Elizabeth could think of no reason he would target her, considering the... disadvantages of Lydia’s company.

Mr. Wickham, though he had plied her with his story soon after their meeting, had never attempted to do anything immoral with her, and this despite Mr. Darcy’s assertions concerning his behavior with ladies. Why this would be was unknown to Elizabeth, yet she suspected it was because he preferred to target those who lacked perception. Yes, Elizabeth had fallen to his lies without hesitation, but he had to know that was in part because of her pre-existing antipathy toward Mr. Darcy. The man had presented a charming front, but Elizabeth had never been so enamored that she would have allowed him to overstep, even had he turned the fullness of his allure on her. He must have seen that and confined his schemes to others with whom he had more chance of success and those who had more to offer him.

“Why Lydia would be annoyed with me I cannot say,” said Elizabeth, these thoughts flashing through her mind in an instant. “What is it to Lydia if I withdrew my approbation for Mr. Wickham?”

Kitty shrugged. “You know Lydia. Mr. Wickham turned his attention on Mary King, which annoyed her, but as soon as he failed with her, he was again Lydia’s favorite.”

“Yes, I suppose you must be correct.”

“Of course, I am,” was Kitty’s airy reply. “Now, Lizzy, you must tell me everything, for I am eager to learn of Mr. Darcy’s ardor.”

Though Elizabeth laughed, she did not protest, and they spent some time speaking of Elizabeth’s interactions with Mr. Darcy.

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“T HAT LETTER IS FROM Anthony?”

“It is,” said Darcy, distracted by his cousin’s missive. “It appears he has grown fatigued with Aunt Catherine and wishes to gain a little distance.”

“Then he should come here,” said Georgiana. “I should like to see him again.”

Darcy turned away from his letter and nodded to his sister with affection. “It appears you have read his mind, Georgiana, for he requests permission to stay with us for a time.”

“You must write him back and tell him to come at once.” Georgiana grinned and added: “There may not be much to amuse him in this sleepy village, but at least he will escape from our aunt.”

“Ah, but you have forgotten his acquaintance with Miss Bennet.”

“Is that his reason for wishing to visit?”

Georgiana’s thoughts of the plausible reasons for Fitzwilliam’s supposed eagerness to renew his acquaintance with Miss Bennet were plain, and she did not appreciate the implications. Darcy could not prevent the laugh that formed on his lips, drawing his sister’s ire.

“Do not concern yourself, Georgiana,” said Darcy, speaking before she could vent her displeasure. “Fitzwilliam never told me, but I must assume he did not consider Miss Bennet a potential bride because of her relative poverty at the time and his need to marry for wealth. Now that he is independent and wealthy himself, he might consider her, but you know as well as I do, he would never impose himself when I am already courting her.

“Besides, Fitzwilliam knows something of my interest in Miss Bennet.”

Georgiana regarded Darcy, uncertainty creasing her brow. “He does?”

“When we stayed at Rosings, he guessed it and suggested I was a fool if I allowed anything to stand in my way of securing her given my ability to choose without reference to fortune or standing; it was a powerful statement, and one I used to justify offering for her. We have not spoken of it since, but he has made an occasional comment, though oblique. When he learned I intended to return to Hertfordshire, his words were in essence ‘It is about time!’”

“That sounds like something he would say,” chuckled Georgiana.

“Yes, it does. The more diverting aspect of his request is his comments about Aunt Catherine, and this when she does not even live in the same house.”

This time Georgiana’s mirth became a more pronounced giggle. “I beg your pardon, but I doubt anything less than the distance between Rosings and Pemberley would prevent Lady Catherine’s meddling.”

“You are correct. Lady Catherine has only herself to blame that I never considered giving in to her demands to wed Anne.”

Georgiana’s look turned curious. “I thought it was because Anne was not capable of giving you an heir.”

“That was part of it. There were many arguments against it, the most important being that neither Anne nor I wanted it, but Lady Catherine was a substantial part of the calculus.”

“The distance between us and Lady Catherine is not one of my regrets in life.” Georgiana grinned. “I am not so terrified of her as I was as a young girl, but I have no interest in enduring her ways. Let Anthony deal with her.”

“With that opinion, I cannot but agree,” said Darcy.

“When do you suppose Anthony will come to Hertfordshire?”

“Given his complaints,” was Darcy’s wry reply, “at the first available opportunity.”

“Perhaps we may do something special to welcome him when he comes? After all, we have not yet hosted Miss Bennet or any of her family.”

“I would welcome that.”

Georgiana nodded and Darcy knew she was considering how best to go about putting such an invitation to Miss Bennet.

“Can you tell me of this newest Bennet sister who was to arrive today?” said Georgiana changing the subject.

“I never paid much attention to the youngest Bennets.” Darcy considered the younger girls, wondering what he should say about the woman Georgiana would meet on the morrow. “Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty were brash, loud, and unrestrained; I would never have considered introducing you to their acquaintance, and not because they were not of our sphere.”

“I must suppose she has changed since that time.”

Darcy nodded. “I expect she has. Tomorrow we shall see how much.”

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K ITTY WESTbrOOK HAD always been a little intimidated by Charlotte Collins. The reason for it was silly, for Mrs. Collins had always been considerate, often paying more attention to Kitty and her opinions than even her sisters had. Yet, Charlotte had always struck Kitty as a rational sort of woman, quite different from Kitty and her younger sister’s liveliness. Kitty had often struggled to understand Charlotte, though the other woman had taken the time to explain her opinions in terms that Kitty could understand. It was strange, Kitty thought all these years later, that she had never viewed Elizabeth that way, though Lizzy was perhaps the most intelligent person Kitty had ever known. Elizabeth had always been an elder sister, one who was great fun when she was not chastising them for their behavior.

Now, of course, Kitty understood why Lizzy had spoken to them as she had, as Lydia’s disappearance had proven without a shadow of a doubt to what ends such behavior might lead. Lydia’s absence was still painful to Kitty, even six years after her disappearance, for she had been Kitty’s closest sister, even if she now understood something more about the reasons for Lydia’s fall. As her sisters had stepped into the breach and drawn Kitty into their fellowship the event had not been as traumatic as it might have been, and for this, Kitty could not be more grateful. Still, she sometimes wished to see her sister again, if only for a moment to assure herself of Lydia’s happiness.

“You have a full house, Lizzy,” said Charlotte as she visited that morning. Charlotte smiled at Kitty and added: “Especially with your sister’s brood now in residence. Your servants must be at their wits’ end, for you have been alone at Longbourn for several years now, and yet you are now seven souls again.”

Kitty blushed but beamed at Charlotte—somehow, even though she had intimidated Kitty, Charlotte had always known how to put her at ease with a word or a comment in praise. Esteem for Charlotte Collins came easy, though Kitty had eschewed her kind words in favor of having fun with Lydia.

“Seven of us again!” exclaimed Kitty, latching onto that fact. “Our family’s composition is different, but it is like when we were all living at Longbourn with Papa and Mama when we were girls!”

“That it is, Kitty,” said Elizabeth with a smile. “I dare say that Longbourn’s servants can handle us, and you have brought along a maid to look after the children.”

The ladies turned to smile at the children, all five of them with Charlotte’s daughter Jenny, and the slight form of James in their midst, entranced by so many other children about him.

“Jenny is a natural leader, it appears,” observed Mary.

“I suspect her position is due to her age,” said Charlotte. “She is the eldest.”

“Perhaps.”

“It is unfortunate,” sighed Kitty, regarding her beloved children in their play in a corner of the sitting-room. “I always thought my children would play with Lydia’s children. Now I suspect that will never happen.”

Kitty did not miss the exchanged glances between her sisters and their guests. The response fell to Jane, who offered Kitty a sad smile.

“Do not lose hope, Kitty. Though it has been many years since we saw Lydia, there is always a chance that she will return.”

From Mary and Elizabeth’s expressions, Kitty suspected they did not look forward to a reunion with their youngest sibling with any welcome. Kitty understood their opinion, though she could not help but disagree, for the depth of her closeness with Lydia had been difficult to lose, even if Lydia had not always been a model sister. Perhaps their connection had not been as profound as that which existed between Lizzy and Jane, but still, it had been Kitty’s rock for many years.

“It is unfortunate,” said Elizabeth, though she masked her true feelings, despite what Kitty had observed only a moment before. “Of Lydia, Uncle Gardiner and our father could discover nothing—not even so much as a rumor. Where Lydia has been these past years and where she is now, I cannot say, but if she were to return, I suspect she would already be here.”

“Do you suppose she went to the New World?” asked Kitty, considering the possibilities of Lydia’s situation.

“If she did,” replied Elizabeth, “it is doubtful that she went with Mr. Wickham. There is little evidence that Mr. Wickham loved Lydia enough to overlook her lack of the funds he lusted after and marry her, Kitty.”

“Has Mr. Darcy made any mention of Mr. Wickham?” asked Jane.

“Believe me, Jane,” said Elizabeth, “we have spoken of Mr. Wickham at length.”

Kitty could not help the gasp that escaped her lips. “You spoke of Lydia and Mr. Wickham?”

The way Elizabeth eyed her, Kitty knew Elizabeth considered her question silly, and Kitty supposed she was correct.

“You have all commented on Mr. Darcy’s attentions to me, Kitty,” said Elizabeth, her tone kinder than Kitty thought she would use. “There was no way to hide the matter from him—how do you suppose he would react if he discovered the business from another source?”

“Lizzy’s honor requires that she conceal nothing from Mr. Darcy,” said Charlotte, again her gentle remonstration bolstering Kitty’s confidence. “Besides, given Mr. Darcy’s past with Mr. Wickham, your sister could speak with him without fear of his judgment.”

“That is not entirely true,” said Elizabeth, grimacing. “I had some notion that Mr. Darcy would consider me at fault for not making Wickham’s bad conduct known in Meryton after he informed me of it.”

“He told you about Mr. Wickham?” gasped Kitty.

“Yes, he did,” confessed Elizabeth. “I knew of it when I returned from Kent, but I said nothing. As Mr. Wickham was to leave to go to Brighton, I thought there was little reason to speak of it when Mr. Darcy had authorized no dissemination of what I knew. The danger would soon pass with his departure, after all.”

“Lizzy told me of it,” said Jane quietly. “Neither of us could imagine Lydia running off with Mr. Wickham.”

Silence descended over them, each lost in their thoughts. This was much more than Kitty had ever known of the events leading to Lydia’s disappearance. That Lizzy had known of it and not spoken was beyond Kitty’s understanding of her elder sister, for Lizzy was so confident and upright that remaining silent on the matter was unlike her. Or so it seemed to Kitty. Then again, Jane’s explanation made sense, for even if Elizabeth had spread the matter of Mr. Wickham’s conduct, his popularity in the neighborhood might have rendered belief impossible.

“I wonder if Mr. Wickham had something to do with our inability to find Lydia.”

The comment, spoken with no intention of opening her mouth, drew her sisters’ attention.

“It would seem, Kitty,” said Mary, her voice brimming with affection, “that the matter involved Mr. Wickham intimately.”

“Oh, I understand that,” said Kitty, feeling a little flustered. “What I meant was whether Mr. Wickham... did something to Lydia, preventing us from finding her.”

“Kitty,” said Jane, even as her other sisters appeared shocked, “it would be best not to speculate about such things. Mr. Wickham is a wicked man—this we all apprehend. To suppose that he had... done such horrific things to our sister is pure conjecture, and not subjects I believe we should consider.”

“You are correct, of course,” said Kitty, feeling bashful again.

“There was also that report Uncle Gardiner received of Mr. Wickham setting sail for the New World.” Elizabeth smiled at Kitty. “There was no mention of Lydia, it is true, but the report was a vague tale at best. Perhaps you are correct, and Lydia traveled over the sea with Mr. Wickham.”

Kitty smiled and nodded, grateful for this alternate explanation about her sister’s disappearance. Her sisters were correct—there was little reason to consider such dark thoughts and every reason to remember Lydia as she had been. Those memories were, after all, what was precious to Kitty even after six years.

Thereafter, they dropped the subject of Lydia and concentrated on news of their recent doings, and in that conversation, Kitty learned something of Mr. Darcy’s recent return to Elizabeth’s life. There was something her sister had not mentioned, something to do with Mr. Darcy, but Kitty had no notion of what it was. If she were to guess, she suspected Jane knew something of it, which was not at all surprising as they confided everything to each other.

In the end, it did not signify. Kitty did not need to know everything about her sister’s life, and if Lizzy thought it important to tell her, she would. Since Lydia’s disappearance, one blessing was the increased intimacy she shared with her sisters, both before her marriage and now that she had her own home. Kitty had never esteemed them as much as she did now, especially Mary, who Lydia had always decried as uninteresting and dowdy. Kitty knew better. She loved her sisters very much and welcomed this time of greater felicity with them.

Given how Elizabeth spoke of Mr. Darcy, quite different from anything she had shown when he first visited the neighborhood, she suspected Lizzy would fall to the gentleman’s charms, though Kitty could not say what those were. There was nothing to do but congratulate her sister and wish her every happiness. Elizabeth deserved it after these years of solitude.