pride and prejudice and zombies:: dreadfull ever after

Part 12

CHAPTER 12

The Bennets hadn't been in the drawing room half a minute before Kitty noticed it. Her father was giving Lizzy that look—both affectionate and respectful, tender yet twinkling with wry amusement. And it brought the old feelings right back.

Kitty didn't want to call it jealousy. So much so, in fact, that years ago she had consulted Dr. Roget's thesaurus in search of a more palatable word for it.

Envy, no. Jaundice, no. Invidiousness, no. Horn-madness ... what?

In the end, she decided that "covetousness" would have to do. She didn't resent Lizzy. She simply wanted what her sister seemed (to her) to have won so easily. A father's esteem. A good man's love.

In the days when she and Lydia were so close that they shared between them not just ribbons and jewelry but one impetuous and petty personality, she would have stamped her foot and declared, "It's not fair! Lizzy always gets what she wants!" But she was older now and trying to be wiser, and her sister needed her help. The time had come for Kitty to prove she was worthy of what she coveted.

"You should have seen the Fulcrum of Doom I gave that first ninja!" she cackled. "I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his little black pajamas!"

Elizabeth offered her a rather strained smile. "Master Liu would be proud."

"Yes. Well. Carrying on," Mr. Bennet said. "Once they saw that we would not surrender our weapons voluntarily, they went to the extraordinary length of explaining themselves."

Nezu was standing not far from the elegant divans upon which the Bennets had settled themselves, and Mr. Bennet paused to arch an eyebrow in his direction.

"I can understand the likes of Lady Catherine de Bourgh demanding obedience even when cooperation might be won by a moment's consultation, but when their lackeys act with the same presumption, it only leads to trouble."

"And to a good Fulcrum of Doom! La!"

Kitty couldn't help but notice the degree to which she was ignored—which was total—and she immediately resolved to "La!" no more.

"As I explained earlier to your father and sister," Nezu said to Elizabeth, "none of you can be seen carrying arms into the house. It is a black mark against the Shevingtons already that they are new to wealth and lack obvious social connections. They would not curry further disfavor by displaying too bold a fondness for combat. I'm sure I need not remind you that, with a few notable exceptions, those who practice the deadly arts in England are largely viewed as eccentrics or outsiders ... especially when it is a woman who picks up the sword."

Kitty bridled. Who was this presumptuous little man to call her an eccentric outsider?

She held back her devastating retort, however. Not that she'd thought of one yet. But, she realized, there was no point in trying. He was right.

"So that is why you were summoned here," Lizzy said to her father. "We are all to be Shevingtons."

Mr. Bennet nodded. "It seems each of us has a part to play in the little melodrama Lady Catherine has arranged. What I don't as yet know is why."

"Yes, Lizzy, you must tell us! What has happened to Darcy?"

For the first time in as long as she could remember, Kitty thought her sister might cry. Elizabeth Darcy had emotions after all! She felt something other than satisfaction at an enemy's death or amusement at another's foibles! It was a revelation.

Lizzy quickly composed herself and began pouring forth the sad tale: how Darcy, distracted by a disagreement between them, had been bitten by a dreadful where no amputation could save him.