Part I - Cavalier Jack Takes On ... Elizabeth Bennet

Posted on Thursday, 23 February 2006

The smallish woods outside of Longbourn were mercifully silent, compared to Mrs. Bennet's shrill caterwauling about her nerves and the great disservice done to them by Mr. Bennet and his refusal to call on the newest neighbours, a gentleman by the name of Mr. Bingley and his guests. Elizabeth did not particularly care one way or another if Mr. Bennet called on the Netherfield party today, tomorrow, or next week; in a town the size of Meryton the chances of remaining outside of their acquaintance were slim.

As she walked, Lizzy paid little attention to the surrounding wilderness, until she was forced to. At the same moment her foot landed on the soft carpet of leaves a furry body shot through the underbrush toward the lawn and subsequently to the sunken birdbath.

"Aha, I've got you now, you pesky little beast! Haha, lunch!"

To say that she was astonished would be an understatement worthy of an award; there were no people in the garden area, yet she had heard a distinctly human, and male, voice. Before she could muse further on the possibility that presented itself, the furred creature took one step too many and landed with an unceremonious splash in the pool. Further splashing and undignified cursing followed, though muffled, as the being emerged, looking somewhat like a large drowned rat and carrying a similar rodent in its mouth.

"Hello?" Lizzy said, stepping out of the trees and cautiously, as might befit a young lady approaching a soaking feline, especially one that seemed to have the ability to speak.

The cat looked up, causing Lizzy to retreat a step. She had not wholly expected a reaction of any kind, and this one in particular upset her. One glittering green eye was missing, covered by a worn leather patch. The utter absurdity of a cat wearing an eye patch almost outweighed the unreal possibility that such an animal could speak, but only almost.

"Hello," the cat said, observing the young woman for a moment before shaking much of the water from his fur. "Please, ignore me for a moment. I'm not presentable."

Lizzy could only blink at his response, but obliged and watched silently as he began to groom himself, leaving his meal in the grass. She was certain this was a dream. How else could a cat speak, let alone ask for a moment of privacy to bathe himself? She must have fallen asleep while her mother continued her lamentations.

A small pinch to the inside of her arm reminded her of the reality of the moment. This was reality, there was no doubt.

"Please forgive my rudeness," she said at long last, unable to remain silent. "But who are you, what are you, and what are you doing in my garden?"

The cat paused in his bath, pink tongue rasping along his paw.

"For your first question, my name is Cavalier Jack. The second, I am a cat, as I'm sure you've noticed." The gleam in his eye was positively wicked, and Elizabeth had little doubt that he was grinning. "As for your third question: Whatever I damn well want."

"I beg your pardon!" His language was certainly unexpected, and his own rudeness bordering on unforgivable.

"I'm a cat, lady. Since when has a cat ever been polite?"

Lizzy had to admit that his words had a ring of truth to them.

"But- How is it that we are conversing? I have yet to meet a cat with such a vocal ability."

"Dunno. Don't care. Isn't it enough that I do?"

Every fibre of her being screamed at Lizzy to move on and ignore the creature. The entire situation was bizarre and impossible, but there she was, conversing with a cat. Such an incident would have been unbelievable even on the most fantastic stages in London!

"Now, it seems to me that I've been perfectly agreeable and answered your questions, lady. Think you could at least tell me your name?"

"Elizabeth Bennet," the woman stammered, her mind reeling. "I am afraid I do not understand this at all."

"You're not meant to understand it, Betsy," the cat said. He regarded his meal with distaste. "You're simply meant to accept it. There's not much else you can do."

"I most certainly do not have to accept it! You are simply a figment of my imagination, perhaps brought on by..." An appropriate explanation was not forthcoming, and Elizabeth was left silent.

"Indigestion? Eh, it's a good enough thing that you don't trust your eyes, or ears. A little bit of insight goes a long way." He looked up at her again. "Look, I'm not going to bite you. You'll have to trust me that I'm not an incarnation of something evil, although I'm sure some of the people I've crossed will say otherwise. The point is that I'm here for however long, for whatever reason, and I'd rather not have to deal with any unnecessary stupidity."

"They you may want to move on," Lizzy said, then clasped a hand over her mouth. "I should not have said that."

"Ooh, but you did!" The cat's tone was contemplative. "Hmm. Well, I suppose a certain amount of stupidity can be dealt with. Your family, I take it?"

She was hesitant to answer, but determined that she was unlikely to be overheard. "Silly more than stupid. Yes. My mother..."

"Say no more. I'm generally a housecat, Miss Bennet. A small corner by a fireplace is all I really want, a little fish or better still, chicken. Table scraps, really. You won't even notice me."

"Somehow I doubt that." However unreal the situation, Elizabeth Bennet was beginning to accept it, just as the cat said. She was even beginning to look forward to the scheme, such as it was. "But- How shall I explain you?"

"How do you mean? You don't make a habit of adopting strays?"

"Well, no, I don't, but your particular talents are peculiar at best."

"Ah, I see." Having warmed and dried himself as best he could, Cavalier Jack stood and stretched. "I've found that if one person acts like it's nothing special, the rest will find nothing unusual about it. You'll see."

"I do not, as a matter of fact," Elizabeth said, "But I suspect that I will soon enough."

"Attagirl, that's the spirit! This'll be fun, trust me."

Elizabeth shook her head and returned to the house, Cavalier Jack following slowly in his own relaxed saunter, the rat forgotten. Mrs. Bennet had moved on to a new topic, Mr. Bingley and his friends momentarily forgotten in her latest lamentation. Whatever would she say about a talking cat entering the household?