Chapter Nine #2
They remained where they were for a little while, admiring the kittens, cooing over their tiny features, and praising the mother, who looked every bit as proud as her name entitled her to be.
And, as was right and proper in Kitty’s estimation, her cousin looked exceedingly handsome as he marveled at the sight alongside her.
Until he nearly fell off the ladder.
But this was excessively charming, and Kitty decided it was time they put Mr. Chasuble at ease and tell him they found Duchess.
Unfortunately, this would likely mean that her time with her cousin would come to an end, and she would be forced to resume her lesson with Miss Annesley.
Kitty began to think it most unfair that she should curtail her governess’s enjoyment of the vicar’s company so soon, and after leaving Duchess the offering of bacon she had stuffed into her pocket, she led her companion the long way around the house, not quite in the direction her friends had wandered.
Kitty was pleased at the chance to acquaint herself with the man of whom she had heard so much from William. Though he only ever lamented Will Darcy’s profligate and chaotic extravagance, Kitty had always imagined the man to be just as she found him now – jolly good fun.
Over the next two days, she had the sublime delight of furthering her acquaintance with Will Darcy, despite Miss Annesley’s wariness at permitting him to remain at the manor.
Kitty was sure it would all come out well, and the cousins would be reconciled when William returned.
She also cherished such hopes as her open disposition made it impossible to disguise, for she had over the past year given a great deal of thought to what might happen if she ever actually met the man who had inspired a great many fantastical entities in her diary. He did not disappoint.
***
William returned to Wildewood after suffering two days amongst the Hursts and Miss Bingley, without the company of his friend to make it bearable.
Miss Bingley was unaccountably familiar with him, and took every opportunity to imagine some shared sense of disappointment between them, for they had both been abandoned by the earl and his relations, who had gone off to Kent.
In addition to his dejection at parting with Elizabeth – a sentiment he was convinced the shallow Miss Bingley could never dream of comprehending – William was also stymied by his own fruitless efforts to discover the truth of his origins.
He had applied to several major newspapers and magazines with a request to comb through their records, but had either been ignored, forestalled, or denied by most of them.
He visited the offices of the Gazette, where he was disappointed by their incomplete records; several months of the year he was found were missing from the archives – taken, according to a clerk, by the wife of a merchant who had promised to return them but failed to do so.
He was at least satisfied in his efforts to put an end to his masquerade as Will Darcy.
He confessed his dilemma to Sir Rolland Moore, who sympathized with his predicament and consented to pen a letter addressed to William Worthing, informing him that Will Darcy had died of a sudden apoplexy.
This would put an end to any curiosity about his reprobate cousin at Wildewood, and he would confess the truth to Elizabeth when next he saw her. He prayed it would be soon.
As his carriage came up the front drive, he observed most of his household assembled near the willow tree by the stream, and he alighted before the carriage reached the manor, curious what all the fuss was about.
Miss Annesley and Mr. Chasuble were standing together near the tree, and Kitty came down the ladder of her treehouse to retrieve some milk brought by the butler, while the housekeeper offered her some linens.
Kitty climbed back up to her youthful refuge, laughing merrily.
“Mr. Worthing,” Miss Annesley cried as he stalked over to them. “Mr. Chasuble’s cat has had kittens in the treehouse. Miss Cardew has decided her French lesson today shall be satisfied by speaking only in French to her guests.”
William could indeed hear the dulcet tones of Kitty’s excellent French accent coming from aloft in the branches, and he smiled. “How charming.”
Miss Annesley smiled tightly. “And your cousin….”
“A sad business,” William replied gravely.
Mr. Chasuble came forward to greet him exuberantly, but then he observed William’s mourning attire. “Oh dear, Mr. Worthing – I trust this garb of woe does not betoken some terrible calamity.”
“Unfortunately it does, sir. I have had a letter from some friends of Will Darcy’s, with whom he had been staying in London – he was carried off by a sudden apoplexy last week.
” William produced the letter from his coat pockets and showed it to the vicar and the governess, who only gaped at him with disbelief. “It is a sad, sad blow,” he told them.
“But that is quite impossible,” Miss Annesley gasped, exchanging a queer look with Mr. Chasuble.
“Is that dear William I hear?” Kitty peeked her head out of the treehouse, displayed one of the kittens to him, and then replaced the tiny creature before bounding down the ladder to greet him with an embrace. “William, you will never believe what has happened!”
“Duchess had kittens, I hear.”
“Well, yes, but I meant something even better.” Kitty gestured up at the treehouse with a grand flourish as Charles Bingley clambered into view. He nearly lost his footing on the ladder, and leapt down the last half of the distance, landing on the ground in a sprightly pose.
“Cousin William! Welcome home, old chap! I have come down from London to make amends for all my past wickedness, and inform you that I intend to entirely reform myself. I have, for the last two days, been the devoted caretaker of half a dozen kittens, and it has unlocked new depths of goodness in my heart.”
William glared at his friend as his shock turned to outrage.
He thrust the black-rimmed letter at him.
Bingley shrugged and grinned. “I have experienced a sort of spiritual apoplexy, if you will, having seen the error of my ways. The old Will Darcy was quite exploded – long live the new Will Darcy! I have come to stay with you in the hope that I might learn from your example.”
William felt sheer murder coursing through his veins.
Bingley appeared entirely nonchalant; it was evident he had already done far too well in recommending himself to everybody present.
When Bingley extended a hand for him to shake, William crossed his arms in front of his chest to keep from strangling his puckish friend.
Kitty gasped and tugged at his arm. “William, will you not shake hands with cousin Darcy? He has come all this way, and I believe he desires a reconciliation most earnestly.”