Chapter Twenty-Five

She saw him pull out a handkerchief with a very badly embroidered floral pattern around the edge (perhaps Miss Darcy was not such an accomplished woman after all?), seemingly embarrassed to blowing his nose in company. His cheeks flushed, and his eyes darted to her quickly and then away – and then back again, when he saw her watching. His ears went quite pink, and he quickly tucked his handkerchief away.

She gave him an amused smile, raised her eyebrow as if to question his embarrassment, and then allowed herself to be drawn once again into Bingley's warm and surprisingly eloquent lecture on the great benefits of the colour yellow.

So Mr. Darcy had a sense of humour and a bad cold. How terribly interesting.

To be busy is to be happy.

Some people swear by that old adage. Jane Bennet had never been one of them, but she would certainly say that she was beginning to find that statement quite true. She had never been so grateful for Lizzy's clever mind.

The remodelling of Kitty's room was proving quite a useful and happy task to set her mind to - and not just for herself, but for Elizabeth and even Mary. Their parents, as well, were showing increased cheerfulness with the new project. The mood at Longbourn had improved rapidly since the announcement of the project, and it had only been three days!

To begin with, there was planning to do. Jane and Elizabeth had sketched the room in a dozen different ways – different styles of curtains, coverlets, furniture arrangement, mantelpiece décor, etc. No decision having been made, they decided that the style would depend on the colours and fabrics.

Naturally, that meant that the next stop was the draper's. The girls spent most of the afternoon examining bolts of heavy fabric, and they came home with sample pieces of several different colours which they spent most of the following evening exclaiming over with great enjoyment. Pinks, greens, blues, and purples - they had even picked up a few shades of yellow to consider! The more Jane thought about it, the more she was starting to see the benefits of that colour. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were once again away visiting neighbourhood families, so their opinion on the subject was not to be had.

In the end, a mixture of natural greens and yellows was chosen. An entirely yellow room seemed too bright for rest, whilst an entirely green room seemed not quite bright enough. The combination, it was declared, was absolutely charming!

The fabric for the drapes was chosen first, so that the girls were once again seen in town the very next day visiting the exact same shop. Mrs. Bennet was nearly tempted to join them, but declined at the last minute when she was entirely overcome by her nerves at the very thought of accidentally meeting her sister on the street. Much as the girls and Mrs. Gardiner had attempted to make amends, nothing short of a sincere apology would do for Mrs. Bennet – and really, it ought to be a proper grovel!

Once the drapes had been chosen, the girls picked out complementary materials from which to have the coverlet made, as well as the materials which they would need for showing the seat cushions for the room. Elizabeth, hesitating, had splurged and spent her pin money on a very nice set of paints, which Jane found quite interesting.

"Paints, Lizzy? I didn't know you could paint!" Jane had exclaimed with surprise, a delighted smile on her face.

Elizabeth blushed and shook her head. "I don't know that I can, truly! Only, all of this sketching has put me in a bit of a mood, and if I do not have my way with it, this mad artistic urge shall never loose me from its grasp! I thought I would just try my hand at some sunflowers, or some nice landscape with the nice yellows and greens from Kitty's room, just so that she'll have something nice over the mantle."

"I think it a fine idea!" Jane declared, putting an arm around Elizabeth's waist supportively. "Perhaps I shall try some as well – I cannot recall the last time we attempted such an artistic endeavour, but perhaps it is about time we added to our list of accomplishments."

Elizabeth blushed again, though Jane knew not why, and nodded her agreement before slipping away to purchase the paints. Jane wondered what had caused that blush, but chose to say nothing. She had a sneaking suspicious that Mr. Darcy, and whatever might be his idea of an accomplished woman, was beginning to prey upon Elizabeth's mind. Knowing Lizzy, she was out to prove something. She only hoped that she didn't make too much of the matter – Mr. Darcy was so terribly shy!

The next day was the hardest day.

One of the most important details which had been largely overlooked throughout the remodelling process to date had been the fact that in order to redo Lydia's old room … they had to go into Lydia's old room and sort through all of her things.

Mrs. Hill went in first to make sure the fire was lit, the curtains opened for light, and a few chairs arranged for the comfort of the girls. Thus, after a very quiet breakfast, the Bennet family made their way up the stairs and, for the first time since the funeral, entered Lydia's bedroom.

It was strange for Jane to realize how very abandoned the room had been over the course of the past two weeks. A fine layer of dust had settled over everything – not thick, but just enough to lend the room an air of neglect. The air was still quite cool, in spite of the blazing fire, and Jane shivered as she stepped across the threshold – from the chill or her own nerves, she could not say.

A few stray ribbons and bonnets and ornaments were still strewn across the floor where no one had tidied them up properly since the night of the Netherfield Ball, merely brushing them aside in their haste to see to another task. The bed was still slightly indented and rumpled in the place where Lydia's body had rested, and Jane shivered now with true emotion as she remembered the horrific sight. Elizabeth took her hand, and Jane gave it a warm squeeze in return, turning to look at her sister. Elizabeth had also paled, and she knew then that her sister was remembering the same moment. They shared a weak smile.

"Well," Elizabeth said, her determined voice breaking the eerie stillness which was creeping upon them and threatening to overwhelm their spirits, "I believe we should first of all start with the useful things. Anything that can be saved to be used again – ribbons, bonnets which can be redone, dresses, that sort of thing – perhaps we ought to put by the door to take downstairs?"

Jane nodded, breathing a sigh of relief at having a purpose. Mary immediately moved to the wardrobe and opened it. Mrs. Bennet cried out, startling them all.

"Oh!" she cried. She put both hands to her chest with a pained expression. "Oh, Thomas! Little Emily! Oh, Thomas!"

Mr. Bennet, seemingly now accustomed to such outbursts, moved to her side immediately.

Jane's eyes fell at last on the source of the problem – on the top shelf of the wardrobe, nearly swimming in a sea of bonnets and ribbons, stood the little china doll which had been given to Lydia on her tenth birthday. It was a beautiful doll: full, golden curls, bright blue eyes, blushing cheeks, porcelain skin, and a carefully stitched blue silk gown in a rather old-fashioned style. The other girls had all received their dolls on their eleventh birthdays, but Lydia had put up a terrible fuss once Kitty had been given hers, so Mrs. Bennet had acquiesced to the early gift without too much hesitation. Kitty had pouted for a month about having her special present ruined by Lydia receiving hers at the same time, but no one had paid it much mind. Lydia had adored the doll for about a month, and then she never spoke of it again. They had all assumed that little Emily had gone the way of many of Lydia's other "treasured possessions," and yet … here she was. Jane smiled at the sight, and then sighed. Lydia was still just a child, really.

Mary reached up to carefully remove the doll from its perch, and Jane wondered when Mary had gotten so tall! Mary looked at the doll a moment, smoothed her mussed curls, wiped a thin layer of dust from her rosy cheeks, and then brought the doll to Mrs. Bennet.

Mrs. Bennet took the doll, repeating much the same process with tears streaming down her face. Mr. Bennet gave his daughters a look, then took his wife's elbow and gently guided her out of the room. She went willingly, completely absorbed in the doll. Mr. Bennet closed the door behind them, leaving the three sisters staring at the closed door with thoughtful stares.

Jane linked her arm through Mary's, as Mary seemed quite perturbed by the unexpected result of opening the wardrobe doors, and guided her gently back to the wardrobe.

"Come, Mary! Let us find the things that may be useful! Whatever we do not like, perhaps we ought to make over for some of the tenants' children," she suggested brightly. Together, the two girls attacked the wardrobe with great enthusiasm, sorting the clothing and ribbons into piles of "keep," "give away," and "throw away." Elizabeth was in charge of the sorting and, as usual, made a clever game of it, so that it wasn't long before the girls were tossing ribbons and bonnets at each other across the room, laughing at their own silliness.

To be busy is to be happy.

Kitty had always believed it to be true, but she had always taken it as encouragement to spend more time socializing and trimming bonnets rather than engaging in any true form of work.

But after merely two days in the Gardiner household, Kitty was quite exhausted and quite inexplicably happy.

Kitty had never imagined there could be so much work to done! Lord, did everyone work this hard?! It seemed there was always something to be attended to – not just menus and table settings, but servants and budgeting and the price of sugar, new clothes for the children and new boots now that the old ones had gone leaky, charities to assist and teas to host, not to mention spending time with the children each day! Why, it seemed to Kitty that one hardly had a moment to one's self in such a manic household! If she had thought that perhaps she would have a chance to re-trim a bonnet or play the piano, she was entirely deceived. The moment she sat down, something else seemed to occur which would require her attention.

A part of Kitty wondered if Mrs. Gardiner wasn't going especially out of her way to keep Kitty busy, as Kitty had never heard Jane or Lizzy complain about being terribly busy during their visits to the Gardiners. Then again, Jane would never complain about anything, and Lizzy became quite grumpy when she hadn't enough work to keep herself occupied. Perhaps this was simply the way of things. But Lord – if this was what it took to run a household, she should wonder how married women had any time to write letters at all! Suddenly, the lengthy epistles the family received from Aunt Gardiner once a month seemed an enormous feat, and Kitty found herself quite admiring her aunt. Honestly! However did she manage it all? And seem so peaceful in the midst!

Indeed, Mrs. Gardiner went about her work with a gentle smile and a patient spirit every day – it almost irked Kitty how completely implacable that woman was. And she still seemed to find time for herself. It was amazing, truly.

London was not at all what Kitty had imagined – there were no balls, no parties, no theatre, no visits to museums. Aunt Gardiner promised that these things would eventually happen, but everything was so dreadfully busy upon their return, especially in preparation for Yuletide, that they had been postponed indefinitely. Which was just as well, really, since Kitty was in mourning anyways and couldn't have nearly the fun she would have liked. Still, it was rather disappointing to see no young men at all! Much as she knew that she wasn't truly interested in flirting with any men at the moment, it still seemed a shame to be in London and meet no one at all. Lydia would have called her all sorts of names if she would have found out!

There was only one person whom Kitty had met in London, and she rather thought he didn't quite count. His name was Mr. Stone, and he was Mr. Gardiner's clerk. He came to the house just once to pick up some things from Mr. Gardiner's office, but Mrs. Gardiner had greeted him warmly, as one might an old friend, and introduced him very nicely to Kitty.

Kitty, who had been taken aback by the sudden introduction, had very nearly blushed! She curtseyed and murmured her "how do you do?" with relative ease, feeling what a terrible fright she must look all in black and pale as death with her hair frizzled from entertaining the children for the past quarter hour. He was terribly handsome, even without a redcoat. He was tall and thin, but broad-shouldered, with brown hair and brown eyes that would be quite nondescript if not for his beautiful, Grecian features. Kitty had felt quite tiny and insignificant standing near him, and she wondered at his choice of career – surely he ought to be an officer with such dashing style! But then he had given her a serious look, offered her a serious bow, and pursed his lips in such a serious way that Kitty was properly disconcerted. Handsome men were not supposed to behave so seriously! It lent him a very dull air and made him distinctly less attractive. He had greeted her politely, offered his condolences for her loss, and gone about his business without any fuss. He had not complimented her, winked at her, or even given her a longing look!

Kitty was tempted to put it down to her looks, which were not what they usually were, but could not help feeling that this was not the sort of man who would have been moved by such things anyways. He was like that awful Mr. Greengrass. Perhaps all clerks were alike – dull and dreadful! At least this one was handsome. He wouldn't be so terrible to have around as Uncle Philips' clerk, who was almost painfully unattractive.

At any rate, she would not let him disturb her happiness! Her busy lifestyle had resulted in two consecutive nights of dreamless, peaceful sleep – the sort of sleep which Kitty had been longing for ever since Lydia's death. She felt better, as if she had more energy, and there was such a reward in seeing the children's smiles and hearing them calling for her especially! She had found a small mistake in the housekeeper's sums when she was watching Mrs. Gardiner and the cook going over the recent prices, and she had created a very elegant arrangement of holly on the mantle. It was nice not having to compete for attention with her elder sisters, and it was nice to have people rely upon her for sundry tasks, no matter how small they might be.

Yes, she really did think that coming to London had been a very good idea – even in spite of the lack of balls and the presence of the solemn Mr. Stone!

The Netherfield party was restlessly milling about the lounge as they waited for Gregson to call dinner. Mr. Bingley was in his usual jumpy state, as always occurred after having gone several days without spending time in Miss Bennet's presence, and could not keep to one task – one moment pacing the floor by the fire, the next sitting and fiddling with the cushions, the next jumping up to go look out the window. Colonel Fitzwilliam sat at the card table, listlessly cutting a deck of cards over and over again as he stared off into space, tapping his foot impatiently. Mr. Darcy stood at the window, observing the wind rustling the trees on the other side of the park and frowning at the grey, heavy clouds obscuring the sun and bringing the day to an early end. Miss Bingley, the last of their party, was once again taking a turn about the room and growing frustrated as each turn brought no more of Mr. Darcy's attention to herself than the last.

Finally, quite annoyed by the entire situation, Caroline spoke: "I dare say, Charles, I wonder at you insisting on coming back up to Hertfordshire. It is dreadfully dull here – such a lack of company, and such weather!"

"I quite like the company," Mr. Bingley remarked, a gentle reprimand in his voice. "I have truly enjoyed getting to know the neighbours over the course of the past few days. They are, for the most part, truly genteel and friendly people. I shall enjoy being their neighbour!"

"It would have been a great deal more enjoyable, I'm sure, if you were not also trying to discover a murderer!" Caroline said disdainfully. "Honestly! It's all quite shocking! Firstly, the mere idea of considering a gentleman as a suspect of a murder investigation! And then to also engage gentlemen of your standing – of Mr. Darcy's standing – to find him out over tea?! It is too much – it is a novel. Soon we shall all be challenging each other to duels, and Netherfield Park shall become quite haunted."

"I assure you, Miss Bingley," Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke, levelling an equally disdainful eye at the woman. "If gentlemen could be discounted from every murder investigation simply upon the basis of being gentlemen, there would be a great many unsolved mysteries in the world. One does not argue with an eye-witness."

Caroline huffed, putting on her best offended air. "Well! I suppose if you must take the word of a tenant's son, and one likely not even in his right mind considering the way he was raving about that dead girl –"

"Miss Bingley," Mr. Darcy sharply interrupted her, turning abruptly away from the window and moving further into the room. "I would beg of you to please remember that 'that dead girl,' as you so eloquently stated, was a gentleman's daughter, who was brutally and unjustly murdered a mere fortnight ago. I should wonder whether stating your opinion on this subject, and especially on the reliability of the only witness to the murder, may be considered quite presumptuous when one takes into account your absence throughout the entirety of the proceedings."

"I was only saying that there is a certain class of people which ought not to be trusted, and –"

"Caroline!" Mr. Bingley exclaimed, shocked at her tone. "If a man cannot trust his tenants -!"

"Not to interrupt," Colonel Fitzwilliam interrupted with casual grace, moving towards the window with squinted eyes, "but it seems we have some visitors."

As one, the party moved towards the windows to discover their unexpected company. Mr. Darcy's eyes narrowed and Colonel Fitzwilliam's eyes widened as the carriage approached and the crest became visible.

"Surely not …" Colonel Fitzwilliam muttered, confusion in his voice. "Whatever business could have my brother have in this part of the world? You don't suppose he has urgent news about Wickham's business in London? Or … it couldn't be my parents, could it?"

Mr. Darcy looked just as confused, shaking his head. "What reason could they have to visit Hertfordshire? The weather is not safe for their travel, especially your father's."

"You don't think there is something the matter? Father has been feeling poorly of late…"

"I dearly hope not."

Mr. Darcy put a supportive hand on his cousin's shoulder as the carriage pulled to a stop and they waited to see who had arrived. It turns out that it was Mr. Darcy, however, who needed a supporting hand, for after Colonel Fitzwilliam's elder brother had stepped out of the carriage, he turned and assisted a tall, graceful young lady, who, when she turned her head towards the house, was revealed most certainly to be …

"Georgiana!"