14 • Rejuvenation
“Lizzy?”
Charlotte’s voice was soft yet earnest. James could not tell how long she had been there. He had finished the letter and had gotten lost somewhere in his second reading, his eyes aching and seeing nothing.
“Wretchedly blind,” he said but his voice failed him, hoarse and ragged as it was.
“What?” she asked, her hands curving over his around the letter.
He shook his head as thick tears slid free of his eyes. “How despicable am I.”
“Of all the souls in this world, yours is the last I would declare despicable,” Charlotte scolded. “What’s happened?”
James sniffled as he slowly shook his head. “A just humiliation. I’m absolutely ashamed of myself.”
Charlotte’s thumbs brushed the tears from his face, a palm coming to hold his cheek. “Does this have to do with Lord Darcy?”
James swallowed thickly. “It’s my own wronging of him. It’s Jane’s happiness being destroyed by her own relations.”
Charlotte sighed. “You always did inflict self punishment to an absurd degree. There isn’t a thing you could do to halt Jane’s devotion to you.”
James’ face once more moved from side to side. “Everything I’ve thought…has been wrong.”
Charlotte listened patiently as he relayed an abridged version of the letter to her, leaving out Darcy’s sister and his confession. “My aunt was right and I outright refused to agree with her suspicions. Wickham was leaving so I hadn’t cared what his abrupt liking for Miss King was; that his placing himself in my home was just his desire for a hot meal and my company, not an investigation of my sisters and wealth.”
“Refrain from doing this to yourself,” Charlotte mildly chided. “Wickham may have very much relished your company during his scheme. You needn’t degrade yourself for being charmed by a scoundrel.”
“It is what I deserve,” James quietly disagreed. “I’ve been so cruel to Darcy.”
“Upon justifiable reasons,” Charlotte proffered. “He did in fact act in Jane and Bingley’s separation, but it seems you’ve reached…something of an understanding for one another. And I do think it is quite time you returned to Longbourn.”
He nodded weakly. “I can’t but agree.”
“For entirely different reasons than you’re thinking, you beautiful idiot,” she remarked, pinching his nose to wag his head from side to side. “You need Jane’s company and your father’s. You are never unwelcome here; but I am under no illusion that your heart can heal in a place which isn’t home.”
He swallowed again, nodding with more confidence while she combed her fingers through his hair, rearranging it into something that had not just rolled out of bed as the front gate clattered shut. Mr. Collins was returning to the house, appearing highly pleased with himself.
“I’ve just come from Rosings! The two gentlemen have taken their leave and I was most graciously allowed to impart my well wishes for their travel. It was most fortunate I made a point to visit as I could console Lady Catherine and her daughter, who do so exceedingly feel the loss of company.”
A grimace slowly contorted James’ features as he watched the man stroll his way into his house. “What must it be like? Living so blissfully in ignorance?”
“Not unlike a bee bumping against a stag's arse in a field of wildflowers,” Charlotte remarked as she held the blanket around him so he could come down from the fence. Mr. Collins’s joviality was only stymied by their announcement of James’ leaving. They had once more been invited to dine at Rosings, but James could not say he was sorry to miss it.
Knowing her ladyship would insist upon Marie having a chaperone for her own departure, it was then decided she would join him. Marie seemed hardly bothered to leave early and by midday they were packed and approaching the carriage. Charlotte embraced him for a long moment before it was her husband’s turn to shake his hand.
“I do not know, cousin, if it has yet been expressed, but the favour of your company has been much felt. We know how little there is to tempt anyone to our humble abode. Our plain manner of living, our small rooms and few domestics, and the little we see of the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young man like yourself. I hope you will believe us grateful of your joining us, and that we have done everything in our power to prevent your spending your time unpleasantly.”
James’ brows lifted somewhat, undeniably impressed. Mr. Collins’s statement was so contrary to the first boastings they had first heard of his Rosings settlement. James considered how even Mr. Collins had room for growth—
“We have certainly done our best and most fortunately have it in our power to introduce you to very superior society, and from our connection with Rosings, the frequent means of varying the humble home scene, I think we may flatter ourselves that your Hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irksome…”
Growth in millimeters, James rewrote, while Mr. Collins went on until he was satisfied.
Marie entered the carriage first, where she waited with his feline ward. As the door closed and their journey rocked into motion, she exhaled, “Good gracious! It seems but a day or two since we first came and yet how many things have happened!”
He hummed a sound of acknowledgment but it lacked her spirit. “A great many indeed.”
From thereon their journey was performed without much conversation, and they arrived within hours at the Gardiners’ home. As they had left so soon, there was no time for a letter to arrive announcing them. Regardless, Jane opened the door as if she had been sitting at a window and embraced Jamie when he was barely through the door.
She looked well, her demeanor only altered by her brother’s spirits. She locked eyes with him briefly during the commotion of their arrival in the cramped foyer, but she waited until after dinner and they were retiring for sleep to ask him what was wrong.
James only shook his head as he dragged his shirt over his head. And then he paused. The morning of travel and afternoon of rambunctious family distorted time, but he realized he still had Darcy’s kiss on his lips. His confession felt a month in the past, but his kiss reemerged, fresh and powerful across Jamie’s lips, so he stood in silence, holding his shirt to his chest.
His head jerked toward the sound from the bed, and the ginger head staring back at him. Jane was watching him, but said nothing as he extended an arm to cradle the purring head before it lifted its front paws onto his forearm so his fingers tickled that soft white chest. “I ought to call you ‘Darcy’. You barge right into my time and thoughts…”
The sheets rustled under Jane’s nightgown as she pulled her knees to her chest, watching him contemplatively. He glanced at her and met her eyes, but she simply pressed her lips together in a small, patient smile, waiting for him. He stripped his trousers so he unfolded himself under the covers. Wiggling his fingers, the kitten waddled and pounced, playing on its side and gnawing on his fingers when he stroked its chest and blinking slowly at Jane as she scratched along its forehead.
“Lord Darcy was at Rosings,” he eventually murmured. He could feel Jane’s eyes on him but he had already written this detail to her in their letters. “He…changed my thoughts on Mr. Wickham.”
Tears leaked of their own volition into his pillow. Jane’s lips parted, her legs finding his under the covers. He swallowed and sniffed before he continued the rest of the tale, only leaving out Darcy’s involvement with Bingley.
“So our aunt’s suspicions were correct,” she said softly.
“Ugh!” he breathed. “Don’t tell her, she’ll be insufferable.”
Jane smiled. “You leave me and go and get heartbroken twice, Jamie.”
"You have to have a heart for it to break."
One of her brows lifted. "You have one of those, I'm afraid. A rather large one."
It ached in his chest, and his eyes pressed shut. Hearing someone else say it aloud… “Do I love him, Jane?”
“Wickham, no. But Darcy...I’d have to say so. Curious, but we don’t choose these things, do we.”
His eyes opened, a fresh stream of tears soaking into his pillow. His sister was blurry beside him, but her voice was calm, reassuring, and faintly content. “And so we go on.”
He sniffled as he met her gaze and loosely laced their fingers together. “We go on.”
* * * * * * *
It was some days before they left Gracechurch street, as their aunt wanted time for a letter announcing them to reach Longbourn. The time spent in London was a welcome reprieve; the hustle and bustle shaking free James’ woes before he returned to the quietude of Longbourn and the familiar noise of his family.
On the day they left and reached the inn that marked two-thirds of their journey done, it was initially a lovely surprise to find Kitty and Lydia waving at them from the inn’s dining room window. They fluttered down the stairs to greet their siblings, Lydia informing them that lunch was already being served while she gave fleeting kisses on their cheeks. Kitty hugged James’ middle for a longer moment, her eyes closed as he kissed the top of her head and held her hand on their way up the stairs.
On the table were already cold meats and a cucumber salad. Lydia flung her arm out in gesture, “Is this not nice? We wanted to treat you both—but you must lend us the money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there. See our purchases!”
James and Jane exchanged silent glances while Lydia unpacked her triumphs. James met Kitty’s eyes across the table, her own visage somewhat apologetic yet she was as rosy cheeked as Lydia.
“Look here, I have bought this bonnet, though I do not think it is pretty. I plan to dismember it as soon as I get home to see if I can make it back up any better.”
Jane’s gaze was deadpan while James outright balked, “You wasted money on something you admit you wouldn’t use otherwise?”
“Oh, but there were two or three much uglier in the shop! And I have bought good satin along with it; I think it will be very tolerable. Oh! But I do have some news! Or did you already hear about Wickham and Miss King?”
The elder siblings collectively sighed, jaded as their waiter returned to refill glasses and the table fell silent until he had gone. “What, you thought the waiter must not hear? As if he cared! I dare say he often hears worse things than I am going to say—but he is an ugly fellow. I am glad he is gone; I never saw such a long chin in my life.”
“Because you’ve seen so many chins,” James snapped dryly.
“Oh fine,” Lydia remarked, “but is it not well and good that that intrigue has passed? Wickham is safe! Though I do miss his presence since he has been moved to Brighton.”
“Safe too, is Mary King,” James finished.
Lydia ignored this and continued, “She is a great fool for not putting forth more of an effort if she liked him.”
Jane remarked, “I hope there was no strong attachment on either side.”
“I am sure there was not on his. I will answer for it he never cared three straws about her. How could he about such a nasty little freckled thing?”
James could tell what expression he wore due to Kitty’s reaction of it across from him. He caught the waiter’s arm in passing and apologized crisply, “I am so sorry. We haven’t money to pay for this. You will have to return it to the kitchen.”
“What?” Lydia blurted.
James never looked away from the anxious waiter. “We have been traveling and only have enough for our last carriage. My youngest sibling seems to have spent their last coins on meaningless things. I am so sorry for having bothered you.”
“Lizzy!” Lydia hissed as he stood from the table. Jane smoothly joined him alongside Maria. Kitty hesitated only briefly before Lydia realized she could very realistically be left at the table.
She was either incredibly forgiving or it was a testament of how her thoughts moved as they piled into the carriage and she said, “Well, let us be quite comfortable and snug, and talk and laugh all the way home. Regarding Brighton, I do so want papa to take us all there for the summer! It would be such a delicious scheme, but in the first place, let us hear what has happened to you all. Kitty and I have spent a good number of evenings with Mrs. Forster and her husband, the Colonel; I do say she considers me her very best friend! And the mischief we have gotten up to with their lingering regimental friends during dinner—Have you seen any pleasant men? Have you had any flirting? Being in London, I was in great hopes you would have got a husband. Jane, you will be an old maid soon—”
James made a point to target Kitty’s ticklish ribcage, her gleeful shriek slicing through Lydia’s ranting.
Their reception at home was most kind and welcoming. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to see Jane in undiminished beauty, cupping her face in their small foyer. “Ohho! My darling, you’re prettier every day! Or since I have not seen you, I must have forgotten, but how terrible a mother that would make me.”
Mr. Bennet silently appeared in the doorway, but his warm smile gave him away as he gazed at his children. His arm opened for James to collapse against him, quickly followed by Jane, then Kitty and Lydia. Once dinner arrived he absentmindedly raked his hand through his son’s hair, and then later voiced, “I am glad you are back, Lizzy.”
But it was not solely a Bennet affair, as the herd of Lucases had come to meet Maria, who had only parted with the Bennets upon reaching Meryton. The families packed into the Bennets’ modest but sizable dining room to hear all the news regarding the Collinses, the de Bourghs, and anything else that would elicit great merriment. Mrs. Bennet was eager for Jane’s retelling of London’s fashions, while Lydia’s loud voice hailed anyone who would hear her.
“Mary, I wish you had come with us. As we went along, Kitty and me drew up the blinds and pretended there was nobody in the coach. I should have gone so all the way, if Kitty had not been sick, and when we got to the inn, I do think we behaved very handsomely, for we treated the other three to the nicest luncheon in the world.”
“It wasn’t. And they didn’t,” James undermined, but only for his father’s ears. Mr. Bennet chuckled over his glass of wine but had nothing to say on it.
“And then when we came away it was such fun! I was ready to die of laughter, and then we were so merry all the way home, so loud that anybody might have heard us ten miles off!”
Mary, however, voiced, “Far be it from me to depreciate such pleasures. They would doubtless be congenial with the generality of female minds. But I confess they would have no charms for me. I should infinitely prefer a book.”
Lydia typically listened to nobody for more than half a minute but her jaw thoroughly dropped when Mary added in afterthought, “I can’t much see the appeal of pretending to not exist. No one much cares about an empty carriage passing by. And this reminds me of something I once heard some of the regimental gentlemen say…about the…they called it the ‘female caterwauling,’ I think. They seemed rather displeased by it.”
James snorted on his wine and coughed for several minutes while his father pat him on the back, his own smile never diminishing.
* * * * * * *
The first week of their return was soon gone, and James found himself seated with his mother in her parlour, having gone there for the morning light and she to speak with him.
“Well, Lizzy,” she began as she sorted through sprigs of lavender and mugwort beside him. “What is your opinion now of this sad business of Jane’s? For my part, I am determined never to speak of it again to anybody, but I cannot find out whether Jane saw anything of him in London.”
“She did not. She saw Caroline, but was not wholly received with enthusiasm.”
His mother’s lips parted at this treatment before her features hardened. “Well. They are certainly undeserving young folk. I do not suppose there is the least chance of her getting him now. There is no talk of him or anyone coming to Netherfield in the summer. I have enquired everybody who is likely to know.”
“I do not believe he will ever live at Netherfield again,” James confirmed.
She sighed, waving a purple strand under her nose. “Ah, it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come anyhow, though I shall always say that he used my daughter extremely ill. I did not expect that of him. Of others, of course. Well…hm. But Mr. Bingley did present himself too well. I am beginning to feel melancholic at the idea that Jane may very well die of a broken heart. She has the warmth of first attachment, but given her age and disposition, her love of him has a greater steadiness than first infatuations usually boast.”
“She is stronger than that,” James said hopefully.
His mother’s lavender paused as if she had been lost in her own thoughts before she heard his. He felt her soft, weathered hand cup his face, her thumb stroking along his eye. “The Bingleys may certainly be sorry for what they have done. They would have made a wonderful lady out of Jane, and she a wonderful family out of them; and so too might you have had Bingley’s companionship and an easy means of travel. You always did relish explorations.”
“I do not intend to leave Longbourn, mama,” he countered gently. “This is my home and my inheritance. I won’t abandon it.”
She pushed his silky, roguish hair behind his ear. “You would certainly never hear the end of it from me. This reminds me, I suppose the Collinses live comfortably, do they? If Charlotte is half as sharp as her mother, she is an excellent manager.”
James could not help but smile as he confirmed, “She is, of course.”
“And how was that Catherine de Bourgh? Goodness knows I feel as though I have already met and dined and argued with the woman.”
James laughed, “She is indeed a lady to the tips of her nails, but I shudder to think how you would put her in a place of subordination if she ever crossed your path untowardly.”
Mrs. Bennet held her chin a little higher at that.
* * * * * * *
The Brighton scheme certainly lingered in Lydia’s conversation, for she seemed constantly determined to keep it in people’s minds until she received the answer she liked. James was pleased for his father’s casual refusal to humour such desires, and then further his outright refusal of the trip.
“If one could but go to Brighton!” Lydia lamented. “The sea air would cleanse our spirits; never mind the regiments there! But papa is so disagreeable.”
James had no qualms or reservations in rolling his eyes but he went ignored while his mother and Kitty wholeheartedly agreed.
“A little sea-bathing would se me up forever,” Kitty mused wistfully, having never seen more than Longbourn’s streams.
Although the house’s normal amount of noise reached a new pitch in the form of Kitty slamming a door for possibly the first time in her life. James and Jane stared at their sister, so long aspiring toward Lydia’s likeness in behaviour and looks, however she now stormed through the house looking far more like a version of her mother’s rage and her own person. “What on earth’s happened?” Jane murmured worriedly.
The news would have come from their father, who arrived in the room looking most jaded and annoyed, however Lydia was all but singing through the walls as she swung into the room and announced, “Mrs. Forster’s invited me to Brighton!”
“Who?” James uttered dumbly with a look to Jane, who appeared apprehensive.
“Colonel Forster’s wife!” Lydia exclaimed.
James frowned as his father landed in the chair beside him. “You mean the bloke you harped about before the Netherfield ball? He was single, then.”
“He’s married now!” she chimed, “and these three months have been splendid!”
James was thoroughly perplexed now as he squinted at Jane. “Were we gone three months?”
She shook her head as their father’s baritone softly intervened, “The overly similar Mrs. Forster has shared dear Lydia’s time these past several weeks. They are…remarkable in likeness.”
Mrs. Bennet perked up from where she sat by the window. “That sounds, marvelous, darling! The cards seem to have been dealt in your favour!”
Lydia certain knew it, as her ecstasy demanded everyone’s congratulations, whereas the luckless Kitty eventually entered with such a complexion that her elder siblings knew she had been crying and was on the verge of doing so again. Lydia was wholly inattentive to her feelings.
“I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask me as well as Lydia,” she interrupted the noise of the room. “I have just as much right to be asked as she has. She’s asked me to everything alongside Lydia and I-I am older!”
James’ heart both swelled and ached for her; the amount of bravery Kitty needed to finally step aside and in front of Lydia was monumental, but Lydia was still the louder of the two.
“There is a difference in being older and favourite,” Lydia countered smugly.
Enraged and betrayed, Kitty left the room with Jane rushing after her. Mrs. Bennet practiced some sort of damage control by ushering Lydia outside so at least the trees could listen to her celebration. James, however, turned toward his father. “You cannot possibly be thinking of letting her go with that woman.”
Mr. Bennet was rubbing his temple. “Lydia will never rest easy until she has exposed herself in some public place or other. We can never expect her to do it with so little expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present circumstances.”
There were very few occasions James was disappointed in his father, but his lackluster performance over Lydia was one of them. “She will not be satisfied even if she does! The better to keep her here or somewhere with proper company! Insist she take Kitty! Or Jane! Or that she does not go at all! Married or not, a second Lydia will only catalyze her ruin.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes were tired and apologetic. “And we shall never have peace at Longbourn if she does not go.”
James was flabbergasted. “You’re…you’ve given up on her.”
“Not at all. I daresay Colonel Forster is a sensible man. He did not marry our Lydia after all, but an older and wealthier one. Being so positioned in his rank, he can be counted upon to make sure Lydia does not fall to ruin, for that will reflect badly on him, his wife, and all those under his leadership. Lydia is certainly too poor to be given too much attention.”
“You know that hardly matters to certain people,” James uttered darkly. “Think of Kitty, then. Lydia, who will be declared the most lascivious flirt that ever made her and her family ridiculous, could very well ruin more than herself. Lydia has already marked the pair of them with her own wild volatility and the disdain of all restraint. If this is what it takes to shut Lydia up then Kitty does not deserve it.”
“On the contrary, I find that this separation of the two may very well work toward young Katherine’s favour, though I may be the only one who sees it.”
The chair legs creaked as he stood. “At any rate, Lydia cannot grow many degrees worse, without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest of her life.”
* * * * * * *
And so May arrived, but with it came the surprise of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and their troupe of young ones. Lydia had been insufferable and Kitty sinking lower than any of them had ever seen her. So dark were her eyes and the surrounding skin that even her uncle remarked, “Good heavens, child, whatever has been done to you?”
Lydia had merely overlapped any chance at a response with her accounts of Mrs. Forster’s invitation and her endless attempts at packing. “England’s springs are so long! I find myself packing and unpacking at least thrice a day! I haven’t much time left to make up my mind!”
Mrs. Gardener, however, was wholly uninterested as she drew James aside and said, “And what of your own packing, hm? Are you ready?”
“This is earlier than I expected,” he admitted, and then it occurred to him. “Aunt…could I impose on you?”
She frowned, “I do not grasp your meaning.”
He retraced their steps so his aunt could peek at the rest of the family in the parlour. “Kitty has been like this since we returned from London, since the plans were arranged for Lydia to go to Brighton.”
“A blight of jealousy, then. What am I to do for a child’s envy?”
“Can she come with us?” he said plainly. He had certainly caught his aunt off guard, and before she could process her own surprise he assured, “Kitty very much reflects whosever company she is with. I assure you, with Lydia gone, Kitty is remarkably intelligent and well-spoken.”
His aunt’s brows lifted. “That’s quite a claim, considering I have never seen such a display.”
“Because you have never seen the two apart. Kitty is her own woman, but she has never been allowed to prove it.”
“Nonsense. She’s never grasped the opportunity,” she countered.
“I am sure if you approach the subject with her, she will be most receptive of joining us. Not to mention,” he pointed at the crowd of children around Jane, on whose lap a tail moved, “that furry thing is my charge at the moment. I would be glad to have a bit of help while Jane is otherwise watching your children.”
His aunt was thoroughly dumbfounded. “You’re bringing a cat? It looks neonatal.”
“Not as young as that but just about,” he confirmed.
Mrs. Gardiner stared at him as if waiting for this to be a jape. She huffed, “I don’t suppose you can leave the creature behind?”
“No one in this house could be bothered to stop Lydia’s going to Brighton. I am not counting on them to take care of my charge.”
Mrs. Gardiner appeared annoyed and resigned, but not unhappy. She went forth into the room and sat next to Kitty, who looked every bit like she had never anticipated having her aunt’s attentions trained on her.
James went to his room to begin packing, as his relations wished to leave no later than the morrow’s afternoon. Lydia’s own prattling echoed in his mind as he too wondered what ratio of winter, spring, and summer raiment was appropriate for the three weeks or so they would be gone—
“Lizzy,” said a small voice in the doorway. He turned to face Kitty. She looked haggard, but something in her eyes had lifted. “Can I really come?”
His expression opened innocently. “I’m not paying for this venture. Has aunt invited you? Very good, then.”
He turned back to plop his undergarments into the trunk—
Arms slid around him as Kitty pressed herself to his back. James turned in her embrace to hold her and kiss her head. “It’s not Brighton, but…” he said to her hair.
“I don’t care,” she mumbled into his shirt.
* * * * * * *
His uncle caught up to him while he was in the kitchen with Kitty; she was sitting on the island counter with cold water and lemon as well as a pastry he had made for her while packing various jars and bundles of dried herbs. The effect of the coming trip and her brother’s attentions were slowly but thoroughly rejuvenating her.
“Has my other half told you of the change of plans?”
James looked at him. “Regarding the trip?”
“Yes, our original intent to tour the Lakes has been changed. You see, we are here early because otherwise my work would have put the trip off until July, however at this time the Lakes are unbearably cold and windy. Not to worry, I am sure we’ll happen across a good number of natural streams and brooks, as we will be wandering a great deal through Derbyshire.”
Kitty looked at James, whose knife slipped on the wooden board. “Derby-where?”
His uncle looked puzzled at his reaction. “Derbyshire, of course. Your aunt grew up there, you know, and it is a place many of your own acquaintances have originated. Goodness, I have heard enough of Lydia go on and on about that Wickham fellow; I should think you too would like to see what sort of place makes his stock.”
“Absolutely not,” James blurted.
His uncle was unperturbed. “Nevertheless, your aunt is terribly fond of the place, and I cannot deny its beauty. Have you all packed, Kitty, dear? Be sure you have proper boots, as the rainy season is likely to ruin a wheel or two, and we will be forced to walk some distances.”
He left the kitchen humming to himself, leaving James in mortification. Kitty’s feet swung lethargically as she said, “At least with the rain I won’t have to make any excuse for my curls.”
And so to Derbyshire, they were to go.