Hi everyone, I've finally got around to updating this story again, it has taken me a while :) I can only attribute it to divided attention, since I have so many other stories to work on, but Mary's one of my favourites, so I found time. I want to thank all of you for your lovely reviews (am truly happy everyone was pleased with the Colonel's appearance) and your encouragement that motivate me sometimes when I seem to run out of ideas, which happens very often.
I hope you enjoy this chapter:)
4: In Surprise
There was talk, however, and much talk to be made.
When the cab drew near the Forsters' residence and the upper windows of the house opened in curiosity and the children across the road scampered nearby to watch the strange man climb down the ladder, Mary Bennet knew there was going to be much talk.
She was inclined not to take his hand as he extended a rough but round and plump palm towards her. One of the servants had already come out and was calling for her.
Only a moment later, Lydia jumped into the frame of the doorway.
'If I may be of assistance,' the Colonel repeated, shaking his hand in impatience.
Mary gripped it much tighter than it was necessary and nearly flew over the steps as her legs hit the ground once more with a bleak thump.
At the sight of her, Lydia gasped.
'Mary, your stockings! Where are your shoes?' she asked alarmed. Mary revealed she was holding them in her hands.
The Colonel looked around in dismay. Mr. Forster was nowhere in sight. He would have wanted to exchange some words. He felt terribly unwelcome and uncomfortable among these strange women.
'Lydia, I see you are back,' Mary muttered, looking at her forehead.
'Well, yes, I am back, but poor Mr. Forster is out looking for you!' she said, walking towards her precipitately.
'Oh, goodness,' Mary whispered, glancing at the Colonel who looked equally disconcerted.
'Where have you disappeared then? We were all worried!'
'I lost my way around town. I was a bit ill, you see, and I had left my salts at home...' Mary began flustered.
'I found her by the sea side, taking the air in,' the Colonel intervened politely, 'and I made it my duty to bring the Miss home, since I am a good acquaintance of Colonel Forster.'
Lydia's eyes widened as she surveyed the handsome, tall and proud man in front of her. He had an air about him which admitted no hesitation. She felt humbled and ridiculous for having yelled at Mary like that.
'Yes, Colonel Fitzwilliam was kind enough to take me home,' Mary confirmed, wringing her shoes in her hands.
'I beg your pardon, Sir, we were not properly introduced, I thank you kindly for taking care of my sister. She is quite hopeless, I'm afraid,' Lydia said sweetly, curtsying so low that her dress swept the entire courtyard.
The Colonel nodded grimly, watching the hems of her dress flow back and forth in a steady rhythm and allowing himself to remark that this young woman was remarkably attractive and short-tempered, two attributes which did not always collide.
'Well, it was my pleasure, after all, but we must find Colonel Forster immediately, the man shouldn't be out troubling himself any longer,' the Colonel reminded them.
'Well, yes, of course, you are most certainly right,' Lydia began.
'Lydia, where is Mrs. Forster?' Mary asked concerned.
'She had a bit of a fit when she realized you had disappeared and she is in bed now, resting,' Lydia replied crisply, her eyes watching her accusingly.
'Oh, I am very sorry to hear that, please kindly inform her she has nothing to worry about anymore,' the Colonel replied in Mary's place, smiling uneasily.
'Oh dear, I will go speak to her myself and apologize,' Mary said. 'Right after I have a change of clothes.'
Lydia was about to ask her about her miserable attire and the reason for her current deplorable state, but Mary slipped away quietly into the house not giving her the opportunity, turning only once more only to thank the Colonel and wish him a good day.
Lydia looked after her in confusion.
'I am terribly sorry, she is such a curious girl, she gives us so much trouble sometimes,' Lydia began, trying to find a way to invite the Colonel inside.
'Yes, I can see that,' he replied quietly, narrowing his eyes at her.
The girl had run inside without so much as a polite curtsy or a serious acknowledgement on her part and she had not even paused to bid him a proper goodbye. She had just left him there, indifferent to the fact that she had been terribly impolite. He was not the one for unnecessary protocols, but this young woman had acted very unfeelingly towards him considering he had helped her so much. It is true she had been reluctant to his help from the start, but he had hoped she would be a little bit more grateful despite everything.
He felt more and more uncomfortable and stupid standing in front of her younger sister, chatting idly, though she was by no means an unpleasant company. His mind reeled back to his initial goal, that of finding Forster.
'Well, I'm afraid I should be going. I would like to have a word with the Colonel and save him his troubles for one day,' the Colonel spoke at length.
'Oh, but please Sir, do visit us again and stay for tea, we would like to show you our gratitude properly,' Lydia intoned. Her request was sweet and harmless and she also had the most charming dimples when she smiled.
'I shall, probably, now that I know the Colonel is in town,' Colonel Fitzwilliam assured her.
He kissed her hand. 'Please give Mrs. Forster my compliments.'
With that he took one last glance at the house and at the imaginary figure of Mary Bennet, climbing up the stairs, after which he climbed into the cab and disappeared from view.
In all the commotion and agitation, he had forgotten to inquire their last name.
The discussions after supper lasted well into the night, as did the rumours and tales which swept the neighbouring houses.
'How could you leave like that, Mary and give us all such a fright? Can you imagine what went through my head when I realized you had gone?' Mrs. Forster asked her in a shrill voice.
'How could you have been so selfish?' she asked again. 'I was expecting much more from you as the elder sister, but I see Lydia has tenfold more judgement than you.'
'You were very lucky that kind gentleman found you and brought you home,' Lydia intervened, getting up from the sofa and walking nervously towards the mantelpiece. She would have never admitted it in front of anyone, but she was secretly glad Mary had been the first to make a mistake and not her. It gave her a sense of superiority and wisdom. She was equally glad this had brought Colonel Fitzwilliam to her attention. She was waiting for the right moment to bring him up, after reprimanding her sister of course.
Mr. Forster was sitting demurely at one of the desks, pretending to write down some sums, but he was pondering on the events of that day as well.
'Yes, indeed you were very lucky Colonel Fitzwilliam found you!' Mrs. Forster exclaimed. 'What a heavenly coincidence! Otherwise I do not know who would have found you! I hope you realize this sort of conduct will not be tolerated under our roofs or in any decent society. I need not remind you that the entire neighbourhood is probably gossiping. A young woman brought home in such a dismal state by an unknown man, you wait and hear the stories they will make of that, Miss Bennet, you just wait.'
Towards the end of this fastidious speech, her voice dwindled and her matronly, sober words gave way to a more girlish and youthful tone she always tried to subdue in front of others. She was, after all, not much older than Mary.
'Yes, my wife speaks truthfully. There will be much talk about you, I'm afraid,' Mr. Forster suddenly spoke.
Mary bowed her head down. The prospect only frightened her because there would be nothing worthwhile talked about her.
'I will try to mend my mistake,' Mary said. Mrs. Forster felt slightly spurned that once again she could hear no apology in Mary's voice.
This was the second time the girl was openly defying her good intentions.
Of course Mary had apologized previously but the words had been so cold, after all, spoken in such a formal and distant manner that she was quite sure there was something pungent and incorrigible in her. Still, she was inclined not to think too ill of her because she imagined any girl of her age was eager to get married and become independent, therefore, she attributed her 'mild hysterics' to her desire to tie herself to a young man.
Mary, on the other hand, felt very embarrassed. What she loathed more than anything was to be at the centre of such undeserved castigations. She only wished she could fade into the paper wall once more, as she did back home, and enjoy the richness of her solitude without the intrusion of outside voices.
'I promise not to disobey any of you again,' she added soberly. 'It was an inconsiderate thing on my part.'
Lydia watched her in suspicion as she clasped her hands peacefully in her lap and resigned herself to their judgement.
She knew very well that Mary was only saying this to appease them. She had no real sense of remorse.
'Well, I believe for your Sake and ours you should not attend the Ball tomorrow night. It would be too early after such an indiscretion and it would be much more advisable for you to stay home.'
Mary warmly agreed.
'That would be for the best. I am much inclined to stay here,' she replied, nodding her head in contentment.
'You almost sound happy about not attending,' Mrs. Forster remarked crossly.
'No, I would never sound happy. That would be impolite,' Mary contradicted her.
Mrs. Forster felt once again that Mary was deliberately challenging her. That is why her husband's intervention came as a relief, more than an argument.
'Now, now, I shall have none of that. The Bennet girls are staying with us for the season and neither of them is going to miss any chance of society. Her parents have bestowed her on me and explicitly asked me to secure her welfare and I shall do nothing short of that. Mary shall go, of course, and she shall like it,' he said, leaving no room for argument.
As the two sisters prepared for bed that evening, Lydia couldn't help but breach the subject once more just so she could have another word in the saying. This time, being in the safety of their room, she could afford to express herself more naturally than in the presence of adults.
'And to think you were concerned about me spending too much time with the officers. Well, it seems you went and broke your own precious rules, so your word no longer holds power over me, Mary.'
Mary, who was tying her hair back in a bun, turned around and let her hair fall down in small rivulets around her face.
She walked towards Lydia's bed, where the young girl, sat almost undressed, watching her gleefully.
She took hold of the blankets and pulled them gently over her body, covering her completely.
Then she bowed and stuffed the loose strands back into her sister's night cap.
'I am still your older sister, like it or not. That will never change. You are bound to my words,' Mary said simply, tapping her forehead lightly.
Lydia opened her mouth to protest the weakness of such an argument, but Mary had already extinguished the candles.
The Colonel had been surprised to find out that the two girls were none other than Elizabeth Bennet's sisters. Forster had told him, in between their usual subjects of discussion, that the two were the younger ones of the family and they had come to Brighton to meet the militia and enjoy the sea air. He also mentioned that only Lydia had been actually invited by Mrs. Forster, to clumsily excuse Mary's unfavourable situation.
'What a small world, indeed, Forster! Why, I have heard of another Bennet sister myself.'
'How so, Richard?'
'My cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy, you might have met him, recounted to me having met the elder Miss Bennets at the assembly in Meryton.'
'Oh, of course, Mr. Darcy! The man himself! I didn't get the chance to speak to him personally, but I did see a great deal of him. It was too bad my wife and I left Meryton very early that month.'
'Indeed. He and his good friend Charles Bingley spent nearly a month at Netherfield and apparently had ample time to become acquainted with the sisters, especially the two eldest. I must say my cousin spoke in conveniently warm terms about Miss Elizabeth Bennet.'
'Oh, yes of course, we have had the pleasure of their acquaintance many times and Miss Elizabeth seemed like the most able-minded of them all, despite her age, not to mention she is quite a beauty in her county, but she is not excessively proud about it,' Mr. Forster agreed. 'A very gracious young woman.'
'Well, I cannot say for certain whether my cousin admires her or not, because he does not confide in me as I wish he would, but she has caught his attention. Of course he would never admit it. He is as stubborn as a mule,' the Colonel joked.
'I have heard a great deal about Mr. Darcy. He is a fine gentleman.'
'Fine he may be, but I would not say he is very agreeable in all societies,' the Colonel commented.
'I suppose then he will not join you in Brighton.'
'Oh, God no, not under pain of death!' the Colonel laughed.
'Well, at least we will be seeing you at the Ball, Richard,' Colonel Forster added.
'Yes, yes, do I have anything else better to do? But what a small world indeed!'
The Colonel was looking forward to speaking with the Bennets about their sisters and their family the following evening, but he did not have so much luck.
Lydia, the youngest, he had barely been able to remark among the many couples dancing. She was the most agile of the girls her age and she danced without a single pause, commanding the attention of every new officer she happened to be introduced to.
And there were plenty to choose from.
He supposed Mary would be dancing with the officers as well (though perhaps not equally solicited due to the inferiority in looks) because he imagined the Bennet sisters' sole goal in coming here was either securing a husband or at least flirting with as many officers as possible before acquiring those husbands.
Mary had come off as quite stubborn and quiet in the short amount of time he had been in her presence, but he thought that she would be in her element at a Ball and certainly much less inclined to brooding and throwing tantrums, especially since Darcy had told him the Bennets were a bunch of giggling, happy girls, dancing and enjoying themselves in the wildest fashions.
He was taken by surprise then to notice that not only was she not among the throng of dancers, but she was nowhere to be seen. He had not sought after her intently, but it had not been difficult to notice her absence. Among so many red coats, a young woman was an easy trace.
He did find Mrs. Forster who was only too happy to provide as much information about the two Bennet sisters as she could in one evening.
'Lydia is a darling. She truly is the sweetest girl I have ever met. She means to please everyone and she usually does, no one can stand her charm. She is so gentle, I told her from the start she was not meant for the country side, she is much too delicate and sensitive. But she is known as the handsomest of the sisters, right after the eldest, Jane. Her mother is very proud of her. Her father is a bit concerned she might be too young for so many outings, but she shows a great sense of maturity for her age, so I would not worry on that account,' she spoke warmly as she gazed at Lydia's disappearing figure.
'The room seems all too small for a vivacious girl like her, doesn't it?' she remarked, raising her eyebrow at him.
'She is very spirited indeed,' the Colonel agreed, staring at the bright chandeliers, whose lights were reflected in her cheeks.
'And very pretty,' he added. 'I might have to ask her for the honour myself.'
'Oh, she would only be too glad. I believe she was quite taken with you the first time she saw you,' Mrs. Forster confided in him. 'She told me so herself.'
Colonel Fitzwilliam straightened his back with the pride of a feline.
'I do not see the elder sister anywhere, however,' he began, trying to avert the conversation towards Mary.
'Oh, Mary. Well, yes, I would not expect you to. She is not exactly what I would call sociable. Even at Meryton she used to...sit by herself mostly,' she commented awkwardly. 'She is intelligent, I suppose and well-read, but she keeps to herself. Her mother calls her very accomplished, but an accomplished lady should be able to enjoy these sorts of social gatherings. Didn't Socrates call us social animals, after all?'
'That was Aristotle actually,' the Colonel began, but changed his mind quickly, 'then I do not suppose she would enjoy dancing or anything similar.'
'Oh, well, I do not know. I have not seen her dance at Meryton. And I don't suppose one shall see her here either.'
'She did not come with you tonight then?'
'Oh, she did, actually. She has retired to one of the rooms, I believe. Lord knows what the girl is doing there,' Mrs. Forster commented, laughing uneasily.
The Colonel's curiosity was slightly piqued.
Notwithstanding, he did not inquire after her any further. There were many guests there eagerly waiting to speak with him and he wanted to demand at least two dances from Lydia Bennet.
It was only much later in the evening, when he had played enough cards, taken enough turns about the rooms with all the willing ladies and filled himself with enough tobacco smoke to last him for a long time that he broke from his ample company a little while, despite the cries of protest, and went in search of a quieter place.
Unconsciously, he was also looking for Mary Bennet. He had remained curious about her self-inflicted isolation. He had not seen her at all throughout the entire Ball and he had grown suspicious. There was something unquestionably odd about a young girl hiding by herself in a room away from a Ball.
He turned towards the second floor, where it was bound to be quieter.
He found her in one of the drawing rooms. No fire had been drawn so it was noticeably colder in here. The light was almost a shadow, half of the candles were extinguished. She was sitting by one of the dark windows which had probably been filled with the crimson sunset lights just hours before. She was holding a book in her lap, but her chin hung down in chest.
She was fast asleep.
There was a certain amount of poetry, he realized, in finding a girl asleep at a Ball. How could she just stand there, reading herself to sleep, while everyone else was downstairs, dancing and enjoying themselves?
She must have heard the music and the laughter, the clinket of glasses, the broken sentences of people talking. She must have even tapped her foot lightly to the rhythm of the song.
Why had she not joined them?
Even if she did not like Balls, she could have sat on the side and watched the couples dancing. The dresses and the colours were certainly magnificent, if there was nothing else to admire. She could have conversed with some other women and men of her age.
She could have even read with the mothers in one of the card rooms. She could have at least eaten some wonderful cake and drunk some splendid wine.
Why would she deprive herself of the small pleasures of life to sit in a cold, dark room and read? She would only turn reading into a dreadful ordeal. Was she some new brand of snob?
He almost shuddered. Such people were small. They were miserable and they never enjoyed life.
He was about to leave the room, but he thought he should at least wake her up. The Forsters would soon have to leave and they would probably waste a good half hour looking for her.
He drew closer to her corner and coughed loudly.
She did not stir. She was a heavy sleeper perhaps. Her smooth face looked arrested in deep thought.
He stepped closer until he was in front of her chair. He crouched down slightly and shut her book.
Still she remained asleep. He read the title over the shadow of her fingers.
The Description of A New World Called the Blazing-World, written by the Duchess of Newcastle.
He wrinkled his nose. Not exactly his favourite read, but a curious choice nevertheless.
It was then that she finally opened her eyes.
It was strange because it happened all at once, as if someone had startled her from a trance. She did not even blink or move. She lifted her eyelids, as slowly and precisely as an owl, revealing an empty stare.
The Colonel almost jumped out of his skin. He hastily withdrew from her proximity.
He would have uttered an apology or something along those lines, had she not almost immediately closed her eyelids again.
He stared at her dumbfounded. It had happened so quickly.
Her face resumed the expression of deep and thoughtful slumber once more.
He waited for a long time, but she did not open her eyes again.
He felt quite shocked, but he couldn't explain it to himself. He thought he had imagined it all. It had only been a vision.
He did not dwell there any longer.
He left the room with the knowledge that the Forsters would take at least half an hour to find her.
Did anyone else pick on the foreshadowing names and situations in this chapter? Anyways, please tell me what you think :)