“My sister and the Hursts will be leaving on Monday. I hope Miss Mary is well?”
“No harm came to her and I was finally able to locate her beside the river.”
“I have informed my sister that she will apologize before they leave,” Bingley replied as he took another shot and watched yet another ball roll into the pocket.
“Perhaps it would be best if she did not—unless it is coming from true intentions,” Fitz offered. When Bingley’s next turn did not result in a pocketed ball, he stepped up to try again.
“Yes, you are right. She is still leaving nonetheless, and I hope Miss Mary has not been too affected by Caroline’s ill intentions.”
“Only time will tell how hurtful her words truly were,” Fitz said, taking the last shot and sinking the ball easily.
“Everything will be well, though, correct?” Bingley said, compassion evident in his features.
Fitz’s heart wrenched. “Yes, I think so.” He cleared his throat at he turned to reposition the balls again. “So, last time we spoke you were thinking of showing Miss Mary your attentions. How is that going?”
Bingley shrugged his shoulders, “After I left Pemberley I did not think much on her, so evidently my heart was just not in it. She is a pleasant young lady, but...”
He smiled at hearing what Bingley said, “I understand.”
The two men played a few more games before it was time to change for supper. Miss Darcy and Miss Bingley did not come down to join them, so Fitz and Darcy were surprised to find both Elizabeth and Mary waiting with Bingley when they returned to the sitting room. The meal was expertly prepared, though it was not fully appreciated by those who ate it.
When they returned to the sitting room after the meal, Bingley asked, “Mrs Darcy, do you play the pianoforte?”
“Unfortunately I do not. I used to be able to pick my way through a simple piece, but I have not practiced in many years. I fear I would be a rather dull entertainment this evening.”
Fitz looked over, “Darcy may want to string me up for saying so, but my Aunt Anne saw that we both played well enough to be considered accomplished.”
Elizabeth smiled and turned to her husband, “Do tell, sir—I did not know you held such talent for the instrument?”
He smiled, “My cousin greatly exaggerates my abilities. He was a much better student than me, and I have not played in many years.”
Bingley patted the colonel on the shoulder, “Well, it looks as if we must leave the entertainment up to you this evening.”
Fitz looked to Mary, “Only if Miss Mary will turn the pages?”
She nodded and joined him on the other side of the room as he shuffled through the music sheets. When he found one he thought he could remember well enough, he sat down and stretched his fingers, then began. He indicated when to turn the page and Mary did it expertly as he made his way through the piece. At one point he saw her press her hand up against the top of the instrument and he wondered what she was doing. When he was through he bowed to the applause the others gave, then he turned back to Mary, asking, “Are you well?”
“Yes; please do not concern yourself on my account. I am stronger than some think me to be.”
“Of that I do not doubt. I did not expect you to come down tonight though.”
“I cannot hide away from my troubles. If I did, what life would I lead?”
“Very true. Will you join me in another song?”
She smiled, “Yes, of course. You played that masterfully.”
He cocked his head and asked, “How could you tell?”
“My cousin is learning to play and I have found that if I place my hand as so,” she put her hand lightly on the wood, “I can feel the movements of the piece.”
“That is interesting. Can you tell when I hit a wrong note?”
She chuckled, “No, it is not as clear as hearing with my ears, but I do enjoy the experience as much as one in my situation can.”
Fitz pulled another piece of music from the stack and replied, “I am constantly amazed at the world in which you live.” Laying out the pages on the stand, he winked at her, “This one is much faster, so are you ready?” At her nod he began, enjoying the smile on her face as she once again placed her hand against the wood and listened to the piece in her own way.
When the music ended, Elizabeth insisted it was time they retire, so the two ladies left the gentlemen and went upstairs. They arrived at Mary’s door and Elizabeth stepped inside with her, closing the door. Elizabeth reached out to embrace her sister, then when she released her, she signed, “I must apologize. You were right—I had no cause to keep such knowledge from you. I truly am sorry, Mary. You are all the family I have left, and I only meant to protect you, but I can see very clearly in front of me that you are fully grown and able to take care of yourself as well.”
Mary signed, “I too must apologize for running away from you as I did. I am sure you were worried for my safety.”
Elizabeth smiled, “We have both learned something from today, and that is what matters most. You know you can talk with me about anything, do you not? My being married now does not change that.”
“I do know, but it is always good to hear anyway.”
“While we are confessing our all to one another, there is one more thing that has been kept from you, and I cannot in good conscience continue to do so.”
Mary was curious what could cause her sister the obvious distress she displayed, and she nodded in response then awaited whatever it could be.
“When my marriage contract was signed by our uncle, my husband insisted on you receiving a sizeable portion, so he has set aside £20,000 to be added to what our mother left us. He also did not wish to ever see you without a home, so he has also given you a property that is not necessary to the Darcy holdings. He says it is worth about £4,000 a year, and the proceeds from it have been transferred to our uncle until you are of age or choose to marry.”
Mary was shocked with such news. She started to say something a few times, stammering out finally, “He is too generous...”
Elizabeth reached for Mary’s shaking hands, “I do not want this news to frighten you. Fitzwilliam only wishes to see you properly cared for, and though it is a large amount, he insisted it be yours.”
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and said, “Will you thank him for me?”
“Yes, I will do just that. I am sorry we have kept it from you this long.”
“I can understand why you did, but it means a lot that you have now told me. Thank you.” She kissed her sister’s cheek, “Good night Elizabeth.”
“Good night,” Elizabeth said, then left and she went to her own room to await her husband. When he entered a few minutes later she was already dressed for bed and was sitting at the mirror brushing out her hair. He took the brush from her and finished the job, then as she plaited her hair he changed into his nightshirt and they both climbed into bed.
Elizabeth lay with her head on her husband’s chest, “Have you discussed with your cousin what should be done with your sister?”
Darcy’s hand reached over and he began to caress his wife’s slowly growing abdomen. “We could send her to stay with my Aunt Edith.”
“Yes, that is always an option. It might be best at this time.”
“I agree—you do not need this kind of stress. I will speak with Fitz tomorrow and write to my aunt.”
“Will you tell Georgiana?”
“No, I think it best we keep this information from her until it is necessary. She will not be pleased with our decision.”
“No, but she has not made this easy on you.”
“I was not thinking of me,” he pulled her closer and kissed her slowly, drawing her into the passion that slowly built between the two.
The following morning Elizabeth dressed and went to check on Mary. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see her sitting at her mirror, already dressed. Elizabeth walked up behind her and dismissed the maid,
waiting until the girl closed the door before she signed to her sister, “Did you sleep well?”
“Adequately,” she answered before she reached for her bonnet.
Elizabeth’s hand reached over to stay Mary’s, “You do not have to go.”
Mary’s voice cracked as she looked her sister in the eye and said, “Please, Elizabeth, do not treat me as a child. It is clear I cannot run away from this. I have never been known to miss Sunday services without good cause, and I intend to go this morning.”
When Elizabeth released her hand, Mary placed the bonnet on her head and tied the ribbon into a bow. She then reached for her cloak, draping it over her arm as she turned to leave the room. “Are you coming as well, or will I face them on my own?”
Elizabeth could not help the feeling of dread that overtook her, but with a determination, she replied, “Of course I am going with you. I would never wish to leave you to face any situation alone.”
The others were waiting for them in the front hall. Bingley informed them that Caroline had yet to awaken, and Mr and Mrs Hurst offered to stay behind with their sister. Miss Darcy did not wish to go either, but after her brother insisting and her cousin saying he would pick her up and take her to the carriage himself, in her nightgown no less, she acquiesced to their request to dress and be downstairs in time. She refused to look at Elizabeth and Mary as they joined the group.
Darcy walked over to the mirror where his wife was affixing her own bonnet on her head. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I take it she is determined to go?”
“Yes. Perhaps it is for the best.”
“It might just be,” he said, lifting her hand to deposit a kiss on the back of her fingers before she pulled her gloves on.
While the couple had a private moment, Fitz held out Mary’s cloak, draping it over her shoulders. Stepping in front of her so she could see his lips, he said, “I am glad you have not changed your usual habits just because you are here.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” she replied.
He offered his arm to her, “Everything will work out—you will see. And if the day does not go as I hope, you still have my friendship.”
“With you beside me, I know I can face the neighborhood today.” She blushed when she realized just how such a statement could be taken, but he did not seem to mind.
They all walked out to the waiting carriage. Darcy was busy handing Georgiana in when Mary took the opportunity to sign to her sister, “I wish to visit our family’s graves after the service.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was not quite ready to face the headstones of her family that would confirm, for eternity, their absence from this life, but more importantly she would not let Mary face them alone. “We shall go together.”
Mary gave a simple, heartfelt nod of appreciation, and then took the hand held out to help her into the carriage. The short ride was quiet. Georgiana sulked at being required to attend and the others readied themselves for what they knew would be a difficult situation of support for one of their own. When they arrived, the gentlemen helped the ladies down and Bingley stepped beside Miss Darcy to offer his arm so the much larger frame of the colonel could escort Miss Mary into the service. He knew just how intimidating the Army commander could look, and today might be just the day to utilize whatever means they had at their disposal.
Noticing his wife’s agitated state, Darcy asked, “Elizabeth, are you well?”
She swallowed hard, then quietly said to her husband, “We wish to visit the headstones afterward.”
“Are you certain?”
“No, but I will not let her stand there alone, and she is determined.”
Remembering well the day he first went to visit where his own parents were laid to rest, he understood completely the gravity of such a decision. He gave her a simple nod, “Whatever is required of me, you need only ask.”
She squeezed his fingers, “You are sweet to offer, but I doubt there is anything you could do that will make this any easier on either of us.”
“Perhaps there is something,” he said. “Give me just a moment.” He walked over to the footman, speaking quietly with him, then, with a nod, went back to his wife’s side.
“What was that about?”
“You may ask questions which I shall choose not to answer.”
She chuckled, “My, aren’t you being a tease today.” Realizing his mission was to lighten the moment, she whispered, “Thank you.”
“It is the least I can do.” Then turning towards the group, he met Mary’s eyes and asked, “Are you ready?” At her nod, he held out his arm to Elizabeth, “Then let us join the service.”
A few people lingered outside, but most had already arrived and were finding their usual seats when the Netherfield Park group entered. Reverend Carter stood at the back door, his tenure of only two years as rector in the neighborhood making him completely unaware of who had just entered his church. He was happy to greet Mr Bingley and be introduced to the others of the Netherfield party. When the visitors walked away to find their seat, he turned to greet Mr and Mrs Collins as they came through the door, not giving any special notice to the silence that now permeated the room.
The bell tolled and Reverend Carter walked to the front. Facing the congregants, he asked them to all stand, opened his prayer book, and bowed his head to lead them in the opening prayer. When he was done, he motioned for the choir, who began the first song of the morning’s service.
He noticed a congregant was becoming quite irate, wondering what the man meant when he leaned over to his wife and loudly pronounced, “I will not stay if she is to be admitted within this church!” The man then forcefully pulled his wife’s arm, hurrying his family along behind them as they exited the building, slamming the door in their wake.
Not knowing what to say, the rector cleared his throat and motioned to his wife, whose lovely voice he looked forward to hearing every week from the choir, to begin their selection again. They were just about to start singing when a second congregant left the church as well. A third family was on their way out the door when he finally silenced the choir and looked over the ashen faces of everyone else still there. He noticed no one occupied the benches near the Netherfield Park party, and yet all their eyes were drawn to them.
Not knowing what to do, he addressed the local magistrate, “Sir William, if you would be so kind, please tell me what is going on here? Why are so many leaving this morning?”
Sir William Lucas’ face filled with anger and his voice was gruff when he answered with vehemence, “She killed my son and several others in this neighborhood, including her own family, and you graciously accept her into your church? No sir, Reverend Carter—I will have no part of this service if she is to be included amongst your congregants!” He too turned to leave, urging his family to join him. When Mr Collins turned as well to follow his father—in—law out, he grabbed his wife’s arm. Charlotte silently mouthed, “I am so sorry,” as she passed Elizabeth and Mary on their way out of the church.
Reverend Carter was taken aback, but, trying to return reverence to the sacred service, he once again motioned for the choir to begin their selection of music.
Darcy reached for his wife’s hand, squeezing it in silent support as they shared a hymnal. Fitz felt like storming out. How these people could spout Christian beliefs and yet treat someone as sweet as Mary as they did, he could never understand. A movement beside him made him look at Mary. She stood tall, her shoulders held high and a slight smile on the corners of her lips as she mouthed the words to the hymn being sung. She was the very image of strength and elegance in the midst of such turmoil. With a deep breath, he too squared his shoulders and joined the choir in praise.
Georgiana held her nose higher. This was just the kind of reaction she had hoped to see this morning. What she did not expect were the stares she too received from those who continued to leave. Many even shunned her as they walked by! She was shocked! How could they treat her
so? In stunned silence she stood frozen beside her brother.
By the second song all the other congregants, save the party from Netherfield, had left. Even the choir members collected their instruments and music sheets and quietly walked out of the church. Mrs Carter refused to acknowledge such rudeness and instead continued to sing along with the few who were left. When the song was finished, Reverend Carter turned to his wife and reached out his hand to her, asking her to come to his side.
Bingley honestly did not know what to say. For once in his life, he was truly speechless. When the rector and his wife walked up to them, he was glad Darcy spoke, as he did not think he could have put three intelligent words together after such a spectacle.
“Sir, I must offer our apologies. We meant only to join you in worshipping this morning, not cause a great upset.”
He led his wife over to the group, “No, it is I who must apologize for such a cold welcome from my parish. Be assured, if you desire my services while you are visiting our neighborhood I will gladly attend to you.”
“We thank you, sir,” Darcy said as he turned to lead his family down the aisle. He stopped at the door and turned back to the rector. “If you have time on the morrow, perhaps you could come by Netherfield?”
“I will do just that,” Reverend Carter replied.
“If you do not mind,” Darcy replied, “My wife and sister wish to pay their respects to their family before we leave.”
“Yes, of course; take all the time you need,” the reverend said, then he turned and followed his wife out of the church.
The group walked out through the large, wooden doors. The grey skies seemed to mirror the bleakness they each felt on this cold autumn day. Elizabeth linked arms with Mary and they made their way towards the headstone they knew well, that of their mother and sister. When they were younger, the sisters would all visit as often as they could, placing Mrs Bennet’s favorite flowers there in remembrance. Returning today brought back a flood of emotions barely kept in check.
Just to Hear 'I Love You': An Alternate Tale of Jane Austen's 'Pride & Prejudice' Page 19