I have no excuse for not having this chapter up soon. For that, I beg forgiveness. Please enjoy!
Oliver gave his bride her promised tour the next day. Her almost constant awe of her new home was refreshing to him. He considered the house she was raised in, and while it wasn't too modest, it was nowhere near the caliber of his estate. He was pleased to realize that her color preferences were not wild, preferring softer tones, which matched with his preferred darker ones. It surprised when he learned she wanted to go and explore the library a bit. Leaving her to her exploration, his grandmother followed him to his study.
"Well, she is young, and her education is severely lacking; she doesn't seem to have a clue as to what to do with herself. Millicent says she has some ideas for her room, but she was concerned that she often compared her tastes to her sisters. What do you make of her now that you have gotten to know her a little better?"
"It is as I thought: she is a very different person when away from her youngest sister. Different away from her family, even. She and her sister, Mary, are not the favorites."
"Hmm. Well, this could work in our favor. I see much potential in her. If it is attention she is lacking, she will find it here. Mrs. Croft, Mrs. Smith, Millicent, and I will be working diligently to see that she adjusts to her new life."
"I appreciate that. What are your plans exactly?"
"Accomplishments are only good for attracting a husband; she doesn't need to do that," she replied blatantly. "Physically, we shall work on her posture and walk. She drags her feet too much and her balance seems precarious. Etiquette and the expectations of society will be a topic we cover most heavily, though she has obviously had some little training. I will ensure that the important aspects of a proper education are filled in as I see the need. Mrs. Croft will help her with the household. We shall be sure she understands that she may delegate jobs to people that she trusts, but that it is still her responsibility to make sure it is being done. It may overwhelm her at first, however, I am confident that she will adjust. First, I shall ensure she is prepared to meet our neighbors."
They chatted a few more minutes, and his grandmother headed to the library to speak with his wife. He sat back and relaxed. He supposed this was the moment he realized that it is all real. He is married to a young woman he would have never considered outside of their circumstances. This could have turned out much worse than it did; at least Catherine seemed to be accepting of the situation, and somewhat accommodating. He pulled a cord and summoned his steward. He figured he might as well put his time to good use.
Kitty sat dumbfounded as she listened to her husband's grandmother lay out all of her responsibilities. There was more to running a house than she had thought. She was responsible for handling the kitchens, the maids, and the household budget. She was to see that the linens, curtains, and upholstery were kept in good repair. Charitable contributions, including clothing and visiting the sick and infirmed, fell on her. Kitty had witnessed her mother discussing household concerns with Mrs. Hill, but she knew her father handled the budget, and she had never seen or heard of her mother being involved with the tenants at all.
She sat in silence as the women before her lined out their plans. Mrs. Croft would attend her as she learned how to run the household. She would first learn how it is already run, and when she felt confident in her abilities, she could begin to include and adjust things for her own preferences. Grandmother and Mrs. Smith then began to tell her of the more personal areas they wished to work with her in. Listening to them, she began to feel quite inadequate. She wondered if there was anything they didn't find lacking about her person. Deciding it was better to keep her thoughts to herself, she merely nodded at them.
As soon as she was able, she excused herself to the gardens. It was quiet outside. There really wasn't much work for the gardeners at this of time year, so she found herself alone. The gardens were larger than Longbourn's, and she had many new paths to tread. As she walked, she tried to think about what to write back to her family; more importantly, who she would write. She doubted Lydia would really care, and she had never been particularly close to Lizzy. 'Perhaps Mary,' she thought, 'or Jane.' She thought she might have been a little unkind to cut Lizzy out, seeing as she had been so kind to her the last few days' she had been in her childhood home. She knew her mother might like to have something to share around the neighborhood. In the end, she decided to send one letter to her family and to see who would take it upon themselves to write to her in return.
She finally found a bench and sat down. Unable to ignore it any longer, Kitty allowed herself to just feel. She was alone. She knew no one at her new home, not really. Hertfordshire was miles away, as were her friends and family, however few they were. There was nothing familiar, and she had just sat through a discussion of what qualities she lacked. As she sat, she began to cry. Being distracted as she was by her feelings, she did not hear the approaching footsteps, so the sound of a throat being cleared startled her. She looked up into the face of her husband, before casting her eyes down, embarrassed. He sat down next to her, holding out a handkerchief, which she accepted.
He shocked her as he began to talk about the gardens, what was planted where. They had taken a short tour of the paths earlier, but he was being far more descriptive now.
"My mother loved the gardens. She lamented the fact that winter would come and her flowers would sleep. My father was going to build her a greenhouse, but she passed before they could decide upon the proper placement. He abandoned the idea afterward, unable to complete it since she was no longer here to enjoy it. I was speaking to my steward just today about moving forward with the plans."
"Do you know where you would like to have it built?"
"I thought, perhaps, over there," he said, indicating a wooden area.
"No! That would be the perfect place for a swing and picnics in the summer," she said, starting to look around the garden. For the moment, she seemed to have forgotten her sorrow. "What about over there? It looks bare and putting something there would fill the space."
He looked thoughtful. "Perhaps. I will have to speak with the master builder. Nothing needs to be decided for a few months yet. Come, it is almost time for tea." He stood and held out his arm for her, which she accepted and walked with him back to the house.
Oliver had, in fact, been discussing the possibility of building the greenhouse with his steward. His study had a nice view of the gardens, and when Mr. Croft left him, he had gone to the window to look about them for a nice placement for the building. That was when he seen his wife walking the paths. He stood and watched her for a while. She finally sat on a bench and he noticed she looked distraught. When he saw her shoulders begin to shake, indicating the degree of her distress, he strode from the room and towards the garden.
He walked steadily to her, then able to hear her sobs. He stood there for a moment before finally deciding action was needed to gain her attention. She looked up at him in shock before glancing down in shame. It was awkward, not knowing what to do with a crying woman, so he sat down and, after offering her his handkerchief, started talking about the garden and his mother's love for it. He mentioned the greenhouse and pointed at a spot he knew his father had once considered. He was a bit surprised when she recommended the spot his mother favored. He ended their discussion and led her back into the house.
As they walked, he found himself more and more curious as to what she had been upset about. She seemed rather perked up at the moment, but he swore he saw a lingering sadness in her eyes.
"If I may inquire, what had upset you?"
Her face grew serious. Keeping her gaze forward, she answered him, though not with the answer he wanted. "It's not something I wish to discuss with you." She stopped and actually looked at him. "I hope that this does not offend you, because I mean no offense, truly."
"You have caused no offense. Our situation has not allowed much room for shared intimacies, however, when you do feel you wish to discuss something with me, or to bring something to my attention, I will be available to you."
"Thank you," she whispered, allowing him to lead her on to the sitting room.