If you have read No Other Choice (book 2 in the Choices series) you know that Colonel Fitzwilliam met Miss Kitty Bennet outside a milliner’s shop in Meryton. You’d also know that Kitty draws dress designs and occasionally sells them to Mrs. Havelston, who is a friend of Aunt Gardiner and a sought-after dressmaker.
That fact plays heavily into book 3, His Inconvenient Choice, and today, I’m plucking chapter 7 out of the book and sharing it here because it takes place outside of Mrs. Havelston’s shop and because it does a fine job (IMO lol) of both showing the desperate place the colonel is in and sharing the tone of the story.
For the curious (like me): There are twenty-three chapters in this book, so this is about a third of the way into the story.
Enjoy!
A damp, frigid gust of wind made Richard draw his coat more tightly around his neck and duck his head so that his hat and not his face felt the greatest amount of sting from the coldness of the air as he hurried along the street. He had chosen to leave his horse and travel as most did – on foot. He hoped he would be able to keep his horse once he was cut off, but today, he was going to live as if he had no horse. His freedom was worth more than a horse, and for him, that was no small thing to say. He had loved riding from the first time he had been placed on the back of a pony.
“Pardon me,” he said as he quickly stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with a footman who was assisting a lady to her carriage.
“Richard?”
He would know that voice anywhere. It was not just any lady who was returning to her carriage. He stopped and turned back. “Lady Matlock,” he greeted his mother with a proper bow. “It is a pleasure to see you.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Is it? I had thought you had forgotten about me entirely, since I have heard naught of you for four days.”
He gave her a sad smile. “I apologize, but is that not that to which we must grow accustomed?”
She motioned toward the carriage. “Sit with me. Just for a moment. I shall not try to force you to return home with me, but the wind is biting, and it would be far more pleasant to speak if we were out of it.”
He saw her shiver and knew he could not refuse her. “I will not tell you where I am staying or precisely how I have been keeping myself,” he warned as he offered his hand to help her into the carriage.
“I believe I can tolerate my curiosity not being assuaged for a few minutes of your time, but it does mean that you shall, then, have to listen to me complain about your aunt.”
She lifted her feet and put them on a warming box and then smoothed her skirts as Richard climbed into the carriage and took the seat across from her. It was nice to be out of the weather, and it was pleasant, in a bittersweet fashion, to be allowed to sit, perhaps for the final time, on this bench where he had so often sat in his life.
“That woman is truly lacking social grace!”
Richard chuckled and listened silently as his mother continued on for a few moments about the demands made on her staff by Lady Catherine and how Anne had spent the whole of her stay thus far in her chambers.
“I am convinced Anne is not at all as ill as she pretends.”
Richard had often thought that as well – during nearly every visit he made to Rosings in the spring, truth be told.
“But, then,” his mother continued, “I also cannot blame Anne for using the only means available to escape that woman. For that reason alone, I would like to see you marry her.”
“Are you truly saying that I should marry Anne to save her from her mother?”
“It is not the most horrible of reasons to marry.” Her eyes begged him to agree with her.
He shook his head. It was not the most horrible reason. Indeed, it was a far nobler reason than the one his father had presented, but it was still not an acceptable reason – at least, not for him. “She deserves to marry – and to be away from her mother – but I will not be the one to marry her, Mother.”
She sighed, and concern etched a deep crevice between her eyebrows.
Richard drew a deep breath and took her hand. He had to tell her the truth of how things were and would be even if he had not reached the end of his two weeks of contemplation time. There was no one he wanted to marry except Miss Katherine Bennet.
“I have made my decision,” he began and gave his mother’s hand a squeeze when she sucked in a quick breath. “I wish with all my heart that I could marry Anne just so I could remain your son, but I cannot.”
Lady Matlock placed her free hand on his cheek. The war of what she thought should be and what she wished for him played on her features. “You are certain?”
He nodded and turned his head to place a kiss on her gloved palm. “I am, and though I shall regret leaving you, I cannot bear to face the regret I would have if I stayed. I love her, Mother.”
“More than me?” she asked softly.
He shrugged, unwilling to say the truth and cause his mother’s pain, but equally unwilling to say he loved anyone more than he loved Kitty. “With all that I am and have.”
“Oh, my son.” She stroked his cheek.
“I am sorry, Mother.”
“As am I.” She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Perhaps your father will relent,” she said hopefully.
“You know, as well as I do, that he never relents.”
“I must hope.” Her lips trembled slightly as she attempted to smile at him.
And he would, too. He turned his head and placed another kiss in his mother’s palm.
“I beg your pardon, my lady,” her footman said upon opening the door and interrupting the intimate scene, “but there is someone who wishes to speak to you.”
“I have to go.” Richard moved toward the open door.
“Take care,” she said as he climbed out of the coach.
“I shall,” he reassured her before turning to leave, but he did not move further. For standing behind the footman, waiting to speak to his mother was Kitty. “Miss Katherine,” he managed to say.
She curtseyed deeply. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, my lady.” She kept her head bowed slightly as she extended a parcel to Lady Matlock, who had exited the carriage behind Richard. “You left this behind, my lady. I am happy to have found your carriage still here, as it has saved me the trip to your home.”
“Miss Katherine, is it?” Lady Matlock looked from Kitty to Richard, who was struggling to look anywhere but at the lady he loved. One of his mother’s eyebrows arched in question.
Richard gave her a small smile.
“If you wish, my lady, or Miss Bennet, if you prefer.” Kitty lifted her eyes to meet his mother’s.
“Tell me, Miss Katherine, do you draw?” she asked as she accepted the package from Kitty.
Kitty looked at her in some confusion. To her, it likely seemed a strange question, but to Richard it was not. His mother was verifying what she suspected. She had seen the picture Kitty had drawn for him.
“I do, my lady.”
“I am always curious about the accomplishments of other ladies,” his mother said with an air of nonchalance.
She was a practiced actress – one had to be to navigate the ton as successfully as she had for years.
“The museum affords great opportunities for sketching,” she continued, “though I find I do not enjoy the pastime myself.” She lifted the package that Kitty had given her. “However, this is an activity I find particularly enjoyable.” She looked at Kitty expectantly, as if she was waiting for Kitty to inquire about what activity it was that she found enjoyable. However, she was to be disappointed, for Kitty did not ask.
“Then, I am doubly glad to have been able to return it to you. It is important that everyone has at least one activity in which they find pleasure.” Her eyes darted to Richard for a moment before returning to hold his mother’s gaze again.
Was she saying that on his behalf? The thought made his chest swell a trifle with pride at her courage and devotion. How could he ever consider anyone but her as his future? He could not. He would not.
“Indeed.” His mother’s lips tipped up as if she was pleased by Kitty’s response. “Mine is embroidery,” she said, answering the question that had not been asked as she lifted the package again. “This is thread for that purpose.”
Kitty smiled, and not just politely. It was an expression that radiated her delight at what his mother had said. “I would not like to lose something so precious.”
This time, his mother’s lips did not just tip up as they had before. This time, they curled into an easy, relaxed, and utterly satisfied smile. He had known his mother would be charmed by Kitty.
“Do you enjoy embroidery?” she asked.
“Very much, my lady. I also enjoy a bit of millinery work, as well as sewing, but please do not ask me to play or sing, for I am afraid those are not among my talents.” She pressed her lips together as if stopping herself from speaking and dipped a curtsey. “My aunt is waiting; I must return to her.”
“Of course,” Lady Matlock said. “Thank you for returning my package to me.”
“I am happy to have been of service.” She dipped another curtsey, and her eyes turned to Richard for a moment before she returned to the shop.
His mother placed a hand on his arm, and when Kitty had gone back into the shop, said, “You were right. I like her very much, and I can see why you do, too. She is sweet.” Then, she entered her carriage and was gone, leaving Richard standing in front of Mrs. Havelston’s shop and wondering if he should enter.
