Page 50 of Cousin Conundrum

“Spying on you? I have been standing here waiting for you.”

Not a real answer, but enough of a yes that Kitty decided not to press further. Better to play dumb and be more circumspect in the future. “Waiting for me why?”

“We need a plan for the picnic.”

Kitty nodded, chagrined she hadn’t thought of collaborating with her sister. She was used to keeping secrets, but Elizabeth already knew. She’d heard the Archers as well as Kitty had. Turning, she gestured for Elizabeth to join her in the yard.

Together, they walked to the tall oak in the center and Kitty said, “I must pass on what we heard to Mr. Hurst. I hoped we would call on Netherfield Park, but Mr. Bingley has been calling here.” Satisfaction filled Kitty at that. She and Elizabeth had, between them, engineered several more opportunities for Jane and Mr. Bingley to spend time alone.

“You are certain you can rely on Mr. Hurst?”

“Even if not, I cannot see what harm passing along information to him can do.” Kitty shrugged. “He may even want to warn Mr. Darcy. He is certain to be hunted this afternoon. Stalked by an Archer.” Kitty rather hoped he might be caught. Oh, the delightful caricature she could draw of a wealthy, conceited gentleman being hunted through the trees by a Diana style figure with a bow. Once the engagement announcement was in the papers, everyone would know to whom she referred.

Unless Hurst beat her to it. Perhaps she shouldn’t tell him the bit about Mr. Darcy after all.

“If you are to speak with Mr. Hurst, I will devote my time to ensuring Mr. Bingley is never alone with one of them,” Elizabeth said.

“You should keep Jane with you as well. You do not want to confuse Mr. Bingley as to your affection for him and have him offer for you instead.”

Elizabeth snorted. “As if any man who has seen Jane would offer for me.”

She spoke with her usual light mockery, but for the first time, Kitty wondered how much of her words Elizabeth believed. “You are every bit as lovely as Jane.”

“Am I?” Amusement mingled with some other emotion in Elizabeth’s eyes. “I rather thought myself one of the short, dark-haired sisters.”

Kitty laughed, as she knew Elizabeth meant for her to, but she heard the hurt in her sister’s voice. No, she would not tell Mr. Hurst about the plot against Mr. Darcy. Kitty did not want him warned. He deserved to wed an Archer and be caught up in whatever scandal they attempted to hide. Especially if it somehow involved Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

“Very well. You will stay with Mr. Bingley and Jane, and when I am done speaking with Mr. Hurst, I will join your effort.”

“You will not attempt to safeguard Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked.

Kitty shook her head. “I think not. Safeguarding Mr. Darcy does not tempt me.”

Elizabeth laughed.

They went in for breakfast, Kitty not troubling to return to her room to pretend to sleep until later.

The morning passed quickly, and soon enough, Mr. Collins readied to depart to collect his Archer cousins and escort them to Netherfield Park. Kitty didn’t miss his presence at all as she, her mother, and her sisters all clambered into their carriage. Mr. Bennet rode, ostensibly to give the six of them more room for their gowns, but in truth so he could depart as soon as he liked. As usual, Kitty could not tell if Mama knew his plan and ignored it or lived in a happy state of ignorance.

As they rounded the corner that put them in sight of Netherfield Park’s drive, Kitty spotted the Archers’ lumbering conveyance turning in ahead. Kitty met Elizabeth’s gaze and received a small nod. Elizabeth had seen them as well.

The ride up the drive, a lovely wide lane shaded by mature maples, dragged on forever. Kitty could have walked to the front of the house faster. She kept her palms pressed to her thighs so she wouldn’t tug at her carefully arranged curls or shred the ends of the ribbons securing her bonnet. She did not care for the idea of Archers already swarming about Mr. Bingley, without her or Elizabeth to safeguard him.

Finally, they disembarked, the Robinsons’ carriage behind them and the Archers’ trundling off to the stable. Servants directed them around the house to the back, unnecessary as Mr. Collins and the Archer women already walked a path recently covered in crushed white marble. Even from the back, their gowns were exquisite, Miss Archer’s a gauzy cream Kitty could practically see through now. Wet, it would be almost as if Miss Archer wore nothing.

Poor Mr. Darcy.

Impatient with her parents’ slow pace, Kitty nonetheless followed her mother and sisters, to the tune of Lydia’s chatter about each and every detail upon which her gaze landed. The stones they trod were so bright. Lydia would take a few. The flowers in the beds about them smelled divine. She would pick some on the way back, when the time came to depart. Some that were not yet open as well, for they would last longer.

“…believe ices will not melt if I put them in bowls and wrap my shawl about them?” Lydia was saying as they rounded the side of the house. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, and Mary, continued on ahead into the gathered throng, but Jane and Elizabeth angled left in the direction of the back terrace. “I will not possibly be able to eat as many as I would like today. I must take some home. Surely, Mr. Bingley will not begrudge me some ices.”

“You should have brought a basket,” Kitty replied absently, searching the gathering for Mr. Hurst. Her gaze swept right, then halted for a moment on a net for battledore, set up oddly close to the line of well-trimmed arborvitae that delineated the manicured grounds from the stand of forest beyond. How had the Archers managed to convince Miss Bingley to set up the game, let alone with such perfect placement for their scheme against Mr. Darcy? They certainly were cunning.

“Oh, a basket is a splendid idea. I will ask a servant for one. I am certain Miss Bingley has plenty to spare. Mr. Bingley is very wealthy, after all. I heard tell he has four thousand a year. One could buy ever so many baskets with four thousand a year. And when I call to return it, I will find a way to speak with him alone, as you and Mama should be helping me do. It is not fair that you help only Jane. I am your favorite sister.”

“Yes,” Kitty agreed. There, straight across from them on the far side of the lawn, two lounge chairs sat off to one side of the gathering. Mr. Hurst slept on one with a newspaper draped over him as if he’d been reading.

“Oh, that must be the ices table.” Lydia bounced up on her toes, pointing to the large back terrace to their left, covered with tables, chairs, and…a pianoforte?