Page 55 of Cousin Conundrum

“I did not propose to Miss Catherine.”

“Do you expect that simply because I was playing battledore that I do not know what happened? Louisa was on the terrace, along with half the village. Everyone heard you, and I could see you two kissing from the other side of the lawn.”

“But I did not propose,” Mr. Bingley cried. “She said she had a letter from a gentleman friend that she dared not show her sisters because she ought not be exchanging letters with a man, but she could not decipher his handwriting. She said she must know what he had written and recalled you observing how terrible my handwriting is, and said I would be able to make out—”

“Catherine Bennet,” Jane whispered, even more vehemently than before.

Kitty turned, raising a finger to her lips for silence.

Jane gave her a hard look.

Kitty scowled back and pressed her ear to the door again.

“—terrible handwriting made you propose to Miss Catherine?” Miss Bingley’s words dripped disbelief.

“No.” The word came out loud and anguished. Silence followed, then, more softly, Mr. Bingley continued, “No. She took me aside by the pianoforte to show me the letter, and pointed to a line and asked me what it said. It was nearly indecipherable, but I made out, ‘Will you marry me.’ So I told her as much, quite happy for her. She kept saying, ‘It says what? Will you what?’ And I kept telling her, louder and louder, and then the music stopped and—” Mr. Bingley broke off with an audible groan. “It stopped right as I yelled out, ‘Marry me,’ and she obviously took it the wrong way, as you can see. I—I am certain if I simply explain it to her…” He trailed off, not sounding certain at all.

Another silence, heavy and crackling.

“Took it the wrong way?” Miss Bingley’s words came out chipped and brittle, filled with the same anger Kitty felt. “Explain it to her? You have been trapped, Charles. You will not get out of this engagement. Not unless we find you the very best attorney England can offer. Where is the letter she gave you? That will help.”

Kitty closed her eyes in despair, seeing the unfolded page drop from Mr. Bingley’s fingers and flutter to the terrace in her mind.

“The letter?”

“Yes. The letter from which she insisted you read while her sister played at a ridiculous volume.” Miss Bingley let out a curse that shot warmth into Kitty’s cheeks. “Such a fool I am. ‘Miss Bingley, you must have out the pianoforte so you may showcase your talents.’ ‘Miss Bingley, you must have battledore. Oh no, not there. It will be nicely shaded on the far side of the yard, near the trees.’ ‘Miss Bingley, picnics are all the thing, do you not think?’ They are shameless.”

“Battledore? What has that to do with anything?”

“Mr. Darcy has gone off into the trees with Miss Archer, searching for a lost shuttlecock.”

“You do not think they mean to trap him as well?”

“I am certain of it, but Mr. Darcy is quite capable of looking after himself. Unlike you. Give me the letter for safe keeping.”

“I, ah, do not have it.”

“You do not have it?”

“I may have dropped it. It is rather a blur. She was all arms and lips and clinging like one of those monsters that drags ships down into the deep. You know. A kraken.”

“A kraken?” Miss Bingley spoke with dangerous softness.

“Ah. Yes. A great big sea creature with tentacles that wrap about ships and—”

“I know what a kraken is, Charles. I simply cannot comprehend why you are speaking of sea monsters when you have just permitted your, and likely my, life to be ruined.”

“I…ah…”

“You will remain inside. I will consult with Louisa. Whatever you do, do not speak to anyone, especially not an Archer. If any dare set foot in this house, run. I do not care how ridiculous you feel doing so. Simply run. Lock yourself in your chambers if you must. I will not have you making this matter any worse than it is.”

“I say, Caroline, there is no need to take that tone. I am not an infant.”

“Then let me take this tone. Jane Bennet may have horrendous relations, connections to trade, and no dowry, but at least she is an exceedingly lovely person. More than that, you are quite obviously in love with her. If you want to have any hope of marrying her, you will lock yourself in your chambers this instant and permit me and Louisa to attempt to fix what you have done.”

The sound of shuffling feet reached Kitty. A door opened and closed deeper in the room. Miss Bingley huffed, then returned to the terrace.

Kitty backed slowly away. Jane sat staring at the curtained window, despair forming lines of grief about her eyes and mouth that her tears used as riverbeds. She clutched Kitty’s handkerchief but didn’t seem to think of applying it.