Title: Comparisons and Complaisance
Rating: G
Summary: After the marriage of three Bennet daughters, and the fourth in courting, Mary Bennet is left as the only remaining daughter left to be wed. Always the oddball, Mary struggles in overcoming her complaisance and finding a person who will not compare her to her sisters like everyone does.
AN: Normally, when writing of an adaptation from Jane Austen's Pride And Prejudice, one is inclined to write of the relationship between Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy. However, I believe Austen's depiction to be pure masterpiece, and I will not dive into their relationship, as I doubt I would be able to do her justice in this timeless characters. I choose to write of Mary Bennet for she is the one least talked of in the novel by Austen, which leaves me with much creativity on my part to develop her character to whichever way I please. I hope you find nothing I write offensive in my portrayal of characters, and I am sure you will all be able to decipher between my own material/characters and that of the brilliant Jane Austen. Please feel free to give me any critics or whatever you feel like saying to me, for any commentary on my writing is greatly appreciated. So begins my first attempt of fanfiction towards Jane Austen…
Comparisons and Complaisance
AN: Also, before I begin, I would like to point out that I shall posting in chapter pairs,and I only use the "Part" in the title to show that is still a part of that particular volume. I hope my formatting for this story does not confuse any.
Volume I
1
Once the first steps are taken in a necessary task, the motivation to succeed in such a task in a more rapid pace than before possesses the body and soul of a person. For Mrs. Bennet, with four daughters out of home, her primary goal in life now rested within providing her last remaining daughter a place of her own.
"Mr. Bennet, did you see how Mr. Gallagher doted on our Mary? He shared three dances with her!" she reported after they settled indoors from another ball. "Such an amiable man, Mr. Gallagher is. Any woman would find themselves to be in quite a happy manner once in wedlock with him."
"Good grief, and I thought the bother was already through." Mr. Bennet looked up briefly from his book. "Four daughters out of the house within months of each other. Let us not push our luck any further, my dear. I am quite at my leisure as it may be, and Mary was never one to stir up mischief."
"Oh, Mr. Bennet, I know not why you think that four daughters gone may now imply that the last shall be just as well off. Mary still has not a penny to her name, and it matters not that her sisters are settled down nicely."
"Then, perhaps something may be done about it."
"Something done? Well, of course, something must be done! We cannot leave our last to fend for herself, Mr. Bennet. Are you going to suggest the means in which to help our Mary?"
"I trust that you already have a plan set and ready, my dear. I need not bother myself with worry over producing my own."
"You need not worry? Why, Mr. Bennet, I believe worry is exactly what is there. Mary is not half as handsome as the other girls, nor is she equally amiable.
"She does seem to have a pedantic air about her, I believe."
"The girl spends her days with her nose in a book! How can she expect to meet an agreeable man when she has not the time of the day to go out into the world as she should? Books cannot make for companions, especially when she needs to find herself into an engagement before she becomes too old to incite anything desirable for men."
"I rather disagree with you. Books provide very stimulating company during a lifetime. However, I do realize the necessity of Mary's engagement."
"How can you sit there when we require just as much effort in getting her married as we did for all the others? Possibly more, for she does not have the qualities that made our other girls such easy prey for men's affections. Are you listening? Mr. Bennet! Your support in the matter gives my nerves no relief!"
"There is no reason to have your nerves threatened in the situation. My dear, I understand you completely. We shall get Mary married, and with much haste, so as to provide your nerves some leisure, at last."
"So what do you think of Mr. Gallagher? Would he not be a fine match for Mary?"
"I am not well enough acquainted with the man to give a worthy opinion of the fellow."
"He is from the country, and not a man of much fortune, but he shall be a good provider when it comes down to it, I am sure. Mary will be close to home, if ever we have need for her, but a married woman's life does not provide for much time to spend for her own devices. She shall have a roof over her head, and a much devoted, respectable husband, which is the most we could possibly ask for her."
"Is his income stable? A farmer? They do stumble across many a barren year in their harvests, do they not?"
"We do not have the time to be picky, Mr. Bennet. Mr. Gallagher will do, and I am sure if he proposes, Mary will have the good sense to accept. She realizes her situation and, upon my insistence, there will be no doubt to their engagement and happiness."
"See, I knew well enough you had a plan devised all ready, woman."
2Mary Bennet was as much the oddball of the family, as she was the stranger. Her apparent plainness from a young age made her fade into the background of the family business until she seceded from her sisters entirely. The obvious undesirability of her appearance caused her to seek affections through other means, more particularly through numerous accomplishments. A slave to her enhancement, she isolated herself from all and did not dally over such trifles as ribbons, flowers, dancing, and meeting new people.
Her mother had an infamous habit of talking louder than need be, and, oft times enough, her tête-à-tête with her husband regarding Mary's circumstances was overheard by her.
It is not that I find my circumstances overbearing, for that is certainly not the intentions I have in writing of this, but I grow wearisome of it all. I am not like my sisters. I do not seek endeavors such as would thrust me towards the men of society and into wedlock. I do not flirt, nor do I ever intend to. Balls wear out my spirit, for when I tire of standing around in pursuit of a partner to no avail, I seek refuge in music, but even then papa comes forth and sends me away. Can they not realize that a quest for my own engagement will end in no triumphant marriage, for there be not a man in the entire country that shares the same feelings and situation as I, nor is there any so willing to accept me for what I am, in all of my plainness and complacence? It is not that I am not desirable in the least bit, for I have more accomplishments than many a woman I have seen wedded by a respectable man, but it is that no man will be willing to spend their time with a wife so homely as I, who does not dance or converse easily with others. There is no boisterous spirit within me, nor is there any affability, and I have accepted whole-heartedly my fate as a spinster.
Mary stirred from where she wrote in her room, once filled with nonstop talk from her two younger sisters, and walked to the mirror hung on the wall. She ran a hand over her lips, which seemed far too large for her face, as did her eyes, on a face that was too thin for such large features. She had a natural color to her cheeks, which might have been desirable, if her cheeks extended a bit further. Her nose had an aristocratic shape about it, as if ready to turn up the first person thrown her way, but it did her face no justice when it clashed with her less attractive attributes. Pulling her long hair, much darker than her other sisters, up as her older sisters do at balls, she searched deeply for an inclination that she had some handsomeness about her that all her other sisters possessed. When time seemed to have passed by substantially, she gave up in exasperation, jumping upon her bed in tears.
"If I were as handsome as my sisters, a man might realize my accomplishments! For it matters not how well endowed I am in my aptitudes such as talents and intellect if they never pass a glance my way for I am not handsome enough!"
"Mary?" Mrs. Bennet knocked on the door. "Child, are you asleep yet? We have an early day upon us in town. Do not stay awake too long into the night."
"Yes, mama, I am aware of our plans tomorrow. I am to blow out my candle this very moment."
And, with a blow of a candle, Mary Bennet extinguished the light and cried in the darkness.
"Such a lovely day, is it not, Mary?" Mrs. Bennet laughed. "Why, it is the perfect day to meet a man. Fortune could not have given us a better opportunity, and with so many people in town!"
"Where are your intentions to start, mama?" Mary inquired. "We should not detain the task at hand for talk of the weather."
"Always attentive to what is in need to be done," Mrs. Bennet remarked. "It is a quality every men should thrive upon their wives having. You will make a man a very devoted and assiduous wife someday, Mary."
"Believe me, when men take leave to notice anything beyond my looks, I am sure they may admit to that." Mary responded and continued before Mrs. Bennet could toss in her own two cents once more. "Where are we to begin, mama? You never told me."
"Why, we are off to seek Mr. Gallagher, of course!" Mrs. Bennet answered. "I heard just this morning from Mrs. Lucas that he was in town with his daughter to have her spring dress tailored."
"Mr. Gallagher?" Mary recalled the man from the previous night. "The one with the beard who is twenty years my senior? Mama, the man has a daughter only three years younger than I!"
"Hush, Mary! The man is very suitable, and he would be a very proper and most loyal husband."
"Except that he has married before."
"He is a widower, Mary. If your husband were to die, I am sure you would be out in society once more. No one wishes to remain alone in life, and a woman is unable to take care of herself in such a society."
"I would not might the independence at all."
"That is not an option. You are a sensible girl, and you should know well the scandal that would arise at you living on your own without a man. You would be a harlot, and I can not bear the scandal it would create for your sisters. They have a reputation to maintain and it would be dreadful to bestow such an unfavorable reputation their way."
"Above all else that I hope my sisters never receive in their lifetime, a bit of gossip of the family is most certainly my top priority in detaining."
"Really, Mary, until now I never knew you to be so sarcastic."
"Believe me, mama, I am sure there are many more qualities of myself which you are unaware of."
"Well, pray child, they are nothing that would make you less of a catch."
"Need we waste our time with Mr. Gallagher? He could have no business with me."
"No business with you? Why, if the man proposes, he shall have every bit of business with you."
"The man certainly will not propose to me if he can help it."
"Whyever not?"
"Why, his daughter cannot stand the sight of me. And he is very much in pursuit of a woman who may be a good model for his daughter. I have no desires of taking such a girl into my life. She is the most troublesome girl I have ever made acquaintance with."
"If Mr. Gallagher proposes, you are to accept, Mary. He is a good man, and you will make him a good wife. There is no doubt of the good providence of such a marriage."
"Oh mama, you cannot demand it from me."
"If you have any concern towards my poor nerves, you shall accept Mr. Gallagher to relieve them at last." Mrs. Bennet looked up and bowed. "Why, Mr. Gallagher! What as the chance of meeting you in town today?"
"I am here on the business of getting Margaret's dress tailored. We were detained when Margaret found another dress to her liking, which she demanded I get."
"With five daughters grown, I know exactly what it is that you speak of, Mr. Gallagher!" Mrs. Bennet laughed. "I have, many a time, had to spend a few pretty pennies to satisfy their vanities. But your daughter is very handsome, and I am sure she looked quite radiant in the dress."
"Yes, she looked very handsome in the dress, and the tailor was very generous and charged the dress for a fraction of the price. We are looking forward to a marriage soon enough for her."
"Married already? Is she not only fifteen?"
"She is, but there are some girls that are meant to marry at such a young age. I do believe you had a daughter yourself married at fifteen."
"Yes, you are correct, Mr. Gallagher. My Lydia married at that age."
"Then I am sure you understand this, as well?"
"Of course. You will not find a woman who can understand it more completely than I." Mrs. Bennet let out one last laugh and then remembered her business in the conversation. "Does not my Mary look lovely today?"
"Mary?" Mr. Gallagher turned for the first time to acknowledge her. "Why, yes, Mary does look a fair deal good today. How have you been, Ms. Bennet?"
"I have seen many a better day," Mary answered. "There are many things to do in the day."
"Very true, I must admit." Mr. Gallagher laughed. "I must be off though. I still am in need to stop by the blacksmith for some horseshoes. I do not recall the last time they were changed, and with so much field work to be done at home, I cannot have a horse ruined."
"I must be off as well, so much to be done in a day!" and, walking off without another word, Mrs. Bennet departed, leaving Mary standing before Mr. Gallagher.
"Oh, I…" Mary saw the confused look on Mr. Gallagher's face at her remaining where she was. "…I am off on my own errands as well. Good day to you, Mr. Gallagher."
"Good day to you too, Ms. Bennet."
Mary laughed briefly at the absurdity of Mr. Gallagher ever having feelings towards her. He had asked her to dance the previous night only because he had seen her often enough standing alone at balls, and felt she should have her fair share of jollity. She had been obliged and thankful for his kind gesture, but she knew there was no meaning beneath the surface of his actions.
"Wherever mama is off to, she expects me to spend my morning with Mr. Gallagher." Mary shook her head. "I suppose that means I have this time at my disposal to do whatever I please."
Grinning at the idea, Mary walked further into town in pursuit of a place where she may find a book to read or, perhaps, a piano to indulge her time in.