The Pursuit of Mary Bennet (16 page)

“Well, hurry up, then,” Lydia said. “I’m tired of keeping Felicity from fidgeting.”

My second attempt was slightly improved, but not by much, and by the time I had finished, Fee was fussy and miserable. The profile no longer looked like Sir William, but rather resembled one of his grandchildren. I sighed. “Perhaps in daylight I shall simply try cutting the profile without using the shadow.”

I knew my humble efforts would never match the skills of a true profilist, but I was determined. Whenever I could convince Lydia and Mama to assist me, I cut profiles of Felicity, and at last created a few that did not look completely ludicrous. I asked Mr. Hill to frame one for me. If Lydia took her daughter away from me, I would have these likenesses of her to look upon every day, and remember the blessings she had brought to my life. The pure, undiluted love.

Chapter 17

I
lay on the bed with Felicity asleep beside me, listening to her whispery breaths and the sucking sounds she made with her mouth. In the distance, I heard the clatter of carriage wheels, and a thrill of anticipation raced through me. Today was the day our guests were to arrive. The day I would see Henry Walsh again.

During the two weeks of waiting, I’d succeeded in banishing him from my thoughts much of the time. Felicity’s waking hours had increased, and I threw myself into her care and amusement. I’d given up my attempts to force Lydia to take more interest in her, having reached the point of feeling like her mother myself. I had put her to my breast several times when she awoke during the night. Miraculously, after a few minutes of sucking, she would fall back to sleep.

Felicity loved me. I could feel it in the way her hands reached out to explore my face, in her joyful smiles when she saw me first thing every morning, and in her nuzzling against me, so close I was sure she could feel the beat of my heart. When Lydia fed her, held her, showed her any affection, I fought against anger and jealousy, and an uneasy feeling that might have been fear of what was to come.

I bolted upright, my heartbeat speeding up at the sound of male voices out front. I moved quietly from the bed to the windows and pushed the curtain aside. A carriage had indeed pulled up, and from it emerged . . . Kitty! Mama would be surprised and delighted. Mr. Carstairs followed her. Charles and Mr. Walsh, on horseback, were dismounting and turning their horses over to a groom.

Mama was shouting, “They are here, Mr. Bennet, they are here! And Kitty, too!”

Footsteps sounded in the hall. That would be Lydia heading downstairs. She had likely spent the last hour preening while I lay stretched out with the baby. A sharp knock on the door and she burst in. “Mary, they’ve arrived! You must come down. Lord, you look a fright! Fix your hair and put on a different dress—that one is exceedingly wrinkled.”

“Shh! Felicity is still asleep.” She didn’t so much as glance at her daughter. “I’ll come in a minute.” I walked down the hall to my own chamber and hastily washed, repinned my hair, and hesitated over what dress to wear. I settled on a pale yellow sprigged muslin. It was cut a bit low across the bust, so I threw a netted fichu around my neck and shoulders. Before going down, I peeked in at Felicity, wondering if I should put her in her cradle. Although she was now able to push herself up and turn over on her own, there was little risk in leaving her in the middle of the bed. She couldn’t move very far. And when she awakened she would cry, and I’d hear her. I glanced once more out the window, where introductions were in progress. Lydia was shaking Mr. Walsh’s hand. I turned and dashed downstairs and out the front door.

Charles noticed me first. “Mary!” he said, planting a kiss on my cheek. He turned and looked toward his friends. “You need no introduction to these gentlemen, I believe.”

“No, indeed.” My heart was thudding against my ribs, so marked I was sure everybody would notice. Mr. Walsh stepped forward and I held out my hand. His hand, warm and so familiar, claimed mine, and I said, “How do you do, sir?”

“Miss Bennet. You are well, I hope?”

“Quite well, thank you. How is Mrs. Walsh?”

“Just over a cold, but otherwise fine. She sends her best.” His eyes were veiled, and I thought I detected a slight clenching of his jaw.

I turned to his cousin. “Mr. Carstairs, how nice to see you again.”

“Miss Bennet. The pleasure is mine.” His eyes were dancing, and I assumed he knew Jane had revealed the secret.

Kitty approached and embraced me warmly. “Hello, Mary.” Her face wore an odd look, a bit wistful and perhaps somewhat . . . repentant. I kissed her cheek and remarked upon how well she looked. Her eyes, too, held a gleam that spoke volumes.

Once inside, we entered the downstairs drawing room, and Mama rang for tea. “Please, be seated,” she said. “You must be tired after your long journey. I do apologize that at present we have no spare chambers to accommodate you. Except for Kitty, of course.”

Charles shrugged it off. “It is of no consequence, ma’am. My friend at Netherfield was more than happy to let us invade the premises. You have a full house here at present, I believe.”

The youngest occupant of the house made herself known at that moment with an earsplitting scream. What on earth? Terrified, I leaped from my chair and dashed from the room. Felicity never screamed upon awakening; she merely cried, and never in a vociferous manner. I heard Mama say, “Lydia, you had better go with Mary.”

I groaned, much preferring to see what had happened on my own. But I soon heard footsteps behind me and realized not only Lydia but Kitty, too, was on my heels. I burst through the nursery door, stunned when I glimpsed the poor babe lying on the floor screaming, her legs and arms jerking reflexively. “Good God!” I knelt down beside her and gently lifted her into my arms. “Are you all right, little Fee?”

“Did you lay her on the bed again, Mary?” Lydia asked. “If she’d been in her cradle where she belonged, this never would have happened.”

Ignoring Lydia, I ran my fingers over the tender skin at the back of Felicity’s head, then over her neck, torso, and limbs. Her cries had tapered off into little gulps by this time. Fortunately, she’d fallen onto a rug. Perhaps she’d only had the wind knocked out of her and been badly frightened, with no real harm done.

Lydia said in a cold voice, “Let me have her.”

Astonished, I gently laid the child in her arms. Felicity scrutinized her mother and resumed her wailing. It took all of ten seconds for her to be handed back to me. Lydia turned to go, but I called to her. “I’ll dress her, but she’ll be hungry. She always is after her nap.”

Lydia heaved an impatient sigh. “Botheration, can’t she wait for a while?”

Kitty sent me a look behind our sister’s back. “Lydia—”

“Oh, don’t you start, Kitty. You know even less than Mary about babies!”

“I believe Mary knows more than either of us,” Kitty said. “I was simply going to suggest you return to the drawing room, and Mary will bring the baby to you when she’s ready for her feeding. Will that suit, Mary?”

“Perfectly,” I said, and Lydia beat a hasty path to the door.

“She doesn’t seem to . . . Jane said she hasn’t yet developed motherly feelings for Felicity,” Kitty said hesitantly. Her hands flew up to straighten her coiffure.

“No.” My conscience wouldn’t allow me to lay all the blame on Lydia. “Perhaps it is partly my fault. I’ve been too eager to step in.”

“I don’t think so, Mary. Look how hastily she left the room, hardly before you had determined Felicity wasn’t hurt.” She had dropped down on the bed, and her foot swung back and forth. Clearly, she was nervous about something, and I thought I knew what.

“Yes. But do consider how long she has been deprived of company other than her family. I think she’s desperate to be in society again.” Why was I defending her?
Guilt,
came the answer, insistent and unmistakable. I set about tying a fresh nappie on the baby, who did not appear to have sustained any injury from her unfortunate encounter with the floor.

“Will you watch her while I find her a fresh dress?”

“Of course.” Kitty jumped up and fastened her eyes on Felicity. “Oh, she smiled at me! She really is adorable.”

I had walked over to the little trunk where I kept Felicity’s clothes, and when I returned, Kitty was looking at me in an odd way. From the glow in her eyes, and her inability to sit still, I could tell she was bursting to tell me of her betrothal.

She grabbed hold of my hand. “Mary, I have some exciting news.”

I smiled. “What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Mr. Carstairs and I are engaged!”

I did not have the wherewithal to pretend total ignorance of the situation. “I confess Jane told me she thought you two might make a match.” She looked a little dejected, so I quickly embraced her and kissed her cheek. “I’m so happy for you, Kitty. I think he is a fine man.”

“Do you, Mary? I-I hardly allowed myself to become acquainted with him until after you left High Tor.” Her face flushed, but she went on. “I had so foolishly fixed my affections on Henry—he says I must call him by his Christian name now that I’m to be in the family—I had overlooked his cousin altogether. But I believe we are much better suited than Henry and I ever would have been.”

She hadn’t said she loved Mr. Carstairs, but her obvious delight at her betrothal signaled deep feelings for him. I tugged the white dress over Fee’s head and asked, “When did you first begin to feel an attraction to him?”

“After you left, Henry quit calling, but Andrew visited us every few days. He always had a funny story to tell me about one of his parishioners, or the things he and Henry got up to when they were boys. And he was so solicitous of my comfort. I felt more and more at ease with him, and after that, my esteem for him grew.” She smiled playfully. “It didn’t hurt that he was such a fine dancer!”

“I remember that,” I said, “from the evening at Linden Hall when we all danced. But I don’t believe you liked him then.”

I began pushing Felicity’s arms into the sleeves. We were quiet for a moment, and then Kitty said, “I’m sorry, Mary. My foolishness has caused pain for both you and Henry. I only hope it is not too late to repair things between you.”

I glanced up. Kitty’s head was tilted slightly and her brows were drawn together in a frown. Her expression was quite sincere, a quality not in evidence on the morning she apologized to me and then demanded I leave High Tor. I was astonished at her newfound confidence and maturity, proven by her willingness to shoulder some of the blame for the way things stood between Henry and me. Andrew Carstairs must be having a salutary effect on my sister. And it would have surprised me if Jane had not also had a hand in Kitty’s transformation.

I wasn’t certain, but I strongly suspected Jane had told Kitty of Henry’s proposal. “I’ve been foolish too, Kitty. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, and I am still not. Mr. Walsh and I parted on very ill terms. He expressed a good deal of anger and bitterness toward me. I’m not sure ‘repairing things’ is possible, or even desirable,” I said, picking up the baby and starting for the door. “Will Andrew speak to Papa today?” I asked, hoping to discourage any further questions.

“I believe he is doing so right now.”

We heard Lydia’s giggles on the way downstairs, and when we entered the drawing room, Mr. Carstairs and my father were indeed absent. Mr. Walsh and Charles were stranded with Mama and Lydia. Both men rose, and Charles immediately said, “At last, I have the pleasure of meeting my newest niece! May I hold her?” I passed Felicity into his arms.

“It’s surprising she is still alive, after Mary let her fall off the bed,” Lydia said in a scornful tone.

The room went quiet. I bit my lip, furious with myself because I could feel the cursed flush spreading upward from my neck. Now that I’d handed Fee over to Charles, I had nothing to do with my hands, nothing to occupy myself, so I simply stood there. Nobody leaped to my defense, and Lydia nattered on. “But she is the next best thing to a nursemaid. I declare, sometimes I believe Mary considers herself Felicity’s mama.”

That was too close to the truth to deny. I found a vacant seat and snapped out of my daze to see Henry Walsh studying me with kind eyes. He handed me a cup of tea, as he’d done on another occasion, at High Tor.

“Thank you,” I said, watching him. His look had swiftly reverted to one of indifference. He nodded briefly before walking over to Charles and taking Felicity from him. I gulped my tea, hoping its restorative powers would prop me up.

The drawing room door was thrown open, and Papa and Mr. Carstairs came through. “Well, Mrs. Bennet,” said my father. “It seems we are to have another wedding.”

Chapter 18

W
hat?” asked Mama, genuinely astonished. “I believe I misunderstood you.”

“No, no, you did not. Mr. Carstairs has asked for Kitty’s hand, and after he assured me she had already accepted him, I gave my consent.”

“Kitty! I am most put out that you did not tell your mama. But I forgive you, since this is such good news!” She wrapped her arms around Kitty and kissed her.

Setting my cup on the table, I rose and went to Mr. Carstairs. “May I wish you happy, sir?” I said, holding out my hand. He took it, and then kissed my cheek.

“You must call me Andrew from now on, Miss Bennet.”

“Then you must call me Mary, since we’re to be brother and sister.” I stepped aside so Mama could speak to him, and only then did I notice Lydia. Her eyes had gone cold. The laughing, carefree demeanor she’d shown when I first entered the drawing room had vanished. She was the only person still seated. Whether she was out of countenance because all the attention was now on Kitty and her intended or because she was thinking of the sad state of her own marriage, I could not say.

Charles and Papa were talking and smiling, and Mr. Walsh was still circling the room with Felicity in his arms. I knew she must be hungry, because she’d begun to fuss a little. After a moment, he stopped and said something to Lydia. “La!” I heard her say. “Not me. Give her to Mary.”

We walked toward each other, and he handed Felicity over to me.

“I’m afraid there’s not much I can do in this instance. She’s hungry, you see,” I said.

“Ah. I thought as much. But your sister—”

“No need to explain. I’ll speak to her.”

He half-smiled and nodded, and I went over to Lydia. “You must take her upstairs now.”

She scowled at me. “Don’t tell me what to do, Mary.” Then, when I hesitated before placing Felicity in her arms, “Oh, very well. Nobody here is paying me any notice.”

Just then Kitty approached. “Are you not going to wish me happy, Lydia?”

Lydia bristled. “I’m exceedingly vexed at you for keeping this a secret. You could have written. And I thought you were in love with that . . . other one.” She cocked her head toward Henry.

Kitty’s cheeks turned scarlet. “Keep your voice down! That was a . . . mistake. And you must see, I could not tell anyone before my parents knew,” Kitty said.

“Well, of course I wish you happy,” Lydia said, just before she marched out of the room with her child. Since this terse expression of good wishes had been forced out of her, I didn’t think it went too far in soothing Kitty’s hurt feelings. Andrew stood nearby and had witnessed the conversation. He and Kitty exchanged a look, and she actually smiled. In the past, Lydia’s displeasure would have upset her, and she might have remained out of spirits the rest of the evening. I thought Mr. Carstairs may have been the best thing that ever happened to Kitty.

T
he problem is, the new methods of drainage are expensive,” Charles said. “At least, that’s what Walsh tells me.”

Over our dinner of lamb and vegetables, the general air of cheerfulness that comes with happy news prevailed. Everyone except Lydia, who hunched over her meal in stony silence, was in good humor. I thought I’d perceived a slight thaw in Mr. Walsh’s smile earlier. Enough to allow me to hope he didn’t hate me. I couldn’t have borne it if he did. Had I forgiven him, then? He had neither apologized nor asked for forgiveness, so it was rather a moot point.

“One must use hollowed-out bricks or roofing tiles, so, yes, it is costly,” Mr. Walsh said. “What system are they using now?”

“Chiefly stones or faggots,” Papa said.

“That sort of deep trenching doesn’t last,” Mr. Walsh said. “In the end it is more expensive, because it must be repaired so often.”

“I fear it may be all we can afford,” said my father.

“Oh, may we not talk of something else?” asked Mama. “You men can talk of trenches and tiles over your port. For myself, I would like to know when this wedding will take place.”

Kitty darted a glance at her betrothed. “We should like it to be right away, Mama,” she said. “As soon as we can settle things.”

“The banns must be read, of course, and we must arrange for your bride clothes, my dear,” Mama said. “Meryton may not do . . . we may have to journey to Ware, or even London.”

I held back a laugh. Even Jane and Lizzy, who had both been betrothed to wealthy men, had had their bride clothes made by local seamstresses.

“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Bennet,” Papa said. “It’s not one of the princesses marrying, but our Kitty.” Everyone laughed, including Kitty and her fiancé.

Mama harrumphed. “You will be married from Longbourn, will you not?” she asked.

Kitty and her intended agreed this was their intention. Looking up, I noticed Mrs. Hill in the doorway.

“Is it Felicity?” I asked.

“Yes, miss.”

“I’ll go to her.” I excused myself and rose.

Little Fee had the habit of falling asleep for half an hour or so around dinnertime. She usually stayed awake and in good humor afterward, until seven thirty or eight o’clock. I lifted her from her bed and laid her down for a fresh nappie, making faces and saying nonsensical things, as women are wont to do with their babies. Quit thinking of her as yours, Mary
,
I told myself.

When that was done, I grabbed a rattle and made my way to the drawing room with Felicity. I could hear everyone just now rising from the table, and soon Mama, Lydia, and Kitty joined me.

“Mary, it would be nice to have some music tonight,” Mama said.

“I am out of practice.” The truth was, I hadn’t felt much like playing since I’d been home. Although it reminded me of the happy times at High Tor, it also dredged up memories I’d sooner have forgotten, like the night at the ball when I deliberately set out to humiliate myself, only to be rescued by Mr. Walsh.

“Oh, Mary, you must. Andrew and Henry both enjoy your playing so much!” Kitty said.

“But I cannot neglect Felicity,” I replied, trying to put them off.

“Nonsense!” Mama said. “There are plenty of people here to look after her, including her mother.” She sent Lydia a pointed glance. “I insist. Come along, now, and find some music.”

When the men entered the room, I was still sorting through the sheets of music. Mr. Walsh said nothing but took a seat near the pianoforte. I began to play a piece by Beethoven, the Sonata in C Sharp Minor, because I recalled that it was one of his favorites. Since I was so rusty, I knew I would probably regret it, but I wanted to please him. Music was the first thing that had made Henry take notice of me; perhaps it would serve that purpose again.

The piece was melancholy and the first movement played pianissimo. I needn’t have worried about my playing; all the sentiments I’d buried welled up and flowed from my fingers as they glided over the keys. My deepest feelings for both Henry and Felicity had become, in some mystifying way, intertwined. If I had accepted Henry’s proposal, perhaps he and I could have raised Fee together! My fingers strayed where they didn’t belong, jarring me out of my reverie.
Keep your mind on your playing. Don’t think of
him
.
And you are not Felicity’s mother!

I’d begun the second movement, the allegretto, and, since it was less familiar, forced myself to concentrate. The notes lifted, hung in the air, dissolved. I stole a glance at Henry. He was leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed.

I decided not to attempt the final movement. It was by far the most difficult and always intimidated me, with its many arpeggios. It required technical skill I lacked, and I couldn’t do it justice. When I started to rise, Mama said, “You must keep on, Mary! Play some Scottish airs. Something jolly!”

So I continued to play until the tea arrived. When at last I rose, my small audience clapped politely. Lydia came in behind the tea tray, and I noticed immediately Fee was not with her. I walked over and asked where she was.

“I’ve put her to bed. You are not the only one who knows how.”

“No, of course not.” I resisted the urge to ask if she’d changed the baby’s nappie and covered her in the softest blanket. Had she remembered her cap? Had she sung her a lullaby? I knew she would berate me in front of everybody if I mentioned any of these things, and I’d had my fill of that. I would simply check later to make sure everything was just as Felicity liked it.

I situated myself on the chaise, and Charles strolled over to converse with me. “Jane and I would very much like you to return with me to High Tor, Mary,” he said, seating himself beside me.

Did I look as shocked as I felt? “Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” I said. “Felicity needs me. I couldn’t leave her.”

“Are you certain of that? When she must, Lydia seems perfectly capable of tending to her needs.”

“I don’t think so, Charles. She
could
do so, but . . .” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “But she doesn’t seem to love the child. I couldn’t bear to think of Felicity without someone to love her.”

“Your mama shows her a great deal of affection, I’ve observed. Perhaps between the two of them, and Kitty will be here as well . . . I wish you would consider it, Mary. You must think of yourself sometimes, you know.”

“You are too kind, Charles, and I will consider it, of course,” I said, knowing full well I would not in a million years leave that baby to Lydia and Mama’s ministrations. And Kitty would be completely preoccupied with her impending marriage.

Mr. Walsh had been speaking to my father but now made his way over to us. “I’ve been trying to persuade Mary to return with us to High Tor,” Charles said. “Perhaps you will have more success than I. If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with my father-in-law.” When he walked away, Henry took his seat.

“May I compliment your playing, Miss Bennet?”

My face grew warm. “Thank you. I’m afraid I wasn’t brave enough to attempt the third movement.”

“No matter. The first two were enchanting.”

Feeling tongue-tied, I could only smile.

“Charles is right, you know. I believe your sister would welcome your company at High Tor. Especially since Kitty won’t be returning.” He watched me over the rim of his cup.

“It would be impossible for me to leave Longbourn at present.”

He merely nodded, and I was thankful he chose not to press me. “Did the news take you by surprise?”

Kitty’s news, he meant. “Not entirely. Jane had written to me about her suspicions. They seem to be a good match. His lightheartedness will offset her more melancholy disposition.”

“Just so. I can assure you of my cousin’s honorable and respectful nature, and he loves your sister.”

“Truly?”

“He told me so himself.”

I gave him a skeptical look. “I didn’t think men spoke of such things to each other.”

His smile seemed awkward, and I thought maybe I’d embarrassed him. “Most do not. But Andrew and I are more like brothers than cousins, and we’re in each other’s confidence.”

“Then I am doubly happy for them, that they have made a love match.”

“Would you call it that, then?” he asked. “Andrew is tenderhearted. I hope your sister wouldn’t willfully deceive him as to her true feelings.”

As I had done to him.
What else could he mean? He’d made it clear that was what he believed. But he had deceived me, too. The fault was not all mine. Despite my discomposure, I had to reply. “I believe Kitty to be quite sincere in her feelings for him.” I straightened my shoulders and looked him in the eye for a moment. “And if he really loves her, and is always truthful with her, I expect them to be quite happy.”

“Touché,” he said softly, his eyes watching me until I was forced to drop my gaze. “How do you think she will get on as a clergyman’s wife?”

I released a huge breath. “Given your cousin’s amiability, I believe she will fit the role. Andrew will always be there to steady her. In fact, I’ve already noticed a change in her, and must assume it’s due to his influence.” I glanced over at the couple, deep in conversation. “They seem very much at ease with each other. Away from Lydia’s influence, Kitty’s natural tendency to goodness will assert itself.”

He looked uncomfortable at the mention of Lydia. Perhaps I should not have spoken so of her to someone outside the family. “When does Mrs. Wickham return to Newcastle?” he asked.

“We don’t know.” I wondered if in the course of one of his talks with Charles, he’d learned the truth. I knew my brother-in-law was not prone to gossip, but he may have confided in the man he considered his closest friend, next to Mr. Darcy. “Things are as yet unsettled.” That seemed suitably vague.

“I see.”

Standing, I said, “If you’ll excuse me, I must check on the baby.”

He rose, too. We were nearly at eye level, as his height reached a mere few inches above my own. “You once told me you wished you were more proficient with children,” Mr. Walsh said. “It appears now that you are.” His expression had softened.

“Not according to Lydia,” I said, attempting a feeble joke.

“Do you think anyone believed her? That it was negligent Aunt Mary’s fault the child fell?”

I considered the question, relaxed a bit, and laughed. “I suppose not.”