CHAPTER TEN
Monday May 4
I saw Mr Montgomery today. My wicked plan worked! – although it was not so satisfying as I had hoped. And I saw him yesterday also, but that is not nearly so exciting, because today I schemed, and today some very thrilling things happened. However, as this is a diary and not a randomly assorted collection of mixed-up pieces of paper, I am going to steel myself and write my entry in chronological order.
Yesterday I went to church, rebuffed Mr Beaupays, and spoke to Mr Montgomery for about five minutes about not very much because he speaks quite slowly. There. I have done my duty. Oh, and also Mr Wakefield gave a very good sermon, as usual. Lizzy does not come to church now because she is so big with child. Or children, in this case. Mr Darcy hates leaving her.
Today! Today I was truly designing and artful, like the wicked girls in novels, and I hatched a plan to catch Mr Montgomery in town! First thing in the morning, after an agreeable sleep-in, I took the carriage into Lambton with Betty, my maidservant, in the pretence of needing to go shopping, and to the lending-library, and all manner of things. Betty is a very excitable girl of a romantic temperament, and she was only too happy to sit on the green and watch for Mr Montgomery. It must have been a boring morning for any girl who has only a moderate sense of romance, but I tell you the truth when I say that to Betty, sitting in the same place for a whole morning and taking part in a romantic conspiracy is an idea of heaven. I am forever nervous that Betty will fall violently in love with someone highly unsuitable like Mr Darcy, just for the simple reason that he is miles above her in the social hierarchy and married to someone else. She would count it an honour to assist me to elope with anyone, no matter how unsuitable or undesirable they were; if I told her I was to elope with Mr Wakefield the clergyman, for heavens' sake, she would not bat an eyelid and instead throw her whole heart into it and declare to me that she would never forsake my cause, or something rather dramatic like that. It's like she lives, breathes, and feeds on scandal.
But she is a very good maid, and she knows how to do hair in most attractive manners. All her romantics and die-aways, while sometimes rather frustrating, mostly just serve to amuse me.
What am I thinking? Sometimes I go so completely off the subject of conversation I confuse even myself – especially myself! I was saying, Betty was look-out for Mr Montgomery. I was to go around each shop, spending as much time as possible in each one so that I could be sure of seeing Mr Montgomery if he came to Lambton, at whatever time. When Betty saw him coming, she was to run to whatever shop I was in, I was to watch until he came near and then time precisely my bursting out of the shop, ostensibly to get someone's advice on a certain matter – of course, he would be the nearest person, and I would have to demand his service, which, of course, he would be only too happy to give.
There were a few minor glitches in the plan, in that when Betty saw him, she gave a little shriek, sprinted in the most obvious manner to the carpenter's where I was, opened the door, gasped "Miss Bennet – it's him!" to the whole shop, at that moment full of customers. Of course, my cheeks went deeply red, embarrassingly enough. That was the first glitch, and so because the whole store was now watching me curiously to find out who the latest 'he' was, I could not bring myself to burst out the door and drag the poor man inside and expose us both to ridicule.
So I waited, my mind thundering at Betty's lack of subtlety. I finally left the shop and changed to the lending-library, where I managed to lean on a dark, friendly bookshelf and gather my defences for a moment. To my great pleasure, he came around the corner of the shelves at this point, saw me leaning back on the shelf, raising my eyes to the heavens and breathing deeply, and he said, in that slow, languid way – "Miss Bennet! I am very glad to see you! But are you quite well?"
I, momentarily surprised, sprung upwards, but soon recovered my equilibrium. "Oh, I-I'm fine, thank you. And yourself?"
He thought for a moment. "I'm good."
"Well," I said after a pause. "That's good."
"Are you looking for books?" he said with a smile.
Don't misunderstand me, I like him very much, but if one goes into a lending-library, and is at that current moment holding several books, one expects others to know without needing to ask that yes, one is looking for books. However, that cherubic, white-toothed smile of his goes a long way in reconciling me to that temporary lapse in intelligence.
"Yes, I am looking for books," I said dryly. "Have you read this one?" I held it up.
"Yes, I have."
"Did you like it, sir?"
"It was good."
I don't know what to make of him sometimes – he smiles so brilliantly and says the dullest things. "But I am finished now!" I smiled brilliantly at him – have you ever noticed that amazing smiles on the faces of other people are infectious? "Will you come and walk with me outside?"
He smiled back. "Of course, Miss Bennet."
We quickly edged out of the library; the librarian was looking at us suspiciously for talking in the rows. "How is your estate, Mr Montgomery?"
"Good," he said, ambling along slower than I ever dawdle.
To my embarrassment, we walked past Betty, who gave me a huge smile and a little squeal of excitement. I hope I am not the sort of person to condescend to those below me, but she really does forget her place sometimes. I don't think he noticed though. He doesn't seem to notice much. To think that I thought he was needle-witted when I first met him! Maybe it was his smiles. He is, nonetheless, very amiable though, I suppose.
Suddenly Mrs Brandon, Alice's mother, came wobbling over to me as fast as her legs could carry her. "Miss Bennet! Oh, Miss Bennet!" she panted.
"What is it?" I asked, amused. Mrs Brandon gets in a flutter at the slightest thing, and it is really quite funny when she does, for she is so fat and round and red.
"Oh, Miss Bennet!" she gasped again, flapping her hands around. "The physician!"
"The physician?" I prompted her.
"Oh my, what a to-do . . . he has just left for Pemberley! Mrs Darcy . . . entered her confinement! He told me as he rushed for his carriage, and then I saw you and knew that Mrs Darcy would need you and thought, now, I must tell Miss Bennet, and –"she jabbered.
"Elizabeth has entered her confinement?" I asked, shocked.
"Yes, yes!" she said, waving her hands around. "And you must go at once, for the physician left quite ten minutes ago, and if I had known you were here, I would have quite sprinted to tell you, and –"
"Thank you, Mrs Brandon," I said firmly, sounding much more calm than I felt. I thought for a moment, and remembered that the carriage was not to come back for me for another half-hour. I turned hastily to Mr Montgomery. "Oh, sir, will you take me to Pemberley? I know it would be a great inconvenience, but I would be eternally grateful if you could."
"Of course, Miss Bennet," he said, although he sounded a tiny little bit reluctant.
I told Betty, who, wide-eyed, had run over at the very hint of scandal or mystery, to wait for the carriage and tell them where I had gone, and then I followed Mr Montgomery, who was walking maddeningly slowly to his carriage. I jumped up beside him, and he proceeded to drive through Lambton at a snail's pace, while everything inside me, beside him, steamed and strained to be galloping towards Pemberley as fast as it was possible to imagine.
We trotted along the country road, I clenching my fists as he leaned back lazily in the driver's seat. I could not believe it when he said, "Oh, it's a beautiful day, isn't it? I hope those rain clouds in the east don't come this way."
I gritted my teeth and replied, "Sir, do you think it would be possible to go just a tiny bit faster?"
"Faster?" He looked at me looking confused, and then his forehead unfurled. "Oh! I see, you want to get to Pemberley to see your sister. Well, I understand completely, but I don't much want to take this road any faster."
I don't know how I handled sitting there beside him, knowing quite well that if I took the reins, we would be off in a moment and at Pemberley in several minutes. It was torture. The entire time I was thinking of Lizzy going through pain, and Mr Darcy in spasms of worry, and Georgiana about to faint, and I knew I had to be there! My thoughts raged at Mr Montgomery and I must tell you now, I knew then that he could not be the one for me.
After a veritable age, we arrived through the gates. I jumped down before he had stopped, flung a curt "Thank you!" at him, and ran inside. The butler told me where they all were, and I rushed upstairs to see Mr Darcy coming towards me with an ecstatic grin on his face.
"Kitty! Oh, Kitty!" he said. "They are here, the twins are here! Elizabeth is fine!"
It was the biggest shock and let-down of my life. I had been imagining all manner of terrible fates; my sister dead, the twins dead, Mr Darcy dead with worry, Georgiana practically dead after fainting all over the place... I thought at least that I would be desperately needed! But no! They didn't even need me to hold Lizzy's hand! And instead of at least someone dead, everyone was fine, and the babies were born in less than two hours. I had been imagining at least two days of pain, screams and worry – especially with the babies born a couple of weeks early.
I very graciously congratulated him while my insides felt like worms fighting the Battle of Waterloo, and he ushered me into the room where Elizabeth lay on the bed, a little white, holding two bundles and smiling rapturously. Georgiana stood at her side looking adoringly down at the bundles, and the doctor and midwife stood across the room smiling.
"Kitty," Lizzy smiled, and nodded to me to come and see the babies. All my senseless anger evaporated, (why had I felt so angry, anyway?), and I drifted slowly across the room, almost nervous to look at the two small lumps who had caused all this hubbub.
Two little round faces framed with dark curls, sleeping eyes tight shut, pink little lips and rosy cheeks. Beautiful and perfect as angels. I simply stared at them, my mouth open in a small involuntary smile. WHAM – just like that, Kitty is besotted. I, who had detested the very thought of babies. Lizzy and Mr Darcy watched my face, smiling also.
"Do you like them?" asked Mr Darcy.
"Oh yes," I breathed.
"They are beautiful," agreed Georgiana, obviously awe-struck and almost breathless.
I looked at Lizzy and smiled. "I wish I could have been here."
"Oh, I do too," she said, "but to tell the truth, I think now that it's over I cannot remember a thing of it."
I bent down and kissed her cheek. Suddenly I straightened up again. "Lizzy," I said cautiously, "what are they?"
"Human beings, with any luck," replied Lizzy with an amused smile.
"No, no, you beast," I laughed. "Boy, girl, what?"
"This," said Lizzy, stroking one's head, "is a boy. And this," kissing the other's, "is a girl."
"Do you have names for them yet?" I asked, looking to-and-fro between Mr Darcy and Elizabeth.
"Yes, we do," he replied. "My son here," (with relish), "is Ernest Fitzwilliam Darcy, and this little girl here is Isobel Janet Darcy." He smiled at Lizzy. "I wanted her middle name to be Elizabeth, but my wife here insisted she be named after her aunt Jane."
"Well, after all, Lizzy did the hard work," I said.
"Two hours labour? I call that very easy work," he grinned, teasing her.
"Oh, you," she said threateningly. "If I was allowed to get out of this bed . . ."
I am so excited about the twins that now it is midnight and I still cannot get to sleep. Georgiana slipped into my room about an hour ago and we shared a breathless conversation about how the twins were the most perfect niece and nephew ever seen, and I gloated over her that my sister Jane was newly pregnant and I would be getting another baby to adore – and hand back to the parent when they started crying!
Georgiana smiled. "It won't be the same."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, Kitty, this is the first time you have looked at a baby that is your own flesh and blood, and you are blown away by it and completely knocked over with love. In the future you will judge every niece and nephew by these two, until you have your own baby, or babies, and then you will wonder how you could ever have said that no baby could be more perfect than Ernest and Isobel were."
I stared. It was the longest speech I had ever heard Georgiana utter. After an amazed pause I smiled a little bitterly. "I don't know if I will ever have children."
"Why not?" Georgiana asked.
"Well, Lord Gosford is a scoundrel, Sir Thomas repulses me because he is simply too old, Mr Beaupays is too frivolous, and Mr Montgomery drives me out of my wits. I don't think I'll ever marry."
Georgiana raised her eyebrows. "Oh," she said gently. "Are you sure you're not missing someone out?"
I thought hard for a moment. "I'm sure."
She got up, smiling. "I'll let you discover for yourself." Then she left the room.
I am completely confused.
But now I think again of Ernest and Isobel, and a little smile comes over my face, and a warmth rises up inside me, and I think of perhaps one day holding my own little bundle, and knowing that it's mine, and watching it grow up, as I will not be able to do with Ernest and Isobel – I will see them in short bursts and long waits – and cuddling it as much as I want, and . . . all those things.
I am coming across disgustingly sentimental and domesticated tonight. It is really quite shocking for someone like me.
May 4 – the birthday of Ernest Fitzwilliam Darcy and Isobel Janet Darcy. How well that sounds!
Monday May 4
I saw Mr Montgomery today. My wicked plan worked! – although it was not so satisfying as I had hoped. And I saw him yesterday also, but that is not nearly so exciting, because today I schemed, and today some very thrilling things happened. However, as this is a diary and not a randomly assorted collection of mixed-up pieces of paper, I am going to steel myself and write my entry in chronological order.
Yesterday I went to church, rebuffed Mr Beaupays, and spoke to Mr Montgomery for about five minutes about not very much because he speaks quite slowly. There. I have done my duty. Oh, and also Mr Wakefield gave a very good sermon, as usual. Lizzy does not come to church now because she is so big with child. Or children, in this case. Mr Darcy hates leaving her.
Today! Today I was truly designing and artful, like the wicked girls in novels, and I hatched a plan to catch Mr Montgomery in town! First thing in the morning, after an agreeable sleep-in, I took the carriage into Lambton with Betty, my maidservant, in the pretence of needing to go shopping, and to the lending-library, and all manner of things. Betty is a very excitable girl of a romantic temperament, and she was only too happy to sit on the green and watch for Mr Montgomery. It must have been a boring morning for any girl who has only a moderate sense of romance, but I tell you the truth when I say that to Betty, sitting in the same place for a whole morning and taking part in a romantic conspiracy is an idea of heaven. I am forever nervous that Betty will fall violently in love with someone highly unsuitable like Mr Darcy, just for the simple reason that he is miles above her in the social hierarchy and married to someone else. She would count it an honour to assist me to elope with anyone, no matter how unsuitable or undesirable they were; if I told her I was to elope with Mr Wakefield the clergyman, for heavens' sake, she would not bat an eyelid and instead throw her whole heart into it and declare to me that she would never forsake my cause, or something rather dramatic like that. It's like she lives, breathes, and feeds on scandal.
But she is a very good maid, and she knows how to do hair in most attractive manners. All her romantics and die-aways, while sometimes rather frustrating, mostly just serve to amuse me.
What am I thinking? Sometimes I go so completely off the subject of conversation I confuse even myself – especially myself! I was saying, Betty was look-out for Mr Montgomery. I was to go around each shop, spending as much time as possible in each one so that I could be sure of seeing Mr Montgomery if he came to Lambton, at whatever time. When Betty saw him coming, she was to run to whatever shop I was in, I was to watch until he came near and then time precisely my bursting out of the shop, ostensibly to get someone's advice on a certain matter – of course, he would be the nearest person, and I would have to demand his service, which, of course, he would be only too happy to give.
There were a few minor glitches in the plan, in that when Betty saw him, she gave a little shriek, sprinted in the most obvious manner to the carpenter's where I was, opened the door, gasped "Miss Bennet – it's him!" to the whole shop, at that moment full of customers. Of course, my cheeks went deeply red, embarrassingly enough. That was the first glitch, and so because the whole store was now watching me curiously to find out who the latest 'he' was, I could not bring myself to burst out the door and drag the poor man inside and expose us both to ridicule.
So I waited, my mind thundering at Betty's lack of subtlety. I finally left the shop and changed to the lending-library, where I managed to lean on a dark, friendly bookshelf and gather my defences for a moment. To my great pleasure, he came around the corner of the shelves at this point, saw me leaning back on the shelf, raising my eyes to the heavens and breathing deeply, and he said, in that slow, languid way – "Miss Bennet! I am very glad to see you! But are you quite well?"
I, momentarily surprised, sprung upwards, but soon recovered my equilibrium. "Oh, I-I'm fine, thank you. And yourself?"
He thought for a moment. "I'm good."
"Well," I said after a pause. "That's good."
"Are you looking for books?" he said with a smile.
Don't misunderstand me, I like him very much, but if one goes into a lending-library, and is at that current moment holding several books, one expects others to know without needing to ask that yes, one is looking for books. However, that cherubic, white-toothed smile of his goes a long way in reconciling me to that temporary lapse in intelligence.
"Yes, I am looking for books," I said dryly. "Have you read this one?" I held it up.
"Yes, I have."
"Did you like it, sir?"
"It was good."
I don't know what to make of him sometimes – he smiles so brilliantly and says the dullest things. "But I am finished now!" I smiled brilliantly at him – have you ever noticed that amazing smiles on the faces of other people are infectious? "Will you come and walk with me outside?"
He smiled back. "Of course, Miss Bennet."
We quickly edged out of the library; the librarian was looking at us suspiciously for talking in the rows. "How is your estate, Mr Montgomery?"
"Good," he said, ambling along slower than I ever dawdle.
To my embarrassment, we walked past Betty, who gave me a huge smile and a little squeal of excitement. I hope I am not the sort of person to condescend to those below me, but she really does forget her place sometimes. I don't think he noticed though. He doesn't seem to notice much. To think that I thought he was needle-witted when I first met him! Maybe it was his smiles. He is, nonetheless, very amiable though, I suppose.
Suddenly Mrs Brandon, Alice's mother, came wobbling over to me as fast as her legs could carry her. "Miss Bennet! Oh, Miss Bennet!" she panted.
"What is it?" I asked, amused. Mrs Brandon gets in a flutter at the slightest thing, and it is really quite funny when she does, for she is so fat and round and red.
"Oh, Miss Bennet!" she gasped again, flapping her hands around. "The physician!"
"The physician?" I prompted her.
"Oh my, what a to-do . . . he has just left for Pemberley! Mrs Darcy . . . entered her confinement! He told me as he rushed for his carriage, and then I saw you and knew that Mrs Darcy would need you and thought, now, I must tell Miss Bennet, and –"she jabbered.
"Elizabeth has entered her confinement?" I asked, shocked.
"Yes, yes!" she said, waving her hands around. "And you must go at once, for the physician left quite ten minutes ago, and if I had known you were here, I would have quite sprinted to tell you, and –"
"Thank you, Mrs Brandon," I said firmly, sounding much more calm than I felt. I thought for a moment, and remembered that the carriage was not to come back for me for another half-hour. I turned hastily to Mr Montgomery. "Oh, sir, will you take me to Pemberley? I know it would be a great inconvenience, but I would be eternally grateful if you could."
"Of course, Miss Bennet," he said, although he sounded a tiny little bit reluctant.
I told Betty, who, wide-eyed, had run over at the very hint of scandal or mystery, to wait for the carriage and tell them where I had gone, and then I followed Mr Montgomery, who was walking maddeningly slowly to his carriage. I jumped up beside him, and he proceeded to drive through Lambton at a snail's pace, while everything inside me, beside him, steamed and strained to be galloping towards Pemberley as fast as it was possible to imagine.
We trotted along the country road, I clenching my fists as he leaned back lazily in the driver's seat. I could not believe it when he said, "Oh, it's a beautiful day, isn't it? I hope those rain clouds in the east don't come this way."
I gritted my teeth and replied, "Sir, do you think it would be possible to go just a tiny bit faster?"
"Faster?" He looked at me looking confused, and then his forehead unfurled. "Oh! I see, you want to get to Pemberley to see your sister. Well, I understand completely, but I don't much want to take this road any faster."
I don't know how I handled sitting there beside him, knowing quite well that if I took the reins, we would be off in a moment and at Pemberley in several minutes. It was torture. The entire time I was thinking of Lizzy going through pain, and Mr Darcy in spasms of worry, and Georgiana about to faint, and I knew I had to be there! My thoughts raged at Mr Montgomery and I must tell you now, I knew then that he could not be the one for me.
After a veritable age, we arrived through the gates. I jumped down before he had stopped, flung a curt "Thank you!" at him, and ran inside. The butler told me where they all were, and I rushed upstairs to see Mr Darcy coming towards me with an ecstatic grin on his face.
"Kitty! Oh, Kitty!" he said. "They are here, the twins are here! Elizabeth is fine!"
It was the biggest shock and let-down of my life. I had been imagining all manner of terrible fates; my sister dead, the twins dead, Mr Darcy dead with worry, Georgiana practically dead after fainting all over the place... I thought at least that I would be desperately needed! But no! They didn't even need me to hold Lizzy's hand! And instead of at least someone dead, everyone was fine, and the babies were born in less than two hours. I had been imagining at least two days of pain, screams and worry – especially with the babies born a couple of weeks early.
I very graciously congratulated him while my insides felt like worms fighting the Battle of Waterloo, and he ushered me into the room where Elizabeth lay on the bed, a little white, holding two bundles and smiling rapturously. Georgiana stood at her side looking adoringly down at the bundles, and the doctor and midwife stood across the room smiling.
"Kitty," Lizzy smiled, and nodded to me to come and see the babies. All my senseless anger evaporated, (why had I felt so angry, anyway?), and I drifted slowly across the room, almost nervous to look at the two small lumps who had caused all this hubbub.
Two little round faces framed with dark curls, sleeping eyes tight shut, pink little lips and rosy cheeks. Beautiful and perfect as angels. I simply stared at them, my mouth open in a small involuntary smile. WHAM – just like that, Kitty is besotted. I, who had detested the very thought of babies. Lizzy and Mr Darcy watched my face, smiling also.
"Do you like them?" asked Mr Darcy.
"Oh yes," I breathed.
"They are beautiful," agreed Georgiana, obviously awe-struck and almost breathless.
I looked at Lizzy and smiled. "I wish I could have been here."
"Oh, I do too," she said, "but to tell the truth, I think now that it's over I cannot remember a thing of it."
I bent down and kissed her cheek. Suddenly I straightened up again. "Lizzy," I said cautiously, "what are they?"
"Human beings, with any luck," replied Lizzy with an amused smile.
"No, no, you beast," I laughed. "Boy, girl, what?"
"This," said Lizzy, stroking one's head, "is a boy. And this," kissing the other's, "is a girl."
"Do you have names for them yet?" I asked, looking to-and-fro between Mr Darcy and Elizabeth.
"Yes, we do," he replied. "My son here," (with relish), "is Ernest Fitzwilliam Darcy, and this little girl here is Isobel Janet Darcy." He smiled at Lizzy. "I wanted her middle name to be Elizabeth, but my wife here insisted she be named after her aunt Jane."
"Well, after all, Lizzy did the hard work," I said.
"Two hours labour? I call that very easy work," he grinned, teasing her.
"Oh, you," she said threateningly. "If I was allowed to get out of this bed . . ."
I am so excited about the twins that now it is midnight and I still cannot get to sleep. Georgiana slipped into my room about an hour ago and we shared a breathless conversation about how the twins were the most perfect niece and nephew ever seen, and I gloated over her that my sister Jane was newly pregnant and I would be getting another baby to adore – and hand back to the parent when they started crying!
Georgiana smiled. "It won't be the same."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, Kitty, this is the first time you have looked at a baby that is your own flesh and blood, and you are blown away by it and completely knocked over with love. In the future you will judge every niece and nephew by these two, until you have your own baby, or babies, and then you will wonder how you could ever have said that no baby could be more perfect than Ernest and Isobel were."
I stared. It was the longest speech I had ever heard Georgiana utter. After an amazed pause I smiled a little bitterly. "I don't know if I will ever have children."
"Why not?" Georgiana asked.
"Well, Lord Gosford is a scoundrel, Sir Thomas repulses me because he is simply too old, Mr Beaupays is too frivolous, and Mr Montgomery drives me out of my wits. I don't think I'll ever marry."
Georgiana raised her eyebrows. "Oh," she said gently. "Are you sure you're not missing someone out?"
I thought hard for a moment. "I'm sure."
She got up, smiling. "I'll let you discover for yourself." Then she left the room.
I am completely confused.
But now I think again of Ernest and Isobel, and a little smile comes over my face, and a warmth rises up inside me, and I think of perhaps one day holding my own little bundle, and knowing that it's mine, and watching it grow up, as I will not be able to do with Ernest and Isobel – I will see them in short bursts and long waits – and cuddling it as much as I want, and . . . all those things.
I am coming across disgustingly sentimental and domesticated tonight. It is really quite shocking for someone like me.
May 4 – the birthday of Ernest Fitzwilliam Darcy and Isobel Janet Darcy. How well that sounds!