Chapter 11: Jolly Christmas
Mr. Bennet seemed to recover his spirits a bit with the arrival of Christmas, but Mary was always alert if anything should happen. She visited him only she saw fit to, since her father had different moods and did not like to be bothered.
Mrs. Bennet found herself more annoyed than worried about her husband and mocked him playfully whenever they got up in the morning.
'You've lost your drive, dear Sir. Now you cannot torment me anymore.'
The old man always smiled pained at such allusions and felt that if he were in power again he would slap his wife. But as she leaned over his white hair to give him her usual peck before leaving the chamber all his anger would disappear and he would see in front of him only the scared maiden he had swept away more twenty years ago. Her father had never liked him and for a long time he had been slightly bothered by this nuisance. That all changed when he found out his wife was finally with child after nine months of marriage.
From that moment on, he felt a perverse pleasure knowing that there was nothing to be done anymore and her father could not even frown. He had done his duty, he had created a family.
Mr. Bennet did not love her when he married her and even when his little girls used to jump up and down surrounding him with kisses, he did not feel grateful for such a blessing. In order not to raise any suspicions, he dedicated himself to his daughters, forgetting that he had a wife.
Yet, when Jane left, when Lizzie left, even when Lydia left, he realised his façade could not last much longer. He knew everyone would eventually leave and he would remain alone, in a dusty house, keeping his wife company. And that thought paralysed him with fear. It was fear because she would discover…she would discover he only respected her deeply.
Thus he wished to prolong that moment or die before it could come to be.
Yet, ever since he arrived at Pemberley and his illness had intensified, he felt a strange regret that he had not spent more time with her. Even when he did not have business in town, he invented all sorts of schemes in order not to have to be in her presence for too long.
It was a cold, insufferable, wretched morning. It was December 23 and he felt as old as time. However, he could finally get out of bed and wished Mary would accompany him in the gardens a bit.
As he raised himself from the pillows, a hard hand helped him get up.
'Mr. Bennet, nice of you to stop idling. Now, you shall join me on a walk.'
Mrs. Bennet looked at him expectantly. Her eyes shone with mock and love.
'What about the girls?' he asked weakly knowing she usually spent her time sewing in the drawing room while listening to her daughters' incessant talking.
'They have no time for me. Not even dear Lizzie and Jane, my dear girls are trying hard to get everything ready for tomorrow. I've told them to let the maids help them, but they are as stubborn as a mule in that.'
'As they should be…' he said amused.
'Make haste then and get dressed.'
With that she left quickly as if she were a wild deer running from her hunter.
He felt quite foolish, reviving his youth years but he put on his church clothes, nevertheless and took his silvery cane.
She joined him outside their chambers, like an expectant fiancée and without looking back they both went down in the gardens, supporting each other's weight to emphasise their old age.
The howling wind stopped for a moment to watch them stroll across the iron coloured burnt grass as the late chrysanthemums bowed, dead at their feet.
Lonely hills spoke to them of what could have been had they been separated, grey skies made them silent as years and memories ran across their eyes with a frightening speed.
She was wearing a white, heavy dress and black strands escaped her tight bun, flying playfully in the air.
'Ah, Mr. Bennet, how beautiful…' she exclaimed as he coughed heavily.
'Dear woman, it is cold and barren, beauty has no place here.'
She frowned and poked him playfully on the cheek.
'And what now, am I not beauty enough for you?'
She laughed of old age, looking through him across the fields.
Mr. Bennet was about to reply, but a strange fear overtook him and he simply tightened his grip on her hand.
She smiled sadly and intoned strange words he had not thought of before.
'Have no fear Mr. Bennet, I am here, death shan't cross us yet.'
He did not cry, or sigh. But he smiled at her, the only genuine smile he had ever given her.
The moment passed by and as the wind kept howling she started chatting about Kitty and Mary and how she felt she would never see them settled and die with that horrid pain.
Mr. Bennet did not listen too much. He never did. Instead, he thought that he could not have been old at all. In fact, he must have been no more than twenty three since he had just started loving his wife.
Miss Bingley, meanwhile, was exacting her sweet revenge for not having had the opportunity to join the family on their visit to Mr. Fowler's house and was trying as best as she could to make Lizzie discomfit as she aided her in preparing the house for the celebrations.
Elizabeth was considering telling her off, but only her good manners kept her from rebelling as she used to when she was sixteen and a friend of Mrs. Bennet's had exclaimed that she had never seen a more bedraggled child.
'Miss Elizabeth,' she would say refusing to include her as a Darcy, 'I do not think you should ignore the advice of a woman with age and experience.'
'Why, Miss Bingley, you are perfectly right, but I do not wish to bother my mother for this task,' she replied insolently. Miss Bingley left the room furiously, pretending to retire for a bit of rest.
'She won't be breathing for far too long in your presence,' Mr. Darcy used to tell her amused, though such prospect was not a sad one in his twisted mind.
In the end, Jane managed to convince Miss Bingley to assist Georgiana with her etiquette lessons and spend more time with the young girl, rather than try to be of any use to Lizzie.
This earned Jane Georgiana's utter dislike and for long she could not forgive the eldest sister for sacrificing her like that at the mercy of a crazed spinster.
Yet, she relented with Mary's help and accepted to listen and even discuss certain issues with Miss Bingley concerning dress, manners and instruments.
'Miss Darcy, I will make you a lady indeed if you but respect my word, you shall see, all your past misery will be forgotten,' she used to say and poor Georgiana had to restrain her urge to make a mockery out of her.
'That woman thinks I shall marry the king if I simply start walking and acting like her!' she used to exclaim to Mary when they sat together in her room. 'I only hope she will be gone soon with her brother and his kind wife.'
'You know your anger towards Jane is useless…' Mary tried to tell her softly.
'And well intended, I assure you. In fact, Mr. Bingley was very close to marrying me, to tell you the truth.'
After this stale statement they did not talk for another two days.
Mary felt very lonely indeed and knew that all this misfortune was caused by the dreadful atmosphere in the house and only wished Christmas would pass faster.
In the midst of all this she found some small comfort in talking to Kitty on their trivial walks across the grounds. The chilly weather bit her cheeks and made her eyes water, but she did not want to spend too much time inside where she could fall in the nets of a disgusting depression.
'Where is Lydia, by the by? I haven't seen her all that much,' Mary asked her as they passed the stables making Kitty smile reminiscent.
'Oh, she went to call on Mrs. Woble, the pastor's wife. It seems she has taken a liking to her since this is the fourth time she visits.'
'Have you seen the woman?' Mary asked curiously.
'Mr. Prowler has and tells me she's very ignorant but charming indeed.'
'Then it is justified…' she said cynically.
'Ah, how mean you are,' Kitty intoned poking her playfully.
After some moments of cold silence the younger sister dared speak of something quite never breached before.
'What is this business between you and Mr. Fowler?'
'I beg your pardon?' she started surprised.
'Oh, come Mary, do not play innocent with me, I am not blind you know.'
'I have nothing to say regarding Mr. Fowler, but that he is a pleasant acquaintance.'
'An insufferable one you mean, at least to everyone else.'
'Nonsense, he is well liked by all.'
'Ha! You, however, are blind. Well then, we shall see him on New Year's Eve and then I shall laugh at your attempts to hide your blush.'
Christmas Eve came when no one really expected it or wished it, as it seemed only Mr. and Mrs. Bennet found happiness in the prospect.
Everyone seemed put off and wanted to be alone away from the presence of others. Georgiana barely talked to her brother and he tried in vain to make peace with her, but he shared Mary's pain as Miss Darcy locked herself up in the piano room with Miss Bingley, playing as loud as she could so as not to hear the woman's rattling voice.
Yet, it seemed that a ray of hope and joy might break that grey cloud as in the evening the entire family would reunite for the Christmas dinner.
All Lizzie's work would pay off in the end, she hoped as she truly considered the peace of spending one Christmas with her husband only.
Kitty was in a state of odd agitation and Mary could barely calm her down as she paced her room up and down waiting for Lydia to come home from yet another visit to Mrs. Woble.
Lydia had even insisted to invite her and her husband to the Christmas dinner but Mr. Darcy refused firmly, making the youngest sister address him some very shameless insults under her breath.
'Ah, this is all wrong. Why must we make such a ceremonious event of it? There's no use for it… I'd rather simply share the presents and go off to bed,' she said sulkily.
'And what has gotten into you?' Mary asked amused as she leaned against the drawer.
'Nothing at all. Look,' she told her sister as she pointed towards a small bundle under her bed.
'That's where I keep my gifts. Everyone will be pleased that I thought before time. You know, I've had them ready since October! Really, I have.'
Mary smiled, shaking her head.
Kitty fumbled with her dresses which were laid across the bed, waiting to be picked as the perfect one.
'What do you think? Which shall make me look presentable?'
'You know I have no taste for these things…' Mary replied.
'Ah! You too, then. Be a bother, why not? It's horrid enough as it is.'
The elder sister wondered briefly why Catherine was so discomposed but then she remembered the Colonel had been invited as well.
'Oh, so that's what's bothering your little soul,' Mary intoned amused.
'What can you mean?' she said turning abruptly.
'Oh, I shall laugh at your attempts to hide your blush!' she spat, repeating her sister's mocking words.
'Ha. Ha. Very funny indeed, Mary. If you think the Colonel has any effect…'
'Did I ever mention him?' Mary said chuckling.
'Ah! Get out!' Kitty yelled throwing a comb after her.
Darkness fell upon the lands rapidly, engulfing the house in shadows and mists as the wind died down and not even a breeze shook the barren trees guarding the gates.
If one entered the great Pemberley hall, one would see or hear nothing, everything was silence and dreams as some lost scullery maid swept the floors, invisible to any visitor.
Soon, however, that silence was broken as a brash voice erupted in the entire house.
'Mr. Bennet, what on Earth did you do to your waistcoat? How will you look presentable tonight?! Ah!' Mrs. Bennet bellowed distraught.
It seemed her voice woke everyone up and shyly, as if seeing the world for the first time, the members of the family came out of their respective chambers, smiling and intoning "Merry Christmas" to each other.
All the presents had been brought in the drawing room as they sat ceremoniously on the mantelpiece, shining oddly in the fire's light, but no one dared go there until after dinner.
Georgiana let herself be led by her brother downstairs but showed no sign of remorse at having fallen out with him. Instead she held her head high and fixed her gaze on a faraway dot across the room.
She missed Mary terribly and planned on apologising tonight, establishing a sort of truce between the two friends, yet she would not show any compassion to Mr. Darcy.
Kitty and Lydia looked ravishing, the latter having kept her charms despite her large belly and they both shone with pride at their apparel. Lydia was scowling and frowning, however, because she knew it would be tedious and boring without the company she wanted.
Thus, everyone gathered in the grand dining room which looked a tad more cheerful with the help of Lizzie and Jane as they had placed red ribbons on the chairs and put a white tablecloth patterned with purple and pink flowers to hide the dark, rickety aspect of the furniture.
The Colonel arrived promptly, dressed in his elegant military uniform which he rarely wore because it made him look more like a Spanish imperialist rather than an English gentleman. Nevertheless, he looked quite handsome and presentable which only increased Kitty's flutter.
Mr. Prowler, who had not taken such great care with his apparel, seemed indisposed to see that Catherine no longer looked only at him across the table. He had gone hunting through the woods with his loyal horse that day, in order to set his mind clear and think of what he must do, but he found himself in a sad state, wishing more to return to London as he sat glued to his chair in the dim dining room.
The irony made it that Mary was sitting next to him, picking at her food and not seeming to be in the best of moods. Her row with Georgiana was now affecting her more than before as she had no one to talk to, but for James and Miss Bingley on the other side.
Mr. and Mrs. Bennet seemed to have recovered their youth again as they talked and laughed with everyone around them, Mr. Bennet albeit being far more poised than his wife, but truly content and full of mirth.
Mary found some comfort seeing that her father was enjoying himself, but could not suppress a sigh since she had to stand her neighbours for almost two hours.
As she looked across the table she saw that Catherine and the Colonel were sitting in a suspicious proximity but refusing to notice each other's presence.
Even though the cruet was right next to Kitty, he asked Lydia to get it for him since he did not want to bother Catherine. In the same way, Kitty asked Lydia to pass her the bowl of mashed potatoes even though the Colonel was holding it. This little game annoyed Lydia so much that she deliberately sat up, scowled strongly and found another seat next to Mrs. Bennet who did not even notice her huffs and puffs.
'They're acting like children, really…' Mary muttered rolling her eyes as she stabbed the red meat in her plate.
'Whom do you speak of, Miss Bennet?' James suddenly asked her curiously.
She turned surprised that she had been heard and tried to breach another subject, but she suddenly considered that this would be a good opportunity to let him know her sister was already engaged, though only by feelings, to the Colonel.
'Those two…'she said casually nodding towards them, 'making such a fit about addressing each other. Who would have thought relationships were so complicated?'
James frowned, taken slightly aback, but his smirk returned to his lips as he sipped from his glass of wine.
'Ah, you wouldn't know, now, would you, Miss Bennet? But indeed, Miss Catherine and Colonel Fitzwilliam seem to be leading a battle of lovers. Who will win? I think the lady shall. They always do.'
This was not the answer she expected, but Mary did not wish to back down half-way through.
'Perhaps…in any case, if one wins they both do. That's how it goes for lovers and no one can break that path.'
He smiled bitterly and shook his head.
'And yet you have no experience to speak of, Miss Bennet. These are just empty words. Or have you ever loved then?'
She frowned and remained silent, but he continued.
'Oh, but please, do not be put out because of my impertinence, I find your theories very amusing.'
'Amusing?' she asked calmly. 'I'd rather say, Sir, they should be enlightening to unfit suitors.'
'Remarkable way of making me jealous, Miss Bennet! It's a pity it does not touch me at all. Am I to understand you do not wish me to approach your sister?'
Flustered, Mary answered in a dry voice.
'I'd rather you did not, Sir.'
'And why is that?'
'Because you might perhaps ruin her chance of ever being happy,' she replied coldly.
'Miss Bennet, if you think I am the one standing in the way of her joining the Colonel then you obviously know nothing of Miss Catherine. When a woman wants to have a man, no bridge, no fire, no obstacle will stand in her way.'
Mary considered these words and admitted to herself that Kitty would have to give up her vanity for it, but did not want to give Mr. Prowler that satisfaction.
'If you claim so then do not confuse her anymore with your incessant flirting and courting. Let her be, you know how she is easily influenced…'
'Why should I, when it is so amusing and refreshing after such a dreary London as mine. Yet I had no idea you thought so little of your sister,' he replied chuckling.
Mary's face reddened but she was poised enough to remember where she was.
'You do not have any serious intentions with her, yet you trifle with this issue as if…'
'And who told you I have no serious intentions?' he asked.
She looked at him with horror. 'You do not intend…'
'Maybe I do, maybe I do not. I shall see to it, Miss Bennet. Now, what is the cause of this fit? Are you still upset with me that Victor found you as charming as I do?'
Mary did not wait to hear more, but made to get up.
'Sit down, there is no need to break off the wonderful dinner simply because I dared challenge you, Miss Bennet,' he said pressing her hand.
She glared at him and opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment Miss Bingley decided to interrupt.
'And what is the commotion about, Miss Bennet?'
'Nothing, madam, we were only having a pleasant chat, weren't we, Miss Bennet?'
'Yes...' she muttered annoyed as she tightened the grip on her wine glass.
'Oh, do let me hear what you are saying,' Miss Bingley intoned interested.
Mary sighed covering her eyes with her hands.
After two long, gruelling hours the party made to retire to the drawing room where the presents waited. Mary considered this a blessing from God as she could barely contain her anger any longer. Distancing herself as best as she could from both James and Caroline, she hurried to find a solitary place near the fireplace where she could observe Kitty and she would not be too noticed, vexed as she was.
As Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy already started unpacking some boxes and Lizzie poured some brandy in her father's glass, Georgiana came up to her with a soft smile.
'There you are, hiding like always.'
Mary smiled relieved. 'Now more than ever. Georgiana I…'
'Do not say a word. I was a nasty little girl when I said those things and believe it or not, I even considered apologising to Jane Bingley for it, but changed my mind quickly afterwards.'
Mary managed a short laugh as she took her hand in hers.
'My point was that I am sorry. And I apologise. I'd like to be on speaking terms again, though.'
Mary nodded happily and the two embraced each other laughing as Mr. Darcy watched them with a sad look in his eye.
'What are you two laughing about?' Lizzie said as she ruffled Mary's hair. 'Come now. Do you not want to see the presents?'
The three of them joined the party as Kitty was just handing her father as a gift, another one of her embroidered handkerchiefs, which had his initials on it. She made the same gift every year knowing how often her father lost his handkerchiefs, thus Mr. Bennet felt more than delighted at the sight of it and kissed his daughter warmly on the forehead.
Catherine laughed good-humouredly and taking another small package waited a moment, took a long breath and with firm steps, approached the Colonel who was standing next to Mr. Bingley.
'Merry Christmas, Sir,' she intoned shyly as she handed him the package.
Everyone was stunned by this, including Mr. Prowler who stood transfixed in the door way as he watched on curiously. A deep silence engulfed the room as, an even more baffled Colonel, reached out to take the package.
He forgot to thank her, but only fumbled nervously with the present until he discovered it was a similar handkerchief, white and soft, with his red initials on the front of it.
He was so impressed by this gesture that he could find no words to express his sudden joy, but Catherine only bowed and let her hand be kissed.
Mary forgot all her bitter feelings and smiled with pleasure seeing as Kitty had not forgotten their deal.
For the rest of the evening, Kitty and Jane sat at a small coffee table watching Mr. Bingley and the Colonel playing chess or backgammon and the latter was in such ecstasy that he won almost every game, searching shyly for Catherine's approving smile.
Mr. Prowler, however, did not show his displeasure, but only found some amusement in talking with Mr. Bennet of London affairs and different local news. They both seemed engaged in their talk, but from time to time Kitty would address him across the room with some trifle that did not even bother the Colonel.
Mrs. Bennet, Lydia and Caroline sat in a corner gossiping without release all that was to happen at the New Year's Eve Ball and no one dared interrupt them or join their vicious circle.
As for Mary and Georgiana, they sat together with the Darcys but their conversation was cold and prompt, seeing as Mr. Darcy and his sister refused to participate in the discussion, giving each other only sad looks. Not even Lizzie's wit made him smile as he used to and Mary felt how strange and desolate the atmosphere was. The only thing that made her smile was the Colonel's repeated victories.
After a while, however, Mr. Bingley retired letting Mr. Prowler replace him as he sat down at the cards table, facing the Colonel. They both looked at each other impassively as if preparing for a cold battle, but neither showed any sign of discontent.
Kitty was so delighted with this arrangement that she intoned in a sweet voice that whoever won the match would have her hand at the Ball.
With such prize in mind, the Colonel knitted his brows in concentration, trying not to fail as Mr. Prowler barely showed a care, smirking with amusement as he moved the bishop on the chess board.
Catherine stood behind Mr. Prowler, watching the game and frowning slightly, as if threatening the Colonel not to lose. It seemed as though she was on the wrong side of the table as she did not even notice Mr Prowler's presence next to her.
'Well, James seems to have won this time!' Charles exclaimed amused as the game ended.
Kitty let go of the folds of the dress she had been holding and giving the Colonel an upset look congratulated Mr. Prowler on his victory.
'Now my dances shall all be yours,' she said accusingly, but smiled complacently, giving James her hand.
'Just as expected,' he replied.
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked crestfallen as he did not get up from his chair. He looked down at the warm rugs and only touched the handkerchief disappointed.
'It's midnight. Let us all raise our glasses,' Mr. Darcy suddenly spoke up.
'Merry Christmas' everyone intoned in a rather tired voice as their glasses clinked.
'And I hold the cup for the most beautiful daughters a man could have and the dearest wife,' Mr. Bennet replied happily though his voice shook slightly.
His wife kissed him ceremoniously making everyone laugh but as Mary tasted her wine she realised it was as sour as ever.
The stars faded in the darkness of the cold winter sky as a candle on the mantelpiece flickered joyfully.
'What are you thinking about?' Georgiana asked as they both swung in the wooden swing, the cold wind playing in their hair. The garden looked as empty as a cemetery even though some rays of sunlight shone shyly.
No snow had fallen, no sign of rain, only bitter weather.
'I want to go home…' she replied.
'You've gotten tired of me?' she asked amused.
'Everyone seems displeased…father is not well and now Catherine…' she continued.
Georgiana looked at her sadly. 'You worry too much.'
'I do not worry enough, perhaps…it's all wrong, everything went wrong.'
'What did?'
'Well, that was not the warm, cosy Christmas we had expected, was it?' she said dryly.
'It was just as any other family Christmas. Tedious.'
Mary laughed bitterly.
'You think so?'
'I do. But maybe you should find time to worry about the only person you seem to ignore.'
'And who is that?'
'Yourself,' Georgiana replied.
Mary brushed the comment off and only looked across the horizon, as if trying to see the other half of the world.
'Missus, Miss Catherine is a'calling you,' a soft, stale voice addressed her and she noticed the scullery maid was standing in front of her.
'What for?' Georgiana asked, but the maid knew not.
As they both entered the house they found a distraught Kitty in the hallway, pacing nervously.
'Catherine, what happened?' Mary asked.
'Oh, Mary, there you are, you must come with me.'
'Whatever for?'
'Mr. Prowler has invited me on a walk, but I do not wish to go alone, please, you must come!' she said in one breath.
Mary barely had the time to understand when a sudden noise made them look outside. A luxurious carriage had stopped in front of the entrance stairs.
The doors opened and a tall man with an eager, sharp look walked across the room, not addressing anyone. He bowed to Mary and lifted his hand as Kitty and Georgiana looked on baffled.
'Miss Bennet, I came as I promised,' Mr. Fowler said in a grave voice.
Mary was at a loss for words, but she suddenly heard Georgiana speak.
'I'll come with you Catherine, if you like.'
Kitty nodded but did not look at her, her gaze being fixed on Mr. Fowler.
'Well, then?' he asked again.
Unsure and confused, Mary gave him her hand and without wasting a moment he rushed her to his carriage and soon they were both out of sight, leaving the two girls looking after them in complete disbelief.
'Father won't be pleased…' Catherine murmured.
Mary stepped out of the carriage as Mr. Fowler led her towards the entrance hall. In broad daylight, the grounds looked wilder, if possible, with over-grown ferns and plants threatening to swallow the dull yet proud mansion.
'Do you plan on...' she asked looking at the garden.
'Not at all. I enjoy such mystical scenery and I shall leave it that way till I die.'
The house seemed empty and silent as their steps echoed across the walls.
'Is there no one in the house?'
'The servants remain in their quarter.' Noticing her doubtful look he smiled.
'If you fear I shall murder you and bury your body in my wild garden, then let me tell you I never harm my chess opponents.'
She laughed, considering herself rather silly for worrying so.
'Well, I do not suppose my family will very much agree with this visit.'
'And I could not care less, Miss Bennet.'
Without any sort of other small talk he took her hand and led her towards the drawing room. She wanted to retract her hand but he held it tightly as they passed different rooms, of different colour, of different time. The air inside that house was suffocating, warm and cold at the same time and instead of blushing, Mary was quite white. Her heart beat had not intensified, instead it had become slower. The house had quite an effect on her.
The faded sun lit their faces as they sat down at the chess board, facing each other ceremoniously. Framed pictures were spread across the walls showing warriors in their battle, bloody moments in history, red covering the canvasses. The fireplace was cold and empty as only cinder whispered strange chants to her.
The game started. He did not look at her at all. She did not look at him. He was indeed a very good opponent, perhaps too good for Mary, but she refused to give up. Black and white squares played in front of their eyes in such a rush that Mary did not even hear him.
'Checkmate.'
She stopped and looked up. He looked pleased, yet disappointed.
'Again.'
One brow shot up as he smirked craftily.
They started a new game, but before long she heard him intone his victory as he had done before.
'One more time,' she replied coldly. 'One more time.'
He complied. Another storm of black and white started, with no room left for grey. Only good or evil battled and Mary knew she would win. The pawns hit the chessboard with anger as she let some drops of sweat glide down her forehead.
He tried showing his superiority but her will was too strong.
'Checkmate,' she said pushing his king with her index finger.
They looked at each other as if transfixed. She had wanted so much to win that a feeling close to hatred had engulfed her, but looking at his beaming face she found peace again.
'Excellent game, Miss Bennet. I should know when I am defeated.'
She smiled humbly.
'Perhaps now you'll chide me for my lack of manners,' Mr. Fowler mused as he got up and called the butler.
'We shall have a spot of tea if you like, but we'll only stay a while.'
The tea was brought in as they sat by the window, gazing at the desolate meadows.
'Drink up while it's warm,' he said as he stood next to her. Their shoulders touched but neither said anything.
What a strange man indeed…she thought.
'It's odd that you should tempt me, Miss Bennet to do something I should not,' he suddenly spoke.
'What do you mean?'
He slowly encircled her hand with his and kissed it lightly.
'Well then you finished your tea. Now I can take you back home,' he said not letting go of her hand.
The large carriage drove off again through the cold fields as he smiled at her mirthfully. His eyes seemed to say "We share a secret" and she understood that she should not tell anyone too much of the meeting.
Before they arrived at Pemberley he squeezed her hand one more time and let her go. However, before leaving he addressed her.
'You shall expect me soon. I do want to settle up my defeat.'
Catherine and Georgiana had not come back yet from their walk with Mr. Prowler, thus she found herself free and alone to think in her room.
No doubt, they would ask. No doubt, she would keep her secret.
'But what secret is that?' she asked herself, though she felt she knew.
Mary did not have to wait long for Mr. Fowler to return as he came back every day to take her to his house to play chess. Most of the family had noticed this odd happening, but strangely enough only Mr. Bennet once told her she would better not visit the gentleman so often.
Georgiana acted as an accomplice and, whilst always chatting with her about those visits, made it possible so that others knew very little of them. She tried as best as she could to see her friend smile and even chided Catherine for mocking Mr. Fowler and his odd way of courting.
Mrs. Bennet was in ecstasy and thought only how lucky Mary was to be approached by such a gentleman as Lizzie and Jane could do nothing more but share her opinion. The only ones who were truly indisposed were Mr. Bennet and Lydia, the latter considering Mr. Fowler would have been a good match for her.
Nonetheless, for seven days he came ceremoniously and Mary followed him without thinking of the consequences.
On the fourth day, however, he did not draw up the chessboard, but decided only to talk and read as he brought volumes of books for them to enjoy in front of the fireplace.
'You have finally given up, then?' Mary asked him playfully.
'I have. It's time I admitted the truth,' he spoke gravely.
Some minutes passed in silence as both started reading. Mary, however, could not silence her curiosity and chose to speak.
'What truth is that?'
He did not lift his eyes from the book. 'The truth is I hate chess and derive no pleasure from it. I also dislike company or friends.'
Mary looked at him baffled and confused.
He reached for her hand and placed it in his palm. 'Well, then, you should consider yourself the exception, Miss Bennet.'
When they did not wish to read anymore, they would unanimously and silently choose to take a walk together, as if they were an old married couple.
He showed her the house thoroughly, leading her in a sort of rhythmic pace of a dance through each room.
They even dared a walk in the wild garden and as cold as it was, it still looked like a dead summer reigned there. She usually encircled her hand around his arm and walked fearfully next to him as if four years had passed and not four days.
'May I ask you something, Sir?'
'You may ask and I may choose to reply or not.'
'What is your birth name?'
He smiled at her. 'Guess, then.'
She frowned. 'Well…I would say Edward?'
He shook his head.
'George, Richard, Henry?'
'No, but you are close. British names all sound like horse excrement really.'
She laughed, but continued to think.
'Don't tell me you have the name of a woman?' she asked.
He sighed. 'It's Harold.'
'Oh…'
They both started laughing.
'It's an interesting name.'
'I beg to differ.'
'At least better than Mary.'
'And why is your name uninteresting?'
But she remained silent.
On the fifth day he tried to teach her how to dance. She refused politely, but he did not want to hear anything of the kind.
'There is no music, Sir.'
'We do not need it. We need only imagine the sounds.'
It was another late morning, since the visits took place only at that time and feeling tired and listless Mary wanted nothing to do with it.
'Come now. You must…Or do you think I will take the chance to have another shameful dance with you at the Ball?'
His mentioning of it made her blush slightly.
'I have told you, Sir, I am not meant to dance.'
'Then you shan't dance with me. And that would truly indispose me, since I do not wish to dance with anyone else.'
This argument convinced her and they could be seen gliding across the room as he intoned strange commands to her which only made her laugh more.
He barely held her waist as he let her lead.
'I thought the man led.'
'Did I tell you to speak, Miss Bennet? Now, head up high and slide gracefully…move your arms, do not keep them stiff.'
She complied and turned.
'I said gracefully. Try again, come.'
They continued so until the clock chimed. It was almost two o' clock.
'Late indeed…' he said as he smiled at her.
The last day before the Ball, he swept her off again very early in the morning, despite Mrs. Bennet's alarm at not having time to get ready for the coming night. Even Georgiana was slightly puzzled, but again, no one dared comment too much.
Half asleep and half confused, Mary looked out the window again, watching at the same time Mr. Fowler walk across the room in a nervous pace.
'Close your eyes, Miss Bennet.'
At first she did not wish to oblige, but seeing as he was serious she obeyed.
Suddenly, two soft arms touched her white, smooth neck as a soft click was heard at her nape.
His fingers lingered on her collarbone but he eventually let go.
When she opened her eyes she saw reflected in the glass a beautiful pearl necklace.
'I want you to wear this tonight as I dance with you. This will prove your dances are to be mine only.'
She looked at him stunned.
'Sir, it's too much, I could never take it.'
'Fine, do not take it but I do not want to see you again if so.'
Mary did not know what to say. She was very puzzled by such behaviour. She barely knew him and had only spent a week in his company and he was already giving her jewellery.
As if guessing her thoughts he smiled.
'I am not your usual suitor, Miss Bennet. I quite loathe those twits with long hair and hopeful eyes who wait a year to kiss the lady's hand. I act quickly. That is where people make their mistake…They lose things because they do not take hold of them quickly enough.'
Mary had never heard such a theory and she was at a loss for words since Mr. Fowler had deliberately admitted he was in fact, a suitor after all.
He approached her slowly and kissed her softly on her forehead.
'Now then, Pemberley awaits our return.'
'This early? For Goodness' Sake…' Georgiana exclaimed as she sat on her bed facing Mary.
'Would you keep your voice down?' Mary whispered slightly vexed.
'Very well then, how did it go?'
'As it usually goes. A strange man…a strange house…and I do not know anymore,' she replied as she took out from her pocket the pearl necklace.
'Lord!' Georgiana almost shrieked as she snatched it surprised.
'It's beautiful...' she murmured as she inspected it carefully. 'And it must cost a fortune.'
'That's not the point…'
'I know very well. But why did he give it?'
'He told me to wear it at the Ball tonight.'
Georgiana looked up and smiled. 'Then it's obvious. You are his chosen one!'
'Whatever do you mean?'
'All gentlemen give a token of affection to the one they have selected to be their…'
'Do not say it. It's too ridiculous!'
'And why is that?' she asked disconcert.
'Because Georgiana, I barely know the man.'
'But you know how strange he is…perhaps that is his usual approach.'
Mary looked around the room and sighed.
'It's all very confusing. He admitted, in a way, that he is courting me. But how could I be sure?'
'Mary. Are you happy?'
'What do you mean?'
'Are you happy when you are in his presence?'
'I…I cannot say. I guess so. If that is happiness…but I cannot define it.'
Georgiana laughed. 'Ah, you truly are infatuated.'
Mary frowned. 'Impossible, it's only been seven days.'
'More like seven years for you,' she sang.
She tried smiling, but she kept feeling very dizzy.
'Why are you so frightened?' Georgiana asked at length.
Mary looked up. 'He…I don't know anything about him.'
'You have an entire life to find out.'
'You speak as if we were already married,' she snapped.
'Not really, but he shan't give up that easily just because you are afraid of commitment.'
'What do you mean?' Mary asked as she got up and started pacing across the room, holding the necklace.
'Mary Bennet, you are afraid of commitment, of marriage. Admit it.'
'I am not,' she replied weakly.
Georgiana scoffed.
'Alright, maybe I am. Is that a crime?'
Miss Darcy giggled and without saying anything else about it rushed her to her room to get her ready for the Ball.
'It's only eleven in the morning!' Mary protested.
'And the Ball starts at six. Be kind and stop being absurd.'
Mary flung herself on her bed and grabbed a book.
'Ah, you are impossible,' Georgiana said as she threw the dresses on the bed.