Page 22 of The Secret Diary of Anne de Bourgh

Yesterday I sent everybody away after abandoning the sketching party. Today Elizabeth came into my room while I sulked over tea and toast. She insisted I must visit Longbourn with the other ladies, since I had not yet seen it.

I admit to a little curiosity about the house where Lizzy and her sisters grew up, though I was not particularly eager to make the acquaintance of Mrs Bennet again. Nevertheless, I allowed Lizzy to cajole me into a pretty morning-gown and accompanied her downstairs to the carriage.

Mary and Kitty spend so much time at Netherfield that I was surprised to find them standing demurely behind their parents when we arrived. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst had cried off, so there was no one to object when Kitty beckoned Georgie and me round the side of the house. Jane and Lizzy stayed to greet their mother. Mr Bennet watched us go with a smile before turning back to his eldest daughters.

“Where are we going?” Georgiana asked breathlessly as we hurried along, lifting our skirts to move faster, hoping not to be called back.

“The stables. The cat has kittens, and we thought you would like to see them,” Kitty answered, slowing to a more sedate pace at last.

Kittens. I had never even seen one. I forgot my reluctance to come to Longbourn and hurried after Mary as she lifted the stable latch.

“Where are they?”

“Over here.” Mary took my hand and led me through the cool, quiet stable. In an empty stall, an old blanket lay over a nest of hay, and curled in its middle were a pale grey tabby cat and six tiny kittens.

A second blanket covered some hay bales beside the stall. I sat down there with my hands over my mouth, gazing at the kittens.

“They’re so tiny,” I whispered in awe as the kittens tumbled over each other, blinking dark blue eyes up at me. One of them squalled as his sibling stepped on his head, and Mary stooped to rescue him.

“Would you like to hold one?” Without waiting for an answer, she placed the kitten right into my hands.

“Oh.” Startled, I drew the kitten into my lap, uncertain how firmly to hold him. He squeaked indignantly, needle-sharp claws pricking through my gown as he wobbled about. “None of that, little fellow.” I took off my gloves to discover whether his fur was as soft as it looked. He was paler than his mother, almost white, with a few tabby stripes on his tail and a grey patch over one eye and ear.

Georgiana settled herself comfortably beside me with another kitten, stroking its tiny head confidently. She tickled under its chin and the tiniest squeaky rumble sounded; the kitten was purring.

“They like being stroked there,” Georgiana said confidingly, and I mimicked her movements, smiling with delight when my kitten began to purr too.

I have never touched anything so soft as that kitten’s fur. I could have stayed all day in the scent of horses and hay, listening to the mother cat purr as she fed the others and kept an eye on the ones Georgie and I held.

“How old are they?” Georgiana asked.

“About six weeks,” Mary said. “John Coachman would not tell Kitty or me until yesterday. He said the mother should be left undisturbed with her first litter.”

“They are the most perfect creatures I have ever seen,” I said, with perfect truth, even though my kitten had just decided he’d had enough of being petted and begun to squall loudly. The mother cat showed signs of anxiety, so I leaned down and regretfully placed the kitten back in the warm little nest.

To my surprise, the mother cat miaowed at me, as though to say thank you, before washing the kitten’s head briskly and nudging him back towards her belly for more milk.

“No, thank you, mama cat, for letting me play with your baby,” I said solemnly, making the other girls laugh. Kitty promptly picked up a different kitten and refilled my lap.

“This one’s my favourite. I’m going to ask if I can keep her. I’ll call her Darling.”

I immediately saw why; the kitten was pure white except for an almost perfectly shaped black heart, in the middle of her chest. “How adorable! How precious you are, Darling!”

We stayed in the stable above an hour, passing kittens around under their mother’s watchful eye. Darling fell asleep in Kitty’s hand. I wondered what Darcy and Lizzy would say if I asked for a kitten of my own. Perhaps Georgiana might ask as well, and we could have two!

Longbourn’s housekeeper came out at last to call us inside, and we left the stable with great reluctance. I resolved to beg a return invitation as soon as possible, longing to visit with the kittens again.

Much to my surprise, the rest of the visit was nearly as pleasant. Mrs Bennet was a gracious hostess in her own home, and at luncheon I recognised several dishes from the Bingley table.

Georgiana and I sat on either side of Mr Bennet at the head of the table. He asked Georgiana about a book he had noticed her reading during dinner at Netherfield the previous week. She told him it was Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, which Mrs Annesley had suggested to her.

“And how do you find the Bard?” Mr Bennet enquired. “Much Ado is a delightful play, though Twelfth Night was always my favourite among the comedies.”

“Oh, I read Twelfth Night at Pemberley only a few weeks ago!” I exclaimed, forgetting my shyness in the pleasure of joining the conversation. “I was quite delighted with it!”

Mr Bennet asked which part I liked best, and we talked through much of luncheon. I was sorry to return to Netherfield, and sorrier still when Richard was not well enough to dine and I spent the evening between Miss Bingley and Mr Hurst.

29 May