Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Elizabeth was reclining on the chaise longue in the upstairs parlour, reading the last few pages of her book, when Kitty flounced in and planted herself noisily in the nearest chair. She rested the book face down on her chest and waited to hear what her sister wanted. She knew she would want something; a theatrical entrance was always a precursor to a plaintive request. It was a method Lydia had perfected not long after she first learnt to walk, and which Kitty had not long after adopted.

She did not have to wait long, though her sister's appeal, when it came, made little sense.

"I have decided to come with you tonight."

"Pardon?"

"Do not be funny about it. I promise not to get in your way. But I would like to come."

"What are you talking about? Come where?"

"To the candlelit opening."

" What candlelit opening?" Elizabeth cried, exasperated. "Pray, start talking sense or leave me to finish my book."

Kitty huffed in apparent affront. "I thought you might take a little persuading, but I did not think you would be as unreasonable as this."

Elizabeth swung her legs off the chaise and sat up. "Kitty, I do not know what you are talking about. I am not going anywhere this evening."

"Yes, you are! You are going to the exhibition with Mr Knowles—you told me so yourself!"

Elizabeth let out an incredulous laugh. "I was being facetious! I never want to step foot in that place again as long as I live, and I certainly do not want to go there with Mr Knowles."

"But Aunt Gardiner is going with you. I heard her telling you what she plans to wear when I joined you both at breakfast."

"Aunt Gardiner is going with our uncle to the theatre this evening."

Kitty blinked at her, observably deflated. "Then…you are not going to the exhibition?"

"No."

"But you must!"

"Why?"

"Because I wish to go, and you were my excuse."

Elizabeth snapped her book shut and set it aside. "You had better tell me what is going on."

Kitty glared at her as though she were personally responsible for the downfall of all her schemes and said sullenly, "I am meeting somebody there."

"Who?"

"It does not signify."

Elizabeth took up her book once more and reclined without a word on the chaise longue.

"Oh, very well!" Kitty exclaimed. "I am meeting Sergeant Mulhall."

"When was that arranged?" Elizabeth asked in alarm, sitting up straight again. She listened in astonishment as Kitty admitted to secretly sneaking out to meet the officer not once but twice that week. Her sister betrayed not an ounce of contrition, and by the end of her explanation, Elizabeth was struggling to contain her vexation. It was Brighton all over again, distinguishable from Lydia's misadventure with Wickham only by dint of Kitty not yet having packed her bags and run away!

"I ought to have known something was amiss when you said you were taking the air with Annie yesterday. You hate the air!" When Kitty only rolled her eyes, Elizabeth cried, exasperated, "Have you learnt nothing from Lydia? She ruined her life this way—would you do the same?"

"Sergeant Mulhall is nothing like Wickham."

"No? He is an officer who, without any provocation, has told us lies about an innocent man, and has secretly pursued a lady instead of announcing his intentions openly and honestly to her family. He sounds exactly the same to me!"

"He was going to call, but this thing at the gallery came about first."

"How very convenient," Elizabeth replied with a shake of her head and an incredulous frown.

"It was very inconvenient actually, Lizzy, for I would much rather talk to him here than at the stupid art exhibition where there is only one seat in the entire building. But just at the moment he was asking whether he might call on me, Mr Darcy stormed into the gallery, and we got distracted talking about him instead, because—would you believe—it turns out Mr Darcy was in love with you all along! But, I said that you had always hated him and that you were meeting Mr Knowles at the candlelit event, and Sergeant Mulhall said the candles sounded romantic, and that is when we agreed we would meet there."

Elizabeth held herself very still and tried to extract some sense from Kitty's diatribe, but it was difficult to focus on anything besides the mention of a certain gentleman. "Mr Darcy was there?" she eventually asked, and rather feebly.

"Yes," Kitty replied impatiently. Then she narrowed her eyes. "You have gone very pale. What is it to you that Mr Darcy was there?"

"Nothing." That was accurate—Elizabeth had long ago forfeited the right to claim that Mr Darcy's business was anything to her, but her heart ached with the weight of that truth. "It has just been a long time since we saw him. Do not change the subject. We are talking about Sergeant Mulhall, whom you will not be meeting at the exhibition or anywhere else, for he is clearly trouble, spreading unfounded rumours and encouraging you to defy your family."

"He has not encouraged anything of the sort—he expressed his anticipation to meet you this evening! It is you who is denying him the introduction by refusing to come with me to the exhibition. And as for the supposedly unfounded rumours, you will change your mind when I tell you why he told me Lord Rutherford was a cad."

"I doubt it."

Kitty flashed a self-satisfied smirk at her. "He was following orders. He was instructed to pass on that warning by his commanding officer—Colonel Fitzwilliam."

Elizabeth absolutely started. "What?"

"I thought you would find that interesting. But it gets better. It turns out, the warning was not meant for me—it was meant for you . And guess who asked Colonel Fitzwilliam to warn ‘Miss Bennet' that Lord Rutherford was a cad?"

"Who?" Elizabeth asked, though so breathily that it was more exhalation than question.

"Why, Mr Darcy, of course!"

"That makes no sense, Kitty. Why would he do that?"

"I told you—he is violently in love with you and did not want you to step out with another man."

It was almost amusing how wrong she was. Elizabeth might have laughed if the words she must say next were not so painful to speak. "Mr Darcy does not love me, Kitty."

"He must! Why else would he stick his nose into your business in this officious manner?"

"The answer to that is simple—he would not."

"He would! Do not forget, he has done it before. He warned Mr Bingley against marrying Jane, did he not? And you said he did so because he cared about his friend."

"Yes, that is true." Elizabeth wished her sister would stop.

"And he made Wickham marry Lydia to save her reputation. He takes great pleasure in directing other people's romantic affairs. What makes you think he would not do it again?"

"Because he has no reason to this time."

"Yes, he does—you!"

Elizabeth shook her head, willing her sister to desist. "He does not love me , Kitty."

"How do you know?"

"Because he never came back!" she said sharply—and instantly regretted it. She had never disclosed to Kitty what had transpired between her and Mr Darcy. Only Jane, Aunt Gardiner, and Charlotte knew, and their combined pity was more than torture enough. "I am sorry. I did not mean to snap. Can we just?—"

"Were you expecting him to come back?" Kitty interrupted. Her piercing look from earlier had returned. "Were you hoping he would?"

Elizabeth winced, angry with herself for not being able to think of a pert remark to put her sister off. She was usually quicker witted, but her mind was too full of Mr Darcy and her heart too heavy with sadness to think of anything.

"Lizzy stop being so secretive for once and tell me what is wrong!" her sister said abruptly. "I know you prefer to confide in Jane, but she is not here, so you will have to make do with me. You never know, I might surprise you. I am capable of being sympathetic, you know."

As shocking as this outburst was, Elizabeth could deny none of it. She had kept her dealings with Mr Darcy secret from almost everybody, and she had assumed Kitty would not be of any comfort to her.

"I prefer to think of myself as private rather than secretive," she said with chagrin. "But very well, I suppose there is no harm in you knowing. It is true that he did love me, once. Indeed, he asked me to marry him, but I was foolish enough to say no, for I did not know him then as I do now. But we had more dealings with each other in Derbyshire than I let on, and I had thought, at one point, that he had…that we might…that?—"

"Upon my word, you love him, too."

Elizabeth shrugged; she had no wish to deny it. "But it was not to be. I made too many mistakes—as did Lydia. I dearly hoped he would come back, but I was not surprised when he did not. Marrying so far beneath him to a woman with no money and four sisters would always have presented a difficulty. But add to that having Wickham as a brother and…well, sometimes love is simply not enough."

"Oh Lizzy, you poor thing! I am sorry."

Elizabeth dropped her gaze to her lap, not wishing to witness her sister's pity. She whipped her head up again when Kitty continued, "I do not understand it, for he is so high in the instep 'tis a wonder he can walk straight, but I am sorry."

"How comforting," she said drily.

"I would not be so sure he does not still love you, though. After all, he did try to keep you away from Lord Rutherford."

"Please let the matter drop. He does not love me, and my heart will never mend if I am constantly reminded of it."

"No, of course. Do you know what would help it to mend?"

"What?"

"Going to the British Institution this evening and meeting Mr Knowles."

Elizabeth threw her hands in the air. Her sister was incorrigible. "Absolutely not! His being there is precisely the reason I will not accompany you. Did you not just hear me say that I am in love with Mr Darcy? What could possibly make you think that I want to encourage a different man?"

"Oh, fie! Then I shall take Annie."

"Halfway across London after dark? I think not. She is only sixteen. I am sorry, Kitty, but your Sergeant Mulhall will have to be disappointed. You are not going and that is final."

"But Lizzy?—"

"If you insist on pushing the matter, I shall inform Uncle Gardiner what you have been up to, and he will forbid you from going anywhere for the next month!"

She had not intended to be unkind but being forced to divulge her deeply held anguish, only for it to be casually overlooked in favour of her sister's schemes made her angry, and the words tumbled out before she could stop them. Kitty turned red and filled her lungs in readiness to vent her outrage, but before the invective could begin, Elizabeth stood up and flounced out of the room with even greater theatre than that with which her sister had flounced in. She forgot her book and was obliged to relinquish all imminent hope of finishing it.

Good , she thought bitterly. She was in no mood for happy endings when her own story remained so dismally incomplete.