Kitty glowed with his compliment. “I’ll be only a minute.” She gave a quick curtsy and disappeared into the servants’ hall leading to her room. She had pleased him; she’d made Thorne Winkler happy with her actions.
A quarter hour later, Winkler lifted her to the sleigh and draped a blanket across Kitty’s lap. “Stay warm,” he instructed as he climbed up beside her. Jarvis and Mr. Foxmour climbed onto the back as the groomsman gave the horses a touch of the whip to start them along the path to the hedgerows.
Winkler moved closer to shield Kitty from the wind. “Thank you,” he whispered. “This will mean much to the Foxmours. You truly do them an honor.”
“I’m not certain how much assistance I might be. I’ve never tended someone who is near death,” she said tentatively. “I pray I’ll not disappoint.”
“You could never disappoint, Miss Catherine.” He slid his hand under the blanket and touched the skin exposed above her glove. Automatically, Kitty placed her hand into his. Even through the leather covering their entwined fingers, warmth spread up her arm in a familiar manner.
“Mr. Darcy and I shall depart on the morrow,” Elizabeth explained as she helped adjust the baby in Mrs. Joseph’s arms. Without a wet nurse, the woman fed the child at her breast.
Mary’s eyes remained on her son, but she nodded her understanding. “Matthew and I shall be sorry to see you go.”
Elizabeth laughed lightly. “You’ll have the room to yourselves.”
“Yet, it shan’t be the same. You’ve quickly become one of my dearest friends; I’ll grieve for the lack of your company.”
Elizabeth smiled broadly. “It’s been something of an adventure. A story to tell our children and grandchildren — of our Christmas in Harrogate.”
“You should know that Matthew and I have chosen to name our son
“Oh, yes, Mary. It’ll please Fitzwilliam greatly.” Elizabeth’s brilliant smile grew.
Mary said impishly, “We considered Mr. Darcy’s full name, but we thought that you would be choosing
“You may be correct,” Elizabeth declared fondly.
“It’s a grand name,” Mary insisted. “For a man of great consequence.”
“For a man of honor,” Elizabeth corrected.
“I have it!” Edward nearly shouted as he and Georgiana competed against Bingley and Jane. “The answer is the letter ‘L.’”
Jane laughed infectiously. “I thought we had you that time, Colonel.” Through a process of elimination, only those two couples remained in the game. The others had clustered their chairs in a large circle to cheer on the duos.
“That was quite clever, Mrs. Bingley,” Georgiana declared. “You riddle dark, disclose my name. No doubt you will descry it. Or dillydally about the centre until I deliver.”
“I thought it the letter ‘D,’” Mr. Grange said, “but that was too obvious.”
“Too obvious indeed,” Mr. Bennet said from where he observed the goings-on. Mrs. Bennet, the Collinses, Lady Catherine, Mrs. Jenkinson, and Mrs. Annesley had retired some time earlier. He had promised to keep an eye on the couples and to wait for Kitty’s return. Although his wife hadn’t understood why he had allowed Kitty to accompany the clergyman, Mr. Bennet had convinced her that if Kitty proved useful that Elizabeth’s husband might sponsor Kitty as Miss Darcy’s companion during the Season.
Mr. Bennet despised his wife’s manipulations in these matters, especially where Mr. Manneville was concerned. The man was too mature, too diligent toward his own agenda, too sophisticated in an uncivilized manner, too American for his daughter. He wanted Kitty safe and well settled. If he had done his duty in that respect with Lydia, he wouldn’t have been indebted to Mr. Darcy for whatever of honor or credit was purchased for his youngest daughter. The satisfaction of prevailing on one the most worthless men in Great Britain, in the form of Mr. Wickham, to be Lydia’s husband might then have rested in its proper place. After Lydia’s folly, Mr. Bennet had at last learned to be cautious. So, tonight he’d encouraged Kitty’s association with Mr. Winkler.
The young man had approached him regarding his growing affections for Kitty and had spoken of his desire for Kitty to serve by his side. “This will be a good test of Kitty’s mettle,” he had told himself. “Kitty will decide tonight how she truly feels about the man.”
“This be Mrs. Darcy’s sister,” Mr. Foxmour explained to his wife. “And ye know Mr. Winkler.”
“Please come in.” Mrs. Foxmour ushered them forward. Even Jarvis and the groomsman received a hearty welcome.
Mr.Winkler helped Kitty with her cloak. “Miss Catherine came to assist with the children,” he said.
“That be wonderful, Miss.” Mrs. Foxmour guided them closer to the fire.
“I brought some paper and crayons,” Kitty gushed.
“A real treat,” Mr. Foxmour said.
Mr.Winkler placed the basket on a nearby table.“And the Darcys sent over this offering.”
The thoughtfulness deeply moved Mrs. Foxmour. Tears misted her eyes, and she reached for the handkerchief tucked inside her cuff. “Mr. Darcy be a good master.”
Mr. Winkler took the lady’s hand. “Why do you not take me to see your husband’s mother?”
“This way, Sir.” She gestured to a small room marked by a curtained doorway.
Winkler squeezed Kitty’s hand and followed the woman to where the elder Mrs. Foxmour lay. Kitty glanced around the small cottage. There were but three rooms: the one where she currently stood and two smaller ones. Evidently, the elder Mrs. Foxmour slept in one while the lady’s son and his wife occupied the other. Four rolled mats in the corner spoke of where the children slept. “Well,” Kitty asked a bit tentatively, “would you children care to tell me your names?”
“Mavis,” with real admiration, the tallest of the three girls uttered. Her eyes took in Kitty’s fine dress. “And this be Nell,” she said of the little one tightly holding her hand. The child sucked a dirty thumb clean.
“And your name?” Kitty knelt before a sweet-faced blonde of five or six.
The child confidently raised her chin, but her voice still trembled. “Tavia.”
Kitty stroked the girl’s hair. “As I said, I brought paper so we might draw together. You could draw a picture for your grandmother if you like.”
Mr. Foxmour picked up the boy. “Let’s move the table closer to the fire to keep ye ladies warmer. I be puttin’ the wee one to bed in the missus’ room. Then I’ll fetch in more wood.”
Jarvis easily moved the table, and Kitty settled on a bench with Tavia beside her. The other two girls sat across from her. She handed each child a sheet of paper. “Have you ever drawn a picture before?”
“No, Miss Catherine,” Mavis remained the spokesperson for the group. “We draw in the dirt sometimes.”
Kitty had never felt rich. In fact, she often had bemoaned the Bennets’ lack of funds when she and Lydia had wanted to buy every ribbon and feather in Meryton, but these children had never experienced drawing with crayons on paper. “Well, we’ll remedy that right away,” she said happily. “I thought I might draw a house with a garden and a sun. What about you?”
“I don’t know,” Mavis said unsurely. “What can I draw?”
“Whatever your heart wishes. Have you ever dreamed of a knight or a princess or of Robin of Locksley or Moses from the Bible? Whatever story or dream you’ve concocted can become your picture. I like to draw dresses
