"Yes?" asked Charlotte.
Kate’s eyes twinkled. "I am to become your friend and confidante, learn all your secrets, and carry them faithfully back to my master."
"Your father said that to you?" Charlotte inquired skeptically.
"No, of course not!" Kate laughed. "What an odd thing for a father to ask of his daughter. It is only that he has not mentioned my departure again since meeting you, and he has even asked how I liked my room. Since it is the same room I have enjoyed since we began these visits years ago, I can only suppose that it is your presence - the only thing that is different from the other visits - that is creating this change in him."
"The surprise of my appearance, after so many years, may have afforded you a temporary respite, but I caution you to avoid assuming that your father's initial resolve will not remain."
Kate smirked. The expression was fleeting, soon to be replaced by her previous façade of childish appeal, but Charlotte missed nothing.
"I like what you have done with your hair," Kate complimented. "Not exactly the Apollo, but it suits you. A different style than you wore when we first met. I overheard Mrs. Darcy compliment you as well."
It was true that Charlotte's hair had been styled quite differently prior to their walk. She had been carrying her bonnet when she had stumbled upon the Kellys at the base of the stairs, but the change of style was due to Molly's ingenuity, not to any attempt on her own part to impress the newcomers. She struggled to remain composed as she contrived an answer in defense.
"Lizzy, that is, Mrs. Darcy, has assigned a maid to me. I can take no credit for my hair," she admitted, wondering anew how it must look. She had meant to check her reflection as soon as possible after tea but had forgotten to do so.
Charlotte arose from her chair and marched to her looking glass. A gasp of surprise nearly escaped her lips as she beheld the artistry - the style of the hair together with her heightened color almost rendered her face pleasing. Kate's breathtakingly beautiful reflection appeared beside her own, casting Charlotte far into the shade, and she quickly withdrew.
"Molly is very clever," Charlotte admitted, taking another step away from the looking glass.
Kate, never having learned to disapprove her own image, remained frozen before the glass. She looked quizzically at Charlotte before straightening her posture and stepping away from the scope of the reflective surface.
"Your appeal lies deeper within than mine," she began wisely, "though I hope to achieve your success someday." She turned to stride resolutely to the door but spun on her heel to make one last declaration. "I should appreciate a mentor of your caliber."
If such apocryphal sayings were not unsettling enough, dinner only further upset Charlotte's equilibrium. Having grown used to being a Supportive Figure, she could scarcely have been prepared for her debut as the Focus of Conversation.
Any Darcy older than five years had been included around the table, filling it out quite nicely, and, once a topic had been introduced, nothing would suffice but to drag all possible detail from the heroine.
Kate shared what she had learned of Charlotte's fishing expeditions, expertly hooking Edward, William, and James Darcy; Mr. Kelly shared her aptitude for chess, thus engaging Mr. Darcy and Marianne; and Mrs. Darcy bragged on her jellies to such extent that Emma Jane begged for a sample to be procured from the pantry for Mr. Kelly's and Kate's approval.
"You see, my brothers acquired the worms," she would answer the boys, only to be questioned by a disgusted Emma Jane as to how worms could be at all useful in the making of jellies. "No," Charlotte corrected calmly, "the worms were for fishing; making jellies is a completely different thing. I am quite partial to a… knight, as I recall," she answered, clarifying a disagreement between Marianne and her father, "though I have not played in quite some time. No, not a knight jelly," Charlotte returned to Emma Jane, "I was only replying to your father and sister. What I meant to say was that … trout. We fished for trout. No, not for jelly. Good heavens." But she was to make little sense of the work for the entire ten courses.
That evening, as a matter of course, there was a scratch on Kate's door. When she bade enter, her father strolled into the room and leaned against the side of the bed where she lay propped in a mass of pillows and coverlets.
"Your Aunt Olive writes again to hasten your sojourn to Town," he opened cautiously. His daughter's gasp was not encouraging.
"To increase my wardrobe would only be excessive," she replied, waving her hand in a show of indifference, "but to know Mrs. Collins better could result in an improvement to my situation."
Mr. Kelly cast tired eyes at his belligerent daughter, but he steeled himself for the onslaught.
"In what way can knowing Mrs. Collins benefit you?"
"Your wording and your tone are insulting," she assured him with conviction. "If I may speak candidly, sir, she is yet another study of marriage in my pursuit for wisdom. Neither you nor I wish for me to marry selfishly with the sole purpose of manipulating my way into a title as did my mother, nor do we desire for me to become infatuated and marry in the guise of love as you did. Mrs. Collins is neither selfish nor capable of infatuation, nor do I believe that she married for affection; thus, she married from a sense of duty. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy and Aunt Margaret and Uncle Richard married from feelings of love and respect; Aunt Olive and Uncle George, if they did not begin with affection, have at least boasted a constant regard that blossomed into a kind of affection. So, you see," Kate finished as one putting a period to a winning argument, "I must complete my research with a circumstance similar to the Collins's."
"They are still people, my dear," Mr. Kelly gently pleaded.
"And so am I," insisted Kate. "If I wanted a shallow marriage, a title, and a fortune and cared not for the character of the man I married nor for the nature of our regard for each other, then I would welcome my debut into High Society. But I care nothing for those things!"
As her father began to turn away, she clasped his hands between her own. "I do require a comfortable fortune as I have not been used to poverty and would have no skills to improve our situation, but I do not wish to sacrifice my happiness on the altar of duty!"
"I do not ask that of you," her father replied forcefully. "I ask only that you go to Town for a Season - one Season - and give the gentlemen a chance."
"It is a Marriage Mart, Papa," Kate complained. "The Gentlemen go to find an heiress to save their fortunes or to find a wife to provide the heir. Or, more likely, both. The lifestyle is abhorrent. Not one of the couples we know who is happy in marriage met their spouse in Town, and I cannot name a couple who engaged themselves as the result of a Season in Town who are content with their lot."
"What does Mrs. Collins have to do with any of this?” he asked. “She never had a Season in Town. Perhaps, if she had, her story would be much different."
Kate sat in stony silence as she considered her reply. In the end, she opted for blatant truth.
"Your eyes light up when you watch her."
"What?" Mr. Kelly asked in disbelief.
"’Tis true, Papa," she said, a little sigh escaping. "You enjoyed watching her at dinner, dutifully attempting to answer every question and attend to every utterance that came her way. You were the only one of us to earn her particular smile when you asked if she would not prefer a room in Bedlam to a seat at the table at Pemberley, and, after dinner, when you and Mr. Darcy entered during her recital at the pianoforte, her fingers stumbled a bit, and you shared a peculiar look."