Mr and Mrs Darcy 02 Suspense & Sensibility (21 page)

At last, they had come to the purpose of Fanny's call. Harry's mother
blamed Kitty for her son's recent alteration. Poor, bewildered Kitty, who was
as helpless to account for it as anybody.

"Mrs. Dashwood - " Kitty began.

Fanny rose to her feet. "You have been a ruinous influence
on my son.
He was never careless with his person, his fortune, or his reputation until he
became engaged to you. Why you have molded him into a lesser man than he was, I
cannot speculate, but I will tell you what I just told him: I will not
countenance it. He may possess Norland, but I still have my own fortune to
bequeath, and if he persists in this behavior I'll spin in my grave before it
will be settled upon him. My mother divested her eldest son of his anticipated
inheritance, and I can do the same. So in your own self-interest, Miss Bennet,
I advise
you
to advise
him
to reform."

Kitty's trembling hand gripped the embroidery frame tightly. Her makeshift
aegis having failed in its office, she absorbed the full force of Fanny's
assault. "I shall do my best."

"I should hope so, Miss Bennet. Thus far, you hardly can have done
worse."

Elizabeth could not bear to see Kitty so undeservedly abused. "Mrs.
Dashwood, you cannot in fairness hold my sister responsible for your son's
recent conduct. In fact, we are all as distressed by it as you are."

"Then why have you done nothing about it?"

"We have tried. But Mr. Dashwood, as you know, has his own mind,
and at present seems disinclined to take direction from others."

Fanny regarded Kitty with disdain. "I should think a man's fiancee
would possess some ability to influence him."

A few minutes ago, Kitty had exerted so much power over Harry that she
was entirely answerable for his behavior; now she was condemned for not
wielding enough.

"I should think his mother would, as well," Elizabeth said.

Fanny sputtered. "I cannot believe you would show me such
disrespect as to - "

"It is no more than you yourself have demonstrated." Elizabeth
had heard more than enough. While she did not want to
damage Kitty's bond with her future
mother-in-law, Fanny was already so decided against her sister that Elizabeth
doubted any incivility on her own part could further fracture their
relationship. She crossed to the drawing room door and opened it wide. "Come,
Kitty Mrs. Dashwood is leaving now."

Sixteen

"This seems
to have been a day of general
elucidation."

-
Elinor
Dashwood to Colonel Brandon,

Sense and Sensibility,
Chapter 30

The whispers began in the theatre lobby. The sounds of conversation and
gossip always filled
London's theatres before, after, and even during
productions. Rumor and repartee supplied lines that rivaled those of the
playwrights, while their speakers paraded in finery as elaborate as any costume.
The audience itself - who was there, with whom, speaking to whom - formed as
much of the spectacle as props and scenery, and often as much drama took place
in the boxes, galleries, and pits as on the stages themselves.

This evening marked the first time, however, that Elizabeth sensed her
own party was the subject of the
ou
i
-dire
that burbled through the theatre. She, Kitty, and Georgiana had taken a
private box, and all hoped Miss Bennet would find some distraction from the
fact that for three consecutive days, notes of regret instead of Mr. Dashwood
himself had arrived at their door. He pleaded indisposition, claiming a
disinclination to leave his bed. Elizabeth hoped the malady that kept him away
might derive in part from embarrassment over his conduct the last time they had
seen him,
but she somehow doubted his ability to feel that much shame. Whatever the
origin of his present excuse, she wished it swiftly dispatched, as she had
seldom known the principals of a love match to spend so comparatively little
time together during their engagement as Kitty and Mr. Dashwood had.

They'd arrived at the theatre to find it crowded. Tonight's comedy had
opened the previous week to excellent reviews, so now it was a point of status
among the
ton
to be able to boast of having seen the play before the
rest of one's acquaintance. Elizabeth saw many faces she recognized, and many more
she did not. She and her companions greeted those they knew and submitted to
the usual small talk about the weather and Beau Brummell's latest
bon mot.

As Elizabeth chatted with Mrs. Farringdale, a neighbor from Longbourn,
she experienced an increasing sense of being watched. Surreptitious glances to
the side and over Mrs. Far-ringdale's shoulder revealed that she was not
imagining the attention. There were indeed gazes upon her - many gazes that
darted away when challenged by her own.

Not until she and the girls climbed the grand columned staircase and entered
their box did Elizabeth realize that she owed the notice to Kitty, whose share
of it far surpassed her own. Throughout the theatre, furtive glances and open
stares accompanied hushed dialogue and sympathetic head shakes. Georgiana was
aware of them, too. Kitty held up her chin and did her best to ignore the
attention, but something about her had captured the transient interest of the
beau
monde
tonight.

"Lizzy?"

She patted Kitty's hand as she answered the unspoken question. "I
do not know, Kitty. But I am sure we shall hear it ourselves soon."

Lord and Lady Chatfield entered their box, separated from the Darcys' by
three others. Elizabeth nodded in greeting at the countess and privately
resolved to speak with her during
the interval if possible. Perhaps their friends had heard the gossip
circulating about Kitty and could enlighten them as to its nature.

At the close
of the first act, Elizabeth stated her intention of seeking out the Chatfields
and invited the girls to join her. Kitty vacillated. Staying in their box
insulated her from having to speak directly with anyone they might encounter in
the corridor, but at the same time prominently displayed her to the
rumormongers. Georgiana suggested that they two remain together. They would
create the appearance of being too engrossed in conversation to notice the
twitters, and Kitty would turn toward Georgiana so as to offer most of the
house only a profile view of her face. In that posture, though she might still
be observed by those who would dissect her every expression for hidden meaning,
she at least would not be forced to witness their scrutiny. Kitty gratefully
seized upon the solution, and Elizabeth headed off.

She
encountered Lady Chatfield in the hallway behind the boxes, the young countess
having left hers on the same errand. Her ladyship moved with a natural grace
Elizabeth knew she herself could never hope to achieve.

"Mrs.
Darcy, I was just coming to bid you good evening." Her smile at their meeting
was genuine, lighting her delicate features. Her eyes, however, betrayed a hint
of anxiety. "Are you and your sisters enjoying the performance?"

"It is
diverting," Elizabeth responded. Similar conversations babbled around them
in the busy hallway. "Though perhaps not quite enough so, tonight."

The countess
drew her toward the wall, where it might be hoped that they could converse
unheard. "You and Miss Bennet have heard the news, then? It must have been
a terrible shock to her. I am so terribly sorry."

Foreboding
swept through her. "No, we have not heard the gossip) - only surmised from
everyone's behavior that it had
something to do with Kitty. I hoped perhaps you
could tell me what is being said about her."

"Oh, dear." Lady Chatfield's smooth brow wrinkled. "I do
not want to be the bearer of ill tidings."

"Better for me to hear them from a friend."

"I suppose so." They stood near a column that isolated a small
pocket of the corridor from the rest. No one else lingered by it, as it would
obscure from view anyone so positioned and most of the
ton
lived to be
seen. The countess led her to the column, a move that made Elizabeth's chest
tighten. Whatever she had to impart must be dreadful indeed. After all,
everyone else in the theatre had already heard it, so Lady Chatfield sought
privacy not to protect the intelligence itself from eavesdroppers, but to
protect Elizabeth from being observed during the moment of revelation.

"Mr. Dashwood has taken a mistress."

Elizabeth was rendered speechless for a moment. When she recovered, she
reminded herself that rumor and fact often were not closely acquainted. Her
eyes roamed the crowd, seeing not individuals, but a great monster with a small
mind and a thousand mouths that fed on innocent people such as her sister in
its quest for entertainment and self-aggrandizement. It had seized upon Harry's
recent licentiousness and invented a scandalous tale for its own amusement.

"The report cannot be true. What a horrible falsehood to spread
before someone's wedding!"

The countess appeared more grave than Elizabeth had ever seen her. "Mrs.
Darcy, I'm afraid it is no lie. I learned it this afternoon from my brother
Phillip, who had it straight from Mr. Dashwood himself. The gossip started
yesterday - rumors of a liaison between Mr. Dashwood and a nameless woman.
Phillip took no heed of it when he heard it at the club. But he called upon Mr.
Dashwood this morning and found him at breakfast with his paramour."

"Could not the woman he saw simply have been invited to breakfast?"
Such an invitation still raised questions but offered a more palatable explanation
than the alternative.

"I understand she was in a state of extreme dishabille."

"And Mr. Dashwood allowed her to be seen that way by his friend?"

"Phillip said the lady was concerned by their discovery, but Mr.
Dashwood was shameless as could be. In fact, he found the whole scene highly
amusing."

Elizabeth's stomach sickened. Her sister's fiance had taken a lover. The
faithless Harry Dashwood had not only broken his vows before even speaking
them, he had flaunted his infidelity before his friend - and, it seemed, before
all London. She recalled his recent claim of indisposition, and her discomfort
gave way to disgust. Was this how he had occupied himself the past three days?
Disinclined to leave his bed, indeed!

"Who is the lady?" Her emphasis on the last word revealed how
lightly she used it.

"Phillip did not say, I did not ask, and so far the
beau monde
does
not know. My brother did divulge to me, however, that she is married."

So Mr. Dashwood had managed to damage someone else's marriage, to injure
another spouse, in addition to his own. No - not his own. A marriage between
Harry and her sister now was out of the question. Her heart ached for Kitty.

Around them, the crowd started to file back into the auditorium in anticipation
of the second act. She gazed at the entrance to her own box, dreading the
conversation she must have with her sister tonight. It would not come until
she'd whisked her safely out of this place, but come it must. Mr. Dashwood's
association with their family was ended.

Seventeen

"Much as you suffer now, think of what you would
have suffered if the discovery of his character had been delayed to a later
period."

-
Elinor
Dashwood to her sister Marianne,

Sense and Sensibility,
Chapter 29

"I
wish she would allow me to handle this for her."

Elizabeth wished so, too. Darcy would deliver the set-down that Harry
Dashwood deserved. Kitty's heart still lay in too many pieces for it to have
hardened against him enough to fully castigate him for his villainy, and
Elizabeth feared the imminent conversation would only lead to its being
shattered twice in four-and-twenty hours. She would be happier not to provide
Mr. Dashwood that opportunity.

"Kitty wants to break the engagement herself."
Needed
to
do so, in fact. Needed to see his expression when he issued an explanation, or
uttered more lies, or brazenly mocked her naivete - whatever response the increasingly
unpredictable Mr. Dashwood might offer. Though Elizabeth's first instinct was
to protect her sister from the unpleasant encounter ahead, she was glad to see
Kitty taking a stand for herself. No matter what words fell from Harry's lips,
the engagement was over; to that much, Kitty had committed. She would leave Pall
Mall minus a fiance but with her self-respect intact.

Elizabeth and Darcy waited in their foyer for Kitty to come downstairs.
The three of them would go together to Mr. Dash-wood's townhouse. He was not
expecting them, but he
would
receive their call. On that point, Darcy
and Elizabeth were determined. This matter would be resolved today. All that
remained was to establish how much Kitty would rue ever having met Mr. Dash
wood in the first place.

"Here she comes," Darcy said.

Though Kitty had risen puffy-eyed from a sleepless night, Elizabeth's
maid had taken such care with her appearance that she looked every bit a young
lady worth any gentleman's notice. She carried herself with dignity as she
descended the stairs, and held up her chin with barely a tremble.