Miss Bennet's Hungry Heart
Title: Miss Bennet’s Hungry Heart
Fandom: Pride and Prejudice
Rating/Genre: g/femslash, angst, mentions of slash and het
Characters/Pairing: Kitty Bennet, Georgiana Darcy, Mr and Mrs Bennet, Lady Lucas, mentions almost everyone else, a few original characters; Kitty/Georgiana, Mr Bennet/omc, Mary Bennet/omc, all canon het pairings.
Summary: Kitty and Georgiana became friends when Elizabeth Bennet married Fitzwilliam Darcy. Seven years later, Georgiana finds out what she wants to do with her life, and Kitty finds herself facing new thoughts…
Word count: 7 770
Spoilers/Warnings: No, if you read the book/saw the movie you know who married whom (and if you didn’t you probably wouldn’t read this anyway…)/No.
Prompt: 046. Write, 100_women.
Notes: The Mary Crawley mentioned in this fic is not The Mary Crawley of the TV series Downton Abbey, that would be terribly anachronistic, but her grandmother’s great aunt. I just thought it amusing to sort of take one original character from another fandom. (This fic has nothing to do with Downton Abbey aside from that reference, so not a real crossover!)
”Now tell me, have you had any news from Mary? I trust both she and the infant are well, with a doctor for husband and father!”
Lady Lucas laughed heartily. Kitty forced a smile and hoped it looked somewhat genuine.
“Yes, thank you for asking. They are both quite well. Mary writes that little Rosamond can almost sit up by herself now.”
“That is wonderful!” Lady Lucas clasped her hands together as if she thanked Heaven for the news. “Do promise to tell me next time they come to visit Longbourn.”
Kitty promised. She was seated ever so calmly and elegantly on the sofa opposite of Lady Lucas. The sofas were new, she had been informed; a gift from Collins, handpicked by the old witch herself - that last part was Kitty’s own wording, not spoken aloud in front of Lady Lucas. Unlike the older woman, Kitty did not feel thankful; she mostly felt like asking the Heaven for mercy, wishing the visit to be over already.
But Lady Lucas proceeded to ask about Jane’s children, and about Elizabeth’s, and then it was Kitty’s turn to ask about Charlotte, her two sons and her husband (Kitty had, surprisingly enough, learned to quite like Charlotte - the older woman had always been more Lizzy’s friend, but she was one of the few people Kitty knew who had changed very little after her marriage, which was refreshing and comforting), and after that they chatted some more about mutual acquaintances, and finally, finally, could she leave without hurting the woman’s feelings.
Kitty left Lucas Lodge with a new cake recipe and a small jar of strawberry jam, with compliments to Mrs Bennet who had been confined to bed for four days already. Her condition was not serious, but enough keep her from seeing people and thus driving Kitty mad. Kitty had gone to Lady Lucas in desperate search for news and gossip that could make her mother feel better.
Why, why, she wondered, did old women talk so much? Even about Mary! People had never cared much for Mary, but now that she was married and lived far away from Meryton she was suddenly the talk of the town, or at least one of the things people liked to talk about.
In a way she could understand it. Charlotte, Lizzie and Jane’s marriages were old news, Lydia appeared to be more or less forgotten, the younger Lucases were not yet married (except Maria, who had died in childbirth), but Mary had only been married for less than two years. And she was the girl nobody thought would get married at all.
Kitty was happy for her older sister, it was not that, and it wasn’t that she missed her exactly. It was just so strange to her, still, to be the only Miss Bennet left.
***
It had happened one summer at Pemberley. Kitty and Mary both enjoyed spending time there. They liked to play with their young nieces and nephews - Lizzie and Fitz had two of each sex - and Kitty truly enjoyed the company of Georgiana. The young Miss Darcy had taken Kitty to her heart almost immediately when they first met, and their friendship only deepened over the years.
As she got older, Georgiana grew less shy, but more accomplished and also more bookish. She still drew and played the pianoforte but she preferred to sit in the library and study books about history, geography and art.
That summer, almost seven years after the first Darcy/Bennet wedding, a distant cousin of Fitzwilliam and Georgiana had visited. Doctor Thomas Darcy was a good man, intelligent, not very young and not too handsome - nice, and not at all the kind of man Kitty used to fancy. But there was something about him and his pleasant manners, his politeness and constant attention to the ladies that made Kitty’s heart ache.
Her heart ached because she believed she was going to lose Georgiana, who was already drifting away from her, keeping her distance in a way she never had before, because the two of them had been friends for years. Kitty thought the reason must be that Georgiana was in love. And Georgiana was the most beautiful and desirable woman of them all, so of course the man was going to propose to her before the summer was over.
Then it turned out that the doctor preferred Mary Bennet over any other lady, and she returned his affection, and everything was settled in the blink of an eye, or almost.
It was such a relief and no summer sunset had ever looked more beautiful to her than the evening she wasn’t going to lose Georgiana after all, because it was Mary who was glowing with happiness.
Kitty tried not to be too cheerful when she went to comfort her friend. Georgiana, however, seemed to have gotten the wrong impression - that Kitty was sad to see Mary get married, perhaps because she felt a romantic attachment to the doctor.
“Oh, dearest Kitty!” Georgiana exclaimed. “Talk to me, please. Let me share your pain, although I know that cannot ease it.”
“That’s funny”, Kitty said, “I was going to say the same thing to you, Georgiana. I don’t understand you. I thought it was you who needed comforting - to lose another sister to the world of married women does not cause me any pain, but you - you have lost the hope… the hope of…”
“The hope of what?”
Kitty didn’t understand. Georgiana clearly had had something on her mind for a long time, so why didn’t she admit it? Doesn’t she trust me? she wondered.
“Well”, she said, “I thought that perhaps you… love him…”
Georgiana laughed, beautifully as only she knew how, and denied it so ardently that Kitty had to believe her.
The fact that Georgiana Darcy had remained unmarried seemed a mystery to most people. Caroline still sometimes insinuated that it had something to do with her brother Charles, but that was not true. Georgiana had never had any feelings for him, or for any man, she told Kitty. Well, there had been Wickham, but she had been young and foolish.
Kitty understood her. She had thought once that she was in love with that young officer from long ago, Denny, but it had been a most childish thing and she had not known what love was.
She still didn’t, she knew as much. She wanted to know, naturally, but when she was with her friend, she usually didn’t think about it.
“What about you, Kitty? Are you not in love?”
“No”, said Kitty, and both of them laughed again.
They sat on Georgiana’s bed and Georgiana played with a lock of Kitty’s hair, and life was perfect. Until Georgiana told her. Told her the reason why she had been so preoccupied all summer, why her correspondence with one of her aunts had seemed to be so important to her.
Because it was important. Georgiana told Kitty that she and her aunt had been planning a long trip - to France, Greece and Italy - but she had felt it was best not to tell anyone until all necessary preparations were made.
“You know”, she explained, “how my brother still thinks I’m a child even now when I am twenty-four, and he would probably try to stop me if he could. But Kitty, he can’t! I am determined to make this happen!”
Georgiana’s eyes sparkled with excitement. She sometimes looked like that when she had studied, too, but this time, her cheeks were burning more intensely than ever before.
Judging by the way her friend looked at her, Kitty realised that she should cheer and be happy, but her voice was dull and small when she said:
“I imagine such a trip would take you away from Pemberley for quite some time…”
“Of course”, Georgiana replied, “and I think you understand how much I am looking forward to it. We’ll be gone for at least two years.”
“Two years!” Kitty couldn’t hide her shock. “But what on Earth shall you be doing for such a long time?”
“Oh, Kitty!” Georgiana took her hand and squeezed it tight. “But of course I need time. We are not going to stay for long in Paris, we are going to Rome and Athens and so many other exciting places. To see the ancient art, Kitty, the buildings, the sculptures, to walk the streets where Ovid and Virgil once walked, to feel the wings of history!”
“But why? I thought… with all the books in Pemberley’s library… aren’t you happy here?”
“It’s not at all the same. There are some things you cannot learn from books.”
Kitty pulled her hand away and turned her head to the wall, as if she was studying the picture that was hanging there. Tears were building up from somewhere deep inside where she hadn’t even known tears could lie in ambush so treacherously. So Georgiana was leaving after all.
They were quiet. Georgiana’s enthusiasm seemed to fade, and Kitty felt guilty and ashamed of her reaction, but there was nothing she could do to feign a joy she did not feel.
“Oh!” Georgiana gasped and reached for Kitty again, tugged at her arm and made her look at her. “Do not think that I leave you without regrets. Kitty, what if I don’t have to leave you? You can go with us!”
The prospect of travelling with Georgiana and Miss Darcy - a lady who had never married but who had her independence and was free to do whatever she wanted - made her spirits rise.
Their plan did not, however, become reality so easily.
Fitzwilliam Darcy was a man who was more than a little protective of his sister, and talking him into letting her go with her aunt proved to be difficult. But it was not impossible; he loved her more than he wanted to see her unhappy, and when it became clear to him that the cultural excursion really was important to Georgiana, he gave in. He trusted their aunt to take good care of her, and another lady they were acquainted with already lived in Rome since many years. Her name was Mary Crawley, she was the eldest daughter of Lord Grantham of Downton Abbey, and when he spoke in favour of the idea (and Lizzie did as well), Fitz said nothing more.
But if Mr Darcy was a hard nut to crack, Mrs Bennet turned out to be worse. Kitty’s father could possibly had been persuaded if she had been wise enough to talk to him first and let him break the news to his wife. But Kitty’s mother simply wouldn’t hear of it. It didn’t matter that Kitty tried to argue her age - twenty-five, and what was there for her to do at home anyway? - and the fact that Greece and Rome hardly was the moon or anything insane like that. Even letters from Lizzie, Fitz and Miss Darcy had no effect on her.
No one had heard her cry that much since Lydia’s elopement came out. When she had begged for compassion for her poor nerves fifty times or more, Kitty couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’ll stay here, Mama”, she sighed. “Don’t cry. Don’t worry, I won’t go.”
“Oh Kitty”, her mother sobbed, “I could lose you to a man if I had to, but to see you leave this house for foreign countries and God knows what dreadful dangers…”
“Yes, Mama.” Kitty hugged her tight. “Don’t cry anymore.”
It was Kitty who cried, in her room, at night.
***
That had been two years ago. Georgiana sent letters - they were wonderful and full of affection, although Kitty sometimes thought that she spoke a little too fondly of Lady Mary - and Kitty wrote back to her, of course. It was ironic, she thought, that she had so much time to write but so little to write about.
Meryton was hardly an interesting place. Same old people, same old gossip. Aunt Gardiner often said she would like to travel with Kitty like she had done with Lizzie before; she was under the impression that their brief visit to Pemberley had something to do with the match finally being made, and who knows if Kitty couldn’t be as fortunate if she only had an opportunity to get away from home, but Mr Gardiner had passed away and that made her less inclined to leave her own home or even to chaperone a niece in her home in London.
There were few places for Kitty to go. She was always welcome to stay with any of her sisters, of course, but she and Mary had never been close friends. Besides, there was something smug about Mary since she got married, or was it only imagination?
She could always go to Netherfield, of course, but it was too close to home - and actually, against all rhyme and reason - too much like home to be much of a change. (Kitty loved Jane dearly and would never tell her this.) She also had an open invitation to Pemberley, but the place had lost some of its appeal without Georgiana there, and although she was fond of her sister and brother-in-law, there was something about them that was getting on her nerves.
“Lizzie and her husband”, Mrs Bennet liked to say, “are so happy together; seeing them, one would think they got married last week!”
She was right. When other husbands called their wives “dearest” and patted their hands at most, when in public, Fitz openly called Lizzie “beloved” and put his arms around her waist. And she, she was not ashamed to kiss him even when they had company.
Bingley and Jane at least had the modesty to keep their hands to themselves and just look at each other. “Like two crazy lovebirds”, Mary once commented; she was of the old school herself, for which Kitty was grateful.
I am happy for my sisters, she sometimes reminded herself, their happiness makes me happy and it’s a blessing for our parents, and I love all their children!
Of course she was happy for them. And no children had ever had a more devoted aunt. She was quite happy, truly, she was!
And yet there were times when she would gladly trade all of them for one loving word from someone who only had eyes for her, someone who could give her just one sweet kiss.
Am I a bad person? she asked herself, Am I selfish to feel that I want more, when I have so much; a home, a comfortable life, a loving family?
Sometimes, she just wanted to get as far away from her loving family as possible. Other girls married and left their parent’s house, but she just stayed there year after year, doing the same old things, the eternal girl, and her mother’s friends never teased her about young men or asked anything about her life anymore. It was as if they expected that she was going to stay there forever, by her mother’s side.
She never said these things out loud, and she tried to avoid them when writing to Georgiana. To have someone to write to was at least a great comfort. Sometimes it took time for Georgiana's letters to find their way across the countries, but she got them eventually. She felt as if she knew Georgiana’s handwriting better than her own - it certainly was better looking - and as the years passed, she awaited Georgiana’s return impatiently.
One rainy day in March, when the travelling Darcys had been gone for two years, she got a letter saying that they were staying away one more year.
But next summer, Georgiana wrote, we shall be together at dear old Pemberley again! That I promise you. I must confess that I miss it, a little, at times. On the other hand, here, they have houses where one can stumble across dust-covered ancient fragments of poetry in Greek!
To Kitty, the writings one could find in the library at Pemberley were ancient enough, but she knew that it would be unwise to voice such opinions.
Enclosed with the letter was a small drawing of a statue that Georgiana said was Hermes, and Kitty appreciated it with genuine awe and admiration.
Georgiana could draw excellently - a skill Kitty had never learned - and she liked to send Kitty something sometimes that showed her surroundings, a person, or some detail or another that were of particular interest. Once she wrote:
Dearest Kitty, I send you this small sketch to show you that I am always thinking of you. You see, I walk past this statue every morning, and she reminds me of you. Except that unlike hers, your eyes are full of life, and her eternal soft smile will never become a full laugh. So the inevitable conclusion is that you, my friend, is a hundred times better, but you are not here, so I’ll have to find comfort in this ancient image of you.
The drawing was very good - as if anything by that hand could be less than that - but Kitty had to admit that she didn’t quite see the resemblance.
She asked her parents for advice.
“Nonsense”, Mrs Bennet said. “Why are young girls so sentimental?”
“I think”, Mr Bennet said with a small smile, “that perhaps Georgiana looks at things with her heart rather than with her eyes.”
“You, Mr Bennet”, said Mrs Bennet, “are getting sillier and sillier with every grandchild we get.”
“If you say so, my dear”, replied the old gentleman, and his wife had a lot to say on the matter.
Mrs Bennet was getting worked up and ready for bickering, so Kitty excused herself. She was going to reply to the letter. Not that she had many things to write about, but she could at least thank Georgiana for the ‘portrait’.
My Dear! began another letter. I am writing this in the light of a candle in my room. It is very late but I cannot sleep. Mary Crawley and I have taken a midnight walk, not in the ruins - that would be unwise, even if the moon shines brightly enough for us to see quite well - but on the hill above them. Oh, if you only could see this view! I don’t have words enough… I wish I could take you by the hand and show you everything, and kiss you - for one cannot walk in the moonlight with Kitty Bennet without wanting to kiss her - and we would be so happy here.
Kitty blushed and her hands trembled. The mention of Mary Crawley bothered her, but Georgiana hadn’t said she wanted to kiss her, and she had never expressed her affection so frankly before.
She wondered then what it would be like to be with Georgiana above those ruins she so loved, what it would be like if Georgiana looked at her like Fitz looked at Lizzie, and if she hadn’t already been sitting she would have fainted when a big wave of emotion hit her as the thoughts took shape. Her chest was heaving as if she didn’t get enough air and her cheeks were burning.
She took the letter in her hands, brought it to her lips and kissed it where the sender had written her signature. Her lips were tingling, she was tingling all over, and suddenly she knew that she wanted to kiss Georgiana Darcy. Not kiss her like a sister, but like a lover.
I love her, she realised. This is love.
Kitty replied to the letter with her heart in the tip of her pen, or so it felt. Even if the ink wasn’t red like her blood, it could very well have been. She talked of all her love and longing, and she even mentioned her silly impulse to kiss the letter.
She giggled to herself, unbelievably giddy and light-hearted, and she felt a glowing sense of pride on top of it all - the way a man feels, she supposed, when he has proposed to a woman and been accepted. Or something close to it, at least.
Georgiana’s next letter began with descriptions of Etruscan murals, and a short but well-written and witty exposition of a passage from Virgil, and then she wrote:
I must confess that your letter - I received it last week - made me quite flustered - I don't know what I wrote in my last letter, must have written something very silly indeed for you to respond with such words! I have never known you so emotional before… but yes! I kiss your letters, too, my Kitty. And I wish you were here, and I miss you! Many kisses, your Georgiana who loves you.
And so commenced the happiest months in the life of Kitty Bennet so far.
***
Dear Kitty, I cannot write you a long letter because we are leaving for Genoa this afternoon, where and acquaintance of Mary has a villa where we’ll be staying. These last few weeks have been very intense when it comes to the excavations. I am tired, but I shall rest when we reach our destination.
Then there was a post scriptum longer than the first part of the letter:
Do not tell my brother about this, but we might get to meet Lord Byron in Genoa! I must confess that I quite like the prospect of that. Also, you know I don’t gossip, but since this is about your flesh and blood, dearest Kitty: rumour has it that the companion of his mistress is a certain Mrs Wickham, née Bennet. Luckily, Wickham is not in the country, it seems. I would not like to meet him, although I do not mind getting acquainted with your sister. I wonder if she is going to know who I am. Isn’t that a fine joke! (Like you would have said back in the days when you were still making jokes and laughing about all things. You have been so serious these last couple of years, but I have to say your last letters have been more lively. I am very glad about that. Has life so far been a disappointment to you, Kitty? I do so wish you could have been here.)
Was Kitty’s life a disappointment? She thought about it, and of course, in a way, it was. Her life was dull and uneventful. But she did have a large and growing family who loved her, something she never forgot when she counted her blessings. Still, she found less and less things to laugh and joke about, at least not in the way she had done before. Georgiana was referring to the time when she had had nothing but balls and officers on her mind, but that seemed an eternity ago. Her mother sometimes complained that she was ‘turning into Mary’ - but her father said that Kitty was perhaps just turning into herself.
What had changed her? Losing Lydia, adapting to Georgiana, becoming aware of aching needs that earlier only had been like faint whispers…
Her father once said that he wished he could do more for her - that she had gone from living in Lydia’s shadow to living in Georgiana’s. And maybe he was right, but it didn’t matter - not anymore, not now that she was truly loved.
She was not unhappy and she was far from disappointed: she knew that Georgiana must be coming home soon. And one day she got the letter that confirmed it:
My darling, thank you for the letter you sent me. I write hastily to tell you this: My aunt’s health is beginning to worry us all, and she has now decided to return to England very soon. I am not happy to leave the places and the people I have gotten to know, but I am happy that I am going to see you again soon. Please promise to be at Pemberley when we return, in the beginning of May!
It was still April, and Kitty waited almost feverishly for May. She didn’t think any human being had ever been happier than she was. The spring was wonderful, the colours of the flowers brighter than ever before, and the familiar surroundings looked like something from a fairytale.
Mrs Bennet grunted and found it more than a little vexing that Kitty had to go to Pemberley during the most difficult time of the year - Kitty had no idea why it was so difficult - but nothing could stop her from going in the end of April.
Kitty tried to act normal but she was too full of emotions to eat or sleep properly while she waited for Georgiana to return.
When the two travelling ladies finally arrived, the older Miss Darcy was brought to bed almost immediately, and Georgiana saw to it that she was resting comfortably before she returned to her waiting family. She looked a little worn after the long journey, but as beautiful as ever, or more.
Kitty barely spoke at all. She forced herself to step back, for the sake of Fitz who had missed his sister more than he was willing to admit. The children were shy; they looked at the young lady with awe because they had heard about her from her letters and the others’ stories, but only Will, the oldest, had any real memories of her. Georgiana was, however, so sweet and easy to love that they soon were completely at ease around her.
Kitty hoped that her friend - her ‘fiancée’ as she secretly thought when she was alone somewhere where no one could see her blush - would want to talk to her alone before the evening was over, but that did not happen. Georgiana was tired.
“We’ll take a long walk and talk tomorrow”, she promised, and hurried off to bed very soon after the children had been sent to their rooms for the night.
There was an odd expression on her face as she left that Kitty could have described as ‘nervous’, but she told herself that it couldn’t be, it was only fatigue.
Georgiana did not come down from her room until it was almost noon the next day, but she still looked tired. Kitty, who had slept very little during the night, had been playing absentmindedly with the children for a couple of hours already. She was yawning but smiled widely as Georgiana entered the room, wearing a simple but modern blue dress, probably acquired abroad.
Kitty was wide awake all of a sudden, if a bit weak to her knees, and her heart was fluttering.
“Good morning”, she said, and her friend replied politely and kindly but occupied herself immediately with the children, and later with her brother and sister-in-law, and said very little to Kitty.
There was so much to tell anyway, about Rome and Athens and about people and the journey home. Kitty told herself that she mustn’t be selfish; she was not the only one who had waited a long time for Georgiana to return.
But it was strange. As if the three years of writing letters that had deepened their friendship just didn’t exist anymore, and nor did the years of friendship before the letters. Why did Georgiana look at her, if she looked at all, as if she were a complete stranger?
Georgiana excused herself early in the evening to go and sit with her sick aunt. That was a valid excuse of course, and Kitty told herself again not to be so childish. How could she feel as if she had offended her friend, when they had hardly spoken at all?
Not until the third day did they take their promised walk. It was a fine day for walking, dry and sunny but not too hot.
“Look around you”, Kitty said, “the nature smiles upon your return.”
Georgiana looked and smiled, but with a little sigh.
“Perhaps our English trees and flowers look dull to you now”, Kitty offered, “now that you have seen the world.”
“Oh no”, the other girl replied, “it’s not like I have ‘seen the world’ yet, Kitty. Just a small part of Europe.”
Kitty, who had only seen a very small part of England and had little hope of ever seeing anything more, found nothing to say. They walked in silence for a while, until Kitty forced her thoughts away from flowers and birds - she wanted to talk about how pretty everything looked, but it didn't feel like Georgiana was interested. Kitty tried to ask Georgiana about her new dresses, hats and shoes, and for a moment she felt like her old self as she did so. She thought about Lydia and her love of ribbons and hats. But Georgiana’s answers to the questions were short and uninspired.
“Did you ever meet Lord Byron in Genoa?” Kitty asked.
“No”, Georgiana said and there was finally a spark of life, something genuine in her voice. “It would have been interesting, I’m sure, but we did not get the opportunity. He had already left for other adventures when we got there.”
Does she regret it? Kitty wondered. Regret that she didn’t stay long enough to meet him? The infamous and wonderful poet, would he have made her heart swell with admiration, would she have smiled at him, perhaps played the pianoforte at his house?
“What about other people?” she asked. “Did you meet anyone interesting?”
“I met a lot of people all the time, Kitty. Scholars and artists and adventurers. But people were not my priority.”
“Of course not”, Kitty mumbled, and added: “How do you feel about being back here?”
Georgiana hesitated, “I don’t know… I can’t say…”
“This is your home. Your family…”
“I know.” Georgiana stopped and turned around, and Kitty followed. The house was far behind them, splendid and grand - to Kitty it was like a second home, and now she tried to see it with her friend’s eyes. But she did not know what Georgiana’s eyes really saw when they rested upon it.
“It feels strange”, Georgiana said after a few more moments’ consideration. “I know that this is home, but… it happened so quickly.”
“Quickly?” Kitty did not understand. “Didn’t the journey back take you a very long time, with your aunt ill and unable to move quickly?”
“Of course. That’s not what I meant. It just feels strange to be back, that’s all.”
They walked in silence some more, and Kitty felt a lump in her throat. Would Georgiana feel a little bit better if Kitty took her hand? But Kitty was right by her side; her hand was free to take if Georgiana wanted it.
Kitty had walked the same grounds alone, alone but for a letter from abroad, and she had walked around Meryton even more, she had walked from Longbourn to Netherfield and back, but she had never felt lonely, not as long as she had imagined Georgiana walking with her, laughing sweetly, with her arm around Kitty’s waist.
How can it be that I feel this distance between us now?
Kitty had wanted to talk about love, about hope and joy, about their happiness, but she said nothing more.
When they were back at the house they parted with a small smile and a promise to talk more soon. Kitty could not get away from Georgiana soon enough. It was a strange feeling to say the least. But she feared that she might cry and indeed; as soon as she was alone in her room, she did.
It is only natural, she said to herself, that she seems different, because she is still tired. She’s going to get used to being here soon enough; the love from everyone around her will help. Fitz and Lizzie, the little ones, and I… I love her more than anyone!
She said in her letters that she loved me. She does love me.
As if Kitty’s whole life depended on it, she clung to the thought, to the hope, to the knowledge of what was burning inside her heart. If Georgiana had ever felt even a fraction of it she must still be feeling it.
Kitty was so sure of it that her smile was genuine again the next time she saw Georgiana, when the family gathered for dinner. And Georgiana, who had even more stories to tell, seemed to smile back, didn’t she? Kitty’s spirits rose again and she was tingling all over when she looked at the blonde woman, so unlike her brother, who seemed to be the embodiment of everything that was beautiful in Heaven and on Earth.
She said in her letters that she wanted to kiss me!
But there were no kisses that night, no intimate tête-à-tête, just the same fatigue clouding Georgiana’s lovely features, and another promise of another walk the following day.
Kitty patiently contended herself with that, thinking that there is nothing like a new day and a new beginning, but she still couldn’t help comparing her lot to Lizzie’s as they all went to bed; Lizzie and her husband joined hands as they walked up the stairs, but Kitty and Georgiana did not touch and then they went their separate ways. She fought to keep her optimism but she could not deny that she was cold - and the warm embraces she had envisioned before seemed but phantoms made up by a delusional mind.
***
The next walk started out like the one before; polite small-talk and a ache in Kitty’s chest; an unvoiced need to speak of other things.
Why is it, she wondered, that I can use all sorts of endearments when I speak to my sisters, but to her whom I love more than my life, I barely dare to look at? And why doesn't she even smile at me? What am I doing wrong?
“I am happy to have you back here”, she blurted out at last, fixing her gaze on the woman by her side.
Georgiana averted her eyes.
“Well, I told you how I feel about that…”
No! Kitty cried inside of her. No, this is not what it was supposed to be like!
When she trusted her voice to carry her words without too much emotion, she asked: “Do you miss her?”
Georgiana looked puzzled, and Kitty had to explain that she spoke of Mary Crawley.
“What makes you say that?”
“It’s just,” Kitty said, “that you always spoke so fondly of her in your letters, and you don’t seem to be happy here with me.”
“Well. She is a fine lady and I value her friendship, but she has not been on my mind these past few days. I believe that I spoke more fondly to you in my letters.”
“Yes. That, you did.”
“Oh, Kitty…” Georgiana’s steps slowed down and she sighed. “This must be hard for you.”
The day was a little colder than the day before; the wind was sharper and chased the white clouds rapidly over the sky, but the shiver Kitty felt came from her heart.
“I don’t know. It seems to me like it is just as hard for you, or harder. I don’t understand…”
“Well, but I do!” Georgiana stopped and turned around sharply. Her eyes were big and Kitty could read both avoidance and a pain she didn’t understand in them. “You don’t have to say anything for me to feel the pressure of your expectations. I know that I am supposed to be happy…”
“But you are not.”
Georgiana shook her head, slowly.
“It’s not that I’m unhappy. I’m not - actually, I have a lot to look forward to. One day I’ll travel again because there is so much more for me to see and learn, but to start with, I shall write a book. I have enough material for it now. I just need to adjust to my old habits and get some peace and quiet.”
“I see.” Kitty nodded and forced that lump in her throat to go away, or at least to stay in her heart where it wouldn’t cause her as much visible embarrassment. “You have many plans, and it seems like I do not have a part in them.”
“You could have”, Georgiana said, and for a moment, Kitty’s heart stood still, “but what you have to understand is that I know now what it is that I want. But what you want from me... Do not think that I can’t understand the way you look at me…”
“I imagine”, Kitty replied slowly, “that I look at you like I love you. Because I do. And I thought… I had hoped…”
“Oh, Kitty!” Georgiana reached her hand out and squeezed Kitty’s; a brief, burning touch. “I am sorry, but you know, one writes so much in letters - it is easy to say some things that perhaps one ought not to have said, things that, face to face, would have remained unsaid.”
“I see”, Kitty said again. “So it was foolish of me to take every word so seriously…”
“That is not what I am saying, but…”
Georgiana was clearly uncomfortable, looking everywhere but in Kitty’s eyes, and she was shivering in her thin clothes because the sky was rapidly darkening and the wind threatened to bring rain.
Still, Kitty was not ready to stop talking yet and let them both go.
“Was there a man, somewhere, a historian or a writer or… Was there someone…”
“No. I have no interest in men. At least not in the way you are implying.”
“Then is there another woman?”
“Of course not.” Georgiana was getting annoyed, Kitty could sense that. “Kitty, if I had any interest in getting married or settling down with a companion I could just as well have stayed in England. And you should know that.”
Kitty nodded, as if she understood, as if everything made perfect sense, but there was a cloud of darkness spreading inside of her.
“I do have feelings for you, of course…”
Kitty tried to process the information. The idea that it was not about her - Georgiana just didn’t want romance. Then why had her letters sounded like they came from a woman who wanted a hand to hold and a warm embrace to come home to?
“You have feelings for me”, Kitty concluded, “like you would have for a sister. If I were to kiss you…”
She moved a little closer, and the look of Georgiana’s face turned from sadness and discomfort to something more like horror and disgust. Kitty stepped back immediately.
“Please don’t think”, she said, “that I would ever, against you will…”
She almost choked on her words and had to turn away. She looked around her; was the world truly getting that dark, or was it her own mood that distorted her vision of reality?
“It’s going to rain soon”, Georgiana said. “Let’s go back home.”
It wasn’t just her mood, then. Kitty started walking, silently, and Georgiana followed.
When they were almost back and the first drops began to fall and there was a loud rustle in the leaves above their heads, Georgiana said:
“Please, Kitty, don’t be upset. We’re friends!”
She reached out her hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Kitty took it.
Georgiana smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek, and her touch made Kitty ache for more, but it was only a gesture of sisterly affection and there was no fire, no desire, no passion in Georgiana’s eyes.
Kitty understood that that was something she was never going to see.
***
Very soon, Georgiana began working on her book, and the family didn’t see much of her. There were no more long walks or talks together, no moments alone - Kitty still longed for it, she hoped that there was something more to say… but it seemed like there was not. Georgiana was gentle and polite, but distant.
Kitty found it hard to endure. She was getting pale and lethargic and quieter than ever before. Lizzie, who worried about her, did not protest when she wanted to go home. Fitz readily lent her a carriage and a servant for company, and so it was time to say good bye to Georgiana, so soon after welcoming her back home.
“Come back soon, dear Kitty”, was Georgiana’s parting words, but Kitty knew that things were never going to be the same between them again.
She also thought that she was never going to be happy again.
She didn’t much care.
***
One night when her mother had gone to bed, her father called her in to his study.
“I haven’t seen you smile even once since you came back home”, he said bluntly. “What is the matter, my child? Did Georgiana’s return turn out to be not what you had hoped for?”
“Oh, Papa…”
She sank down in a chair opposite his desk with an exasperated sigh. There was no way he could understand how right he was. But he gave her that wise scrutinizing look, completely without judgment or mockery, that he saved for rare occasions.
“Don’t be afraid to talk to me”, he said. “I was young once too, you know, although that may seem hard to believe.”
She smiled a little, not because she wanted to but because he was kind and deserved it.
“Georgiana”, she began after a while when he just kept looking at her, “is a good friend. She treats me like a sister. But… she doesn’t truly need me in her life.”
“And you”, said her Papa, “already have many sisters.”
Kitty inhaled the familiar scent of tobacco and old books, the scent of safety and warmth. In there, her father seemed to make all problems disappear, although he likely just pushed them out of his mind, trying to forget about them. What about heartache, what could he do about that?
“I thought for a while that she wanted something more. But she doesn’t, and… that makes me very sad. I know that one can’t expect a friend to… And I suppose it is wrong of me to feel this way…”
Kitty looked up at her father, expecting him to be either shocked or oblivious to the true meaning of her words, but he seemed to be neither.
“Maybe a common fool or a clergyman would agree to that - and they are often one and the same - but a man who has studied Plato and taken him seriously would not.”
“Oh, Papa!” Kitty shook her head. Her father was hopeless after all. “What can Plato possibly have to say about life here and now?”
“More than you think, dear. More than you think.”
He was quiet for a while and took his time to thoroughly fill and light his pipe.
“When I was young”, he began slowly, “I had a very good friend. We shared everything and I loved him dearly. We were young and happy. Very happy. But he… was swayed to believe our love was sinful, and he would have nothing more to do with me. He joined the church and went to live in a monastery. And I… I eventually married your mother. And my books…”
Kitty didn’t say anything. She simply stared at him, feeling the room swing and swirl as her view of the world changed.
“Kitty, my dear, I have never seen you happier than during your correspondence with Georgiana and it breaks my heart to pieces to see how unhappy you are now. And I am sorry to say that that is how it often turns out in life, maybe especially for those who love a member of their own sex, for that is frowned upon in our society.”
Kitty had figured that much out, but at least it was a slight comfort to know that her feelings for Georgiana were not completely unthinkable after all.
But that did not change the fact that Georgiana did not want her. What did that mean? Would she have to settle for somebody out of convenience?
“Lizzie once said: ‘Nothing but the very deepest love will induce me into matrimony’… and she married for love. Even Mary married for love.”
“Even Mary”, her father agreed. “And don’t think that I would ever want to see you marry a man you don’t love. As long as I am alive, you have a home here. And your sisters love you dearly. They will take care of you when your mother and I are gone.”
“Lizzie won’t.” Kitty suddenly felt hot, determined. “That is, I’ll never live at Pemberley. I don’t ever want to go there again!”
“Hush, my child!” Mr Bennet leaned forward as if to take her hand, but the wide desk was in the way. “Don’t be upset. Do not worry about the future. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
“Oh Papa, what can I do?”
“Cry, my child. It will not make the pain go away but it will make it easier to endure. And try not to be bitter. Try to be glad that you have been given a heart with the ability to love.”
Kitty did not understand how her father could say such a thing. She would much rather be like Georgiana who had a heart that did not need anything more than sisterly affection. She was perfectly happy being Auntie Georgie, the traveller and writer.
“Your friend”, she said, “what was his name? Did he love you back once, at least?”
Her father smiled and sighed.
“His name was Alexander. And yes, he did. I haven’t seen or written to him in forty years, but I’d like to think that somewhere deep down in his heart he still does.”
Kitty wondered what her father had been like when he was young. She tried to imagine him as a young man, sitting in a small and draughty, poorly lit university chamber together with another young man, their heads close together as they were completely immersed in the writings on old parchments, scribbling notes on paper, sometimes looking up when their hands brushed together, drowning in each other’s eyes…
“Lizzie and Fitz kiss each other all the time”, she mumbled. “Georgiana didn’t even want to kiss me once…”
She blushed, realising she had spoken aloud. Her father did not reply.
When she looked at him again, she saw that his eyes were shiny as if filled with tears.
Kitty had never even once seen her father cry. She had never even thought about the possibility of him crying. But now she wondered if it happened that he still cried over his lost love sometimes, when he was alone with his books and his memories.
She rose from the chair and he instantly reached his arms out; she fell into them and wept on his shoulder.
“Life is not fair to everyone”, Mr Bennet said. “That’s just the way it is, my child.”
Fandom: Pride and Prejudice
Rating/Genre: g/femslash, angst, mentions of slash and het
Characters/Pairing: Kitty Bennet, Georgiana Darcy, Mr and Mrs Bennet, Lady Lucas, mentions almost everyone else, a few original characters; Kitty/Georgiana, Mr Bennet/omc, Mary Bennet/omc, all canon het pairings.
Summary: Kitty and Georgiana became friends when Elizabeth Bennet married Fitzwilliam Darcy. Seven years later, Georgiana finds out what she wants to do with her life, and Kitty finds herself facing new thoughts…
Word count: 7 770
Spoilers/Warnings: No, if you read the book/saw the movie you know who married whom (and if you didn’t you probably wouldn’t read this anyway…)/No.
Prompt: 046. Write, 100_women.
Notes: The Mary Crawley mentioned in this fic is not The Mary Crawley of the TV series Downton Abbey, that would be terribly anachronistic, but her grandmother’s great aunt. I just thought it amusing to sort of take one original character from another fandom. (This fic has nothing to do with Downton Abbey aside from that reference, so not a real crossover!)
”Now tell me, have you had any news from Mary? I trust both she and the infant are well, with a doctor for husband and father!”
Lady Lucas laughed heartily. Kitty forced a smile and hoped it looked somewhat genuine.
“Yes, thank you for asking. They are both quite well. Mary writes that little Rosamond can almost sit up by herself now.”
“That is wonderful!” Lady Lucas clasped her hands together as if she thanked Heaven for the news. “Do promise to tell me next time they come to visit Longbourn.”
Kitty promised. She was seated ever so calmly and elegantly on the sofa opposite of Lady Lucas. The sofas were new, she had been informed; a gift from Collins, handpicked by the old witch herself - that last part was Kitty’s own wording, not spoken aloud in front of Lady Lucas. Unlike the older woman, Kitty did not feel thankful; she mostly felt like asking the Heaven for mercy, wishing the visit to be over already.
But Lady Lucas proceeded to ask about Jane’s children, and about Elizabeth’s, and then it was Kitty’s turn to ask about Charlotte, her two sons and her husband (Kitty had, surprisingly enough, learned to quite like Charlotte - the older woman had always been more Lizzy’s friend, but she was one of the few people Kitty knew who had changed very little after her marriage, which was refreshing and comforting), and after that they chatted some more about mutual acquaintances, and finally, finally, could she leave without hurting the woman’s feelings.
Kitty left Lucas Lodge with a new cake recipe and a small jar of strawberry jam, with compliments to Mrs Bennet who had been confined to bed for four days already. Her condition was not serious, but enough keep her from seeing people and thus driving Kitty mad. Kitty had gone to Lady Lucas in desperate search for news and gossip that could make her mother feel better.
Why, why, she wondered, did old women talk so much? Even about Mary! People had never cared much for Mary, but now that she was married and lived far away from Meryton she was suddenly the talk of the town, or at least one of the things people liked to talk about.
In a way she could understand it. Charlotte, Lizzie and Jane’s marriages were old news, Lydia appeared to be more or less forgotten, the younger Lucases were not yet married (except Maria, who had died in childbirth), but Mary had only been married for less than two years. And she was the girl nobody thought would get married at all.
Kitty was happy for her older sister, it was not that, and it wasn’t that she missed her exactly. It was just so strange to her, still, to be the only Miss Bennet left.
***
It had happened one summer at Pemberley. Kitty and Mary both enjoyed spending time there. They liked to play with their young nieces and nephews - Lizzie and Fitz had two of each sex - and Kitty truly enjoyed the company of Georgiana. The young Miss Darcy had taken Kitty to her heart almost immediately when they first met, and their friendship only deepened over the years.
As she got older, Georgiana grew less shy, but more accomplished and also more bookish. She still drew and played the pianoforte but she preferred to sit in the library and study books about history, geography and art.
That summer, almost seven years after the first Darcy/Bennet wedding, a distant cousin of Fitzwilliam and Georgiana had visited. Doctor Thomas Darcy was a good man, intelligent, not very young and not too handsome - nice, and not at all the kind of man Kitty used to fancy. But there was something about him and his pleasant manners, his politeness and constant attention to the ladies that made Kitty’s heart ache.
Her heart ached because she believed she was going to lose Georgiana, who was already drifting away from her, keeping her distance in a way she never had before, because the two of them had been friends for years. Kitty thought the reason must be that Georgiana was in love. And Georgiana was the most beautiful and desirable woman of them all, so of course the man was going to propose to her before the summer was over.
Then it turned out that the doctor preferred Mary Bennet over any other lady, and she returned his affection, and everything was settled in the blink of an eye, or almost.
It was such a relief and no summer sunset had ever looked more beautiful to her than the evening she wasn’t going to lose Georgiana after all, because it was Mary who was glowing with happiness.
Kitty tried not to be too cheerful when she went to comfort her friend. Georgiana, however, seemed to have gotten the wrong impression - that Kitty was sad to see Mary get married, perhaps because she felt a romantic attachment to the doctor.
“Oh, dearest Kitty!” Georgiana exclaimed. “Talk to me, please. Let me share your pain, although I know that cannot ease it.”
“That’s funny”, Kitty said, “I was going to say the same thing to you, Georgiana. I don’t understand you. I thought it was you who needed comforting - to lose another sister to the world of married women does not cause me any pain, but you - you have lost the hope… the hope of…”
“The hope of what?”
Kitty didn’t understand. Georgiana clearly had had something on her mind for a long time, so why didn’t she admit it? Doesn’t she trust me? she wondered.
“Well”, she said, “I thought that perhaps you… love him…”
Georgiana laughed, beautifully as only she knew how, and denied it so ardently that Kitty had to believe her.
The fact that Georgiana Darcy had remained unmarried seemed a mystery to most people. Caroline still sometimes insinuated that it had something to do with her brother Charles, but that was not true. Georgiana had never had any feelings for him, or for any man, she told Kitty. Well, there had been Wickham, but she had been young and foolish.
Kitty understood her. She had thought once that she was in love with that young officer from long ago, Denny, but it had been a most childish thing and she had not known what love was.
She still didn’t, she knew as much. She wanted to know, naturally, but when she was with her friend, she usually didn’t think about it.
“What about you, Kitty? Are you not in love?”
“No”, said Kitty, and both of them laughed again.
They sat on Georgiana’s bed and Georgiana played with a lock of Kitty’s hair, and life was perfect. Until Georgiana told her. Told her the reason why she had been so preoccupied all summer, why her correspondence with one of her aunts had seemed to be so important to her.
Because it was important. Georgiana told Kitty that she and her aunt had been planning a long trip - to France, Greece and Italy - but she had felt it was best not to tell anyone until all necessary preparations were made.
“You know”, she explained, “how my brother still thinks I’m a child even now when I am twenty-four, and he would probably try to stop me if he could. But Kitty, he can’t! I am determined to make this happen!”
Georgiana’s eyes sparkled with excitement. She sometimes looked like that when she had studied, too, but this time, her cheeks were burning more intensely than ever before.
Judging by the way her friend looked at her, Kitty realised that she should cheer and be happy, but her voice was dull and small when she said:
“I imagine such a trip would take you away from Pemberley for quite some time…”
“Of course”, Georgiana replied, “and I think you understand how much I am looking forward to it. We’ll be gone for at least two years.”
“Two years!” Kitty couldn’t hide her shock. “But what on Earth shall you be doing for such a long time?”
“Oh, Kitty!” Georgiana took her hand and squeezed it tight. “But of course I need time. We are not going to stay for long in Paris, we are going to Rome and Athens and so many other exciting places. To see the ancient art, Kitty, the buildings, the sculptures, to walk the streets where Ovid and Virgil once walked, to feel the wings of history!”
“But why? I thought… with all the books in Pemberley’s library… aren’t you happy here?”
“It’s not at all the same. There are some things you cannot learn from books.”
Kitty pulled her hand away and turned her head to the wall, as if she was studying the picture that was hanging there. Tears were building up from somewhere deep inside where she hadn’t even known tears could lie in ambush so treacherously. So Georgiana was leaving after all.
They were quiet. Georgiana’s enthusiasm seemed to fade, and Kitty felt guilty and ashamed of her reaction, but there was nothing she could do to feign a joy she did not feel.
“Oh!” Georgiana gasped and reached for Kitty again, tugged at her arm and made her look at her. “Do not think that I leave you without regrets. Kitty, what if I don’t have to leave you? You can go with us!”
The prospect of travelling with Georgiana and Miss Darcy - a lady who had never married but who had her independence and was free to do whatever she wanted - made her spirits rise.
Their plan did not, however, become reality so easily.
Fitzwilliam Darcy was a man who was more than a little protective of his sister, and talking him into letting her go with her aunt proved to be difficult. But it was not impossible; he loved her more than he wanted to see her unhappy, and when it became clear to him that the cultural excursion really was important to Georgiana, he gave in. He trusted their aunt to take good care of her, and another lady they were acquainted with already lived in Rome since many years. Her name was Mary Crawley, she was the eldest daughter of Lord Grantham of Downton Abbey, and when he spoke in favour of the idea (and Lizzie did as well), Fitz said nothing more.
But if Mr Darcy was a hard nut to crack, Mrs Bennet turned out to be worse. Kitty’s father could possibly had been persuaded if she had been wise enough to talk to him first and let him break the news to his wife. But Kitty’s mother simply wouldn’t hear of it. It didn’t matter that Kitty tried to argue her age - twenty-five, and what was there for her to do at home anyway? - and the fact that Greece and Rome hardly was the moon or anything insane like that. Even letters from Lizzie, Fitz and Miss Darcy had no effect on her.
No one had heard her cry that much since Lydia’s elopement came out. When she had begged for compassion for her poor nerves fifty times or more, Kitty couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’ll stay here, Mama”, she sighed. “Don’t cry. Don’t worry, I won’t go.”
“Oh Kitty”, her mother sobbed, “I could lose you to a man if I had to, but to see you leave this house for foreign countries and God knows what dreadful dangers…”
“Yes, Mama.” Kitty hugged her tight. “Don’t cry anymore.”
It was Kitty who cried, in her room, at night.
***
That had been two years ago. Georgiana sent letters - they were wonderful and full of affection, although Kitty sometimes thought that she spoke a little too fondly of Lady Mary - and Kitty wrote back to her, of course. It was ironic, she thought, that she had so much time to write but so little to write about.
Meryton was hardly an interesting place. Same old people, same old gossip. Aunt Gardiner often said she would like to travel with Kitty like she had done with Lizzie before; she was under the impression that their brief visit to Pemberley had something to do with the match finally being made, and who knows if Kitty couldn’t be as fortunate if she only had an opportunity to get away from home, but Mr Gardiner had passed away and that made her less inclined to leave her own home or even to chaperone a niece in her home in London.
There were few places for Kitty to go. She was always welcome to stay with any of her sisters, of course, but she and Mary had never been close friends. Besides, there was something smug about Mary since she got married, or was it only imagination?
She could always go to Netherfield, of course, but it was too close to home - and actually, against all rhyme and reason - too much like home to be much of a change. (Kitty loved Jane dearly and would never tell her this.) She also had an open invitation to Pemberley, but the place had lost some of its appeal without Georgiana there, and although she was fond of her sister and brother-in-law, there was something about them that was getting on her nerves.
“Lizzie and her husband”, Mrs Bennet liked to say, “are so happy together; seeing them, one would think they got married last week!”
She was right. When other husbands called their wives “dearest” and patted their hands at most, when in public, Fitz openly called Lizzie “beloved” and put his arms around her waist. And she, she was not ashamed to kiss him even when they had company.
Bingley and Jane at least had the modesty to keep their hands to themselves and just look at each other. “Like two crazy lovebirds”, Mary once commented; she was of the old school herself, for which Kitty was grateful.
I am happy for my sisters, she sometimes reminded herself, their happiness makes me happy and it’s a blessing for our parents, and I love all their children!
Of course she was happy for them. And no children had ever had a more devoted aunt. She was quite happy, truly, she was!
And yet there were times when she would gladly trade all of them for one loving word from someone who only had eyes for her, someone who could give her just one sweet kiss.
Am I a bad person? she asked herself, Am I selfish to feel that I want more, when I have so much; a home, a comfortable life, a loving family?
Sometimes, she just wanted to get as far away from her loving family as possible. Other girls married and left their parent’s house, but she just stayed there year after year, doing the same old things, the eternal girl, and her mother’s friends never teased her about young men or asked anything about her life anymore. It was as if they expected that she was going to stay there forever, by her mother’s side.
She never said these things out loud, and she tried to avoid them when writing to Georgiana. To have someone to write to was at least a great comfort. Sometimes it took time for Georgiana's letters to find their way across the countries, but she got them eventually. She felt as if she knew Georgiana’s handwriting better than her own - it certainly was better looking - and as the years passed, she awaited Georgiana’s return impatiently.
One rainy day in March, when the travelling Darcys had been gone for two years, she got a letter saying that they were staying away one more year.
But next summer, Georgiana wrote, we shall be together at dear old Pemberley again! That I promise you. I must confess that I miss it, a little, at times. On the other hand, here, they have houses where one can stumble across dust-covered ancient fragments of poetry in Greek!
To Kitty, the writings one could find in the library at Pemberley were ancient enough, but she knew that it would be unwise to voice such opinions.
Enclosed with the letter was a small drawing of a statue that Georgiana said was Hermes, and Kitty appreciated it with genuine awe and admiration.
Georgiana could draw excellently - a skill Kitty had never learned - and she liked to send Kitty something sometimes that showed her surroundings, a person, or some detail or another that were of particular interest. Once she wrote:
Dearest Kitty, I send you this small sketch to show you that I am always thinking of you. You see, I walk past this statue every morning, and she reminds me of you. Except that unlike hers, your eyes are full of life, and her eternal soft smile will never become a full laugh. So the inevitable conclusion is that you, my friend, is a hundred times better, but you are not here, so I’ll have to find comfort in this ancient image of you.
The drawing was very good - as if anything by that hand could be less than that - but Kitty had to admit that she didn’t quite see the resemblance.
She asked her parents for advice.
“Nonsense”, Mrs Bennet said. “Why are young girls so sentimental?”
“I think”, Mr Bennet said with a small smile, “that perhaps Georgiana looks at things with her heart rather than with her eyes.”
“You, Mr Bennet”, said Mrs Bennet, “are getting sillier and sillier with every grandchild we get.”
“If you say so, my dear”, replied the old gentleman, and his wife had a lot to say on the matter.
Mrs Bennet was getting worked up and ready for bickering, so Kitty excused herself. She was going to reply to the letter. Not that she had many things to write about, but she could at least thank Georgiana for the ‘portrait’.
My Dear! began another letter. I am writing this in the light of a candle in my room. It is very late but I cannot sleep. Mary Crawley and I have taken a midnight walk, not in the ruins - that would be unwise, even if the moon shines brightly enough for us to see quite well - but on the hill above them. Oh, if you only could see this view! I don’t have words enough… I wish I could take you by the hand and show you everything, and kiss you - for one cannot walk in the moonlight with Kitty Bennet without wanting to kiss her - and we would be so happy here.
Kitty blushed and her hands trembled. The mention of Mary Crawley bothered her, but Georgiana hadn’t said she wanted to kiss her, and she had never expressed her affection so frankly before.
She wondered then what it would be like to be with Georgiana above those ruins she so loved, what it would be like if Georgiana looked at her like Fitz looked at Lizzie, and if she hadn’t already been sitting she would have fainted when a big wave of emotion hit her as the thoughts took shape. Her chest was heaving as if she didn’t get enough air and her cheeks were burning.
She took the letter in her hands, brought it to her lips and kissed it where the sender had written her signature. Her lips were tingling, she was tingling all over, and suddenly she knew that she wanted to kiss Georgiana Darcy. Not kiss her like a sister, but like a lover.
I love her, she realised. This is love.
Kitty replied to the letter with her heart in the tip of her pen, or so it felt. Even if the ink wasn’t red like her blood, it could very well have been. She talked of all her love and longing, and she even mentioned her silly impulse to kiss the letter.
She giggled to herself, unbelievably giddy and light-hearted, and she felt a glowing sense of pride on top of it all - the way a man feels, she supposed, when he has proposed to a woman and been accepted. Or something close to it, at least.
Georgiana’s next letter began with descriptions of Etruscan murals, and a short but well-written and witty exposition of a passage from Virgil, and then she wrote:
I must confess that your letter - I received it last week - made me quite flustered - I don't know what I wrote in my last letter, must have written something very silly indeed for you to respond with such words! I have never known you so emotional before… but yes! I kiss your letters, too, my Kitty. And I wish you were here, and I miss you! Many kisses, your Georgiana who loves you.
And so commenced the happiest months in the life of Kitty Bennet so far.
***
Dear Kitty, I cannot write you a long letter because we are leaving for Genoa this afternoon, where and acquaintance of Mary has a villa where we’ll be staying. These last few weeks have been very intense when it comes to the excavations. I am tired, but I shall rest when we reach our destination.
Then there was a post scriptum longer than the first part of the letter:
Do not tell my brother about this, but we might get to meet Lord Byron in Genoa! I must confess that I quite like the prospect of that. Also, you know I don’t gossip, but since this is about your flesh and blood, dearest Kitty: rumour has it that the companion of his mistress is a certain Mrs Wickham, née Bennet. Luckily, Wickham is not in the country, it seems. I would not like to meet him, although I do not mind getting acquainted with your sister. I wonder if she is going to know who I am. Isn’t that a fine joke! (Like you would have said back in the days when you were still making jokes and laughing about all things. You have been so serious these last couple of years, but I have to say your last letters have been more lively. I am very glad about that. Has life so far been a disappointment to you, Kitty? I do so wish you could have been here.)
Was Kitty’s life a disappointment? She thought about it, and of course, in a way, it was. Her life was dull and uneventful. But she did have a large and growing family who loved her, something she never forgot when she counted her blessings. Still, she found less and less things to laugh and joke about, at least not in the way she had done before. Georgiana was referring to the time when she had had nothing but balls and officers on her mind, but that seemed an eternity ago. Her mother sometimes complained that she was ‘turning into Mary’ - but her father said that Kitty was perhaps just turning into herself.
What had changed her? Losing Lydia, adapting to Georgiana, becoming aware of aching needs that earlier only had been like faint whispers…
Her father once said that he wished he could do more for her - that she had gone from living in Lydia’s shadow to living in Georgiana’s. And maybe he was right, but it didn’t matter - not anymore, not now that she was truly loved.
She was not unhappy and she was far from disappointed: she knew that Georgiana must be coming home soon. And one day she got the letter that confirmed it:
My darling, thank you for the letter you sent me. I write hastily to tell you this: My aunt’s health is beginning to worry us all, and she has now decided to return to England very soon. I am not happy to leave the places and the people I have gotten to know, but I am happy that I am going to see you again soon. Please promise to be at Pemberley when we return, in the beginning of May!
It was still April, and Kitty waited almost feverishly for May. She didn’t think any human being had ever been happier than she was. The spring was wonderful, the colours of the flowers brighter than ever before, and the familiar surroundings looked like something from a fairytale.
Mrs Bennet grunted and found it more than a little vexing that Kitty had to go to Pemberley during the most difficult time of the year - Kitty had no idea why it was so difficult - but nothing could stop her from going in the end of April.
Kitty tried to act normal but she was too full of emotions to eat or sleep properly while she waited for Georgiana to return.
When the two travelling ladies finally arrived, the older Miss Darcy was brought to bed almost immediately, and Georgiana saw to it that she was resting comfortably before she returned to her waiting family. She looked a little worn after the long journey, but as beautiful as ever, or more.
Kitty barely spoke at all. She forced herself to step back, for the sake of Fitz who had missed his sister more than he was willing to admit. The children were shy; they looked at the young lady with awe because they had heard about her from her letters and the others’ stories, but only Will, the oldest, had any real memories of her. Georgiana was, however, so sweet and easy to love that they soon were completely at ease around her.
Kitty hoped that her friend - her ‘fiancée’ as she secretly thought when she was alone somewhere where no one could see her blush - would want to talk to her alone before the evening was over, but that did not happen. Georgiana was tired.
“We’ll take a long walk and talk tomorrow”, she promised, and hurried off to bed very soon after the children had been sent to their rooms for the night.
There was an odd expression on her face as she left that Kitty could have described as ‘nervous’, but she told herself that it couldn’t be, it was only fatigue.
Georgiana did not come down from her room until it was almost noon the next day, but she still looked tired. Kitty, who had slept very little during the night, had been playing absentmindedly with the children for a couple of hours already. She was yawning but smiled widely as Georgiana entered the room, wearing a simple but modern blue dress, probably acquired abroad.
Kitty was wide awake all of a sudden, if a bit weak to her knees, and her heart was fluttering.
“Good morning”, she said, and her friend replied politely and kindly but occupied herself immediately with the children, and later with her brother and sister-in-law, and said very little to Kitty.
There was so much to tell anyway, about Rome and Athens and about people and the journey home. Kitty told herself that she mustn’t be selfish; she was not the only one who had waited a long time for Georgiana to return.
But it was strange. As if the three years of writing letters that had deepened their friendship just didn’t exist anymore, and nor did the years of friendship before the letters. Why did Georgiana look at her, if she looked at all, as if she were a complete stranger?
Georgiana excused herself early in the evening to go and sit with her sick aunt. That was a valid excuse of course, and Kitty told herself again not to be so childish. How could she feel as if she had offended her friend, when they had hardly spoken at all?
Not until the third day did they take their promised walk. It was a fine day for walking, dry and sunny but not too hot.
“Look around you”, Kitty said, “the nature smiles upon your return.”
Georgiana looked and smiled, but with a little sigh.
“Perhaps our English trees and flowers look dull to you now”, Kitty offered, “now that you have seen the world.”
“Oh no”, the other girl replied, “it’s not like I have ‘seen the world’ yet, Kitty. Just a small part of Europe.”
Kitty, who had only seen a very small part of England and had little hope of ever seeing anything more, found nothing to say. They walked in silence for a while, until Kitty forced her thoughts away from flowers and birds - she wanted to talk about how pretty everything looked, but it didn't feel like Georgiana was interested. Kitty tried to ask Georgiana about her new dresses, hats and shoes, and for a moment she felt like her old self as she did so. She thought about Lydia and her love of ribbons and hats. But Georgiana’s answers to the questions were short and uninspired.
“Did you ever meet Lord Byron in Genoa?” Kitty asked.
“No”, Georgiana said and there was finally a spark of life, something genuine in her voice. “It would have been interesting, I’m sure, but we did not get the opportunity. He had already left for other adventures when we got there.”
Does she regret it? Kitty wondered. Regret that she didn’t stay long enough to meet him? The infamous and wonderful poet, would he have made her heart swell with admiration, would she have smiled at him, perhaps played the pianoforte at his house?
“What about other people?” she asked. “Did you meet anyone interesting?”
“I met a lot of people all the time, Kitty. Scholars and artists and adventurers. But people were not my priority.”
“Of course not”, Kitty mumbled, and added: “How do you feel about being back here?”
Georgiana hesitated, “I don’t know… I can’t say…”
“This is your home. Your family…”
“I know.” Georgiana stopped and turned around, and Kitty followed. The house was far behind them, splendid and grand - to Kitty it was like a second home, and now she tried to see it with her friend’s eyes. But she did not know what Georgiana’s eyes really saw when they rested upon it.
“It feels strange”, Georgiana said after a few more moments’ consideration. “I know that this is home, but… it happened so quickly.”
“Quickly?” Kitty did not understand. “Didn’t the journey back take you a very long time, with your aunt ill and unable to move quickly?”
“Of course. That’s not what I meant. It just feels strange to be back, that’s all.”
They walked in silence some more, and Kitty felt a lump in her throat. Would Georgiana feel a little bit better if Kitty took her hand? But Kitty was right by her side; her hand was free to take if Georgiana wanted it.
Kitty had walked the same grounds alone, alone but for a letter from abroad, and she had walked around Meryton even more, she had walked from Longbourn to Netherfield and back, but she had never felt lonely, not as long as she had imagined Georgiana walking with her, laughing sweetly, with her arm around Kitty’s waist.
How can it be that I feel this distance between us now?
Kitty had wanted to talk about love, about hope and joy, about their happiness, but she said nothing more.
When they were back at the house they parted with a small smile and a promise to talk more soon. Kitty could not get away from Georgiana soon enough. It was a strange feeling to say the least. But she feared that she might cry and indeed; as soon as she was alone in her room, she did.
It is only natural, she said to herself, that she seems different, because she is still tired. She’s going to get used to being here soon enough; the love from everyone around her will help. Fitz and Lizzie, the little ones, and I… I love her more than anyone!
She said in her letters that she loved me. She does love me.
As if Kitty’s whole life depended on it, she clung to the thought, to the hope, to the knowledge of what was burning inside her heart. If Georgiana had ever felt even a fraction of it she must still be feeling it.
Kitty was so sure of it that her smile was genuine again the next time she saw Georgiana, when the family gathered for dinner. And Georgiana, who had even more stories to tell, seemed to smile back, didn’t she? Kitty’s spirits rose again and she was tingling all over when she looked at the blonde woman, so unlike her brother, who seemed to be the embodiment of everything that was beautiful in Heaven and on Earth.
She said in her letters that she wanted to kiss me!
But there were no kisses that night, no intimate tête-à-tête, just the same fatigue clouding Georgiana’s lovely features, and another promise of another walk the following day.
Kitty patiently contended herself with that, thinking that there is nothing like a new day and a new beginning, but she still couldn’t help comparing her lot to Lizzie’s as they all went to bed; Lizzie and her husband joined hands as they walked up the stairs, but Kitty and Georgiana did not touch and then they went their separate ways. She fought to keep her optimism but she could not deny that she was cold - and the warm embraces she had envisioned before seemed but phantoms made up by a delusional mind.
***
The next walk started out like the one before; polite small-talk and a ache in Kitty’s chest; an unvoiced need to speak of other things.
Why is it, she wondered, that I can use all sorts of endearments when I speak to my sisters, but to her whom I love more than my life, I barely dare to look at? And why doesn't she even smile at me? What am I doing wrong?
“I am happy to have you back here”, she blurted out at last, fixing her gaze on the woman by her side.
Georgiana averted her eyes.
“Well, I told you how I feel about that…”
No! Kitty cried inside of her. No, this is not what it was supposed to be like!
When she trusted her voice to carry her words without too much emotion, she asked: “Do you miss her?”
Georgiana looked puzzled, and Kitty had to explain that she spoke of Mary Crawley.
“What makes you say that?”
“It’s just,” Kitty said, “that you always spoke so fondly of her in your letters, and you don’t seem to be happy here with me.”
“Well. She is a fine lady and I value her friendship, but she has not been on my mind these past few days. I believe that I spoke more fondly to you in my letters.”
“Yes. That, you did.”
“Oh, Kitty…” Georgiana’s steps slowed down and she sighed. “This must be hard for you.”
The day was a little colder than the day before; the wind was sharper and chased the white clouds rapidly over the sky, but the shiver Kitty felt came from her heart.
“I don’t know. It seems to me like it is just as hard for you, or harder. I don’t understand…”
“Well, but I do!” Georgiana stopped and turned around sharply. Her eyes were big and Kitty could read both avoidance and a pain she didn’t understand in them. “You don’t have to say anything for me to feel the pressure of your expectations. I know that I am supposed to be happy…”
“But you are not.”
Georgiana shook her head, slowly.
“It’s not that I’m unhappy. I’m not - actually, I have a lot to look forward to. One day I’ll travel again because there is so much more for me to see and learn, but to start with, I shall write a book. I have enough material for it now. I just need to adjust to my old habits and get some peace and quiet.”
“I see.” Kitty nodded and forced that lump in her throat to go away, or at least to stay in her heart where it wouldn’t cause her as much visible embarrassment. “You have many plans, and it seems like I do not have a part in them.”
“You could have”, Georgiana said, and for a moment, Kitty’s heart stood still, “but what you have to understand is that I know now what it is that I want. But what you want from me... Do not think that I can’t understand the way you look at me…”
“I imagine”, Kitty replied slowly, “that I look at you like I love you. Because I do. And I thought… I had hoped…”
“Oh, Kitty!” Georgiana reached her hand out and squeezed Kitty’s; a brief, burning touch. “I am sorry, but you know, one writes so much in letters - it is easy to say some things that perhaps one ought not to have said, things that, face to face, would have remained unsaid.”
“I see”, Kitty said again. “So it was foolish of me to take every word so seriously…”
“That is not what I am saying, but…”
Georgiana was clearly uncomfortable, looking everywhere but in Kitty’s eyes, and she was shivering in her thin clothes because the sky was rapidly darkening and the wind threatened to bring rain.
Still, Kitty was not ready to stop talking yet and let them both go.
“Was there a man, somewhere, a historian or a writer or… Was there someone…”
“No. I have no interest in men. At least not in the way you are implying.”
“Then is there another woman?”
“Of course not.” Georgiana was getting annoyed, Kitty could sense that. “Kitty, if I had any interest in getting married or settling down with a companion I could just as well have stayed in England. And you should know that.”
Kitty nodded, as if she understood, as if everything made perfect sense, but there was a cloud of darkness spreading inside of her.
“I do have feelings for you, of course…”
Kitty tried to process the information. The idea that it was not about her - Georgiana just didn’t want romance. Then why had her letters sounded like they came from a woman who wanted a hand to hold and a warm embrace to come home to?
“You have feelings for me”, Kitty concluded, “like you would have for a sister. If I were to kiss you…”
She moved a little closer, and the look of Georgiana’s face turned from sadness and discomfort to something more like horror and disgust. Kitty stepped back immediately.
“Please don’t think”, she said, “that I would ever, against you will…”
She almost choked on her words and had to turn away. She looked around her; was the world truly getting that dark, or was it her own mood that distorted her vision of reality?
“It’s going to rain soon”, Georgiana said. “Let’s go back home.”
It wasn’t just her mood, then. Kitty started walking, silently, and Georgiana followed.
When they were almost back and the first drops began to fall and there was a loud rustle in the leaves above their heads, Georgiana said:
“Please, Kitty, don’t be upset. We’re friends!”
She reached out her hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Kitty took it.
Georgiana smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek, and her touch made Kitty ache for more, but it was only a gesture of sisterly affection and there was no fire, no desire, no passion in Georgiana’s eyes.
Kitty understood that that was something she was never going to see.
***
Very soon, Georgiana began working on her book, and the family didn’t see much of her. There were no more long walks or talks together, no moments alone - Kitty still longed for it, she hoped that there was something more to say… but it seemed like there was not. Georgiana was gentle and polite, but distant.
Kitty found it hard to endure. She was getting pale and lethargic and quieter than ever before. Lizzie, who worried about her, did not protest when she wanted to go home. Fitz readily lent her a carriage and a servant for company, and so it was time to say good bye to Georgiana, so soon after welcoming her back home.
“Come back soon, dear Kitty”, was Georgiana’s parting words, but Kitty knew that things were never going to be the same between them again.
She also thought that she was never going to be happy again.
She didn’t much care.
***
One night when her mother had gone to bed, her father called her in to his study.
“I haven’t seen you smile even once since you came back home”, he said bluntly. “What is the matter, my child? Did Georgiana’s return turn out to be not what you had hoped for?”
“Oh, Papa…”
She sank down in a chair opposite his desk with an exasperated sigh. There was no way he could understand how right he was. But he gave her that wise scrutinizing look, completely without judgment or mockery, that he saved for rare occasions.
“Don’t be afraid to talk to me”, he said. “I was young once too, you know, although that may seem hard to believe.”
She smiled a little, not because she wanted to but because he was kind and deserved it.
“Georgiana”, she began after a while when he just kept looking at her, “is a good friend. She treats me like a sister. But… she doesn’t truly need me in her life.”
“And you”, said her Papa, “already have many sisters.”
Kitty inhaled the familiar scent of tobacco and old books, the scent of safety and warmth. In there, her father seemed to make all problems disappear, although he likely just pushed them out of his mind, trying to forget about them. What about heartache, what could he do about that?
“I thought for a while that she wanted something more. But she doesn’t, and… that makes me very sad. I know that one can’t expect a friend to… And I suppose it is wrong of me to feel this way…”
Kitty looked up at her father, expecting him to be either shocked or oblivious to the true meaning of her words, but he seemed to be neither.
“Maybe a common fool or a clergyman would agree to that - and they are often one and the same - but a man who has studied Plato and taken him seriously would not.”
“Oh, Papa!” Kitty shook her head. Her father was hopeless after all. “What can Plato possibly have to say about life here and now?”
“More than you think, dear. More than you think.”
He was quiet for a while and took his time to thoroughly fill and light his pipe.
“When I was young”, he began slowly, “I had a very good friend. We shared everything and I loved him dearly. We were young and happy. Very happy. But he… was swayed to believe our love was sinful, and he would have nothing more to do with me. He joined the church and went to live in a monastery. And I… I eventually married your mother. And my books…”
Kitty didn’t say anything. She simply stared at him, feeling the room swing and swirl as her view of the world changed.
“Kitty, my dear, I have never seen you happier than during your correspondence with Georgiana and it breaks my heart to pieces to see how unhappy you are now. And I am sorry to say that that is how it often turns out in life, maybe especially for those who love a member of their own sex, for that is frowned upon in our society.”
Kitty had figured that much out, but at least it was a slight comfort to know that her feelings for Georgiana were not completely unthinkable after all.
But that did not change the fact that Georgiana did not want her. What did that mean? Would she have to settle for somebody out of convenience?
“Lizzie once said: ‘Nothing but the very deepest love will induce me into matrimony’… and she married for love. Even Mary married for love.”
“Even Mary”, her father agreed. “And don’t think that I would ever want to see you marry a man you don’t love. As long as I am alive, you have a home here. And your sisters love you dearly. They will take care of you when your mother and I are gone.”
“Lizzie won’t.” Kitty suddenly felt hot, determined. “That is, I’ll never live at Pemberley. I don’t ever want to go there again!”
“Hush, my child!” Mr Bennet leaned forward as if to take her hand, but the wide desk was in the way. “Don’t be upset. Do not worry about the future. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
“Oh Papa, what can I do?”
“Cry, my child. It will not make the pain go away but it will make it easier to endure. And try not to be bitter. Try to be glad that you have been given a heart with the ability to love.”
Kitty did not understand how her father could say such a thing. She would much rather be like Georgiana who had a heart that did not need anything more than sisterly affection. She was perfectly happy being Auntie Georgie, the traveller and writer.
“Your friend”, she said, “what was his name? Did he love you back once, at least?”
Her father smiled and sighed.
“His name was Alexander. And yes, he did. I haven’t seen or written to him in forty years, but I’d like to think that somewhere deep down in his heart he still does.”
Kitty wondered what her father had been like when he was young. She tried to imagine him as a young man, sitting in a small and draughty, poorly lit university chamber together with another young man, their heads close together as they were completely immersed in the writings on old parchments, scribbling notes on paper, sometimes looking up when their hands brushed together, drowning in each other’s eyes…
“Lizzie and Fitz kiss each other all the time”, she mumbled. “Georgiana didn’t even want to kiss me once…”
She blushed, realising she had spoken aloud. Her father did not reply.
When she looked at him again, she saw that his eyes were shiny as if filled with tears.
Kitty had never even once seen her father cry. She had never even thought about the possibility of him crying. But now she wondered if it happened that he still cried over his lost love sometimes, when he was alone with his books and his memories.
She rose from the chair and he instantly reached his arms out; she fell into them and wept on his shoulder.
“Life is not fair to everyone”, Mr Bennet said. “That’s just the way it is, my child.”