“Patience is a virtue,” Georgiana piously intoned. “However, I would not wish for my dear friend to die. That would be most discourteous of me. So here, I shall give you a name and you must content yourself with that.” She paused, dramatic flair always a subtle Darcy trait, then spoke with the rich tones of one violently in love, “Mr. Sebastian Butler.”
Kitty gasped. “The composer! Truly? But I thought he was merely a friend? You were so specific. Oh my! This is a tale indeed! How did you…?”
“A hint only, I promised, to prevent your perishing!” She laughed, clasping onto Kitty’s hand, her smile radiant. “It is a fabulous tale, Kitty, and I shall do it justice. But first, you. We must somehow manage to cover the past months apart before dawn. Major General Artois would be most vexed with me if his bride approached the altar with purple circles under her eyes from lack of sufficient sleep!”
“If I must sit in suspense I shall, Miss Darcy. But so you know, it is torturing me!”
“Your pain will diminish as you wax eloquent about your true love. Go on. When I left for Europe you were deeply in love, we all knew it, except for you, foolish girl. Tell me of his letters. I wish for details!”
And with a great deal of giggling and exclamations, Kitty told of her strange reluctance to trust a man who, by all outward appearances, was wonderful. She read a few of his letters aloud, having brought them to Netherfield for just this purpose. She told of how her heart gradually opened while he was away, finally admitting to the fullness of her love when the message arrived saying he had been wounded. The agony of waiting, of not knowing, was terrible, but it had served to strengthen her resolve and secure her heart.
“What a difference just a year makes,” she said introspectively. “When Mr. Falke abandoned me I thought the pain more than possible for a heart to bear. My affections for Mr. Falke were real, I know that. I may be fickle to a degree, but not so nonsensical as to fabricate emotions where none exist. Certainly I never experienced an attachment to a man before him. Yet I can now comprehend the variance in my emotions between the two. The heartache and vision of Mr. Falke’s face are detached, whereas my Randall is firmly entrenched.”
“My dearest Kitty, dare I say how altered you are from the girl I met three years ago without offending?” Georgiana spoke with tones of warmth and pride, Kitty blushing at the recollection of how frivolously she once approached life. Lydia’s influence greatly attributed to her shallow attitude, as the stabilizing influence of Georgiana Darcy had positively aided her comportment. Nevertheless, traumas of life and passage of time were the main contributions to forming the woman who was days away from being a wife.
“No offense, Georgiana. It is simply the truth. Dare I say that we have both altered over these years of our friendship? Tribulations of the heart proficiently temper one, do they not?”
“Indeed. Oh yes, Kitty, I know precisely what you mean.”
“Oh! Of course you do! And how thoughtless of me to forget! Foolish, scattered Kitty yet rears her vapid head! Please accept my apologies, my friend. I speak of past affairs that are sure to revive thoughts of Mr. Wickham, even though I know you have asserted no lingering affliction, and compound the insult by brainlessly forgetting to inform you of a matter that personally affects you!”
“Kitty, you must calm yourself. I assure you once again that Mr. Wickham’s name and memory afflict me not in the least. Surely you must know this? After all, if you can so readily distance your emotions after a year, how much easier must it be for me after five?” Georgiana laughed, shaking her head at her distraught friend. “Besides, I was not referring to Mr. Wickham. In fact, that man did not enter my mind! You are silly at times, my dear. Yes, still quite ridiculous!”
“If not Mr. Wickham then I am doubly curious to hear of your romantic entanglements. I shall accede your label of silly and ridiculous gladly in hopes that it will not distress you too greatly when I report that my sister Lydia and her husband will be arriving any day now. The family was informed not two days ago that they planned to attend my wedding. Frankly, most of us wish it were not to be, although it will be nice to see Lydia after so long a separation. Are you distressed overly, my dear?”
Kitty’s inquiry was met with slightly raised brows but no other sign of agitation. “No, I am not distressed. I am sure it will be moderately uncomfortable, but then again I rather doubt it requisite for me to interact with either of them, is it?”
“I see no reason, other than simple politeness if encountered in the crowd. They will be dwelling at Longbourn and the plan is to keep mingling to a minimum.”
“Then you see? All is well. I refuse to allot Mr. Wickham the power to unbalance me. I, like you, have grown stronger and now have a relationship worthy of prideful boasting and happiness. Agreed?”
“Oh, yes, Georgiana! The depths are so different! With Randall everything is different and vastly superior. His touch and kiss, even his eyes upon me are intense as never dreamed or experienced. Dare I say he is perfect without having you laugh at me?”
“No, because I understand that you do not mean he is ‘perfect’ in that his character possesses no faults, as we all have faults. Rather you mean that he is perfect for you. Your match, I suppose. Once again, I know precisely what you mean.”
“Again an allusion to your romance. I am bursting with intrigue!”
“Do not burst as yet, please! Finish your tale, or rather bring it to the present as the story has no end.”
“Being with Randall is a joy unlike anything ever felt, to be sure. That alone convinces me of my love. But the true test was his constancy. I gave so little in the way of a promise, and yet he persevered. Always patient and not demanding. He told me later, after our engagement, that he was certain of his affections and our future after a month!” She shook her head. “I still have difficulty believing that. I was downright rude at times! I was so sure that he would disappoint and wound that I… well, I suppose I was testing him. Or attempting to guard my heart by pushing him away before he burrowed in too deep, only then to have him reject me.”
They were silent for a spell, each dwelling upon their romances with the bizarre twists and chaotic emotions that accompany falling in love.
“Love is a wonderful emotion and state of being,” Georgiana said, breaking the silence, “but hazards are found within.”
“Indeed. I would not wish for anyone other than my Randall, and to have discovered the secret of loving someone and knowing they love you is indescribable. It is well worth the risks from vulnerability!”
At Georgiana’s urging, Kitty completed her romantic tale, replete with detailed information. Laughter was constant, questions frequent, and teasing interspersed. Kitty reached the point of repeating herself and lapsing into saccharine reiterations of Major General Artois’s attributes when another knock on the door announced the arrival of Lizzy.
“My youngest son would choose this night to resist slumber and suffer a bellyache. Have I missed all the romantic disclosures?” Lizzy also wore comfortable sleeping attire, plopping onto a plush chair and pouring a cup of tea before curling her legs and settling in for a lengthy session of girl talk.
“Not all,” Kitty answered her sister. “I related my story in the fullest, all of which you know, Lizzy. I fear I was on the brink of lapsing into maudlin verse and embarrassing namby-pambyisms since Miss Darcy refused to reveal her romance until you arrived.”
“As I suspected!” Lizzy leaned forward, gazing intently at Georgiana, who was blushing profusely. “Indeed, we must hear all. Yet before we embark into what will undoubtedly be a delightful topic with abundant joy and laughter, I regret I must insert an element of disturbance. It is best to have it over and done with, unless, of course, Kitty has already spoken of Mr. Wickham?”