Page 36 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

Kitty leaned closer. “They say he insulted Lizzy again the next morning. He met her working with Sarah and said almost nothing to her.”

“Did he indeed?” Wickham said. “Suffered from disorder.” For a moment Kitty thought she had said something wrong, but he smiled. “Please go on.”

“She is the cleverest dog in Hertfordshire,” Kitty said. “Lizzy can stop her at three hundred yards with one whistle. Papa once said that if Sarah were a child, she would outclass all of us at school.”

Wickham laughed. “And what is she like in company?”

“For one thing, she is not a pet,” Kitty said, “and she does not care for strangers. Above all, she listens to Lizzy.”

“Above all?” Wickham asked.

“Lizzy can call her off in the middle of chasing sheep, or a fox, or even another dog. Papa says Sarah has more obedience than any of us.”

“Perhaps your sister ought to bring Sarah to the next assembly,” Wickham said, his tone serious. “It would be a novelty, and I wager the officers would fight for the honor of standing up with her in the quadrille.”

Kitty laughed. She was aware that the joke came at her own expense, but Wickham’s look held her in the joke rather than outside it. She wondered if he made everyone feel this way, or just her.

Wickham turned the conversation back to the neighborhood. “Is Netherfield as fine as everyone says? Would Miss Bennet prefer it to Longbourn?”

“Jane does not care much for fine houses,” Kitty said. “Though anyone might prefer Netherfield to the sheep at Longbourn. Mama says Jane must marry well and save us all from ruin.”

“She will,” Wickham said, without hesitation. “Any man with sense will see her value.”

Kitty blushed for Jane’s sake, though the thought pleased her. “And what do you think of the other ladies in the neighborhood?”

Wickham appeared to consider. “I have not formed my opinions yet. Friends have warned me to be cautious of local gossip.”

The answer sounded rehearsed. Kitty could not tell whether he mocked her or tested her. “There is only one piece of gossip you need, and you will not hear it from anyone but me.”

Wickham leaned in, listening.

“Everyone in Meryton says Mr. Darcy believes himself above us. If you wish to make yourself welcome, you must pretend not to care.”

Wickham’s expression was unreadable for a moment, but then he nodded, as if she had delivered a great truth.

“Thank you,” he said. “You are a clever girl, Miss Catherine. I wish I had known you years ago.”

Kitty felt her skin warm at the praise. She wished the walk could go on, but Lydia’s voice broke over the balustrade, calling for her.

“Kitty!” Lydia’s tone was loud, put out, and tinged with the rivalry she reserved for Kitty alone. “Are you not coming? The officers are all at cards. Nobody cares if you stay.”

“I must go,” Kitty said.

Wickham bowed but neither touched her hand nor offered his arm. The omission felt deliberate.

When she rejoined the assembly, Kitty told herself he had given her a confidence, and that the conversation would continue. She looked back once and saw Wickham standing where she left him, unmoved, arms folded, face half in shadow. He looked at the drive, thinking, or perhaps resting his eyes.

Lydia linked her arm with Kitty’s. “The entire regiment will dine at Longbourn within a week, and I intend to marry a colonel.”

Kitty, believing herself the only girl in Hertfordshire who knew the secret, said nothing.

By the time Kitty returned to Longbourn, the night’s confusion had exhausted her. She woke early the next morning to the longer, more serious confusion of breakfast. She repeated to herself every detail of the gallery walk, determined not to forget a single phrase or the look on Wickham’s face at the last. The morning was new and the dining room cool enough to keep everyone at the table; the larger the audience, the sweeter the retelling.

She entered as though she carried important news. Jane was at her seat, wrapped in a shawl, while Mrs. Bennet scolded Mary for slopping jam on the tablecloth. Lydia arrived last, hair wild and face bright from sleep, and flung herself into the nearest chair without apology.

Kitty waited until everyone was halfway through bread and honey before she spoke, though she caught Jane’s smile and Lydia’s up-and-down glance that took in both her dress and her mood.

“I hope you all slept well, after such an evening,” Kitty said.