A/N - Thank you so much for all the reads and comments so far, I hope you are enjoying the beginnings of this new story.

Apologies, too, for any typos that slip through - I've done an edit but apparently not been thorough enough as I keep finding new ones! Hopefully nothing too jarring for you as readers. Apologies.

Enjoy! xx

Mary ran her fingers gently over the surface of the Netherfield piano, picking out a meditative scale. Everything had changed so quickly and she wasn't sure she was entirely happy to be leaving the only home she had ever known to embark on something so entirely new.

Marriage. She still thrilled at the word, for she had spent most of her youth in full knowledge of the fact that she might never marry. Mrs Bennet, never blessed with tact, had remarked on Mary's plainness more than once, and that, combined with her quiet, shy nature had made marriage unlikely without considerable effort, which Mary had never been inclined to make. It was something of a shock to her, still, that Colonel Fitzwilliam had stumbled into her life one quiet day just a few weeks earlier and turned her world on its head. Now she, not Jane, would marry first. She, not Lydia, had secured a husband with a rank, and she who would be the first of all the sisters to leave Longbourn.

She ended the scale before reaching the octave, leaving the unfinished seventh hanging in the air.

"Here you are!" Elizabeth's voice startled her from the door way and Mary turned, surprised out of her reverie.

"Are you ready? It's almost time, and the carriage shall be here soon."

Mary took one last wistful glance towards the piano, unsure she could explain her feelings to her sister, even if she was brave enough to try. Even so, Lizzy seemed to understand her conflicted emotions without her saying a word.

"It's only a visit, Mary, dear! And we shall see everyone again soon when they come to Kent for the wedding. You are not having second thoughts?" An expression of anxiety darkened Elizabeth's features into a frown.

"No," Mary reassured her. "Not at all." It was true: with as much apprehension as she felt about leaving her home and embarking on this new chapter, she did not for a moment regret answering "yes" to Colonel Fitzwilliam's proposal. He was the bravest, kindest man she had ever met, and even if he had not cared for her first, had not won her heart by noticing her when nobody else did, Mary was quite sure she would have grown to love him for his goodness of character, his wit and god humour. No, she was not doubting her decision.

"Have you and Colonel Fitzwilliam spoken of where you might make a home?" Elizabeth asked, linking her arm through Mary's and tugging her gently towards the door.

Mary shook her head.

"He has family in the north, so we will go there after the wedding."

Here, her heart sank. There was to be an endless round of visiting family, it seemed to her. She was never at ease meeting new people, and the thought of having to do so as somebody's wife was even more concerning to her. She was bound to say or do something wrong and embarrass herself or, worse, Colonel Fitzwilliam, in front of his family.

"You are worrying," Lizzy observed with a smirk. "I can tell from your face. You mustn't fret, Mary! Colonel Fitzwilliam asked you to marry him because he loves you. I hardly think you can be anything other than complete happy."

This lifted Mary's spirits, despite the melancholy edge to her sister's voice. Before she could press Elizabeth on the matter, however, they heard the sound of the carriage arriving in the drive, and Jane's voice summoned them to hurry.

"Good morning!" Mary heard Richard's voice long before she saw him, and his comfortable tone put her instantly more at ease. He was so much more confident than she, but instead of unnerving her it gave her a little peace. He would surely handle any speaking that needed doing, and not leave her too much alone with his family. Her frown broke into a smile when they reached the corridor, and his eyes landed on her.

"Mary, dear, are you ready? We can delay an hour if you prefer to say a few more goodbyes." His eyes crinkled with humour. "I can only apologise that our carriage is not big enough to bring your piano with you but assure you the instrument at Rosings will more than make up for it. My aunt writes to tell me she is delighted you are musical, and looks forward to hearing you play."

Mary's nerves must have been apparent, because Richard hurried to appease them.

"I promise you will not have to strike one note if you do not wish it, and certainly not until you are rested. Come, are you ready to go now?"

Mary nodded that she was, and let go of Elizabeth's arm to take the hand that he held out to her, pausing only to bid farewell to her mother and father and Jane. Kitty and Lydia were nowhere to be found, but Mary could not bring herself to miss saying goodbye to her two youngest sisters. They had never been close, although both Lydia and Kitty had scarcely ceased from expressing, time after time, their abject shock that it was Mary who was to be married. No, she did not need her sisters' teasing to add to her already fractured nerves.

A shadow fell over the hallway, and Mary glanced up in time to see Mr Darcy appear, some steps behind his cousin, and wearing an expression of resignation.

"Miss Elizabeth, is there anything else you wish to bring to Rosings for the visit?" he asked, his voice a mask of polite indifference.

"You are very kind, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth said, with a courteous smile. "But all of my belongings are packed with Mary's, and being loaded into the carriage even as we speak."

His instinctive reaction had not gone unnoticed by Elizabeth, who was briefly her old self once more.

"You need not worry, sir, I use the term "loaded" figuratively only. You may be surprised to see how light my sister and I manage to travel, even with the consideration of Mary's trousseau."

"I made no comment one way or another," Mr Darcy said, with a grimace. Turning abruptly to his cousin, he continued, "Are you reedy, Richard?"

Mary and Elizabeth both were swept into a whirlwind of embraces and farewells, with Mrs Bennet actually sacrificing her campaign of silence with Elizabeth long enough to press her eldest daughter into an embrace that Elizabeth did not entirely despair of. A last farewell, a last wave, and the four young people were packed into their carriage, which rolled gently into motion.

"And so, to Kent!" Richard said, meeting Mary's eyes and beaming. "I do hope you will like it, dear. And you, Miss Elizabeth." He turned to Darcy, his tone teasing. "What say you, cousin? Is Rosings ready for not one but two Bennet sisters?"