A/N - It's been a while since I posted here but I'm working on a few new projects and thought it'd be fun (read: keep me on track!) to share this one here. This is a novella all about Mary, but ODC play a key part in proceedings and find themselves utterly entangled in the process.

I hope you will enjoy reading along and please do let me know what you think. I'm shooting to upload a chapter a day (hopefully!) but at the very least will be updating regularly and often al being well.

Ok...allons-y!

Mary Bennet slid into her familiar and favourite seat, in front of the pianoforte she thought of as hers and ran her fingers lightly over the keys. The usual chaos that echoed throughout Longbourn was quieted due, in part, to the absence of Lydia and Kitty, who had insisted on walking to Meryton to pay a visit to the regiment, undaunted by the promise of rain and determined only in succeeding in their mission. They had even invited her, Mary, to accompany them, which invitation she had primly refused. Their flirtations were shocking to quiet, shy Mary, and yet neither of her young sisters seemed in the slightest bit embarrassed to be observed acting so free and friendly with the laughing young men that made up the Meryton regiment.

Mary began to pick out a tune that she had heard at the recent assembly, wishing she had been brave enough to enquire of the musicians the name of the piece. She had intended to, hovering as close as she dared so that she might catch a glimpse of their sheet music, or draw someone into some conversation, perhaps be invited to play something herself. Her eyes fluttered closed as she indulged in the happy daydream for half a moment. She would play, and everyone would admire her talent, praise her for her skill, and at last she would be the Bennet daughter that everyone acknowledged. She hit a wrong note, and in frustration pounded out a dischordant end to the piece. It had not happened, of course. It never did. She might as well be invisible, for all the notice anyone paid her. Even her sisters scarcely acknowledged her presence. Jane was too busy with this new Mr Bingley to pay any mind to her own family, and Mary was only too glad to stay out of Elizabeth's notice. She frowned. Her sister had a sharp tongue and was eager to use it on her, whenever Mary said a word that did not meet with her approval.

Slowly, her frown gave way to a smile. Today, all her sisters were out, or busy. The house was quiet, and she was free to play as much as she chose without fear of censure. Hovering over another chord, she leaned into it, her confidence growing as she played, and her fingers flying over the familiar notes as she traced out an old favourite of hers, a piece she could play in her sleep. There! she thought, hitting the last notes with a flourish. That has cleared some cobwebs away. She played another piece, and then another, gaining confidence in her playing and finding enjoyment at being allowed to do as she wished without offending her family's ears.

Minutes passed without Mary's notice, for if she heard the large clock on the mantel chime the hour, she did not pay it any heed, so lost was she in her music. She began to find herself humming along a melody to her own accompaniment, and then felt brave enough to sing the words to a particularly pretty song she had long favoured. She sang rarely around her family, although she loved to do it, because singing before company made her nervous, and her nerves in turn made her voice wander from true, and the whole effect was mortifying for one who truly adored music as much as she did. Here, unheard and unobserved, she might sing and play to her heart's content, and she did so, her voice soaring in pitch and volume. She halted only at the sound of an unfamiliar gentleman's cough, and she leapt back from the piano as if it had burnt her.

"Oh, please forgive me!" the offending gentleman said. "I did not mean to frighten you."

"Frighten me?" Mary yelped, breathing hard. "I - I -" She glanced around in desperation. Who was this stranger, and what was he doing in the parlour of Longbourn?

"Your housekeeper showed me through - she did introduce me, and I felt sure you had heard us, but -"

The gentleman was tall, and dressed elegantly enough, Mary presumed, although she knew little enough of fashion to make any real judgment. There was some familiarity to his face and she wondered fleetingly if they had met before. Then, fearful of being caught staring, she dropped her gaze.

"You have come to see my father, I suppose," she said. "He is in his study, I shall fetch him."

"No," the gentleman said, with a nervous laugh.

"One of my sisters, then? I am afraid you will be disappointed, for they are all out at present, but -"

"No, you misunderstand me, Miss - uh -" He hesitated, flushing a warm red as he struggled to recall the name she had not yet given him.

"Bennet," Mary said, quietly. "Mary Bennet."

"Miss Bennet." The gentleman smiled, warmly, at her, ducking his gaze slightly to meet hers. "I am Colonel Fitzwilliam. I am in search of a cousin of mine who is staying near here, and I'm afraid I lost my way. Your house was the first I came to, and I stopped in only to ask for directions. I must ask your forgiveness for disturbing you, and for upsetting you by my presence. I bid the housekeeper not to disturb anyone, but -"

"Mary?" Mr Bennet's thundering voice came down the corridor. "Jennings tells me there is a gentleman here to see me, but -"

Colonel Fitzwilliam straightened, and turned his attention to the doorway as Mr Bennet stomped through it.

"I am he, sir," he said, bowing slightly in greeting. "Please forgive me for disturbing your peace, and that of your daughter."

"Oh, never mind Mary!" Mr Bennet said, dismissing his apology with the wave of his hand. He squinted at their visitor. "How can I help you, Mr -"

"Colonel," Mary supplied, shrinking back once more ass both gentlemen's gazes swivelled towards her. "Colonel Fitzwilliam," she whispered.

"Colonel?" Mr Bennet blinked, turning back to their visitor with renewed interest. "Well, indeed. And what brings you to Longbourn, Colonel Fitzwilliam?"