Chapter 8

Mary had a trifle of a cold (likely caught while helped the Gardiner children with her studies) which was quite trying on her patience. She had read her borrowed Shakespeare twice, the collection of books she brought from thrice, and was now flipping through A Vindication of the Rights of Women by Mary Wollstonecraft.

Mrs. Gardiner sat in a chair next to her bed while the rest of the family took tea. She held in her hands her own choice of literature: Gulliver's Travels written by a man named Jonathan Swift. "It's quite witty, Mary! Should you tire of Wollstonecraft's serious labour on the behalf of women's education, I will happily lend you my copy."

Mary smiled. "I am quite content for now, Aunt, but thank you." In truth, she had no interest in the book. While she had wet her literary palette with nonsensical pieces as of late, her return to informative literature was a comfort. Anyhow, Elizabeth had sent note that she and Miss. Georgiana would call later in the day while Mr. Darcy tended to estate business, and Mary was positive Elizabeth would be far more interested in her Aunt's 'witty' choice of reading.

She was lying flat on her back and sweating. She struggled to open her eyes. All she could make out were blurred figures hovering above her. Her name floated through the air. She didn't know who had said it, she only knew it was the one thing her mind was able to recognize. She tried to call out, but her throat was so dry she could not speak.

Her copy of A Vindication of the Rights of Womensat discarded on the wooden floor.

The next time Mary regained consciousness, it was dark and she was shivering. A maid sat at her bed side, eyes closed and breathing even.

"Miss. Smith?" Mary asked, her dry throat barely allowing the words to leave her mouth. Unsurprisingly, her voice did not rouse the woman. She gathered up all the strength she had and managed a gentle swat to the sleeping maid's shoulder. The light tap was enough to wake her.

"Miss. Bennet, glory be, ye's awake! Let me run for yer aunt, Miss."

Miss. Smith jumped from her chair and was out of the room before Mary could beg a glass of water. It felt agonizingly long a wait for Mary before Mrs. Gardiner hurried into the room, sing around her her dressing robe not even closed properly. She sat next to Mary, placing and hand to her forehead and whispering words of comfort and love.

Mary had questions, well, one question really: what had happened to her. And she asked just that.

Well, she had intended to ask just that, but all she could manage was a crass "water?"

Mrs. Gardiner waved her hand at a frazzled Miss. Smith who quickly ran to grab a pitcher of water.

While she was gone, Mrs. Gardiner spoke to Mary, "The doctor said your cold was getting better. He was completely baffled at your getting worse like that." She paused, and wiped a lock of hair from Mary's face. "You were so warm, love. We could have cooked breakfast on your forehead if we wanted." It was a joke, but Mrs. Gardiner's voice was heavy.

Miss. Smith returned with the pitcher and a glass. Mary drank what she was handed swiftly before quietly begging more. In a few moments, she had drained the pitcher and Miss. Smith was gone, this time to make tea and have the cooks prepare a broth.

Mary turned to her aunt. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble, Aunt. Normally I am of a very healthy constitution."

Mrs. Gardiner shook her head. "Elizabeth wanted to stay when she heard you were so unwell, but the rest of us thought it best she not risk it in her condition. Carrying a baby can make a woman more sickly, you know. I will have a letter sent to Darcy House when the day is a bit brighter. Your friend, Lady Elingston that is, stopped by. She paid a social call and was quite distract to find you unwell. I should send her a missive as well."

Mary frowned. "I hate to have caused so much concern."

Mrs. Gardiner patted the girl's leg in reassurance. "Everyone deserves to cause a commotion once in a while. Just don't make a habit of it." She stood from Mary's side then, as Miss. Smith scurried back into the room carrying tea and toast. "I shall go write those missives the, and you should get something in your stomach. You can't recover on an empty stomach."

It was within an hour of the missive being sent that the Darcys arrived at Gracechurch Street. It was decided Mary was still too weak to be out of bed, and that the family would have to visit her there. Mary was grateful, as she truly didn't think she would be able to carry herself.

Mary was surprised at the concern each Darcy displayed. Mayhaps she shouldn't have been. Lizzy had always been loyal to her family, no matter what embarrassments they concocted, a trait Mr. Darcy shared having jumped through hoops for both Georgiana and Lydia.

"I am quite well, it is just my muscles that are tired now," Mary said in an attempt to break the silence that filled the room.

Georgiana replied in haste, understanding the awkward attempt at starting a conversation. "Well, I hope the muscles in your fingers recover first, for I am longing to play some more duets. I have just gotten new music that I know you will love."

The two chatted back and forth, Elizabeth or Mr. Darcy inserting remarks when they were not whispering back and forth to one another. It was only when luncheon was called did the conversation cease and the Darcy party leave Mary's side.

Mary passed a few minutes by herself, thumbing the Wollstonecraft that had been placed on her bedside table. Elizabeth reentered with a tray of food: broth for Mary and actual food for Lizzy. Mary was just now realizing how hungry she was, so she hastily reached for her broth only briefly thinking of how it was rather improper for Mrs. Darcy to be doing the job of a servant.

Elizabeth picked at a biscuit and watched her little sister sip her broth with as much grace as she could muster. Something tugged at her heart as she watched her normally solemn sister now: weak and pale. It was a guilt that pulled at her heart; the guilt of not knowing anything of a family member.

Mrs. Gardiner had told Lizzy of Mary's stay in Town. Elizabeth had laughed at the thought of serious Mary helping with the children and being so surrounded by the society she had once heard Mary call 'utterly obsessed with earthly goods and without God.' But another letter from Aunt Gardiner proved how little Lizzy knew of her for the letter said she got on well with the children and had managed to accompany their aunt on several excursions in Town and at balls.

"Lizzy," Mary stared at her older sister and Elizabeth vaguely felt as if she was to receive a scolding, "you should eat more. You are eating for another person now, too, and surely picking at a biscuit is not enough to sustain you much less the person inside of you." It was all said in a matter of fact tone, but it solidified Lizzy's resolve to know her sister as a sister should.

"Mary, Fitzwilliam and I would like to invite you to return to Pemberley with us in a month." Mary's eyes widened but Elizabeth continued. "It would be so great for Georgiana to have a girl her age around and for me to have a sister with me while I am pregnant. Georgiana, of course, is a sister, but she is too young to be confronted with confinement and the like, and you, I think, would be great company for me in these times." Elizabeth ceased her rambling and took a bite of her biscuit, looking at Mary for a response.

"To Pemberley?" Elizabeth nodded. "In a month?" Another nod.

Mary's stomach dropped; whether out of excitement or dismay, she did not know.


Okay, I know everyone is just trying to be helpful when they tell me how unbelievable my story is, but I'm not planning on going back and fixing it. I already explained that I was tipsy when I made him a duke and wasn't really going to do research in such a state. Something that really bothered me was when someone said "I really liked where you were going with this before you decided to make him a duke" and "Mary isn't even Mary anymore."

I didn't have a plan as to where this was going until I made Elingston a Duke. As for Mary no longer being herself: that's kind of bs I think. She's growing up. She's still got her intellect and snark and judgements about certain things, but she is learning what is and is not proper for her to comment on. Either way, she's going to develop the way I chose to have her develop.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

God, it feels good to get that off of my chest.

Thanks to all the people have enjoyed this story or gently nudged me in different directions. You guys are the reason I'm even continuing. Tried a different writing structure this chapter. Sorry it was so short, but I have an exam Monday and a speech (on Jane Austen) on Tuesday.

x Emily Rose