Tuesday, 27 April 1813
Tonight was a night of beauty, of confusion and of so much more, but those words could hardly do it justice. I feel like a silly schoolgirl, or like Lydia, but after what happened tonight, how could I not? Allow me to recount tonight's events...
It was well past midnight when I realised that sleep would not come to me. Was it distress from an earlier event or was it guilt for treating the Colonel so poorly? Perhaps it was distress over what I had become? I'd snubbed the Colonel quite a good deal of the week and paid him little heed, although I had expected him to start paying attention to Mary again. However, he was not, and I began to wonder if I had made a mistake in assuming where his affections lie.
Despite my snubbing, he had always been kind to me. He complimented me on my drawings and offered to sit for me in various poses for me to sketch. He continued to defend me from Lydia and after almost a fortnight, he had gotten my family into the habit of calling me various names other than 'Kitty', with the exception of Mama and Lydia. To Jane and Mary, I was Cathy; to Papa, I was Catherine. But just to the Colonel, I was Caty, and I believed that of all the names my family had for me, Caty was my favourite. Mama insisted on continuing to call me 'Kitty' due to the fact that it had been her pet name for me ever since birth, so I had no objections, but Lydia called me Kitty out of spite. Whenever the Colonel heard her address me as so, he would always say something that contains the words, 'Miss Caty' to remind Lydia that she had no control over me, and every time, it made me flush.
I had stopped wearing colourful frocks and gave them all to Lydia; instead, I began to wear the dresses that Mary had given me the previous year when she grew out of hers. They weren't as dark as the ones she had been wearing recently; they were more like Elizabeth's, with earthly tones and such. Some were brown, some were green, others were blue or red or even violet. My favourite was a blue dress and I wore it as often as I could. It was a dark navy blue, almost, and along the waist was white ribbon and flowers embroidered in between that I had asked Jane to do; around the neckline was a transparent white collar that closed up the neckline of the dress a bit. I started to wear my hair differently and it pleased me very much to hear Jane tell Papa, as I had passed the library one day earlier this week, how much I had changed, and for the better. "She's growing up," Papa remarked, "and it's about time, too."
Getting back to the night that I lie awake, I had been trying hard not to cry myself to sleep. Only hours before, Lydia and I had gotten into an argument very different from any argument we had ever had before in the past. It started when I was sitting in the windowsill sketching the night sky when Lydia entered the room, standing in the doorway with both hands on either side. "May we talk, Kitty?" she asked me, startling me from my sketching. Turning to her, I nodded and set down my sketchbook. She closed the door behind her as she entered the room, then stopped at the centre of it.
"Is something wrong, Lydia?" I asked her as she stood there. Her facial expression read signs of distress and it looked as if she were struggling to think of what to say. "Lydia?"
"We can no longer be friends as we used to be," she said suddenly, taking me aback.
"What? Lydia, whatever could you possibly mean?" I asked her, wondering if this was yet another attempt at being dramatic. Truly, she could play a much better Lady Macbeth than Miss Sarah Siddons, and that was meaningful; I had seen Miss Siddons when visiting my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner a couple of years ago in a production of Mr. William Shakespeare's Macbeth, and she was quite phenomenal, but Lydia had her beat as far as acting talents went. However, I had grown up with Lydia and knew when she was acting and when she was not.
"You are not Lizzy!" she cried. "Ever since Lizzy left and married, you have slowly been turning into her! How you dress and how you act, even Jane is starting to turn to you in confidence! And the Colonel is clearly in love with you-"
"In love with me? Lydia, don't be silly!" I interrupted.
"See? That is exactly what Lizzy would say! You have turned into her, but you are not her! You were never as graceful as Jane nor as earthbound as Lizzy nor as accomplished as Mary nor as pretty as me, so you have been trying your hardest to become like one of us! You have no trait, so you steal it from everyone else!"
"That isn't true!" I cried, standing up and facing her. "I am not trying to be Lizzy. I know I am not as elegant as Jane nor as earthbound as Lizzy nor as accomplished as Mary nor as pretty as you, but at least I'm not as trusting as Jane nor as stubborn as Lizzy nor have expectations as high as Mary nor as silly and frivolous and absolutely ridiculous as you!" I spat back, utterly fed up with her nonsense. "And as for the Colonel, he is not in love with me nor I with him. He is in love with Mary, and he has told me so himself. He and I are merely friends and that is all we ever will be. Not every friendship between a man and a girl is romantic."
"I don't like the Colonel. He is too bold and boisterous and obnoxious and stupid and above all, hideous for any member of this family, even for you. Even for Mary, she deserves way better than him and can easily do better than him. He is the kind of man that spinsters marry because he is so old and he is only toying with your heart for sport," Lydia replied.
"You don't like the Colonel because he is the only one outside of this family to openly put you in your place. Perhaps I am partially acting the part of Lizzy because Papa is too tired and too used to your foolish frivolity, Mama encourages it, Jane is too shy and Mary doesn't care enough to do it, so somebody has to do it and it might as well be me! You've caused me enough distress over the years, forcing me into your shadow. I allowed you, a foolish, childish thing, to walk all over me for far too long!" At this, she silenced, then after a moment, began to sniffle. "Oh, don't start! I'm tired of it! Tired of your fake tears and your acting and your annoying flirty ways. I've never had a man hold an interest in me because of you and I have never found a true friend because of you!"
"How could you be so cruel, Kitty?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Not cruel, Lydia, exhausted. Tired of having to put up with being your shadow for so long, but I'll do it no longer," I replied. " And I'll thank you not to refer to me as such again. Cat, Caty, Cathy, Cate or even Catherine will do just fine." She stared at me a moment longer, sniffling and allowing tears to begin to fall down her cheeks. She then turned on her heel and ran out of the room.
"Mama! Mama! Kitty is being mean to me!" she cried as she ran down the hallway. Once I was alone, I threw myself on my bed stomach-down and screamed into my pillow, beating the mattress with my fists and my feet. Goodness, how I hated Lydia at that very moment! Of course, a few hours later, I was all right with sharing a room with her and she was back to gossiping about news of Meryton and talking senselessly about her 'dear Mr. Wickham'. Gosh, it made me sick, her senseless prattling about a man she had only just met a short while ago. She still barely knew him, whether she admitted it or not, because I knew her, and she wouldn't dare take the time to get to know his character.
I didn't sleep that night, as the entire argument kept me awake. Had I truly turned into Lizzy? Had I gone from being a shadow to the frivolous and flirtatious Lydia to being a shadow of the bold and strong Lizzy? Was that all I was? A shadow? At half past one, I got up and wrapped myself in a shawl and slid my slippers onto my feet. I lit a candle and stopped to admire my reflection in the mirror of our vanity. With my hair braided to the side, I sort of did look almost like a shadow to Lizzy. My hair was the same shade of dark brown, my face was small and rounded, my nose upturned, my lips thin and unflattering, my eyes a bright shade of blue, much like Jane's, and I was lightly built. I wasn't very tall, but I wasn't stout either; I couldn't have been much shorter than the Colonel himself. I let out a sigh at my appearance, wondering why I had bothered to look; it only added to my sadness. I padded lightly out of mine and Lydia's childhood bedroom and quietly down the stairs, hoping not to awaken anyone. I found myself stopping halfway down, as I could see a light emanating from the drawing room. Approaching slowly, I descended the stairs and appeared slowly in the doorway of the drawing room, peering in to see its occupant; it was the Colonel. He sat in the same chair he always sat in opposite of the entrance to the drawing room reading a thick volume, although he was near its end. I decided to return to my bed, but a squeaky floorboard betrayed my presence; he looked up.
"Good evening, Miss Caty. Did I wake you?" he said, lowering his volume into his lap.
"No, I... I couldn't sleep," I replied. "Do forgive me for my appearance, I had no idea that you would be-"
"No worries, Miss Caty. You are a permanent occupant of this house and I the intruder," he replied.
"No, you're not intruding... Am I?"
"Are you what?"
"Intruding. On your thoughts or your volume or..."
"No. No, I was merely reading. I couldn't sleep myself. Am I intruding on yours? You appear rather melancholy."
"Oh... No, not at all. I came down here, I suppose, for the same reason as yourself. But we have another parlour and I may entertain myself there so as not to intrude on your solitude. Good evening, Colonel." I gave him a curtsy and began to turn.
"Please, by all means, share my solitude. Join me, if you will, Miss Caty. Perhaps we can assist each other with our melancholy thoughts." I turned to face him, then nodded and took a seat on the end of the settee that was farthest from him. "Are you well, Miss Caty?"
"Of course. I can't complain of any ailments."
"I meant your thoughts, madam. You appear to be haunted by something reoccurring that does not wish to depart your mind."
"P-perhaps a little, but I believe we all are haunted by at least one."
"Yes, perhaps we are." He sat there for a moment, silently staring at the floor with his chin in his hand. "I heard an argument upstairs, and Miss Lydia calling for your mother. I thought I heard her shouting something of you. I don't mean to intrude-"
"It's fine, really-"
"-but you appear to be in great distress, and if it would clear your conscience to confide in me, then I would be happy to be your confidant. If not, I can understand." I looked at him silently for a moment before nodding calmly.
"What is my purpose, Colonel? Who am I?"
"Who are you?" He chuckled lightly. "Madam, you are Miss Catherine Bennet, the prettiest of all the Bennet girls and-"
"I mean what is my character, sir. I cannot think of a single defining trait that I possess. All my life, I shadowed Lydia because it was all I could think of doing, I thought I would grow out of it and find myself, but I never did. And only today, Lydia accused me of shadowing Lizzy. I don't want to be any of my sisters, Colonel. I don't want to be as elegant and as poised as Jane or as bold and outspoken as Lizzy or as talented and accomplished as Mary or as frivolous and silly as Lydia, I want to be someone of my own! Colonel, if you know, please tell me who I am!" I cried out in desperation, then buried my face in my palms and began to cry. "Forgive me, please..." I got up and started to exit quickly, but I was stopped when the Colonel crossed the room in two strides and stopped me, taking me into his arms and gently rubbing my shoulders.
"Hush, now, Miss Caty, and please don't cry. I can't stand to see a lady cry because I never know what words to give of comfort," he whispered to me gently.
"I am no lady, so please let me go!" I cried, although I made no effort to remove myself from his arms.
"Shhh... Allow me to answer your questions, Miss Caty."
"Oh, please don't! I'm humiliated and ruined in your eyes! I've figured it out anyhow, I'm the forgotten Bennet sister. That is who I am."
"Your image is not even tainted in my eyes, Miss Caty," he told me, pulling away slightly to glance down at me. He was perhaps three or four inches taller than me and I discovered him not to be very athletically built, but it made it easier to hold onto him. "You are still so young; of course you haven't found yourself yet, and no one has bothered to show you, so allow me. You are not the forgotten Bennet sister and you are no shadow of your sisters, not Miss Bennet, not Mrs. Darcy, not Miss Mary and certainly not Miss Lydia. You might not even realise it and your sisters might all be blind to it, but you are entirely your own girl - excuse me, woman - and are no shadow of any of your sisters. You might be somewhat silly at times, but it is the good kind of silly. You have a kind heart and a brilliant mind and of all women I have ever met, you are the most accomplished artist. For as long as I have known you, and that is nearly a fortnight now, I have studied your character and found it to be one most unlike any that I have ever seen."
"L-Lydia had not... Not the nicest things to say about you..."
"And I couldn't care more. Hideous is a word I'm used to hearing when being described by young ladies, was that one of them?" I took a moment before nodding in reply. "I never cared for the opinions of young flirtatious things who are interested only in my title. Unfortunately, those are the only women I have ever happened to become acquainted with." We stood there in silence for what felt like hours, but was a mere minute or so. "Miss Caty, I feel that now is the right time to tell you..." He separated from me and took my hand in his. "I have felt myself-"
The sound of a loud clap of thunder that had followed a bright flash in the sky startled us both and caused us to tighten our grips on each other, my arms throwing themselves around the Colonel's midsection and my face burying itself into his chest while his arms wrapped tightly around my body and pulled me closer towards him and away from the window. After the thunder subsided, I emerged from the Colonel's chest and met his eyes, and he smiled warmly at me. "It is only a storm, Caty, dear."
"Oh," I said with a gentle smile, and I giggled quietly. "A very loud storm."
"A very loud storm, indeed," replied the Colonel, and he glanced at the clock across the room. "It's very late, Miss Caty." His gaze returned to mine. "Perhaps you ought to get some rest."
"What about you?" I asked him.
"I'm very accustomed to sleepless nights," he replied, then he let go of me and took a step back. "Goodnight, Miss Caty." I nodded, my expression having fallen at his mention of the time.
"Goodnight, Colonel," I replied with a curtsy, which he returned with a bow.
"I shall see you tomorrow, or rather later this morning when the sun has risen," he said with a smile; I, too, smiled and turned on my heel, giving one final glance at the cat upon the pianoforte - which hadn't moved, as if it had not witnessed the rather inappropriate scene between the Colonel and I - before I climbed the stairs to mine and Lydia's bedroom.
I reflect now back on what the Colonel had said to me in the drawing room. What were his unfinished thoughts that had been interrupted by the storm? His unfinished thoughts will haunt me for the rest of tonight, I am certain of it. Was he going to declare feelings for me? Was he planning on proposing to me? I've barely known him a fortnight, what is it that he could possibly declare after barely a fortnight? Oh, Colonel, I shall never sleep tonight because of you, but I believe I am starting to enjoy such sleepless nights. I'll never know what came over me in the drawing room tonight, to open up to him like that... I'm still so embarrassed. How does he not think poorly of me? Perhaps Lydia is right...
Yours,
Cat-(scratched) Kitty Bennet