So, this is the third installment in my (I guess) "Extended" saga. This was previously attached to the original third part, but the whole thing is far too long, so I decided to split it in two.
The fourth installment isn't ready yet and it will be in writing for a while, although at least half is done already.
This one is quite different from the other two (for one, it takes place outdoors) and I'm curious to see your reactions.
Speaking of which, I want to thank all the reviewers of Extended Conflict for being so marvellous and encouraging. It really put a huge, dorky smile on my face.
Shel12: awww, thank you for comparing me to the brilliant Jane Austen, I could never mirror her incredible writing, but I'm very, very flattered. So glad you find Mary and Denny compatible, despite being so mismatched. It's what drew me to them, in the first place.
joniskpelare: oh, sorry there for the mistake, I didn't realize I'd written that, thank you for correcting me :) will keep in mind from now on:)
LotsOfLaundry: Thank you so much for going back and reading the first again, so glad you enjoyed them both :) "Wonderfully stubborn and a tad spiteful" is the perfect description of these two, but there is a bit of road left till matrimony, although they'd be arguing then too naturally :))
/GeekGoddess/: thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you enjoyed the stories so far, I'll probably write two or three more, to give them a proper ending:)
can't think: yes, another sequel so rejoice :)) I'm glad you enjoyed their fighting, because I too think they work in some twisted way :) this chapter is a bit more tame, arguing-wise, but there's plenty of banter :)
Bibicu: I will, eventually :))
Guest: Well, it's not multi-chaptered, but it's a sort of saga of separate, related stories :)) so I hope that's not too inconvenient. Anyway there's more for you to read:)
Luckylily: As requested, the follow-up :) Though a more serious fighting match will come in the next installment, stay tuned :)
Farie Insignias: Oh, wow, thank you so much! I'm flattered I've started an obsession :)) So glad you love them as much as I do! There will be arguments and banter ahead, so not to worry. The fourth part will be a lot more heated, this one's rather tame, but it's got one of my favourite moments between them, so I hope you enjoy it and thanks again for the lovely review (oh and keeping the balance between propriety and impropriety between them is the hardest, so I'm happy I've succeeded:)).
Well, that being said, please read and enjoy!
(also, don't forget to leave a review to let me know)
.
The Ball at Lucas Lodge had come and gone and it was now their general, unspoken understanding that they had, more or less, become friends.
At least, it was Capt Denny's belief that their amicable walk from Church that following Sunday had cemented this idea.
He and Mr. Wickham had joined the Bennets on their way back to Longbourn and Mrs. Bennet had been very glad for the company, because Mr. Bennet was being rather churlish and Lydia and Kitty were uncontrollably cheerful.
Elizabeth Bennet instantly smiled at Mr. Wickham's arrival and she and Lydia quickly rounded upon him with lively conversation. Kitty was left to entertain Capt Denny and she felt very proud to have a more sober preference than her sisters and to be part of the smaller, more intimate group.
Jane and Mary walked ahead, behind Mr. and Mrs. Bennet and they kept very quiet, secretly eavesdropping on the discussions taking place between the gentlemen and their sisters. They both felt, although neither knew the other one shared the sentiment, that, being more demure and less sociable, they were meant to pay attention and take care that the young men should not step out of bounds with their sisters. Jane was more worried for Lydia, while Mary was worried for all of them. It was her duty, she believed, to look after her elder sisters as well.
On this very morning, however, she felt a bit more inclined to worry about Kitty. No, it was not worry exactly. More like an unpleasant foreboding, or a peculiar vexation. She could not ascertain the cause, but she was sure Kitty should be less fond of Capt Denny. He was the same man, after all, who had jilted Miss Howard, although it cannot be said the lady had been entirely innocent. Now, word was about (or at least Lydia had told them) that Miss King had taken to him rather strongly after the Lucas Ball. They had danced together once as part of a group with Mr. Wickham and Elizabeth, and they had spoken briefly afterwards, but it had been very inconsequential. Miss King, however, had been left with a lasting impression. That or she was beginning to feel neglected by Mr. Wickham in favour of Miss Bennet. In any case, Miss King was another very good match, with a pretty fortune to boot. Capt Denny had the peculiar luck of attracting only the well-to-do.
On his part, Capt Denny did not yet know the rumour, nor did he think Miss King excessively handsome, certainly not as handsome as everybody proclaimed she was, and he was quite sure that his friend, Wickham, intended to woo her more seriously. When that would be he knew not. Mr. Wickham was still steadfastly attached to Miss Elizabeth.
At the moment, though, he was not thinking of anything. He was nodding and agreeing absently to Kitty Bennet's questioning; should she buy a new bonnet, after all? Did he think she would look good in a poke bonnet? Was Barlow's shop really closing? Would it be safe to wear silk instead of woollen stockings at Aunt Phillips' next Thursday? What was his favourite colour of stockings and had he seen any (this question was asked very boldly, followed by a sly wink)? Was he coming to Aunt Phillips' next Thursday? Was he bringing Mr. Wickham?
"Not that I care much for his presence, but my other sisters adore him, really," she said, feigning as much nonchalance as was humanly possible.
"Do they? Why, yes, I might bring the fellow," he remarked, looking at the winding road in front of them.
He held her warm arm to his chest and she could feel his heart beating slack against his ribcage. Worrying that she was not evincing a more passionate response from him, she leant her head quickly on his shoulder and giggled, withdrawing it before anyone else could see.
She was pleased to see there was a rise in it now. A shy, but steady rise as his heart began to beat more vigorously.
In fact, in no time, it was racing quite faster than its normal rhythm and as Kitty followed his gaze, she gave a small amused shriek.
A powerful gust of wind, the kind that had been prowling the meadows for the whole month of November, leaving very few warm and unshaken, had been ushered in quite unexpectedly by a round hill to their left and had vindictively taken off with Mary's bonnet and Jane's handkerchief.
As a result, Jane had been left empty-handed and Mary, unsheltered from the cold.
Her long, black hair had fallen in waves across her back, flying wildly about her face, unruly and untoward.
In an attempt to keep her ears and nape warmer, she had let her hair down underneath her bonnet, because she was always prone to chills when she sat in one place for too long and the consequence was that now she was providing a very puzzling image for those around her.
Capt Denny, in particular, was arrested by the display, which stirred the heart Kitty had been meaning to inspire.
To see a young lady's hair in all its glory was something rather rare and intimate and even though her black strands were not soft or lush, but rather lackadaisical and thin, they gave so much expression and altered her face so, that for one moment he thought she might be pretty, if not very much so.
When she looked over her shoulder and their eyes met, she was in the middle of pulling the hair out of her face and he was left with a strange but mesmerising image of her fingers tracing across her cheek, almost scratching the skin, leaving red marks behind, as the stubborn black strands licked her lips playfully, refusing to be tamed. All the blood had gathered in those marks, the marks of her fingers on the perfect, exquisite roundness of a pale cheek. Her features were not handsome, but taken separately, they were a geometrical wonder.
Her eyebrows shot up in anger and there was the familiar wrinkle above her nose again, the one that made her look like a venerable Lady Macbeth.
The spell was broken, however, by Mrs. Bennet exclaiming fretfully,
"Oh dear Mr. Bennet! The bonnet and the handkerchief! What is to be done?"
Mr. Wickham had already rushed for the items, when Capt Denny finally woke from his trance and hurried after him.
The handkerchief was promptly caught by Mr. Wickham and he stood proudly next to a stooping poplar, holding it above his head as a prize, while Lydia and Kitty clapped happily.
The bonnet had flown a while further, however, and Capt Denny ran to prevent the wind from taking it into the woods.
Mary, who did not look kindly on Mr. Wickham's gesture and disapproved of the applause, bent down to take the hems of her dress in her hand and, pretending to walk a little further, went after the bonnet herself.
She found it stupid to wait by the side of the road while someone else brought her headwear. Was she expected to clap at his triumph like a silly goose? What utter nonsense! She had more pride than that.
Mrs. Bennet bellowed after her. "Mary, you daft creature! Capt Denny will retrieve it for you! Mr. Bennet! Do go and help Capt Denny!"
Mr. Bennet, however, muttered that he would do no such thing.
Capt Denny had gone a long way to fetch her bonnet and he was almost out of sight.
Fortunately, it had been caught in the branches of a tall, heavy oak tree and would remain there until safely brought down.
Mary was watching him from a small distance, panting at the exercise she had undertaken, for she had almost run to reach him. She was mentally berating herself for exerting herself so much and appearing so ridiculous in front of everyone. Then again it would have been just as ridiculous to stand with her family.
There were such moments in her otherwise quiet life when she surprised herself with a bold initiative, stemming from a very fastidious personality which never allowed any form of compromise.
Lizzie and Jane were a few feet away, having followed her in concern, but when they saw that Capt Denny waved his hands towards the oak tree, they stopped and smiled, knowing that the bonnet was safe now.
Mary found her way to him rather slowly, because of an inconvenient hedge of bramble she had to cross, but once at the foot of the tree, she looked up at the bonnet, perched high in the yellow canopy, and realized in dismay that it was far too high for him to fetch.
"The problem is, Miss Bennet," he began, out of breath, as if they had been talking all this time, "that your bonnet has climbed right to the top. And I believe a ladder is needed to retrieve it."
He came from behind the tree, his face gleaming with sweat and a brilliant smile etched across his face.
"Oh, well, then I suppose it's pointless..." she said wanly, trying to pull her heavy cloak over her hair.
"Oh, no, don't – don't do that," he hastened to stop her, almost without thinking.
Her fingers froze on the hood of her cloak.
Her wild black hair was even more lively from the exercise.
"Don't do what?" she asked rather daftly.
"Don't cover it so soon," he spoke quickly, looking up at the tree, avoiding her gaze.
"Why ever not?" she asked sternly.
His smile was gone now, even though his lip was curled up still.
"Oh, well, you should, of course. You mustn't catch a cold."
But it was in vain to cover her head, because whenever she looked up at the branches her hood would glide back swiftly.
They stood for a moment, observing each other, but looking sideways.
"I could try to climb up, if you wish. I have done it before many times. Only this one is quite tall," he said, trying to break the dreary silence.
"No, you are too well-dressed and you ought not to dirty your boots," she replied, as if talking to a school-boy.
"And – and you might injure yourself," she added in a quiet voice.
"Nonsense. There isn't much to it," he said dismissively, although he was rather pleased to have her witness his feat of courage.
"Well, don't do it yet. Shake the branches first. It might fall off," she suggested, standing further away.
He complied, lifting up a fallen long stick of wood and reached up to disturb the foliage.
It was a thick foliage which was very peculiar, especially for the beginning of winter.
"Careful! You're only taking down the leaves, but no bonnet!"
"Oh – would – you – like – to – try – then?" he asked, between pants as he swung back and forth.
"Well, I wouldn't want to cast a shadow on your moment of glory."
He smiled and swung more vigorously, beating against the trunk and lower branches.
"That won't do the trick! You can't just beat it savagely and hope it will deliver what you want!"
"Don't - tell - me - you - pity - the - tree."
"As a matter of fact, I do! He's done nothing wrong!"
"He? It's - it's a he - then?"
"Mary! Mary! Capt Denny! Where are you? Come back, already, will you!" Kitty was shouting from afar.
They could barely see the Bennets standing by the side of the road, waiting impatiently, but they could guess the mutual expression on their faces.
Capt Denny chuckled, pausing briefly.
"What are you laughing at?" Mary asked, schooling her features into a frown.
"Well, imagine if some of your neighbours should pass by. We make a funny sight, don't we, me beating a tree with a stick and you, standing hopelessly at my side, bonnet-less?"
He was expecting a severe rebuttal from Mary, but to his surprise, she tilted her head to the side and merely said,
"It would be just as well. My neighbours have no other useful occupation, either way."
"Do you reckon they've seen us then?"
"If they have, they must have run off immediately. They dread any form of lunacy."
"Lunacy?" he asked, smirking. "Do we appear to be mad?"
Mary smiled a small smile and said nothing.
"Well, I'd rather appear mad than boring, wouldn't you?" he asked, returning to his task.
"Oh, madness can be boring. Have you never read any gothic novels?" she asked, surveying him critically.
"Afraid not. The Mysteries of Alfonso isn't my cup of tea. Not very exciting stuff."
"It's Udolpho," she corrected him, amused. "And that was my point, actually. That none of it is really exciting. You are always aware of the artifice."
"What artifice?" he asked, stopping.
"Well, you always know the persecuted heroine will eventually marry a frightful sop and defeat whatever unholy evil lurks around the castle. Most of the times it's just the disgruntled uncle, setting pitiful traps around the attic."
Capt Denny laughed. "That is the rough draft, I should think."
He always enjoyed listening to her talk about books and novels, because she never failed to deliver some shocking judgement or make some bold remark that challenged anyone to argue otherwise. He enjoyed listening to her read just as much, since she always made personal comments about every single detail.
He swung back and forth a few more times, before he paused to wipe the sweat off his brow.
"How much time has passed, do you think?" he asked, checking his pocket watch.
"I don't know, but I believe it's been enough to have us talked about."
"Yet again," Capt Denny added conspiratorially, but Mary ignored his remark.
Eventually, they gave up on the entire ordeal, with Mary assuring him that he did not need to climb up and fetch the bonnet anymore.
Although he insisted that he could manage it, she said it was "an old thing anyway" and her mother had been pressing her to buy a new one for a while.
"It will fall down eventually," he surmised, looking at it one more time as it hung like a giant bird between the sharp branches.
"And some fortunate man or woman will take it and make good use of it, I hope," Mary concluded, satisfied.
"Always thinking of others, Miss Bennet, I see," he quipped, arranging his coat over his shoulders.
"I wouldn't wish something as useful as a bonnet to go to waste. It is only natural," she replied, feigning modesty.
"Shall we go, then, back to your family?"
The question was asked with a bit more reluctance than usual and Mary was not deaf to the sudden change of tone.
"Yes – well, I'm afraid they're growing very impatient and cold and it is rude to tardy," she replied, her voice neither high nor low.
He offered his arm and she took it rather stiffly, but as soon as they started walking, her grip softened, until she was leaning on him comfortably.
In all the confusion and distraction, she had forgotten entirely about her uncovered head. The exercise had warmed her up and she was not feeling the bonnet's absence anymore, so Capt Denny could sneak a glance at her dishevelled hair from time to time without her noticing.
"I've bought it, you know, Tristram Shandy. All the volumes. I wanted to finish it for myself. I was intrigued by that Uncle Toby fellow."
"Oh, indeed? I thought the protagonist would be more to your taste. He would certainly beat a tree with a stick."
Capt Denny laughed. "Well, you suggested it, actually!"
"I know language isn't your strong suit, Capt Denny, but you will observe I told you to shake it, not beat it to a pulp."
"Oh, is that what you said? I suppose hearing isn't my "strong suit" either."
"No, I suppose not," she commented shrewdly.
"I'm glad, though, that you bought the book," she added after a while. "I am sorry I could not finish it at the Ball."
"It's quite all right. You are a very fast reader. I cannot keep up sometimes," he confessed.
"Oh, why didn't you tell me? You should have warned me, I would have slackened my pace!" Mary reproached him.
"I wouldn't want you to think I'm that slow. It's only that you tend to run off on your own, at times, and I can't catch you," he replied charmingly. He felt foolish, of course, because he was attempting to flirt with Mary Bennet, but then again, he liked testing her patience.
Mary sniffed and tightened the grip on his arm. "I do not run off."
All evidence was to the contrary, however, as she had literally run to him not minutes ago.
"Oh, then it was only my fleeting impression," he quipped, raising an eyebrow and she promptly nudged him in the ribs painfully.
He didn't have time to retaliate because the Bennets were already in clear view and he felt another pang in his chest at their being so close.
The family was waiting ill-humouredly for the two to join them at last.
"Mary! Mary! Oh, finally! Good God, child! You had us all in such an uproar!" Mrs. Bennet wailed despondently, although there was no sign of an actual uproar.
"I apologize, mamma, I should not have –" she began conciliatorily, but she realized she was about to say "run off" and she stopped, glaring at Capt Denny as if he was to blame.
"I'm afraid the bonnet is lost, Mrs. Bennet. We could not retrieve it, but I'm glad to say it has found its home in a very tall oak tree," Capt Denny joked, trying to appease her, but Mrs. Bennet wouldn't have it.
"Oh, it's stuck there, is it? Oh, no, but that's terrible, indeed! It was a very wholesome bonnet! And you say it's lost for good?"
"Mamma, calm yourself, please. You were the one who told Mary and me we should get new bonnets, remember?" Lizzie intervened, smiling at her sister and Capt Denny as if they had been caught in an amorous stance. "I think it's time we did so."
"Oh, wonderful! Now we will be able to go into town!" Lydia exclaimed happily. "Mamma! I require a new bonnet too, if Mary is allowed one!"
"No, Lydia, you've already taken my bonnet and you have yet to give it back!" Kitty complained loudly.
"Girls, girls! Quiet down! Oh, my poor nerves! You will have to excuse me, Capt Denny, Mr. Wickham. Our family is a raucous lot."
"Oh, none more so than you, my dear," Mr. Bennet suddenly spoke, surveying them all ironically. "I would suggest you settle down, before the whole county hears of our distress. Now, we should hurry along, I fear we are already late for breakfast. Mary, will you be so kind as to join your sisters?"
Mary blushed profusely. Whenever her father addressed her, rarely as it occurred, she felt it was great and fearsome occasion.
She quickly discarded Capt Denny's arm and rushed towards Jane, scowling in his direction again as if it had all been his fault.
"Oh, I never knew she was so spirited!" Mr. Wickham commented in Elizabeth's ear.
"Make sure you never tell her that, she would take it as a slight," Lizzie replied, looking fondly at her sister.
"Good! Now that we are all in formation, perhaps we will advance more than a few steps without losing another garment," Mr. Bennet declared, irritation seeping into his voice.
They were all quiet for a while, walking along, gazing at the fields of stubble and contemplating the warm tea at home.
Mary had pulled the heavy cloak over her head and now Capt Denny's heart was once again beating slack against his ribcage. Kitty was holding onto his arm, like before, but she no longer paid attention to his heart.
"So will you come to my Aunt Phillips' on Thursday, Capt? You said you'd bring Mr. Wickham, but not if you were staying yourself."
"Why, you are quite a sly thing to notice that, Miss Bennet."
"Well, I wouldn't want to put on my best dress for nothing," she replied cheekily.
"Then I must, for I cannot deprive you of that pleasure," he replied, staring at the dreary grey cloak in front of him. Then he looked at Kitty and smiled his brilliant smile. "Will you be there, then?"
"Oh, certainly!" she replied, missing the sarcasm in his voice. "I would never miss a visit to my Aunt's!"
"I'm glad."
"You've been there before, haven't you? Oh, yes you have! Remember? When you introduced us to Mr. Wickham? Remember Mr. Collins?"
"Oh yes, how could I forget?"
"So you will come?" Kitty insisted, twisting his lapel with her fingers.
"I don't see why not," he replied absent-mindedly.
One black strand had escaped its enclosure and was floating idly across Mary's shoulder, seizing his attention.
