Chapter Three

Calling Catherine's newfound understanding of physics imperfect would be extremely generous.

'Mediocre' might be more fitting, or ‘Pitiable'. but Catherine was trying to compliment herself more. The philosophical discussion between Papa and Lizzy about masks and how one separated a facade from the true self might have mostly flown over her head, but some of their points were valid. Why should anyone think highly of Kitty, if she could not think highly of herself?

She had a working understanding of how pieces of a machine fit together, and their individual functions, at least. The next step, as Kitty understood the process, would be to build a working model in miniature. The version she'd attempted with sticks, pebbles and riverbank clay had come together, but crumbled as soon as she tried to make it work. Clearly, a model needed the proper materials, but there was no way Mama would let her near a wood saw. How would she even begin to ask the blacksmith for tiny gears?

Refining the sketches would have to do for now, and perhaps Sir Jasper would have ideas on how to gather the needed components when she saw him again.

There was a chance that the sticks and pebbles would work, if she found a way to properly tie them together, but that would mean putting up with more of the neighbourhood boys taunting her and knocking over her efforts just as she got them positioned correctly. Scolding or shouting at them did nothing but send her into a couching fit, which only drew more mocking laughter.

The Kitty of last year might have shoved them into the creek; too shallow to drown in, but assurance of a wretched afternoon as they walked home and changed clothes. Lydia would have thrown a tantrum and gone crying to Mama. Kitty vaguely remembered one tenant's grown son making a vulgar comment about Jane, some years back, and the charity basket for that family had been much lighter for the next several months, until a particularly harsh winter set in.

But removing a tenant family was not something done lightly. It could be hard for them to find another farm to rent, especially if word spread about why they were removed, and Catherine did not wish to punish an entire family because their sons were fools.

Besides, Lydia was taking her promise of better behaviour seriously, and part of that was spending less time walking, except on their regular excursions to Meryton. She didn't stop Kitty from going, but neither did she inquire what Kitty was doing.

Well, if she did not have a working model yet, at least the design was sound, and Kitty was sure that she had a reason to be proud of herself.

***

The design Kitty came up with was part lever, part device from the Ottomans that she couldn't begin translating, though the diagrams had been clear enough. In theory, one worked the lever like a crossbow handle, and it raised the device by increments, raising the cart it was wedged beneath up until one could remove and replace the wheels, without needing a complicated pulley system to hold it suspended.

In theory. It would need to be placed just right, so that the cart did not topple over entirely, and Catherine did not know enough about such things to be able to tell where that spot would be. If it worked, however, it would be far more portable than the current system the Cartwright used.

Not that the Cartwright was likely to thank her for upsetting the way he did things, even if it did prove to be more efficient.

Kitty wondered if she would ever get to see it come to reality.

***

Catherine had never known her mother to be such a diligent correspondent.

With Lizzy and Lydia both absent and unable to take up as much of Mama's attention as they had, perhaps she needed a new activity to fill her days.

Mrs. Longbottom did, indeed, welcome the new acquaintance, and while Mama did not read all her letters aloud, she did share the parts pertaining to Sir Jasper. But listening to Mama read a letter was very different to reading it yourself. Mama had a very nice reading voice, measured and engaging, but one had to concentrate to determine what was the letter and what was Mama's opinion on it.

"' The Bingleys and youngest Miss Bennet dined with us when they visited Scarborough on the way to Scotland ' - how lovely, I am sure Jane and Lydia will expound upon it when they write to us next - ' They were all quite well when they left us, though Miss Bingley has been most vocal in her displeasure at not receiving an invitation. ' - I wonder if she is aware of how far an apology might convey her, as it did Mrs. Hurst... oh, Mrs. Longbottom agrees with me!"

It was good to hear that Jane and Lydia had arrived safely on the first leg of the Wedding Tour safely. Lydia was an infrequent correspondent at the best of times, and Mama had euphemistically claimed that married women had other things to do than spend all day at the writing desk. What those other things were, no one was willing to elaborate upon, though the Matrons were happy to exchange knowing glances among each other.

Mr. Bingley did have a house in Scarborough; perhaps it had to do with Jane establishing herself as Mistress, as she had at Netherfield?

Mama continued reading, "‘ I believe they plan to remain in Scarborough some days, before continuing up to the Scottish border by way of the Lake District.' - well, at least Jane will know what Lizzy rhapsodises about when she goes with my brother Gardiner later in the year! Someone must, to enlighten the others."

Papa emerged from his book room, listening with interest. "I should have you read the political columns from the newspaper, my dear. You might make them a little less dry."

It certainly sounded like a sincere, if backhanded, compliment, and Mama took it as one. "Oh, you know that I have no head for government, my dear Mr. Bennet, but as you do not like it either, I suppose we can muddle along."

Papa sat down, refilling Mama's teacup and pouring himself one. "Has your new friend anything to say about her sons?"

Mama turned her attention back to the letter, "She anticipates seeing far more of Sir Jasper once the Stud Fair is over. Her younger sons have been making lists about lectures they wish to attend during their visit to London this year. ' Ladies must sit in the upper gallery, so I despair of them meeting anyone there, but I am determined to coax them to at least one Ball, and perhaps the Museums and Art Galleries will provide more opportunities. ' Well, she is right about that, at least. I wonder... London is not so far as Scarborough, and my brother Gardiner did promise some fine fabrics for Mary's trousseau..."

She trailed off in thought, no doubt thinking of ways to convince Papa and Mary that a trip to London was in order, and how to fish out the dates of the Longbottom family's visit. Kitty finished the sketch she had been working on, and rose to add the failed attempts to the fire. "Mama, when you write back, may I include a sketch for Sir Jasper?"

Mama considered it, then nodded. "You may add a few lines to my letter, and Mrs. Longbottom can pass it on if she chooses. It would be quite improper to actually write a letter yourself, but a gentlemen might add a few lines to their sisters' letters, so I see no reason why you cannot do the same."

Catherine folded her sketch carefully, to ensure that there were no smudges. "There are some hours before dinner, Mama, and the post leaves tomorrow. May we write it now?"

Mama sighed, but waved a hand. "Oh, very well, I suppose there is nothing wrong with that. Come along, Kitty, I shall think of something to say to my friend."

Mama sat at the writing desk and dipped her quill, a small, contented smile hovering around her mouth. She smiled like that when writing to Aunt Gardiner or Aunt Phillips, but not when writing to Mrs. Bond, who rarely left her house unless there was a social gathering to attend, or Lady Lucas, or Mrs. Long or any of the other twenty-odd families the Bennet's dined with. Aunts Gardiner and Phillips were Mama's sisters, though.

The other ladies, though they proclaimed themselves dear friends, were at odds as often as not, over whose daughters married best, or at all, or any of a dozen other things. Mama had grown up as one of them, but outranked them as soon as she married Papa... until Sir William was knighted and the Mayor's wife became Lady Lucas. Was it possible that Mama was lonely, amid all the social scuffling? What an odd realisation.

While her camaraderie between Mama and Mrs. Longbottom had undoubtably started as a matchmaking endeavour, perhaps it was a good thing for Mama to have friends that she was not in competition with.