Page 9 of Kismet

Reaching out, she had attempted to clasp his hand in comfort. He allowed it for a time, but not for long. Regrettably, he abandoned the moment and redirected his attention towards overseeing things. The Matlock carriage had to be brought somewhere to possibly be repaired and a single horse laid in front of the ruined carriage. Catherine's stomach turned at the sight of the animal, its limb twisted at an unnatural angle. The poor creature's suffering had come to an end with the sound of the shot she heard. It was evident that the only surviving horse was agitated by the accident and the chaos that unfolded. It was frantic, shaking its head and stomping in an unhappy fashion.

Part of her had wished that she could help, but in the end, she had gone back to the carriage and rode on to Darcy House. There were several injured people, but there were also more than enough people to help them. A man was moving among them with a medical bag dispensing aid and wrapping injuries. There was no need for her to stay, and she was aware that her presence would probably slow down the demanding work that lay ahead.

As she arrived at Darcy House, she could hear people bustling around, gathering items to aid in the accident. Elizabeth was there to gather Georgiana to her and hold her while she cried. After some time, she began guiding Georgiana up the stairs toward her room.

“He is gone, Lizzie. Cedric is gone.” Georgiana's pain spilled out of her as easily as the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

The group followed behind Elizabeth as she led Georgiana to her room, the air thick with grief. “Oh darling, I am so sorry. Let me help you get out of those clothes and into something comfortable.”

Georgiana looked at Elizabeth with concern. “But what about Artie? Is he all right?”

Smoothing the blonde hair away from Georgiana's face, Elizabeth reassured her. “He has a fever and is congested, but they have him breathing steam. Lydia has taken over the nursery and is directing everything for his care. He will be fine for a few minutes while I am with you.”

“Where is William? Does he know?” The sorrow that consumed Georgiana seemed to have physically diminished her, leaving her looking smaller and fragile.

“He went to go be with Theodore.” Elizabeth’s voice, while quiet, was still strong. It was a strength that they were all going to need.

Catherine watched them go into Georgiana's room, and she moved to her own only two doors down. She shared a sitting room with Georgiana while Mary shared one with Mrs. Ansley. Her maid, Lambert, was there waiting for her to help her get ready for bed. She mechanically went through her bedtime routine, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to sleep. Even the tea her maid brought her, the relaxing tea Jane always prepared for the family, did not help.

The night dissolved into a tapestry of violet and lavender, as she couldn't shake off the painful memories of the evening, which wrapped around her mind like a veil. Despite her desire to sleep, to momentarily escape the tragedy that would haunt her and her family, Catherine was still staring at the ceiling above her bed hours later. The night had been long and difficult, and the day promised to be no better. She could not recall sleeping, only tossing and turning, and her bed was a tangle of blankets and sheets, thrown about in a disorderly fashion.

Eventually she had given up and got out of bed. There was no point in lying in the dark any longer. She slipped into her simple gray gown unassisted as she did not want to call for her maid. Solitude allowed her mind to untangle the mess of thoughts and emotions whirling around inside her. Putting her hair up in a simple knot, she went downstairs to see who was about.

The morning room was set with coffee and tea and various breakfast foods. Despite the early hour, William and Elizabeth were sitting at the table, speaking softly. They clasped each other's hands as they always did, but this time their grip was tighter, as if seeking comfort in each other's touch during this difficult time.

Passing up the tea that she desperately knew she needed, she went to Elizabeth and gave her a hug. She craved the human connection even more than the hot cup of comfort. Wrapped in Elizabeth’s warm embrace, she felt protected and safe from the turbulent sea of her emotions. At least until she stepped back and had to face the cruel reality of the day.

“Did you manage to sleep at all, Kitty?” Elizabeth looked at her in concern, always looking out for others. Despite the grim circumstances, Catherine smiled faintly at the use of her sisters’ nickname for her. Though some people might look askance at such a nickname, Catherine cherished it. She had often been told the story of how the nickname came to be. Somehow, when Lydia started talking, she had gone from Catherine to Cat to Kitty, not that she remembered it much.

“I do not think so, but I could not lie there any longer.” Catherine shook her head and moved to get herself a cup of tea. She added a liberal dash of milk and several lumps of sugar, feeling she would need it for the day before her. It had not even been twelve hours since she ate supper with Cedric. He had been so happy and now he was gone.

“I think we will find that most everyone had trouble sleeping. It will be a rough day,” Elizabeth spoke quietly while she stirred her coffee.

“How is Artie doing this morning?” Catherine queried as she moved to sit with her tea.

“He had a surprisingly good night's sleep, and this morning his fever has all but disappeared, but he is still struggling with a stuffy nose. I am glad it is not worse. As it is, it is heartbreaking to see him suffering, especially when he can't communicate what he needs.” Elizabeth put on a brave smile, but no one doubted how much she worried for her little boy. Little Arthur was just over a year old and he already had everyone wrapped around his tiny fingers. Elizabeth was an exemplary mother, taking care of him herself as much as she was able despite it not being a popular idea amongst society.

Catherine took a sip of her tea, feeling the warmth spread through her body, bolstering her for the difficult conversation ahead. “William, how are you this morning? I cannot imagine how you must be feeling right now.”

Looking up at Catherine, Darcy gave a wan smile. He had deep shadows under both his eyes, suggesting he had not slept at all either. “Thank you for your concern, Catherine. I was not as close to Cedric as I am to Theodore, but I am still deeply affected by his death.” He briefly glanced at the ceiling, as if trying to make sense of it all, before shaking his head. “It has been a tremendous shock.”

“I wish I knew the right words to say to make things better.” Catherine glanced at Elizabeth as she put her arm around her husband, offering the comfort that he needed.

Darcy held his wife’s gaze for a moment before turning back to Catherine. “The fact that you want to be here for me is enough.”

Despite the circumstances, Catherine couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy towards her sister's loving relationship. She felt a pang of longing as she realized that watching them might be the closest she ever came to experiencing something like it. She had felt nothing remotely like it with any of the gentlemen she met at the various dances and social events she was required to attend. As she gazed into her cup, she couldn't help but contemplate how being surrounded by babies, with Elizabeth, Jane, and her mother all experiencing the joy of motherhood within a short span of time, offered her a sense of purpose. There was sure to be more too, especially since William and Elizabeth seemed to be unable to stay away from one another. There would at least always be the need for someone to help tend them.

Catherine took another fortifying sip of tea before broaching the topic that had been worrying her all night. “How was Colonel Fitzwilliam when you saw him last night?”

Rubbing his face, William responded with a pained air. “There was something about him that was not himself. Despite the surrounding chaos, he remained composed and handled everything efficiently. From checking on people to tending to injuries, he made sure everyone was taken care of with great diligence. He even made sure that the carriage was hauled safely to a blacksmith, though I doubt it can be salvaged.” With a sigh, Darcy shook his head. “Theodore managed to hold back his grief until he reached home with Cedric's body, but once there, it consumed him entirely.”

“I worry about him. He held his brother in high regard and never aspired to the position of earl,” Elizabeth spoke into the somber room.

Catherine felt a deep ache in her chest, knowing how much Colonel Fitzwilliam must be suffering. Was it only the night before that he had brought so much light into her evening? He treated her with respect, valuing her opinions and allowing her to freely express herself regardless of her gender. It was ironic that he, who was always so eager to help, was now the one in desperate need of assistance. She worried he would not see the need to accept it. “I worry about him too.”

Catherine sat alone in her sitting room. She had retreated from a household that was alive with preparations. Despite the frenzied atmosphere, there was a clear sense of order and purpose in the house. The servants moved swiftly and efficiently, each one knowing exactly what needed to be done. Becoming a house in mourning was not such a simple thing. Plans for the funeral were being discussed and black dresses were being found for all the ladies.

Taking up her paper and pencils, she positioned herself at the desk in front of the window that looked over the courtyard. Instead of admiring the beautiful sight, she turned her attention inward, as she often did before working on a creative project. Her fingers itched to create, and she found solace in the texture of charcoal and pencils, ink and paint. She had to bring a stability of some kind to the staggering feeling of grief she was lost in. There was a way to bring some kind of positivity to all the negative that surrounded her. There had to be.

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