Posted on Tuesday, 31 October 2006

There was a loud crash in the room as the book Marianne Dashwood had been reading skidded to the floor. Kayleanor, her elder sister, looked up from the darning she was working on. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

"I'm bored," Marianne sulked.

"You were the one who insisted upon reading." Instead of offering to help with the darning.

"I wasn't expecting the book to be so boring," she whined. "Lud, why is everything so boring here? There is nothing to do!"

Kayleanor raised an eyebrow, and then pushed the basket at her feet forward with her toe. "There's plenty of mending to be done, if you'd like."

If there was anything Marianne hated, it was being useful. And this included sewing. "I really should give this book another chance," Marianne said as she hastened to retrieve the book she'd only seconds before sent tumbling to the floor. "Colonel Brandon recommended it to me himself, and I know he'll want to discuss it when he visits next."

"I didn't know you were in the habit of listening to anything Colonel Brandon had to say."

Marianne wrinkled her nose. "I'm not."

Marianne was no fan of the Colonel's. He might be considered "quite the catch" around these parts of the Himalayas, but Marianne wasn't a Yeti and she considered herself a cut above the rest. She shaved.

In and out her sister's needle went. Marianne sat mesmerized watching Kayleanor mend a hole in their youngest sister's dress. Margaret was a tomboy and with her predilection for scaling mountains and joining in all the Yeti games, her clothes were in a constant state of required repair. "You know, speaking of Yetis, if we learned to grow hair as they do we could do away with having to wear clothes and thus alleviate the need to ever mend clothes."

Kayleanor only managed a roll of the eyes. It was a customary reaction to anything her sister said. "Good heavens, Marianne. You make it sound as if the Yetis are complete savages when you know perfectly well that even Yetis wear clothes."

But not fashionable ones, Marianne thought smugly. Still, she sighed. Kayleanor, she knew, would defend the Yetis until her dying day. It was misplaced gratitude, that's what it was, Marianne mused. For you see, the Dashwood family had not always resided in the foreign Himalayas. In fact, there had been a time when they too had walked the streets of London, danced under the dazzling lights of the most fashionable ballrooms, and taken tea in some of the most elite salons. But the inevitable had happened, her father passed away, and she, her sisters, and mother were left to the mercy of her half brother, John Dashwood.

Or rather, their evil half-sister-in-law. Everyone knew, except for their brother perhaps, that it was Fanny Dashwood who truly wore the pantaloons in that marriage. Therefore, it was no surprise to anyone when she convinced her husband that all his stepmother and half-sisters would need to survive the world was a measly two hundred pounds per annum. Unsurprising as this turn of events might have been, it did not stop the Dashwood women from being relegated to the status of Poor Relations.

Which was unfortunate because nobody wanted to associate with Poor Relations. There was an unspoken fear that the condition might somehow be contagious. Thus, out of superstition and fear, the Dashwood women found themselves outcast from society. It truly was unfair and they were hardly the only ones in such a position. At the time, Marianne had even suggested that they align themselves with other similarly situated Poor Relations and form a society. Friends of Poor Relations it would have been named and its members called Fuppers. Kayleanor had rolled her eyes then too and said, "Don't be so dramatic, Marianne."

It was their mother who had, to the surprise of all the daughters, risen to the occasion and found a solution to their nearly impoverished state. Following the demise of her husband, Mrs. Dashwood wrote letters to all her relatives seeking advice and assistance. Mrs. Dashwood had an extensive and convoluted family tree, and like any family in England there existed an eccentric. A Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy who was a scientist and several years previously departed for the Himalayas to study the Yeti culture. What nobody anticipated was that he would fall in love with said subject and marry one of them.

He was happy, he wrote to his seventh cousin thrice removed, and he felt his cousin and her daughters would be happy in the Himalayas too. He invited them to come and live in his Yeti Cottage in Yetishire. He and his wife and newborn half-Yeti son had recently moved into a bigger Yeti Estate, and their old Yeti Cottage was sitting empty. The women were welcome to stay there gratis.

Mrs. Dashwood discussed it with her daughters. Marianne railed against the idea. There would be no assemblies, no balls, and no men. It would be a bore. Not to mention, it would be really, really cold. They weren't made of fur, you know.

It was a financial opportunity not to be missed, Kayleanor pointed out. With no house to pay for, they would be able to live comfortably off the small pittance their half-brother had allotted them. And, with no money, it wasn't as if they would be able to entertain guests even if they did remain in England anyway. Practicality won in the end, and the Dashwoods packed up their small household, dismissed what few servants they still had, and moved halfway across the world to the Himalayas.

Margaret, it should be noted, had been neither for nor against the Himalayas. "So long as there are trees to climb wherever we live, I shall be happy," she was heard to have said.

So here they were, Marianne thought as she flung herself prostrate onto the couch, with no parties, no balls, just lots and lots of hairy Yetis everywhere. And one of them freakishly intent upon her. "I hope the Bennets haven't invited Colonel Brandon to dinner again tonight," she said aloud, rather suddenly.

Kayleanor looked up from the hem she'd been stitching. "They have for the last three Sundays. I can't imagine why they shouldn't tonight."

When they moved to Yetishire, their cousin's in-laws invited them to share their Sunday dinner. "With two of my daughters married now, I lack for pretty, single ladies at my table. Do say you'll come," Mrs. Bennet had insisted. Seeing as they depended on their cousin's generosity and he seemed desperate for them to say yes - "A change of scenery at the dinner table will be most welcome," Cousin Darcy had whispered to them on the sly - it seemed impolitic to refuse that first time she'd invited them. Only, one dinner turned into two. And two became three. By the fourth week, Sunday dinner with the Bennets was a regular habit.

That's when Mrs. Bennet started the matchmaking process by trotting through her dining room a new gentleman each week. Only, they weren't really gentlemen, Marianne was always quick to point out. They were Yetis.

"I'll never understand what it is you find so objectionable about Colonel Brandon," Kayleanor continued. "Indeed he is perfectly amiable and is quick to look out for you. Why, just last Sunday, did he not insist upon serving you the finest piece of meat?"

"He claimed it was because I was 'too skinny.' Not slender, not petite, but skinny! Kayleanor, he said I needed 'fattening up!'" Marianne's voice left no doubt that she was outraged at the suggestion.

"Well, by a Yeti's standard . . ."

"Argh!" she screamed. "Must you always defend them so? I don't understand you, Kayleanor. If you're so determined to like the Colonel, then why don't you take him for yourself?" Having said so, she pushed herself off from the couch and stormed out of the room, leaving her book behind.

With Marianne gone, Kayleanor returned to her sewing. "If only he would look in my direction," she sighed in thought. She'd been entranced by his handsome looks ever since their first meeting - the way his sash hung from his shoulder and crossed to his opposite hip, with the red color shining brilliantly against the dark color of his fur. The mere thought of his curly, woolen fur sent Kayleanor's fingers a tingling. She willed herself to bring herself back under control. She'd never be able to look him in the eye at dinner that evening if she did not. Besides, he was in love with her sister.

How typical.

When the Dashwoods made their way to Yetibourn for dinner with the Bennets and the Darcys, they were met at the front gate by the youngest Bennet daughter, Jennifydia. "You won't believe who has come to dinner tonight!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down next to Marianne.

Much to the second youngest Bennet sister, Crytty's, dismay, Marianne and Jennifydia had become instant best friends. Crytty was accustomed to playing that role in her younger sister's life, and to be suddenly cast aside it was not a pleasant feeling. But Jennifydia could not see how she'd hurt her sister; instead, she saw only a friend who'd actually graced the dance floors of London and was actually up to date on all the current fashions abroad.

"Who?" Marianne asked.

"Guess!"

"Erm . . ."

"I'm sure we'll never guess," Kayleanor interrupted dryly. "It's not as if you have afforded us any clues."

"Well then I shall tell you, for you shall never guess anyway," Jennifydia announced, not once recognizing that she'd just been handed a snub. "We have not one, but two guests this evening."

"Oh dear. One of them isn't Colonel Brandon is it?"

"I should think not!" Jennifydia actually sounded surprised by the suggestion. "There wasn't room for him at the dinner table what with two guests coming this evening, so Mama had to dis-invite him."

"That seems rather rude," Kayleanor interjected.

Jennifydia and Marianne shared pained glances. "One must do what one must in situations such as this. I mean, we can have Colonel Brandon over any time. But, two gentlemen from England at one's dinner table? How often can a hostess boast that?"

"Aren't both your brothers-in-law Englishmen? I would think your mother has plenty to boast already. She has two Englishmen at her dinner table regularly."

"Oh never mind that, Kayleanor," Marianne interrupted crossly. "Must you be so literal and technical about everything? Jennifydia, you say you have two Englishmen coming to dinner this evening?"

"Yes, exciting isn't it? They've just arrived in the Himalayas, and we're the first family to host them! Mama made father run over to Yeti Hall and introduce himself so that she could be first in line to invite them for dinner. Having had so much success with the last pair of foreigners, you can be sure she's quite hopeful for a second round. I say, you and your sister might even know them."

"Fellow countrymen? Here? In the Himalayas? In Yetishire? Oh, who might they be?" Marianne immediately queried. Just the thought that they might be someone come to rescue her from this desolate place had set her heart racing.

"A Mr. George Wickham and his dashing friend, Mr. John Willoughby. Do you know them?"

Marianne frowned. "No, their names are not familiar." She sought assistance from her sister who also shook her head, and said, "Much as it pains you, I know, sister but we don't know every gentleman in all of England."

"Well no matter," Marianne said, brightening instantly as she realized that just because she didn't know them didn't mean they couldn't still be persuaded to take her back to England when they left the Himalayas. She shook out her skirts and straightened the ribbons on her bonnet. "We shall meet them now, and if I don't make at least one of them fall in love with me in the first quarter hour, then my name is not Marianne Dashwood! Come Jennifydia! Come Kayleanor! It's to the battlefield we go!"

"Lord preserve us all," Kayleanor muttered heavenwards as she followed the two, silly and giggling girls into the house.

It was as Marianne predicted and desired. By the end of evening, Willoughby had requested and been granted permission to call on her on the morrow. He was all she could talk about on their walk back to Yeti Cottage.

"Did you see how fine his clothes were, Kayleanor? Was he not an eloquent speaker, Kayleanor? Oh, what a gentleman he was, Kayleanor! Did you not see the way he helped Vickary into her seat? Oh, to have been as fortunate as her and sit next to him at dinner. Why, I'm sure Vickary didn't appreciate it one whit. She's only interested in grooming her fur. She's obsessed with split ends, not men, and wouldn't recognize a proper gentleman if he landed on her lap!

"Did you know, she sings to her fur? Jennifydia told me. Vickary seems to think that singing to her fur and cultivating a relationship with every strand will actually help them grow. But that's not the worst part. Jennifydia also tells me that Vickary's singing is dreadful. The whole family must keep cotton balls for their ears at the ready for you never know when she'll be struck with an urge to sing to her fur.

"Also, did you notice the way Vickary kept looking down at her plate during dinner?" Kayleanor nodded. "That's because her father forbade her from bringing a comb and mirror to the dinner table ever again. He said it was unsanitary the way her fur kept flying into her neighbors' plates and he wasn't going to stand for it anymore. But Vickary can't abide a half an hour away from her mirror though, so she persuaded Cook to line her dinner plate with her hand held mirror. Kayleanor, she was eating off her mirror. With her so entirely focused on her dinner plate, sitting her next to Mr. Willoughby was a complete waste. It should have been me."

"I daresay you made out well situated as you were across from Mr. Willoughby. It didn't seem to matter one whit that you were not sitting next to him."

"Yes," Marianne sighed dreamily. "I suppose you're right. Do you think he will call first thing in the morrow?"

"I daresay we'll find out tomorrow morning."

As it happened, Willoughby did show up as promised. With him, he brought Jennifydia and Wickham. "Come on!" Jennifydia called to Marianne from the doorway. "The men have bought their sleigh and have promised us a ride."

Kayleanor did not think this wise. A single woman and a single Yeti, without chaperone, in a sleigh with two gentlemen? It was not seemly. What would their neighbors think? "Perhaps you should all come in and have tea, instead."

"But I want to ride in a sleigh!"

"This would not be your first time in a sleigh," Kayleanor said quietly through clenched teeth.

"But this would be my first time in a sleigh with Willoughby," Marianne returned, also through clenched teeth.

"I hardly think Mother would approve of this."

"But Mother's not home to forbid it, is she? And you are not Mother."

Weary of having to wait for even five minutes, Jennifydia called out whiningly, "Marianne, are you joining us or not? And why are you both talking with your teeth bared like that? You humans are a funny lot, or is that the fashionable thing to do? Oh, I bet it's all the rage in London, isn't it? And you've been keeping it a secret from me all these months, Marianne! Shame on you. I shall be mindful to speak with my teeth clenched together, starting from now. What do you think, Wicky? Am I not attractive thus?"

A hairy Yeti baring her teeth at him . . . attractive was not the first adjective that came to Wickham's mind. Still, for the purpose of his and Willoughby's trip to this part of the Himalayas it behooved him to play the part of the suitor and agree. "I daresay I've never seen anything more attractive than you."

Jennifydia batted her eyelashes. "La, you flatter me so."

"Ahem." It was Marianne's turn to be impatient, and just a little bit envious of the attention her friend was receiving. Willoughby should be paying her such compliments; she'd have to make sure of it once they were sitting side-by-side in the sleigh. "Are we going or are we going to stand around and inspect your teeth all morning long?"

"Oh, of course. Come, men! To your sleighs we away!"

Suddenly alone in the sitting room, Kayleanor sighed and sat back down. Trying to control her sister was a hopeless business. Ah well, it was time Marianne learned her own lessons. Picking up Margaret's sock, she continued her darning. She had just started on the second sock when Colonel Brandon rushed in, "Miss Dashwood!"

Kayleanor rushed to her feet; Margaret's socks fell to the ground. "C-Co-C-Colonel Brandon! We - I - Oh dear." She patted at her hair and smoothed the wrinkles in her skirt. "I was not expecting you this morning!"

"Forgive me, Miss Dashwood. Is Miss Marianne here?"

The flutter that had been in her heart stopped and disappeared. Of course. He was here for Marianne, not her. Stupid Kayleanor. When would she ever learn? "No, I'm afraid she is not. I don't know when she'll return, else I'd invite you to have a seat and wait."

The Colonel commenced pacing around the room. Only, with his heavy Yeti feet it was more like he commenced stomping around the room. "It is as I feared. I am too late. As soon as I heard though, I rushed over."

Kayleanor watched Colonel Brandon in confusion. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I've not the pleasure of understanding you. Is something amiss?"

"Your sister. She is in the company of a Mr. Willoughby? Mr. John Willoughby?"

"Why yes. How did you know?"

Colonel Brandon spun around so quickly the tails of his sash went flying in the wind. Kayleanor watched them avidly and once again mused at how handsome the crimson sash looked against his dark fur.

"He is not a man to be trusted."

"I beg your pardon?" She'd been sidetracked by the sash and missed his comment.

"This Willoughby fellow. He is a very bad man," the Colonel explained somewhat impatiently. "Your sister must be warned. We must find her immediately and return her to safety."

"What exactly has Mr. Willoughby done that has you all in uproar? Indeed, I have met him and other than encouraging Marianne to have a total disregard for social decorum I find no fault in his character or behavior."

Colonel Brandon stared at her. "Encouraging your sister to behave improperly is not enough?"

"Well, it gave me pause at first but then on reflection, Jennifydia Bennet and Mr. Wickham are also with them so it's not as if they are entirely without chaperone on this sleigh ride of theirs. Of course, Jennifydia and Mr. Wickham are also unmarried and, therefore, are not proper chaperones, but really Colonel, do you think Marianne is going to become a social outcast simply because she showed poor judgment in entering a sleigh hired by two gentlemen with no chaperone but only a similarly situated single female as her companion?"

Colonel Brandon continued staring at her. "What are you talking about?!"

"Didn't you rush over here because you'd heard that Marianne had gone on a sleigh ride with Jennifydia Bennet, Mr. George Wickham, and Mr. John Willoughby sans chaperone?"

"No! I've come to warn you that Mr. Willoughby and Mr. Wickham are here to steal your sister and Miss Bennet and take them back to London!"

"Oh, well Marianne will like that. She's been wanting to return to England ever since we stepped foot on Himalayan snow." The lucky brat. She always gets what she wants. How does she manage that? "I suspect Jennifydia will like that idea as well, though really you have to wonder: is a Yeti really going to fit in London? I mean, imagine her walking into a shop in Bond Street and asking a modiste to fit her. It's a laughable image, really!"

Colonel Brandon frowned. Miss Dashwood kept spouting nonsense. Where was the women filled with sense with whom he was accustomed to conversing. "I fear we are not speaking of the same thing, Miss Dashwood. When I used the term 'steal' I did not mean to suggest that the men were hear to elope with your sister and Miss Bennet and return to London with wives by their side. Rather, they intend upon exposing them."

Kayleanor dropped back into her seat in shock. "Explain yourself, please." Her voice was shook and her hands trembled as she reached and fumbled to retrieve her sister's socks.

The Colonel reached down and helped her with the socks before taking his own seat across from her. "I see I should have started from the beginning, but I beg of you. What I am about to reveal to you, it concerns the secret affairs of my family. Were it not for your sister's safety now at stake I would not divulge my family secrets but I think I must. You will be discreet with the information I am now about to share with you?"

"Of course."

"Very well. I have a niece, you see, who used to live on the other side of the Himalayas in Yetiton. She was a pretty little thing, vibrant, friendly, the adoration of all her friends and family. Your sister reminds me a great deal of my niece actually."

"You speak of her in the past tense, she's . . .?"

"When she was a few years younger than your sister, she was swept off her feet by a gentleman from England. He claimed to be on a tour of the continent but had been so dazzled by the snowcap mountains of the Himalayas that he had been persuaded to stay for several months. During this time, he courted my niece and made her fall in love with him. Then he persuaded her to return to England with him. She inquired as to whether they would be married here first; he convinced her that they should be married in England because he wanted his family present. He told her he came from a family of money and social prominence and would therefore insist upon a Society wedding. My niece was dazzled by everything he told her and readily agreed to this plan.

"Though he had instructed her to keep everything a secret, my niece couldn't resist sharing her good news with her favorite uncle and so wrote me a letter. She wanted me to visit so that I might see her one last time before she traveled to England. I was still in the Yeti Militia at the time and though it was not easy, I shifted my duties around so that I could rush to be by my niece's side. Thank goodness I did. What I walked in on was less than pleasant. Her suitor had discovered her betrayal and afraid of my imminent arrival had decided that they must return to England post haste. My arrival was not a second too soon. I caught him in the midst of crating my niece."

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, precisely," Colonel Brandon said, reacting to the outrage in Kayleanor's voice. "He'd put my niece in a crate for the trip back to England. As you've probably surmised by now, he had no intention of making my niece his bride. Never did. Instead, he wanted to take my niece back to England so she could be an act for his circus show. That's why he had come to the Himalayas in the first place. He was a circus owner.

"I exposed his nefarious plot at once and retrieved my niece. He escaped and returned to England. My niece, on the other hand, was not so fortunate. Though I saved her from the life of a circus freak, the damage was already done. She was embarrassed and ruined, and couldn't bear to return to society. She was also heartbroken, having convinced herself she was in love with this Englishman and he with her. Unable to go on as a recluse with a broken heart, she committed suicide."

Kayleanor gasped. "Oh dear. I'm so sorry, Colonel Brandon. I'd no idea."

"It's all right. She's been gone for five years now. It hurts less and less every year."

"And this gentleman from England, this circus owner, he was Mr. Willoughby?"

"No."

"Then why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because it was Mr. Wingling."

Now Kayleanor truly was confused. "I fear you lost me at 'no.'"

"Mr. John Wingling was the Englishmen who seduced my cousin. Having used this name once already in the Himalayas, he could hardly return under the same, even if he was visiting a different part of the mountains. Instead, he's now traveling under the name John Willoughby and brought his younger brother. I understand you've met him as well."

"George Wickham?"

"The very one. It appears the brothers have not yet given up on their notion to have a Yeti as part of their circus act."

All of the sudden, the puzzle pieces started falling into place. "If John Willoughby is in fact John Wingling, that must mean George Wickham is actually George Wingling. They are brothers. The Wingling Brothers! Of course! I have heard of them," Kayleanor exclaimed. "They have a traveling circus and in recent years have become quite fashionable. I heard they had a show at Covent Garden soon after we left England."

"It would not surprise me to hear it. They are an enterprising duo, but they are not men of honor."

"It certainly does not sound that way at all."

"Now you see why I am so eager to rescue your sister from his clutches."

"What about Jennifydia Bennet?"

"I have already spoken to her family. At first, her mother was resistant to the idea. I think she was still clutching to the hope and dream that Mr. Wickham might become her third son-in-law. Mr. Darcy, thank goodness, was visiting his father-in-law and was able to provide support. It appears that though he had never met the Wingling Brothers in England, he had also heard they were men of ill repute and convinced Mr. Bennet to put his foot down. Once Miss Bennet returns from their sleigh ride, she will not be allowed further contact with Mr. Wickham.

"It was from the Bennets that I learned your sister was also on this sleigh ride. Until I visited them, I was not aware that you were acquainted with the brothers. I should have known though when I learned this morning that they were guests at the Bennets' house yesterday evening."

"It is good of you to warn the Bennets before something disastrous can occur, but Colonel I am still confused on one point. I can see why the Wingling Brothers would be interested in Jennifydia, but my sister. She is not a Yeti."

"No, but she has lived amongst them and would therefore know how they act and behave. The fact that your sister is not actually a Yeti would be of inconsequence for their purpose. Remember, these are not men of honesty. They would have no problem duping their customers. No, indeed they would not."

"But she still doesn't look like a Yeti. You aren't suggesting that -"

"Yes, I'm afraid I am. Even as we speak they are in the process of fashioning a Yeti costume for your sister. Before I went to the Bennets', I stopped by the Yeti Inn and demanded entrance to their rooms. I found the beginnings of a Yeti costume draped over a chair. It did not make sense until after I'd visited the Bennets' and learned about your sister. Kidnapping your sister and enslaving her to a life as a fake-Yeti for their circus is the only thing I can surmise from their actions."

"And with Marianne desperate to return to England, she is the prime candidate for their plot. She's a hopeless romantic. She'll never have enough sense to see through their actions!" All of the sudden Kayleanor burst into large, hiccupping tears. "My sister! She is lost to me forever!"

Colonel Brandon rushed to her side. Draping a comforting arm around her shoulder and handing her his handkerchief, he soothed, "Now, now, Miss Dashwood. All is not yet lost. There is still time to warn your sister."

"You don't understand Marianne if you believe it as simple as that. She doesn't listen to anybody. Our disapproval of Mr. Willoughby, I mean Mr. Wingling, will only make her more determined to see the positive in him. She thinks any man who lays eyes upon her falls in love with her."

"This one hasn't," the Colonel muttered under his breath.

Thinking she'd heard what she'd heard, but not sure if she had as it had been said so softly and she had been gulping for large breaths thanks to her tears, Kayleanor paused. "I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing. I was simply stating that we must try. For Marianne's sake. We must try and make her see sense."

As Kayleanor predicted, trying to make Marianne see sense was easier said than done. "Marianne, you must believe me. Mr. Willoughby is not what he seems."

"No, I refuse to listen to you malign Mr. Willoughby in this manner anymore, Kayleanor. I'm disappointed in you that you would be so jealous of his attentions to me that you would stoop to such lies, and at poor Mr. Willoughby's expense. How can you go about ruining his reputation thus?"

"I'm not jealous," Kayleanor cried exasperatedly. "I'm telling you the truth! Colonel Brandon and Cousin Darcy have both -"

"NO!" Marianne clasped hands over her ears and shaking her head cried, "NO! I will not listen anymore. You are all jealous!"

"Yes, I am sure both Colonel Brandon and our Cousin wish to elope to England with Mr. Willoughby. They are insane with jealousy, and Cousin Elizabeth is wondering where she went wrong when she married Cousin Darcy and had a half-Yeti with him as he now desires to return to England with another man."

Marianne stomped her feet. "You know what I meant. But make fun of me if you wish, Kayleanor; I shall have the last laugh. When I'm living in England in my grand Estate and you want to come visit, I shall not let you. No, you shall be forever consigned to a life here in Yetishire. Now what do you think of me?"

Her sister's answer was a somber one. "I think you very childish and sad, Marianne. It disappoints me to see you behave in this manner. But I can see you will not listen to me and see reason, so on this subject I shall be silent and say no more."

Having said her piece, Kayleanor exited her sister's bedchamber and went about her own business. The next morning, when Willoughby came to call on Marianne she did not try to stop her sister. She was, however, out in the garden with Margaret picking holly berries and was therefore present when he came to fetch her in his sleigh.

"Where are Jennifydia and Mr. Wickham?" Marianne asked.

"I hope you don't mind, but I wished to spend the morning alone in your company," Willoughby answered smoothly.

More like you have already called on the Bennets and discovered that Jennifydia has not been allowed in your company anymore, Kayleanor thought to herself.

"Of course I don't mind!" Kayleanor could practically hear the batting of her sister's eyelashes in Marianne's voice. She tried not to retch over all the holly bushes.

Just as Willoughby had picked up the reins and was about to send the horses racing, who should arrive but Colonel Brandon himself, "Wringling! We meet again!"

Inside the sleigh, Willoughby blanched. "Er. Colonel Brandon! I was not aware that you resided in Yetishire."

"Wringling? Who is Wringling?" Marianne cried confusedly.

"Your evil plot comes to an end now, Wringling! Release Miss Dashwood and return her to her family!"

"Never! I will never let her go! We must have a Yeti - fake or real - for our circus act!" Committed to the end, Willoughby/Wringling cracked his whip and raced out of the courtyard. Colonel Brandon was forced to move his horse one step backwards or be trampled to death, but he was not about to give. "Kayleanor! Come! We must stop them!"

Dropping her basket and calling out instructions to Margaret over her shoulder, "Run inside and tell Mother that Colonel Brandon and I have run after Marianne," Kayleanor rushed to the Colonel's side. As she neared his horse, he reached down and said, "Give me your hand!" The minute their hands touched, he wrapped his broad hand around her dainty wrist and hauled her up effortlessly in front of him. She was breathless as she Colonel Brandon's arms came around her and she sank against his chest. "Hold on tight," he yelled against the wind as he sent his horse racing after the sleigh.

In front of them, they could see Willoughby/Wringling looking back every so often to see how much of a lead he had. Not much. Beside him, Marianne realized too late that she should've listened to her sister. She started to beat her fists against him, demanding that he let her go. She was no match for him Willoughby/Wringling as he fended off her blows with one hand while keeping his other firmly gripped around the rein.

Willoughby/Wringling was no match, however, for the sharp and angular curves that wrapped around the Himalayan Mountains. He was traveling too quickly to retain control of his sleigh. As a particularly sharp curve came up, the back of his sleigh skidded and went flying off the mountain. From behind them, Kayleanor and Colonel Brandon watched in horror as the sleigh carrying Marianne and Willoughby/Wringling went flying off the mountain.

Colonel Brandon pulled on his horse at once and expertly skidded them to a brake just in front of the ledge. Dismounting quickly, they scrambled to the mountain's edge and peered over. They were too late. Marianne and Willoughby/Wringling were gone already. The sleigh had plunged its passengers to a terrifying death off the Himalayan Mountains.

As Kayleanor burst into tears, a large weight settled over the Colonel's chest. He'd failed in his mission.

Epilogue

Posted on October 31, 2006

Kayleanor's rose-colored silk skirt rustled as she entered the breakfast room. It was the first time in a year she'd worn anything but cotton and mourning colors. It'd been a difficult year following Marianne's death, but she was finally at peace with everything. She was looking forward to her first day post-mourning.

She'd no sooner sat down than Colonel Brandon was announced. Though the hour was early, Kayleanor was not overly surprised. He'd been a constant visitor over the year, sharing in the pain of Marianne's death and then the healing process. Kayleanor no longer hoped that he might look in her direction; she'd long resigned herself to the role of a sister in his eyes, though the sight of him in that red sash never failed to send a stirring within.

"I beg your pardon, I hope I'm not calling too early, but I needed to see you first thing this morning."

"Of course not. It's never too early for you to call, Colonel. Why, you're practically family. Come, you must not have eaten calling as early as you have; you will take your breakfast with me."

The Colonel's heart sang as he heard her describe him as practically family. "Certainly, I'd love nothing more than to share your breakfast. But first, there is something I must ask you."

"All right."

"Kayleanor, I've waited a year to ask you this question. I cannot wait any longer. Would you consent to be my wife?"

To say that she was shocked and surprised would have been an understatement. "Indeed I cannot!"

The Colonel's heart, which has been singing only seconds before, croaked and died under a crushing blow of disappointment. "No, of course not. How stupid of me. You would not want to marry your sister's executioner."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I know you still hold me responsible for your sister's death. I don't blame you for not wanting to marry me. You would look at me every day and think of how I failed your sister."

"Indeed I do not hold you responsible for Marianne's death, nor have I ever thought that you failed my sister in any way. In this past year, what I have come to accept is that Marianne is responsible for her own death. We did all we could in warning her about Mr. Wingling. She refused to listen. She claimed to be a romantic; she was senseless. She would ride in that sleigh with him though I warned her about being seen alone with him without a proper chaperone, and then she would go with him a second time even after I'd revealed to her all that you'd told me about Mr. Wingling's character. So, no Colonel Brandon, that is not why I will not marry you."

"Then may I inquire as to why you will not have me? Is it because I'm a Yeti? And I'm hairy? I was hoping that wasn't the reason. You never seemed to hold it against me that I was not exactly the same as you."

"Of course I don't mind that you're a Yeti. And I don't think you're hairy at all. In fact, I rather like it." She blushed. "No, the reason I cannot marry you is because I refuse to be a substitute for my sister!"

"A substitute?" Colonel Brandon sounded genuinely perplexed.

"Were you not in love with my sister before she died?"

The Colonel laughed. "My apologies," he said when he saw Kayleanor was not laughing with him. "I mean no disrespect to your sister's memory, it's just that - no. I was never in love with your sister. It's always been you, didn't you know?"

"Um. No."

Kayleanor's relief was profound as the Colonel explained that any emotion he might have felt towards Marianne had always been a paternal one. "I believe I once told you she reminded me of my niece. With me recalling my niece every time I saw your sister, you can hardly expect me to have been attracted to her." He did have a point, Kayleanor realized. "No, the reason I called as often as I did and accepted all of Mrs. Bennet's dinner invitations was so that I might see more of you." Here, Kayleanor's heart soared. "I've long admired your mental acumen as much as your physical beauty; in short, Kayleanor, you're all I've ever looked for in a woman. Please, relieve my suffering and consent to be my wife."

They waited only long enough for the banns to be read before they were wed. Nine months to the day, they were the second couple in the Himalayan community to have a half-Yeti. It was a girl. You know what that means, don't you?

From their cradles . . .

Author's Note:

This story is a continuation of last year's Yeti theme: Yeti & Yetidice. It is just as silly and nonsensical as last year's entry. And it is dedicated to Katharina (Kay) who indefatigably cracks the whip so that we have something to post on this day. Credit goes to Sietske for this year's title.

The End