Page 109 of Cousin Conundrum

“…when that militia came through last autumn?” Lydia asked.

Kitty blinked, wondering what the question had been. She truly should listen to Lydia sometimes. They were meant to be best friends, after all. “Yes?” she hazarded. Lydia enjoyed hearing the word ‘yes,’ so that was likely the correct reply.

“Well, when Mama and I go to Pemberley to help Lizzy with the birth of her baby, I am going to see if there are any militia units stationed nearby. I miss all those lovely red coats.”

“Mama says that Jane and Elizabeth are too well married for you to settle for a redcoat.” But then, Mama had also said that Lydia wouldn’t be going with her to Pemberley for the birth of Elizabeth’s first child. Kitty hoped Mrs. Bennet would not be, either. As Kitty corresponded regularly with her older sister, she knew Elizabeth had no desire for their mother’s assistance. She hoped Kitty might be present, but they’d yet to settle on a way for that to happen without Mrs. Bennet appearing at Pemberley instead.

Lydia huffed. “Mama did say that about redcoats, which is why I permitted Miss King to steal that Mr. Wickham’s affections from me, but I want a redcoat. Gentlemen like Mr. Bingley, and especially Mr. Darcy, are so boring.”

“Permitted her?”

Miss King’s dowry was what stole Mr. Wickham’s affections, and they were all fortunate that by the time he realized he couldn’t have that, his militia unit had moved on. Kitty hadn’t liked Mr. Wickham. He reminded her of Willy Steeple, the vicar’s son who got Penelope Long with child. Penelope had eventually returned from her visit to Wales, looking like a ghost of herself, and was now married to a farmer two villages over.

“Certainly. Do you truly believe Miss King, with her horrible freckles, could steal a gentleman from me?”

Kitty shook her head. “But mayhap you should be more like Miss Bingley?” She dared the suggestion only because the idea of Lydia chasing officers filled her with dread.

“Be like Miss Bingley?” Lydia wrinkled her nose. “Old and boring and snooty?”

“Patient,” Kitty corrected, although she might rather say stubborn, were she being accurate. While Kitty kept up a regular correspondence with Caroline, Elizabeth had never warmed to Mr. Bingley’s sister. Their personalities were too strong for them to get on, and Caroline wouldn’t be happy until she married at least as well as Lizzy had. Add to that Elizabeth’s part in her, Jane’s, and Mrs. Hurst’s mutual offense of all being with child at the same time, thus rendering Miss Bingley chaperone-less, and Kitty didn’t know if Caroline and Lizzy would ever reconcile. Still, Kitty enjoyed Caroline’s acerbic nature. Kitty was accustomed to dealing with strong-willed sisters.

“Miss Bingley only pretends she is waiting for the right gentleman to cover up the fact that no one wants her at all.” Lydia tossed her curls. “And I do not see why I cannot have a redcoat. Just because Lizzy married the grandson of an earl, does not mean my life needs to be boring.”

“True,” Kitty agreed, suddenly glum.

Mr. Darcy wasn’t the only grandson of an earl Kitty had met, but he was the only one she’d seen in the past year. Kitty knew she and Mr. Fletcher hadn’t courted. They’d spoken no words concerning plans for the future. Had been, merely, acquaintances. Yet somehow she’d thought he would return.

Especially once word reached them that the Archers’, or rather Dubois’, case was concluded. Despite all the testimony against them, all the proof gathered of their many offenses as the Peacock, and Miss Laura’s testimony against her kin, they’d still been permitted to depart England. Not for a penal colony at the end of the world, but for Brazil and Queen Maria’s court there. It turned out that Madame Dubois’ final ploy worked. As Portugal was one of Britian’s greatest allies, the Crown had seen fit to grant the clemency Queen Maria requested.

Which aggravated Kitty to the point where she’d drawn a rather scathing caricature of the Prince Regent bowing before the crest of the Portuguese monarchy while six gleeful women presented him with flipped up skirts, revealing their be-ruffled bottoms. The most scandalous caricature Kitty had ever drawn, none of the papers were willing to print it. The frustration of that rejection, along with Mr. Fletcher’s failure to return once his testimony was no longer needed, had left Kitty grouchy for months.

“…said we may need to remain here with Jane, which would be awful,” Lydia was saying as Kitty shook off thoughts of Mr. Fletcher. “I am certain Jane needs no help at all. She always does everything well.”

Kitty blinked, the wind tugging at her cloak, wondering what she’d missed. “Jane does, yes.”

“So, we must go to Pemberley to help Lizzy with her baby, and maybe there will be redcoats nearby, for there certainly are not any here and Mama would not let me go to Brighton because Mr. Darcy is the grandson of an earl, and none of it is fair.”

Apparently, while Kitty wasn’t paying attention, Lydia had worked her way up to a froth. “So you may not go to Pemberley?” She truly should attend better.

“Well, I told Mama we must go help Lizzy, and she said she would, but then she had a letter from Lizzy, and now she says Jane will need her more. Mama is certain Jane will have twins.”

“Why would Jane have twins?”

Lydia shrugged. “Mama says Jane does everything twice as well as everyone else, like me. When I am married, I will have twins. I am certain of it.”

Kitty resisted the urge to shake her head and returned to ignoring her sister as they entered Meryton.

It didn’t take long for Lydia to lose herself in choosing ribbons, something to which she could devote considerable attention. Kitty wondered if her sister gave any thought to how many ribbons she could buy if she did marry one of Mr. Darcy’s wealthy friends, rather than an officer, but decided she would rather keep her meeting with Uncle Phillips than discuss the idea. Once Lydia appeared fully engrossed, Kitty slipped from the shop.

She made her way down the street to her uncle’s office and went in. As usual, his clerk, Mr. Pennington, greeted her with a smile. He often gave the impression that he thought she called on her uncle to see him. She wished he hadn’t shifted his attention from Mary, but Mary had taken to telling everyone that she meant to study medicine, even if she would not be permitted to become a doctor because only men could, and that seemed to have put Mr. Pennington off. Which, to Kitty’s mind, meant he wasn’t worthy of her sister.

Rising from behind his desk, Mr. Pennington bowed. “Miss Kitty. How pleasant to see you.”

“Mr. Pennington,” she greeted with a dip of her head. “I am here to meet with my uncle.”

“So you always claim. It must be weighty business you come by on, every third Thursday.” He winked.

“It is,” she assured him, resisting the urge to pull a face.