My dear Miss Austen,
How easy it is to trespass
upon the dead! You have no ability to defend yourself, and here I am posed to
turn this convenient state of affairs to good measure. I will not repeat my
previous justifications, offered with sincere humility and good intentions at
the time, for now such words would stink of hypocrisy. Dare I apologize for
that which I do with great intention and for little reason more than my own
personal amusement? No. I cannot find the gall.
Were you with us still, Darcy,
Elizabeth, and all who attend them could rest safely in your own, motherly
hands, instead of being tossed about so unceremoniously by those of us who pen
such works as this. The situation is most unfair, but we must have more Bennets
and Bingleys, more Collinses and de Bourghs, and all that we who truly love you
can do to mitigate our transgressions is to try and honor your memory, even as
we infringe upon it. You see, we are selfish and simply cannot help ourselves, and as “there is no
hope for a cure”, to utilize your own words, you must forgive us.
Today I offer for your inspection, perhaps even approval, one Sir James
Stratton. To again borrow your words, and from where you have been most often
generous, “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in
possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.” Should a gentleman of
said description be so contrary as to defy this edict,
his friends will feel perfectly at liberty to interest themselves on his
behalf, and amply justified they will consider even the most intrusive
interference, too. So thought Sir James. Position and wealth are largely
considered blessings, but as both were attained through the sacrifice of a
beloved father, Sir James rather regarded them as burdens. Since inheriting he avoided
society, impatient with those who valued him for wealth and position alone. It
was his vast preference to remain cloistered at Teggington, interesting himself
in his estate and stables, seeking diversion in travel, and only mixing with
English society as needed. Nevertheless, his friends would see him married, and
such seclusion was not to be tolerated. Maybe, perhaps, if there were a
charming daughter of the neighboring house, or another young lady in the area
to whom he might attach himself, a season in London would not be of the utmost
necessity, but no such ready damsels existed. Thus came the assaults, every
person dear to him united in their cause. Some came at the question with care,
pestering him with vague hints and suggestions, while others attacked directly,
charging him at every opportunity with his duty and barraging him with their
assistance. Though the latter approach was decidedly more provoking, he had to
acknowledge it more effective, a thought bestirred by a letter from his aunt,
Augusta Westingham, a leader of this second camp:
Barsington, Feb. 17
My Dear Sir James,
While I am not one to credit gossip, news of your recent escapade upon an unstable creature has caused me no small degree of alarm. My dear nephew, can you really have taken such an unwarranted risk? Am I to see the home I grew up in pass to virtual strangers, all because you will insist on hazarding your life before securing your patrimony? The entire fate of the Stratton family rests in your hands: do not be cavalier about your duty!
Barsington, Feb. 17
My Dear Sir James,
While I am not one to credit gossip, news of your recent escapade upon an unstable creature has caused me no small degree of alarm. My dear nephew, can you really have taken such an unwarranted risk? Am I to see the home I grew up in pass to virtual strangers, all because you will insist on hazarding your life before securing your patrimony? The entire fate of the Stratton family rests in your hands: do not be cavalier about your duty!
If you must continue at trying to break your neck, at least
beget a child first – perhaps two, for good measure – and for that you must
marry posthaste, as heaven knows you will soon be engaged in some new escapade.
Despite my laments, it's what I always liked about you, James. You keep life
interesting, and I was always one for a bit of adventure: the spice and flavor
of variety. As Cowper further wrote of there being nothing “in the vale of life
half so delightful as a wife”, we can be sure he too would urge you to savor
this epicurean delight with all expediency.
It is to this end that I have invited several dear friends,
all mothers of eminently eligible ladies, to a house party the second week in March.
Your friend Mr. Brooks, who was so kind as to call this morning as he was
passing through the area, assures me this will provide more than enough time
for you to fully heal. If none of these ladies capture your heart, you will
continue on to London for the season, where an endless number of young ladies
will be sure to compete for your attention. I know not on what grounds you
could possibly object! There can be no excuse for further delay.
Your affectionate aunt,
Augusta Westingham
Sir James sighed. Simon would betray him to his aunt. He was certain his friend had acted with the best of intentions, but being perfectly guileless sometimes led him to share that which need not be said. Nevertheless, he knew Aunt Augusta to be correct, however little he welcomed her involvement in his affairs, and saw no reason to resist her summons. If her house party produced just the right lady, all the better for him, but he would choose his own bride, not have one selected for him. And if, in the meantime, his fancy drove him to ride another unbroken horse, he would just have to do his very best to preserve his neck. It would not do to prove her right, after all, for if there were anyone who could gloat beyond the barrier of death, it would be Augusta Westingham.
Your affectionate aunt,
Augusta Westingham
Sir James sighed. Simon would betray him to his aunt. He was certain his friend had acted with the best of intentions, but being perfectly guileless sometimes led him to share that which need not be said. Nevertheless, he knew Aunt Augusta to be correct, however little he welcomed her involvement in his affairs, and saw no reason to resist her summons. If her house party produced just the right lady, all the better for him, but he would choose his own bride, not have one selected for him. And if, in the meantime, his fancy drove him to ride another unbroken horse, he would just have to do his very best to preserve his neck. It would not do to prove her right, after all, for if there were anyone who could gloat beyond the barrier of death, it would be Augusta Westingham.
Chapter One
“A rather thick letter for you, Miss Bennet. It must be at least four
sheets. You will soon run out of pin money if you continue to maintain such
verbose correspondents,” Mrs. Rivers chided her favorite at the breakfast
table.
“Oh!” Kitty Bennet exclaimed. “It is from Miss Darcy. May I take it to
Sydney Gardens to read? It is such a lovely day, and this weather cannot
possibly last.”
“As you have no lessons scheduled until later this morning, I see no
reason why a walk would not be most beneficial. As Abby has the morning off,
you must take Miss Lydia with you, of course.”
The subject of this condition looked up from the far end of the table,
where she and three other young ladies had been having a secretive conversation
all their own. “I cannot attend Kitty without Miss Burke. She and I have
important business to discuss.”
Mrs. Rivers narrowed suspicious eyes in their direction. “No more
mischief, I presume?”
“None at all, Mrs. Rivers!” proclaimed an injured Miss Burke, a pretty,
vivacious girl, and Lydia Bennet's closest associate. “I think a walk would be
just the thing. Miss Lydia and I only wish to discuss the latest fashions. Miss
Lenton has the newest plates, you know, and we finally had our turn to study
them last night.”
“Important business, indeed.” Mrs. Rivers tone was dismissive, but her
eyes revealed her amusement. “Very well. Mind you all stay together, and be
back no later than one, or Signore Falcione will be most put out.”
“Yes ma'am,” all three ladies chanted, leaving the table to dress for
their outing. It was not long before they were out the door, enjoying the
unseasonable warmth and unexpected freedom.
While they journeyed the easy mile from Mrs. Rivers' establishment to
Sidney Gardens, the ladies maintained their headmistress' dictate to remain
together, but it was not long after they reached the gardens that Miss Burke
and Lydia broke off from Kitty in order to pursue their private conversation,
leaving their companion on a nearby bench. Kitty had very little faith in the
notion that Letitia Burke and her younger sister were actually discussing
fashion, for such conversation would not require the degree of secrecy they
seemed determined to maintain. It was far more likely they were planning some
practical joke or another, like hiding Miss Carson's workbag from her again.
Kitty cared little for their antics and was happy to be left alone with her
letter.
It was a very long missive. Georgiana Darcy had filled each page so
closely with relations of her activities in London, where she was spending her
first season, that even her elegant handwriting was difficult to decipher. Kitty
enjoyed every detail about the balls and routs she had been attending, closing
her eyes and dreaming of being in the elegant rooms with Georgiana, just as
fashionably dressed. In this imaginative state of mind, Kitty had to reread the
final paragraph several times before she felt convinced of its reality:
My cousin, Lady Annabelle Fitzwilliam, as you
know, has been a huge comfort to me throughout this ordeal. Had it not been for
her presence, I do not know how I should have fared these past few weeks. My
presentation, without her companionship, would have been horribly daunting. So when
it was revealed that poor Annabelle had contracted the measles, you can surely
understand my distress. I do feel terrible for my cousin, certainly, but
self-interest overrides sympathy, and my greatest concern has been how lonely I
shall be for the rest of this season, having to attend all these overwhelming
events without the sympathy of companion my own age and situation. Thus it is
decided, assuming you consent, that due to the excellent reports from Mrs.
Rivers regarding your progress, now is time to end your formal education that
you might join us in London to share the remainder of the season with me. What
do you think, my dear Kitty? I profess your companionship is even more
desirable to me than Annabelle's, with whom I have never been very close.
Please say you will join us! Lizzy says she will see to your wardrobe once you
get here, and my brother has already written to Mrs. Rivers regarding travel
arrangements. We hope you will be with us before Lady Day, as we are invited to
a great ball that evening that I want you to attend. Do not leave me in
suspense, but write your answer as soon as you are able. I await your response
most anxiously!
Your impatient friend,
Georgiana Darcy
“London!” Kitty gasped aloud, as the full impact of the invitation made
itself felt. “I must write immediately!” and looking around herself, she
realized that neither Lydia nor Miss Burke were anywhere insight.
She rose quickly, setting off in the direction she had seen them
take. Soon she spotted both ladies,
engaged in animated conversation with a young man she did not know. Quickening
her pace, she was just within a close enough distance to the trio to overhear
Lydia say, “Here comes my sister. Now we shall have no more fun.”
Kitty nearly froze in the shock of those words. She and Lydia, once
inseparable, had grown apart in the year they had spent in Bath, the latter
having easily made friends amongst the girl's her own age, while Kitty suffered
the uncomfortable distinction of being the eldest pupil in Mrs. Rivers' care,
but yet she had never suspected that she was regarded by the other as a
nuisance. The knowledge hurt, but the past year had brought Kitty ample
instruction on the concealment of such emotion, and she continued onward,
established herself as part of their group, and awaited the introductions.
“Miss Bennet, may I present Mr. Beaumont? His family and mine have long
been friends, and we grew up quite like brother and sister. This, of course, is
Miss Lydia's sister.”
The gentleman smiled and greeted her congenially, the pleasure he so
happily betrayed in making her acquaintance easing some of Kitty agitation.
Handsome, charming, an old friend of Miss Burke's, and apparently quite taken with
her younger sister – if his taking advantage of
the older sister's presence to heavily pepper his speech with Miss Lydia's, the
L rolling from his tongue caressingly, might be taken as an indication of
infatuation. She could see nothing objectionable in the chance meeting, but she
wanted to know more of Mr. Beaumont.
“How long have you known Mr. Beaumont, Lydia?” she questioned as they
headed back towards the school.
“Oh, any number of weeks now. We met one day at Letty's house, when I
joined her there for tea.”
Letitia Burke was a resident of Bath, but her father, a widower, found
it more convenient for his only child to reside with Mrs. Rivers while
completing her education, as he was incapable of doing anything other than
spoiling her. She had spent some years in her aunt's household before that good
lady refused to undertake the task any longer, claiming she could no longer
guarantee the girl's safety. School suited Miss Burke just fine, as she was
free to go back and forth to her own home as often as she liked, while
providing her with a great deal more interesting companionship. She had become
fast friends with Lydia within days of their meeting, and together they were
quite the bane of their instructors' existences.
Now she giggled mischievously, “But they have seen a great deal of each
other since.”
Lydia glared at her friend. “I have seen him twice more: once again at
Letty's, and another time, like today, we met him in the street.”
“He's very handsome,” Kitty acknowledged, and Lydia adopted a more
amiable attitude.
“Is he not? I wish you had seen him in his blue coat!”
“I do not know what you think attractive in Hugh Beaumont!” exclaimed
Letty, making a face of disgust. “You would not be able to bear him if you knew
him at I did, a fat and sticky child. I used to hate to dine with him.”
Lydia defended her admirer, claiming his past had no bearing on the
present, and the two began to slacken their pace as they argued over Mr.
Beaumont's merits. This conversation bore every appearance of being
well-rehearsed. Kitty, anxious to at least begin a response to Georgiana before
her music lesson, was several paces ahead of her companions when she reached
the next intersection. Perceiving an opening in traffic, and not wanting to
dawdle, Kitty boldly stepped into the street. She had almost reached the
pavement opposite when a curricle came upon her, proceeding at a most reckless
speed, and only stopped short just in time to avoid running her down. Kitty had
jumped backwards upon perceiving her peril, and now her body trembled with
fright as she contemplated her near escape. In such a moment of duress, an
angry voice penetrated her through the seemingly violent noise of her pounding
heartbeat, “What do you think you are about? Do you not know you might have
been killed? Get out of the street!”
This advice, though roughly delivered, was so sound that she heeded it
immediately, scrambling from the thoroughfare before allowing her anger to
register. Observing the gentleman wrestling with his reins, trying to calm his
frightened horses, Kitty found her voice and responded with equal heat, “In
such a crush, sir, I am astonished you would proceed at such a pace!”
Sir James Stratton, having gained control over his team, noticed that it
was a genteelly dressed young lady upon whom he had nearly inflicted grave
injury – one whose agitation added a very becoming glow to an already rosy
complexion – and jumped down to render assistance. Kitty, in turn, took notice
of his fine frame, elegant dress, and handsome face. However, though her
appearance might work to quell his chagrin, his made her only more indignant. A
man of such refined appearance should be more solicitous, like her sister's
husband, Mr. Darcy. His next statement, “You really should take care to watch
where you are going,” though spoken gently, was taken as further reprimand,
doing nothing to quell her ire.
“I was perfectly aware of my proceedings, sir, and this near accident
would never have occurred if you heeded your own unsolicited advice!” she
proclaimed shakily, her heightened emotions starting to overtake any semblance
of calm she had thus far managed to maintain.
Perceiving her very understandable distress, as well as recognizing the
justice of her claim, Sir James offered her his escort, beginning to in
introduce himself when an anxious call of “Miss Bennet! Are you alright?” came
from the corner opposite, claiming the attention of his damsel in distress.
“I do not require your assistance, sir!” she declared as firmly as she
could. “I am perfectly well to proceed on my own,” and turning on her heel she
began to make her way back across the street, hoping she did not betray her
weakened knees. However, as she almost immediately fell into the path of yet
another vehicle, her attempt at composure was in vain.
She heard the young man snicker beside her as he grasped her arm and
steadied her balance, and unwittingly leaning for a moment upon his support, he
quickly guided her out of traffic. Overcoming her bewilderment, she threw off
his grasp and turned on him, her face now fully flushed with the heat of her
outrage, “Unhand me, sir! As much as I am obliged to you for nearly killing me,
I feel far safer without your attendance!”
A determined twinkle shot from his eye as he smiled broadly (his
apparent humor acted as an additional insult to the vexed Kitty, who found
herself infuriatingly inclined to smile back), before he replied, “Oh yes. I
can see you are perfectly capable of navigating a street all upon your own.”
“I do not know what you can possibly find amusing!” she declared in
perplexity, straightening her disordered pelisse.
“Do you not? Please accept my
humblest apologies, not only for my own reckless driving, but also that of all
the other carriages hereabouts, as they all seem determined to get in your
way.”
“Oh!” cried an indignant Kitty as she turned her back upon the
gentleman, gathered her companions, and proceeded on her way, now taking the
utmost care to avoid any further potential mishaps. As she once again reclaimed the pavement, she
turned round to see the man directly behind them, gathering his reins and
smiling at her, laughter in his eyes as he waved goodbye. Kitty thrust her chin
into the air and continued up the street, Lydia and Miss Burke's questions
echoing behind her.
Want a little more? Check back for a peak at chapter two!
First Impressions: A Tale of Less Pride & Prejudice is available on Amazon now (buy it here). Second Glances: A Tale of Less Pride & Prejudice Continues will be available soon.
I'd laugh at her too. She is acting childish slightly, and did step out in front of another, I assume buggy, not vehicle, and blasted him for that too. Maybe she should go to London. Might be safer.
ReplyDeleteHi fredamans! Thanks for reading and commenting! Just to clarify, vehicle is a word derived from Latin and has been used since that time in reference to a multitude of transportation mechanisms, including buggies (though in this particular case, I was thinking of a wagon).
ReplyDelete