It's a truth, generally acknowledged, that where one happily ever after begins, a strangely beginning after can occur. Now that Elizabeth and Jane have found their ideal husbands, Kitty Bennet finds herself restless and in turmoil.

Separated from her newfound love, she looks for new diversions to keep herself from thinking of what might have been. Her frustration is short lived when she is invited to London by Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, for here she is introduced into a society she had only read about. Will she find someone here with whom she might share something special? Perhaps! But…perhaps not the way she expected.  She does become acquainted with Darcy’s sister, Georgianna, with whom she forges a deep bond.

A surprise wedding brings home the reality that she is still a single young lady who is free to discover the world and whatever it brings!

Here comes the next chapter in Kitty Bennet's Adventure series!

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Release Date: July 23, 2024
Genre: Historical | Regency

~ A Pink Satin Romance ~

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Excerpt

Chapter One

Weddings: such stiff situations, while also being an event that leads to monumental effects!

There I sat in the pew, next to Mary, Mother and Father, and proceeded to watch as Jane and Elizabeth were standing next to Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. They stood before our vicar, well on their way to the rest of their lives, the rest of their love, and the rest of their liberty each unfolding and being shared with the other.

And yet—weddings themselves! When thinking about the matter, my mind wanders to all the events that led up to this moment. To the adventures, the misadventures, the roads taken, the roads not taken, and the ‘could have beens’ and ‘should not have beens’.

From when Mr. Bingley arrived at the Assembly in Meryton for the first time, with his company consisting of Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, and Mr. Hurst.

To Jane’s going to Netherfield, falling ill, and Elizabeth having to go there to tend to her.

To the Netherfield Ball.

To Mr. Bingley leaving Netherfield Park and it appeared as if he would never return.

To Mr. Collins marrying Charlotte Lucas.

To us losing Longbourn.

To Mr. Dixon proposing marriage to me and me having to reject him.

To accidentally falling in love with Lieutenant Finlay.

To seeing Lydia run away with Mr. Wickham, our family suffering ruin, me being blamed for it, only for Mr. Darcy to come in and pay Wickham to marry Lydia...

All these complications to eventually arrive at one simple conclusion: for Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy to return to Hertfordshire and marry my older sisters.

To think! All the schemes and events that tried to thwart this outcome, came to naught. Thus, it follows that the answers to all the complications in life can all be solved with one word: simplicity.

Also, it follows that all the events that led up to a wedding can be larger than the wedding itself. The pursuit, the disappointment, the courtship, the engagement…to be sealed by an hour’s service that is so brief and quickly done, often with very little ceremony attached to it (I’ve rarely seen a wedding gown that eclipsed a ballgown).

Would I ever walk down the aisle myself?

Or better put, would I ever even fully want to? After all, my life’s problems were now resolved. Three out of the five of us Bennet sisters were now married, and all three of them showed promise for a lady such as me. And by that, I meant a lady who was ever so torn into what direction her life ought to go.

After scrutinizing the two couples and letting the vicar’s words roll over my consciousness, I decided to analyze everyone else in the pews. Sometimes, there is nothing more amusing than studying everyone around you. Even when you arrive at the wrong conclusions about their nature, at least you will be amused.

Usually when it comes to a wedding, only the immediate family in the area attends. Somehow, it was more than that. Our Aunt and Uncle Philips were in the company, standing a couple pews behind us, on the right. Next to them was Mr. Henry Atkins, who was my uncle’s clerk. Despite having no familial ties to us, it didn’t matter. Having been connected to our family, and such a dear friend for so many years, he knew his obligatory attendance was implied. And he would have preferred it no other way.

Next was our Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, who had specifically come from London for the wedding. Having left their children in the care of their governess, in town, they planned to stay for a week, to enjoy the wedding and the ball that would occur the next evening. In their eyes was a serene and subtle feeling of joy and satisfaction. This reaction was proper, because, as I understood it, they were the accidental means of bringing Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy together. After all, it was their desire to see Pemberley that led to both the younger people meeting each other again and beginning their path to falling in love. By doing such, Aunt and Uncle Gardiner became the means through which Jane and Mr. Bingley ended up united as well. After all, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth proved to be dominos whose affection for each other fell over others in the best sort of way.

And then came Mr. Bingley’s sisters. Faith, I believe he had more of them, but the only two who attended were Miss Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Hurst—whose husband was not in attendance. Mrs. Hurst looked a little apprehensive, but she would occasionally mask it with a gentle resolve that indicated her attempts to be getting over the fact that her brother didn’t marry the woman that she wished.

Miss Bingley was a whole other matter. She sat there, her face a painful contradiction. Despite her calm demeanor, she could not conceal the occasional resentment that she obviously felt for Elizabeth. I never got fully acquainted with her—after all, she couldn’t stand me. But I was not wholly blind to her nature and where her attentions always fell. I was always acutely aware that she often paid close attention to Mr. Darcy. She viewed his opinion in high regard, and held it in such deference, that it could even be labelled as hero worship. Yet all her designs came to naught, and Mr. Darcy chose another woman instead. How, indeed, she must have felt the sting of betrayal—nay, she did feel it. Every now and again, her jaw tightened and revealed the painful heartbreak that must have lay underneath.

Well, I thought to myself, Miss Bingley, I never liked you. Therefore, I could not be happier than to see you squirm in your skin, seeing how a country girl bested you in every way.

In the front pew was Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy’s sister. Since she had come the day before, I still had not made her acquaintance. She appeared to be happy, but I had no way of fully knowing that. Her face was very hard to read, and I worried that it would always be that way.

Then, to my surprise, my eyes fell on Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Ah, Colonel Fitzwilliam!

There he stood, in his regimentals, serving as the best man for both his cousin and Mr. Bingley.

I analyzed his person, countenance, and character.

In the brief time that I met him, I liked him immediately. He was almost as tall as Mr. Darcy, but therein is where the similarity ended. His face was not nearly as handsome as his cousin’s, but I still preferred it. He reminded me...of Lieutenant Finlay.

Finlay!

When thinking of him, I felt my stomach grow heavy and my spirit turn to lead as it sunk within me. Finlay, where were you now, what were you doing, and are you thinking of me?

Finlay, now and forever, perhaps would always be my definition of the ideal. When looking at Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, I combined their looks, natures, and dispositions. That was Finlay. He had Darcy’s looks and the Colonel’s attractiveness and nature.

Oh, how I was ever to fully forget him? Then again, I didn’t want to.

Suddenly, Colonel Fitzwilliam’s gaze met mine. I suddenly felt giddy. Throwing caution to the winds, I decided to make a funny face at him. I put my finger under my nose and raised it up. Whenever I did that, it made me look like a pig.

When seeing that, Colonel Fitzwilliam’s eyes relaxed and he clearly was stifling a laugh. He managed to master himself, and let his guffaws become no more than a smirk. He maintained his focus on the ceremony, but every now and again, our eyes met, and we let our attention rest on each other.

Whenever he did such, I felt elated. It often helped me rise out of my gloom and rally against the loss of Finlay’s company. Colonel Fitzwilliam, you may prove to be indispensable to my happiness—for you might end up being a real friend. Or perhaps, I read too much into an acquaintance made in an hour’s time. But what is wrong with hoping that you can have a friend somewhere?

The Lucases, except Charlotte, were also there, as well as the Longs and the Kings. All of them were a mixture of true respect, indifference, curiosity, or very subtle envy.

Never mind! Weddings could be the perfect place for amusement.

Finally, it was time to offer the rings.

Colonel Fitzwilliam produced the rings that both gentlemen placed on our sisters’ fingers.

“I always wondered why men put rings on our fingers,” I whispered to Mama, “but we don’t put one on theirs?”

“Give a man a ring?” Mama replied, equally as quiet. “Kitty, sometimes I wonder where you get your ideas.”

I rolled my eyes.

The vicar asked if Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy took our sisters, to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, for as long as they both should live. They agreed to this.

“I do,” Elizabeth and Jane also echoed when the question was offered to them.

“I now pronounce you as Husband and Wife,” he said to Mr. Bingley and Jane. Then our vicar turned to Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth. “And Husband and Wife. All rise for Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, and Mr. and Mrs. Darcy!”

We all stood and cheered.

“Oh,” Mama whispered to Mary and me as the ceremony came to an end. “Hope is on the horizon for you both now! Your sisters have done right by you and you both must follow their example. Their connections will throw you both in the path of other rich men.”

“Mother!” Mary hissed, “shush!”

“Do not silence me, Mary. You forget who your mother is. Your sisters did their duty, and we expect you to do yours.”

Once again, I rolled my eyes. Three daughters married, and Mama was still not fully happy!

Mary and I rushed out of the church to do our duty. As was tradition, the wedding couple had to walk along the congregation that would throw the rice over them, and then at last pass under an archway of leaves. The second chore belonged to Mary and me.

When we exited the church before anyone, we got the laurel arch and held it in front of the carriages that would convey the two married couples back to Netherfield Park.

“I swear,” I said to Mary, “if we do manage to marry, she will say that we are disappointments if we do not produce a male heir. And then she will be upset if we do not have a prospective bride for them soon after they leave the nursery.”

“Do not give her any ideas by saying it out loud,” Mary said, as the congregation began to file out on both sides of the church doors. Among them was Mr. Atkins. Standing next to his employer, our Uncle Philips, Mr. Atkins caught Mary’s eye and winked at her. Mary chuckled at this, and I witnessed this exchange.

“Ah, Mary, you furtive little thing,” I remarked.

“What?” she scoffed.

I looked toward Mr. Atkins, and she understood my meaning.

“Oh, Kitty!” she remarked. “You need have no fear for me or worry. I only choose now to enjoy the friendship of men who care for my company, and that is all. There is nothing romantic in this.”

“Mary, his first name begins with ‘H’,” I said slyly, recalling Saint Andrew’s Eve, when we all predicted the first letter in the name of the man we were to marry.

Mary’s eyes widened.

“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” she asked.

“Yes, you did.”

“Well, that was a coincidence, nothing more.”

I could not tell if she was deceiving herself, or if she really did mean it.

“Believe this,” Mary confirmed. “I have washed my hands of preferring men unless I am sure that they contain any partiality towards myself. That, I find, to be common sense. Or it is, in my case. Believe me when I say this. Mr. Atkins has been the kindest man towards myself, so I will prefer his company, for no other reason than that he is gentlemanlike.”

“Very well.”

Then the idea of her past secret affection for Mr. Darcy and Mr. Collins ran across my mind.

“After all,” I continued, “I doubt even you have the ability to fancy three men in one year.”

“Kitty, you would make me quite ashamed of myself.”

“I do no such thing.”

I daresay that, to my surprise, I perhaps am the only one of the family who was aware of this side of Mary.

Eventually, the married couples emerged from the church, smiling merrily. Even Mr. Darcy’s face was lit up with joy. In seeing that, I knew. He did genuinely love Elizabeth. Enough to somehow find a way to ignore the attentions of our mother!

The attendees threw the rice over the new husbands and wives, and Mary and I held the arch of leaves proudly. As Jane and Elizabeth passed us, they kissed us on the cheek.

“Congratulations!” Mary and I cried, and it was sincere. We were truly happy for them, while not being jealous.

Despite my past affection for Mr. Bingley and Mary’s long-gone affection for Mr. Darcy, both men now had found their happiness with our older sisters, and there was no animosity or resentment. By only acceptance and complete understanding that this was how it all ought to have occurred, no one would know the efforts that Mary and I had truly risen above.

Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley helped our sisters in their curricles, and each produced a purse full of coins. All the children in the crowd ran forward, waiting for the coins to be thrown in the air. Not needing to join their company, I stood back and watched as my new brothers-in-law threw the coins in the air and the children rushed to pick them up.

When doing so, I overheard that my Aunt Philips forgot her fan in the church, so Mr. Atkins offered to go get it. As he disappeared back into the holy house, Elizabeth and Jane stood up in their carriages, each still holding their bouquets.

“Jane and I have decided to do something unique!” Elizabeth announced. “Whoever catches our bouquets shall be the next one to find their true love!”

We all looked, surprised.

“Is this a new tradition?” Maria Lucas asked, excited. “Or an old one?”

“I have no idea,” Miss Diana Long said, who was around our age. “It’s hard to keep track of whatever is new or old in this world anymore.”

At this moment, I saw Colonel Fitzwilliam emerge from the church, followed by Mr. Atkins, who carried Aunt Philips’s fan.

Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other and threw their bouquets at the crowd. All of us young ladies raised our arms, but interestingly enough, Jane and Lizzy accidentally overthrew our hands. We turned to where the flowers fell and, to our surprise, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Atkins accidentally caught them! It clearly had been an action of the reflexes, because they were active sorts of men who perhaps were used to catching things that were dropped.

When all our eyes fell on them, both men looked down at the flowers in their hands, looked at each other, then looked at the crowd, and their reactions were quite memorable.

“Oh, God!”

Both men dropped the bouquets on the ground and stepped away from them, as if the flowers had suddenly turned into an assortment of snakes.

“Mine!” Miss Diana Long cried. She, Maria, and a few other young ladies rushed to get the flowers, trying to secure them.

“Oh, why not!” I cried, dropping the archway, and racing after it. “I just want one flower! That’s all! Everyone else can have the rest!”

“Diana!” Mrs. Long called after her niece, “don’t be so foolish!”

“Kitty!” Mama cried.

Overcome by the fun madness of it, all us young ladies, except Mary, dashed over to the bouquets and tried to pick them up.

We all learned something vital that day: when a collection of young women is rushing after something and grabbing it at the same time, there will be a collision. In fact, there will be a feminine avalanche, where all the ladies accidentally pile on top of each other, in a mad scramble for possession of it. Six of us women accidentally pushed each other to the ground and grabbed at the bouquets!

“I just want one flower,” I yelled, “just one! Can’t I be given that? I’m their sister!”

At last, I managed to grab one large white flower from the set.

“Ha!” I cried. “Got it!”

I rolled off the other women and cherished my captured fortune.

Soon after, Maria and Diana Long jumped up.

“I’ve got Elizabeth’s bouquet!” Maria cried.

“And I’ve got Jane’s!” Diana cried.

Their faces fell when they saw everyone gawking at us.

“Well,” Elizabeth proclaimed, her face a mixture of wonder and amusement, “it is best that we marry only once, if we can help it. Because now Jane and I know to never do that again.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Mr. Atkins acknowledged, “this might very well be the most memorable wedding in Hertfordshire’s history.” He walked over to us ladies and began to offer us his arm to help us up. “And I wouldn’t want to forget one moment of this. Not one line. I shall always remember when this wedding occurred.”

As I waited for him to reach me, I was surprised when I saw a hand reach down to my left, to offer assistance. I looked up at who owned it and I saw Colonel Fitzwilliam’s face, smiling down at me. I could barely see him for the sun that cast its gaze behind his head.

“Admirable efforts,” he said, as I placed my hand in his.

“Thank you,” I replied. He helped me up, even going so far as placing his other hand on the other side of my back to steady me. “Well, that was quite good fun, despite what appearances may render it. How unfortunate that it appeared distasteful.”

“I found it amusing. Clearly so did Mr. Atkins.”

“I happen to enjoy it when humanity shows signs of life,” Mr. Atkins said, his general good cheer overriding other’s negative attitudes toward us. This was followed by Sir William Lucas, who came up to Maria and wrapped his arm around Maria’s shoulders.

“My daughter got the bouquet,” he said, admiringly. “Yes, I daresay that a desirable event may befall you happily.”

“How unfortunate that this tradition will never happen again,” I said to Sir William. “It was enjoyable while it lasted.”

“Yes,” Maria cried. “A pity that bouquet-throwing must have such a short lifespan.”

“Well, I most certainly enjoyed it,” Diana Long said. She looked down at her bouquet fondly. “What a pity that no other wedding will know what this sensation feels like.”

“Come along you all!” Mama cried. “And remember who this day is about.”

“We never forgot, Mama,” I responded, then I turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam, and twirled around. “Do I have anything on my gown?”

“Some stains,” he responded. “I will help you remove them in a moment.”

We all went up to the carriages and the expressions were pretty consistent with the wearer.

Mr. Bingley laughed at our display and thought it was very amusing.

Jane was serenely compassionate. She smiled but didn’t say anything.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at us.

“I should not have been surprised at all.”

Mr. Darcy just looked...serious.

He might have been a little vexed, so I thought it best to remind him of our newfound tolerance of each other.

Leaning forward, conspiratorially, I chuckled.

“Remember, sir. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life.”

“My sister is teasing you,” Elizabeth said to Mr. Darcy. “Be prepared for much of that during our marriage, and it shall come at you from many sides.”

Mr. Darcy leaned forward.

“Miss Kitty,” he said, his eyes serious. “If you were my sister, I would chastise you for this day. However, you are correct, and I shall give into the moment. But I will only go so far that I will give you a half-smile, and no more.”

And he did! He gave me a half-smile.

“That was more than anything I expected,” I replied, smiling gently, because I was a little insecure.

“Still intimidated by me?”

“Yes. But thank you for that.”

Elizabeth leaned into Mr. Darcy and pressed her lips near his ear.

“Welcome to the family, Mr. Darcy.”

He turned to her.

“Welcome to my name, Mrs. Darcy.”

Elizabeth’s smile lit up her face.

“Good answer. Anything less would not have been worthy of you.”

Metal objects were tied to the back of their carriages, to signify them being newlyweds, and we cheered for them as the carriages began to ride off. Despite that we would see them in two days’ time, we still waved, as if we wouldn’t see them for months. It just felt proper.

 

* * *

 

And so, the wedding day ended.

They began the day as Jane and Elizabeth Bennet.

And they would leave the day as Jane Bingley and Elizabeth Darcy.

I looked down at my rose and held it firmly.

“Rolling around in the ground for a bouquet of flowers,” Mrs. Long said to Diana as they left. “What would your mother say? Oh, why do I speak such? I know my sister; she would have encouraged you.”

Maria came up to me and placed her arm in mine.

“Soon, it will be your turn?” I said, looking at the bouquet in her hand.

“I would like that.”

“I know that you would. Just do not do it quickly.”

“Why ever not?”

“There is more sport in taking one’s time.”

“We don’t always have much time.”

“What?” I laughed. “I don’t care what anyone says. We are not even twenty. We are just at the beginning of our lives. Why rush to the end of it?”

“Marriage is not an end, Kitty. It’s the ultimate beginning.”

“Yes, it just might be.” Once again, I looked down at my rose. “Or maybe it’s the last beginning of many other beginnings that ought to come before it. Jane and Elizabeth are older than us. They had their many beginnings. It would be a shame if I did any less than that. No, I want more beginnings! Whatever they may lead to.”

Turning to my left, I saw that Colonel Fitzwilliam was standing nearby. He might have overheard everything.

 

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