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

them married off, pushing them at any rich men who happen to come their way."
    Kitty scrubbed furiously at her eyes, then lifted her head. "Maybe Henry--Lord Carmichael--will still offer for me, though. I know he likes me. And he did ask me for my opinion on the upholstery of his new barouche. Don't you think that shows he must have serious intentions? I think it was his way of hinting that I would be riding in the barouche myself a great deal in future."
    I looked at her, with the eyelash tint smearing her face, the pretty pink gown she'd worn for the ball looking crumpled and her hair bedraggled as the curls she'd laboured over began to unwind. Maybe I ought to have told her what Lord Carmichael had said of her. Maybe it is crueler to let her have false hope than none at all. But I could not do it, even so.
    All I finally said was that it was very late, and she ought to try to get some sleep if she could. And Kitty yawned, scrubbed at her eyes again, nodded and went quite quietly back to her room.
    That was last night; I have not seen her yet this morning.
    I did see Edward, though. He was alone in the breakfast room when I came down, since Elizabeth was still upstairs in bed and my brother with her. Edward wasn't eating, just standing in front of the window and looking out towards the winter-bare trees.
    We didn't speak for a moment, just stood together. And then: "Edward, what are you going to do?" I asked.
    Edward slowly shook his head. "I don't know." There was a furrow between his brows. "On the one hand, it's not really any of my business to interfere." He rubbed the space between his eyes. "God, I feel like some gossiping elderly spinster just thinking about it. And yet on the other ... on the other, John Ayres is one of my officers. A friend. What kind of a friend would I be if I let him marry Miss Bennet in ignorance of all this?"
    "What kind of man is Captain Ayres if he can't see Kitty's character for what it truly is?"
    Edward turned from the window and looked down at me. "You think I ought to say nothing? Communicate nothing to John?" He didn't sound angry or as though he were arguing, only a tired and as though he honestly wanted my opinion.
    "I don't know." In a way, it doesn't seem fair that Kitty should suffer no consequences for what she's done. She has treated Captain Ayres appallingly badly these last weeks, even if he knows nothing of it. Besides which, if she had been seen last night by anyone but Edward and me, the scandal would have rebounded not only on her, but on Elizabeth, as well, since Elizabeth is her sister--which I'm sure Kitty didn't even for a moment consider.
    But I was sorry for Kitty last night--and I am still, now. I can remember what it was like last year, when my aunt de Bourgh was determined to see me wedded to the suitor of her choice. And I had my brother and Elizabeth both to support me and argue against my being pushed into a match.
    I was remembering, too, the last thing Kitty had said to me the night before, just as she left my room--which was to beg me to ask Cook to save some of the pastries from last night's supper for Thomas and Jack. "I completely forgot to bring them up any sweets from supper last night," she said. "And I promised them so faithfully."
    "I don't think you should say anything," I finally said to Edward. "Let me speak with Kitty before she leaves. She clearly can't stay here, not with Lord Carmichael still in the neighbourhood, and I'm sure Elizabeth will want her to go. But let her break the engagement to Captain Ayres herself. She can do that without any lasting damage to her reputation in the eyes of the world. And I'm sure I can get her to promise that she'll do it. She doesn't really want to marry him."
    Edward looked surprised--and then he let out his breath and relaxed. "You're absolutely right. That's much the best way." He slid one arm around me and pressed a kiss into my temple. "I think I'd better turn into one of those thoroughly cowed husbands