“What are you doing with Kitty?”
The correct response would have been one of immediate confusion, with no frame of reference or context. Surprise had me instead show my true fear. I recoiled, any verbal response sticking in my throat. There was no clue to Mary’s judgement on the matter in her voice, only simple interest, but I imagined the worst regardless.
If she told her parents, told anyone, our lives would fall apart. It had the potential to hurt Mary, too, of course. As an unmarried woman, she had to know the opinions suitors had of her family name mattered. A lady having an immoral, disturbed sister would be a consideration weighed up beforea proposal was offered, and that was how people would see Kitty, see us both. Only Mary had shown no interest in marriage the entire time I’d been at Longbourn, so perhaps the risk to her own reputation was a moot point to her.
Far too late to be natural, I slipped on a mask of confusion.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Mary’s own casual demeanour wasn’t an act, and I knew it could stand far longer than mine could. Dropping the pretence, I instead chose to bargain.
“You cannot tell a soul,” I pleaded. “For Kitty’s sake, please. It is all my fault. I was the one who… It was me.”
I couldn’t bring myself to say I’d seduced Kitty against her will, but the sentiment was still, I hoped, evident. It was the only way to keep at least one of us safe, and I would always save Kitty before I saved myself.
“It looked mutual,” Mary said, sceptical.
I wanted to ask her what she’d seen and when, but I didn’t dare. I didn’t want to hear how she would describe it.
“Please, Mary.”
I didn’t know what else to do. If there was no convincing her she’d misunderstood, we were at the mercy of her next action. She could ruin our lives. I felt the weight of my ribs on my lungs, slowly compressing them.
“It doesn’t matter to me what you do,” Mary said eventually. “As long as you are not truly doing something Kitty doesn’t want. You cannot be worse for her than Wickham is for Lydia.”
I blinked at her, my words lost to shock. Perhaps she had indeed misunderstood, or I was misunderstanding her. It seemed impossible that she could be so accepting despite knowing the truth. But Elizabeth had been the same way, and had said nothing against Kitty and me since.
“Lizzy is happy. Jane is happy. Lydia thinks she is happy,” Mary said. “Should Kitty not get that chance, too, even if it is this she wants?”
I managed a nod.
“You will say nothing?” I whispered.
Mary shrugged. “Who would I tell?”
Still too stunned to say more, I seized on to some rogue scrap of courage and reached out to squeeze Mary’s hand.
When I left the library at speed, it was half to flee Mary and half in pursuit of Kitty, whom I’d left waiting for far too long. At some point I needed to tell her just how many of her sisters knew exactly what was going on between us, but for now I wanted to walk a circuit of the garden in blissful ignorance of the rest of the world.
Chapter Fourteen
Such a party we were, we needed two carriages to take us to the assembly rooms in Meryton, and those two carriages wouldn’t have fit one body more. I found myself packed in beside Kitty, opposite Lydia and Mrs. Bennet.
Lydia and I had not spoken since the day before. She didn’t seem inclined to apologise, and I wasn’t keen on sharing my time with her until she did. It was easy to see why Mary detested the presence of all her sisters at once when they could be so cruel.
Mrs. Bennet seemed oblivious to the frosty atmosphere that hung over us, chatting to Kitty at speed about the men she expected to be at the ball. She recited endless lists of names of suitors and how many dances she thoughtKitty should offer them—one was simple courtesy, two indicated interest. She conveniently ignored the fact it was not Kitty who would get to do the asking. Ladies were allowed only to accept or decline, and even the latter came with caveats and rules.
Through the entirety of her mother’s speech, Kitty kept her foot pressed against mine under our skirts. I wanted to take her hand and hold it tight, to distract her from thoughts of an endless parade of men. She had been the one to offer up the notion of a future together, but we still had yet to discuss the idea properly. I tried to ignore the inevitability of our position.
The town ball at Meryton was far louder than the intimate affairs thrown at Pemberley. Anyone could attend, so there was an air of competition that was absent from groupings of friends. This was about matchmaking and networking and displays of power. I hated it.
Far more familiar with Meryton than I was, the rest of the party quickly melted into the congregation. Jane, Lizzy, and Lydia no doubt had friends to catch up with, sharing gossip and updates of their lives. Mrs. Bennet headed directly for the chaperones and spinsters gathered on chairs in the corner. Usually that would be my first and only destination, too, but a gentle hand caught around my wrist and pleading eyes begged for my company.
Had Kitty not been at my side, I would have turned around and immediately returned to wait in the carriage. But when she linked her arm with mine, pulling me into thefray, I was powerless to protest. The music was lively, a dance already in motion as couples paired up opposite one another, waiting to go down the line.
Rather than throw herself into the prescribed list of activities her mother had detailed, Kitty stayed with me. She fetched drinks and kept up a constant, animated monologue in my ear as we traversed the edges of the ballroom. She was so in her element that I forgot I was not in mine, happy to be swept up in her enthusiasm. I could ignore everything I hated with her to distract me from it—I did not even lament my lack of reading material.
