"Mrs. Darcy," she began cheerfully, "your astonishment must rival my own. What do you think, but my Papa and your dear friend are old acquaintances? Nay, I fear it must have been a friendship of sorts, for they know naught of each other save for childhood sobriquets."
Mrs. Darcy looked quizzically between the two alleged offenders, her dark eyes flashing with amusement.
"Though I should dearly love to tease you both," she said at last, "I fear I must quell the urge in favor of a more responsible act. Shall I take you to your rooms?"
"That will be unnecessary, I assure you,” answered Mr. Kelly. “Only tell me the designation or call the housekeeper if you must."
"I am not so helpless as that," Mrs. Darcy replied.
"Nonsense," Charlotte replied. "All I heard about at dinner last night was of the efficiency of your household and how it would run without you. While I do not believe the latter for a moment, not wholly, I have experienced the former. You must allow your staff to perform. They take as much pride in the office as you do in the execution."
"I have no recollection of that particular conversation at dinner," Mrs. Darcy replied, one brow arched, "but I do recall the rigorous warnings from Mr. Darcy."
Mrs. Collins acknowledged the hit with a slight lift at one corner of her mouth. "How tiresome to boast such an attentive husband."
"Quite so," replied Mrs. Darcy. "Very well," she sighed, "Stevens will take you to your rooms. I shall fetch my bonnet for our walk," she said to Mrs. Collins.
"Oh!" Miss Kelly exclaimed. "How vexatious! But I was just on the verge of begging Mrs. Collins to accompany me on a walk to the stream. Such a dear little bridge! And the day is exceptionally fine for a long walk. Being confined in a carriage all morning, and another day besides, pushes me beyond endurance. You will not mind relinquishing your dear friend on this one occasion?" she pleaded, her expression one of angelic intervention.
Stressing her point further, she added, “I have a nagging suspicion that my father means to send me away immediately, and I fear losing the one opportunity I may ever have to know my father’s friend.”
Mrs. Darcy could do naught but relinquish her position and gaze in growing wonder at the backs of the departing ladies. Her attention was soon demanded by a gentle clearing of the throat. She spun on her heel to find Mr. Kelly studying her from beneath his brows.
"Should I be concerned that my daughter has found an ally?"
"An ally?" Mrs. Darcy repeated in confusion. "Dare I ask why your daughter is in need of one?"
Mr. Kelly shifted his stance but maintained eye contact. "She wishes, nay, demands, to postpone her Season again. If she could have her way - indefinitely."
"What power of persuasion could your daughter possibly suppose Mrs. Collins to have over you?"
"I know of none," he said, again shifting his weight, "but she has her mother's… intuitiveness."
Mrs. Darcy pursed her lips. "Does your daughter enjoy these types of comparisons?"
Mr. Kelly had not accounted for the tenacity of a female in confinement, and he was learning to regret his initial outburst. He retreated to safer ground.
"Miss Lucas, that is, Mrs. Collins," he corrected, wishing to relieve the pressure of the knot against his throat, "was a very sensible child. I trust she has not fundamentally changed."
"Though she has had every reason to withdraw into peculiarity," Mrs. Darcy asserted, "Charlotte has maintained a sensible and practical mind. I am sure your daughter, as well as your intentions, are safe from interference."
The conversation between the ladies in question was much less to the point and, thus, frustratingly comfortable. Mr. Kelly had done his daughter a great disservice to assume she would rush her fences with a new acquaintance. On the contrary, her mind was agreeably engaged in ascertaining the depth and breadth of her staid father's former relationship with Mrs. Collins.
"I do hope you did not mind the exchange of walking companions, Mrs. Collins," Miss Kelly began, "and we need not follow the course I detailed. I shall be content with whatever direction you choose."
Mrs. Collins smiled gently, amusement lighting her gray eyes. "In truth, a longer walk than would be seemly for Mrs. Darcy is just what I should prefer, and I am indebted to you for taking the lead."
Pleased with this beginning, Miss Kelly returned the smile and set their course for the quaint little stream with the bridge.
"The Darcy boys will likely be there, fishing for trout." She wrinkled her nose. "Such a mess they make of it! Digging for worms, impaling them with barbed hooks, then clasping the writhing fish in one hand whilst wringing the hook from its mouth," she said with abhorrence.
Glancing at her companion, Miss Kelly added, "The poor trout looks wild with fright, and I cannot imagine how the worm must look…" Her eyes drifted forward to the path. "If only a worm could manage an expression." She heard what sounded like a gurgle, and she turned quickly to find her companion struggling for composure.
Mrs. Collins cleared her throat, managed to achieve a modicum of control, and was able to make her reply. "You do not fish, I assume?"
Mrs. Kelly was astonished. "No!" Compelled by another idea, she gasped, "Do you?"
"There was a time when I found it enjoyable sport."
"Did you… fish alone?"
The corners of Mrs. Collins's lips curved up ever so slightly. "As the oldest child in my family, I was sometimes left in charge of my brothers, especially following the birth of our sister, Maria." Several steps of contemplation passed before she resumed the account. "I admit, I often forfeited the office of worm-hunting to my brothers, but they were much too young at the time to 'impale the worm with a barbed hook'."
Miss Kelly's topaz blue eyes were round for a moment, but she ended with a sigh. "I should have liked to have brothers, or, perhaps, a sister." The thought hung in the air as more steps passed in silence. "Though, I suppose, it was providential I did not."
If the comment was meant to snare an engaging response from Mrs. Collins, it did not hit the mark. Silence ensued until they reached the stream.
"I see the Darcy twins, just as you said," said Charlotte, pointing to the boys on the creekbank.
“Indeed," agreed Miss Kelly. "They have brought along little James - an incorrigible boy of six years. But wait!" Miss Kelly exclaimed in an eloquent show of surprise. "Were you not a girl of six when you met my father?"
The corners of Mrs. Collins's mouth uplifted once more, but whether from amusement of fond memories or of wondrous resolve, Miss Kelly was not to know.
"It must have been about that time, yes. I was too young to take charge of my toddling brother, and my Mama and Nurse were distracted by the new baby."
"And Papa was twice your age?"
"A little over, I suspect. He went to Cambridge the next year, I think. Such a young child's memory can be lamentable," she replied.
"He met Mr. Darcy at Cambridge," offered Miss Kelly in support of the theory. "I wonder why I have never heard of you."
"No, do you?" puzzled Mrs. Collins. "I should have wondered at it if you had."
Miss Kelly persevered, though she groaned inwardly at the circumspection of the older woman.
"So many years later, to recall your childhood monikers so readily - with such a disparity of age - not now, of course, but then, for an older boy to show any attention to a child totally unrelated to himself. Well, it must have involved special circumstances."
"His tutor was a particular friend of mine," Mrs. Collins offered by way of explanation. Two blinks of the eyelids passed before Miss Kelly gave up on further information.