A/N - Thank you so much for all the reads and reviews on chapter 1! I am so thrilled to see some other Mary fans ;) Hope this little story does not disappoint x
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam gratefully accepted the tea that was offered to him, for he felt as if he had been walking for hours in the Hertfordshire countryside, and spent weeks on his feet before that with his regiment. The comforts of home were a distant memory to him, and he thought Longbourn a very comfortable home indeed.
"If it is Mr Darcy you seek then you've not got far to go," Mr Bennet said, his words muffled by the large mouthful of fruitcake he was working on. "It's three or four miles in that direction." He waved his hand towards the window. "But you might as well stay here and rest a quarter hour before moving on. You're cousins, did you say?"
"That's right," Colonel Fitzwilliam clarified. He glanced towards the piano, which the young Miss Bennet - Mary, he thought her name was - had hurried away from the instant he was invite to stay by her father. Instead she sat primly on a chair opposite them, watching their conversation intently, but offering nothing by way of contribution. Richard felt a flash of guilt for disturbing her and stumbling upon them so suddenly. He could only imagine the flash of fear she must have felt to look up and see him - a stranger - standing before her in that very room, without warning or escort. It had not been his intention to blunder into a stranger's house and frighten his daughter, of course. In fact, Richard had not intended on entering at all, but his query of whether the gentleman of the house were at home was taken for a request to see him, and the housekeeper had obediently hurried him into the parlour, and now they were happily taking tea as if they were old friends and not new acquaintances.
"You do not look a bit alike!" Mr Bennet remarked, taking a loud gulp of his tea. "Still I suppose that might be taken as a compliment to one of you."
Richard smiled, vaguely, but was not sure whether Mr Bennet intended his comment for a joke or an insult.
"You'll be well acquainted with Mr Bingley as well, then?" Mr Bennet prompted. "He seems a fine enough fellow, and being head of a house full of young ladies I certainly hear more than I need to about the man." His eyes twinkled. "You must count yourself fortunate, Colonel, not to call at Longbourn while my wife is at home, I do not doubt she would endeavour to trap you here until you pledged to marry at least one of our daughters." He chuckled. "Is that not so, Mary?"
Mary said nothing, but when Richard glanced up at her, he saw her eyes flash with anger or embarrassment, he was not sure which.
"I have only met Mr Bingley once, some years ago," Richard said, eager to return Mr Bennet to an altogether safer topic of conversation and spare his daughter whatever anxiety this last comment had provoked. "And his sister, not at all, although I am of course obliged to them for their hospitality."
"Do you intend on staying long in Hertfordshire, Colonel Fitzwilliam?"
It took Richard a moment to realise that he had not imagined the question but that Mary Bennet herself had asked it. When he glanced at her, her gaze was fixed once more on the tea-tray, so that she might have appeared to have made the enquiry of the room at large, were it not for her use of his name.
"Not long, no. I am on my way to Kent." He grimaced, almost without meaning to. Kent meant Rosings, which meant Aunt Catherine. He called to visit Darcy first as a precursor to that, and for the chance to seek the advice of his cousin on how best to manage their shared aunt. It was Aunt Catherine's request that had him travel at all, for he had been half of a mind to go North, until her summons had arrived. She wished to ascertain for herself that he was not too badly off after the war. There had been some rumour of his taking ill, or suffering an injury, and whilst it would be indelicate to enquire of the nature of his illness, she wished to see her "dear nephew" for herself and be assured of his wellbeing. Richard had smirked. He was not sure he was ever her "dear" nephew when Darcy was also in consideration. Her "other" nephew, perhaps. War had apparently raised him in her estimation, but he was not one to jettison family responsibilities, and was obliged to call on her. Kent would make a pleasant change of pace, and, fortified after a brief stint in Hertfordshire, Richard thought he would manage the winter very well.
"Ah, then it is indeed a pity our house is so quiet, for we have another guest staying here who hails from Kent!" Mr Bennet returned his teacup to its saucer with a musical clink. "My cousin, Mr Collins is a curate there."
"I believe," Marys' voice came, quietly, from her corner once more. "I believe his patroness is aunt to Mr Darcy, a Lady Catherine de Bourgh."
This prompted even Mr Bennet to look shrewdly at his daughter.
"You listen to his tales with more patience than I do, Mary!" To Richard: "Are you acquainted with this Lady Catherine de Bourgh?"
"A little," Richard admitted with a smile. "She is my aunt also."
"Then you had better be on your way sooner rather than later," Mr Bennet remarked. "For Mr Collins shall never wish to release you once he learns of your relationship. He has already attempted to align himself quite closely with Mr Darcy, with, ah, limited success."
"Indeed!" Richard could not help but laughing at the image this short description conjured up. He could well imagine Darcy trying to evade a growing friendship with any man so linked with Lady Catherine, and the notion that that man appeared eager for friendship would only serve to push Darcy further into retreat. "How fortunate that I should come at such a time!" Richard remarked. "And how providential that I should make your acquaintance first!"
