A Death at Rosings: A Pride & Prejudice Variation (12 page)

“It’s good to see you at dinner,” Elizabeth said to Anne. “And you, Kitty. We’ve missed your talk of meadow dwelling birds.”

Miss Kitty pulled a face. “You know I don’t enjoy reading about birds. I only did so because
Miss de Bourgh insisted. Now she’s making me read about flowers.” She turned worshipful eyes on Anne.

Darcy looked down at the table to hide his amusement.

“Kitty,” Anne said in a gentle voice. “Young ladies do not make faces during dinner, and I agree with your sister. We’re going to send you on walks so that you may see some of the birds and blooms you’ve been reading about. It will help you better appreciate the lesson I’m trying to instill, which is that there is much beauty and interest in the Kentish countryside.”

“Yes, Miss de Bourgh,” Kitty said in dutiful tones. “Will you walk with me?”

“We shall see,” Anne said.

Miss Kitty looked hopeful, but Darcy took Anne’s words to be a refusal. He stole another look at Elizabeth, but she, who normally would have asked him of his day, avoided his eye. She turned to her sister.

“I will walk with you, Kitty,” Elizabeth said. “I would quite enjoy it.”

Darcy cleared his throat, wishing he dared offer to accompany them. Servants brought their first course, saving him from what would likely be an embarrassing request. As he ate, he watched Anne. She didn’t eat much, but she ate some, which was a good sign.

To his right, Mrs. Allen kept up a steady stream of conversation between bites, mostly with Miss Kitty. The silence at his end of the table, between him and Elizabeth, grated on Darcy. He hoped the others would attribute the lack of conversation to not wanting to exclude Anne. Elizabeth and he both made forays into engaging her in conversation, but were rebuffed.

Anne took a very small helping of the second course, almost as if she simply wanted a taste of everything without actually eating it, but there were enough different dishes so that she ate almost a third of a meal. Darcy had more than enough time to observe his cousin’s actions, as Elizabeth didn’t speak to him and avoided his gaze for the remainder of the meal. He ate stoically, wondering if dinner would ever end. Laying down her fork, Anne turned to him.

“I understand Mr. Whitaker has been helping. Perhaps you should invite him for dinner,” she said.

“Of course,” Darcy agreed. He narrowed his eyes at her choice of topic. Did she wish the man to court her? He would be an excellent choice for managing Rosings’ farmland. He wasn’t wealthy, but he seemed a decent, hardworking, helpful gentleman.

Anne turned to Mrs. Allen. “Is the kitchen up to it?”

“Yes, but the meal will be simple.”

“I thought we were near to full staff in the kitchen,” Anne said. “The food was good tonight.”

“Oh, we are,” Mrs. Allen said. “The cook we have is local, however, and not up to your late mother’s fashionable standards. Miss Elizabeth said, and I agree, that there is no need to send to London for a fancy cook and kitchen staff if you are happy with what we have.”

“I prefer it. The food my mother’s cook made was overly rich for everyday. Will our new cook be prepared for the occasional more elaborate meal or rich dish?”

Mrs. Allen looked to Elizabeth.

“Not yet,” Elizabeth said. “She’s very capable, but not accustomed to such a grand kitchen or elaborate access to ingredients and staff. She plans to practice some of the old cook’s recipes, however, and hopes to have enough ready soon.”

“I’m sure Mr. Whitaker will not mind a simple fare,” Darcy said. Not if the man was being given the opportunity to court Anne. He’d be a fool to let a simple meal ruin such a chance.

“See to it, then,” Anne said, rising from the table.

They all stood. “You’re retiring?” Elizabeth asked, looking worried.

“I am tired,” Anne said. Ignoring the bows and curtsies directed at her, she slipped from the room.

“I best go read to her,” Miss Kitty said. “She likes to be read to before she sleeps. Excuse me.”

To Darcy’s surprise, Miss Kitty dropped a curtsy before hurrying away. It was pleasant to see the girl’s manners improving. What wasn’t pleasant was the silence that descended. Darcy wished his manner weren’t quite so refined, for he very much wanted to cut his dinner short too.

The awkwardness between him and Elizabeth was straining, but fortunately didn’t last long. By the following day, she seemed herself once more. He wasn’t deluded into thinking that meant she’d come round to his line of reasoning or that she’d forgiven him. It was obvious she was perfectly willing to contain her displeasure for the sake of comradery. It pained him to think it, for he’d thought she was growing more fond of him, but such ease in ignoring a vehement disagreement with him must mean she didn’t care very much.

Three days later, Mr. Whitaker came to dinner, after an enthusiastic acceptance of Darcy’s offer. Anne joined them before the meal began, seeming stronger but still frail. Although she’d requested the man, as far as Darcy could tell, she hadn’t taken any special care with hair or dress, but that could be due to the inexperience of her maid.

As they entered the dining room, Anne took her place at the head of the table, seating Darcy to her right, as usual, and Mr. Whitaker to her left. Darcy was a bit surprised she hadn’t reverted to a more formal seating arrangement with a guest present, but he wasn’t about to complain. To his pleasure, even though it was a happiness underscored by pain, the addition to their seating arrangement placed Elizabeth beside him. Miss Kitty was seated across from her, on Mr. Whitaker’s left. Knowing his cousin had invited Mr. Whitaker so that she might come to know him better, Darcy felt he’d be free to devote most of his time to speaking with Elizabeth.

“I hear you’ve been of great assistance to Rosings, Mr. Whitaker,” Anne said. “I would give you my thanks.”

Whitaker ducked his head, looking respectably humble in the face of praise. “I was merely conducting myself as any considerate neighbor would.”

“Still, not all were as conscientious as you,” Anne said.

Darcy thought that was an understatement. Most hadn’t helped much at all and no one had done as much as Mr. Whitaker. He’d learned the man bore a familial sense of obligation to Rosings, but his efforts went above even the requirements of that.

“As an outdoorsman, you must greatly esteem the Kent countryside,” Anne said.

“I do,” Whitaker replied. “I know I have my bias, but no other part of our great country can rival the beauty of Kent.”

“I am not much for the out-of-doors myself,” Anne said. “Miss Kitty, however, has been studying the bounty of our fair county.”

“Have you, Miss Kitty?” Mr. Whitaker asked, taking his cue to turn to her.

She looked up from her plate, obviously startled at being addressed. Darcy narrowed his gaze as Mr. Whitaker’s smile widened. He glanced at Elizabeth, who was watching the exchange closely.

“I’ve been reading an awfully great deal about Kent’s birds and flowers,” Miss Kitty said.

“And do you enjoy reading of them?” Whitaker asked.

“Not really,” Miss Kitty said. Her eyes widened the moment the words left her mouth. She set down her spoon. “That is, I prefer to read tales of adventure. Descriptions of plants and birds are a bit . . .” She floundered, shooting a look across the table at Elizabeth. “I suppose it is nice to read what the flowers mean, in case anyone ever brings me any.”

“Yes, it is,” Anne said, intervening. “Not to mention, as we’ve discussed, once you see the things you’ve been reading of, you’ll appreciate better what you’ve learned.”

“But no one ever has time to walk with me,” Miss Kitty said. Her voice was a bit breathless, her eyes still on Mr. Whitaker, who hadn’t turned to Anne.

“I promise to walk with you tomorrow, Kitty,” Elizabeth said.

Whitaker turned a charming smile on Elizabeth. Darcy frowned at the man. Was he there to flirt with every young woman at the table?

“I would be honored to join you both on your walk, if I may?” Whitaker said, his tone full of entreaty.

Taking in the man’s charming smile, Darcy resolved that he would be on that walk as well, and any other walk which included Mr. Whitaker. He was not allowing Elizabeth to throw away her intelligence and beauty on a small landholder in a back corner of Kent. He’d thought he liked the man, but he wasn’t as sure now. Why did Whitaker have to be so damn affable, and look at Elizabeth like a hound begging for its favorite treat?

“And we would be honored to have you, sir,” Elizabeth said, adding to Darcy’s ire.

The meal continued in a like vein, Darcy saying little as Whitaker engaged both Miss Bennets. Later, as they all lingered over the remains of the dinner, he felt a gentle touch on his arm. Looking down, he realized Anne was trying to gain his attention and felt a stab of guilt. Seated beside her, he should have been attempting to entertain his cousin, not hanging on every word of Elizabeth’s conversation with Miss Kitty and Whitaker.

“Don’t glower like that,” Anne said in a low voice. “You’ll scare him off.”

Darcy eyed her. So, she hadn’t wanted Whitaker there for herself. She was playing matchmaker. Well, she could go play it with someone other than Elizabeth.

“Do not interfere in this, Darcy,” Anne said. Her voice was still low, but held more steel than he’d ever heard her employ before. “This is my way of thanking her for her kindness.”

Darcy sat back in his chair. He knew he was still frowning, but he couldn’t help himself. Why shouldn’t Elizabeth come away from her time in Rosings with a match? She must marry. All young women must. Who was he to stand in her way? Whitaker was a worthier gentleman than most.

“Shall we retire to the parlor, ladies?” Anne said, standing.

Her words prompted a polite departure of the ladies, leaving Darcy alone with Whitaker. They headed to a nearby drawing room to take their port. Ignoring strict propriety, Darcy strolled to the window with his, looking out onto the grounds, using the lingering summer daylight to assess the level of care they were being given. He knew he needed to gather his composure before he could exchange pleasantries with the other man.

Unfortunately, Whitaker obviously didn’t realize that. He strolled over to join Darcy at the window. “The grounds look to be in hand again,” he said. He took a sip of his port. “Excellent port.”

Darcy nodded, though he hadn’t yet sampled it. He was sure all of the port his aunt had kept was deserving of the praise.

“About Miss Bennet,” Whitaker said, his tone tentative. “What sort of family is she from?”

“Her father is a small landholder in Hertfordshire,” Darcy said, struggling to keep his tone even. “There is a mother whose family is in trade and three more sisters. The estate is entailed, so they will have little when Mr. Bennet expires.”

“I see, so not much in the way of a dowry,” Whitaker said. “A wife who’s not of the gentry and five daughters to marry off with little to recommend them other than their looks, which I must say seem exceptional from all I’ve seen. Poor fellow.”

Darcy took a sip of his port to keep from speaking the words that sprang to his lips. Elizabeth was worth much more than her small dowry, whatever the sum. He drew in a breath. Of course, Whitaker wasn’t a man of great fortune. He would need to carefully consider what his bride would bring to his household.

“I wonder if she has anyone waiting for her, back in Hertfordshire,” Whitaker said in a quiet voice, as if speaking to himself.

“Not that was apparent when I visited there this past year.”

“No? A sweet faced miss like that, with such an endearing lack of conceit, and no suitors? Hertfordshire must be overfull of women with few gentlemen to spare.”

Darcy nodded, working not to grind his teeth.

“It was endearing, wasn’t it, the way she was so surprised that I turned to speak with her? As if she’s accustomed to being ignored. Of course, with an older sister like Miss Elizabeth, one could see how that would be.”

Whitaker’s words slowly registered.

“Do you suppose they hold to all that nonsense of the elder sisters wedding before the younger? How many of the five are older than Miss Kitty? A man might have to wait some time for four girls to find husbands.”

“Miss Kitty is the second youngest, but I don’t think Mr. Bennet would be particular on that matter. Even if he chose to be, his wife would not allow it.” Darcy felt a lightness in his heart. Elizabeth would still be free. The man was a fool for preferring Miss Kitty, but Darcy thanked providence for it.

“Of course, I daresay at least one of the older sisters might be married soon,” Whitaker said, giving Darcy a meaningful look out of the corner of his eye.

Ah, so the man wasn’t a fool, but perhaps a keen observer. He thought that Darcy had intensions toward Elizabeth. If only that could be true. “We should rejoin the ladies.”

“That we should,” Whitaker said with a friendly smile.

Chapter Twelve

The following day, Mr. Darcy joined Elizabeth and Kitty on their walk with Mr. Whitaker. Elizabeth wanted to still be angry with Mr. Darcy. He was so wrongheaded in some of his views that it was nothing short of infuriating. Yet, if they didn’t address but a few delicate topics, he’d come to be her favorite of companions.

So, as she was resolved not to address said topics on their walk, they spent a very pleasant time following Mr. Whitaker and Kitty about. Mr. Whitaker pointed out various flowers and birds, and Kitty seemed genuinely enthusiastic. Anne would have been more successful, Elizabeth thought, if she’d combined educational books for Kitty with educational walks. The books alone were not enough.

Their walk seemed to set a precedent because after that they walked whenever the weather permitted. Elizabeth quite enjoyed herself, but the frequency and increasing length of their walks drove home that neither she nor Mr. Darcy must truly be needed in Rosings any longer. Not if they had time to spend so frivolously.

Though the walks revealed to her that she might be able to consider her obligation to Anne ended, and she missed her father and Jane, Elizabeth knew she couldn’t leave quite yet. Not when Mr. Whitaker was clearly courting Kitty, who’d never before had a suitor. Though Kitty wouldn’t be alone should Elizabeth leave, she didn’t feel Anne or Mrs. Allen would provide enough in the way of chaperoning. Anne could hardly be stirred from her books, nor Mrs. Allen from the kitchen.

So Elizabeth remained, and knew why she remained. What she didn’t know was why Mr. Darcy did. He undoubtedly had his own affairs waiting. He’d already done more than any cousin could be expected to do and had likely saved Rosings from ruin.

Did she dare hope that he remained simply because of her? She’d come to value his company quite highly. She looked forward to those moments each day when she could see him. In her heart of hearts, she realized she’d come to care, and lamented the fact.

What good could come of caring for Mr. Darcy now? She’s missed the opportunity to be his. There was no conceivable way he would propose a second time. A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish enough to expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the sex, who would not protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman? There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings!

The more walks the four of them took, the more Elizabeth regretted her refusal of Mr. Darcy’s offer. She was coming very close, she realized, to being quite in love with him, something she could not allow. Unable to deny herself the enjoyment of spending time with him, she instead endeavored to harden her heart, keeping her greatest grievance with him always present in the back of her mind; his adamant refusal to tell Bingley what he must be allowed to know about Jane.

She might be failing Jane by not convincing Darcy to speak to Mr. Bingley, but Elizabeth was resolved not to fail Kitty. Therefore, as Mr. Whitaker’s attention to Kitty didn’t seem to be diminishing, she decided she must know more about the man. The next time they walked, she deliberately slowed her pace, falling well behind Mr. Whitaker and Kitty, though still keeping them in sight.

Elizabeth looked up to find Mr. Darcy training a questioning glance her way, obviously noting her abnormal pace and wondering what was behind it. She wet her lips nervously. For all the easy comradery they’d achieved, speaking on matters of the heart with Mr. Darcy still seemed a bit awkward.

“Please tell me about Mr. Whitaker,” she said. There was no point in mincing words. “Why has he been so concerned with Rosings? Was it his original intension to court Miss de Bourgh, do you think?”

He blinked, as if rearranging his thoughts. Did she imagine the disappointment that flickered in his eyes? What had he supposed she’d lingered so far behind the others to speak to him of?

“His father was a good friend of Sir Lewis de Bough,” Mr. Darcy said, his tone even. “Mr. Whitaker the senior died about three years ago.” He gestured toward where Mr. Whitaker and Kitty meandered, nearly out of sight. “This Mr. Whitaker didn’t get along with Lady Catherine.”

Elizabeth resisted snorting at that or commenting that it was understandable.

“There was no real rift, but he didn’t visit. Mr. Whitaker has a nice little property, perhaps fifteen hundred pounds a year,” he added. “He is the only son. His three older sisters are all married and he is the youngest child.”

“What do you know about his character?”

“Nothing bad. He gave Rosings more real help than any of the other neighbors. Lady Catherine was not popular.”

“And since people were denied access to the local heiress, there was no reason to come.”

“True,” Mr. Darcy replied.

Elizabeth looked up the path, where Kitty and Mr. Whitaker had stopped walking and spoke together quietly. “I hope you don’t think I’m gossiping. I mean only to investigate. As her only relative near, I am responsible for Kitty.”

He nodded. “I’m glad your sister has become such good friends with Anne. Lady Catherine didn’t really allow her to have friends.”

“That’s sad. I’ve had Jane and Charlotte.” Jane’s name reminded Elizabeth of Darcy’s role in her favorite sister’s current unhappiness.

By the tightening of his mouth, she guessed that Darcy recognized that. “Mr. Whitaker told me that his father felt his friendship with Sir Lewis made him responsible for Lady Catherine and Anne,” he said, gratefully not addressing the more volatile topic she’d inadvertently raised.

“Do you mean that Mr. Whitaker’s father was responsible or that Mr. Whitaker is responsible?”

“The father first, and after his death the son. He told me that our responsibilities are not always limited to the people we like. He said that Miss de Bourgh didn’t need his help as long as her mother was alive, but he felt an obligation to help her now.”

“He sounds like a good person.”

“I’ve never heard anyone speak ill of him.”

“And you are such a gossip that everyone tells you every scandalous story,” she teased, eliciting a slight smile. She looked away, searching for Kitty and Mr. Whitaker. It was dangerous to be alone with Mr. Darcy when he smiled like that.

“I’ve just been gossiping with you,” he replied in an amused tone.

“Tisk. We’ve already established that I am a concerned relative investigating my sister’s suitor. I daresay you have so little experience with gossip you can’t separate the two.”

“You cannot convince me you have so much.”

“I have four sisters,” Elizabeth said. “It would be impossible for me to avoid it, no matter that I do try.”

“I have but one sister. She’s in as much need of a friend as Anne was before Miss Kitty arrived.”

“Yes, and you said Miss Darcy is enamored of the pianoforte?” Elizabeth said, quickly steering the conversation to a safe topic, for the look he directed at her was oddly intent.

“She is. Georgiana plays well, I am pleased to say."

Mr. Darcy allowed the shift in conversation and they continued their walk in harmony. Later, when they returned to Rosings and bid the gentlemen farewell, Kitty followed Elizabeth to her room. Elizabeth didn’t say anything as they walked the halls. Kitty likely wished to speak of Mr. Whitaker, and that wasn’t a conversation for corridors. Once they were closeted in her room, Elizabeth turned to her sister, only to find Kitty glaring at her.

“I saw you back there making eyes at Mr. Darcy, Lizzy,” Kitty said. “How can you enjoy spending time with that man? You know how he treated Mr. Wickham.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. She hadn’t thought to disclose Mr. Wickham’s lies to Kitty, wanting to shelter her younger sister from the truth. Yet, if Kitty was old enough to be courted, she should no longer be treated as a child. “Mr. Wickham was paid three thousand pounds when he asked to give up the living he’d inherited. He has no complaint against Mr. Darcy.”

“I suppose you learned that from Mr. Darcy.” Kitty’s tone was skeptical, her brows raised.

“Let’s suppose I didn’t learn anything from Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, surprised at Kitty’s reaction. It had become so clear to her that Darcy was by far the better man, she wondered that everyone didn’t see it. “The very first evening I was in Mr. Wickham’s company, he asked me what I thought of Mr. Darcy. I told Mr. Wickham I disliked him.”

“As do I,” Kitty said. “He called you plain and wouldn’t dance with anyone.”

“Yes, but consider this: Once I declared my dislike to Mr. Wickham, he told me all about what Mr. Darcy supposedly did to him. Meanwhile, he said that he could never publically expose Mr. Darcy out of respect for Mr. Darcy’s father. This was after knowing me for less than a day. How was he to know I wouldn’t tell everyone? If he told Mama this, or if I did, the whole county would know it in a week.”

“Yes…” Kitty said, sounding uncertain.

“Mr. Wickham also told me he would not back down from Mr. Darcy, but he didn’t attend the ball at Netherfield. Does that not speak of a man steeped in guilt?”

“Mr. Wickham wanted to avoid a scene,” Kitty protested.

“I think you know that Mr. Darcy would not have created one,” Elizabeth said, holding Kitty’s gaze.

Her sister frowned. “I suppose not. He hardly speaks at all, except to you. He doesn’t seem as if he’d want a whole ballroom full of strangers attending to him.”

“And let us not forget,” Elizabeth said, pressing her advantage. “Mr. Wickham told everyone about his supposed mistreatment after Mr. Darcy left, when it was likely that Mr. Darcy would never be in the neighborhood again, not giving him a chance to know of the slander, let alone refute it.”

“I guess,” Kitty said, looking confused.

“When they first saw each other that day we were walking to Meryton with Mr. Collins, Mr. Darcy turned white and Mr. Wickham turned red. Which one do you think was embarrassed and which one was angry?”

Kitty didn’t respond, her eyes wide and worried looking.

“Wickham started courting Mary King when she inherited ten thousand pounds. He ignored her before that,” Elizabeth said, adding her last, most telling piece of shareable evidence.

“Lydia’s seeing a lot of him,” Kitty blurted out.

That wasn’t good, Elizabeth thought. “Could you write her and tell her about Wickham?”

“She wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try,” Elizabeth prompted, but she knew Kitty was right. Even assuming Lydia wasn’t too headstrong to listen to anyone, she led and Kitty followed. “Thank you for telling me.” She smiled at her sister, trying to ease the worry that now lined her face. “Maybe I’ll write Papa. You should go see Miss de Bourgh and then ready for supper.”

Watching Kitty leave, Elizabeth tried to reassure herself that Wickham would do Lydia little harm since she had no money. She racked her mind for something she could do. She could write their father, but that would likely prove useless, since he would do nothing. Their mother would do less good, possibly even encouraging Lydia. Elizabeth sighed, hoping nothing would come of Kitty’s revelation, but filled with dread nonetheless.