The Pursuit of Mary Bennet (19 page)

Chapter 21

U
nfortunately, one of the horses had gone lame. We limped into another coaching inn, delaying our arrival at High Tor by a few additional hours. When we drove in at last, Jane and David, and Elizabeth, with her twins, were all outside to greet us.

After giving Jane a kiss, Charles excused himself to wash and change.

“Won’t you stay and dine with us?” Jane asked Andrew and Mr. Walsh.

“You are too kind, ma’am. My mother will be impatient for my arrival. Andrew, are you coming with me?”

“Much as I would enjoy spending the evening with all of you,” Andrew said, “I’m afraid I am stuck with my cousin tonight. You’ll be seeing enough of me in the days to come.”

“You’ll join us for dinner soon? You and your mother, too, of course, Mr. Walsh.” Jane said she would send an invitation over, and after bidding us all good-bye, the two men rode off.

Lizzy’s twins, Fanny and Jane, pulled at my skirts, demanding my attention. I stooped down and kissed them both. They were two years old now, and I imagined what Felicity might look like when she was their age.

“Leave your aunt be, dears,” Lizzy said. “She’s tired after her long journey.”

“It’s all right. I’ve been so eager to see them. To see all of you. Where is Mr. Darcy?” I took a little hand in each of mine and allowed the girls to lead me into the house.

“Riding about the estate. Charles asked him to keep an eye on things while he was at Longbourn,” Elizabeth answered.

“We’re keen to hear all the news,” Jane said, eyeing me pointedly. “Aren’t we, Lizzy?”

Lizzy laughed her irrepressible laugh. “We are indeed, but only after you’ve had a chance to rest and wash up. You must be very tired, Mary.”

True enough. I was tired and aching from bouncing around in the coach for so long.

A
fter refreshing myself, I wandered downstairs and found Jane and Elizabeth strolling around the back garden, examining the borders. Bright yellow phlox, purple penstemon, and white helenium bloomed in bursts of color.

“What do you think, Mary?” Jane asked. “What does this border need? Besides cutting back?”

“Something red, perhaps? You know I am not good with color or design.”

“I believe she is right, Jane. About the red, I mean,” Lizzy said. She linked her arm with mine and steered me toward a bench. “Tell us, Mary, how did you find Kitty?”

“Very much changed, just as Jane said. She even stood up to Lydia on occasion, although tentatively. And she apologized for her part in separating me from Mr. Walsh.”

Jane ambled toward us. “I
am
curious . . . what was Lydia’s reaction to Kitty’s news?”

“To say the truth, I was sorry for Kitty. Lydia didn’t wish her happy until Kitty rather pitifully asked her to do so. And then her felicitations were barely civil. I daresay she’s been out of spirits ever since hearing the news.”

“We may rest easy, I think, in believing Andrew’s influence will outweigh Lydia’s,” Jane said. “But do we need to worry about Kitty and Lydia being thrown together these few months before the wedding?”

“I saw nothing to make me believe they were taking up their former ways with each other. Kitty is already preoccupied with wedding plans, and I don’t think she would do anything to make herself look bad in Andrew’s eyes.”

“We shall have to trust in your judgment,” Jane said.

Both my sisters continued to stare at me, so pointedly I could not help laughing. “Why do you look at me that way?”

Lizzy tipped her head and flashed a devious smile. “I’m quite sure there is something else that needs telling.”

I feigned lack of understanding. “What is it you wish to know?”

“Everything about you and Mr. Walsh,” Lizzy said, making a sweeping motion with her hand. “For heaven’s sake, isn’t it obvious?”

“He was as gentlemanly and polite as ever,” I said, foolishly hoping that would be the end of it.

“Mary!” Jane said. “You can’t leave it at that. We want the details.”

So I gave them an abbreviated version of Mr. Walsh’s visit to Longbourn. “He was noticeably cool to me upon his arrival. In fact, he seemed indifferent. It was what I expected.”

“And then?”

“And then, after our being in each other’s company for more than a fortnight, he assumed a more tender manner toward me. He complimented me on my playing and on my care of Felicity. And brace yourselves . . . Mama even did a bit of matchmaking.”

“Good heaven, no!” Lizzy said.

“Only with me, not him, thank goodness. One evening she insisted I walk out with him, Kitty, and Andrew while she and Lydia put Felicity to bed. I did, and it was lovely. I nearly didn’t go, because we could hear Fee screaming from the open windows. Henry—uh, that is, Mr. Walsh, marched into the house and snatched her away from Mama and Lydia. If you could have seen their expressions!”

Jane laughed, covering her mouth genteelly. “You can call him Henry with us, Mary.”

“He’s very good with children. I think you both know he has a daughter?”

They nodded, looking a bit embarrassed.

“On the trip here, he rode in the chaise with me for a short while. He said he wanted me to meet her.”

My sisters were listening closely. “What are your feelings on that, Mary?” asked Jane.

“I’ll be happy to make her acquaintance, but I’m trying not to read too much into it.”

“I understand,” Lizzy said. “But there’s a reason behind his desire for you to meet her. He wouldn’t introduce her to just anybody.”

“Oh, Mary,” Jane said. “That can only mean one thing.”

“That he wants me to be her governess?”

That caused us all to crow with laughter.

“Mary is right to be cautious,” Lizzy said.

Don’t say that.
It was no more than I myself believed, but hearing someone give voice to it only served to bolster my own doubts. “Because of this . . . Miss Bellcourt?” I asked. I decided that if they knew something, I might as well hear about it now. “You mentioned her in a letter, Jane. She sounds like the ideal wife for him.”

“Oh, no!” Jane said. “I was only trying to goad you into coming back here.”

“But they danced together, and he called on her—”

“I may have invented the part about his calling on her,” she said sheepishly.

“Jane!”

“I do beg your pardon, Mary. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ve heard nothing more about any meetings between them. If I were better acquainted with her, I’d be more capable of judging whether she’s the kind of woman he would like.”

“I would think any man would like her fortune well enough,” I said, which broke the tension. “Has he spoken of her to you or Charles?”

“Not to me,” Jane said. “That would hardly be likely. Maybe to Charles. I’ll ask him.”

“No, don’t,” I said, mortified. “He might tell Henry I was inquiring.”

“It would be me doing the inquiring, but I won’t say a word if you’d rather I did not.”

Lizzy looked at me thoughtfully. “If Henry were to offer for you again, would you accept him?”

Would I? I hardly knew. “If I thought he loved me . . . but it seems unlikely that his feelings have changed over such a short time. I can’t bear the thought of marrying him only for Amelia’s sake. Knowing he only
liked
me.”

“Love can surprise you,” Elizabeth said. “Some people wed without thought of love, and it sneaks up on them.”

“And others remain in loveless marriages their whole lives. I don’t want that. Both of you married for love; should I be satisfied with anything less?”

Jane smiled mischievously. “I might settle for less with such a man as Henry Walsh.”

Lizzy interrupted. “Of course not, if such a union would bring you pain.”

“Think of our parents,” I said. “What if I married Henry and in the end, instead of eventually loving me, he had nothing but contempt for me?” We were silent for a long moment, and I knew we were all thinking about the same thing: the sarcastic and contemptuous way in which Papa invariably addressed our mother. The fact that he spent every day taking refuge in his library. There was no joy in their union, and it had been so as far back as I could remember. I felt tears gathering and blinked them away.

Sniffing a little, I said, “I have Fee now. She loves me completely. Unconditionally. I can live without Henry’s love if I must, because I’ll always have her.”

An odd look lasting only a few seconds passed between Jane and Lizzy. Perhaps they didn’t believe I could be happy without Henry.

“Just one more question, Mary. Do you love
him
?” Jane asked.

Confiding this would make me susceptible to their pity if nothing further happened between Henry and me. If he had absolutely no intention of offering for me again, if he were only the earnest, friendly neighbor, ready to find love with someone else, they would know I’d given him my heart in vain. But I wanted to tell them. “Yes. I believe I do,” I said, smiling shyly. “But I cannot be certain that his feelings toward me have changed.”

My sisters dissolved into squeals of happiness. They giggled and looked at me with tender expressions. To them, it was already settled. As I lay awake in bed that night, I thought about being Henry’s wife. My skin prickled at the memory of his hand enfolding mine, how it had sent tingles through me. What would it be like to kiss him? To share a marriage bed with him? My stomach jumped.
Oh my,
I thought
. Oh my.

A
proned and wearing old shoes and gloves, Jane, Lizzy, and I worked on the borders. The gardener could have done this job, but Jane desired it to be her particular responsibility. She was pruning and pulling up dead foliage, while Lizzy and I planted crimson pelargonium, cultivated in High Tor’s greenhouse. We had spent the better part of two weeks planning and working on this project.

“Mary,” Lizzy said, in such a way that it made me think I would not like what followed.

I peered at her from under my bonnet brim and waited.

“Jane and I are worried that you’ve become too attached to Felicity.” My stomach lurched, spiraling downward. Did she know something I was not privy to? I noticed Jane sidling her way toward us.

“Have you received a letter? Do you have news? To own the truth, I have been wondering why we’ve not heard from any of the family,” I said, my voice shaky.

I must have turned pale, because both my sisters looked concerned. “Come, sit in the shade, dear,” Jane said. She poured me glass of water from a jug we’d carried outside with us. “No letters. You know neither Mama nor Papa, and certainly not Lydia, spends any time in that occupation. And Kitty will be too busy with wedding plans.”

“Why did you say that about Felicity?” I asked. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” Removing my gloves, I felt beads of perspiration popping up on my skin, and I wiped at them with the back of my hand.

“Oh, no!” Lizzy said. “Only, when Lydia leaves Longbourn, Felicity will go with her, that is all. We worry about your being hurt if that should come to pass.”

I thought a moment before replying. “It is true I am much devoted to her. I love her like a mother would, I think. But I’m not worried. There’s little chance of Lydia ever leaving Longbourn again.”

“In that belief, I think you are mistaken,” Lizzy said. “Lydia will chafe at confinement with only our parents for company. Who knows what scheme she will work up to make her escape?”

“But Wickham doesn’t want her,” I said. “And once people learn the truth . . . she will not be welcomed in society.” That this should please me made me feel the worst kind of sister imaginable.

“If I know Mama, she will see to it that the truth is never fully known,” Jane said. “She will place all the blame on Wickham and deny Lydia’s indiscretions. And who’s to say she will not be believed? After all, it would be her word against Wickham’s, a known liar and villain.”

“I can’t imagine what would be the means of her escape,” I said. “And even if she managed it, there would be no place for Fee in it. Lydia has shown so little interest—”

“While you are away, she must be tending to Felicity,” Jane said. “You know Mama will do the barest minimum possible, so Lydia will be forced to do so.”

An unladylike sound escaped my lips. “She’s probably found a way to get one of the servants to do it.”

“Mary,” Lizzy said, turning to me with a sober expression, “what do you envision for Felicity’s future? And your involvement in her life?”

The question made me uncomfortable, because I had only a vague, shadowy notion of what the future might bring. I couldn’t imagine life without her. Should I confess I’d imagined marriage to Henry and our raising Fee together? No. They might think I was unhinged.

“I don’t think about it.” It was true, for the most part. Being separated from her simply didn’t enter my mind, perhaps because the idea was entirely unbearable. Even this conversation made me want to flee back to Longbourn.

Partly to change the subject, but also because I truly wished to know, I asked them a question. “I’ve been wondering if Henry knows the truth of Lydia’s situation. Has Charles told him?”

Jane looked shocked. “No! We decided it was best not to speak of it to anybody.”