CHAPTER TWELVE
After a very long time, we managed to part at the gates of Pemberley, and I skipped inside, singing very badly. "Hello Lizzy! Hello Ernest! Hello Isobel!" I warbled in the direction of my sister and her children.
Lizzy inclined her head in a knowing way. "Catherine Sophia Bennet? What have you been up to?"
I blushed fatally, but was unable to school my expression into lazy incredulity. "Nothing!" It was a little too embarrassing to admit that Elizabeth had been totally right last night while I had been as foolish as ever.
"You are suspiciously happy," she said, getting up and walking towards me in the style of an interrogator. "I surmise . . . that you are in love?"
"Why ever do you think that?" I asked, evading the question.
"Kitty, it is quite simple really – let me explain. You have been out of the house for at the very least two and a half hours. You left miserable and thoughtful looking, you return skipping, singing and smiling with a look of absolute satisfaction. Something must have happened during your walk, and these somethings always turn out to be romantic encounters. Tell me, Kitty!"
"I think Ernest wants something," I replied weakly, as Ernest waved a chubby hand in the air.
"Of course he does not," she said. "You won't get rid of me that easily."
"Oh, very well," I said, unable to suppress a smirk. "You are right now, you were right last night, I do love Mr Wakefield and he does love me."
Elizabeth immediately went into raptures which I cannot be bothered writing in here, except that they were very long, and dotted with smug exclamations such as "I told you so!" all throughout. Then she sat me down, and made me answer all manner of questions, until I (almost) wished it had never happened.
"He is going to Hertfordshire tomorrow to ask our father's permission to marry me," I said. "I told him that Father and Mama were coming to visit soon but he could not wait. I really don't see how he or Mama can see Mr Wakefield as anything but eligible. The only objection Father can have is that I am too silly for such a man," I sighed.
I sounded calm but actually I was tremendously scared. What if Father refused his consent? I know Mr Wakefield would never elope, being an honourable clergyman and all that. And I want to marry him very VERY soon because now that I know for sure I am in love I want to fix things so he cannot get out of it. (I don't think he will, for he is the sort of man who is very decisive and who knows what he wants. I hope. Oh dear, all these doubts keep flying into my mind. What if I dreamed it all? Now that would be embarrassing.)
Only Elizabeth knows because he has not obtained Father's permission yet. I made Lizzy promise to tell not a soul, even Mr Darcy, (it would be too embarrassing if somehow this was all a dream), and she promised in a sinister whisper that she would be as silent as the grave.
Diary. I am so happy I cannot quite believe it has happened. Why would such an intelligent man pick me?! It might be that theory that intelligent men pick foolish women so they can always be in command. But I don't think Mr Wakefield – Henry – is like that. And even if that is why, I will just make sure my hand is on top when we cut the cake.
Twenty-four hours ago I was confused and befuddled and worried and upset and basically a basket-case. Now, I may not be sure that I haven't imagined the entirety of his feelings for me, but I know, without a doubt, that I love him. It makes me cringe to even think of my 'love' for the other men. A case of the boy who cried wolf, don't you think? I hope you believe me this time that he is the one for me.
He is truly the best man I have ever known, and the nicest as well. He is perfect in every particular; I have yet to see the 'grumpiness' and 'unsociability' he claimed has a hold on him sometimes. Wait!
Oh my goodness, he just came to my window! "Kitty!" he called, waiting for me to get to the window. "I know this is grossly improper, but I am leaving very early tomorrow morning and I want to say goodbye!"
"You're not having second thoughts, are you?" I whispered anxiously when I ran to the window in my dressing gown.
He blew me a kiss. "Of course not, you silly goose! I can hardly stand waiting the night before I obtain your father's permission!"
"Oh Henry, please tell him I am not so silly anymore! I am scared he will warn you not to marry me!"
"Wild horses couldn't keep me from marrying you," he said firmly. "If I have to, I will kidnap you. Don't give it another thought, my love."
Of course this endearment made me quiver all over and swallow hard and I couldn't say anything for a few moments. Finally, "All right, Henry." Then suddenly I had a recollection. "Henry, did you know that my parents and my sister are coming here soon? To see Ernest and Isobel?"
"Yes, I know," he said, "but I can't wait!" He laughed. "I must go now. I am sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, not that you need it, but you see I had to come and say farewell."
"When will you be back?" I asked quietly. "I will miss you so much."
"If all goes to plan and I ride hard, I will be in Hertfordshire tomorrow evening, and I will return on Saturday to be back in time for church on Sunday. I will miss you too, darling Kitty. Promise not to forget me?"
"If you think I would forget you so quickly-"I said, but he interrupted me.
"I know, Kitty," he broke in, smiling, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. "Now, I must be off, or someone will spot us, and we will be drenched in scandal. And you know that is entirely unsuitable for a clergyman of my calibre." He paused. "I love you."
"I love you too," I said, and blew him a kiss, which he returned promptly.
Now I am lying in bed with a foolish little smile on my face that I find impossible to wipe off, and there is no way I can go to sleep now. Whenever I shut my eyes, I see his face, and I thank God for giving me him. I must try to get some sleep. No, I don't see the importance much as he will not be here to see big circles under tired eyes, but that is not the point. I must get sleep because it is healthy, and because I know he would want me to. (Somehow I know he will not get much sleep tonight either. I will be willing his thoughts towards me every minute.) I must put this book down, and my quill, and be sensible.
Oh diary I am finding it very hard to be sensible and logical right now!
I think God is laughing somewhere.
Goodnight.
(I am a fool, a dolt, an idiot! Why did I not realise before today?! Smack on the hand, Kitty! There. Now I have knocked some sense into myself, I can bask in my love and go to sleep.)
Friday May 8
I have spent today wandering dreamily around the hills with Louisa. By necessity I had to tell her, for it was impossible for me to hide the blissful, bovine-like smile on my face all day. She was very pleased, and unlike my sister, refrained the whole day from saying "I told you so," which is very good of her.
I'm afraid I wasn't very good company, for the whole day I was thinking of Henry and wondering where he would be and imagining my wedding dress and how well I would look in it. I think I will have to borrow Elizabeth's veil, for it is the prettiest veil I have ever seen and I think it would suit me exceedingly.
If Father gives his consent.
Which reminds me, Henry will be asking for his consent as I write. That makes me very nervous. What will Father be saying or thinking?
Saturday May 9
This is the awful situation I have been imagining ever since I thought about it. Henry asks to speak to him, and they go into the library and sit down. Then Henry says, "I confess I have fallen in love with your daughter Kitty, and I request your permission to marry her."
Father leans forward in surprise and says, "Did you tell me you were a clergyman?"
"Yes," Henry replies.
"My poor fellow, on what pretext has my daughter persuaded you to marry her?" Father says.
"Pretext?" asks Henry, puzzled. "On no pretext at all; we have fallen in love."
"Fallen in love!" wonders Father out loud. "But it cannot be so! Kitty is the silliest being alive, my good man, perhaps excluding her sister Lydia, and I hardly think she would make a suitable wife for a clergyman!"
"Really?" asks Henry gravely.
"Yes, oh goodness yes," says Father. "I daresay she has not told you half that which she has done in the past! Why, she encouraged her sister to elope with a certain scoundrel last year, she chases all the officers in Meryton, she . . ." And he goes through a list of all my various sillinesses until Henry is sitting quite shocked in his chair.
"I am sorry for wasting your time, sir, I did not know all this," he says grimly. "I see now that asking Miss Bennet to marry me was a grievous mistake and I shall break all ties with her immediately."
It is such a dreadful thing to think about, but so probable, that I cannot stop crying and imagining Henry coming back to see me and saying coldly, "I am sorry, Miss Bennet, but I see now that proposing to you was a mistake. I cannot marry you."
Oh diary, if that happens, it really will break my heart.
After a very long time, we managed to part at the gates of Pemberley, and I skipped inside, singing very badly. "Hello Lizzy! Hello Ernest! Hello Isobel!" I warbled in the direction of my sister and her children.
Lizzy inclined her head in a knowing way. "Catherine Sophia Bennet? What have you been up to?"
I blushed fatally, but was unable to school my expression into lazy incredulity. "Nothing!" It was a little too embarrassing to admit that Elizabeth had been totally right last night while I had been as foolish as ever.
"You are suspiciously happy," she said, getting up and walking towards me in the style of an interrogator. "I surmise . . . that you are in love?"
"Why ever do you think that?" I asked, evading the question.
"Kitty, it is quite simple really – let me explain. You have been out of the house for at the very least two and a half hours. You left miserable and thoughtful looking, you return skipping, singing and smiling with a look of absolute satisfaction. Something must have happened during your walk, and these somethings always turn out to be romantic encounters. Tell me, Kitty!"
"I think Ernest wants something," I replied weakly, as Ernest waved a chubby hand in the air.
"Of course he does not," she said. "You won't get rid of me that easily."
"Oh, very well," I said, unable to suppress a smirk. "You are right now, you were right last night, I do love Mr Wakefield and he does love me."
Elizabeth immediately went into raptures which I cannot be bothered writing in here, except that they were very long, and dotted with smug exclamations such as "I told you so!" all throughout. Then she sat me down, and made me answer all manner of questions, until I (almost) wished it had never happened.
"He is going to Hertfordshire tomorrow to ask our father's permission to marry me," I said. "I told him that Father and Mama were coming to visit soon but he could not wait. I really don't see how he or Mama can see Mr Wakefield as anything but eligible. The only objection Father can have is that I am too silly for such a man," I sighed.
I sounded calm but actually I was tremendously scared. What if Father refused his consent? I know Mr Wakefield would never elope, being an honourable clergyman and all that. And I want to marry him very VERY soon because now that I know for sure I am in love I want to fix things so he cannot get out of it. (I don't think he will, for he is the sort of man who is very decisive and who knows what he wants. I hope. Oh dear, all these doubts keep flying into my mind. What if I dreamed it all? Now that would be embarrassing.)
Only Elizabeth knows because he has not obtained Father's permission yet. I made Lizzy promise to tell not a soul, even Mr Darcy, (it would be too embarrassing if somehow this was all a dream), and she promised in a sinister whisper that she would be as silent as the grave.
Diary. I am so happy I cannot quite believe it has happened. Why would such an intelligent man pick me?! It might be that theory that intelligent men pick foolish women so they can always be in command. But I don't think Mr Wakefield – Henry – is like that. And even if that is why, I will just make sure my hand is on top when we cut the cake.
Twenty-four hours ago I was confused and befuddled and worried and upset and basically a basket-case. Now, I may not be sure that I haven't imagined the entirety of his feelings for me, but I know, without a doubt, that I love him. It makes me cringe to even think of my 'love' for the other men. A case of the boy who cried wolf, don't you think? I hope you believe me this time that he is the one for me.
He is truly the best man I have ever known, and the nicest as well. He is perfect in every particular; I have yet to see the 'grumpiness' and 'unsociability' he claimed has a hold on him sometimes. Wait!
Oh my goodness, he just came to my window! "Kitty!" he called, waiting for me to get to the window. "I know this is grossly improper, but I am leaving very early tomorrow morning and I want to say goodbye!"
"You're not having second thoughts, are you?" I whispered anxiously when I ran to the window in my dressing gown.
He blew me a kiss. "Of course not, you silly goose! I can hardly stand waiting the night before I obtain your father's permission!"
"Oh Henry, please tell him I am not so silly anymore! I am scared he will warn you not to marry me!"
"Wild horses couldn't keep me from marrying you," he said firmly. "If I have to, I will kidnap you. Don't give it another thought, my love."
Of course this endearment made me quiver all over and swallow hard and I couldn't say anything for a few moments. Finally, "All right, Henry." Then suddenly I had a recollection. "Henry, did you know that my parents and my sister are coming here soon? To see Ernest and Isobel?"
"Yes, I know," he said, "but I can't wait!" He laughed. "I must go now. I am sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, not that you need it, but you see I had to come and say farewell."
"When will you be back?" I asked quietly. "I will miss you so much."
"If all goes to plan and I ride hard, I will be in Hertfordshire tomorrow evening, and I will return on Saturday to be back in time for church on Sunday. I will miss you too, darling Kitty. Promise not to forget me?"
"If you think I would forget you so quickly-"I said, but he interrupted me.
"I know, Kitty," he broke in, smiling, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. "Now, I must be off, or someone will spot us, and we will be drenched in scandal. And you know that is entirely unsuitable for a clergyman of my calibre." He paused. "I love you."
"I love you too," I said, and blew him a kiss, which he returned promptly.
Now I am lying in bed with a foolish little smile on my face that I find impossible to wipe off, and there is no way I can go to sleep now. Whenever I shut my eyes, I see his face, and I thank God for giving me him. I must try to get some sleep. No, I don't see the importance much as he will not be here to see big circles under tired eyes, but that is not the point. I must get sleep because it is healthy, and because I know he would want me to. (Somehow I know he will not get much sleep tonight either. I will be willing his thoughts towards me every minute.) I must put this book down, and my quill, and be sensible.
Oh diary I am finding it very hard to be sensible and logical right now!
I think God is laughing somewhere.
Goodnight.
(I am a fool, a dolt, an idiot! Why did I not realise before today?! Smack on the hand, Kitty! There. Now I have knocked some sense into myself, I can bask in my love and go to sleep.)
Friday May 8
I have spent today wandering dreamily around the hills with Louisa. By necessity I had to tell her, for it was impossible for me to hide the blissful, bovine-like smile on my face all day. She was very pleased, and unlike my sister, refrained the whole day from saying "I told you so," which is very good of her.
I'm afraid I wasn't very good company, for the whole day I was thinking of Henry and wondering where he would be and imagining my wedding dress and how well I would look in it. I think I will have to borrow Elizabeth's veil, for it is the prettiest veil I have ever seen and I think it would suit me exceedingly.
If Father gives his consent.
Which reminds me, Henry will be asking for his consent as I write. That makes me very nervous. What will Father be saying or thinking?
Saturday May 9
This is the awful situation I have been imagining ever since I thought about it. Henry asks to speak to him, and they go into the library and sit down. Then Henry says, "I confess I have fallen in love with your daughter Kitty, and I request your permission to marry her."
Father leans forward in surprise and says, "Did you tell me you were a clergyman?"
"Yes," Henry replies.
"My poor fellow, on what pretext has my daughter persuaded you to marry her?" Father says.
"Pretext?" asks Henry, puzzled. "On no pretext at all; we have fallen in love."
"Fallen in love!" wonders Father out loud. "But it cannot be so! Kitty is the silliest being alive, my good man, perhaps excluding her sister Lydia, and I hardly think she would make a suitable wife for a clergyman!"
"Really?" asks Henry gravely.
"Yes, oh goodness yes," says Father. "I daresay she has not told you half that which she has done in the past! Why, she encouraged her sister to elope with a certain scoundrel last year, she chases all the officers in Meryton, she . . ." And he goes through a list of all my various sillinesses until Henry is sitting quite shocked in his chair.
"I am sorry for wasting your time, sir, I did not know all this," he says grimly. "I see now that asking Miss Bennet to marry me was a grievous mistake and I shall break all ties with her immediately."
It is such a dreadful thing to think about, but so probable, that I cannot stop crying and imagining Henry coming back to see me and saying coldly, "I am sorry, Miss Bennet, but I see now that proposing to you was a mistake. I cannot marry you."
Oh diary, if that happens, it really will break my heart.