Chapter Four
Keeping true to my word, I did not retreat to the shell grotto the next morning. Instead, I joined Elizabeth and Kitty on a walk around the gardens. Neither Kitty nor I made any mention of the library, but the conversation was continuous enough. I let the two sisters do the majority of the talking, content to simply listen as they shared tales of home and excitedly discussed the ball I still was not certain I could bring myself to attend. Both were subjects I could not have weighed in on even if I wanted to, my knowledge of Longbourn sorely lacking and my excitement for the ball nonexistent.
I was unsure exactly what my promise to Kitty entailed when it came to how much time I needed to spend in her company. Ordinarily, even when not actively avoiding guests, I spent much of my day alone. The solitude of the library oran empty drawing room with a freshly tuned piano was too enticing to pass up, but I did not want Kitty to think one morning in her company was all I could bear. When she, Elizabeth, and Darcy retired to the brightest and airiest sitting room downstairs, I decided to join them.
My brother read a letter from Mr. Bingley, while Elizabeth penned one to Jane. I pulled my book out from between the sofa cushions and tried to reacquaint myself with the world ofGulliver’s Travels, but it had been so long since I’d last read any of it that it was more of a chore than a pleasure to reorient myself in the story.
Easily distracted, I watched Kitty instead. She’d taken up a pen and poised herself ready to write a letter of her own, but after barely one or two lines, she returned her writing box to the side table. Walking a circuit of the room, she inspected the paintings and ornaments that adorned it.
Kitty stopped in front of each one for minutes at a time, tilting her head as she took in the detail of the landscapes hung on the walls. She studied the stunning vistas, rolling hills, and endless countryside as if they might hold the answer to a question only she could hear.
Unable to stop myself, I set my book aside and crossed the room to join her. I rarely got the chance to share much of the knowledge I had amassed from Pemberley’s library, and I hoped Kitty would welcome my intrusion. That, and the chance of making her smile. This was safe. This was allowed. Elizabeth and Darcy were looking on, and all I was doing was talking about art.
“It’s a Vernet,” I explained, gesturing to the painting of a ship leaving harbour at sunset that had currently captured her attention. “He was famous for marine paintings.”
Kitty offered me a soft smile I could have lived on for days, before taking a step closer to scrutinise the ship in the centre of the image.
“Where is it of?” she asked.
I didn’t have an answer, but I desperately wanted to give her one. Hoping for help, I turned back to my brother and was surprised to find him watching us, with his attention drawn away from his letter. I took a step away from Kitty.
“That particular view is imaginary, I’m afraid,” he said.
“Pity,” Kitty said, “but I suppose that means it could be sailing anywhere.”
Her words were wistful as she moved on to the next painting. My feet carried me after her, and soon we were on a stroll of the room’s artwork, with me telling her as much as I knew about each pictured location. A few were from this isle, but most were from further afield, windows into the far-flung beauty of the Continent. I’d never seen any of the places in person, but I’d read enough of the travel books in the library to give some context.
Kitty’s eyes sparkled as she asked endless questions, many of which I couldn’t answer. Darcy occasionally interjected with the information Kitty seemed to crave, drawing on the knowledge he’d amassed on his Grand Tour several years earlier. Firsthand research always did exceed the anecdotal musings found in books.
Perhaps it was Kitty’s enthusiasm for knowledge or the way she lit up with each scrap of information she gained, but I found myself utterly incapable of refusing her anything. After a full circle of the room, investigating every painting and several vases, she turned her attention to the chess set on the sideboard.
“Do you play?” she asked, picking up a knight and trotting it around the edge of the board.
My brother’s snort of laughter was masked with a cough, but it earned him a glare from me all the same. Even Elizabeth had to hide a smile. Luckily neither seemed to win Kitty’s attention away from the chess piece in her hand.
“I play a little,” I said cautiously. Then, because this girl made me do foolish things, I added, “Would you care for a game?”
And because the scales in the universe had to be balanced, I was duly punished for my foolishness—she did indeed want to play.
I had played many a game of chess before in my life, but never one quite so absorbing as one played against Kitty Bennet. She focused intently, propping her chin up on her hands to stare at each piece like it held the secrets to victory. Each time she took her turn, the tip of her tongue would rest against the corner of her parted lips. Studying her was far more intriguing than watching the board, and I had never been more grateful that I could reliably play a game of chess five movesahead of any opponent. It required very little effort to manufacture the outcome I wanted, leaving most of my faculties free to admire a far more appealing sight.
I did not play to win. Kitty knew the rules of chess perfectly well, but she was less versed in the strategy. Her moves were predictable and easily defended against, and even when she forced a more complicated order of moves from me, I could tell it was luck rather than skill that prompted it. The game would have been over in minutes if I’d wanted it to end, but I didn’t. I wanted to keep staring.
People in general preferred to win the games they played, and sure enough, Kitty was keen to play again after I led her to a manufactured victory, making the most counterintuitive of moves to ensure she had no option but to instigate a checkmate. I could feel Darcy’s eyes on me, and when I turned to look at him, I found confusion and amusement greeting me. He knew better than anyone that I was not playing properly.
It was the third game that revealed my deception. I had been too focused on handing Kitty another victory that I failed to notice she was calculating her moves just as much as I was. As soon as she had my king trapped, she challenged me.
“Why don’t you want to win? I left openings for you at least four times. Lydia could have won that game, and she only looks at the board once every few moves.”
Colour rushed to fill my cheeks.
“I must be distracted,” I said, the words no shade of a lie. Even if I had intended to win, I wasn’t certain I could depend on my ability to focus. “My apologies.”
“I confess I haven’t been much better. If you wish to keep playing, perhaps Mr. Darcy will take my place?” Kitty suggested.
My brother didn’t even look up from his letter as he replied.
“That won’t be happening.” He turned over his sheet of paper, either oblivious to or unaffected by Kitty’s confusion. “My sister has been going easy on you. I have never seen her lose a game she wanted to win, and while she may be kind to you, I would not get the same treatment.”
