A Notion of Love
Chapter 1: Sensible Girls Do Not Simply Fall in Love
You said that you love the rain,
But you stretch out your umbrella,
When it rains.
You said that you love the sun,
But you find a shade,
When it shines.
You said that you love the wind,
But you close all the windows,
When it blows.
That is why I am afraid,
that you will say the same,
to me too.
—Korkuyrum
It wasn't that the idea of love was repulsive to her. Although she was not a natural social butterfly like the rest of her sisters, Mary Bennet still clung onto the notion of love. But, unlike her sisters (more or less the two younger ones-Lydia and Kitty) she was far more level-headed. She did not indulge in the distant fantasy that a handsome man would appear and sweep her off her feet. No, logic and experience dictated that she would have to be more engaging at balls, a thought which abhorred the young Miss Bennet. However, a far more secretive side of her (which she kept on smothering with her logical mind) loved the idea but with a far more sensible scene paralleling on her eldest sister Jane and her husband, Mr. Charles Bingley.
But being a sensible, logical young woman, Mary Bennet had given up the idea of love was meant for her life. She had accepted her fate: to be an old spinster, an old maid (something her mother had always muttered darkly whenever she went against her mother's will). Mary kept her nose stuck in a book most of the time, occasionally writing here and there to indulge her wandering mind. All she knew, throughout the whole day, was to avoid her mother and sister as much as possible. Once was more than enough to last her an entire lifetime. (Mary was found in her small haven of the library and much to her horror, her mother and sister had entered and sat across from her, gossiping and telling her such irrelevant news. Much to her irritation, they did not leave the small room, telling the servants to bring tea into the library. That was more than enough for Mary. She had promptly closed her novel that she was reading and left the room.
"Mary! Oh where is that wretched daughter of mine? Mary!"
The elder Miss Bennet pursed her lips at being disturbed during her peacefully reading. Placing a feather to mark her spot, Mary closed her well-worn leather book, placing it softly on the wooden dresser. Slowly, just to be compassionate to her mother's nerves, Mary deliberately took dainty, lady-like steps down the stairs, hands clasped in front of her gracefully. Halting in front of the drawing room door, Mary closed her eyes, steeling herself for what news her mother was going to deliver to her. Taking a deep breath, Mary opened the door. Much to her surprise, however, it was not her mother that sprung upon her. Rather, it was her younger sister, Kitty, who had wrapped her arms around Mary's neck, jumping up and down excitedly. Unused to the sudden affection (usually this was with Lydia or her mother), Mary froze, standing still like marble statue, watching carefully as Kitty grinned widely at her.
"What is going on?" She asked quizzically, tilting her head to the side.
"Oh, Mary!" Kitty sighed, sinking into the very comfortable lounge. A blissful look entered her soft brown eyes as a dreamy smile curved her lips. "You will never guess what this letter is about!"
Mary's eyes flickered to the folded parchment lying on the table; there seemed to be a something familiar about the written penmanship. However, before she could take a closer look, the parchment was snatched underneath her nose and waved into her face. Mary blinked quickly, taking steps backward, startled. A disapproving frown was on her lips, a disdainful look in her eyes while waiting for Kitty to explain.
"Lizzy wrote to tell us that she is going to throw Jane a celebration for her birthday!" Kitty gleefully explained, clutching the parchment to her chest. "And she has invited us to join in the celebration. Perhaps there I may be able to find a suitable husband for me, Mama! A handsome suitor who will sweep me off my feet!"
"Yes, Kitty, that would be wonderful!" Mrs. Bennet agreed with a sigh. "Oh, to see dear Kitty married to a rich, handsome man. And Mary, perhaps we might find a suitor of some sorts for you as well."
Mary snorted, much to her mother's displeasure at her unlady-like action. "I think, Mother," Mary spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. "That proposition is very...unwise. After all, I am to become an old spinster, just like how you predicted."
"Oh, you wretched child! How dare you play on my precious nerves like that! Do you delight in wreaking my nerves like this? My, if you keep this up, dear child, no man will want you."
"And I them," Mary muttered darkly, turning on her heel, quickly walking out of the room before her mother could yell after her. Closing the door behind her, Mary turned the corner only to bump into a dark figure. A surprised gasp escaped her lips, only to recognize her father.
"Papa!"
"Off to reading your book once more, Mary?" Mr. Bennet asked, peering into her eyes with his bright-blue ones. There was a knowing look in his eyes, with perhaps, a glint of amusement. Mary could not help but feel like a young child once more, sneaking out from the uninteresting lessons. Mary bowed her head as if she was ashamed of her just-recent actions.
"Er, yes, Papa," Mary replied. Mr. Bennet nodded, slipping into his office quietly, not to disturb his wife and his younger daughter. Flushing red, Mary hastily ran up the stairs, snatching her book off the desk and out of the house. Quickly, she lengthened her hasty strides down a familiar pathway. Puffing for air, a determined look entered her eyes as she continued down the winding trail down to a familiar sanctuary for her. A sigh escaped her lips as she sank down into the bed of high grass. Prying her book open carefully to the marked pages, Mary allowed the faded print to take her Vienna, where the tragic fated pair of star-crossed lovers was destined to meet.
Opening her eyes, Mary squinted at the fluffy, cotton-like clouds dotting along the sky. Kitty's dim laugh began to increase in volume, along with her mother's incessant chatter. Mary heaved a sigh, as she grasped her novel, half-asleep. Much to her horror, her fingers only caught air. Fully awake, Mary's eyes widen, seeing that her book was not in her lap. Leaning forward, Mary searched for her book, wondering if it had fallen onto the floor of the carriage. Much to her surprise, however, a familiar-leather bound book entered her vision. Stunned, Mary blinked twice before taking the book from her amused father.
"I took the liberty of holding it for you, daughter," he spoke quietly. "I did not want this book flying into the muddy road, forgotten."
"'Tis a grave misfortune, indeed," her mother sniffed. "Mary, child, how can you stand such a book? It is battered, worn, and old. Why look at the bindings! It's being held together by a thread."
Mary decided to whole-heartedly block out her mother's voice. Thankfully, she was saved by the impeccable timing of Kitty's loud squeal, drowning out her mother's voice. In doing so, the younger Miss Bennet had diverted her mother's attention onto herself.
"Kitty, please! Have some compassion for my poor nerves!
"But Mama," Kitty pouted with a huff. "Look! There, just right up ahead! I do believe that the estate there belongs to Mr. Bingley and Jane! Oh, Mama, look, look!"
Mrs. Bennet immediately turned to look outside of the carriage; there was a sharp intake of a gasp as a wide smile curved her lips. "Oh, my dear Kitty, I do believe you are correct! That manor could only belong to Mr. Bingley and Jane, for there is no finer house. We do must hurry, for I am greatly longing for my eldest daughter."
Mrs. Bingley was immediately attentive to the details of the fine manor, all of her irritation clean off her face. Mary peered over the top of her novel meeting with her father's piercing blue eyes, both of them sharing a look as they automatically began to tune out the idle chattering voices of Mrs. Bennet and the younger daughter of hers.
Caroline Bingley was not as ecstatic as her brother and his wife were to greet the Bennets. She had whole-heartedly disapproved of her brother's marriage. Why, she even loathed the fact that dear Mr. Darcy had chosen the ill-mannered Elizabeth Bennet instead of her. She was far more respectable than the country-dwelled young woman. Her lips thinned into a tight line, abhorring the idea of the Bennet family coming to stay—even for a simple week, as her brother had told her. Simple week, ha! Caroline Bingley wanted to tell her dear brother that with that family, it would not be simple at all. Not with the mother crying about and the younger Miss Bennet flashing around with laughter. It would be just like the Netherfield Ball all over again. However, Caroline thought as a ghost of a smile curved her lips, there were some entertainments at that ball. Namely, in the form of Miss Mary Bennet, the middle daughter of the five Bennet sisters, who had decided that her skills were proficient enough on the pianoforte.
"What are you smiling about, Caroline?"
The young Miss Bingley, whose brows were furrowed in irritation, turned around to see her smirking friend entering the terrace, walking up slowly to her side. The young woman walked in dainty, lady-like steps, careful to not muss her new pale muslin dress that she had just recently purchase in London.
Caroline greeted her friend with a cat-like smile, waiting patiently for her friend to arrive to her side. Others walked to her, not her to them. Once her friend reached her side, Caroline took her friend's arm, wounding it around hers as she guided them to the large garden-like maze below. "I was thinking about an entertainment that might amuse us for this dreaded week, dear Alice."
"Oh?" The fair-haired young woman raised a perfect eyebrow, her lips curving in a huge smirk. "Pray, do tell me, for I am eager to hear. Come now, Caroline, for you know that you cannot keep a secret from me for too long. Have we not known each other for many years now?"
Caroline smirked, turning her head away from her friend to gaze out at the tall garden, her eyes admiring the silent beauty for a brief moment before turning to her golden-haired friend. "As you know, the blemished Bennet family is arriving today for the celebration of my dear sister."
"I've heard," Alice replied dryly, a hint of a smile on her lips. "It seems that your brother holds them in high esteem, Caroline."
"For reasons I cannot fathom," Caroline scoffed disdainfully, lifting her chin subtly, trying to regain the conversation in her favor. "As I was saying, Alice, our source of entertainment will be from the two silly Bennet daughters."
"Ah, the two unmarried ones?"
"Precisely," Caroline nodded. "Specifically, the elder one. Mary is her name, I believe. A meek, plain, silly girl who believes herself to be far more superior than others because she believes that she is rather accomplished."
Alice snorted. "I believe I see where you are going with this, my dear friend," Alice grinned as the two friends began to place their heads together, preparing themselves for the silly family that was to arrive.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. I am just respectfully borrowing from Jane Austen.