“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked. “I assume you also had trouble chasing sleep?”
I was too startled by the request to deny it. There were ample choices of seating options in the library—from the armchairs to the sofas to the window seat—yet Kitty dropped down next to me and relit my candle with her own to extend the bubble of light around us. Trying to make the motion look as natural as possible, I shut my book. The movement left no space for me to replace the ribbon to mark the page, and I carefully tried to commit my place to memory for next time. Although for how long I could fence off a corner of my mind to think of anything other than Kitty was yet to be seen.
“Oh, don’t let me interrupt you,” she said as I pushed Ovid back into his space on the shelf.
“I was already finishing up for the evening,” I lied.
Kitty reached out to trace the tip of her fingers across the spines of the books, her touch delicate and lingering. I resolutely tried not to imagine it against my skin.
“Should you not have finished up for the evening hours ago?” she asked. “What book was so engrossing that it kept you up this long?”
“It is not the book that kept me up,” I said, although I’d never been able to explain my frequent inability to sleep. Sometimes it felt like there was far too much knowledge out there in the world to waste my time sleeping when I could be discovering it; other times I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and rest, but my brain recycled inanities regardless.
Humming, Kitty seemed to listen to my answer but have nothing to say in response. She continued to dance herfingers across the shelves for a moment, before she shifted the topic of conversation entirely.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
If I’d been uncomfortable with her presence in the library already, now I actively wanted to expire rather than stay seated beside her. For a concerning moment I considered setting fire to the sleeve of my coat to form a distraction, but I rather liked the garment and I wasn’t sure I wanted to endure the pain of burns unless it was an absolute necessity. Marking that as my backup plan, I made lying my first choice.
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“I have four sisters, all but one of whom are well practised in the art of holding grudges. I know perfectly well when I am being avoided,” Kitty said with a laugh. “You likely have a very good reason for wanting to stay out of my company, but until I know what it is, I will not be able to apologise for it. And I would like to apologise.”
Even in the dim, flickering candlelight, her smile was disarming. It made me want to tell her every word of the truth, but that was out of the question, so I opted instead for something not entirely a lie.
“It is nothing you’ve done.”
“So you admit you are avoiding me?” she teased, nudging her shoulder against mine.
“Yes,” I admitted. “Forgive me, I am…”
There was no good way to end that sentence. I ducked my head, fiddling with a button on the cuff of my coat. For a longfew moments, Kitty didn’t seem sure what to say, either. Until she shifted to face me, rather than sitting at my side, and straightened her back.
“Well, perhaps we need to start again. Pleased to meet you, Miss Darcy. My name is Catherine, but you are most encouraged to call me Kitty. I am here in your home because spending too long with my mother and only other unmarried sister is insufferable, and I am truly sorry if my presence is equally intolerable to you. If there’s nothing I can do to fix it, I will make arrangements to return to Longbourn as soon as I can.”
“No!” I said, far too quickly. I could tell she was being sincere, and I really didn’t want her to leave. She seemed happy at Pemberley and, even if I had to hide from her for my own sanity, I wanted her to stay that way. “Please, there is no need for you to go.”
“Then tell me,” she said, leaning forwards and floating her hand just above my knee—not touching, but still close enough it made me shiver, “how can I make you comfortable in your own house again?”
Unless she was willing to stop smiling at me, to stop looking so unfailingly beguiling whenever she laughed, there was little hope for me. I didn’t even truly want her to stop.
“You… I… I will join you and Elizabeth tomorrow,” I promised. “It is my problem and not yours, Miss Bennet, I assure you.”
“I must insist you call me Kitty,” she said, letting her hand fall on my knee properly this time.
My coat didn’t cover my legs, so all that was between Kitty’s fingers and my bare skin was the thin fabric of my shift. It felt like gossamer, not putting up any resistance at all to the weight and warmth of her hand.
I was getting myself into something dangerous. There was only one way this kind of thing ended, and it would not be happy. There were no blissfully wedded pairs of women in the pages of the novels that graced the library shelves. Even tales like Frances’s were so unthinkable they were banished from literary tradition. But when I was faced with a pretty girl, I struggled to remember why that was.
“Kitty,” I repeated back to her, hoping the flickering candlelight masked the worst of my blush.
“May I call you Georgiana?” she asked, her hand still on my knee. I needed her to move it. I never wanted her to move it.
There was nothing scandalous about her using my first name. It was common amongst friends of similar standing, and even more so amongst those with family connections. Now that her sister was married to my brother, we were entirely within our rights to refer to each other by our given names. It made sense, even, when there was still more than one unmarried Miss Bennet. No confusion could occur if I called her Kitty.
And it tasted so sweet on my tongue.
I nodded, unable to stop myself. I likely would have given her anything she asked for in that moment, but it was a lucky coincidence that this particular request was something I wasnot entirely opposed to. And not a single thing about it broke any written or unwritten rule of etiquette, except for the way her hand was still warm on my knee and my name on her lips sung in my ears. It was probably best to ignore those specific features of the moment.
