Forgive me if this chapter seems a little oddly constructed from your perspective. Someone might say that they should've been separate, but it didn't happen that way. A lot going on, for Mary and Kitty.

Chapter 20

The good news came from the butler himself, that Miss Bennet's cat had been recovered with the help of good Samaritans. So grateful for their assistance, Mary, as well as Georgiana who rejoined them soon enough, invited the two walkers into the drawing room for tea. This in itself wasn't so unexpected, and Lizzy readied herself and slowly descended the stairs to receive the kind strangers. What a shock, what a chance that these kind strangers were no strangers, but in fact, one of them, a face that Lizzy had lost all hope of ever seeing again.

"Captain Carter!" she cried, delighted. "What a chance! Mary?" Her sister, discoloured and still recovering her own initial shock, could not have been more astonished that he stood in the same room. "Is it true?"

"Yes, as you see, Chop has been safely recovered; all thanks to Miss Carter. Miss Carter, may I introduce my sister, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. They were just out walking in the square, when Chop came right up to them."

"It's a pleasure to be able to meet you again, Mrs. Darcy," he said. "Such a long time. My heartfelt congratulations on your marriage."

"Thank you, captain! My husband shall be joining us shortly. He's just finishing up some business. Will you please sit down? I can't begin to tell you how grateful the whole household is for finding Chop."

"He is a very sweet thing," added Miss Carter. Chop had done with Mary for the moment, and spent his time courting the notice of brother and sister, bumping his head into both pairs of legs, being a shameless beggar for scratches. When the maid arrived, tea was requested and to take Chop to the breakfast room for a hearty meal.

Two years was not exactly twenty years, altering very little about the captain. Perhaps the main physical difference was a rather distinguished beard and mustache, a slightly darker blond than his head, closely cut and fashionable. A very faint scar marked his left temple, which had not been there during the regiment's sojourn in Hertfordshire. Though he was judged in second or third place compared with others, it would be injustice to say he was less handsome than Wickham or his brother officers. Once he recovered himself, while still out in the square, it took all but a minute before that easy temper and high-spirited smile revived. Mary started to breathe easier again; by such manner, by his comfortable and amiable disposition, that last letter he sent seemed like it never was written. He may not have intended, maybe never expected to see them again… see her again. But having been thrown in his way by chance, he did not shrink from it.

The circumstances, also, quite frightened her. At first, the presence of a young lady with the captain suggested only one great change of circumstance. She nearly forgot his telling her, that he was the eldest sibling of three. She was the youngest Miss Carter! And Mary blushed, having ought to have guessed by the remarkable family resemblance: the shape of the nose, the shape of the mouth, both fair in colouring. Handsome facial features, rather much shorter and petite in stature, compared with Mary, Lizzy, and Georgiana. Of all of them, she looked more confused than surprised by the events of the morning. She must have hardly expected to find herself invited into the home of the highly renowned Darcy family, at their house in Grovsnor Square. Judging from their clothing, the siblings had been out on a leisurely stroll that morning.

"Where did you get him from?" asked the captain.

Mary stammered a bit at first but quickly recovered. "He and his brother, Lion, were a gift from my father. They were somehow separated or abandoned by their mother. So, we've had the pleasure of them from just being weeks old."

"How is Mr. Bennet? It's been so long. I don't know if you recall, Ruth?"

"Oh yes! My brother wrote of you all frequently while quartered in Hertfordshire."

"Our father is in good health," answered Mary.

"His same old self?" he asked.

She smiled. "Very much so."

"I've thought about him from time to time… Well, all your family really. How are your sisters?"

"Very well. Not only Lizzy, but Jane is also married. Do you remember Mr. Bingley?"

"Mr. Bingley! I wouldn't have thought it. He'd left so abruptly, and… Well, beg your pardon, that's no matter. I'm delighted to hear it!"

"They've just settled in Nottinghamshire," informed Lizzy. "And have a little son."

"I'm so glad. And what of your younger sisters? I was glad to hear the good news about Miss Lydia. Mrs. Wickham, I should say."

"Kitty is visiting Jane at this time. The Wickhams have settled in the north. He and his regiment were ordered, and he's one of the fortunate few to have survived the major losses at Waterloo."

"Ah, yes… Yes, that was a memory worth forgetting. So many lost."

"Were you sent over too?" inquired Mary.

"Yes. I… I'm sorry to say so many of our mutual acquaintance had fallen. I had the chance, and the misfortune, to be with Colonel Forster at the last."

"We saw his name, and so many others in the papers. We were all very grieved. Not just our family, but throughout Meryton, there was such heartbreak for the men that fell."

Miss Carter touched his forearm. "Luke, you mustn't dwell on it. You'll do yourself no good, and you'll depress them."

"You're right. Forgive me, ladies."

"Are you still with the militia then?" asked Lizzy.

"I'm relieved to say, I am no longer. Though the battle ended in promotion, I confess, I was done with it, surrounded by nothing but death. Terror. Giving bad news to their widows back home… Of course, in my current profession, I'm hardly exempt from that task, but now, it's now in my power to bring good news more often."

Mary steeled herself, braced herself to recall old topics. "Have you finally established a practice here in town then?"

"… Not quite yet. Right now, I'm working alongside in partnership with London's top surgeon. I don't know, perhaps, you've heard of Dr. Munst. I believe he also in the same fellowship with—With the other physician, that I spoke of before."

Ever so delicate, even though the three ladies of the house knew he spoke of Dr. Reis. Mary expressed her pleasure to hear it, and would've inquired more into his partner's practice, if not for the interruption of Mr. Darcy's appearance. He warned Lizzy, having encountered him in the foyer, of the approach of Mr. Cummings. Mary did not miss the falling of Lizzy's features, nor the quick glance in her own direction. Both of them, the only ones in the room, discerned the gravity of it. Before Lizzy could ask her husband to defer him to another room, buying a few minutes of time, the butler entered and announced the new arrival. For the keen observer of human nature, the profiles presented across the drawing room setting, offered plenty to study. Three of the seven occupants were completely at ease. Two of the seven shared a secret that they were desperate to conceal. One felt himself out of place, and one was indeed out of place.

It was quickly conveyed to Mr. Cummings that Chop was safely found and returned. He shared in the relief, and before long, unable to delay it, Mrs. Darcy took it upon herself to introduce the Carters, seeing herself capable of removing the authority and the awkwardness of those introductions from Mary. Mr. Cummings gave them his most congenial salutations, indebted to these kind strangers for their kindness, and exchanged the usual pleasantries—mostly a repetition of what had already been said. But when he was reminded of the name Carter, of the –shire Regiment, Mr. Cummings corrected his address from captain to lieutenant colonel. He congratulated him upon his successful fighting and promotion and the medals at Waterloo. The congratulated man quickly changed the subject, and kindly, demurely requested being referred to as Dr. Carter.

"Dear Jane,

I'm sorry to have neglected you in writing. Lately, I've spared more time for Kitty or Mama, but little for others. You've probably heard of my new endeavours here in London. That is no excuse though for failing to write back sooner. Please, be assured that Lizzy is doing well. Just the other day, she began to feel some very early signs that her lying-in is drawing close. We were just entertaining a few visitors early in the morning, but it was cut short when she suddenly rose and struggled to walk from the room. To our good fortune, we had a doctor present, and he gave Mr. Darcy his assurances that this was nothing amiss. Dr. Reis still monitors her progress very closely. As the days go by, I feel a little more confident personally, not just for Lizzy's sake but also my own.

Something has recently occurred, most extraordinarily. I've just enclosed a new piece of music recently purchased from Grandisons' . If you are shocked, I assure you there's no mistake. It's finally happened, Jane! Everything you and Lizzy had always hoped for these last few years, and now, I've finally become published. I look at it myself and still cannot believe it, this cover and piece, with my name on it! And the publisher has desired that they should see more in future! I so look forward, when I do come to visit you all in Nottinghamshire, that I may play it for you. As grand as that prospect is, that is not the extraordinary event I elude to—perhaps better put, perplexing. It is a matter of great delicacy that I've discussed only a little with Lizzy. It's not as if I cannot confide in her, but when I did ask her opinion on the subject, she gave a very, dignified but vague opinion. She recuses herself from the matter, professing to have strong opinions that ought not to be expressed and have any undue influence on me.

It was Lizzy's advice that I apply to you, Jane. For you have some experience in the matter of joy and pain, at the absence and reappearance, of a man that has since come to hold your heart. May I ask, what were your feelings towards Mr. Bingley when he first left Hertfordshire? What were your feelings when he then returned the next year? Did all former affection and regard return naturally? Were things very changed between you both? Did it take time for him to reestablish himself in your own affections? I ask because I find myself in a somewhat similar situation now. A few days ago, my dear little Chop went missing one evening while I'd gone to the opera with friends. I was quite frantic and miserable until he was found early the following morning. To my great surprise, who should've recovered him, but Captain Carter and his sister! Oh Jane, you can only imagine the feelings as I stumbled upon them in the garden in the square. But unlike you, having been warned when Mr. Bingley had returned to the neighbourhood, I had no such warning.

Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley, also looking for Chop, met up with us, and joined in my insistence that they might come to the house and accept tea. For it was still very early, and they'd been out walking some distance from their home. I expected a much more awkward conversation, more constrained, even feelings of estrangement. It was my expectation, but Captain Carter, who I ought to now call Dr. Carter, and his sister, displayed no such feelings. At first, at least. I did sense a change in the demeanor of Chop's rescuers, when another gentleman of our acquaintance entered the room. I'll admit, it was rather early to receive visitors, but Lizzy and Mr. Darcy, all of us, were expecting his arrival. He is a rather modest gentleman, of very fine reputation by all those of our acquaintance. And I must confess, he's become more than a mere acquaintance. He has since been calling frequently at the Darcy House, as well as extending invitations to the opera and the theater. All of the family think very kindly of him, as do I. As delightful, amiable, so fine a gentleman as Mr. Cummings, Jane, I was absolutely mortified to see the both of them, in the same room together.

Poor Lizzy, she knew instantly what was about to happen, and she'd have prevented it from happening, but it was too late. I did the best I could to interact composedly with the company, even if the calm were artifice. Yet, before the Carters made their polite departure, I had the suspicion that while both gentlemen parted on the friendliest of terms, Dr. Carter sensed it. Maybe he saw it, between myself and Lizzy, or perhaps, it was seeing Mr. Cummings, how he so readily came and stood beside my chair, a natural position. Now that it's all over, I cannot make any sense of it myself. Did I behave wrongly in any way? I did not attempt to favour one over the other, talk to one more than other. I attempted to treat them both perfectly equal, but the situation was difficult, especially being that Mr. and Miss Darcy are better acquainted with Mr. Cummings. Chop was the main topic of discussion for a time, and before long, Dr. Carter was forced to depart for his work duties. I so wished to talk to him! At the very least, I desired nothing more than a few minutes in solitude, to convey my apologies so long overdue. As you must remember, I had no chance of it. My letter had been misdirected.

Perhaps now you comprehend my entire dilemma. I hope so, because I confess, I don't know how to even put it all into words. I can scarce put my thoughts into words. Is that how you felt when Mr. Bingley returned to Netherfield the second time? Of course, we were never, never to each other what you and Mr. Bingley were to one another. If I could name any of the feelings that burn within me, one of them is a flame of guilt. Am I so naive to believe that a chance encounter will turn back the clock two years? Am I so presumptuous to assume that just because he was agreeable to me in company that he would be so agreeable and forgiving entirely?

You also are ignorant of this fact. Nobody was ever told, but he did write to me, shortly before your wedding. He acquitted me of all cruelty by begging me for forgiveness, heaping even more fiery coals on my head. But in it, he resolutely stated that he did not desire a reply. In the most polite and simple terms, he did not desire to see me again. I do not know what to do, Jane. Before he left, while still confined in my own agonies, Lizzy happened to mention that I would be attending the park concert at Vauxhall next week. Sly creature, though, she did not drop a hint that I would be performing! She only made clear that Dr. and Miss Carter's joining them would make everyone's pleasure that evening complete. She said a great deal, without really saying it. Lizzy also paid some marked attention to Miss Carter, inquiring whether or not she enjoyed dancing, whether she and her brother went often to Vauxhall, and ever enjoyed the park concerts. If I was anxious before, about the performance and Mr. Cummings' attendance, now I am beginning to dread it. Forgive me, I must leave off writing soon. My friend, Miss Sothern, shall be calling shortly, where we'll continue our composition of a new aria.

When you have opportunity, Jane, I beg your mercy. Please give me your honest opinion, and if you can, relay some of the wisdom of your own experience. Give my love to Kitty, and to little Davy, and Mr. Bingley.

Love your sister,

Mary."

"Kitty, look out!" yelled Charles.

The squeals of pigs drowned him out, and neither Kitty or Caroline, who stood close by her, were nearly trampled by a medium-sized female. Unable to dodge or catch her, the force of collision and the fall was unavoidable. The pig sent one into the other, sending both toppling backwards into the dirt. Pigs—everywhere, and one of them, so delirious and delighted by their brief liberty, also ended up collapsing a section of someone's goat pen. Out of the way of all the hooves, trying to avoid trampling also, the poor chickens and geese that milled peacefully about the cottages were fluttering in momentary frantic flight, from one place to the other. The Andreozzi men, having observed the incident, were right there alongside the tenants, scrambling, roping, seizing hold of every loose animal within reach. Within minutes of it happening, the colonel had shed his fine jacket across the fence. Nails clenched between lips, a hammer speedily repairing the boards knocked down senselessly. Jane had disappeared and reappeared a dozen times in the tenants' cottages. In the chaos about, and trying to spare some, Jane helped the women gather some of the stray chickens and geese as well as any of their small children by temporarily ushering them into the cottages.

"That little beast," hissed Caroline. They happened to be near a common trough, where the ground wasn't entirely dry. Both their habits came up a mess. Meanwhile, the little offender had been tempted to a temporary halt by some morsel on the ground, some ten yards ahead, at the corner of one of the barns, making herself unseen.

"We've nearly got all of them," murmured Kitty. "Come, we can manage." Miss Bingley followed, miserably dragging her feet and skirts. "I'll be sly, walk around passed her, and just block her from coming back this way." It was a poor plan, to only be depended on by the sow's indifference. Kitty had already been bitten a couple times in her efforts to catch the piglets. The thought of an angry mother and her mouth was not a prospect she'd like risking. It did work, but as Caroline edged closer, blocking the other way back, the pig turned and noticed her. Her angry sounds kept her from closing in.

"What's the problem? She's trapped! Two more steps and you'll have her," said Kitty.

"This one is too big for either of us!" growled Caroline. "How am I to secure her? If pigs had collars or bridles, fine, but what are we supposed to do?"

"Why not you use your own body weight?"

"Kitty!"

Something must be done, before she slipped down an alley behind a house to the left. The pig had already spotted her possible escape route.

"Cut her off!" cried Caroline. Kitty scrambled, and for a second, both of them debated.

"Little beast, indeed," muttered Kitty. "Poor thing. I'll show her exactly what I think of you."

She decided to try and bolt passed Kitty, but did not account for the girl, though somewhat small in stature and unused to real farm labour, throw her weight upon the pig. And Kitty thought she would go deaf, with her head right above the sow's head, squealing at the top of its lungs. With a hold around the neck and the torso, the sow struggled until it went onto its side. Its own weight rolled Kitty to her own side; since that didn't work, she tried to maneuver free with violent thrusts and kicking of her feet. It was difficult enough, for both bodies were slick and moistened, and now that every human being in the vicinity had been chasing these animals for over half an hour, exhaustion added to the struggle.

"Help me!" Kitty screamed back at her. Caroline added her own weight on its hind quarters, and managed, though very much disgusted, grabbing the sow's back feet. Attention was drawn; men were running towards them. Kitty rolled herself back upwards, pinning the upper half. Such a movement almost counteracted efforts, by allowing all four of the sow's feet to touch the ground. She threatened to take flight, despite the angry hold round her neck and torso. Kitty found some traction with her own feet, enough to dig in and keep the sow in place until Charles, Mr. Murray, and Signore Andreozzi reached them. Before either of the cousins could grab hold, Signore Andreozzi wrapped an arm that overlapped Kitty's around the neck, and another arm under the sow's haunches. She really wasn't all that big or heavy, but her will for freedom and that shrill temper compensated. He rushed quickly towards the repaired pen, with Charles and Mr. Murray running on ahead of him. Mr. Murray unlatched the pen, while Charles guarded the gate inside. Signore Andreozzi bent down and shoved her through; between all three of the men's set of legs, the sow had no path but forward. The gate latch was slammed shut!

"The last one?" called Jane.

"The last one," replied Charles.

"Oh, thank heavens!" Turning round: "All the pigs are back in, everyone! It's safe for the poultry now!"

Little by little, Kitty and Caroline watched the doors open again, and the poor poultry were granted safe release back into the yards and open walkways. Every pig, every goat… Sadly not, every one was accounted for, however. The colonel inquired with both owners, gathering the final count. All except four pigs and one goat had been reclaimed. Charles' head sunk, with a very dirty hand covering eyes and temples. Not one person's hands, feet, or body went home clean that afternoon. Whatever had been attempted by the leap over the fence, perhaps a compliment upon horsemanship, was repaid by scowls from the tenants, a ruined habit, and most unforgettably: public humiliation.

Blazing, breathing hard, clenching, her brother showed absolutely no mercy. "Are you pleased with yourself, Caroline?"

"It was an accident, Charles! I'm sorry. I did not intend to break the fence, and unleash the farm."

"You'll be paying for this. If those missing pigs and goat are not recovered, your allowance will compensate for them! If they do damage to nearby fields, while loose, you'll pay the damages!"

"Of course, it will be done; I'm perfectly capable of managing such affairs myself!" Caroline burst, now quite vexed herself. By the tone of voice, though, she was feeling the whip of words. "It was an accident, after all."

"Accident!" he bellowed. "I told you not to jump your horse here. This is not an equestrian stall, Caroline. This land belongs to the tenants! Their homes, their livelihoods—all of which you've jeopardized for the sake of showing off!"

"I said I'll take care of it!"

"I'll see to that, and that you will not continue to be a liability in that regard. Luis, will you kindly fetch Caroline's horse?"

"Charles!"

"You can walk yourself back to the house. I'm done!"

"How dare you take my horse from me! She is mine, purchased with my own money!" "Luis, please go take my sister's horse, and inform the groomsman that she is forbidden from the stables."

"Oh hush, you're making a scene," Kitty quietly chided. Mr. Murray hastily and nervously obeyed, taking poor Aphrodite by the reins.

"I'm your sister, not your servant!"

"I'm not discussing this! Go back to the house, now!"

She may not have minded so much, if it were not for the spectators from the cottages or the presence of Colonel Fitzwilliam. Such a merciless display, having been robbed dignity before all, sent her off in a furious haste. Kitty half expected a tearful, more petulant outburst. If it had been herself, she'd not have been equal to the angry words of a brother, and in public. That she was so capable of taking leave, without such weakness, left a chill behind her. This was not to go unpunished; someone would pay for this. Kitty chanced a look at Jane, who kept to the sidelines during Charles' outburst. Just like her husband, she was flushed and full of shame, fermenting indignity, too empty to feel any shred of sympathy or even fear. Kitty feared for her. This was so bad for Caroline to let go without some spiteful vengeance.

Colonel Fitzwilliam approached, looking somber himself. "Miss Bennet, would you like some assistance back on your horse?"

Mr. Murray stood waiting with the reins of all three horses in his hand. After wrestling pigs following the long day's ride, Kitty nearly staggered in attempt to regain the saddle. Thankfully, the colonel observed it, stopped her and lifted her up into the saddle. "You did very well, Miss Bennet," he commended kindly. "I see you spared yourself nothing."

"Certainly! Good Lord, Miss Bennet," said Mr. Murray. "Your face!"

"It's nothing. I'm used to dirt. Everything washes," shrugged Kitty. Mr. Murray waited for nothing, thrusting a clean handkerchief into her hands.

"Are there any cuts or scratches? It must have been a bad fall."

"It wasn't a fall. It was while catching that last sow."

Signore Andreozzi and his brothers were walking by. They inquired with Charles if there was anything else they might do; free of obligation, some Italian bounced between the brothers. It ended up with Signore resigning for the rest of the day, and everyone should return to their cottages. The path could be finished in the morning.

"How very brave of you," said Mr. Murray. "And very kind of you, especially considering none of this was your fault."

"Perhaps not. But if you saw me with the sow, I believe you'd say otherwise."

Mr. Murray laughed heartily, not intending to laugh following such catastrophes. At least, he no longer concerned himself about injury. Exhausted and exasperating the whole situation had become, what did a little mud, or rather a lot of mud, on her face really matter? There came this irrational impulse to laugh. Perhaps it was the thought, trying to imagine her mother's face, if she saw her daughter now. This was so utterly ridiculous, no doubt her father would appreciate it even. Mrs. Bennet would be scolding her encounter with the sow, rushing to wipe her face, reach for every spare handkerchief. Yet, nothing had proved more charming in Mr. Murray's eyes. It would have upended all her beliefs in female virtue. Lizzy would've likely looked upon it with laughter herself, considering her indifference to three wet miles to Netherfield. The only reaction to be met with some real surprise was Signore Andreozzi. At first, he paused as if to say something to the three of them, but the sound of Mr. Murray's laugh, decidedly changed his course. He kept on walking with his brothers; for he was as filthy and grim-faced as everyone else, trying not to show his contempt. Kitty returned to the house dreading whether she were the object of that contempt.

For once, Davy was perhaps the cleanest member of the household. Everyone had to wash thoroughly, and keep ringing the staff for more water. Kitty required the most, for her face and her hair as well as the whole body. Jane fared better. Charles, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Murray had plenty of washing to do, but completed the task more quickly than all the ladies. However long Caroline took for her bathing, she was in no hurry and did not join the family for dinner. A tray had been ordered be brought to her room. Of course, she made the whole meal and everyone attending to it sullen; yet, while the cause of it, she was incapable of bringing herself to sit down and face them all. Mr. Murray and the colonel were the only two at the table carrying on conversation, making some effort at forgetting earlier events. Charles and Jane seemed to have energy only to respond, to give their dutiful attention but offer no discourse themselves. Kitty tried not to shiver with her wet hair. Normally, no woman ever sat down to dinner in such an unfinished state of dress, but Jane said nothing about it. Her hair was also wet; her shoulders wrapped in a heavier shawl. It was hardly to be wondered at when Jane rose from her chair, claiming to feel rather tired.

Everyone asked after her as she left, but she dismissed with a very polite face. Polite but hasty… Even Charles, she calmly, kindly, emphatically insisted he stay.

"… Please, excuse me, gentlemen," pleaded Kitty.

"Kitty, is everything—"

"Yes, thank you, Charles. I'd just like to check on her myself."

Kitty did not see her, but was able to follow the flicker of Jane's candle. Something about her manner gave suspicion, and the direction of her path confirmed it. Jane did not retire straight to her chambers, but took to Caroline's. It should not have been done, but curiosity is a hot fire, intolerable when confined without even the smallest vent. Kitty followed the candlelight. Would Lizzy have followed her? Mary would not, and Lydia would have, no question. It was gratifying to see her sister make the dreadful journey, and with a burning relish, Kitty wished to hear what Caroline had to say when humbled before her sister.

She stayed far behind, and approached the apartments slowly, in case she was wrong and Jane retreated back quickly. Caroline's door was closed, and the hall dark. She'd have plenty time to escape detection. On tiptoe, she approached the door, and tentatively leaned her ear. Sounds were muffled. Jane's voice could be heard, though her speech was indistinct. Impatiently, she waited to hear more, if only they'd raise their voices a little more, or else the door had been thinner. A bold hand slowly crept to the door handle, turned it noiselessly, and ever so imperceptibly edged it open. Every sound, now met the ear distinctly. Shockingly enough, Kitty heard the sound of weeping.

"You know I would never… never disrespect you, dearest Jane… You must know how much I love and respect you. You've been so good to me, such a dear friend, unlike anyone has ever been… How could you allow this… allow my own brother to publicly humiliate me! And you stood there, stood there and did nothing as he lost his temper, and exposed us all to the contempt of our tenants. Charles knew it was an accident!"

"I was there, Caroline. He demanded you not jump your horse, and you deliberately disobeyed."

"How can you be so cruel, Jane? I never expected this of you!" she moaned. "Of Louisa, I can well expect it, but not you!"

"Caroline—"

"But of course, I should not be surprised. You are mistress of the house now, and I am nothing to Charles anymore. I am a burden. I'm unwanted—"

"You know very well that is not true!"

"Oh, I know so! He doesn't want me here. Nobody wants me. Not Louisa, not Charles, not my family in the north—"

"Wh-What are you talking about? The Murray family, not want you? It was our understanding that you did not wish to go and stay with them in the north."

"Of course not. It's not because I don't wish to go. I'd love nothing more, but because I know they don't want me there…"

"Have they ever told you so? Has Louisa or Charles ever said such words to you? Then, why should you think—"

"You just know these things. It's intuition, Jane… Louisa… She found me a match, and she was insistent that I marry… this repulsive suitor. He's rich to be sure, and that is enough recommendation for Louisa to try and pair me off… How would you feel, Jane? Married to a man that is beneath contempt? So vulgar and ill-mannered, of such bad reputation, that you could never possibly respect him? You could never respect yourself again agreeing to such a marriage… She was so unkind, but I knew I could rely on you and Charles… At least," she sobbed, "I thought I could… I'm as much of a burden to both of you as to Louisa." Jane did not respond right away, allowing for more sobs. "I don't wish to be a burden, but… it's so hard. You couldn't possibly understand."

"Caroline… I do want to understand, but you must meet us halfway. If this is so upsetting, you'd do yourself a great deal of good by talking of us. You need to let us help you… I want to help you. I want to offer you a home, but Caroline, what happened earlier was not acceptable! First, at the bridge, you refused to heed my caution not to cross it. My concern for everyone's safety is met with derision. Then, you tell the colonel you can jump your horse, Charles tells you not to, you don't heed him either. And look what happened!"

"Charles is such a hypocrite! He's done similar when he was growing up, almost exactly the same as a boy. Our governess told him not to—"

"Caroline, this is not about Charles!"

"Why did you both do this, right in front of the colonel? In front of the tenants! Scold me like I were a child, and forbid me from my own horse. She is mine, after all… If I was in your place, I'd at least have waited to scold you in private, preserve some of your dignity… How am I ever to face him again? Or anybody?"

"It was not our intention to humiliate, but surely, you must see that your behaviour put many people at risk."

"I assure you, it will not happen again," she resigned, with a sigh.

"I hope so."

"Oh Jane, won't you please intercede on my behalf with Charles? Tell him how deeply grieved I am for all this trouble. Tell him that I shall never do anything so reckless again, if I may have Aphrodite at my disposal once again?"

"… If you wish me to tell him so, I shall convey your sentiments. I think it would mean much more to your brother if he heard the words from your own lips, but as far as your horse and your rides are concerned, it would be better if you ask him yourself."

"I couldn't possibly."

"Why ever not?"

"… He will not listen to me, Jane. But you, your good opinion means everything to him! Even before you were both married, when we first came to Netherfield, even while we were in town, you were always in his thoughts. He spoke of you so highly, so much in love with you. He'll do anything for you, anything."

"… What about Miss Darcy?" challenged Jane. "Did you not tell me, at the time, that all expectations, all his attentions were engaged with Mr. Darcy and his sister?"

"Well… Yes, I did, but that was very wrong of me. I was, I must admit, so jealous of you. It's very hard for a sister, for me and Louisa always having been so close to him, to see an outsider become first place in our brother's affections."

"… I do not take your place, and never could take your place… You know that Charles loves you. He was never going to turn out his sisters just because he married—"

"Well, he did… For a time, neither Louisa or myself were treated with any regard, though we begged him to receive us, begged him to forgive our unkind intervention—"

"Caroline, I must—"

"I promise. I shall endeavour to mend my ways. I did not mean to disrespect you in any way. Please, it would be a great kindness, to let me have my horse for daily rides. I shall not go near the tenants' cottages or fields ever! I promised to ride back to the foothills with Mr. Murray, and I just made plans that we'd include Colonel Fitzwilliam, before all that happened. It would be so disgraceful, even more humiliating if I could not keep my word… Perhaps, it will serve you and Charles more if I were permitted to ride. If I am out in company more, the more likely, the sooner I'll be taken off your hands."

"… I will have to think about this, Caroline. I'll not make any promises…"

Kitty started to hear her sister's footsteps, and made a hasty retreat down the hall, into a nearby alcove. Her own heartbeat felt so loud, the throb of the pulse in her own veins ignited greater fire in her veins. Such effects only worsened as Jane opened the door, taking her leave. She stood for a moment outside Caroline's room, trying to catch her breath. The candle trembled, and her breath came ragged. Kitty, knowing the distress, feared her fainting, and almost set to approach Jane. What a horrible mixture gleamed in the candlelight: the sight of hot tears on such expression, not of grief—but pure fury. Despite all hope, she had failed to humble Caroline… Caroline defeated her! How!

Once enough recovered, Jane retreated back in the direction she came, making escape to her own chambers. Meanwhile, Kitty returned to the door, quietly opened the door a crack, and peaked in. Caroline Bingley resumed her seat before the vanity mirror, finished dabbing her eyes and took up brushing her freshly cleaned and damp mane. Perfectly composed.

So, before judging Jane too harshly, just a disclosure. A part of Jane's experience is autobiographical. In my real life scenario, I would actually be in Kitty's position. I'm not the direct target, so I'm not in the direct line of fire. I do get caught in the crosshairs from time to time, and it causes me a lot of anxiety. A lot pain, not for myself but watching a loved one be the target of it. And we're not blind to it either, just like Jane's not blind to it. It's a family member. I do love them very much. It's a real struggle trying to impose boundaries, stick to your guns, and not be sucked into the 'how could you hurt me like this?' or 'I love you so much, you know I would never...' I used to feel more guilty about strong words or being tactless, before realizing that was part of the game. It's hard to make sense of it. When this starting writing itself into the story, I feel like it's been helpful in my learning to cope.

Anyway, aside from that, thank you for giving Captain Carter a warm welcome back. Just as before, he, Mary, canon and OCs are in for interesting plot twists.

Thank you to nanciellen for all your reviews of past chapters and the current.

Thank you to liysyl, r1965rd, Caraea90, and other guests who stick up for Kitty. I can start to feel I'm polarizing some readers, but everyone seems to agree on one thing, Mr. Murray. I would've liked throwing him in the mud with the pigs too.