CHAPTER FOUR
Thursday April 9
I did not write for several days, because Tuesday and Wednesday have been spent madly rushing around Pemberley, Lambton and Derbyshire helping Lizzy. The silly woman has decided only now that it is time to 'get things ready' for the baby. Ominous words. She is rather swollen around the middle and is unfortunately quite content to sit in an armchair looking like an apple, ordering me round. Of course she is very polite and grateful about it, but she is desperate to get things done. I can't think why she left it this late, or why Mr Darcy allowed her to, but now all the harrowing work has been left to me. Honestly, it is like Bedlam in here.
First I had to call in the painters and carpenters and so on, and ask them for suggestions for the nursery, which has not been used in years. Then I had to communicate these suggestions to Elizabeth, who waved them away at once, suggesting her own ideas. Then her ideas were pooh-poohed by Mr Darcy, leading to a long and explosive argument, in which I tried to mediate. (Of course they enjoy arguing and would stop at once if either party's feelings were hurt. Which does not make my job easier, because neither's emotions were crushed in the course of the argument.) I mildly suggested a few things, and then the builders suggested a few more, and then finally something was settled on, and work began.
Secondly, I took the carriage into Lambton and feverishly sorted through all the shops for materials, baby clothes, other necessities, buying everything I saw as I was not sure what Elizabeth would like. I placed an order at the carpenter's for wooden toys. I asked the dressmaker to come to Pemberley at some point in the afternoon.
Thirdly, I had to talk to a lawyer about birth plans and wills and so on, because Mr Darcy was busy with his bailiff, and I even had to try and remember the information outside of the few brief titbits I managed to jot down. If you are in any way acquainted with me, you will know I have no taste – no taste WHATSOEVER – for the law, and it bores me to tears. This is all while Elizabeth pleaded off, saying she was tired, for heaven's sake, and sat down with a piece of embroidery and a cup of tea. Really, is it possible to be so foolish that you rely on Kitty Bennet, Peacock Extraordinaire, to handle your legal life?
Then the dressmaker came and I had to sit with her and Elizabeth and organise what clothes should be made. This was much harder than it may seem, as every time a picture or example was brought out, Elizabeth threatened to make noises and exclaim over how small each little cardigan or suit was to the point where we would not have been finished until midnight. I therefore had to detract her attention to other things, and we finally finished about two and a half hours later, by which time my head was sick and exhausted from all that quick thinking.
Right throughout this I was called on numerous occasions into the nursery to supervise procedures that I know nothing about and give advice without any idea of Elizabeth's feelings. It was enough to turn me into a nervous wreck. At least Georgiana helped me on this; she has enough artistic sense to fill a palace.
Then on Wednesday there was still more work to be done. Lizzy was having small pains in her stomach, and although she was not disturbed greatly, Mr Darcy was, and he sent for the doctor from Lambton. I had to stay with Lizzy throughout this, running as fast as I could to fetch instruments and hot water and so on whenever the doctor asked me. Then Lizzy and Mr Darcy went into raptures when the doctor told them they're having twins, and they all waltzed off and I was left to clean up, feeling very ill-used – although, of course, it is exciting that they will have twins! Imagine, two little screaming, dirty infants who are both convinced they are desperate for food, cleaning, sleep, in fact anything – ALL the time!
I then had to go into Lambton with messages, requests and orders that Elizabeth had forgotten before. Beef salami and nutmeg for Lizzy; (she was having cravings); to the carpenter's with an order for a cradle; more paint so the painters could finish the nursery; a second time to the carpenter's with an order for a bureau; to the upholsterer's with an old armchair Elizabeth thought would be lovely in the nursery; to the haberdashery store for fabric that would suit the armchair and the nursery; to the drapers for curtains – and more.
And then I met one of those fusty women from church who proceeded to imply to me almost directly that I was setting my cap at Lord Gosford, and at Mr Beaupays, and at Sir Thomas, and then to assure me that Lord Gosford meant to marry in the nobility, and that Sir Thomas loved to flirt but seldom meant it seriously, and that Mr Beaupays was in love with her fourteen-year- old daughter Charlotte, (a very improbable scenario as Charlotte was not even out, nor had she ever talked to Mr Beaupays, who regarded her with civil disdain), and that Mr Montgomery was a lazy good-for-nothing. I endured it as best I could but was not able to extract myself politely – and the scandal there would have been had I been impolite! - until I saw Alice Brandon walking out of Hart's, the haberdashery store, and was able to lie that I had a message to give Miss Brandon from Mrs Darcy and must run after her. For goodness' sake, I had not even been introduced to the woman, I still don't know her name, and she takes it upon herself to act in the place of my sister! The self-importance of some people I will never understand.
My meeting with Alice was one of the only good points of the day. We talked animatedly for a while, several whiles in fact, but then she saw Mr Winter going into the grocery store, and suddenly remembered she had an urgent errand from her mother to buy a cucumber. I saw her coming out several minutes later, arm in arm with Mr Winter, patently lacking a cucumber. But I am not at all offended, rather I am pleased that such a sweet, good girl can be wicked enough to do such a thing! I wonder if Georgiana would do anything of the kind ever. I seriously doubt it, but as you know, nothing is impossible. With faith one can move mountains.
Wednesday evening I had to assist Lizzy again and sew and sew and sew and sew. I have never been a sewer, although I am such an accomplished hat- decorator, and it is the slowest work ever. I found myself drooping over like a wilted flower by the time we had finished, and I had to drag myself to bed.
But today is the picnic! We are leaving in some forty minutes. I must own I am extremely excited.
That evening
I have just arrived back from the picnic on Falconhurst Hill, and have dived into the house, said good afternoon to my sister and her husband, and after the necessary commotion which I will explain later, have finally escaped, changed into warm clothes and picked up my pen to write down to you all of what has happened today. I think it is very good!!!!
Well, everybody met at Lord Gosford's mansion, Gosford House – which is WONDERFULLY amazingly splendid, by the way – and I shared a carriage with Lady Posy Canon and with Mr Montgomery. Mr Montgomery was too lazy to talk and so I spent the trip getting to know Lady Posy more and she is perfectly enchanting! Still rather wicked, I must admit.
"Oh, Miss Bennet," she sighed, with a wicked little glint in her eye. "I was disappointed to hear you were at church on Sunday."
"Why ever so?" I asked blankly.
"In my opinion, all the people who condone church are old fusties," she said. "I stay home in protest."
"Well, that's rather silly!" I replied frankly. "All of the people going on this expedition today were at church on Sunday! I admit church has not always been one of the highlights of my life, but it is starting to grow on me, and I'm not ashamed to say so."
She laughed. "Oh, don't worry, Kitty – I may call you that, mayn't I? – don't get offended, you must know I try to get a rude retort out of everyone!"
"I wonder you should tell me so, if you wish to do so!"
She laughed pleasantly. "Oh no," said she, "I feel we shall deal extremely well together – that's why I'm telling you pleasantly what other people only speculate about. Did you know I am the root of a lot of gossip?"
"I had an idea," I said carefully.
"Yes, most people do," she sighed. "It isn't like I start gossip purposefully. Ever since I arrived in this district and didn't come to church, everyone has thought me some diabolical force that must be downtrodden."
"Doing it a little too brown!" I said with asperity. "People may gossip about you, in fact, I'm sure they do, but I hardly think they see you as such a thing!"
She smiled. "You see right through me, don't you? I'm sorry if that was a little die-away. However, I am trying to paint a picture of your character in my mind, and I find that this sort of probing creates a very clear painting. If I said, what sort of character are you, Miss Catherine Bennet, you would reply with what you think you are. But this way I can see exactly what you are, without any bias on your side."
"Hmm, very clever," I said, nibbling on a nut from a bag she had offered me. "Rather dishonest, I could say, but still, actually quite clever."
"You are not at all impressed with me," she said. "You must remember I am several years your senior and know much more than you!"
"Oh, quite the contrary," I replied.
"Do you mean to my first comment, or my second?"
"Both, I should imagine. I am, of course, impressed with you. And I know much more than you in some matters. Like decorating bonnets, for instance."
She laughed. "Oh well, how can I stand up to that? I recant all that I said, Kitty."
She is altogether very agreeable, and although she is rather unorthodox, I like her. Reading over that last sentence, I find myself laughing at the absurdity of it – that I, Kitty Bennet, sister of Lydia Wickham, should say 'although she is rather unorthodox, I like her'. In the past that was not an 'although' but a 'because'. I must have grown up a significant amount since last year.
However, I must carry on to the rest of the picnic (which was vastly agreeable!). We arrived at Falconhurst Hill about half an hour after leaving Gosford Hall and immediately started exploring the caves and promenading the lakeside and climbing over the hill. I went for a walk along the ridge of the hill with Louisa Tait, Sir Thomas and Mr Wakefield, and although it was quite cold and windy, I enjoyed every minute of it. Sir Thomas was excessively attentive, and Louisa in high spirits, and even though Mr Wakefield had a permanent small smile on his face at Sir Thomas making a cake of himself, I managed to have a very agreeable talk with him also. They are all excellent people – Louisa all that is friendly and amiable and vivacious, Sir Thomas gallant and witty, and Mr Wakefield so . . . unreadable? No, he is not, I could read that smile perfectly. No, he is all that is dignified and bending, he is all that is funny and serious, he is all that is curious and calm.
I never know how to describe him. You will begin to think him a nonentity, an imaginary man. He isn't. He has quality. That is all I can say. He fascinates me, for the very reason that I cannot describe him. He seems separated from most people. Everyone likes him, he is sought after for every social event, but he is different to them.
Anyhow, (tossing aside that pensive and thoughtful moment for the more mundane Facts of Life), then we all found our way back to the lakeside, sheltered at the mouth of the largest cave, and ate a picnic which had been prepared by the hands of Lord Gosford's excellent cook. Delicious!
Then came the exciting part which I have been longing to come to for an age now. But my innate sense of good penmanship (ho ho!) has forbidden me to jump straight to the climax. And so here it is now!!!! Prepare yourself to be shocked and amazed.
I was walking along the lakeside with Lady Posy when she dared me to walk across an old rickety bridge that stretched across the lake. It was a little rotten looking, and many boards had fallen through, but I, being a fool, gamely agreed to. I set off across the bridge at a steady pace, and was actually much more frightened on the bridge than on dry land, but I didn't want to look like a little frightened child, even if I felt like one, so I kept on going. I reached halfway, I turned around, and Lady Posy called "You're nearly there!" I cheered, the bridge broke, and I fell into the deepest part of the lake.
Deepest water and deepest terror engulfed me. My whole life seemed to flash before my eyes, as I have heard people say before. I had never tried swimming in my life and found, to my horror, that I could manage nothing now, in my billowing dress and heavy boots. I found myself thinking, while I fought desperately to catch a few gasps of air as I bobbed up and down in the water, that I wasn't a very good Christian, and where would I go? Heaven, or the other place? Total despair. And then arms grabbed me and pulled me to the surface; he had dived in to rescue me, Lord Gosford was holding me up in the water saying my name over and over. I must confess I was quite in shock, and very limp and listless, and pints of water were streaming from me. He must have been quite worried. I woke up suddenly though, when I realised I was soaked, I had almost drowned, and I was in the arms of Lord Gosford. "Stupid girl!" he said mock-sternly. "Whatever possessed you to do such a thing?"
"I don't know," I whispered. I felt very cold and white.
He looked at me sympathetically. "You poor girl, you must get warm as soon as possible." I realised he was swimming back to shore with me, where all the others were waiting, gasping and shrieking. But all I could think about was that Lord Gosford's arms were around me, and I blushed when I realised the effect water would have had on my white dress.
I found eventually that Alice Brandon had fainted, and that Georgiana was in tears. Everyone was white and shaking; imagine if Lord Gosford had not saved me! "How would we have ever told your sister?" asked Posy miserably. "And it was all my fault too! I am so sorry, Kitty!"
I was now sitting at the mouth of a cave with Mr Wakefield's coat on (he had very generously and selflessly given it up to me) and a blanket around me, and Lord Gosford had taken off his wet coat and shirt and wrapped a blanket around himself also. "We must go home," he said. "I dread what Mrs Darcy will say! Miss Bennet, I will take you in my carriage."
We were the only ones in his carriage, as it would have been very uncomfortable to try and fit others in while we two were swarmed in blankets. "You should probably try to sleep, Miss Bennet," he said. He seemed so concerned and affectionate!
But I insisted that I wanted to stay awake, and though my eyes closed several times in reflection, I maintained this determination. Finally, I burst out, "Oh, Lord Gosford, thank you for saving me! I was utterly terrified until you came!"
He smiled at me, took my hand, and kissed it, and I felt such a shiver running through me that I found it hard not to jump in shock. He continued to show me unexampled kindness, sweetness and affection, and by the time I left that carriage – I will say no more at present.
Lizzy and Mr Darcy are shocked, of course, and very concerned about me, but finally I managed to convince them that I am fine. So Lizzy took my up to bedroom, helped me change into my thickest flannel nightgown, put a hot brick in my bed, and brought me chicken soup, and now I am drinking the soup in bed, feeling deliciously appreciated, warm, and safe while I write.
Diary – there is no more confusion for me now. Lord Gosford it has to be. There can be no other alternative. He is a hero. I think I must be in love, for whenever I think of him, my heart flutters and I feel very weak and need to eat more soup.
I do hope he will come and visit me soon! He said he would call in tomorrow to see how I do. Tomorrow cannot come too quickly.
Thursday April 9
I did not write for several days, because Tuesday and Wednesday have been spent madly rushing around Pemberley, Lambton and Derbyshire helping Lizzy. The silly woman has decided only now that it is time to 'get things ready' for the baby. Ominous words. She is rather swollen around the middle and is unfortunately quite content to sit in an armchair looking like an apple, ordering me round. Of course she is very polite and grateful about it, but she is desperate to get things done. I can't think why she left it this late, or why Mr Darcy allowed her to, but now all the harrowing work has been left to me. Honestly, it is like Bedlam in here.
First I had to call in the painters and carpenters and so on, and ask them for suggestions for the nursery, which has not been used in years. Then I had to communicate these suggestions to Elizabeth, who waved them away at once, suggesting her own ideas. Then her ideas were pooh-poohed by Mr Darcy, leading to a long and explosive argument, in which I tried to mediate. (Of course they enjoy arguing and would stop at once if either party's feelings were hurt. Which does not make my job easier, because neither's emotions were crushed in the course of the argument.) I mildly suggested a few things, and then the builders suggested a few more, and then finally something was settled on, and work began.
Secondly, I took the carriage into Lambton and feverishly sorted through all the shops for materials, baby clothes, other necessities, buying everything I saw as I was not sure what Elizabeth would like. I placed an order at the carpenter's for wooden toys. I asked the dressmaker to come to Pemberley at some point in the afternoon.
Thirdly, I had to talk to a lawyer about birth plans and wills and so on, because Mr Darcy was busy with his bailiff, and I even had to try and remember the information outside of the few brief titbits I managed to jot down. If you are in any way acquainted with me, you will know I have no taste – no taste WHATSOEVER – for the law, and it bores me to tears. This is all while Elizabeth pleaded off, saying she was tired, for heaven's sake, and sat down with a piece of embroidery and a cup of tea. Really, is it possible to be so foolish that you rely on Kitty Bennet, Peacock Extraordinaire, to handle your legal life?
Then the dressmaker came and I had to sit with her and Elizabeth and organise what clothes should be made. This was much harder than it may seem, as every time a picture or example was brought out, Elizabeth threatened to make noises and exclaim over how small each little cardigan or suit was to the point where we would not have been finished until midnight. I therefore had to detract her attention to other things, and we finally finished about two and a half hours later, by which time my head was sick and exhausted from all that quick thinking.
Right throughout this I was called on numerous occasions into the nursery to supervise procedures that I know nothing about and give advice without any idea of Elizabeth's feelings. It was enough to turn me into a nervous wreck. At least Georgiana helped me on this; she has enough artistic sense to fill a palace.
Then on Wednesday there was still more work to be done. Lizzy was having small pains in her stomach, and although she was not disturbed greatly, Mr Darcy was, and he sent for the doctor from Lambton. I had to stay with Lizzy throughout this, running as fast as I could to fetch instruments and hot water and so on whenever the doctor asked me. Then Lizzy and Mr Darcy went into raptures when the doctor told them they're having twins, and they all waltzed off and I was left to clean up, feeling very ill-used – although, of course, it is exciting that they will have twins! Imagine, two little screaming, dirty infants who are both convinced they are desperate for food, cleaning, sleep, in fact anything – ALL the time!
I then had to go into Lambton with messages, requests and orders that Elizabeth had forgotten before. Beef salami and nutmeg for Lizzy; (she was having cravings); to the carpenter's with an order for a cradle; more paint so the painters could finish the nursery; a second time to the carpenter's with an order for a bureau; to the upholsterer's with an old armchair Elizabeth thought would be lovely in the nursery; to the haberdashery store for fabric that would suit the armchair and the nursery; to the drapers for curtains – and more.
And then I met one of those fusty women from church who proceeded to imply to me almost directly that I was setting my cap at Lord Gosford, and at Mr Beaupays, and at Sir Thomas, and then to assure me that Lord Gosford meant to marry in the nobility, and that Sir Thomas loved to flirt but seldom meant it seriously, and that Mr Beaupays was in love with her fourteen-year- old daughter Charlotte, (a very improbable scenario as Charlotte was not even out, nor had she ever talked to Mr Beaupays, who regarded her with civil disdain), and that Mr Montgomery was a lazy good-for-nothing. I endured it as best I could but was not able to extract myself politely – and the scandal there would have been had I been impolite! - until I saw Alice Brandon walking out of Hart's, the haberdashery store, and was able to lie that I had a message to give Miss Brandon from Mrs Darcy and must run after her. For goodness' sake, I had not even been introduced to the woman, I still don't know her name, and she takes it upon herself to act in the place of my sister! The self-importance of some people I will never understand.
My meeting with Alice was one of the only good points of the day. We talked animatedly for a while, several whiles in fact, but then she saw Mr Winter going into the grocery store, and suddenly remembered she had an urgent errand from her mother to buy a cucumber. I saw her coming out several minutes later, arm in arm with Mr Winter, patently lacking a cucumber. But I am not at all offended, rather I am pleased that such a sweet, good girl can be wicked enough to do such a thing! I wonder if Georgiana would do anything of the kind ever. I seriously doubt it, but as you know, nothing is impossible. With faith one can move mountains.
Wednesday evening I had to assist Lizzy again and sew and sew and sew and sew. I have never been a sewer, although I am such an accomplished hat- decorator, and it is the slowest work ever. I found myself drooping over like a wilted flower by the time we had finished, and I had to drag myself to bed.
But today is the picnic! We are leaving in some forty minutes. I must own I am extremely excited.
That evening
I have just arrived back from the picnic on Falconhurst Hill, and have dived into the house, said good afternoon to my sister and her husband, and after the necessary commotion which I will explain later, have finally escaped, changed into warm clothes and picked up my pen to write down to you all of what has happened today. I think it is very good!!!!
Well, everybody met at Lord Gosford's mansion, Gosford House – which is WONDERFULLY amazingly splendid, by the way – and I shared a carriage with Lady Posy Canon and with Mr Montgomery. Mr Montgomery was too lazy to talk and so I spent the trip getting to know Lady Posy more and she is perfectly enchanting! Still rather wicked, I must admit.
"Oh, Miss Bennet," she sighed, with a wicked little glint in her eye. "I was disappointed to hear you were at church on Sunday."
"Why ever so?" I asked blankly.
"In my opinion, all the people who condone church are old fusties," she said. "I stay home in protest."
"Well, that's rather silly!" I replied frankly. "All of the people going on this expedition today were at church on Sunday! I admit church has not always been one of the highlights of my life, but it is starting to grow on me, and I'm not ashamed to say so."
She laughed. "Oh, don't worry, Kitty – I may call you that, mayn't I? – don't get offended, you must know I try to get a rude retort out of everyone!"
"I wonder you should tell me so, if you wish to do so!"
She laughed pleasantly. "Oh no," said she, "I feel we shall deal extremely well together – that's why I'm telling you pleasantly what other people only speculate about. Did you know I am the root of a lot of gossip?"
"I had an idea," I said carefully.
"Yes, most people do," she sighed. "It isn't like I start gossip purposefully. Ever since I arrived in this district and didn't come to church, everyone has thought me some diabolical force that must be downtrodden."
"Doing it a little too brown!" I said with asperity. "People may gossip about you, in fact, I'm sure they do, but I hardly think they see you as such a thing!"
She smiled. "You see right through me, don't you? I'm sorry if that was a little die-away. However, I am trying to paint a picture of your character in my mind, and I find that this sort of probing creates a very clear painting. If I said, what sort of character are you, Miss Catherine Bennet, you would reply with what you think you are. But this way I can see exactly what you are, without any bias on your side."
"Hmm, very clever," I said, nibbling on a nut from a bag she had offered me. "Rather dishonest, I could say, but still, actually quite clever."
"You are not at all impressed with me," she said. "You must remember I am several years your senior and know much more than you!"
"Oh, quite the contrary," I replied.
"Do you mean to my first comment, or my second?"
"Both, I should imagine. I am, of course, impressed with you. And I know much more than you in some matters. Like decorating bonnets, for instance."
She laughed. "Oh well, how can I stand up to that? I recant all that I said, Kitty."
She is altogether very agreeable, and although she is rather unorthodox, I like her. Reading over that last sentence, I find myself laughing at the absurdity of it – that I, Kitty Bennet, sister of Lydia Wickham, should say 'although she is rather unorthodox, I like her'. In the past that was not an 'although' but a 'because'. I must have grown up a significant amount since last year.
However, I must carry on to the rest of the picnic (which was vastly agreeable!). We arrived at Falconhurst Hill about half an hour after leaving Gosford Hall and immediately started exploring the caves and promenading the lakeside and climbing over the hill. I went for a walk along the ridge of the hill with Louisa Tait, Sir Thomas and Mr Wakefield, and although it was quite cold and windy, I enjoyed every minute of it. Sir Thomas was excessively attentive, and Louisa in high spirits, and even though Mr Wakefield had a permanent small smile on his face at Sir Thomas making a cake of himself, I managed to have a very agreeable talk with him also. They are all excellent people – Louisa all that is friendly and amiable and vivacious, Sir Thomas gallant and witty, and Mr Wakefield so . . . unreadable? No, he is not, I could read that smile perfectly. No, he is all that is dignified and bending, he is all that is funny and serious, he is all that is curious and calm.
I never know how to describe him. You will begin to think him a nonentity, an imaginary man. He isn't. He has quality. That is all I can say. He fascinates me, for the very reason that I cannot describe him. He seems separated from most people. Everyone likes him, he is sought after for every social event, but he is different to them.
Anyhow, (tossing aside that pensive and thoughtful moment for the more mundane Facts of Life), then we all found our way back to the lakeside, sheltered at the mouth of the largest cave, and ate a picnic which had been prepared by the hands of Lord Gosford's excellent cook. Delicious!
Then came the exciting part which I have been longing to come to for an age now. But my innate sense of good penmanship (ho ho!) has forbidden me to jump straight to the climax. And so here it is now!!!! Prepare yourself to be shocked and amazed.
I was walking along the lakeside with Lady Posy when she dared me to walk across an old rickety bridge that stretched across the lake. It was a little rotten looking, and many boards had fallen through, but I, being a fool, gamely agreed to. I set off across the bridge at a steady pace, and was actually much more frightened on the bridge than on dry land, but I didn't want to look like a little frightened child, even if I felt like one, so I kept on going. I reached halfway, I turned around, and Lady Posy called "You're nearly there!" I cheered, the bridge broke, and I fell into the deepest part of the lake.
Deepest water and deepest terror engulfed me. My whole life seemed to flash before my eyes, as I have heard people say before. I had never tried swimming in my life and found, to my horror, that I could manage nothing now, in my billowing dress and heavy boots. I found myself thinking, while I fought desperately to catch a few gasps of air as I bobbed up and down in the water, that I wasn't a very good Christian, and where would I go? Heaven, or the other place? Total despair. And then arms grabbed me and pulled me to the surface; he had dived in to rescue me, Lord Gosford was holding me up in the water saying my name over and over. I must confess I was quite in shock, and very limp and listless, and pints of water were streaming from me. He must have been quite worried. I woke up suddenly though, when I realised I was soaked, I had almost drowned, and I was in the arms of Lord Gosford. "Stupid girl!" he said mock-sternly. "Whatever possessed you to do such a thing?"
"I don't know," I whispered. I felt very cold and white.
He looked at me sympathetically. "You poor girl, you must get warm as soon as possible." I realised he was swimming back to shore with me, where all the others were waiting, gasping and shrieking. But all I could think about was that Lord Gosford's arms were around me, and I blushed when I realised the effect water would have had on my white dress.
I found eventually that Alice Brandon had fainted, and that Georgiana was in tears. Everyone was white and shaking; imagine if Lord Gosford had not saved me! "How would we have ever told your sister?" asked Posy miserably. "And it was all my fault too! I am so sorry, Kitty!"
I was now sitting at the mouth of a cave with Mr Wakefield's coat on (he had very generously and selflessly given it up to me) and a blanket around me, and Lord Gosford had taken off his wet coat and shirt and wrapped a blanket around himself also. "We must go home," he said. "I dread what Mrs Darcy will say! Miss Bennet, I will take you in my carriage."
We were the only ones in his carriage, as it would have been very uncomfortable to try and fit others in while we two were swarmed in blankets. "You should probably try to sleep, Miss Bennet," he said. He seemed so concerned and affectionate!
But I insisted that I wanted to stay awake, and though my eyes closed several times in reflection, I maintained this determination. Finally, I burst out, "Oh, Lord Gosford, thank you for saving me! I was utterly terrified until you came!"
He smiled at me, took my hand, and kissed it, and I felt such a shiver running through me that I found it hard not to jump in shock. He continued to show me unexampled kindness, sweetness and affection, and by the time I left that carriage – I will say no more at present.
Lizzy and Mr Darcy are shocked, of course, and very concerned about me, but finally I managed to convince them that I am fine. So Lizzy took my up to bedroom, helped me change into my thickest flannel nightgown, put a hot brick in my bed, and brought me chicken soup, and now I am drinking the soup in bed, feeling deliciously appreciated, warm, and safe while I write.
Diary – there is no more confusion for me now. Lord Gosford it has to be. There can be no other alternative. He is a hero. I think I must be in love, for whenever I think of him, my heart flutters and I feel very weak and need to eat more soup.
I do hope he will come and visit me soon! He said he would call in tomorrow to see how I do. Tomorrow cannot come too quickly.