~ 2 ~ The girl who causes problems
I have taken no books with me, knowing myself and knowing I won't read them anyway. Instead, I brought my sewing kit. Sewing is pretty much the only thing I'm (something close to) good at.
Yesterday I began to sew a scarf for Elizabeth, a present for my dear sister for taking me out of my misery for some time. It's getting colder, the leafs are beginning to fall, so she'll need it.
As I watch the beautiful castle slowly appearing on the horizon, surrounded by trees and a lake sparkling in the setting sun, I get a feeling that Mary was right. Suddenly, I'm so happy to be here! And I'm even happier when I see Elizabeth coming out of the house to greet me, graceful and light-footed as ever, closely followed by her husband, still as grim, yet handsome as I remember him, and a few servants. Mrs Reynolds, the only one of the landlord's servants that I know the name of, looks a little pale today.
The scarf is just ready by the time the carriage comes to a halt. I hang on to it when I get out because I want to give it to Elizabeth at once.
"Kitty! You're earlier than I expected."
Her remark causes me to pause next to one of the horses. Not quite the greeting I was hoping for. It makes me self-conscious. Is she unhappy about my early arrival? Was she enjoying her last hours of freedom before she was going to have to put up with her annoying little sister, and I just ruined it?
But I don't have time to think about whether or not this makes sense, when I notice another figure by the door. I turn my head slightly to look at the woman in the shadow of the pillars supporting the canopy, she takes a step forward – and when a reddish beam of light touches her stern, wrinkled face, I recognise her at once.
"Lady de Bourgh?" The sudden realisation makes me jump – literally.
I don't know how I managed to sting that poor horse in the butt with my sewing needle, but the next thing I notice is that it starts neighing like crazy. Elizabeth is by my side in no time to drag me out of the path of the horse gone wild, but then the carriage takes a sharp turn and sends one of my little suitcases flying into my sister's face, successfully knocking her out. The carter desperately tries to calm the horses while they run furiously towards the lake. When he does find a way to make them stop, it happens so suddenly that the poor man is flung out of his seat and lands in the cold water.
Some of the servants are already on their way to help him, the rest and Darcy are tending to my unconscious sister, and all I can do is stand there and watch in horror while Lady de Bourgh remains still by the door, acting as if it wasn't her fault that all of this happened. Is it necessary to mention that I don't remember her as a nice person in particular?
"Well, well." Darcy is the first to speak after what seems to me like an eternity of agonising embarrassment. "The girl who causes problems has now officially arrived at Pemberley."
That's when I start praying. I didn't expect Darcy to know the nickname my family gave me, and now all servants of Pemberley know it as well. But unfortunately, God doesn't answer my prayer to open up the earth under my feet and let it swallow me, so I guess I'll have to endure it.
Lady de Bourgh still hasn't moved, nor did she say anything. I've heard from various sources that she has become a quiet and apathetic woman since her daughter died of her sickness some time ago, but I think the true reason for her silence is that she just doesn't see any point in lecturing me – in her eyes, I'm a hopeless case anyway. But at least Elizabeth seems to slowly regain consciousness. She doesn't look too bad, but there's a small cut on her forehead that has started bleeding.
"Oh Lizzie, I'm so sorry!" I apologise. "Hold on..."
I get on my knees, well aware of, but not caring about the rain-soaked grass soiling my dress, and use the scarf, which was actually meant to serve a different purpose, to tape up her wound.
"I'm sorry, so sorry!" I repeat countless times, and the servants seem to be just as worried – although I swear one of them has a rather amused grin on his face –, but Elizabeth shoos them away, saying she's okay, and gets up with the aid of Darcy.
I don't even dare to touch her anymore, fearing that I might accidentally step on her foot while trying to approach her, scratch her eyes out with my fingernails, or break her nose just by giving it a wry look.
"It's okay, Kitty, it could have been worse," she assures me. "But from now on I will only travel with you by my side. If our carriage ever happens to be attacked, your suitcases make for some really dangerous missiles."
Finally, the servants can laugh again. They're all laughing now, everyone but me and Lady de Bourgh, whose first name, by the way, is the same as mine: Catherine. But that's where the list of our similarities ends. I wonder what she's doing here. She is not exactly Elizabeth's friend either.
After receiving new, dry clothes and being exposed to my flood of apologies for half an hour, the carter gets back on his carriage and leaves, refusing Darcy's offer to stay for dinner. I prefer not to ask why, and so it's just me, my sister, her husband and his aunt, Lady de Bourgh.
Since Elizabeth was expecting me to arrive later, she told her cooks not to prepare dinner till late in the evening, which is probably why she was so surprised to see me that much earlier, and now we have to wait. My first assumption was wrong, it's not because of me, I try to tell myself. Yes, my early arrival might have messed up the schedule, but that's it. She isn't actually unhappy about seeing me earlier. Or at least she wasn't until she got mistreated by my suitcase. Or until I almost smashed an expensive-looking Ming vase on the way to the dining room when the food was finally ready.
"Say, Lizzie," I whisper at the dining table when Darcy and Lady de Bourgh are deep in their own conversation. "You won't write a letter to our family, telling them that I knocked you out and then almost ruined your furnishing within five minutes of being here, will you?"
"Of course not! But you've always been a little prone to accidents, we're used to it, so I don't think anyone at home would make a fuss about it."
"Yes, but I'm afraid that someone else might... Your husband and his aunt have never been particularly fond of our family." I glimpse at the two on the other side of the table. "And I have a bad feeling that I'm not helping it at the moment."
"Oh, you're worrying too much! My husband didn't have any objections against you coming here." I notice that Elizabeth sounds slightly uncomfortable saying that, but then she continues in a soothing voice: "And Lady de Bourgh decided to visit even though she knew there would be more than just one Bennet sister. So stop thinking you're the root of all evil. There are more urgent matters at hand right now than your clumsiness."
"And what are those matters, if I don't mind my asking?"
I don't get the chance to find out if she minds or not because we're interrupted by Lady de Bourgh. I know from my short previous experiences with Her Ladyship that she doesn't consider it impolite to interrupt other people's conversations as long as she's the one doing it, and some things just never change.
"Elizabeth, my dear..." Did she really just say my dear to my sister? "The last time I came here, we talked about family planning. Any news on that?"
And there it is again: the rudeness. Apparently Lady Catherine's silence and lack of discrimination upon my arrival was nothing but a façade, and now she's beginning to let her true colours show again. Seriously, family planning is something between husband and wife! If she turns to me next and asks me when I'm finally going to get married, I swear the next time a solid object flies through the room into someone's face will not be an accident.
But first it's my sister's turn to answer an inappropriate question.
"Well..." She hesitates, her gaze meets Darcy's for a split second before returning to Lady de Bourgh. It's not like her to be at a loss for words. "We're not sure yet. There is a lot going on at the moment..."
"You're not working, are you?" Lady de Bourgh assumes. "Then what makes you say that? You're still young, Elizabeth. You should use the time you have to give birth to as many children as you can. Believe me, family is the most important thing in life. Sooner or later you'll understand."
This time I'm the one who is dumbfounded. Family is the most important thing in life? I thought Her Ladyship was more interested in her social reputation. But maybe the loss of her daughter has changed some of her views.
Elizabeth just nods, acknowledging the advice, obviously not so keen on pushing the topic any further. I wonder if that's what she meant by "more urgent matters".
"You know," Darcy then says to his aunt, "my wife is still a bookworm. I rarely see her without a book, because whenever she's not reading one, she goes to the theatre or finds other ways to educate herself. She doesn't even have time for a child."
"And my husband still doesn't like little children. He thinks they cry too much and get dirty all the time," Elizabeth adds, speaking to Lady de Bourgh, but looking at Darcy and giving him an amused yet somewhat cheeky smile when she continues. "One might get the impression that he skipped his own childhood and came to this world as the adult man he is now."
Elizabeth and Darcy still use every opportunity to tease each other in a playful way. It has been this way since before they got married.
"I see you still haven't moved on from your old prejudices," Darcy retorts. "The time when I didn't like children has long passed. But I would rather not bring mine into the world just to have them starve to death waiting to be fed because their mother has once again forgotten the world thanks to some exciting book."
That was kind of mean... But at least he is smiling, and so is Elizabeth.
"It wouldn't be a problem if the mother could rely on the father's support whenever she herself is busy with other matters."
"But if those other matters such as books and other inanimate objects become more important than children, a couple should reconsider their priorities before having them."
Well, Darcy must be joking. He prefers intelligent women to those who are after enjoyment only, which is why he has always valued my sister's love of books. There is only so much a woman can do to educate herself these days.
"I suggest we change the subject," Elizabeth says, now looking at Lady de Bourgh, her smile still there, but not quite as honest anymore.
"I see this is going nowhere. So you're probably right." Lady de Bourgh turns her gaze in my direction. I quickly shove some food in my mouth so I have an excuse for not speaking at once, just in case she asks me something I have to think about before answering.
"Kitty!" she says, surprising me once again because I wouldn't have expected her to use my nickname. On second thought, however, I can imagine two reasons for that: Either she's too proud to acknowledge that a clumsy, unworthy girl like me has the same first name as Her Ladyship, or she simply doesn't know my real name because she has never bothered to ask for it while Elizabeth and Darcy keep calling me their own names they made up for me.
Now that I think of it, if she was a little less intelligent, she might even assume "The girl who causes problems" to be my second name.
"What are your hobbies?" she demands. "Do you enjoy reading like your sister?"
"Not so much," I admit.
She raises an eyebrow as if my answer was impolite or absolutely impossible, but doesn't dismiss me just yet. What a pity. "What about the theatre, or the opera?"
"There's no such thing where I live."
"Are you gifted in music?"
"No."
"Do you play cards, chess, or any other games?"
"No," I say again, starting to feel insecure.
"What about horse-riding?"
I chuckle without humour. "Haven't you seen what happens when I get too close to a horse?"
"Then you must enjoy helping your servants with the housework," Lady de Bourgh concludes. "I take it you're good at cooking and cleaning and washing, that kind of thing."
Too embarrassed to speak any more, I just shake my head.
"But if you don't have any hobbies and don't do anything for the household either, how exactly do you spend your free time? It must be rather boring."
"Well, I..." I begin, but then stop because I don't know what to say.
Finally, Elizabeth steps in to save me. "Kitty is still trying to find her purpose in life."
But Her Ladyship's piercing glance rests on me and she keeps on asking questions. "How old are you?"
All I can do is sigh, and she immediately goes on: "You cannot be older than twenty, there's no need to be ashamed."
"I'm not yet twenty-one."
She frowns, her gaze quickly flashing back and forth between me and my sister who is smiling again. What's that? Does she think I'm lying? It's not a lie. My birthday is in October, whereas now it's only mid-September, and as long as I'm still officially twenty years old, I am going to enjoy my youth and every minute of it and not make myself even one day older.
Besides, I think it's quite embarrassing for a woman at my age to not have found her "purpose in life", or a husband at least. I guess Elizabeth and Jane were in a similar situation three years ago, but at least they had their superior intellect and stunning beauty, respectively. What about me, what do I have? Troubles with myself. And Lady de Bourgh only just confirmed that others take them just as seriously as I do. I hate to admit it, but she's perfectly right.
After that shameful cross-examination, I can't wait for dinner time to be over. Lady de Bourgh doesn't ask me any more questions, but her presence alone, coupled with her knowledge of my uselessness, is enough to make me feel uncomfortable. Why is she here anyway? I still don't get it, and apparently no one cares to explain.
My mood turns from uncomfortable to downright miserable by the time I'm finally allowed to go to sleep. After saying "Good night" to everyone, I retreat to my room, where Elizabeth's servants have taken my belongings. It's a neat, spacious bedroom with a perfect view on the lake that is now beautifully reflecting the pale moonlight, but looking at it only reminds me of how I treated the carter to an involuntary swim in exchange for him taking me all the way to Pemberley. No, looking at the lake is definitely not the best idea at the moment.
But I'm not even tired yet. I suppose it's because I slept a lot on the journey. And so I decide to take my sewing kit – one of my suitcases is filled with nothing but needles, pieces of cloth and patterns I drew one long, boring afternoon at home – and start with the blouse I've been having in mind for the last few days.