Uncommonly Intelligent Chapter 5: A Good Beginning, a pride and prejudice fanfic

Chapter 5: A Good Beginning

Lady Rutherford was thrilled with what she was seeing. Lizzy was exceeding her wildest dreams in almost every area. "Almost," because her fingers could not keep up with her brain. She was still young, but while not deficient, she did not show any extraordinary talent for painting or embroidery.

As for music, Lady Rutherford's pianoforte master, maestro Lorenzo Mondello, was in transports over Lizzy's ability to "hear" musical scores in her head as she read them, to memorize them almost immediately, and to understand what the composer was trying to achieve, which allowed her to play with expression far beyond most pupils twice her age. But no matter how much she practiced, the more difficult passages were sometimes beyond the size of her hands, which remained smaller than average even for her height. As she grew older, Lizzy learned to compensate for this by mentally rewriting the score to suit her ability. This was not the fudging or haphazard dropping of notes that was the common refuge of less than proficient performers, rather it was a spontaneous mini-composition that preserved the essence, if not the intricacy, of the passage. The result was pleasing to everyone, and her simplifications went unnoticed by all but the most discerning. Lizzy also displayed a great talent for the harp, which was more forgiving of a small hand span.

The only thing Lady Rutherford saw in Lizzy that made her worry was her temper - Lizzy was prone to act without thinking when she became angry. Obviously, she could not expect a little girl to act with perfect decorum at all times, but she did not want to leave this tendency unchecked. Whenever she could, she reminded Lizzy that young ladies did not lose their temper.

Lady Rutherford decided that more drastic measures were called for shortly after Lizzy turned six, when she overheard Lizzy calling one of her playmates "stupid." Rachel, the little girl who received this insult, had run off crying, and although Lizzy looked chagrined for a moment, she was soon back to normal. Lady Rutherford understood that Lizzy could be short of patience when explaining things, because she didn't realize that other people could not grasp concepts almost instantly the way she did. But there was no excuse for rudeness.

This had to stop. How could she get through to Lizzy? An idea formed. She would need some large footmen, and not from Netherfield, because it would be best if Lizzy never saw them again. She sat down at her desk and began writing a letter to her brother-in-law David in London, with whom she had a very cordial relationship.

A few days later, Lady Rutherford collected Lizzy from her Italian lesson and said, "Lizzy, how would you like to go on a picnic with me?"

By now Lizzy would have done anything for Lady Rutherford, who had almost become the mother she never had, so going on a picnic was not much of a favor. "I would like that very much, Lady Rutherford. When?"

"Right now, Lizzy. The carriage is waiting."

Lizzy was confused at the suddenness of this outing, and even more confused when there was no one else waiting in the carriage. "Where are the others, Lady Rutherford?"

"This is a special picnic, Lizzy. Just you and me. Is that all right with you?"

"But where is Jane?"

"Jane is still at her lessons, and we will be back before she finishes. It will just be a short picnic. All right?"

"Yes, Lady Rutherford." Lizzy was still puzzled, but could not think of anything bad about going on a picnic.

The carriage drove only for a few minutes, and then they stopped near the crest of a hill and got out. Lizzy was amazed to see a table already set up on the grass near the top of the hill, with a large fruit cake on it.

"Do you like fruit cake, Lizzy?" asked Lady Rutherford, as if there were any doubt.

"Yes, very much, Lady Rutherford," said Lizzy enthusiastically.

"Good, then why don't we have some?"

Lizzy sat and watched with anticipation as Lady Rutherford cut her a piece of cake that was at least twice as large as she was hoping for. She was about to dig in when she heard a deep voice say, "Oho! Fruit cake! My favorite!"

She looked up and was astonished to see a giant striding down the hill toward them. He was the largest man she had ever seen - papa's head would barely reach his chest. The huge man walked right up to the table and said, "That looks delicious! I think I'll try some." He grabbed Lizzy's cake with his fingers and shoved it into his mouth.

Lizzy looked around with alarm, but Lady Rutherford's footmen had somehow vanished. Still, she was more angry than frightened. "That is my cake!"

The huge man looked at her with scorn. "Well, I say it is MY cake, and I am bigger and stronger than you, so there is nothing you can do about it." He proved his point by grabbing the rest of the cake, plate and all, and striding off toward the top of the hill.

Lizzy was enraged. She ran after the man and started pummeling him with her tiny fists. This was not in Lady Rutherford's script, so she called out, "Lizzy, stop!"

But the man merely looked amused, and gently but firmly picked Lizzy up. He held her face just a foot from his with her feet dangling in the air, gave a ferocious scowl made even more frightening by the gobbets of cake in his teeth, and said, "You had better watch out, little girl, or I will throw you into the river, for I am bigger and stronger than you!" He then put her down, turned her around, and gave her a gentle shove back toward the table. Lizzy, now so thoroughly frightened that she forgot that there was no river nearby, ran back to Lady Rutherford and buried her face in her dress. When she could be persuaded to open her eyes and release Lady Rutherford, the large man had disappeared, and the footmen were back.

"Lizzy, come, we must leave," said Lady Rutherford. Lizzy, crying, trudged toward the carriage. Lady Rutherford wondered whether she had gone too far, but she could only hope that no real harm had been done. When they were seated in the carriage, she took Lizzy's hands and said, "Never mind Lizzy, we will go and pick some apples. Would you like that?"

Lizzy sniffed and nodded. Again it was a journey of but a few minutes, and they stopped near Netherfield's apple orchard. Lady Rutherford produced two small baskets from somewhere, and they walked over to the edge of the trees. It was a bit early in the season, but on the outside limbs where there was no shade the apples were almost perfectly ripe, and some had already fallen. Lady Rutherford said, "See if any of those on the ground look good."

Lizzy, with the resilience of youth, happily began sorting through the apples on the ground. Most of them had been picked at by birds or animals, but she found a couple that looked untouched. Just then she looked up and saw another large man striding toward them. She stiffened in fear, expecting him to take her apples, for although not so large as the giant on the hill, he was still much taller than her father. Instead, he smiled and said, "Hello, little girl, do you need some help reaching the apples?" He pointed to some beautiful apples on a limb nearly four feet over Lizzy's head.

Lizzy looked at Lady Rutherford, who nodded and said, "Go ahead Lizzy, it's all right." Lizzy nodded to the man, and he gently lifted her and held her high in the air, putting the apples within easy reach. Lizzy picked several and then said, "Thank you sir, my basket is full." The man placed her back on the ground and said, "You are very welcome, my lady." He bowed to her and walked off, whistling.

"Well, Lizzy, you have a fine basket of apples there," said Lady Rutherford. "Let's go back and see if we can talk Madame Beaumont into making apple pie, shall we?"

Lizzy nodded vigorously, and they boarded the carriage again, this time going back to the house.

When they arrived, Lady Rutherford instructed a footman to take the apples to the kitchen, and then said, "Lizzy, come to my study for a moment, I would like to talk to you."

As they entered the study, Lizzy was surprised to see a large piece of fruit cake waiting for her. She was about to enjoy it when Lady Rutherford said, "Now Lizzy, tell me what you think of that man we saw on the hill."

Lizzy glared. "He was an awful man. I hate him!"

"But did you not admire how big and strong he was?"

"No, he was mean!"

"I agree, he was very mean. And what about the man in the apple orchard?"

"Oh! He was very nice."

"Yes, he was. But did you notice that he was almost as large as the other man? He could have taken your apples if he had wanted to."

Lizzy nodded. "Yes, he was quite tall."

"So you see, Lizzy, it is not how big and strong a man is that is the most important thing about him, but how nice he is."

Lizzy warily nodded, not sure where this was going.

"Both of those men were bigger and stronger than we are. But one of them used his strength to hurt people, and the other to help people."

Lizzy put her fork down.

"Lizzy, if you were big and strong, which one of those men would you want to act like?"

"The man in the orchard," Lizzy said quietly.

"Yes, I believe you would. God blesses some people with gifts, but it is up to them how they use those gifts. Size and strength are gifts. So is intelligence."

Lizzy was looking at her hands.

"You have been given a great gift, Lizzy. I believe that you may be the most intelligent little girl I have ever known. You can use that gift to help people, or you can use it to hurt people, especially their feelings."

Lizzy said nothing, so Lady Rutherford continued, "That man on the hill was very big and strong. One could say that compared to him, most people are weak. But does that give him the right to be mean to people?"

"No, Lady Rutherford."

"Now, Lizzy, this is very important. There is more than one kind of bully. You are extremely intelligent. One could say that compared to you, most people are stupid. But does that give you the right to be mean to people?"

Lizzy looked up, her eyes sad. "I made Rachel feel bad."

Lady Rutherford was gratified that Lizzy had made the connection by herself. "Yes, Lizzy, you did. I know you didn't mean to, but you did. And do you know why Rachel felt so bad?"

"Because I was mean to her."

"Well, yes, but it's more than that. It was not just that you were mean to her, but that *you* were mean to her."

Lizzy looked confused.

"You see, Lizzy, it always hurts when people say mean things to you, but it hurts even more when the person saying mean things is someone you like and respect. Would you care very much if that man on the hill said he didn't like you?"

"No, Lady Rutherford."

"But would you care very much if Jane said she didn't like you?"

Lizzy looked horrified. "Yes, Lady Rutherford." She was on the verge of tears again. "Am I a bad person?"

"Oh no, Lizzy! I think you are a wonderful little girl! In fact, if I had a daughter, I would want one just like you." Lizzy looked up in surprise. "It's true, Lizzy, I think you are sweet and kind and pretty and smart. I believe you will grow up to become a wonderful young lady, and I would be proud to help you do that. But part of that is correcting you when I see you do something wrong. None of us is perfect, but we should always try to be nice. Not just polite, but nice."

Lizzy nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Lizzy, it is because you are so sweet and kind and pretty and smart that people like and respect you. Your opinion means a great deal to them. So it hurts them when you are mean to them more than it would hurt if someone they didn't respect were mean to them. And it makes them feel very good indeed when you are nice to them.

"Lizzy, I want you to think about those two men, and about what kind of person you want to be. I want you to think about how you can use your gift to help people, and how much it can hurt people when you allow your temper to run away with you, because people who know you like and respect you. I want you to think about how you don't care how strong that man on the hill was, but how mean he was. And how nice the man in the orchard was, and how good it made you feel when he was nice to you. I want you to be the best person you can be."

Lizzy nodded again. "I will tell Rachel I am sorry. I will help her with her lessons."

"That would be a very nice thing to do, Lizzy."

Both Bennet and Lady Rutherford had expected Lizzy to plateau sooner or later, but as the months passed, she showed no sign of doing so. By her eighth year, Lizzy could read a page of nearly any book in any of several languages in seconds, with high retention. If she slowed down a bit and concentrated on it, she could remember it almost perfectly, to the point that on her rambles, she could ponder passages from a difficult book as if she had it in front of her. She could also replay famous games of chess in her head as easily as if she were sitting at the board, and sometimes found a more elegant win than was achieved in the actual game. She had read most of the books in the impressive libraries of Longbourn and Netherfield, and Bennet seriously wondered how long it would take her to go through the Bodleian library at Oxford if she had free access to it.

And she very nearly did. Bennet was now taking her to Oxford several times a year, and so many of the dons wanted to meet and talk with Lizzy, and get trounced by her at chess, that she was given great leeway, and unofficially allowed unprecedented access to the library.

She had also become a frequent and honored guest at Mathers & Gardiner Imports, where her uncle Edward had recently advanced to full partner. She delighted in scouring the warehouse for hidden treasures, and was even taken on a tour of some of the merchant ships they employed, in partial compensation for auditing their ledgers, which she could do faster than any three of their clerks.

One condition Bennet strictly imposed on her admirers was to not publicize his daughter. They could talk about her among themselves, but he did not want the general public to know about her. She was, after all, still a little girl, and although his fears were not specific, he knew how easily things might get out of hand if the press got wind of her.

Still, it was impossible to completely contain the rumors about her. The Netherfield and Longbourn servants were often present during her lessons, and while they may not have understood exactly what she was doing, they could certainly hear her speak many different languages, and play the pianoforte and harp beautifully. Netherfield's steward, of course, had direct knowledge of her intelligence, for she had soaked up almost everything he could teach her about estate management and accounting that did not require direct experience in little over a month when he had tutored her. And one need only talk to her for a minute to see that this was an extraordinary little girl.

Mrs. Bennet was not happy with the attention Lizzy was receiving, but the ploy that Lady Rutherford had originally used on Mr. Bennet, namely that Jane was going to Netherfield only because of Lizzy, did double duty by persuading Mrs. Bennet not to rock the boat. She was so thrilled with the idea of Jane being in frequent company with a future duke, not to mention his noble relations, that she was willing to suffer silently (although that characterization would have surprised Mr. Bennet) over the injustice of it all. She still berated Lizzy for almost anything she did, and especially for her habit of walking hither and yon unattended, sometimes for hours at a time, on Sunday afternoons.

But Lizzy's interest in nature could not be quenched. To her mother's horror, she began bringing home samples, living and dead, of all kinds of flora and fauna that she collected on her walks. Mrs. Bennet put her foot down when a large spider escaped from his container in Lizzy's room and terrorized the maid. She banned Lizzy from bringing any more of her "specimens" into the house. Her father was more supportive, and helped Lizzy evade her mother's dictate by having a shed near the house cleared out and cleaned up, installing a workbench and a Rittenhouse stove, and then formally presenting a homemade "deed" to Lizzy, granting her its exclusive use in return for payment of one penny per annum, deducted from her allowance. Lizzy was ecstatic. The shed became her stillroom and laboratory. Mrs. Bennet protested even this, but her husband was firm.

Then one day, Lizzy approached her mother with a small flask of a clear liquid, and said shyly, "Mama, can you tell me what you think of this perfume?"

Mrs. Bennet was wary of what might be in the flask, but she unbent enough to remove the cork and waft some of the scent toward her face. Her eyes went wide, and she carefully poured a drop onto the back of her wrist and sniffed at it. It was the most heavenly scent, like nothing she had ever found in a shop. "Lizzy, where did you get this?" she asked suspiciously.

"The main ingredients are spices that I got from uncle Edward," said Lizzy carefully. "But I have also incorporated the essence of several plants I have found growing near here, including some of our own roses." She added hastily, "I only used petals that had already fallen."

"You made this yourself?" Mrs. Bennet was incredulous.

"Yes, mama," Lizzy said apprehensively.

"And can you make more of it?"

"Yes, mama, as long as the flowers are in season." Lizzy was encouraged by her mother's apparent interest, and started talking more rapidly. "Perhaps even if they are out of season, for I am experimenting with different ways of preserving the petals. I am also experimenting with different ways of storing their extracted essence. I think it likely that one of them is bound to work. And Uncle Edward says he has a reliable supplier for the spices. They are not so very expensive if I only make a little bit at a time." Lizzy held her breath.

Mrs. Bennet looked at her daughter with respect and approval for the first time in Lizzy's prodigious memory, and Lizzy immediately burst into tears.

Mrs. Bennet instinctively opened her arms and gathered Lizzy in, as Lizzy tried to contain her sobs. With a start, she realized that she could not remember ever hugging Lizzy before, and she started crying herself. "Oh Lizzy, Lizzy, what have I done?" she said, more to herself than to Lizzy.

That was a turning point in their relationship. Mrs. Bennet no longer derided Lizzy for "tramping around the countryside," as she had referred to it, and no longer looked to find fault with everything Lizzy did. Eight years of prejudice could not be overcome in a moment, but it was a good beginning.

A/N: I am extremely gratified at how kind my reviewers have been, but I urgently request that you tell me whether this is too wordy. I won't say I have never liked stories where there is one line of dialog followed by pages of introspection, but I will say that I often find myself skimming over the introspection in those stories. Yet here I am, writing pages of introspection in chapters 3 and 4. Please tell me whether you think it helped the story, or you skimmed over it, or you think it should be drastically shortened, or you think it should be cut altogether.