CHAPTER SEVEN
As soon as Mr Wakefield left, Louisa and I linked arms and walked back towards the grove. "I know you like Sir Thomas, Kitty," she whispered, "but have you realised Mr Wakefield likes you – very much indeed?"
I burst out laughing. "Oh, Louisa, what a funny thing to say!"
She raised her eyebrows. "Why? I think it's obvious! He is always looking at you and being especially caring about you and . . . lots more things!"
"Of course he doesn't like me in the way you are suggesting! He hasn't once flirted with me or said anything to suggest anything of the kind. He's just a very nice man with no intention of the kind!" I laughed again. "What a ludicrous suggestion! I promise you he will never have thought twice about me!"
"Kitty, do you really think Mr Wakefield is the type to flirt, or chase you?"
"Well, I suppose not," I admitted, "but I am sure you are wrong! He is kind to everyone. How could such a thing be true? I beg you will stop talking about it before I split my side laughing!"
"Very well," she said. "I must say you are a simpleton, though."
I rolled my eyes, changed the subject and walked faster. Really, Louisa is admirable sometimes! The things she comes up with! I said before that she has an imagination and I am beginning to think it exceedingly overactive!
Wednesday April 22
Poor Lizzy is feeling very unwell today, and Mr Darcy, who was very worried, sent me into town to procure some restorative things for her, and to ask the doctor to come and visit. I am persuaded that it isn't a very threatening situation, but still it is worrying when a pregnant woman is sick; there is no telling what could happen. So unfortunately when I saw Sir Thomas in the village I was not able to speak to him for long; I had to buy the things, and then see the doctor, and I didn't want to waste time. Therefore I only managed a "how do you do?" and a quick explanation before I rushed off. The doctor took the restoratives with him, leaving me with time to talk to Sir Thomas, but by that time he had left the village. It puts such a damper on one's spirits when one misses out on things like that – especially when one is already worried about one's sister! But I met Louisa, and she has agreed to come and visit tomorrow. We are going to do Romeo and Juliet, and she said I can be Juliet, because she likes doing male voices! It will be such fun.
And then I met Mr Beaupays, who I haven't seen for some time except for church, and he was very kind. He came over and complimented me on my pelisse, the silly man, and was most flirtatious. I should have been happy to oblige him had I not already been in love with Sir Thomas. But as the situation stood, I was very civil, and excessively nice, but not flirtatious. I know what is proper, and I have sworn not to ever come close to doing what that horrible Lord Gosford did.
I saw Mr Wakefield too, and he paused to speak to me, but hurried off soon after. There was nothing in his manner that was flirtatious at all, and even though I looked closely, I could discern no signs of wanting to fix his interest with me. Louisa had obviously been mistaken. She must have thought his general kindness to me meant he was in love, but it is not so. He has never so much as cast a handsome compliment my way, nor has he looked at me above the ordinary. But then . . . that is not his style, is it? And I have detected a slight consciousness in his behaviour sometimes. I know he likes me, for he looks at me with such a warm eye. But he cannot love me, can he? For he never singles me out obviously or flirts or anything of the kind, as I have explained before. And he did pick me up ever so gently when he saved me from the lake several days ago. It intrigues me, really, for so far in Derbyshire I have been accustomed to the single men flirting outrageously with me, with the exception of Mr Winter, who is already taken.
Oh diary, now I remember that dinner party. I just flicked back to look at my entry that time, and I wrote that I could tell he was thinking about me. And it was true. He was. And he still does that. Like the time Sir Thomas came in and he decided to leave at once, almost embarrassed, as if he had been caught.
I wonder, but it is all conjecture. However, I cannot deny he intrigues me immensely, although my immediate reaction is to scoff away any idea that he likes me above the ordinary.
Anyhow, I am in love with Sir Thomas, am I not?
Thursday April 23
Oh, diary, something so exciting and wonderful happened today! Guess! Well, you'll never guess, so I'll tell you:
Louisa and I went to our grove again and we continued on with Romeo and Juliet, and we got to my favourite part, Act II Scene II. I was Juliet and Louisa was everything else, in this case, Romeo, because she thinks it's amusing to do male voices. I stood up on our stage, and she sat below, and I cried out in great fervour my part.
"O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name: Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet."
Louisa said in an aside in her hilarious man-voice which almost caused me to succumb to laughter, "Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"
I continued. "'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; thou art thyself though, not a Montague. What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O! be some other name: What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name; And for that name, which is no part of thee, take all myself."
To both mine and Louisa's intense surprise, a voice came from the forest! "I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd; henceforth I never will be Romeo."
We stared, our mouths wide open as Sir Thomas strode in, smiling. We were completely silent for what seemed like an age before he burst into laughter. "I'm sorry, Miss Bennet, Miss Tait, but I couldn't resist. Have you formed a dramatic club?"
Louisa stared still, but I started to smile. "You wretch," I said. "How dare you invade our hallowed hall?"
He grinned at me. "A dramatic club! By Jove, that's amusing!" He burst into laughter again, and I admit I probably would have been quite annoyed at the way he treated it as such a joke if he had not just pretended to be Romeo while I was Juliet!!!!
We walked back to Pemberley all together, and he stayed for dinner, as did Louisa. I think she was a little annoyed at the way he teased us constantly on the walk back, and dropped subtle hints of it all evening, as we had made him promise not to reveal it to anyone, and she was very quiet all evening when in our company, but I am sure she is just tired.
Saturday April 25
Oh dear. I almost cannot make myself believe what happened today. I am very unhappy. I'm not sure what is wrong with me, really, but . . . you will see.
I was going for a walk through the woods – this time not with Fella, and now I almost wish I had been – and I met Sir Thomas, and of course was very happy with this situation, and I knew that this would be a perfect time for him to propose and so was very excited. We started to walk along together.
Well, he started to tease me almost straight away about the Romeo and Juliet incident, and this served to annoy me a little and regret that we were not already married so I could give him a good set-down. But with the delicate state of affairs, I felt it would not be wise to do so, in case he decided not to propose after all.
Then he stopped suddenly when we reached the stream, and he turned to face me and took my hands, and my heart stopped and my brain started screaming, 'This is it, you idiot!' at me, and I thought he was going to say something, and my mind screamed, 'Propose!' but he just stared at me, and then. He positively attacked me with kisses.
The strangest thing is that I was repulsed. All at once his age hit me, and I started to think, 'He is old enough to be my father!', and I felt no attraction to him whatsoever, and his kisses scared me, and I pushed him off me. He, unprepared for this, fell to the ground and jumped up again, a little red-faced and dishevelled. "Kindly keep your hands off me, sir!" I heard myself saying. Why, why, why, I don't know. As Kitty Bennet I must have accepted any kiss of any presentable man. I think I must be a Catherine now, even if I am still called Kitty. Because I hated every second that his lips were on mine, and as soon as I got back to Pemberley I scrubbed them furiously.
But he stared at me, and he exclaimed, "What on earth?!"
"I said," I repeated, "kindly keep your hands off me!"
"Kitty," he said weakly, "what is the matter? I love you! I need a wife!"
I stared at him. "I don't think you do love me," I said. "You said it yourself, you need a wife! I, for one, do not want to marry you."
"Kitty," he said.
But I interrupted him. "You should call me Miss Bennet, sir."
"Miss Bennet," he said weakly, "you encouraged me to suppose that you desired my attentions!"
"I admit at times I did," I said, reddening. "But sir, I don't want to marry you anymore."
"I cannot believe it," he said firmly.
"Try," I said.
He lunged at me again, and kissed me, and this time I struggled immediately and pushed him away. I was red and angry and my bonnet had fallen off. "How dare you, sir?!" I cried. "If you touch me again, I'll –"
He was looking shocked. "I'm sorry, Miss Bennet, I don't know what came over me... I suppose I'm just disappointed. – Oh, Miss Bennet, but think of the children!"
"Children?" I asked, completely befuddled.
"All the children we could have!"
I nearly burst out laughing. "You think I want to have children?"
"You don't want them?"
"No!" Now I suddenly felt terrible. After all, I had encouraged his attentions and it was all my fault. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I cannot marry you." I ran away, and he stormed off, and the worst of it is that as I just ran behind a bush and out of Sir Thomas' sight, I ran straight into Mr Wakefield. We both went red and I froze.
"I'm sorry, Miss Bennet," he said. "I couldn't help but hear. I was just walking through the forest and happened to pass by here."
The poor man was evidently very uncomfortable and ashamed of being the eavesdropper, even though he had obviously been an unwilling one.
"It's . . . it's fine," I whispered. I couldn't look him in the eye without turning even redder. "I suppose that was very improper."
He raised his eyebrows as I looked beseechingly up at him. "You did not seem at all improper to me," he said. "In fact, you behaved very well."
I tried to smile, but found it was beyond me. "I hope so," I murmured.
"Miss Bennet, there was nothing you could have done about it except what you did do, and you did well. I promise you."
I looked up at him again, and he had the kindest expression on his face; his eyes are such a velvety, sincere brown. He is surely one of the nicest men I have ever met. "Thank you," I said. "That makes me feel a lot better." And it did.
He smiled, touched his hat, and was gone. I ran back to Pemberley. He had helped me but he had not cured me completely, and I sat on my bed the whole evening sobbing at my own stupidity in imagining myself in love with one man when really I am in love with Mr Beaupays. How can I be so blind? I will hunt him out tomorrow at church.
As soon as Mr Wakefield left, Louisa and I linked arms and walked back towards the grove. "I know you like Sir Thomas, Kitty," she whispered, "but have you realised Mr Wakefield likes you – very much indeed?"
I burst out laughing. "Oh, Louisa, what a funny thing to say!"
She raised her eyebrows. "Why? I think it's obvious! He is always looking at you and being especially caring about you and . . . lots more things!"
"Of course he doesn't like me in the way you are suggesting! He hasn't once flirted with me or said anything to suggest anything of the kind. He's just a very nice man with no intention of the kind!" I laughed again. "What a ludicrous suggestion! I promise you he will never have thought twice about me!"
"Kitty, do you really think Mr Wakefield is the type to flirt, or chase you?"
"Well, I suppose not," I admitted, "but I am sure you are wrong! He is kind to everyone. How could such a thing be true? I beg you will stop talking about it before I split my side laughing!"
"Very well," she said. "I must say you are a simpleton, though."
I rolled my eyes, changed the subject and walked faster. Really, Louisa is admirable sometimes! The things she comes up with! I said before that she has an imagination and I am beginning to think it exceedingly overactive!
Wednesday April 22
Poor Lizzy is feeling very unwell today, and Mr Darcy, who was very worried, sent me into town to procure some restorative things for her, and to ask the doctor to come and visit. I am persuaded that it isn't a very threatening situation, but still it is worrying when a pregnant woman is sick; there is no telling what could happen. So unfortunately when I saw Sir Thomas in the village I was not able to speak to him for long; I had to buy the things, and then see the doctor, and I didn't want to waste time. Therefore I only managed a "how do you do?" and a quick explanation before I rushed off. The doctor took the restoratives with him, leaving me with time to talk to Sir Thomas, but by that time he had left the village. It puts such a damper on one's spirits when one misses out on things like that – especially when one is already worried about one's sister! But I met Louisa, and she has agreed to come and visit tomorrow. We are going to do Romeo and Juliet, and she said I can be Juliet, because she likes doing male voices! It will be such fun.
And then I met Mr Beaupays, who I haven't seen for some time except for church, and he was very kind. He came over and complimented me on my pelisse, the silly man, and was most flirtatious. I should have been happy to oblige him had I not already been in love with Sir Thomas. But as the situation stood, I was very civil, and excessively nice, but not flirtatious. I know what is proper, and I have sworn not to ever come close to doing what that horrible Lord Gosford did.
I saw Mr Wakefield too, and he paused to speak to me, but hurried off soon after. There was nothing in his manner that was flirtatious at all, and even though I looked closely, I could discern no signs of wanting to fix his interest with me. Louisa had obviously been mistaken. She must have thought his general kindness to me meant he was in love, but it is not so. He has never so much as cast a handsome compliment my way, nor has he looked at me above the ordinary. But then . . . that is not his style, is it? And I have detected a slight consciousness in his behaviour sometimes. I know he likes me, for he looks at me with such a warm eye. But he cannot love me, can he? For he never singles me out obviously or flirts or anything of the kind, as I have explained before. And he did pick me up ever so gently when he saved me from the lake several days ago. It intrigues me, really, for so far in Derbyshire I have been accustomed to the single men flirting outrageously with me, with the exception of Mr Winter, who is already taken.
Oh diary, now I remember that dinner party. I just flicked back to look at my entry that time, and I wrote that I could tell he was thinking about me. And it was true. He was. And he still does that. Like the time Sir Thomas came in and he decided to leave at once, almost embarrassed, as if he had been caught.
I wonder, but it is all conjecture. However, I cannot deny he intrigues me immensely, although my immediate reaction is to scoff away any idea that he likes me above the ordinary.
Anyhow, I am in love with Sir Thomas, am I not?
Thursday April 23
Oh, diary, something so exciting and wonderful happened today! Guess! Well, you'll never guess, so I'll tell you:
Louisa and I went to our grove again and we continued on with Romeo and Juliet, and we got to my favourite part, Act II Scene II. I was Juliet and Louisa was everything else, in this case, Romeo, because she thinks it's amusing to do male voices. I stood up on our stage, and she sat below, and I cried out in great fervour my part.
"O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name: Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet."
Louisa said in an aside in her hilarious man-voice which almost caused me to succumb to laughter, "Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"
I continued. "'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; thou art thyself though, not a Montague. What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O! be some other name: What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name; And for that name, which is no part of thee, take all myself."
To both mine and Louisa's intense surprise, a voice came from the forest! "I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd; henceforth I never will be Romeo."
We stared, our mouths wide open as Sir Thomas strode in, smiling. We were completely silent for what seemed like an age before he burst into laughter. "I'm sorry, Miss Bennet, Miss Tait, but I couldn't resist. Have you formed a dramatic club?"
Louisa stared still, but I started to smile. "You wretch," I said. "How dare you invade our hallowed hall?"
He grinned at me. "A dramatic club! By Jove, that's amusing!" He burst into laughter again, and I admit I probably would have been quite annoyed at the way he treated it as such a joke if he had not just pretended to be Romeo while I was Juliet!!!!
We walked back to Pemberley all together, and he stayed for dinner, as did Louisa. I think she was a little annoyed at the way he teased us constantly on the walk back, and dropped subtle hints of it all evening, as we had made him promise not to reveal it to anyone, and she was very quiet all evening when in our company, but I am sure she is just tired.
Saturday April 25
Oh dear. I almost cannot make myself believe what happened today. I am very unhappy. I'm not sure what is wrong with me, really, but . . . you will see.
I was going for a walk through the woods – this time not with Fella, and now I almost wish I had been – and I met Sir Thomas, and of course was very happy with this situation, and I knew that this would be a perfect time for him to propose and so was very excited. We started to walk along together.
Well, he started to tease me almost straight away about the Romeo and Juliet incident, and this served to annoy me a little and regret that we were not already married so I could give him a good set-down. But with the delicate state of affairs, I felt it would not be wise to do so, in case he decided not to propose after all.
Then he stopped suddenly when we reached the stream, and he turned to face me and took my hands, and my heart stopped and my brain started screaming, 'This is it, you idiot!' at me, and I thought he was going to say something, and my mind screamed, 'Propose!' but he just stared at me, and then. He positively attacked me with kisses.
The strangest thing is that I was repulsed. All at once his age hit me, and I started to think, 'He is old enough to be my father!', and I felt no attraction to him whatsoever, and his kisses scared me, and I pushed him off me. He, unprepared for this, fell to the ground and jumped up again, a little red-faced and dishevelled. "Kindly keep your hands off me, sir!" I heard myself saying. Why, why, why, I don't know. As Kitty Bennet I must have accepted any kiss of any presentable man. I think I must be a Catherine now, even if I am still called Kitty. Because I hated every second that his lips were on mine, and as soon as I got back to Pemberley I scrubbed them furiously.
But he stared at me, and he exclaimed, "What on earth?!"
"I said," I repeated, "kindly keep your hands off me!"
"Kitty," he said weakly, "what is the matter? I love you! I need a wife!"
I stared at him. "I don't think you do love me," I said. "You said it yourself, you need a wife! I, for one, do not want to marry you."
"Kitty," he said.
But I interrupted him. "You should call me Miss Bennet, sir."
"Miss Bennet," he said weakly, "you encouraged me to suppose that you desired my attentions!"
"I admit at times I did," I said, reddening. "But sir, I don't want to marry you anymore."
"I cannot believe it," he said firmly.
"Try," I said.
He lunged at me again, and kissed me, and this time I struggled immediately and pushed him away. I was red and angry and my bonnet had fallen off. "How dare you, sir?!" I cried. "If you touch me again, I'll –"
He was looking shocked. "I'm sorry, Miss Bennet, I don't know what came over me... I suppose I'm just disappointed. – Oh, Miss Bennet, but think of the children!"
"Children?" I asked, completely befuddled.
"All the children we could have!"
I nearly burst out laughing. "You think I want to have children?"
"You don't want them?"
"No!" Now I suddenly felt terrible. After all, I had encouraged his attentions and it was all my fault. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I cannot marry you." I ran away, and he stormed off, and the worst of it is that as I just ran behind a bush and out of Sir Thomas' sight, I ran straight into Mr Wakefield. We both went red and I froze.
"I'm sorry, Miss Bennet," he said. "I couldn't help but hear. I was just walking through the forest and happened to pass by here."
The poor man was evidently very uncomfortable and ashamed of being the eavesdropper, even though he had obviously been an unwilling one.
"It's . . . it's fine," I whispered. I couldn't look him in the eye without turning even redder. "I suppose that was very improper."
He raised his eyebrows as I looked beseechingly up at him. "You did not seem at all improper to me," he said. "In fact, you behaved very well."
I tried to smile, but found it was beyond me. "I hope so," I murmured.
"Miss Bennet, there was nothing you could have done about it except what you did do, and you did well. I promise you."
I looked up at him again, and he had the kindest expression on his face; his eyes are such a velvety, sincere brown. He is surely one of the nicest men I have ever met. "Thank you," I said. "That makes me feel a lot better." And it did.
He smiled, touched his hat, and was gone. I ran back to Pemberley. He had helped me but he had not cured me completely, and I sat on my bed the whole evening sobbing at my own stupidity in imagining myself in love with one man when really I am in love with Mr Beaupays. How can I be so blind? I will hunt him out tomorrow at church.