Catherine Bennet Read online

  Once they had returned to the house they separated, and Bingley returned to his wife. “Shall we carry on with the tour?” The general murmurs of agreement from the ladies answered his question. The rear entrance to the house led from the yard into the grand hall, it was a large open room with a light airy feel to it. there was a grand staircase circling upwards at the far end that led up to the first-floor chambers. The walls were high with at least 50 portraits of a variety of serious looking men. There was a huge chandelier hanging high above them with over a thousand candles. Kitty suspected it would probably light the whole room of an evening. There was a small stage with a piano and stands for other musicians at the far end of the hall. A pair of heavy oak doors led through to the guest dining room, which was a long narrow room with a lush red carpet and a long dark wood table that looked as if it could seat perhaps 200 or more people. There were shelves all around which had rows of neat, fresh candles placed in beautifully polished silver candleholders.

  There were also, as Kitty noticed, a lot of rooms she didn’t quite know the point of. At least two separate drawing rooms and at least three parlours, which they briefly passed through. Each of them had been designed a specific way, whether it be a light and breezy open room with a grand window that looked into the gardens, or a darker, cosier room with thick velvet curtains. On the ground floor there was a huge library, she had only seen inside her father’s library a couple of times. Mr Bingley’s just blew her away - it ran all along one side of the house with shelves that towered almost to the ceiling. “There must be at least 20 shelves on each wall” she observed to herself. To the west was a smaller room, it had a grand fireplace and a portrait of Mr Bingley hanging above it. There were a few smaller shelves and cabinets and a beautiful dark wood desk that reminded her of the study at Longbourn, though somewhat bigger and grander.

  There were three floors in total, the First floor was where the family were staying, and it is where her room was as well as at least 9 others. Kitty tried to count all the doors, but Mr Bingley’s pace was brisk, and she had to walk quickly to keep up. The corridors were beautiful too. They were tall with portraits of, Kitty assumed, Bingley’s relatives. There were tapestries and shelves of all sorts of beautiful ornaments that she was afraid to even breathe near in case they shattered. They only ventured onto the top floor briefly. It was smaller than the others but had a lot more doors. At the far side was a staircase spiralling up to the attics. It looked quite peaceful up here, but it was the servant’s quarters and they moved back down stairs not long after.

  Kitty was not aware how long they had been walking, the sheer size and grandeur of the place had made time seem to fly by and she was alarmed when the clock in the grand hall chimed five times. “Good heavens” Jane exclaimed, it having surprised her also. “Indeed, we had best get ready for dinner soon” Mr Bingley added. He turned towards Caroline and Kitty. “I have asked Samson and Mrs Warner to prepare dinner for us in the small dining room. The fires have been lit and it will be quite pleasant I think, particularly as we are quite a small group today.” At this they all parted and went to their chambers to wash and dress for the evening.

  Chapter Three

  The time seemed to pass by so quickly at Blakewood. The days were peaceful, with walks in the gardens or into the local village when the weather permitted. The snow had held off for quite a while for which they were all grateful. The evenings were spent in the drawing room in the west wing most nights, where there were occasionally guests to entertain or, if not, there was no shortage of reading material or musical delights. Caroline, as bitter as her personality was could play beautifully and it was always pleasing to hear her, though the delights were quickly wilted by her snide comments about the Bennet family’s lack of skills in such things. In early December there had been a ball. Mr Bingley had invited everyone from the surrounding villages. Rather like at Netherfield. Kitty thought it a fantastic idea and a great way to introduce yourself to the neighbourhood and the neighbourhood to you. Mr Bingley had also arranged a trip to the theatre, which Kitty had been most excited about. She had never been to the theatre before and although Bingley claimed that the theatre in Nottingham was perhaps not as grand as some of the bigger London theatres, Kitty was still thrilled to go. Jane had bought her a brand-new dress, for there are specific customs that are considered proper for the theatre and she had nothing suitable.

  A seamstress had been called to the Manor to measure both Jane and Caroline for new dresses, a very well-known dress maker in the Midlands named Mrs Bell and Jane insisted that her sister have a new dress also, which Bingley thought a fantastic idea. Mrs Bell brought with her two assistants and three chests full of the best fabrics from across the continent. Caroline’s style, of course, was to choose the most expensive and complicated of all dress patterns and fabrics, favouring only the rarest of silks that the family could afford in a deep olive shade.

  Jane chose a much lighter silk in a peach shade which made her eyes sparkle and one of the simpler designs with a light gold trim and lace overlay. Kitty felt a bit spoilt for choice as she looked through the fine fabrics, before finally settling on a beautiful pale blue silk gown. She then chose some simple ribbon trimmings the design was pretty enough, not too fancy at all. She then looked through some of the designs that attracted Caroline and wrinkled her nose up at them, instead she chose a simple empire line dress with lace sleeves and a slight train at the back. Jane said she would look beautiful. Kitty was not convinced but the design did look very pretty, and she looked forward to the finished product.

  In a matter of days, the dresses had been made and delivered. Kitty was quite surprised at the speed of it all. Normally back in Meryton, her sisters had made their own dresses and it could take weeks. On a fine Friday night, they all climbed into the carriage and set off into town. Mr Bingley had booked one of the boxes for them, which Kitty was very excited about. She knew little of theatre but knew that a box was a very good thing. She didn’t really understand the play at all. It was all singing in some strange tongue and Kitty had to guess what was going on by the actors faces and gestures. It seemed to be some sort of Greek Tragedy. Later she learnt from Caroline, that it was an ancient Greek myth about a princess. Caroline was thrilled to show off her knowledge and make Kitty feel ignorant and stupid. She talked constantly about how, if Kitty had been taught Italian by a proper master like she was as a girl, then the opera would have been much more enjoyable. Kitty cared not about what Caroline had to say and couldn’t imagine enjoying herself anymore than she had and in a letter to Lydia she stated as much:

  Lydia,

  My dear, I wish you could have been there. It was such a grand sight to see with enormous red curtains and golden decor and the costumes and the set - I’ve never seen such things. Oh, and my dress! It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned. Miss Bingley of course had to ruin everything. You know what she said to me upon my emergence from the room? I bet you cannot, but you will not be surprised my dear, she said to me, ‘it’s so, well simple. I know you are more suited to that kind of thing, but you will stick out quite a bit; maybe it’s your complexion.... You will insist on sitting out in the sun. It ages you, you know. I make sure I always have my parasol or my veil. Youth my dear Miss Bennet is the key to finding a good match especially if you have very few things to offer a gentleman.’

  And you know what? Throughout the entire Opera she would not be quiet. she would keep asking me “do you know what she’s saying Miss Bennet?” To which I had to reply I could not and this seemed to amuse her greatly and I could see the smirk on her face. You know in the carriage on the way home as she talked about Mr Remano and how her brother and herself had at least 3 hours a week with him. Their father took particular care that they had only the best language masters. It makes me so angry the way she goes on sometimes Lydia. It’s like she always has to explain how much better off they are, like our father failed somewhere along the line.

  You know she said to
me the other day, how they used to summer at Bath every year but since marrying Jane they haven’t received one letter asking them to come back down and her brother refuses to take her down there. I overheard her one morning talking to her brother after breakfast. Jane was in the parlour and I was just on my way down to meet her. You know what she said? “2000 pounds a year is hardly anything in Bath these days, Charles, as you very well know. The name of Bennet will never even have been mentioned amongst any of them as Lady Catherine De Burgh clearly stated to Mr Darcy after the wedding, Charles you were there.” To which Mr Bingley, bless his heart, for he is such a good man, replied “if that is the attitude of such persons then they are not part of our society.” Which I thought was really sweet. He must love Jane immensely...

  The Christmas season came upon them quite quickly and much to Kitty’s delight a letter arrived from Elizabeth where she reminded them of her invitation to Pemberley for the holidays. Jane read it out loud to everyone after breakfast:

  My Dearest Jane

  Oh, how I miss you and Catherine. Pemberley is such a beautiful historic house; the winter months have created a beautiful almost magical frost across the grounds again. I feel like I’m walking in a fairy land. I still feel quite overwhelmed by it all, yet I’ve been its mistress for a year now. It would be a lovely celebration if you could come and spend Christmas with us. Our mother and father have finally confirmed they will attend and of course Mary will be coming also. They are to arrive on 23rd. It should be quite a pleasant affair. Fitzwilliam has invited some of his good friends up as well after Christmas. They are apparently a very respectable family from another part of the county. The party will also include the two sisters, Julia at fifteen and Josephine at three and twenty...

  “Josephine and Julia? Good heavens that wouldn’t be the Westwood’s by any chance would it?” Caroline interrupted. Jane shook her head

  “I couldn’t tell you Caroline, it doesn’t say their name.” Jane read on

  They will be arriving on 3rd January and I do hope you will still be here by then. Georgiana said that Kitty in particular would get on simply marvellously with little Julia, their attitudes and temperaments being so alike...

  “Charles we simply must go. It has to be the Westwood’s do you not think so?” interrupted Caroline again. Mr Bingley stated that it seemed very likely. “I wonder if it will be all of them. Mr Westwood included? I have not seen them in such a long time. I wonder if he is still single.” And she went on to explain about how exciting it all was and what she should wear, and poor Jane could not finish her letter. If she had been able to Caroline would have learned that the eldest Mr Westwood was not to attend and so all her planning would be rather pointless.

  On 17th December the Blakewood party set off for Pemberley. The journey was short compared to the journey from Meryton, it was less than fifty miles and the road was quite straight forward for the most part. Kitty was excited to be going back to Pemberley. She had seen it once before last Christmas. But she still could not get over the sight before them as the carriage rode up the small path through the Peaks. It was gradually getting higher until at the top, just as the sun was rising was the house. It was set in countless acres of greenery and gardens, behind a beautiful crisp blue lake and embedded deep within the heart of the Dales. Pemberley was an old building but kept in immaculate condition, not a single chip in the walls, it sat like a palace beneath the rising sun. It quite took her breath away. The path descended as gradually as it had risen but this time the house got clearer and clearer. The frost on the ground did create that magical feel that Lizzy had mentioned in her letter and it looked like there had been light snow fall giving the ground that extra twinkle.

  They were met at the gates by the familiar face of the new Mrs Darcy, smiling as always as Jane stepped down and embraced her. Caroline sat there for a moment or two before slowly descending herself, which Kitty knew was intentional just to spite her as she knew the slower she went the longer Kitty would have to wait to see Lizzy.

  “KITTY!” was the shout that she heard the moment she stepped out of the carriage as the now not so shy Georgiana, the beautiful and lively 17-year-old sister of Mr Darcy whom she had gotten along well with last Christmas, came out of the door. Everyone embraced and general conversations about the past year erupted between the sisters as they all were led into the house. Darcy greeted his friend Bingley in the entrance hall with hearty handshakes and a very formal bow to Caroline who returned the gesture politely. Kitty felt slightly sorry for Caroline Bingley, her face expressed emotion very rarely but there was a brief flicker of sadness and loneliness amidst all the merriment of the chattering sisters. Caroline’s own sister she had not seen in many months.

  Her husband and Mr Bingley had, had a falling out not long after the wedding to Jane, when he had gotten a little too drunk and made a very inappropriate remark that will not be repeated by anyone. However, any sympathy Kitty may have felt for Caroline was quickly dissolved when she looked around the hall and commented on how disappointed she was that the portrait of Lady Anne Darcy had been moved onto the other wall and replaced with a new portrait of Elizabeth.

  Chapter Four

  The weather for the next couple of days was quite bad, with heavy snow falls and icy winds, which was nice in a way as it kept everyone in doors and so gave lots of time to talk and to catch up properly. To discuss the latest books and music and for Georgiana to try and convince Kitty to take up music after she observed how nice the new piano forte in the East Parlour was. The snow did eventually stop again, which came as quite a relief as it meant that the Bennet’s’ arrival in the next couple of days would not be delayed and they could take their much-needed carriage trip up into the Dales.

  It was on a pleasant morning that Kitty sat in the parlour writing in her diary. She was in her pale winter gown, her hair neatly pinned back and curled at the front like Georgiana had her hair and it was “most becoming” Jane had said when the two girls had emerged that morning. She was writing in her diary for there was no one else about apart from Mr Darcy’s big bulldog asleep by the fire:

  December 21st. You find me alone today; my sister, Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy went with most of the party into the village this morning shortly after breakfast. I came down with cold quite suddenly and so am housebound. The day is cool, a little cloudy but there is a watery sun. Miss Darcy is still in the house, but she is writing her letters at present. It has been a while since I last wrote in you for I simply have not had the time, but I do today, for I have nothing better to do.

  With a sigh she put her pen down and looked around her. She crossed over to the bulldog and sat down by him stroking his coarse fur affectionately; she’d never had a dog before and quite liked the company.

  You know, two years ago I never thought I Catherine Bennet would be here, at Pemberley. The home of the proud Mr Darcy and his wife, the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet.... How things change... Somewhere between this time two years ago and August of last year something happened. I do not know any of the particulars, all I know is by October both my elder sisters were engaged.

  The bulldog stirred and yawned as it rolled over, so she could scratch his other ear.

  Of course, that is not all that happened that year. Lydia, also got married... to Mr Wickham. If only we could have known, then what he was...

  She stood up and crossed to the desk picking up one of her sister’s letters. Reading aloud…

  “…We had such a time last night Kitty. I wish you could have been there. My dear Wickham had invited some of the officers around for a game or two. It was so exciting. My husband loves cards and is so passionate about the game, the cards just kept going down and the coins just kept coming....”

  “He’s a gambler and a drinker, Lydia!” she exclaimed to the letter sinking down into the chair with a sigh. “Enjoying a good conquest of any young lady foolish enough to fall under his control”. She was muttering to herself when Georgiana poked her head around the do
or. She had heard Kitty’s rant and came to see what was wrong. She sighed and entered the room.

  “You are talking about Mr. Wickham and your sister?” she asked, and Kitty nodded. “I feel for her Kitty, really I do. There is a certain amount of guilt too, for had he succeeded in his plans the other year I might be Mrs Wickham now and not her.” At this Kitty was instantly at her friend’s side as she embraced her protectively.

  “Oh, dear Georgiana” she exclaimed sitting down on the sofa. “Pray do not blame yourself. Mr Wickham is a man of such a cruel nature; he would most likely have run away with Lydia anyway. If anyone is to blame I am, for I knew of the attachment....” Georgiana sighed and sat down beside her friend, resting her head on her shoulder. Kitty kissed her affectionately. “Ohh! If only I was as wise, then as I am now! Lydia may never have fallen prey to him. To consent to an elopement, to hide in London and to only marry after being paid a substantial amount of money. And all this at the time seemed completely harmless to me. I was a foolish girl, Georgiana, and did a lot of silly things. Concealing the attachment being the worst.” Georgiana sat up and looked at her before taking her hands.