Page 82 of The Secret Diary of Anne de Bourgh

Kitty has come with us, and Darling is already acquainted with more of the house than I am. Luna was more cautious, though she has now discovered a chair in my room which appears to meet her requirements. I had intended to sit in it myself, but will have to remember to spread a napkin on it before I do so, lest I cover my gowns in cat hair.

There are trunks still to be unpacked, and Kitty has expressed wishes to visit her aunt Gardiner as soon as it can be arranged. I am looking forward to seeing her too. It will be pleasant to tell her about Mary’s wedding. They had planned to attend, but their youngest child was unfortunately unwell and they had to send their regrets. Elizabeth has sent a note to inquire about the child’s health, and invite her uncle and aunt to call as soon as they please. Kitty chafes at the delay, but accepted Darcy’s quiet words that she was not to visit a house of sickness, lest she put Elizabeth’s health at risk.

Mr Byerly asked a great many questions about the wedding. He was particularly interested to hear how Christopher had looked, and said that his sister would wish for a full account of Mary’s gown.

“Kitty can supply that far better than I can,” I told him. “I shall certainly forget something important.”

Kitty needed very little encouragement. He listened patiently to her explanation, though I do not believe he understood all of it. I did not, and I had seen the gown.

When we had finished with the wedding, he reminded me of our proposed visit to see some art galleries.

“I hope you have not forgotten, Miss de Bourgh.”

“Not at all. I should be very sorry if you had.”

He smiled at that, and began to tell us of several things he thought we might enjoy in town. Elizabeth said that we must first be permitted to discover where our gloves and bonnets had been put, but that she was sure something could be arranged.

I was glad to see him. The mere thought of London has been intimidating me for months, and it was pleasant to hear a familiar voice and resume a conversation which did not require any introductions.

He asked after my rose before he left.

I told him that I had entrusted it to Pemberley’s gardener, who was far better qualified to care for it than I was.

“Though I hope he will remember that it belongs to me,” I added.

Mr Byerly laughed. “I do not think there can be much danger of that.”

14 October

We have been to a ball this evening, and I am very tired, though not yet sufficiently sleepy to go to bed.

There were a great many people whom I did not know. Elizabeth told me that I need not remember every name at once, which was fortunate, for I forgot several almost as soon as I heard them.

Mr Byerly found us before I had quite finished looking about me.

He asked for a dance, and seemed so pleased when I agreed that I was glad I had not had time to become nervous about it. I know perfectly well how to dance, but a room full of strangers makes me feel that I may have forgotten.

He is a pleasant partner. We returned to our disagreement about one of the books we had discussed at Pemberley, and by the end of the dance I had almost ceased to notice how many people were watching from the sides of the room.

Jane and Charles were there. Jane looked very pretty, and Charles seemed to know everybody, or at least to be very glad to meet those he did not.

I spoke briefly to Miss Bingley, who enquired after our journey and hoped that we had left Pemberley well. Before I could say much in reply, somebody addressed Elizabeth and our little party was divided. I did not find myself beside Miss Bingley again.

Mr Byerly, on the other hand, seemed to find me without any difficulty.

When I was sitting with Georgiana, he came to ask whether we wished for refreshment. Later, he introduced a lady who had admired Kitty’s gown and wished to know where it had been made. Kitty was very pleased to explain her part in it, and I was pleased with him for remembering her interest.

He also found an opportunity to ask whether I thought London would compensate me for leaving Derbyshire.

“I have scarcely seen enough of it to judge,” I said.

“Then I must hope you will allow me to assist you in forming a favourable opinion.”

I told him that he had made a very agreeable beginning.

He looked at me for a moment before answering, and I wondered whether I had said something more encouraging than I intended. Yet it would have been ungracious to pretend that I had not enjoyed his company.

Elizabeth asked, as we waited for the carriage, whether I had had a pleasant evening.