Pemberley to Waterloo: Georgiana Darcy's Diary, Volume 2 by Anna Elliott

find some solution. I promise you." He kissed her temple.
    Finally Elizabeth took the handkerchief from him, pressed it against her eyes, and then gave him a watery smile. "I'm sorry. I seem to be living up to everything everyone always says about women close to confinement."
    Edward's eyes met those of my brother over the top of Elizabeth's head, and Edward cleared his throat. "Why don't Georgiana and I go back to the ball and see if any rumours are circulating about Kitty and Lord Carmichael? If anyone else did see them together, we'll surely soon pick up word of it. And that will help determine what's to be done."
    My brother nodded to that. "Thank you."
    Kitty must either lead a charmed life--or else Fate was simply sparing Elizabeth worry--because Edward and I didn't hear so much as a whisper about Kitty or Lord Carmichael all the rest of the night.
    I even sought out Caroline. Because if anyone knew of any scandalous rumours, I was sure it would be her. And that she wouldn't in the slightest mind repeating them. But she didn't say anything--even when I ventured to remark that Lord Carmichael had left the ball very early.
    Finally the ball ended. Edward had found Frank at some point during the night and told him what had happened. And Frank offered to see Elizabeth up to bed while my brother and I bid good-bye to the departing guests. Fitzwilliam asked Edward if he'd come and talk things over with him now that the guests were gone. So Edward kissed me goodnight and went off with him--and I came back to my room. Which was when Kitty interrupted me just as I was writing down what had occurred.
    And that was when I did begin to feel genuinely sorry for her. Her face was all splotched and her eyes red and swollen. And she must have tried darkening her lashes for the ball last night, because her tears had made the kohl or whatever it was run in black stripes down her cheeks.
    She asked in a tear-clogged voice whether she could come in and talk to me, and then flung herself down onto the cushions of my window seat when I said she might.
    "What's going to be done with me?"
    She still sounded sullen, but somehow I didn't feel the same impatience I'd felt before.
    "I'm not entirely sure," I told her honestly.
    "Elizabeth will never let me stay. Not now." Kitty picked disconsolately at a loose thread on one of the cushions. "She's so--" But her voice broke before she could finish. Her face crumpled and she started to cry: great, ugly, tearing sobs. "All I wa-wanted," she finally choked out, "was to change my life like my sis-sisters did. Like Lizzy and Jane. They both made brilliant matches. Jane is married to Mr. Bingley--who is very wealthy indeed. And look at Lizzy. Mistress of a place like this!" She gestured all about her. "And I thought--I thought, why shouldn't I do just as well as they? They're not so very much pr-prettier than me. Why can't I be wealthy and have carriages and jewels and beautiful gowns, too?"
    She was still crying, but the words tumbled out faster and faster. "Ever since I can remember, all my mother has talked about is how we girls must all find husbands and marry as soon as we can. Because of my father's estate being entailed away. Do you know what it's like to grow up that way? It's hor-horrid! And it only got worse, not better, when Lizzy and Jane married so well and went away. And Lydia, who was the only one of my sisters who was ever any fun, is married and gone now, too. It's just me and Mary left at home for my mother to parade around and push on any eligible man who sets foot within five miles of the house--never mind if the man is old or ugly or has false teeth and stinking bad breath. John asked me to marry him, and I said yes, just so that my mother would stop and I could finally get away. But do you know what my life will be like if I marry John? Just like my mother's! He has no estate of his own--he's a younger son. What if I have daughters? I'll be left spending all my time scheming to get