B00BKPAH8O EBOK

by Winslow, Shannon

  “Precisely,” said Elizabeth, with an arch look at her husband. Turning her attention to the boy again, she continued. “Bennet, dear, you have entertained us well. Now it is time to say your good-nights.”

  Accordingly, the boy shook his father’s hand and Mr. Tristan’s, and then he kissed his two aunts and mother on their offered cheeks.

  Elizabeth would not be satisfied with that, however, and she bundled her first born into a tight embrace. “Off you go, and sleep well,” she then said, sending the boy to the nurse, who waited to one side. Elizabeth’s eyes followed him till he was out the door and gone. She then turned to her companions. “So, who shall we hear from next? Mary, do save us by playing something. Otherwise, I fear Mr. Darcy will insist on resuming our history lesson, and that would never do. I feel far too gay for lessons of any kind tonight.”

  23

  No Reprieve

  The next day being Sunday, they all made the trek from Pemberley to the church at Kympton, the parish for which Mr. Darcy had the patronage. There they heard the sermon of Mr. Thornton, and afterward spoke outside the church with him and with his wife Ruth, Mr. Tristan’s sister.

  “How good to see you again, Miss Bennet,” said the woman with a gentle smile. She had a very pleasing aspect, an infant in her arms, and a shy toddler hiding behind her skirts.

  “And you as well,” said Mary. “Your family has grown since last I saw you.”

  “Very true. Our bashful boy Duncan is now three, and this is our little Bess, born only two months past.” She leant forward and uncovered the child’s face for Mary to see.

  “My congratulations. She is a fine, healthy-looking infant, Mrs. Thornton.”

  “Yes, God has been very good to us.”

  Had Mary still been imagining a future with Tristan, meeting his sister and her husband again would now have taken on special significance, in the expectation that these would one day be her relations as well. A fresh pang coursed through her, for Mary felt instinctively that she could have liked this lady very much.

  Kitty then joined them, and, by her familiar manner of greeting Mrs. Thornton, it was immediately apparent that a relationship of some degree of intimacy existed between them, as was to be expected. At once feeling like an intruder, Mary invented a reason to move on, slowly making her way toward the carriage.

  “Are you quite well, Sister Mary?” said Mr. Darcy, coming to her side and placing a supporting hand at her elbow. “You do look rather done in.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Darcy, but it is nothing. I am only a little over warm in the sun. I will just wait in the carriage, if I might.”

  “Certainly. Allow me to escort you.” They walked on toward an oak tree, in the shade of which the carriage and horses rested, and he presently said, “I fear you are not enjoying your stay with us as much as your sister and I had hoped. Is there any exertion we can make for your comfort? Anything at all? You have only to say the word and it is done.”

  “You are too kind, sir, and your hospitality is flawless, as usual. Please do not worry yourself on my account. I assure you, I am quite content.” Mary was on the verge of confessing to him her desire to depart a day early, when Kitty came dashing up on her other side.

  “What do you think, Mary?” she began cheerfully. “I have just hit upon an idea that you are sure to like exceedingly. I cannot imagine why no one thought of it before, for it is quite clearly the best plan in the world.”

  “Is it really? Then do tell me.”

  “You leave Pemberley in two days’ time. Is that not so?”

  Mary hesitated. “Yes… that was my original plan.”

  “Well, then, what say I return to Longbourn with you? And Mr. Tristan too. What could be more perfect? We shall be such a cheerful party!”

  Mary’s mind raced to find a way out. “It… It is an excellent plan, Kitty, to be sure, although far too generous. I know how you love it here at Pemberley. I have no choice other than to go, but you and Mr. Tristan must not cut short your stay on my account.” Grasping at straws, she added, “Besides, I am not at all certain there will be room in Mr. Farnsworth’s carriage. As it is, I have Gwendolyn and Grace, all their luggage, and two maids as well.”

  “Oh! You think Mr. Farnsworth would object, then?” Kitty asked, as if she had heard nothing else her sister said. “I would not wish to be seen as taking unfair advantage.”

  It was a tempting excuse, and yet Mary could not in good conscience make Mr. Farnsworth the villain of the piece. “No, Kitty, I am quite certain he would not see it as an imposition.”

  “Then it is settled! Mr. Tristan will ride his own horse or sit on the box, and that great coach you came in will certainly hold the other six of us. Why, the Farnsworth girls are not even full grown. So unless the second maid – whom I have not seen – is prodigiously fat, one can only imagine how comfortable we shall be. As for leaving Pemberley, I believe it is high time I took myself out from under foot. Do not you think so, Mr. Darcy?”

  “You are welcome to stay as long as you like,” said he, “both of you, and Mr. Collins as well, of course.”

  “Thank you, kind sir,” said Kitty, bobbing a slight curtsey in a spirit of fun. She then glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Mr. Tristan. “I believe I already have what I came for, though.”

  ~~*~~

  Mary thought no more of quitting Pemberley early. Now it would make no difference if she stayed or went, for her troubles were determined to cling to her either way.

  Craving at least a brief respite, she came downstairs early the next day, mindful that Kitty and Elizabeth rarely made an appearance before ten o’clock, and even Mr. Tristan was inclined to breakfast late. She counted Mr. Darcy, should she happen to come upon him, as the least problematic, for he would likely be as reluctant for conversation as she was herself.

  Had she not known where to go, her nose could have easily been her guide, for the spicy smell of baked ham and the aroma of fresh biscuits wafted in the air. Mary inhaled deeply and, picturing herself sitting down blissfully alone to an enjoyable meal, she entered the breakfast room. She then drew up short just inside the doorway, arrested by the sight before her. For there was Tristan Collins, smartly dressed and standing at the sideboard, dishing a serving of kippers onto his plate.

  He looked up and smiled. “Would you like some?” he asked, offering the portion to Mary instead.

  Retreat was impossible.

  “Ah, Mr. Tristan, I had not thought to see you here so early.” She waved off the kippers, took a plate, and turned her earnest attention to the selection on the sideboard.

  He laughed. “You cannot be more surprised at it than I am myself. It was Mr. Darcy’s idea, you see. He promised me a spot of fishing, but only if I can be ready by eight. Trout breakfast early too, apparently.”

  “Then that explains it.”

  “What is your excuse, Miss Mary? I thought all fashionable ladies insisted on sleeping until at least nine.”

  “I suppose they do. I cannot say, for I am not to be classed amongst them. I must be up early every day, ahead of the children in my charge.”

  “Yes, but there are no children in your charge at Pemberley, Miss Mary. You are on holiday, and you might indulge yourself in the decadent luxury of an additional hour’s sleep, if you wished.”

  Mary replaced the lid to the silver porridge tureen with a clatter. “It is, perhaps, more prudent not to indulge oneself too much with pleasures one has no right to keep. It only makes it more painful when those pleasant things must be given up. Surely, you must see that,” said Mary, with a tone of challenge.

  Their eyes met and held for a long moment. A look of consciousness crossed Tristan’s face. His customary jocularity fell away, replaced by a somberness of countenance that Mary had seen him take on some once or twice before.

  “There is some truth in what you say, Miss Mary. Yet to never experience the good, for fear that it will one day be taken from you – what kind of way i
s that to live?”

  They were clearly, neither one of them, any longer speaking of something as trifling as an extra hour’s sleep. Mary was certain of thus much. She was far less certain what exactly he did have on his mind, or whether he could read hers.

  With Tristan’s question still hanging in the air betwixt them, she saved herself the trouble of responding by deciding it was rhetorical – that he had asked it without wanting or expecting an answer. As she had none to offer in any case, she returned to the business of breakfast.

  They continued in silence some minutes, sitting six feet apart at the same table and both entirely focused on dissecting and rearranging the food on the plates before them.

  Presently, however, Tristan set down his fork and glanced sidelong at Mary. “I am sorry,” he said in a low voice.

  Mary steadied her nerves and schooled her features into an expression of mild curiosity before looking at him. “Sorry? What do you mean, sir? Have you done something for which you need to repent?”

  “I believe I must have, for you do seem displeased with me. I noticed it almost as soon as you arrived at Pemberley. My esteem for you is most sincere, Miss Mary, and I place a high value on your friendship. So, if I have offended or injured you in any way, I am truly sorry.”

  Mary stood abruptly, nearly knocking over her chair. “I thank you for your compliments, Mr. Collins. I also thank you for your apology, although it is entirely unnecessary, I assure you. Now, you really must excuse me; I could not possibly eat another bite.” Leaving her breakfast unfinished and her companion unenlightened, Mary quit the room.

  24

  Returning Home

  The party for Longbourn prepared to quit Pemberley the following morning, the farewells taking place in the entry hall instead of out of doors due to inclement weather. A heavy rain had begun at dawn and showed no sign of subsiding. The dark skies promised a wet passage to Heatheridge – their first day’s destination – and Mary’s mood was decidedly gray as well.

  Under these gloomy auspices, the parting took place and the journey began. Although her stay at Pemberley had turned out far less agreeable than she had hoped, Mary did not quit the place without feelings of regret. Looking back at the great house once more as the carriage drew away, she could not deny its appeal. The sincere hospitality found within its walls, the daily comforts afforded by a family with a generous income, the vast expanse of natural beauty out of doors, and the tasteful elegance in: all these were reasons to lament leaving.

  Her chief regret, however, was the loss of the Pemberley family itself. She had now become acquainted with her Darcy nephews, forming an attachment to Bennet especially. She had enjoyed seeing Elizabeth well settled into motherhood, and what a different model of the office she made from their own mother. And her relations with Mr. Darcy continued to improve with each additional exposure. Mary had discovered that she could abide his presence composedly, almost cheerfully, after all. The little awkwardness that remained between them was nothing compared to what she would face on the three-day journey ahead.

  ~~*~~

  They came and went without incident from Heatheridge and Bancroft Hall in turn. Then the three uncomfortable days predicted stretched into five with the great misfortune of the carriage breaking down, causing them to limp along for miles and miles before reaching the next town with a coaching inn, where repairs could be undertaken.

  Kitty’s continual presence did not trouble Mary as much, or at least not in the same way, as she had supposed it would. Since they were seldom alone together, Kitty could rarely loose her tongue to expound on her secret passion for Mr. Tristan Collins and their plans together. However, she did made an irksome habit of conspicuously watching him out the carriage window as he rode alongside.

  “Is not our cousin a fine horseman, Mary?” she asked on more than one occasion.

  Mary simply agreed with her the first time, ignored the question the second, but could not keep silent when it came still again. They had collected Grace and Gwendolyn by then, so she asked them, “What do you say, girls? Is Mr. Collins the finest horseman you have ever observed? I think not. In fact, I believe your own father is a bolder rider and much more comfortable in the saddle.” This was nothing more than what Mary had already been thinking.

  “Well,” rejoined Kitty, “I cannot answer for that. I see no reason to compare the two in any case.”

  “You opened the subject yourself. I was simply offering an opinion to further the discussion. Yet perhaps you are right, Kitty. It is an unfair comparison. After all, Mr. Farnsworth rides nearly every day, whereas Mr. Collins may not have had the same opportunity, being so occupied with his farm in Virginia. He may have been obliged to spend more time working the ground and less on the back of a horse.”

  Kitty never returned to the topic of Mr. Tristan’s riding again.

  Mary had tried telling herself she should be happy for Kitty, and that she must draw her own comfort from the fact that she had done her solemn duty. For that one moment at least – when faced with the choice whether or not to spoil her sister’s joy by revealing her own ruined aspirations – her finer impulses had prevailed. Upon further reflection, however, Mary had begun to question her noble response and nearly everything else, including Kitty’s claims to Tristan Collins.

  A person of integrity would never tamper with a solemn engagement. That was not the case here, however. And really, other than Kitty’s own assertions, what evidence was there to establish a definite attachment between the two? Nothing that Mary could perceive or recall. An ember of hope flared to life. What she had taken for discretion on Tristan’s part could just as reasonably be interpreted as indifference. And had he not continued to show the same affectionate regard for herself as he had at Longbourn? The more Mary considered it, the more she became convinced that it was at least possible that Kitty was the one who had deceived herself, and that the contest for Tristan’s heart was not yet fully decided. No, she would not give up on him just yet.

  From that point on, Mary made more effort to be civil to Tristan – civil and a good deal more, to her sister’s obvious consternation.

  ~~*~~

  The Farnsworth girls proved an invaluable resource as the friction between the Bennet sisters increased day by day and mile by mile. Mary hardly knew how they would have managed through the long hours of confinement without Grace and Gwendolyn. She kept them talking about their games and adventures with their Bancroft cousins, and the many little kindnesses of their aunt. Mary had brought her Shakespeare with her as well, and all four of them took turns reading aloud from it to pass the time.

  Although not without taxing every resource of patience and comfort, Mary and her companions survived the ordeal and arrived in Hertfordshire with all their limbs and faculties intact.

  The carriage stopped briefly at Longbourn to unburden itself of Kitty and her belongings. Mr. Tristan Collins dismounted immediately to lend assistance, and Mrs. Bennet came rushing out to greet them.

  “Oh, thank the Lord you are safe!” she exclaimed. “When I did not see Mary in church, I thought sure the carriage had been overset or some other terrible calamity had occurred. How good you are, Mr. Collins, to ride escort. And Kitty, I must say it is high time you returned home. I hope you found your long stay at Pemberley worthwhile.”

  “Very worthwhile,” she said with a coy smile, taking Tristan’s hand to alight from the carriage.

  “I am glad to hear it. You must tell me all about it over tea. Perhaps the young ladies would care to come in for some refreshment,” Mrs. Bennet said with a nod to the Farnsworth girls.

  “No, Mama,” replied Mary. “We may not stay. Their father will be anxious for their safe return since our arrival is overdue. We must continue on to Netherfield without delay.”

  The footman folded up the step and closed the door so they could get underway again. Mary glanced back as they moved off, and then wished that she had not. Now the picture left in her mind was that of Kitty close
by Mr. Tristan’s side, standing in front of what might be their home together in the future. Should Longbourn and Mr. Tristan both to fall to her sister in the end, Mary did not know which of the three she should regret the loss of most. For lost to her they surely would be then.

  25

  Rest Disturbed

  A reception party quickly assembled at Netherfield upon their arrival – half a dozen servants, and then the master himself strode forward to hand the ladies out of the carriage.

  Mr. Farnsworth stiffly embraced Gwendolyn and Grace in turn as they alighted. Then he offered his assistance to Mary. “Welcome home, Miss Bennet,” he said sternly. “It is good to have you all returned… late but well, it appears. I will want an accounting from you presently.”

  “Yes, sir. I can explain the delay.”

  “And you shall, but not right now.” He turned from her to rejoin his daughters, softening his tone with them. “Now, girls, let us go in. I want to hear all about your travels, and about your cousins at Bancroft.”

  Mrs. Brand said to Mary, “Never mind, Dearie. The master will be himself again afore long. He has been half out of his wits these last two days, a’ waiting and a’ worrying. Off his food and everything. Now all’s turned out well, he shall soon rally, I expect.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Brand. I am sure you are right.”

  Mary was not at all sure, nor could she be bothered to care at that moment. A sudden weariness had overtaken her, and she could not get to her own chamber quickly enough. Once there, she prayed she would not be disturbed. Solitude, precious solitude: that was what she desperately craved after so many days in constant company. No more putting on a front for others. No more pretending that all was well when it might never be so again. Mary shut herself in, dropped fully clothed onto her bed, and was asleep within minutes.

  It was dusk when she at last awoke, and it took her a moment to remember where she was. When her eyes cleared and could focus, she let out a muffled shriek at seeing the shape of a man, five feet away and silhouetted against the dim light of the window.