The Trouble with Mr. Darcy

away although still affectionately clasping Kitty’s shoulders.

“Faster than you, Miss Darcy. If I was not so anxious to gossip and be a silly girl for one night I may have snuck out to see my handsome fiance!”

“In your bedclothes? How utterly shocking and improper, Miss Bennet. Fortunate that he is out with the men presently so you could not act upon your scandalous inclinations.”

If only you knew, Kitty thought, laughing gaily at Georgiana’s tease. The two linked arms and walked to the sofa before the fire. “It was only a momentary thought. I am not so shameless as to risk Mr. Darcy’s censure or my fiance’s displeasure,” she said nonchalantly.

“I rather doubt your fiance would be displeased to see his beloved in her bedclothes. Quite the opposite sentiment is more likely the case.”

“My! Listen to who speaks of intimate sentiments!”

“It is the natural way of such things. Although hopefully your trousseau consists of nightwear a bit more stylish than that,” she indicated Kitty’s robe of thickly quilted velvet with a high collared and plain cotton gown worn underneath.

“Oh my, yes! Mama nearly fainted when seeing the pretty, lacy slips Lizzy gifted me. I daresay I never would have braved purchasing such garments. Yes indeed, even I blushed and demurred!” Kitty asserted at the unbelieving expression on Georgiana’s face.

“It might, therefore, be wise to don the nightgowns for a few nights before your honeymoon so you will not be too uncomfortable with your new husband.”

“I have taken your wise advice ere you rendered it, dear Georgiana. I too pray that prior application will benefit. And as to being uncomfortable in regards to new husbands, my experienced sister has been preparing me. Her advice is far better than Mama has given, I am relieved to say.”

“Well, this is profitable information. I will know who to ask when time to acquire my wedding trousseau and prepare for a wedding night.”

“Oh really? So tell me, Georgie, who is he?”

“Who is who?” Georgiana calmly bent to pour tea into two cups, only the faintest smile and rosy cheeks belying her aloofness.

“Some gorgeous Italian, I imagine,” Kitty went on dreamily. “Or perhaps a Frenchman with dark eyes and a poetic accent. I shall divine the truth in time!”

“You are ridiculous, but I have missed you terribly despite your penchant for over dramatics. I can assure there is not a single Italian or Frenchman to tell you of.” She handed the cup to Kitty with a sincere smile. “Two spoons of sugar and a spot of cream as you like it.”

“Oh, Georgiana! It has been far too long! We have so much to catch up on and so little time before I shall be parted from you.”

“And so happily parted that you will undoubtedly not think upon me for weeks. Or at least I would hope your mind consumed with pleasanter thoughts.” Again that impish lilt that had Kitty searching her friend’s face in wonder, but Georgiana continued before Kitty could inquire. “That is why I invited you to stay with me here at Netherfield. Not for clandestine engagements with fiances, no matter how handsome. I shall be watching you, Miss Bennet, so control your impulses!” She sternly shook her finger at Kitty, who pretended to bite the digit, bringing on a fresh case of giggles. “You must share all that I missed. Letters, even those as diligent and comprehensive as yours, do not tell all.”

“My letters must have been painfully dull compared to your adventures, more than half of which I am sure you never enlightened me of.”

“Absolutely not! Letters from home staved off my homesickness, which did threaten to overwhelm at times no matter what adventures I was having.”

“Ah, to see such exotic places as Paris and Rome.” Kitty sighed.

“You will travel far and wide in due time, Kitty. Major General Artois is a man of the world and financially prosperous. He will delight in squiring his beautiful bride to military galas at every capitol of the world.”

“When he is not engaged in armed battle or getting himself wounded, you mean.”

Georgiana clasped her friend’s hand, squeezing to comfort. “Was it so horrible? When he was injured and beyond your reach and knowledge? I knew you kept it light for my sake, which you should not have, but I could discern your distress within the lines and words.”

Kitty shook her head, smiling slightly to offset the threatening tears. “He made light of it so I endeavored to do the same. And of course he is now as hale as can be.” Then she released a short laugh, meeting Georgiana’s gaze and speaking with her typical humor. “Is it not the height of irony that after years of swooning and dreaming of soldiers in their smart red coats, imagining the life as an officer’s wife one of honor and dazzle, that I never thought about what a military man actually does for a living? And now I have secured an officer, much to my mother’s endless verbal delight, and I am terrified amid the exalting happiness!”

“Life definitely has a way of surprising us, I will concur.”

“There it is again! That inflection of something more behind your careful words. Georgiana Darcy, you must spill all!”

“Well, if all is on the agenda for tonight perhaps we should call for more tea and cakes and get started posthaste!” Georgiana laughed giddily, every trace of reserve erased. “Very well, you have gleaned my hidden secret thoroughly for one who has not seen me in months. I had no idea I was so transparent! Although Lizzy was peering at me strangely, so I must conclude that love is indeed visible upon the skin as the poets declare.”

“Aha! I knew it! Who is he? Where is he now? And does he have a most marvelous accent and speak phrases of love in mellifluous French?”

“Stop! One question at a time! Our discussions must have order or we will merely be talking one upon the other. My story of romance needs to wait until Lizzy arrives. No sense repeating it all twice. You tell me more of your courtship with the dashing Major General.”

“But that is unfair! You know of my romance and yet I am to die of curiosity waiting for Lizzy?”

“Patience is a virtue,” Georgiana piously intoned. “However, I would not wish for my dear friend to die. That would be most discourteous of me. So here, I shall give you a name and you must content yourself with that.” She paused, dramatic flair always a subtle Darcy trait, then spoke with the rich tones of one violently in love, “Mr. Sebastian Butler.”

Kitty gasped. “The composer! Truly? But I thought he was merely a friend? You were so specific. Oh my! This is a tale indeed! How did you…?”

“A hint only, I promised, to prevent your perishing!” She laughed, clasping onto Kitty’s hand, her smile radiant. “It is a fabulous tale, Kitty, and I shall do it justice. But first, you. We must somehow manage to cover the past months apart before dawn. Major General Artois would be most vexed with me if his bride approached the altar with purple circles under her eyes from lack of sufficient sleep!”

“If I must sit in suspense I shall, Miss Darcy. But so you know, it is torturing me!”

“Your pain will diminish as you wax eloquent about your true love. Go on. When I left for Europe you were deeply in love, we all knew it, except for you, foolish girl. Tell me of his letters. I wish for details!”

And with a great deal of giggling and exclamations, Kitty told of her strange reluctance to trust a man who, by all outward appearances, was wonderful. She read a few of his letters aloud, having brought them to Netherfield for just this purpose. She told of how her heart gradually opened while he was away, finally admitting to the fullness of her love when the message arrived saying he had been wounded. The agony of waiting, of not knowing, was terrible, but it had served to strengthen her resolve and secure her heart.

“What a difference just a year makes,” she said introspectively. “When Mr. Falke abandoned me I thought the pain more than possible for a heart to bear. My affections for Mr. Falke were real, I know that. I may be fickle to a degree, but not so nonsensical as to fabricate emotions where none exist. Certainly I never experienced an attachment to a man before him. Yet I can now comprehend the variance in my emotions between the two. The heartache and vision of Mr. Falke’s face are detached, whereas my Randall is firmly entrenched.”

“My dearest Kitty, dare I say how altered you are from the girl I met three years ago without offending?” Georgiana spoke with tones of warmth and pride, Kitty blushing at the recollection of how frivolously she once approached life. Lydia’s influence greatly attributed to her shallow attitude, as the stabilizing influence of Georgiana