Read The Pursuit of Mary Bennet Online
Authors: Pamela Mingle
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #General
“What would please you, Mary?” Henry asked.
I did not really need to think about it at all. I wanted to marry from High Tor, where we had met and fallen in love. But I didn’t want to appear too eager, or there would be ruffled feathers to smooth. “I like the idea,” I said. “If my parents are in agreement.”
So it was decided. Henry and I would be married from High Tor, in a month’s time. My mother protested at first. “I cannot possibly prepare for another wedding in such a short time!”
“But, Mama,” Lizzy said, “we will all take part in the preparations.” Casting me a mischievous glance, she added, “As we did for Kitty’s wedding.”
“I hope Henry will not change his mind when he hears the news, but I will not be embroidering pillowcases or handkerchiefs or anything else. So we need set aside no time for that.” I turned to look at him. “I detest needlework,” I said, pulling a face. “Do you wish to cry off?”
“I’m sure my mother would agree we have more than enough embroidered linens. Besides,” he added, “you won’t get rid of me that easily.”
W
hen did you first know you liked me?” I asked Henry later that day. I’d lost some of my shyness around him and even could tease him a little. We were seated together on the sofa, the rest of the family having apparently decided to allow us a bit of privacy.
“When I first met you at High Tor. There was something in your manner, perhaps your reserve, I was attracted to. I liked hearing you play the pianoforte. But you took no notice of me. At least not then.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong. I was very conscious of your watching me, although at that time I never believed you could be interested in me.”
He grinned. “Foolish girl. It was a long time before I had the pleasure of seeing you again, however.”
“Indeed, I had no idea of returning. Jane forced me into it, after Lydia arrived at Longbourn with her shocking news.”
“I am indebted to both your sisters, then. To Lydia for her indiscretions and Jane for her good sense. What about you, Mary? Did you like me at all then?”
I felt my cheeks warm but decided to tell the truth. “Oh, yes. The more I knew you, the better I liked you. I believe it was after the picnic that I decided I was quite smitten.”
“So I wasn’t mistaken in thinking you cared for me! I felt it keenly at Linden Hall. What happened to turn you away from me, Mary? Can you tell me now?”
“It wasn’t just one thing, you know.”
He sighed, only half serious. “Tell me all my sins.”
“It started with Kitty. I must have your promise never to let on to her that I revealed this to you. She would die of mortification.”
“I already suspected she was involved.”
“After the day at Linden Hall, she told me you were meant for her, that you were her last chance to get a husband. She begged me to step aside. To leave High Tor, in fact.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I refused, although I did give her some sisterly advice about how she might win you.”
One corner of his mouth curled up and he said, “And what exactly was your advice?”
I smiled teasingly. “She didn’t like the fact that you always talked to me instead of her, so I told her to read and behave with more decorum. I said in that way, she might transform herself into someone interesting.”
He shook his head, puzzled. “I never noticed any difference in her manner toward me.”
“That’s because she abandoned any thought of changing when you didn’t respond immediately. Ironically, looking back on it, I advised her to be more like me, while I endeavored to be more like her.”
“Good God, no! In what way?”
I didn’t know how much to tell him without embarrassing myself, but in for a penny, in for a pound. “She had said I wasn’t pretty.” He started to protest, but I stopped him. “I suppose I took her comments to heart, because I chose the apricot gown for the ball, and had my hair done in a more becoming fashion. I thought to please you.”
“And nothing went according to plan that night, for either of us. I did notice how lovely you looked, though, which I believe I mentioned the following day.”
“Yes, well, by then the damage was done, wasn’t it? Oh, don’t look that way—I can laugh about it now! After the ball, I convinced myself you liked me but would never
love
me. I was sure you would choose Kitty, or one of the other younger girls who were following you around that night.”
His eyes were grave. “I didn’t love you the first time I proposed. Oh, I cared for you a great deal, but I didn’t love you yet. I’m sorry if I hurt you, Mary.”
“It did hurt at the time, but I see now everything was for the best. I needed Felicity in my life. I needed her love, as she needed mine. Were you surprised when I declined your offer?”
“Yes, and confused. Because all our dealings with each other had been so harmonious. I thought we were well matched. But I see now that was rather a cold view of the matter. Not precisely the way a man should approach the woman he wishes to marry.”
“I was so angry with you, for ignoring me at the ball and not telling us about Amelia. I couldn’t believe you had the audacity to propose. Then I had that awful moment when I was convinced you wanted me only because you believed I would be a good mother.”
“I hate thinking about that day. I was a fool.”
I toyed with one of the sofa cushions. “I’ve been wondering, when exactly
did
you begin to love me?”
His eyes gleamed with amusement, but he answered without hesitation. “At Longbourn, when Charles and I were there. You had a new vitality, and more confidence than you’d ever shown before. And Bristol made me certain. You experienced the worst loss imaginable and bore it with grace. That was when I knew beyond a doubt that my heart belonged to you.”
“Another reason I will always love Felicity. I thought you pitied me most of all.”
“Never. I felt a deep sorrow for what you were suffering because of Fee. If you interpreted it as pity, well, you were wrong.”
Henry reached for my hands. “Will it hurt you to know I
did
believe you would be a good mother to Amelia? Because I did . . . I do. But that was only
after
I loved you.”
He drew me close. We were quiet for a moment, preoccupied with other things. He finally released me, but kept hold of my hand.
“Why did you help us find Lydia?”
“How could I not? I knew how strong your attachment to Felicity was. Although I believe my motives were unselfish, deep down I hoped my actions might give us a new beginning.”
“And did you come here with the idea of offering for me?”
He laughed a little. “Oh, yes. I intended to propose the day before the wedding. But then you announced your plan to become a governess, and I thought perhaps I’d misread you once again.”
“I still had unreasonable doubts about your intentions. In any case, I thought you were about to tell me you were engaged.”
“I understand,” he said. “But it did give me a scare.”
I reached up and touched his cheek. “Loving you has eased the sting of losing Fee.” I laid my head upon his shoulder, and the soft wool of his coat pressed into my face. The feel of it reminded me of the day he’d picked me up and carried me out of the river. In a minute, I heard voices in the hall, most assuredly a warning from the family that they were about to enter the room.
I started to pull away, but he held me against him. As though he thought I might disappear if he let me go. “I love you, Mary Bennet,” he said, and kissed my mouth sweetly.
We pulled apart when the door opened and our laughing relations poured into the room. “You must wait for the nuptials, Walsh!” Charles said.
“Oh, let them alone,” Elizabeth countered.
I drew him down for another kiss, folding into his embrace. For once in my life, I didn’t care what the family thought.
My deepest gratitude to my agent, Steven Chudney, for believing in this book and delivering it into the hands of Rachel Kahan and Amanda Bergeron at William Morrow. Thank you, Amanda, for your editorial insights and gentle guidance. Thanks also to the behind-the-scenes professionals who had a hand in bringing
The Pursuit of Mary Bennet
to publication.
Five years ago I joined the Jane Austen Society of North America (JASNA) and began attending the meetings of the Denver/Boulder chapter. The members, with their comprehensive knowledge of all things Austen, rekindled my love of the six novels and greatly enhanced my understanding of Jane Austen and her time.
Among the numerous resources about Austen, I found David M. Shapard’s
The Annotated Pride and Prejudice
the most essential. So many details, big and small, explained in one handy volume!
Thanks to my husband, Jim, and daughter, Katie, my loyal first readers. Katie in particular helped me find the heart of this story with her sure grasp of character. To my critique group, the Wild Folk, you nourish, encourage, and sustain my writing. I couldn’t do without you.
I often wonder what Jane Austen would make of all the sequels featuring her characters. Perhaps she would say one thing in public, and something entirely different—with a little bite to it—in a letter to her sister Cassandra. Here’s hoping she would be, if not kind in her criticism of my work, at least a bit amused.
Meet Pamela Mingle
Greg Cradick
P
AMELA
M
INGLE
, a former teacher and librarian, lives in Lakewood, Colorado. She is the author of
Kissing Shakespeare
, a time-travel romance for young adults set in Elizabethan England (Delacorte Press, 2012). Pamela is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, Pikes Peak Writers, Romance Writers of America, and the Jane Austen Society of North America. She and her husband are frequent visitors to the United Kingdom, where they enjoy walking and visiting historical sites.
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Why I Wrote
The Pursuit of Mary Bennet
by Pamela Mingle
A
N INTENSE LONGING
for more of Jane Austen is what compels the sequel writer and reader. More of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, more of Elinor and Edward, more of Emma and Mr. Knightly. When Jane Austen died, tragically, at the age of forty-one, she left her work unfinished and her readers unsatisfied. With great longing, we imagine eight novels, not six. If only she’d had a chance to complete
Sanditon
and
The Watsons
. And if she’d lived to be as old as her sister and mother, she might have written many other novels.
Pride and Prejudice
and the five Bennet sisters stand at the head of the parade of Austen’s memorable characters. About Elizabeth Bennet, Jane Austen said, “I must confess that I think her as delightful a character as ever appeared in print, and how I shall be able to tolerate those who do not like her, at least, I do not know.”
But a story about Mary, the most maligned Bennet sister? Perhaps I did not always like her as well as I do now. She grew on me.
Mary, of course, is overshadowed by the other sisters, as we lose ourselves in the stories of Elizabeth and Jane and Lydia. In the first few readings of
Pride and Prejudice
, Mary barely registers with the reader. Sometimes I wondered why Jane Austen had included her in the story at all. Though she provides a little comic relief, she’s nowhere near as fully drawn as Mr. Collins or Lady Catherine. Nor is she sympathetic, except in the Netherfield ball scene, when Mr. Bennet dismisses her playing so cruelly.
Did there need to be five daughters to prove how diligently the Bennet parents were trying for an heir? David Shapard, editor of
The Annotated Pride and Prejudice
, suggests that by including a fifth daughter, Austen renders each individual daughter’s financial plight more dire, further limiting their marriage prospects and giving the heroines added obstacles to overcome.
In the novel, we find Mary mentioned only about a dozen and a half times. Most often, these are not actual scenes in which she speaks. She isn’t lively or beautiful, like Elizabeth and Jane. Nor is she flirtatious or outrageous, like Kitty and Lydia. Instead, like so many middle siblings, Mary is isolated, not really a part of the camaraderie shared by the pairings of her elder and younger sisters. Left to her own devices, she tries to find her niche, but her attempts make her seem more foolish than appealing.
Aside from the novel, the many adaptations of
Pride and Prejudice
for television and film color our perceptions of Mary. In the 1940 movie version, she is part of the sisterly circle, but still a caricature. In the iconic 1995 version of
Pride and Prejudice
, the family tolerates her because she is, after all, one of them. She spouts her platitudes, and the other characters roll their eyes. The 2005 film portrays her as a young girl who is afraid of society and is always the last one to know the latest gossip shared by her sisters. At least in this version, we see her in a more sympathetic light, especially after her father humiliates her. He finds her weeping and comforts her.
So as a character, Austen leaves Mary unformed, except in the most basic way. For an author who wanted to try her hand at a sequel, this was not a shortcoming, but an opportunity. Mary was rich with possibilities. With Mary, I could begin anew and develop her into a character readers would care about.
We know that Mary lacks common sense, like her mother, and is studious, like her father. Those qualities formed the jumping-off point for my book. In the beginning, Mary’s worst traits still dominate, along with something new: a simmering anger regarding her prospects, her family’s expectations of her, and her own perception of herself. When Henry Walsh enters the picture and begins to show an interest in her, she’s thrown completely off-balance. She doesn’t know how to accept a man’s addresses, nor is she even sure she wants to.
This story, then, is about both the pursuit of Mary by Henry, and Mary’s own pursuit of a future and an identity of her own.
Most of the Austen-inspired sequels are written in third person. I decided to write
The Pursuit of Mary Bennet
in first person, as the truest path to Mary’s heart and mind, the best way to get close to her. Just as Mary knows she can never be Jane or Elizabeth, I knew I could never write in the voice of Jane Austen. Rather, in borrowing her characters and striving to stay true to their essential natures, I’ve tried to write in the spirit of Austen.
My best hope is that Mary, through my imagining of her life after
Pride and Prejudice
, may turn out to be a delightful character in her own right.
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