Title- Catherine
Author- 4give4get
Rated- T
Disclaimer- I own nothing.
Serena- Thanks for the reviews I got. By the way, I bought my copy of Breaking Dawn by Stephanie Meyer and I'm going on and off between reading it and writing this. Just so you know, I'm better than Ms. Meyer…
Lorraine Seton- Thanks for the compliments and advice! Sorry about the hectic-ness. I'm working on that.
llGeekGoddessll- Thanks for reading, and the answer to your question is yes. We will hear more from Mary via letters, and I ought to give you a prize because yes the sequel to Catherine is indeed called Lydia.
distorted realities- I'm glad you find Lady Susan interesting. And thanks for the prediction. This won't give too much away, so I will say it: No, it is not the last we'll hear of Strat. Thanks for reading.
Chapter Three…
Mr. Sutter truly is beautiful, Kitty mused, rubbing her chin as she pretended to read her book in the parlor by Lizzy and Mr. Darcy.
And he was. He was a god. Czars even seemed unimportant to Kitty now. Czars didn't necessarily speak English, and would she wasn't sure she would be able to stand going all the way to Russia where it was likely horribly cold and so far from home. It would take eons for a single letter to reach Lydia, and even more eons for a single letter to reach Mary in America.
No, Mr. Sutter was better than a czar anyhow. He surely wasn't as rich as a czar, but what did it matter? Kitty actually might have a chance with him. He was staying at Pemberly until he would return to London for his father's funeral. Why could not he return with a wife? And why could that wife not be Kitty?
She would make a happy Mrs. Sutter.
As he began speaking something (of no interest to Kitty whatsoever) to Mr. Darcy, she wrinkled her nose and realized that he likely did not even see her at all. Anything he did see when they first met was gone now. If she were lucky. If anything, he thought her the cake-throwing savage that her sister was, as I've described in the previous chapter.
Perhaps he was turned on by the girl who was the sister of a completely shunned daughter who ran away to halfway across the world. Could it all be that convenient? Kitty laughed silently at her own folly at the thought. No, she thought better of herself, Things will not do as they are. I've got to put myself foreword. A version of myself everybody will be forced to like. And then how can he refuse me?
Even if my sister does throw cake, she added silently after a good while, her confidence dropping.
She continued to rub her chin and gaze slightly up at Mr. Sutter speaking with Mr. Darcy, the words slipping right past her ears, but as she did, Kitty plotted. Now, contrary to popular belief, there is absolutely nothing wrong with a plotting, scheming heroine such as our own. The story of a girl with such a lack of ambition would be truly dull. Catherine Bennet has plenty of ambition, which the gentle reader will come to realize likely before this chapter is over, if not at least before her story reaches its close. And so a plotting, scheming heroine we have; and not only that, but as she plots and schemes, it strictly is her own best interests at heart.
She has already hurt one in her plans for herself. And no one knows how many more could join the numbers before she is finally settled. But will she ever be satisfied. Kitty pushed these thoughts and others doubting her own judgment from her mind and chided herself to keep her mind only on winning over Mr. Sutter.
Which she would do.
Oh, she would do it all right.
As sure as she was alive, and as sure as she knew her ending would be just like it was in Vasilissa the Beautiful.
.x.X.x.
So the very next noon after tea, as Lizzy proposed a walk, Kitty saw her chance. All she had to do was be charming, polite, feminine, and… nice looking. As soon as she realized what was taking occurance, she bade Lizzy wait for her as she quickly ran up to her bedchamber. The day gown she had on was mint green. Kitty had never felt like she could pull of such a color, though her hair was dark. (She found that when blondes wore green it made their skin appear so also.) But her eyes were not green, and the juxtaposition just looked wrong. She also realized it would be strange if she changed her dress randomly, so she decided it would be much more prudent to keep it on; which is rather surprising considering our heroines lack of prudent thoughts at the present time. Surely the gentle reader knows that a prudent girl would never have such a plan in the first place.
In the close, she pinched color into her cheeks and made sure her hair was done perfectly by taking each pin out and combing it before putting it back up again. She made sure there was nothing stuck in her teeth, before she heard Lizzy calling for her, wondering aloud what on earth she was doing. Kitty smoothed her skirt and walked slowly and ladylike down the stairs, her head held so high it looked like she was trying to see something written on the ceiling. Unfortunately for Kitty, it took her to get to the bottom on the stairs before she stumbled over her own feet from lack of looking where she was going as she walked.
She did not go all the way down. She quickly held fast to the railing, but her trip was obvious to the spectators (Lizzy, Mrs. Reynolds, a bored looking housemaid, and Mr. Sutter). She no longer needed the pinched flush in her cheeks because she felt her face and neck burn in embarrassment. Kitty rarely ever tripped. It is not a very common occurrence for anyone, really. But as soon as she was trying to appear well-bred, she made a complete moron of herself. How did that happen, anyway?
She continued on, and snapped at the others, assuring them that, yes, she was perfectly alright as they showered her with such a question. Kitty was angry now, but did not throw a fit like she would have done had she been in a room by herself. No. She had to appear good-natured for today. She straightened herself out, and they all continued as if nothing ever happened.
The September wind was rather chilly, and it was more visible that the leaves were all turning. In all, it was a lovely autumn day, the sun was not to bright, nor was the ground too dry, the two utmost downsides to summer weather. Although Kitty was rather sad to see the summer go. Much more green, the sky was much larger and much bluer, and the sun only intensified those colors. She simply didn't enjoy autumn colors as much.
Half of a pearl-like moon was visible in the blue sky. As a child she always thought it odd how the moon would show itself in the day. But today she decided it more likely than not only added to the scene. The garden was dead, and not lovely in the slightest, and with such a breezy day on their hands, Kitty could hear the clanking of the iron gate as it swung back and forth, following the whimsical wind with utter devotion. It was perhaps even eerie. The autumn is often thought of as so, seeing as it is as Hallows Eve takes place, and the sounds the wind creates echoed so loudly in her ears, Kitty half expected time to randomly freeze, leaving her staring at the stilled, silenced trees, and the stilled, silenced world around her.
The dirt path made clouds of dust where they put their feet down, and Kitty sidled right up to Mr. Sutter, letting herself forget her most embarrassing fall back on the stairs.
"And how has your morning been, Mr. Sutter?" she began pleasantly, and smiling warmly. Usually when she tried to get a man's attention, he was much easier prey, or Lydia was there. When Kitty was compared to Lydia, she couldn't charm her way out of a paper bag and she knew it. But she didn't think about that, either.
"Well," was his lone, solitary, short, even rather cold reply. It sort of puzzled Kitty. She hadn't expected for it not to work instantly. Well, his father had just died, hadn't he? That must be it, she reasoned. Perhaps with a little more kind words he'd open right up. She quickly resumed her smile on that head.
"Marvelous," she began sweetly, simpering in a way she would have likely found disgusting before, but desperate times called for desperate measures, "And are not you sad to see the summer go? Although I dare say the autumn here in Derbyshire is certainly lovely—"
"Indeed, Miss Bennet," he interrupted her before she even finished that statement, in a similar manner as before—exceedingly uninviting. In all honesty, she was at rather a complete loss of what to do, or perhaps in this case, what to say.
Mr. Sutter was being rather cruel to her. Especially considering that he had been so pleasant to her before. Before the cake… Kitty didn't have the heart to try to strike up any conversation again, because she was quite sure he'd just shoot down all of her pleasantries and ignore her, hardly being civil at all. And Kitty hated it when people were impolite to her. So perhaps she was not the most ladylike girl all of the time, but she was rarely ever openly rude.
Upon realizing she would not speak to him again, Mr. Sutter began taking larger steps and doing so faster. Kitty watched him as he sped along the path ahead of her over to Lizzy, was doing all she could to keep from slapping her forehead. How stupid she had been to think that such a thing would even work at all! Tears pricked at Kitty's eyes, as rejection filled her heart.
This meant she would be an old maid like Miss Bingley, didn't it? Crabby and sitting about knitting under things for her whole life as she grew older and older and haglike. The thought was pondered upon in haste, for it has little veracity, and even less sense to it. Of course, Kitty had not the maturity to realize it. As her eyes grew watery, she swallowed deeply. In the seconds before tears formed, she turned to Lizzy.
"I apologize, but I forgot I was to make a call today. I am afraid I will have to quit you to Mr. Sutter, and I shall see you this afternoon, Elizabeth," she spoke quickly, and did not wait for a response as she lifted her skirt to her ankles and hurried down a fork in the path, leading out to Pond-on-Avon. At first, this action was simply so that no one would see her blubbering. She stepped over rose bushes, cutting across the way and off to the gate.
What an idiot she had been! How truly, truly stupid! The embarrassment of her plan gone awry, caused her to squirm in shame. Frustrated with herself, she kicked Pemberly's iron gate multiple times until her large tow burned in pain. Kitty ripped her bonnet off and threw it down on the ground as hard as she could and dug her nails into her palms. She threw a perfectly silent tantrum, aware that both Mr. Sutter and her sister were not that far away yet.
As she attempted to gather herself, she ran on. Not quite thinking of anything, only how upsetting this was, and heading straight for Lady Susan's address. No, she did not suppose she could stand the sight of Mr. Sutter or Lizzy at the moment, and she greatly suspected she might commit murder if she left herself alone. Of course, she was still a bit of a raging lunatic by the time she was banging on the front door of the large, fancy house with the perfectly done garden. Indeed, Lady Susan seemed to be exceedingly wealthy, especially when considering her abode of grandeur. The large pillars in front were perhaps Kitty's first clue to lead her to such a supposition on the subject of wealth.
The butler that opened the door eyed her strangely and asked her crisply for her business. He was cleanly shaven and perhaps forty years old in a black suit and held his nose rather higher than an average person would be inclined to, but still not as high as Kitty held hers when she had tripped earlier on the stairs.
She introduced herself as Catherine Bennet and that she simply must see Lady Susan as soon as possible. He made an expression down at her (without lowering his nose a single inch somehow) that seemed to say, "I usually never let riffraff like you in a good respectable place,"
Kitty then realized that her gown up to her knees was covered in all of the mud puddles she'd ignored and she'd left her bonnet at Pemberly so the hair she'd so carefully redone for Mr. Sutter had pretty much fallen around her shoulders, utterly tangled. She did her best to tuck the whole mess behind her ears.
"Lady Susan knows me," she pleaded, "Tell her Kitty is here to see her!"
He gave her a very similar look as from before, but did made a slight inclination of the head in her general direction and what seemed in a regretful manner, sighed, "Very well."
He gracefully walked off, leaving Kitty staring after him, wondering if indeed he was really walking, as opposed to floating an inch above the ground. The front hall of the house was much nicer than Pemberly's, It was all marble with golden chandeliers and a lovely mural decorated the impossibly high ceiling with lovely pink and white clouds with beautiful angels. She hadn't even noticed that she'd subconsciously taken several steps inside to get a closer look at it all.
She had noticed this in particular, as the butler returned, obviously not happy with her for not staying not staying on the doorstop, but could do nothing of it, since Lady Susan had indeed agreed to see her. He bade she follow him, as he frowned at her muddy boots on the lovely marble floor. Kitty grimaced and tried to walk lighter, as if that would help shed less filth in the house.
Each room seemed to be lovelier than the next (excluding the front hall) and by the time they reached the drawing room where Lady Susan sat, Kitty was sure Buckingham Palace could not have been lovelier, although of course, the gentle reader knows that Lady Susan's house was nothing compared to Buckingham Palace, we must forgive Kitty for her quickness of incorrect thought.
And Lady Susan did not seem to notice Kitty's muddiness, when her butler sure did. She smiled warmly and threw down the old brown book she was reading and bade the butler leave them.
"Take a seat, Kitty," she motioned to any of the chairs. And when she saw her having qualms about sitting down, she sighed, "Do not worry of soiling them, they can be cleaned."
Kitty nodded and sat down, still frowning at the mud.
"Tea?" Lady Susan offered hospitably.
"No thank you," Kitty cleared her thought, before everything that had happened before with Mr. Sutter came rushing forwards so fast, that the tears that she had attempted to dry before came to her eyes again. She made a small sob as she remembered Mr. Sutter's facial expression towards her.
Lady Susan did not pat her back, nor did she try to comfort her out of crying, but only handed her a handkerchief from her pocket and silently watched her cry after Kitty had accepted it. She did not interrupt once. And although it could very likely be mistaken for lack of concern of sympathy, it truly was not. Kitty was glad to cry it all out. She wouldn't be able to speak very well afterwards if she still had it all in her system. And when she finally was done, she wiped her red, wet eyes one last time, and then blew her nose loudly.
Kitty wrung the handkerchief in her hands nervously before she looked up into the somewhat collected face of Lady Susan. The tears had stopped but her eyes and cheeks were both red and irritated. She breathed deeply to calm herself.
"Now, I see that this is obviously not a mere social visit," the old woman mused, "Are you going to tell me what this is all about, Kitty?"
Kitty hiccupped and nodded. She began with an account on how she is expected to marry soon. Lady Susan only nodded slowly to that, understanding what it is to be an almost eighteen-year-old girl herself. And then Kitty launched into describing Mr. Sutter.
"But he'll have nothing to do with you?" Lady Susan asked, finishing Kitty's speech rapidly.
"No," Kitty agreed, "And I have no idea what to do—"
Lady Susan cut her off by making a loud snort—not something Kitty usually never heard a lady do, most especially one of Lady Susan's status. It shut her right up, however.
"Do not do anything. If he does not want you, you are not going to make him, you know."
"How do you know that?" Kitty demanded, sitting more in an upright position than she had been in a few seconds ago.
"Do you love him?"
"No, but—"
"Then it's that simple," Lady Susan concluded, "He obviously does not care one bit for you, and you only care for his money, so the match is not looking like a very good one as it is."
"But then what am I supposed to do about finding a husband?" Kitty wanted to know sourly, mostly because the old woman before her spoke pure truth.
"Wait. Do not force it to happen. You may find someone who wants to marry you for exactly who you are, and vise-versa. If I were you, Kitty, I would not settle for anything else until I had just that."
"You mean you want me to marry Strat?" Kitty practically screamed in surprise, her voice going shrill. Lady Susan merely blinked in surprise of her own at the sudden outburst.
"And pray tell, who is Stat?" the old woman calmly asked, and Kitty realized that Lady Susan would have no idea who Stat even was. She was more than a bit frustrated with herself by this point in the conversation that was clearly going nowhere.
"Oh, never mind," she said, sighing, "He's just a boy I know."
But the old woman would not leave it alone. Suddenly, her face pricked up, her eyes brightened and she was exceedingly intrigued in the conversation now that a second suitor had entered the ring. Kitty rubbed her temples in distaste as she pondered the thought.
"And does he love you?"
"No!"
"Why don't I believe you?"
"Because he's only twenty-one, still a student, and the most foolish young thing I've ever seen!" Kitty seethed.
"Those aren't reasons why he wouldn't love you," Lady Susan pointed out wisely.
"But they are reasons why I wouldn't love him, which are just as good," Kitty countered.
"I do not see how they are connected at all. Perhaps it would not look good if you married such a person, but it will not prevent you from loving him," Lady Susan explained.
"I do not love Strat," Kitty said firmly through gritted teeth.
"Very well," the old woman held her hands up in defense and obviously simply did not feel like arguing with her, "But I do feel sorry for the fellow. In love with a girl who has her sights set for some rich man who would never glance in her direction twice."
That did it. Kitty stood up and stomped her foot in anger, "He brings in upon himself!" she railed, "If he didn't always bring the subject up I would not hurt him so much"
"Perhaps," Lady Susan hedged, "But maybe the feeling of telling you he loves you is worth the pain when you shoot him down."
That last statement left Kitty speechless, but at the same time trembling in anger. How did she… what right did… Kitty threw the handkerchief down on the floor with as much force as she had, and managed to find her tongue again.
"That is the sickest thing I have ever heard!" she let loose her whole temper on the woman before her, "That kind of thing does not even exist! And further more, I bet you got that very line out of a gothic novel, anyway!"
"Did I?" Lady Susan seemed amused by this notion, "I assure you I did not. I will not deny it is sick, but true also, I'm afraid."
"It is not true!" Kitty blustered.
"I am old enough to be your grandmother, Kitty," Lady Susan sighed, "I do believe I would know better—I've seen much more of life than you have."
Kitty did not feel much better, but did sit down, clenching her fists and trying to breath it all out. I cannot get so angry all the time, she thought to herself, over and over. She looked up to see whether or not Lady Susan was done speaking.
"Well, I will not say anything more about this Strat, but do take my advice and forget Mr. Sutter," she was saying.
As much as it wounded Kitty's pride to think it, she did realize it was a very foolish idea to try to lure such a man. Any man, really. Happy relationships did not start that way.
"And if he does not want you, do not feel angry, feel sorry for him. If he does not see the good in you, that is hardly your fault. You can do better, Kitty."
She even broke into a smile. As she left, she even promised to visit again soon. So perhaps the old woman did have some good advice to give. Even if she is dead-wrong about Strat and I, she thought. On the walk back to Pemberly, she had the misfortune to hear a horribly familiar voice call out, "Kitty!"
Before she even turned her head in the direction in which it was coming from she knew just who it was. Taliaferro Stratton. Will that boy not leave me alone to my miserable life? Kitty demanded to herself.
She stopped walking, and heard his footsteps as he ran up to her. Slowly, she turned to face him. How likely was it that she'd see him so quickly after having such a conversation about him? Her sort of luck… She did not look up into his eyes, but simply stared straight ahead at his chin instead, concentrating on not losing her face.
"I need to go home, Strat," she began, a huge lump in her throat.
"Kitty, look at me," he begged, "Please."
Though it hurt, she did. Strat's face looked same as ever, and she surprised even herself by keeping herself together so well and not bursting into tears again. That would be rather embarrassing to do in front of Strat.
"You still won't have me?" he whispered.
"Please stop asking," she said softly, wondering if he was feeling as Lady Susan had said. No, she told herself, of course not!
"Do not think that I do not know about the man staying at Pemberly as well as you—Mr. Sutter was it," Strat said bitterly, "I know all about him, probably more about him than you do."
Kitty parted her lips and slowly shook her head as she took a step back from him, "I don't understand…"
"Kitty," he seemed seconds from tears now, "I love you more than that bastard ever could!"
She glared at him, "Mr. Sutter never looks at me twice, for your information. Do you think someone as wealthy as him could think that way about a girl like me?" She spoke the truth for the first time, and for once it did not leave acid in her mouth.
"Really?" he demanded, "Because if he thinks that way, he's a fool! You're worth more than every last penny in the world, Kitty!"
"Strat, stop," she sighed, raising her hand to silence him, "You don't even know what you are saying. You do not even know me that well…"
"Sure I do," he argued, "I know you better than anyone else. Better than your fool of a sister, Mrs. Darcy knows you. I do not think she had ever seen you pitch a fit or yell like you do around me. And I love you for that. No other girls get angry—"
"Good-bye, Strat," Kitty quickly interrupted him and turned on her heel and ran. He did not follow her, but she did not look back to see what he did do. She would never know.
And as the writer, I sincerely hope that the gentle reader will never have to be in such a situation as our heroine was in that afternoon. To hurt someone so much it hurt her as well. To want to make someone happy by saying, 'yes,' but being forced to say, 'no' out of nothing but prudence that barely even made sense to her. It was truly maddening, and Kitty could not even remember a time when she had felt so horrible and undeserving.
But what exactly was her logic behind her decision? Well, so Mr. Sutter would never marry her. But Strat was certainly not someone she could marry, either. There would be other men, wouldn't there? So if the two people she had her eye on wouldn't work out, just drop them and move on. Life went on, right?
But those thoughts did little. She still felt as low as a rug when she stumbled back in the front doors of Pemberly and ignored Mrs. Reynolds as she gasped at how muddy she was. The chilly wind stopped as soon as she stepped through the threshold and felt warmth rush in her pores. As she passed through the drawing room, she saw Lizzy eye her shrewdly.
"Kitty?" she began, "Kitty, what on earth happened?"
She realized she was likely talking about what a mess she looked, and just blankly shrugged her shoulders. What do you think happened, you miserable cur? She thought bitterly, how does anyone get mud on them?
"You look horrible, did someone say something to you?" she continued. Kitty realized she was not talking about her appearance but more of the emotions she was currently expressing. That would be harder to answer without giving too much away.
"I assure you it's nothing at all, Lizzy," Kitty said quietly, just wanting to get up to her chambers to take a hot bath and go to bed and never come back out.
"It's not Lydia, is it?" she looked at her suspiciously, "You owe her none of you sympathy. Think no more of her, write her no more—She chose her life, Kitty."
Kitty looked up from her feet and right into her sister's eyes. The words did not form in her head, but instead they seemed to be born directly on her tongue as she spoke them. She spoke slowly and quietly—so quietly it was barely over a mutter, "People make mistakes, Elizabeth. And people can also be forgiven for those mistakes. If not by you, then by me, because Lydia is my sister and I will stand by her."
After making such a speech, Kitty felt rather like Mary. But not quite, the feeling of the words created on her tongue was gone as soon as she'd finished and she was quiet, little Kitty again. She turned to leave the room, but Lizzy called her back once.
"Kitty," she began, "Have you thought any on finding a husband yet?"
Pure pain pulsed through her veins, the pain she had been slightly relieved of when her attention was directed on defending Lydia. She stopped, but did not turn around and lowered her head.
"No, Lizzy."
She continued out of the room and straight up to her bedchamber. As she entered and kicked the door closed behind her, she stared at the white wall and sighed, perhaps trying to shift some of the weight off of her chest in that sigh. Her heart was still as heavy as it had been. It had not been the greatest day for our heroine.
End Chapter
Serena- Please review. Grr, I really hate some books—Breaking Dawn by Stephanie Meyer in particular.
Thanks for reading.