The Unexpected Miss Bennet (5 page)

J
ANE GREETED KITTY with an affectionate kiss.

‘How good it is to see you! Kitty, you’ve grown! Would you like to rest before we have tea?’

Her sister untied her bonnet, bubbling over with excitement from her journey. She turned and turned in the hall, so much grander than shabby Longbourn. Though she had been to Jane’s on a few visits, this was the first time she’d made the journey alone.

‘Oh, I’m not tired at all. I am so glad to be here at last. Jane, I do so admire your house. So elegant. And it is so kind of you to have me! And Bingley too! Thank you so much! I can’t wait – I want to do everything at once! And when can we go to London? I do so want to go there. And Mama said to tell you that I will do anything you ask of me and be very good, but – would it be all right if I had one gown made while I am here? It would be terribly hard to go to all the fine places with unfashionable country clothes.’

‘Of course, Kitty,’ Jane said, but she felt a small niggling alarm. She would have to stand firm, and she so disliked disappointing anyone. This concern had made her very apprehensive of Kitty’s visit. She could not begrudge her little sister any thing, and she knew Bingley would be even more likely to shower Kitty with all the things her heart desired, for he wanted only to make his wife happy. It would be up to Jane herself to curb Kitty’s natural greediness. She almost wished Bingley were not so amiable in this matter.

Unaware of her sister’s misgivings, Kitty chattered on as she let the servant take her bonnet and shawl and followed Jane into the parlour with a happy sigh and lightness of foot.

‘How are Mama and Papa? And Mary?’ Despite her effort to keep the question light, Jane could hear the significance she herself put into it. Kitty did not notice.

‘Oh, they are well, as can be expected. Papa reads, Mama fidgets – she was so amusing when she told me I could make this visit by myself! She said that it would be most enjoyable and she wished she were sixteen again to be able to go to London with only her sister as chaperone!’

Jane winced. She took her duties more seriously than her Aunt Philips would have done; she could only imagine the mischief her mother could have got into under so light a hand. She took a sip of tea. ‘And . . . Mary? Still playing the piano and reading sermons?’

Kitty responded with an airy wave but then frowned. ‘Oh, but you know, she hasn’t played the piano much at all. No, I don’t believe she has.’ She brightened. ‘She had better keep it up, because who will play for us at Lucas Lodge, I can’t think! Did you know – at the last assembly a young man went up to Mary and asked her to dance! I laughed like anything and Maria Lucas had to tell him that Mary doesn’t dance because no one else will play the piano!’

Jane composed her thoughts, her heart sinking. ‘I see. And what did Mary tell the young man?’

Kitty shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Oh, what a pretty brooch you are wearing, Jane. Is it a gift from Bingley?’

So Kitty thought nothing of her sister’s plight. Well then, Jane thought, as she gave in to Kitty’s teasing and let her put on the brooch. She watched her little sister admire herself in a small mirror, turning this way and that to make the brooch sparkle in the sunlight coming in from the large window. It was not a moment too soon to do something about Mary.

AS KITTY CHATTERED on and she and Jane enjoyed each other’s company, Lizzy was writing to her parents, asking them to allow Mary to come and visit her and Darcy at Pemberley.

‘What do you think of this, Mr Bennet?’ Mrs Bennet asked her husband, peering over his shoulder as he read Lizzy’s letter. ‘Asking Mary to come and visit Pemberley when she has scarcely ever asked me to visit! I must say, I wonder what she is about! What can she possibly mean by asking Mary to visit Pemberley!’

Mr Bennet, after his short and rather odd conversation with his daughter regarding Mr Collins, began to have an inkling. He scanned the letter’s contents again, his brow wrinkling over his daughter’s precise handwriting. He kept back a smile out of consideration for his wife’s feelings.

‘I think it would be a fine thing for Mary to go and visit her sister, my dear. And look, Lizzy writes that when we come to fetch her we can all be together as a family at Christmastide. Kitty will come with Jane and Bingley and we will all celebrate at Pemberley.’

Neither mentioned Lydia and her husband, Mr Wickham, though their presence could be felt in the pause that followed this remark. After a moment Mrs Bennet went on, hardly mollified. ‘Yes, of course, that will be very well. But Mary! Lizzy knows she doesn’t like company. What will she do with herself in that grand house? I know that she will make Darcy tired of her long words and talking of things that matter to no one. And then Lizzy will never be able to have any one of us visit her, for Darcy will put his foot down. And oh, if Lizzy takes her to town! What will Mary do in town, I wonder? Mr Bennet, you must write to Lizzy at once and tell her Mary does not want to visit her. Oh, what are things coming to? My poor nerves. Just thinking about Kitty going away and now we have to think about Mary too? How will we pack for her? I am thoroughly exhausted by my efforts with Kitty.’

Mr Bennet simply nodded and let her continue on, as he read the letter once more, then tucked it into his pocket. Mrs Bennet soon took herself off, still bewailing of all these sudden comings and goings of her daughters and the trouble it gave, while he went to find Mary.

He found her crossing the fields from Meryton, hurrying a little, for the sky was greying and a menacing low cloud came down behind her. The wind had whipped up and the weather had turned chilly. Mary was too far away for him to see her clearly; as he stood in the doorway looking out at the sudden change in weather, she picked up her skirts and ran. She arrived over the threshold inside just as a scattering of drops drove in behind her.

‘Quick, Papa!’ she cried as she hurried inside, and he closed the door behind her just as a gust of wind and rain followed.

The weather was cut off but Mr Bennet remained astonished. Mary was
laughing
. The exercise had brought colour to her cheeks and her lips, usually pale from staying indoors. Her dark hair had loosened from its prim knot and her bonnet had fallen askew. Still laughing, Mary unknotted it. She used a slightly damp handkerchief to clean the raindrops from her face.

‘The wind was most uncommon today,’ she said, shaking out her skirts. ‘I thought it was almost playful at first, with the clouds scudding along like ships at sea, but once the sun was obscured, I knew I had to hurry. I almost got drenched.’

As if to emphasize her words, a gust of rain spattered on the door.

‘Well, come along, come along,’ he said gruffly. ‘Call for tea and change into dry clothes and then come to see me in my library – no need to take cold on account of a romantic fancy about the wind.’

She bobbed and gave him a smile and continued up the stairs with a light step quite unlike her usual measured tread. Mr Bennet rubbed his ear and continued to his sanctuary. He was settled at his desk with a book, waiting for his daughter, when it occurred to him that he had never seen Mary look quite so lively before. She had always been a dark, prim little thing, even as a child, her temper easily roused and her first expression a scowl, not a smile; her first reaction to disapprove.

This Mary looked almost mischievous.

A knock came at his door.

‘Come in,’ he called. Mary came in, her hair smoothed back and her dress shaken out and hastily towelled dry. She wore a shawl around her shoulders.

‘Well, Mary,’ Mr Bennet said gruffly. ‘Your sister Lizzy has written and wants you to come to visit her at Pemberley. You would stay the summer, and go to town with her, and at Christmas we would come to fetch you and celebrate the season with her and Darcy. Tell me, you and Lizzy have never been close – would you go to her out of a desire to increase your sisterly bond or would you go because of a desire to be in the orbit of Darcy’s wealth and influence?’

Mary thought for a moment. To be sure, she was intimidated by Darcy, but she also liked him – he conversed with her gravely and heard her opinions. She thought that even if he didn’t agree with her, he would still hear what she had to say. And Lizzy – it wasn’t that she didn’t like her sister. But sometimes it was very tiring to be in company with Lizzy, who could have a sharp tongue and liked to make fun of everyone. Mary wondered sometimes why Lizzy could say the most shocking things, but when
she
observed some facet of human nature, everyone chorused, ‘Oh
Mary
.’

She had been to Pemberley once before, and was astonished by the grandeur of the estate. She had remarked to Lizzy that one could not consider it a home, but rather a responsibility to live up to, and to her amazement, Lizzy had sighed and nodded.

She’s lonely and wants her family
. It was an astonishing thought, but it carried with it a kind of sense. Jane had her own household, and Kitty now was off to visit her. Even Lizzy’s best friend Charlotte had a new baby to care for.

‘I would like to go, Papa, for the first reason, and not the second, though I think Darcy is a fine kind of person and he and Bingley are my brothers now so I must like them. But I think you are right – Lizzy needs her family and I would like to go.’ Another thought struck her. ‘If you and Mama can spare me, of course.’

Her father laughed. ‘I can, my dear, though you have become surprising to me in the last few weeks. I cannot imagine what changes a few months under the influence of your sister can bring. As for your mother, she can spare you though she will tell you she cannot – that is jealousy, so pay it no attention.’

Before Mary could ask him what he meant, he stood up. ‘Then it is decided. You will go to visit your sister, and we will all be together again at Christmas. And we will see if being surrounded by ten thousand a year will turn your head as easily it has done everyone else’s in this family.’

‘Great wealth is as much a curse as it is a blessing, but I think that if one prepares oneself, one can resist temptation,’ Mary said. She was already looking forward to the challenge. Her father looked doubtful.

‘What? Not a ribbon or a silk stocking or a pretty bonnet to change your mind? We will see, Mary, if your great resolve is enough to keep you out of the gravest danger of greed and gluttony. But there – I send you to your sister, not to Brighton, so maybe you will manage to withstand the forces that all the fripperies in London will bring to bear.’

‘You will see, Papa, I will not fail.’

At that he laughed and waved a hand at her to go. ‘You go to visit your sister, not minister to heathens in the East, Mary. You are allowed a ribbon or two.’

I
T WAS DECIDED that Mary would travel to Pemberley with her Uncle and Aunt Gardiner, who often journeyed to Derbyshire to visit Lizzy. The Gardiners were special favourites of Darcy and Elizabeth, as they had been instrumental in overcoming the barriers the two young people had put up against each other. Both uncle and aunt dismissed the assertion as preposterous, but were secretly pleased that their niece and her husband thought, or pretended to think, that they had had a hand in their current happiness.

When they stopped at Longbourn, Mary gave her aunt and uncle a kiss and all her little cousins in turn, two lively girls of eight and ten, and two small boys. They were very happy to see her, for though she was not Jane, Mary was kind to her young cousins in a grave, solemn way. The children had never liked Lydia and Kitty, for they would often tease them and laugh at them.

‘Why, Mary, you look very well,’ Mrs Gardiner exclaimed, giving her another kiss. Mary’s complexion was clear and pink and her brown eyes bright. Mrs Gardiner noticed that her middle niece had lost the scowl that perpetually drew her mouth into a downturned line, and the plain blue frock she wore gave an added brightness to her expression.