Posted on Monday, 22 June 1998

Author's note: This is a meeting between Austen's two most improper heroines. They also happen to be my two favorite heroines. Hang on tight, folks, as this could get interesting. You could also be bored to death--it depends on how well I write it. Proceed and judge for yourself.

Catherine sighed deeply as she finished the last page of Udolpho and slowly closed the novel. What on earth was she to read now? She had worked her way through Isabella's list twice and read all such works as heroines must read to supply their memories with those quotations which are so seviceable and so soothing in the vicissitudes of their eventful lives. Sigh.

"What on earth am I to read now?" she asked Henry as he returned from town.

"Well, my dear Miss Morland, I have just picked up something new and interesting which has come out in London! Here," he continued, handing it to her. "It is called Pride and Prejudice. I suggest that you give it a try. It is not gothic, but I believe you will like it, as it contains no history whatsoever."

Catherine opened randomly to a page and proceeded to scan the lines. "Hmm..." she pondered, "this is quite nice!"

"Nice? My dear Miss Morland, nice is a word which can be used to describe nearly anything! For instance," he smirked, "I am very nice." He grinned at her boyishly.

Catherine paid little attention, but turned yet another page of this intriguing novel by "a lady." She laughed merrily. "This Elizabeth Bennet is almost as un-ladylike as I!" she cried.

"Almost?" a distinctly Elizabeth Bennet-ish voice challenged in amusement.

Henry whirled. "Who said that?!?!"

Suddenly, Catherine and Henry found themselves in a vast arena opposite a young lady whose petticoat was six inches deep in mud. She looked as bewildered as they felt!

"Oh, for goodness sake!" moaned Elizabeth. "I should convey a message to Jane and tell her that I will be delayed in my visit! One minute I'm headed to Netherfield, the next I'm standing here surrounded by tortilla-brandishing spectators!"

"Who are you?" inquired Catherine innocently.

"My name is Elizabeth Bennet, and I am Jane Austen's most un-ladylike heroine," she stated simply.

"Oh..." Catherine said apologetically, "That's odd, for I thought Jane Austen's most un-ladylike heroine would have been I!"

Mr. Darcy leapt to Eliza's defence. "Absolutely not!!! My Elizabeth is the most un-ladylike!"

Henry did likewise for Catherine, staring Fitzwilliam hard in the eye. "You are flat out wrong, sir! My Catherine claims that position!"

The two women moved closer and spoke to each other in hushed tones. "Oh no!" whispered Catherine. "My Henry and your Fitzwilliam look on the verge of a duel!"

"Oh, don't worry," Elizabeth replied reassuringly, "We can stop them."

"Catherine!" called Mr. Tilney, beckoning to her without taking his angry eyes off Darcy. "Come over here and give this fellow a piece of your mind!!"

Catherine went pale as she viewed Mr. Darcy's tall, intimidating figure. Eliza pushed her forward gently, saying "Go on, dear. I'm sure you'll think of something."

Fitzwilliam Darcy glared down at poor Catherine and she stared, wide-eyed, back.

"Um..." Catherine mumbled timidly. "Your aunt reminds me of Montoni?"

An excited murmur passed through the crowd. Mr. Darcy leaned farther over Catherine, coming eye to eye with her. "What...did...you...say...?" he said slowly, with menace.

Catherine cowered.

Henry answered his question proudly. "She said that your aunt reminds her of the villian in The Mysteries of Udolpho! So there! Ha!"

Darcy was about to counter-attack when Elizabeth interfered. "I don't think you can argue with her there, Mr. Darcy!"

Fitzwilliam stopped and thought. "You're right, Miss Bennet. I have a thought! Why don't you have a deathmatch!"

Catherine and Elizabeth shot each other perplexed glances and instantly found themselves in opposite corners of the arena, backed by their individual supporters. Contrary to what has occurred in prior matches, Henry and Fitzwilliam did the announcing.

Henry began. "Ladies and Gentlemen, in the far corner, dressed in a becoming yellow muslin with pink rosettes and looking very much to the advantage, we have Miss Catherine Morland! Everybody say 'YAY!!!!' In the opposite corner, wearing a blue walking dress six inches deep in mud, we have Miss Elizabeth Bennet! Everybody say 'BOO!!!!'

Fitzwilliam was given the line that, for some odd reason, always starts the deathmatches. Something, however, seemed different... "LETS GET READY TO BEAT THE HECK OUT OF MISS CATHERINE MORLAND!!!!" shouted Mr. Darcy.

The match had begun.

Catherine and Elizabeth circled, Catherine hanging back slightly. Elizabeth made her move and lunged at Miss Morland, who dodged, sending Eliza flying headlong into the crowd. Immediately, Catherine rushed over to apologize and make sure Miss Bennet wasn't hurt. She wasn't--Mr. Collins had broken her fall. Lizzy sprung erect, not too keen on remaining in the clergyman's lap. She advanced while Catherine retreated, seeing John Thorpe directly behind Mr. Collins.

"Go get 'em, Miss Morland!" Mr. Thorpe called to her roughly. "I've bet a whole d-- guinea on ye!"

"Give 'er a left, an' a right, an' a left, an' a right!" Henry encouraged her.

Catherine, being an experienced fighter (with nine siblings, who wouldn't be?), removed her gloves and shoved them in her reticule. This she tossed to Henry. Miss Morland then charged at Elizabeth, who backed off. Catherine stepped on her opponent's skirt and the arena heard a satisfying rip as the hem was torn clean off.

Henry picked up the microphone and a piece of chalk. The scoreboard now read:

Elizabeth Bennet: 0

Catherine Morland: 2

"And Catherine, with clever footwork, embarasses Elizabeth almost as much as Mrs. Bennet can!" he announced.

"Well done, my dearest creature!!" screamed Isabella Thorpe.

"Oh, Miss Bennet, I'm dreadfully sorry! Please forgive me when all this is over!"

Eliza clenched her fists. "Are you sure you'll be here when all this is over?"

Catherine's eyes widened. She took a step backwards and tripped. Lizzy sprinted towards her and ripped a rosette off the skirt of her yellow gown. The broken threads unravelled, leaving a hole about the size of a half-dollar in the dress.

Back in the announcer's box, Henry slapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh, no!" he moaned. "I told her it would fray!!"

Fitzwilliam stood up a little taller and recorded his beloved Eliza's score. He stuck out his tongue at Henry while no one was looking.

Catherine, by no means horrified, picked herself up, brushed herself off, and struck back. She threw a punch at Lizzy's fine eyes, but Eliza did a neat forward roll and pulled Catherine down. Miss Morland, in turn, kicked out at her adversary, catching her full in the stomach.

"Atta girl, Catherine!" Caroline Bingley yelled from the stands. If Elizabeth were killed, she could have Darcy all to herself! "What?!" Caroline queried when her cry was met with astonished glances from her brother and the Bennets.

"Oh, no!" Catherine interjected, her hands flying to her mouth in shock, "I've really injured her this time!"

Miss Bennet, having caught her breath, did a forward handspring and tugged at Miss Morland's hair. Catherine screamed bloody murder, and Elizabeth, after a few seconds, let go.

"Oh, Miss Bennet!" whispered Catherine, through painful tears. "I never meant to kick you so hard! I only wanted to get away! I am soooo sorry! I do hope you are going to be all right!"

Elizabeth's look softened. "I am very well, I assure you!" replied Miss Bennet in the same tone. "And how is your poor scalp? You shall recover, I trust?"

Catherine nodded.

"I have got an idea, then. Since neither of us truly wishes to hurt the other, why don't we fake a death?"

"Oh! Do, let's! And since I am so far ahead, you may pretend to kill me."

"Excellent...though you are really only ahead by one. I would catch up to you, you know!"

"Of course."

Meanwhile, the impatient crowd was wondering what the heck the two battling heroines were waiting for. James Morland leaned over to Isabella and suggested that they do something to stir things up a bit.

Eliza began chasing Catherine around the arena. "Oh! Henry! Henry! Help me!" shouted the latter.

"Oh, you little gothiholic!" the former insulted accusingly.

Fitzwilliam Darcy pulled out his pocket Funk & Wagnalls. "Gotha...Gotho...Gothihol...Gothiholic! Here we are! One who frequently reads and too often believes Gothic novels. For example, Catherine Morland," he read aloud.

Catherine was down, and Elizabeth was battering her (or at least that's what it looked like). Catherine's screams were quite convincing, as were Lizzy's batterings.

Isabella Thorpe, glancing around the arena for Fredrick Tilney, spotted Fitzwilliam Darcy in the announcer's box. "Oooh!" she gushed, pointing at Mr. Darcy, "is he married?"

"Why, no! But he is expected to marry Miss Eliza Bennet, I believe. I have heard that he is to inherit an estate and a great sum of money. I know him very well!" John Thorpe announced in his bragging way.

"If Catherine kills Elizabeth," Isabella pondered, "maybe I can get Mr. Darcy!"

Isabella, who always had a copy of Orphan of the Rhine on hand, hurled it at Lizzy with all her might.

Catherine, still screaming and pretending to retaliate, suddenly noticed that Miss Bennet was no longer standing over her. Rather, Catherine was standing over Eliza, who had been cut down by the novel that Isabella chucked.

Henry cheered, and Fitzwilliam was astounded. "Hey!" shouted Mr. Darcy, "That wasn't fair!"

Henry bounded out to a bewildered Catherine and proclaimed her the winner. "And the winner is Catherine Morland! My dear Miss Morland, having just won the splendid prize of a two-hundred dollar gift certificate to Yarns & Fables Book Store, will you marry me?"

"Of course!" answered a teary-eyed Catherine.

Eliza Bennet groaned. Catherine, recalling that she had left Miss Bennet in a sorry state on the floor of the arena, stooped over to give her assistance.

"My dear Miss Bennet, I will gladly donate my gift certificate to you if you wish. You would have won the match anyway."

Lizzy stood painfully with Miss Morland's help. "Oh, no, Catherine. You may keep it. The library at Mr. Darcy's manor, Pemberley, is complete, I'm sure," she declared kindly.

Back in the announcer's box, Mr. Darcy muttered to himself. "I'm going to have my revenge on whoever wrote this..."

Who? Me?

The End