Hello all, I need your help... You see, this guy Mary is meeting in the story I don't know how powerful he should be. First I thought that he should just be rich, but then I thought that he should be an Earl or something... But somehow an Earl seems too... I dunno, far out... what do you think?
Normal rich guy or Earl? and in case of Earl can you give me a good name... like Earl of -??- Something flashy... arh, you decide!
Chapter 4 – a new friend
The ball was nothing like Mary had ever seen before. People were dressed so superior to what she knew and the music was of the finest art. She could not help but gawk a little at the sights around her. Although balls had never impressed her she was certainly impressed now.
Almost immediately upon entering they were greeted by their host, a short elderly woman with a merry expression on her face. She led them around, introducing them to the various people. Jane and Lizzie were already quite known apparently, for many approached them and wished them well. However, in the corners hid also people who did not seem to like the two young women and Mary picked up quite a rude word from an elderly lady as she walked by.
"How rude!" Mrs. Bennet said angrily to her two eldest daughters upon hearing one of the rude words herself. "Gold diggers? In my family? I have never heard such a disgusting thing in my life before!" And so the party moved on, both Jane and Lizzie rolling their eyes at their mother.
The general party was polite to greet Lydia, Kitty and Mary, but Mary noted some restrain and had no doubt that the party thought them as gold diggers coming to steal their men. In her quiet mind she mused this over and came to the same conclusion. Though she herself was not thinking of it as such she knew someone else was. Her mother primarily. Even Lizzie and Jane had talked about some sweet rich men, but that was their circle of friends now, so there seemed little wrong with them doing it. Despite hating it Mary knew that everything seemed to revolve around making a good match. She didn't like it, and as such she kept herself from moving among people too much. Not that this was a change, but for once it wasn't due to anxiety of failure but due to pure disgust of the people assembled.
Overall the party was not much. Lydia made quite a few people laugh, but Mary was not sure if was because of her merry entertainment. Kitty got to mingle around a little and dance with a few strangers and enjoyed herself fully. Even Mary, though keeping a cool distance, had few conversations.
Lydia later on mentioned, with a great laugh, that she had heard someone call Mary a snob. A name undeserved all things considering. But Mary was not entertained. For some silly reason her mind had strayed to an event more breathtaking than the ball. The bookshop was still fresh in her mind and her curiosity begged her to return.
It did not take her long to persuade her parents to let her go to the bookshop.
"My dear head!" Mrs. Bennet cried out at the morning table, making quite a few people winch.
"Indeed," Muttered Mr. Darcy in consent and picked up his fork. Mary, seizing the opportunity said:
"Indeed! You should know that drinking is not only dangerous but it makes people vile!" Mary started, waiting for the first objection. She did not wait in vain.
"Lord! Mary, stop lecturing us! Just because you're dull does not mean the rest of us should be!" Lydia whined and then threw herself over the water in some feeble attempt to replace the alcohol. Mary smirked to herself, but immediately caught Mr. Darcy's eyes. She turned her face, anxious should she have been seen.
"Can I go to the bookshop?" Mary asked, knowing that most of the party was eager to get rid of the lecturing. Her father nodded in consent and Mary got up. Mr. Darcy's eyes followed her out she knew and for a moment she feared that he might see through her little lecturing schemes. Not that she had always had an ulterior motive than lecturing, but sometimes one could gain some freedom by simply being annoying.
In a rush Mary left for the bookshop. She did not notice much on her way, her mind solely occupied by the man behind the bookshelf. She wished she had seen him. Something about him made her curious. She had never seen a man cry. Or heard it. It had always been women. Her father had been through rough times, but he had never cried. Men did not cry, seemed to be the general idea. But then it had to be a huge thing to have happened to this man since he did cry! Mary mused and hurried her pace unconsciously.
Upon reaching the bookshop Mary found it almost empty. She slipped through the shelves down to the end where she had been before. There were none. She sighed, worried that she might never feel the way she had done again. She had never felt so bold and free. The experience had been intoxicating and she wanted more. He had not judged her for it; she had done so herself.
She found a chair and sat down. For a long time she listened to the people shuffling around her, not bothering look up. Eventually, however, she got bored and decided to go back. Books held no interest to her right now. As she reached the door a familiar voice rang out.
"Excuse me, Sir," Mary halted, her ears carefully listening in. Slowly she grasped a book near her and slowly turned around as inconspicuously as possible. She was just in time to see a raven-haired gentleman move down the isle between the shelves with the shop keeper.
Biting her lower lip she took a quick decision. She laid down the book again and followed the two men from the other side of the shelf, carefully listening to what was being said.
After a couple of sentences she was absolutely sure it was him. She felt her heart quicken. He had raven hair. So this was how the man who let her be free looked like! – From behind anyway.
"Thank you," the man spoke and then shop keeper left. Mary could hear the man browse the books on the other side of the shelf. She had no idea what to say. What could she say that didn't sound silly? She didn't even have the right to say anything to him. What if he got mad?
Eventually that man seemed to have found what he was searching for and he gave a small "Ah, here it is" in appreciation. His steps moved away and Mary blurted out:
"Please stay!" His steps stopped and she heard him turn. For a few seconds silence reigned and then he moved on. "Please," she asked again.
"Are you talking to me?" The man asked and she heard him move closer. She flushed by her casual behaviour.
"Y-yes," she whispered against the bookshelf.
Curious the man asked, "Can I help you."
"I'm sorry!" Mary gasped, nearly breaking into tears by her own frustration.
The man laughed a little and said, "For whatever for, miss?"
"For last time! When we were farther down!" Mary declared and the man fell silent.
"Ahh..." he said quietly and she could hear him moving slowly downwards the shelf. She moved along. "Please, let us forget…"
"I… it was not my place. I'm a woman, women should not-" Mary interjected, but was cut off.
"Don't be so hard on your own sex," He asked quietly and Mary fell silent.
"Everyone would agree with me," she said quietly, "I was curious about you… and… I felt so bold. I never loose control over myself… I… I don't know," she concluded almost tiredly. "I've been thinking of you since it happened..."
"And you've been worried about my anger?" He half laughed and Mary returned it unsure. "I am sure no one would hold it against you. All you did was… to enquire…" he seemed uncomfortable and Mary quickly led him away from the uncomfortable affair.
"My mother would," she said, surprisingly herself with her boldness once again. "I'm sorry," she said again, for bringing her mother into the matters.
"You apologise far too often," He exclaimed and Mary laughed. "Out of curiosity, why would your mother care?"
Taking a deep breath Mary said, "She opposes every form of boldness. It would drive people away."
"I am sure your friends would not mind," he said and when Mary did not reply he said "Oh…" another few moments of silence reigned before he added. "Men," and Mary agreed with a quiet mumble. "Are you poor?" The man asked, "I am sorry! Forgive me, I did not-" Mary laughed at him and he fell silent.
"Please, if I am bold enough to enquire to affairs none of my business so can you," she laughed lightly, "We have housemaids and my two eldest sisters are… very rich… but not gold diggers!" She hurriedly added. "They were lucky to find love."
"Some people are very lucky," he agreed with a contemplative voice.
"Everything seems to revolve around making a good match!" Mary pouted suddenly.
"Yes! Everything! People cannot decide for themselves in fear of loosing their heritage!" The man exclaimed and Mary heartedly agreed.
"At least you men are luckier than us poor women!" Mary informed, "You get to inherit!"
"As if that is something. Sometimes I wish was poor in order to live like I want to!"
"Oh no! Please, that would be awful! I've seen such people and many of them resort to alcohol! Money is needed," Mary concluded.
"So is the opportunity of making your own choices," he replied and Mary agreed. "But you women don't have it hard. Everything is so easy with you. I've never met a woman who wasn't skilled. You're all so…" he struggled in his eagerness to find the right words, "well you're all very skilled! You dance so gracefully and you write, sing, play, pain and sew!!" Mary laughed again.
"Indeed?" Mary asked, "I've never met a woman who can do all those things to perfection. Even the most skilled woman I know have only a few of those skills perfected," Mary informed, thinking briefly of Georgiana who had herself informed that she much rather enjoyed paining and playing than sewing.
"Really?" He asked curiously.
"Did you really believe we would be good at all things?" Mary enquired intriguingly. "That would equalise all women… well, if you didn't take their looks into consideration," she said.
"What are you good at?" He asked and Mary let out a contemplative sigh.
"I read. I love reading. And I play. I sew. Although my interest for that subject has greatly decreased since I keep pinching myself with the needle," the man laughed.
"Indeed! I should fear sewing too! All those needles and the patterns you sew after are so small!" He cried out in mock horror.
"Do not underestimate sewing!" Mary informed severely, "or I shall make you sew yourself and I daresay your attitude shall change to true horror," they laughed.
I wanted to portray 2 people meeting. They don't know how each other look and it makes them forward. They create a strong bond through the things they share. They can be bold without being judged. They create a "true" friendship in the sense that there are no first impressions by the eye and hence no judging as such and they get to know each other better instead of trying to impress each other.