Page 25 of Cousin Conundrum

Silence filled the parlor as everyone gaped at them through the window.

Kitty looked down at her gown, selected with little care. The bust and arms were a touch loose, the material faded and the cream lace tinged gray from too many washes. The cut was at least three Seasons out of date. She looked like a child wearing her mother’s cast-off clothing.

No, worse. Like a child wearing the housekeeper’s cast-off clothing. They all did, though both Jane and Elizabeth had the sort of posture and poise that led to overlooking what they wore, and Lydia had lowered her neckline so far, and added so much lace, that she appeared more like a harlot who’d dug a gown out of the midden than a gentleman’s daughter.

At least, that was how they all looked to Kitty’s assessing eye now that she’d seen the women who assembled before Longbourn.

“Whoever are they?” Mrs. Bennet breathed, awe in her voice.

“I have no notion.” Even Mr. Bennet sounded subdued. “Mr. Collins mentioned his patroness, but communicated nothing that would lead me to believe she, or any daughters, would accompany him.”

“Perhaps that is not Mr. Collins at all?” Jane suggested.

“Likely, they are at the wrong house.” Elizabeth’s voice held an acerbic edge.

“I imagine we are about to find out.” Mr. Bennet snapped closed the book he held as the group marched forward.

A knock sounded on the front door. One of their maids, Tilly, hurried past the parlor doorway.

“Mr. Collins, come to call on my cousin, Mr. Bennet, accompanied by my cousins, Mrs. Archer and her daughters.”

“Archer?” Elizabeth murmured under her breath, hardly audible over Tilly replying to Mr. Collins in the entrance hall.

Kitty looked to find a frown on her older sister’s face, as if something confounded Elizabeth.

Tilly appeared in the parlor doorway. “A Mr. Collins, sir, mum, and a Mrs. Archer and five Miss Archers.”

“Show them in,” Mr. Bennet said gravely.

Fabric rustled and shuffled as hats, gloves, cloaks, and coats were shed, but little time passed before the gentleman strode in with Mrs. Archer on his arm. Absent his hat, Kitty could see that despite Mr. Collins appearing in his mid-twenties, his hairline had already begun its race for the top of his head. He and Mrs. Archer halted a few steps into the room, and the five younger misses massed behind them.

Kitty came to her feet along with her relations, futilely smoothing her skirt. She endeavored to press the gown to her sides with her arms, to hold the fabric back so the front didn’t gape as much. Why had she not taken the time to pick something that fit better? This gown was more Lydia’s size than hers.

Introductions revealed the five Miss Archers to be, in order of age from eldest to youngest, Misses Jacoline, Edith, Mabel, Catherine called ‘Cat,’ and Laura. Kitty felt her face heat, though why it should discombobulate her so that she must share a name with the refined creature before her, she didn’t know.

“Cat? Truly?” Mrs. Bennet blurted once names were exchanged. “Our Catherine is called Kitty.”

Miss Catherine cast Kitty a pitying look. “Oh, but you poor thing. To be so diminished. You must insist all call you Cat as well. I will not mind one bit.”

Why should she? No one would look twice at Kitty, or even recall her, in a room with Cat there.

“Would you care for tea, Mrs. Archer? Mr. Collins?” Mrs. Bennet offered.

They all stood still. Anyone who could count, and likely many who could not, would easily deduce that there were not enough seats for all the Archers, the Bennets, and Mr. Collins.

“Oh no, dear Mrs. Bennet.” Mrs. Archer spoke with a full, round voice, as if she were far more jolly than her slender frame and impeccable ensemble indicated. “We know we are unexpected and do not mean to put you out. We simply sought a glimpse of Cousin Collins’ future holding before retiring to the property we have let.” She looked about her. “Your home is quite, ah, quaint. Is it not a lovely, quaint sort of place, girls?”

“Yes, Mother,” they intoned, glossy curls bobbing in time to their synchronized nods.

“Cousin Collins will obviously be very comfortable here,” Mrs. Archer concluded.

“You have let a property?” Mrs. Bennet asked sharply. “In the neighborhood?”

“Oh, yes. Cousin Collins did not mention as much when he wrote to you?” Mrs. Archer gave the tall young man a playful swat on the arm. “We have rented a house in your fine village. Cousin Collins asked for our assistance in evaluating his future holding, and my girls and I were eager for some time in the countryside.”

“Where did you let?” Lydia asked with avid interest.

Mrs. Archer frowned. “What is the family name? I am so absent-minded about such things. My dear departed Wallace was always the one to handle such matters. It is not that Hinterfield Park place. We made the attempt, but it was already taken.”