Disclaimer: Pride and Prejudice and every character of the book belongs to Jane Austen
Summary: How an odd, plain duckling conquered the ton's most eligible bachelor and didn't even ask for it. First story in the series " The Silliest Girls in England".
Prologue
On the day Mrs. Bennet died the sun was shining brightly and birds were chirping a joyful melody.
As usual, she had complained about her nerves and decided to take an afternoon-nap, never knowing that this was the last action she performed on earth.
It was Kitty who found her, joyful, naïve Kitty with her too big heart who couldn't stop crying for two whole days.
She had entered the room and called cheerfully out to her mother to finally wake-up before this beautiful day ended without knowing that her mother's day ended for the final time.
Frantically she had grabbed Mrs. Bennet's shoulders and shook her but to no avail.
Kitty's cries summoned her older sister Mary, the intelligent, virtuous Mary with her too big words and well-meant advices who couldn't sleep for two whole days.
Mary was smart.
She prided herself for her perceptiveness although this quality was never appreciated from anyone.
She knew what was wrong at a single glance but she couldn't act, couldn't speak, could only stare.
Mr. Bennet wasn't home, spending his days in Pemberly to dote upon his favorite daughter and her newborn child.
Mrs. Bennet wanted to accompany him but Mr. Bennet could persuade her to stay in order to watch over their home because obviously Kitty and Mary couldn't accomplish this task.
The news will reach him in two days and he will immediately make his way to Meryton without listening to Darcy who tells him to wait a few hours so he can take the fastest coach in Derbyshire.
It was the housekeeper Mrs. Stradford who found the two girls of the house watching their dead mother, one crying her eyes out and the other staring numbly on the body lying on the bed.
She called a maid, telling her frantically to call the doctor and tried to make the girls move to their rooms which turned out to be a fruitless endower.
Kitty couldn't be moved off her mother and Mary couldn't move at all.
No coaxing could reach them, no Please Misses or Be reasonable was enough. Cook with her strong arms needed to haul Miss Kitty away from her mother when the doctor arrived in order for him to do his work.
Mary didn't know what precisely changed her in the moment the doctor shook his head and said, "She is dead, God rest her soul.", but somehow something changed inside herself.
Unbidden, her gaze drifted to her sister whose shiny auburn hair was in disarray, falling out of her bun, sobbing and crying without restrain like a young babe.
She was still held by cook who seemed to be the only reason Kitty could hold herself on her legs.
Numbly, Mary addressed Mrs. Jenkins, "Cook, accompany my sister to her room and make sure she rests."
She took a deep breath and continued, "Mrs. Stradford, find me Mama's favourite yellow scarf to cover her…face." Mary couldn't prevent the slight break in her voice before she turned to the doctor, "Dr. Howard, would you be so kind to draft the death certificate? Also, it would be very appreciated if you could send a messenger to the Reverend to inform him of…Mama. We will of course pay for the messenger who has to come with the Reverend and he will have to deliver a missive to Pemberly in order to notify Papa of this…this…" What could she say? "…our loss."
For a moment nobody moved, everyone watching this lady of 20 years who took control of this situation with a straightforward determination that did nothing to hide her distress.
A rather plain, odd duck Mary Bennet may be but one couldn't deny that she had a shrewd head on her shoulders.
" Well, then, what are you waiting for? Cook ? Mrs. Stradford? "The two ladies immediately followed the orders of the now oldest lady in the house.
Taking a deep breath Mary turned to the doctor, "Doctor…I…shall I accompany you to the door? "
Mr. Howard nodded immediately but shook it an instant later and said, "No,no, Miss Bennet. That won't be necessary."
Nodding to her direction, he put on his hat and left the room.
Mary was left behind, staring at the corpse of her mother.
A dry sob escaped her lips but before any tears could escape she shut them tightly, took a deep, shaky breath and reminded herself that she needed to be strong.
She was the lady of the house now and she couldn't lose her composure right now.
It took the messenger, the Reverend with two young men and Dr. Howard almost a full hour to arrive.
Mary, who couldn't bear the sight of her mother's still form anymore, had fled to the library and wrote the important missive for her father.
When she met the gentlemen in the drawing-room, her fingertips were still stained from the royal blue ink although she had always been a tidy writer.
" Welcome, Reverend. I assume you know why I had you called?", asked the young woman brokenly.
"Yes, my child, I have heard and I am deeply sorry for your loss. Our community will miss our dear Mrs. Bennet but life has to go on. We cannot dwell on the past and must march into the future.", responded the holy man.
Mary held her tongue and didn't point out that the future could wait until her mother was resting in her grave six feet under.
Instead, she smiled coldly and with hollow eyes, she said: "Well, as much as I enjoy a great conversation, I believe it would be best for you, Reverend, to see my mother and take her to the church for her last rites. If you will follow me?"
Without waiting for his reply she turned away briskly and went up the stairs, followed by the men who were uncomfortably aware of the morose atmosphere in the house.
Mary watched absently how in a matter of minutes her mother was taken away by the two strong men who accompanied the Reverend, jostling her cold body before they could steady her.
She gave the messenger the missive for her father and promised to pay him five pounds for his service if he made haste.
The young girl smiled sardonically at the way the man practically flew out of the door.
She was lying on her bed, unable to fall asleep. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw the still body of her mother in front of her.
A soft knock against her door distracted her and before she could wonder who disturbed her at this hour, her sister spoke, "Mary, Mary are you awake?"
The older sister sighed and answered, "Yes, I am. You may enter if you wish to."
For a moment nothing happened and Mary imagined her sister biting her bottom lip in indecision before she opened the door slowly. She stood uncertainly close to the doorway, looking forlornly at her older sister.
Heaving an exaggerated sigh, Mary drew back the blanket that covered her; she padded the empty space next to her in invitation.
Kitty's lips twitched, wanting to form a smile but unable to, she threw herself on the bed. Her arms encircled her sister, holding her tightly.
"She's gone, isn't she?"
The desolate note in her sister's whisper broke her heart.
"Yes."
Kitty took a deep, shaky breath, "What is going to happen now? Mary what are we supposed to do?"
"I-I sent a messenger to papa. I think he's going to arrive in a few days. Then…well, we'll have to go through the funeral and try to cope with-with-…."
"That sounds reasonable.", interrupted Kitty her sister's answer before she had to speak out loud what they both didn't want to hear right now.
"Yes. Reasonable.", said Mary tonelessly.
"Can-Can I stay here? Just for tonight? Please…", asked Kitty in a soft, sad voice.
Mary embraced her even tighter after her question and answered, "Of course. Do you want me to tell you a fairytale-story too?"
Kitty smiled against her sister's bosom, remembering the times before Lydia was old enough to speak and Mary was the one with whom she always played. Back then she always went to Mary's room and begged her to read or tell her a story while she dozed on her shoulder.
She lost her smile quickly when she remembered that it used to be her mother who carried her back to her own room. Her mother who she found lying dead on her bed.
Tears filled her eyes and a loud sob escaped her mouth that she quickly silenced by pressing herself stronger against her sister.
Mary's warm hand smoothed down her hair and ran soothingly down her back.
" A long time ago, there used to be a very young, very foolish English lady. She dreamed of castles and riches and pretty dresses and jewels. But then one day she met an equally young and foolish gentleman who she fell in love with."
Mary paused briefly and Kitty begged her, "Please continue Mary. Just until I fall asleep, alright?"
Mary smiled at her needy sister who reminded her of the little three-year old who used to pester her immensely when she was five.
She kept on telling the story her mother used to tell her when she couldn't sleep for whatever reason until her sister's snores told Mary that Kitty had fallen asleep.
Her father didn't arrive. It had been already five days and Mary knew that she had to do something. The Reverend kept on visiting and hinting very strongly that it was time to act because couldn't rest in the church for eternity.
Personally, Mary believed that the man of God didn't quite understand the concept of mathematics for five days didn't equal eternity. She had already told him that she had sent two maids to wash and dress her and that he had already laid out her mother in the freezing air before the burial but the Reverend kept on insisting that the funeral couldn't wait any longer.
With a heavy heart Mary regarded the stack of paper, the quill and the ink pot that lay before her. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat and started writing on one of the papers that lay immaculately before her:
Dear Uncle Edward and Aunt Marianne,
I'm deeply sorry to inform you of Mama's, Mrs. Frances Bennet's, demise on the eve of the 19th of March.
The funeral will be held at the Hertford Church, led by the local Reverend on the 26th of March, from the morning to the evening.
Places on the Hertfordshire Lodge will be reserved for the guests of the funeral.
Sincerely,
Your niece, Miss Mary Bennet
Tears filled her eyes but she kept them ruthlessly on bay. She folded the letter, put it into an envelope and sealed it with wax, writing Invitation on it.
She couldn't believe this was happening. Since the first night Kitty came to her, she hadn't stopped crying and Mary kept on going to her sister's room to hold her, tell her everything would be alright again and occasionally tell her stories her mother used to tell her. Mary rubbed her temples to ease off the sudden pain and frustration that caught her off guard.
She wished she could stop thinking but since she was a little girl Mary's thoughts would never stop still for there was always something to things about which her brain exploited in the most merciless ways.
She should concentrate on her grief and on the funeral and on her little sister who COULDN'T. STOP. CRYING.
But she couldn't, she simply couldn't.
Her thoughts kept on revolving of what she was supposed to do if her father wouldn't arrive on time, of what she would do if he was unable to fulfill his responsibilities concerning their lands and how she was supposed to manage an estate for no one considered teaching her for there were no prospective husbands vying for her attention.
She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, reminding herself to stay in the present and not lose herself in the problems the future brought along.
She took another blank page of paper and continued to write the invitations, praying wit all her might that her father would finally arrive.
Her father had finally arrived and the first thing he did was yelling at her for presuming to plan her mother's funeral before he could even see her lifeless body.
Her heart was aching oh so fiercely and she couldn't form a single word to defend herself. She knew her father was deeply saddened and that he didn't mean anything he said but she couldn't deny the hurt that filled her heart so intensely that she gasped.
Her words were colder than she meant to when she replied, "The funeral is tomorrow. The guests are staying in the Hertfordshire Lodge and will start from the morning and finish in the evening. If you will excuse me now, father, I will have Cook what she will have to bake for the reception and I will thank Mrs. Stradford for airing and cleaning out mama's room and I will then go to Dr. Howard to find out whether the death certificate is finally drafted and finally visit the Reverend to tell him of the final changes for it was me who had to worry about all these worries because you father were with Elizabeth in Pemberly."
She turned around quickly to prevent him to see the tears that gathered in her eyes which she kept back ruthlessly, reminding herself that she couldn't show any weakness, which is the reason she didn't see the pain and remorse shine in her father's eyes as he watched his middle daughter walk away briskly with the same sorrow and determination his beloved Fanny used to display whenever his own mother had visited and remarked bluntly that his wife hadn't born him an heir yet.
A foul curse, one he hadn't spoken in decades left his mouth and he went to his library, the safe haven he had erected. He filled a glass to the brim with Brandy and swallowed it down like water. He heard the front door shut indicating that Mary had departed. His gaze fell on the ink stains that graced his desk and he imagined his plain daughter penning countless letters to family members and friends to tell them of Mrs. Bennet's death.
He heard sobbing and harsh breathing fill the room and wondered where it came from before realizing an instant later that it was him who was crying like a little babe.
Angry at his impotence in this situation he threw away the now empty glass, making it shatter in a thousand pieces against the wall before h lay his head into his hands and started to cry in earnest.
What the damning hell was he supposed without his Fanny?
Mary tries to breath. She tries to breathbreathbreath but it's getting harder and harder. Her mother is lying in a wooden coffin and around her there are so many tearstearstears and the only one who doesn't shed them are the unfeeling, uninterested and uncomfortable people like Caroline Bingley who had never cared much for the loud, obnoxious Mrs. Bennet.
Everyone who cared about Fanny Bennet is crying.
Except for her third-born daughter.
There are no tears for the woman who has given her life, who had loved her despite her many misgivings and who was caring about what'll happen to her should she not find a good husband.
She wonders why they will not come, those salty waters that had threatened to spill for days whenever this dreaded funeral was coming closer and closer but refuse to fall now.
She felt like suffocating, like drowning in a sea of foreign tears that wanted to carry her away but was unable to move her stone-cold body.
She took another shaky breath in order to reign the maelstrom of emotions that wreaked havoc inside her body, reminding herself that falling apart was not an option. Her family needed her to be strong right now; Kitty who was close to collapsing and Lydia who was about to destroy the interior of the church needed her to be level-headed.
On the day, Mrs. Bennet was put to rest the sun was shining once again. Mary couldn't help but smile bitterly at the irony of the weather that was in sharp contrast to the negative emotions she felt.
After it was all over, hours had passed and the sun made place for the moon. Mary was sitting in the library, a candle illuminating the darkness. Everyone was resting in their rooms; the house having only enough space for the closest family although even then the married couples had to sleep together in rooms though it was highly inappropriate to rest in one bedroom with one's spouse.
She was unable to sleep and looked at the reports the farmers who attended their fields sent. She was horrified at the decline of crops and healthy, strong animals they possessed. She wondered if her father had any idea of this. A moment later, Mary remembered that her father had never particularly cared for economics for he had always enjoyed literature more.
As the second son of a relatively wealthy country gentleman he had never learned how he was supposed to treat the people who worked for him or how to animate them to do better without sounding condescending. It had been his older brother who had died on fever before he married that learned the tools of the trade so to say.
Mary was despairing for the funeral had been a very expensive affair and the Bennets were not as wealthy as they used thanks to her father's maladministration.
Mary felt another headache approach when the opening of the door distracted her from her troubled thoughts.
"Mr. Darcy! What're you doing here?", asked Mary frankly.
"The better question would be 'What are you doing here, Miss Bennet?', wouldn't it?", the gentleman raised a perfectly shaped brow which underlined his haughty demeanor.
"I'm taking care of certain affaires. Bennet affaires. For after all I am the oldest Bennet daughter, aren't I?", Mary raised her own brows to imitate Darcy's expression though she didn't succeeded. Haughtiness was not an emotion she could portray well for she had never been vain in any way and could not understand how to act superior compared to another.
"May I help you then, Miss Bennet. I'm quite able to aid in financial affairs as you're well aware I assume?"
Instantly, Mary regarded her brother-in-law coldly and replied in an icy tone, "I am well aware of your financial comfortableness, sir, but my family does not need charity from such an 'esteemed' man as you. We have survived when we were five daughters in this house without resorting to cannibalism and we will survive without the aid of my sister's husband's aid until we are old and grey and shriveled. And now, I wish for you to leave, sir, for I have quite some work ahead of me and my father is unable to deal with these trivial matters at the moment."
Darcy regarded her from equally cold eyes, affronted at her presumptuous speech, " And you are able to deal with these-how did you say-trivial matters, Miss? One might assume you hadn't lost your own mother today."
Mary couldn't believe what he had just said. This man who for all intends and purposes was NOT a member of her family, her REAL family, dared to question her feelings for her mother although he called Mrs. Bennet an embarrassing, husband-hunting mama?
"Pray be careful with your words, sir, for this is my house NOT yours. I have lost my mother, yes, but I also know that life does not stop because of this. Someone has to worry about the lives of my younger sisters for my elder sisters have built their own and have their own problems to deal with. My father is not able to concern himself with anything at the moment for contrary to popular belief he had always loved my mother no matter how 'unfitting' or 'silly' she was. I am the only one who can deal with this, who HAS to deal with this affairs because there is no one else and if it may seem like I am unfeeling and unaffected then it is how it is. I have more important concerns than the opinion of your like, sir!", spoke she angrily and waited for his reply.
Surprised, she saw his eyes soften and his eyes reflect not pity but empathy for her.
"When I was just a young man my father died, leaving me and my younger sister.", said Darcy, "I was the one who had to arrange the funeral and care for his work after his passing, just like you, Miss Bennet."
Mary held her tongue, listening intently to his confession, wondering why he was telling her of this.
"Miss Bennet, I know what you're going through and I sincerely want to help you and your family. Your sister is my wife and her family is my family. Do you understand?", he asked imploringly.
"Mister Darcy, I-I appreciate your-your sympathy but I have to insist that I need to deal with my family's problems on my own.", answered she haltingly.
Fitzwilliam smiled nostalgically, "Yes. I didn't wish for help either. Just know, Miss Bennet, that should you need any help or advice or of whatever you are in need of I will gladly help you."
He turned around, wanting to leave behind the young woman who reminded him of himself when he heard her call him, "! You may call me Mary."
He looked at her quizzically and she blushed lightly under his stare, "After all, we're brother and sister, are we not?"
Darcy smiled and replied, "Yes, yes we are. And you may call me Fotzwilliam, Mary."
Mary cleared her throat to break the emotional atmosphere, "Well, I will see you tomorrow then, Mr. Dar- I mean Fitzwilliam."
"Till 'morrow then, Mary."
He left then to go back to Elizabth's old room in which he, Lizzy, Charles and Jane were staying for the house was not big enough for them to have a room for every married couple, though it was highly improper to stay with one's wife in one room.
Mary stared after her brother-in-law and wondered what just happened.
Fitzwilliam Darcy was to say in her father's words an honest to God strange fellow.
The Bingley's, Darcy's and Wickham's carriages left almost to the same time. Jane and Elizabeth left after two days, not wanting to stay away from their young children any longer, leaving them in the care of maids while Lydia stayed for five days, rowing violently with George in whichever room her husband confronted her with his wish to leave.
It took Mary telling them off about not being able to stand another argument for them to keep their silence until they left the next day, Wickham sporting another bruise around his eye although the previous one had been healing quite nicely. When asked, he wouldn't give an answer but glare heatedly at his wife who glared but just as equally fiercely back.
The days passed quickly, Kitty was coming back to her old spirits though there were still times when she would be unusually quiet and absentminded and Mary corresponded with Fitzwilliam on a regular basis, telling him about investments he could make for her in projects she believed would be most profitable and asking him among many other economic topics how the family was faring.
The both of them turned from tentative siblings into friends, Mary realizing that he was not as arrogant as he portrayed himself to be and Fitzwilliam understanding that behind Mary's plain face and self-righteous words stood a very intelligent woman whose mind could grasp complicated mathematics and structures in a matter of moments.
Amidst the many responsibilities Mary found herself in, she also worried about her father who spent on more times in the library than anywhere else. He was also sleeping there more often than not and although he sat at the head of the table at supper or breakfast, she could practically feel the loneliness surrounding him.
At times, she had wondered whether he would leave them too and one evening when Kitty was visiting the Lucas family and they were at the library-she working, he reading-he had apologized for his behavior before the funeral and she couldn't hold herself back anymore.
Asking him in her usual bluntness whether he planned on dying too made him smile with sadsad eyes, "No, my child. I will not leave you or your sister although I miss my Fanny terribly. Until you two have married good husbands who will make you happy your papa will stay here and make sure that you have a home."
She clasped his hand tightly to chase away his dark thoughts which he responded with padding her hand and saying, "Na,na,na, Mary. You know I miss your mother something fierce but I am not ready for heaven until my two darlings are just as happy as their sisters. And now continue with your work. God knows I have no head for these matters. I wish I had known you would be so able with this, my child, oh the time I would have had for my books and the money I would have had t enlarge my collection."
Mary giggled at her father's teasing and resumed her work. She had never mentioned his death wish again and she kept it from all her other sister's too.
As far as she was concerned, Mary would never marry. Not only because she was not wanted by men often but because she had responsibilities that she couldn't shrink.
No, Mary Bennet would not marry, not if she could help it.
And with this resolution in mind she kept on going through her new life.
The End.
The Prologue to my awesome Mary Bennet Story! WHOOOOOO-HUUUUUUU!
I can't believe how happy I am with this chapter. On my Profile you can see that this is the first story in my Series which will be followed by Kitty's then Lydia's story and then Fanny's and Henry's story
P.S. The fairytale Mary told Kitty? The one her mother used to tell her? Guess who those young foolish man and woman were ;)
I hope you enjoyed the story and leave me a REVIEW.
Thanks a bunch to everyone who had waited so patiently for this story.
And BUH-BYE !