Chapter 32

Kitty walked long and far, for other reasons similar to Jane's. Lydia, in the house and staying in her room—at least until a now vacated bedroom could be spared. Once more, they ran away and reached out with grasping hands for relief. That would be a hard task in itself. Between Charles and Mr. Wickham, there existed no brotherly affection, in spite of easy temperament. And of all times, when they all should brace themselves for Caroline Bingley, they had to come here and be a nuisance. Of course, that didn't include the poor children. Kitty chanced upon them in her rambles, out by the fountain in the orange garden. Davy's nurse had escorted him and taken charge of the two girls. Since Dora was not walking yet, she had her arms full of her. It was early afternoon, nearing the hour for naps and rest. At least, the weather proved mild enough for enjoyment.

"Admiring my children?"

Kitty whirled round to find their father, reclined up against the tree. A plume of smoke wafted from his face, a cigar lodged between fingers, and his traveling attire changed for a blue long coat. Quite the imperial figure upon his throne, the way he sat beneath the shady oak.

"How do you do, Mr. Wickham? Yes, I was just admiring them all."

"I'm surprised you don't bring your companion. She's talked of little else but you, seeing her dear sister, all this way…"

"I think Lydia had more need of rest after the journey," replied coolly. "Well… I haven't completed my tour of the woods yet. I'll just be along."

The untruth she hoped to grant her a quick dismissal. She set off down the little path that would take her round again by the waterfall. Under the falls, no one could possibly detect her presence, unless they knew about the path and that it would take them safely under the water. Her pace picked up by a degree. However, within minutes, coming within sight of the waterfall itself, his voice called out.

"Where are you going so fast?"

It's not as if it were a short distance from the oranges to the waterfall. A chill entered her veins as she turned around. "Why have you followed me, Mr. Wickham?"

"I wouldn't need to follow you, if you'd give me a chance to speak." He came to a stop some yards from her. The cigar had been discarded. "Dear sister, it's been a long time. I thought we might talk. I'd like to know how you've been getting on. Have you been well and happy since leaving Hertfordshire?"

"Naturally."

"Lydia has written you a number of times, inviting you to come stay with us in Newcastle." He staggered for a second, his foot catching on a nearby tree root. "Forgive me, I'm not accustomed to this rough walk, not as graceful as yourself."

"You don't look very well. Perhaps you ought to return to the house."

"I thank you for the concern, but I'm well," he assured, smiling. "I'm not unwell. I should probably say that, it's more polite, but it's not that. I'm well. This is just having enjoyed my liquor a little too much the night before."

Lydia's letters! Her complaints, or concerns, that Mr. Wickham had been unwell and they had not enough money for the grocer's bills. It wasn't illness. Kitty closed her parasol. Upon looking around, the area seemed rather deserted, except for one of the younger Andreozzi cousins doing some kind of work on a shrub off in the distance.

In more haughty tones: "Do you very frequently suffer these complaints? Perhaps an antidote is needed. If it doesn't make you feel well, as Lydia says, you ought to give it up."

"Oh, does she? Yes, I'm sure she talks of me a good deal… You know, she drinks heavily too."

"Mr. Wickham—"

"Not anywhere near what I can, but she knows how to enjoy herself. She's very entertaining when in high spirits… High spirits." So amused at the pun, and at the shock on her face. "I did not intend that. That's really funny."

"I don't find it very amusing, Mr. Wickham."

"Pardon me. You are not used to us and our wild ways. I'm sure you did not wish to hear that, but I suppose you should know the truth. You wouldn't know. Her sisters wouldn't know how she spins her stories in letters… You're shocked, I see. I should be more delicate with you. After all, you were always her companion. I didn't think it would be a great shock, especially after some of the parties we had in Hertfordshire. Remember the one evening: when poor Chamberlayne dressed up and aped Lady Catherine? I remember your own little costume, Marie Antoinette. Oh, what a riot, wasn't it? It's not as if you didn't indulge in your fair share of good liquor," he laughed.

"That was some time ago. And I do not reflect back on those memories as you and Lydia do."

"Hmmm… You've really changed. Quite grown up, haven't you?" Cool but angered, Kitty moved to continue her walk down the path. Now, the waterfall was no longer a good idea. Better if she should pass directly through and seek, as the colonel suggested, a third person. Even the boy in the distance would serve fine as the third person. Mr. Wickham caught up and closed the distance, grasping hold of the parasol to slow her.

"What are you doing? That's mine."

"Oh, I'm just playing with it. I like how grand ladies walk about the estate, with these dainty little things open." He even demonstrated with a laboured strut. "When I saw you approach the children and the nurse, I was thinking to myself: My, my… what a fine lady, like a duchess."

"Don't talk to me this way, Mr. Wickham. It's most unflattering, and I am not your wife."

"That's exactly what I find so charming. You used to be a pair, you two. I came expecting you'd be two giggling girls together again, up to your old tricks. No indeed. I can see Mrs. Bingley and Mrs. Darcy have cultivated you."

"Give me back my parasol this instant! I'll not stay."

He closed it back up again, still smiling, maliciously enjoying the torment. "Not at all like her," he murmured. Giving up her parasol completely, Kitty lunged the opposite way, but before she could snatch her hand back, he'd already seized her by the wrist. "Even more charming—" She dodged the assault of his lips, enough to scream. Kitty threw a few slaps, which turned into a fist, aiming for his cheek, his eye, or head. He had her within his arms and close enough to render her flailing almost ineffective to do do harm. However, no better weapon that the shrill scream. And in short order, Kitty found herself mistaken in thinking that the young Andreozzi cousin was alone. Out of the thickets and out from between trees on both sides of the river, every man of the Andreozzi clan came charging. As fast it happened, Kitty had a chance, in those couple seconds, a glimpse of Wickham's face. Oh, the fear, the panic—as he began to run! And the brothers met him and introduced themselves in a way that reminded Kitty, from her reading of geography and wildlife guides—the way lions encircle and ambush their kill.

Wickham's head and body disappeared among their own, drowned by the rain of fists. Ilaria, Luciana, and other women caught up to the men. At finding each other, Ilaria grabbed hold of her arm and inquired whether she were hurt. So disturbed, she could not be bothered to translate. But for once, Kitty understood everything perfectly.

"I'm alright. Oh no, they must stop. He's—"

A much louder cry rang out above the general roar of the mob. Paolo Andreozzi arrived on the scene, demanding his brothers and cousins cease immediately. He was not obeyed readily. Mr. Wickham had been allowed to regain his footing, but they all kept a firm hold of him. Against so many men, and for the mild pummeling endured, he came up dirty, his fine coat and shirt torn, a scratch on one cheek, and throbbing. With some fierce commands, the men quieted. Paolo left little room for Wickham to even blink, for he stood close, with his face shadowing Wickham's.

"Who are you, and what do you think you're doing?"

"What is your business here! This is outrageous!" growled Wickham. "Attacked on my brother's own estate, by a bunch of ruffians. He'll summon the magistrate."

"You attacked this young woman! I will summon the magistrate myself!"

"This was just a pleasant stroll in the woods. She is my sister-in-law!"

That gave pause, a moment of disturbance, followed by mental reconciliation. Paolo turned on his heel, looking at a ruffled Kitty.

"Tuo fratello? È vero?" Your brother? Is it true?

"Sì."

"Non dirmelo." Don't tell me. "Questo è il signor Wickham?"

"Sì."

"Ti ha fatto male?" Did he hurt you?

"Sono stato arrestato. Lui è ubriaco. Non ha fatto altro che baciarmi." Simple sentences: I was detained. He is drunk. He did no more than kiss me. Why that come out perfectly, but everything else before had been so hard to say correctly, was frustrating for such a bad occasion. Kitty would have chosen better words in English, but lacked enough vocabulary to put it delicately in Italian. Having said as much caused every muscle in his face to tense, even a slight tremor to the hands as they whitened in fists. Some unintelligible words muttered out, as Paolo grabbed hold of Wickham by the collar of his shirt. Wickham was shrinking again under the inevitable ferocity to descend. Before the first fist fell, with one swift swing that could've broken the jaw, another voice rose shrill and commanding above the clamor for justice. Signora Andreozzi, the short and stout mother, shoved her way through the bodies, with a garden hoe in hand, the other carrying her skirt as she had run. With adamant insistence, she demanded her son to stop and not be so stupid. Violence be the death of him.

Apparently, she had not been close enough to witness the scene, and her aged hearing heard no screams except that of the men. "Avete perso la testa?" Twice, she repeated: 'Have you lost your minds?', looking out upon the younger generation of men. In a moment of rapid back and forth, her son enlightened her as to the cause and effect, enlightened her upon the nature of this uncivilized response. Kitty and Ilaria watched with some horror, as her eyes widened and she looked back at Kitty with shock. She too asked whether the man had injured her. Whether he really had or not, it probably wouldn't have mattered. The fact it was a brother and sister-in-law was disgusting enough. That face turned back on Mr. Wickham, one now matching the expression of her family, outmatching her own son's rage. He did not expect much from a little, old woman. She approached him, stood before his restrained muscular figure, uttered some bitter words like she cursed him, and then, swiftly blunt him in the face with the handle of the hoe!

Kitty and Ilaria each covered the gasps from their mouths. She delivered only one blow, inciting a second frenzy. Mother and son argued for a moment, in a complete reversal. Where the mother had tried to end it, now Paolo attempted to halt the rage of his brothers. It took a minute or two to regain any kind of truce. Meanwhile, Ilaria supported Kitty by the arm; even the fiery signora, having done with her share, cooed and cuddled Kitty, who hardly required any comfort. Aside from the fear that Wickham would be beaten senseless, it was reassuring to watch an entire family rally to her side, including Luciana. She marched upon the wrestling men with her watering bucket; as soon as she had a good view of Wickham, she emptied her bucket over the top of his head.

"Come now, we must go back to the house," bid Ilaria. "We must tell the master."

"But we must stop them! Paolo—"

"My brother shall stop them."

"He's trying, but they're so…"

"You don't need to see. Our men deal with it. Come."

The last look Kitty had of the scene, looking behind her, was Luciana screaming something hateful and throwing her bucket but missing her intended target. Ilaria could only laugh at her for trying.

If that was not shocking enough for Kitty, nearly assaulted by her own brother-in-law, watching him be taught a lesson, the scene that took place in the drawing room topped all of them. Ilaria went in with Kitty, supporting her. Signore Andreozzi soon followed, begging leave to speak with Mr. Bingley. Kitty waited for no announcement by a servant, and all three stood before, not just Charles, but the entire family and their visitors. Charles, Jane, Caroline, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Luis Murray, and Lydia: all rose except Lydia to witness and hear the court case before them.

"Mr. Bingley, I'm afraid my sister and I find it necessary to escort your sister to you. For she's just been harassed and attacked while walking the grounds, by a member of your own family. My family witnessed the incident, and we have since detained him. Please pardon the manner in which he has been detained. I will await your order, and we will obey. We are just near finished with our last project on the grounds. We should be finished up today. After that, as long as I have completed all the terms of our contract, we shall depart tomorrow morning. If you deem it necessary, however, I will stay behind for questioning. I take full responsibility, as long as you take responsibility for your part."

"Signore Andreozzi, will you please bring in the offender at once? And I assure you, sir, I fully intend to do so."

Niccolo and Tomas were the happy brothers to answer their brother's summons, who called to them through the open window. Around they came and inside, half holding and half dragging the tattered and battered Mr. Wickham, the lip beginning to swell and the scratch on his cheek now bloody. Lydia leapt to her feet and cried in horror, shocked to see her husband so abused but unable to step forward. He—the assailant of her sister.

"Wickham… You? How… to my sister, Kitty?" she gasped for words.

"I demand an explanation!" growled Wickham. "Mr. Bingley, you cannot stand by and let your hired men behave this way, attacking a visitor on your estate, your family no less!"

"Why not? You attack my wife's sister, who is under my protection…" He drew a deep breath, looking very much like he did the day of the escaped pigs. "I thank Signore Andreozzi and his family for their intervention!"

"I was beaten with a garden hoe! I'll get a lawyer for it. Attempted murder!"

Kitty scoffed: "One smack from an old lady is not a beating. I don't believe many people would believe a trained solider an equal match for someone half his size."

"Kitty!" Jane gasped.

"Crazy old hag!"

"Crazy indeed, my mother," retorted Andreozzi. "I'm just glad it was only the handle and not the spade. That would've been murder." Kitty suppressed her smiles.

"Mr. Wickham, if you sue, I'll counter it, with the eyewitness testimony of Signore Andreozzi and all his family, and Miss Bennet's. I don't think you want to it to go farther. For your crime, this is enough to warrant deportation. Do you want to risk that?"

Kitty watched her sister, feeling the words of her husband as much as everyone else in the room. Her eyes flickered, darted back and forth in keen observance. Caroline, as ever, stood quite detached in the seat of judgment, with a demure curve of the lips.

"You should be ashamed of yourself! Not only for your injury to Kitty, but to your own wife!"

"I-I was not thinking… I'm not… I'm just… Lydia, you know me. I'd never—"

"You are despicable! My own sister… You couldn't have Lizzy, but you'll take me! You're happy enough but not good enough to fancy Kitty—"

"It was never like that, my girl! Don't be such a fool!" Too afflicted for many insults or accusations in return, Lydia burst into tears and fled the room.

"Signore Andreozzi," Charles began again, "will you kindly request your brothers to come with me as I escort Mr. Wickham to the stables? Colonel?"

"Yes, Bingley?"

"While we stay with him, may I request your service, and fetch the magistrate?"

"Of course."

"Must you be so hasty, Charles? Not the magistrate," remonstrated Caroline.

"Luis, will you go also, and fetch the doctor? Kitty, I am very, very sorry for all this."

"It's alright. I'm unharmed, at least."

"I promise it will never happen again." Charles joined his own brute hand with the Andreozzi brothers, turning him round and forcing him walking back outside. Captive by the scene long enough, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Murray hastened to follow to the stables, ready to set off on their occupations, anything better than standing in the room with the three ladies. Kitty would've welcomed the fourth, but Ilaria gently and graciously excused herself, now seeing her friend safe.

"What on earth were you doing walking the grounds alone?" Caroline baited. "Did you learn nothing from your little sister? For a man of his reputation, you should've exercised greater care."

"You blame me for this?"

"In part. Really, people like the Wickhams should not even be admitted to the house. Jane, you could've turned them away last night. You and Charles could've dismissed them and leave them to the magistrate."

"Oh? I can turn my own family away and out of my house?"

"For not having done so, this was incident is hardly any surprise. Thank goodness we are not at Netherfield, where this will be widely talked about and go back to Longbourne. But now, we'll have to deal with gossip here. What's the matter, Jane? Why do you look at me that way?"

"I like your idea, Caroline. And I'm about to take your advice. Kitty, will you be so good as to excuse us?" Naturally, they should be alone, but Jane knew better than to expect anything beyond closing the door behind. Kitty would not be driven away by good manners.

"What is this? Why are you acting so peculiar? Are not at all shocked?"

"The matter is being dealt with; your brother will see to that. You need hardly concern yourself about our family's reputation. You are wrong to fault Kitty for Wickham's misconduct. An innocent victim has a right to demand recourse from the law."

"Think what you're doing, Jane! Don't let Charles call in the magistrate. It would be a mistake to bring that sort of attention to the Grove. Just try to hush up Wickham and send them off. That's the safest way out of this predicament."

"We will do as we see fit, thank you! As far as turning my own family from the house, how gracious of you to grant me permission." Lizzy would've been proud of the sarcasm. "Caroline, I think it's time you quit the Grove, and look to other family for your keeping and protection."

"W-What?"

"Yes. It would be a kindness to us as well as yourself. Make whatever amends necessary with your sister. You're not happy here, and made that very clear. It would be better to accept that, and just part ways civilly. Just go quietly, for your own sake."

"I will? Of course, I should expect nothing less. You would defend your sisters, whatever they do, but I'm no sister to you, not in your eyes. Miss Kitty may be repulsed by Wickham, but she certainly wasn't repulsed by Signore Andreozzi. Did she not tell you? Yes, I saw them just last night, on the grounds, meeting in the dark, in the most compromising condition…"

"That is a change of story. For last night, it was Miss Sothern and Signore compromised. Now today, it's my sister." That was not expected, by the pause and dumbness of expression. "Do you ever go one day without telling a lie? Is there no person on earth you have any respect for?"

"I saw them—" "Why should I believe that?"

"You must protect her to protect yourself!"

"This is a serious charge. Kitty must answer for it, if she can, but I must also write to Miss Sothern. Since she too is accused, I must give her opportunity to defend herself against such allegations."

"Why? You wouldn't do that, really!"

"Caroline, if my sister has been at all untruthful in her claims, then you shouldn't be afraid of my writing to your friend confirming the truth. I won't have slurs and scandalous things going round about this house and turn a blind eye to it. If Miss Sothern or my sister is slandered, they deserve the right to defend themselves."

"That will bring shame on you, all of us, the very thing you're trying to prevent!"

"I would only feel shame to sweep it under the rug."

"That's how the Wickhams' marriage was handled, after all. Patched up and swept under the rug. It's laughable that you'll turn me out of the house, over fancied lies and slights and accusations, all because you don't feel mistress of the house. But you will give shelter to a sister who disgraced the family?"

"That was long ago. And that wrong has been settled. At least, with regards to Lydia, her indiscretion was thoughtlessness. It was not deliberate. That cannot be said of your indiscretion."

"Mine? What are you talking about? I… If this has anything to do with the Colonel, whatever may have been told, it's entirely exaggerated."

"Kitty never said anything about that." For a moment, Kitty heard only footsteps, the sound of the writing desk being opened and shut, and Jane approached Caroline. By the thin glimpse of their shadows, in relation to the lighting coming through the lower crevice of the door, they stood close. "Charles and I received this letter from London this morning, from Mr. Darcy. For we've been in correspondence about coming to pay them a visit. I think you should read it."

Waiting for Caroline's next response, waiting to hear the contents of this letter that gave Jane such excitement—the torture! The reward, the revenge that best suited, came from the pen and words of Mr. Darcy himself. "I don't… believe it! 'This is not a polite suggestion, Charles. I must insist that Miss Bingley either stay behind in Nottinghamshire, or find her own accommodations in town. For I will not have her in the house. Ever since your last stay at Pemberley… My wife may tolerate her presence with better grace than myself, but I find her… find her conduct reprehensible, h-her manners and character totally wanting, in her coldness to Elizabeth and her overt attentions... to myself and Georgiana… flagrant in her attitude and in very bad taste. It showed a real disregard to all propriety, to the sacredness of marriage vows, and a lack of all human feeling… I'm sorry to make it so plain and cause you pain, Charles. For you and Mrs. Bingley are always welcome, and ever still dear to myself, but in no uncertain terms, I say again: She is never welcome to our house in town or Pemberley…' " Her voice, with each sentence she read and read aloud, came out strangled. "Never?"

"So you see," replied Jane. By the sound of her voice, its depth and flint, she was not immune to that wicked feeling of satisfaction. "Oh yes, I should turn Lydia out of the house. Say what you want about her or Kitty, but they never flirt with married men."

"But that's not how it was… I would never do such a thing! Why! How can they be so cruel? Oh Jane! This… This…"

"Have nothing else to say for yourself?"

"There is some dreadful misunderstanding! I swear! How can you be so cruel?"

"You taught me well, Miss Bingley. Yes, I will read his adjectives again." The letter was snatched back. "Reprehensible. Her manners and character totally wanting. A real disregard for propriety… a lack of all human feeling. And I will add what you chose to overlook, Miss Darcy's words. The very words of the rival you'd set up for me—Georgiana has no desire to maintain her acquaintance or to recognize her upon visiting."

"Stop! Enough!"

"You should be thoroughly ashamed yourself, acting so disgraceful, to my own brother-in-law. For you are as guilty in your heart as Mr. Wickham! My sisters would wipe their feet on you!" This provoked a gasp, accompanied with a sob and a moan, struggling to breathe. One turned into a series of sobs, with true pain and tears, stripped of dignity.

"Whether you choose to accept your guilt or not, Mr. Darcy's wishes will be honoured. I don't want you anywhere near him or Elizabeth. You are not to be trusted, and I will have no person of such character under my roof. So, this is how it will be, and you will make your choice. I intended to see you out of the house today, but as it is late in the day to begin a journey, I'm not so cruel as that. So, I give you until first thing in the morning. You will either go back to the Hursts, and make amends with Louisa. Or you may go and stay with the Murrays in the north. If you make any other arrangements, that is fine with me, but you leave tomorrow."

"They will not have me!"

"Then maybe you should've treated them better," snapped Jane. "I'll order the carriage to take you to the post station. We'll give you what you need for hiring a coach. Be sure your maid gets you packed and ready. Your horse Aphrodite will follow."

"Charles will not stand for this!"

"And I warn you, you better be packed and ready. If you delay, I'll bring my own servants to pack for you. And I will bring Mr. Montgomery to escort you down to the carriage."

"Old Mr. Murray will hear about this. Make no mistake! This is a scandalous way to treat your husband's family, his maiden sister who has no other protector."

"That also puts me in mind, Miss Bingley. If you purposefully delay or if I hear any rumors about sordid affairs in this house, I will take down a copy of this letter. And I will send it to old Mr. Murray. Even if the kindly gentleman does not credit the voice of family members, he cannot dispute the complaint of a gentleman from Derbyshire… I might also send a copy to Miss Sothern. For she ought to be aware of the accusations against her own reputation. It would be remiss of me not to warn those innocent and ignorant."

"No! Now, that is just spiteful. There is no reason you'd send Mr. Darcy's personal correspondence to that horrid creature. He will not sanction it."

"I am sorry for your poor friend. But in our own best interest as well as herself, she ought to know how best to defend herself in the public sphere and quiet any rumors you spread about her. Perhaps that will teach you to keep quiet… I do not wish to, but I will do what I must. I have a duty to protect both our families, any family that would welcome you into their house."

Having had enough of bravery and strong words, while trying to fake her own composure, Jane took leave of the room. She suspected, acknowledged Kitty's presence, hidden in the shadows. Words were needed. Words were forthcoming about Caroline's actual eyewitness account and Kitty's personal testimony. But for the time, emotion had to cool before Jane could think about her sister and Signore Andreozzi. At the summit of a mountain, every climber needs to rest and take in the view. Thank heavens for Mr. Darcy! For he provided for Jane what she always needed and never had: leverage. Lizzy could not have conveyed that to Caroline, neither could Georgiana, Charles, Jane, or herself. No, only Mr. Darcy's words would truly sting. 'My good opinion once lost is lost forever.' She cried for a long time after.

Writing this scene, I feel like Ingrid Bergman in the last scene of the famous movie Gaslight. That was a great inspiration! This is absolutely nothing to that, but the spirit behind that acting and that scene, the build up throughout the movie from being a manipulated victim to conquering her manipulator, it's so, so satisfying! If I haven't already, I encourage you go watch it.

Two of P&P greatest villains in one swoop. Now, of course, this does not endorse violence. Subduing an offender is different than a mob. Still, I like the mental image of Wickham trying to run in fear for his life. Sorry Lydia. It's not in vengeance against you.

Well, Caroline and Jane, and Jane settling her score. I can already hear reviewers saying: Oh NOW she grows a spine! Anybody who has suffered in a family, friendship, any relationship with narcissistic abuse, these patterns can go on for years. And the victims try to tolerate and endure for years before it gets to this breaking point. If that has been you, it feels totally out of your own character, and you have to become very strong and tell the abuser: I'll be me and I don't care what you think about it. And it's really hard to keep your cool, even though you are very angry. And sometimes, it takes seeing someone else do it, or being coached by a professional to empower you to address it. If you've had to deal with any of that in your own life, this chapter is dedicated to you.

Don't take what I'm saying like it's advice. This is just fiction, and personal to Caroline Bingley. Do research before you try tackling any of your Caroline Bingleys. I love that one review who called her our emotional support villainess.