In Hertfordshire time passed by as smoothly as could be expected, the lazy monotony of daily life interrupted solely by Mrs Bennet's sporadic bursts of motherly affection and guidance for her second daughter. Accompanying every "I always knew you weren't so clever for naught, my dear," was, without fail, an addition of "you must choose only exotic flowers," or "four courses shall be far too modest for a wedding of such caliber," and Lizzy soon tired of her mother's meticulous instructions and marked attention. The day of their departure could not come soon enough.
As fate would have it, the second last day before they would leave to London was exceptionally trying for all the girls. Lydia and Kitty had, as soon as their lessons and luncheon was over, sped off in all haste to Lucas Lodge hoping to escape any further comments on thread quality and seating arrangements. That morning had seen Mrs Bennet force Elizabeth into accompanying her on rounds to each of the families of Meryton so that she may, in the most proper manner, be publicly congratulated on her prodigious match. The fawning and jealous comments did nothing for Lizzy but produce an acute feeling of annoyance towards her mother and by the time they returned home even Mrs Bennet's good spirits seemed to be wearing off with the fatigue of their walk and her constant chattering.
It was at such an inopportune moment that Mary informed her mother Mr Bennet required her presence in the library. With a loud groan and heavy sigh at the tribulation, 'that man' was putting her through the woman slowly arose from her seat and walked off at a snail's pace. She had been in the library for no more than ten minutes when the door was swung open and a shrill "Mary Bennet, come here immediately!" filled the air, causing the windows to shake with every word. Each syllable was emphasized with intense anger and poor Mary jumped up in fright, nearly tripping over a basket of embroidery as she ran into the hallway. Elizabeth was so shocked at the sound she nearly fell off her chair.
"Are you an utter fool?" Mrs Bennet could be heard crying as the door slammed shut and loud murmuring took the place of the relative silence Lizzy had been enjoying.
In the library, Mr Bennet looked, although slightly annoyed, completely out of his depth.
"Fanny, dear, you cannot forbid the girl from getting married, Mr Ferrars is a good man," he said incredulously, trying to make her see reason.
"Please, mama," Mary pleaded, although her face showed barely any emotion.
"No!" came Mrs Bennet's reply, "No. No. No. No!" she yelled, each word slightly louder than the last.
"We shall become the laughingstock of Meryton, perhaps even all Hertfordshire! And what would Mr Darcy think? Why are you such a dreadfully selfish girl, Mary? Do you not want Lizzy to marry Mr Darcy and let Jane and Lydia have nice things and go to balls? Do you hate your sisters so?"
Mary had become very pale and fell abruptly onto the bench behind her, her face buried in her skirt as she leant over in anguish.
What if mama is right? What if I am being selfish? Just as Fordyce said no good woman should be! How could I have been so blind? I let emotion cloud my judgment, and let Mr Ferrars lead me to forget my true place.
Hot tears had begun to drip agonizingly slowly onto her skirt when Mr Bennet, for perhaps the first time in his married life, finally decided enough was enough. In space of less than two months Fanny had managed to reduce Jane to tears, almost completely destroy his Lizzy's chance at happiness, and now brought stoic, steadfast, logical Mary to the point where she was quietly sobbing into the folds of her dress. In his youth he had been far more similar to Mary than Elizabeth, always in the corner reading, never included in much of society's affairs, and he knew how difficult it had been for him to make the transition into a more active role. He could understand some of Mary's uncertainty and lack of self-esteem, which Mrs Bennet was only worsening with every word she uttered. Henry Bennet could take it no longer.
"Fanny that is ENOUGH!" he bellowed. So loud and abrupt was his outburst that Mary's head shot up, tears still running down her cheeks, and Mrs Bennet fell into her seat in shock.
"I will have no more bickering, no more accusations, no more belittling," his voice seemed to hammer every statement into Mrs Bennet's mind as she opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it, and proceeded to angrily stare at her husband in disapproval.
"Mary, I have already given Mr Ferrars my consent, although we both agreed on a long engagement so that he may first prove his ability to provide for you," Mr Bennet stated, his tone warning Mrs Bennet not to interrupt. Continuing, he said, "My girl, I will not have you surrender your chance to be happy, or even content, with your life. I have noticed the subtle changes in your character these past months and I am pleased with what I've seen. You are not selfish, Mary, you are merely a young woman in love. I would have hoped your mother could remember what that felt like," he added as his glance turned to the woman in question, whose expression had now changed from angry to annoyed with a slight hint of guilt.
At this Mary began to sob once more as the slightest feeling of relief washed over her body. Beneath her studious nature lay an extremely sensitive soul filled with self-retribution and self-loathing, the results of a life spent being berated and ignored by her mother and society. Even her own sisters had looked past her for most of their lives, and it had not gone unnoticed by the mousey, plain-looking girl.
"I will not have you breathe a word of this to a single soul, Fanny, not until we are ready to make the announcement. Mary can tell her sisters when she sees fit to do so," Mr Bennet's expression extinguished any desire to argue on Mrs Bennet's part.
"I am honestly not sure how to proceed," the man continued, thinking aloud and addressing no one in particular. After a minute of silence, throughout which Mrs Bennet stared daggers at Mary, Mr Bennet cleared his throat once more and made his decision clear, "Your mother and I have many things to speak about, and equally as many changes we need to make in our comportment and style of parenting, and I do not think any of it is appropriate for you or your sisters to be privy to. I will immediately send an express to Edward and Marianne, requesting all four of you girls join them and Jane in London for the season. I am sure they will have no objections, and the change in scenery will do you all well."
Mary was unsure of her reaction towards such news. She would welcome the respite from her mother and, certainly, her Aunt Phillips' berating, but neither did she desire to be parted from Mr Ferrars for such a length of time. He would most certainly find someone far more beautiful, and far more intelligent than she, and would soon forget all about her.
Perhaps that will be for the best, she mused, although the thought appalled and saddened her simultaneously.
At last she managed to murmur, "Thank you, papa," as the man sighed in defeat and gave her leave to return to the drawing room.
Mary did not, however, return to where Lizzy was waiting in extreme puzzlement and anxiety, but rather slipped up the stairs and into her room where shefell to her knees and began to pray for guidance after the events of that afternoon. It was only when Mrs Bennet returned to the drawing room, slamming doors and muttering under her breath, that Lizzy realized the magnitude of the argument they must have had and made her way to her sister's room. She found Mary asleep, still kneeling on the cold, hard floor, with her head and arms thrown out over the bed.
With a look of deep sympathy, Lizzy walked over to her sister's side and gently woke her, supporting some of her weight as she arose and fell onto the blankets, exhaustion etching her face with sadness and dark circles beneath her eyes.
"Oh Mary, dearest, what happened?" Lizzy murmured as she swept limp strands of hair away from her sister's eyes.
"Papa has said I must accompany you to London," was the only reply Elizabeth received as Mary's eyes fell shut once more and her breathing slowed. Drawing a thick blanket over her sister's body, Lizzy quietly left the room and shut the door behind her, both anxious for Mary's wellbeing, and infuriated that it was once again her mother's actions that had caused one of her siblings such distress.
As she walked past the library she paused, debating whether or not she should enter, and then making up her mind and lightly knocking on the door.
"Come in!" her father grunted, and she did as he said.
"Ah, Lizzy, you are indeed a sight for sore eyes!" Mr Bennet exclaimed with a forlorn chuckle and a feeble attempt at light-heartedness.
"What happened, papa? I have never seen Mary this weak nor Mama as angry as she is now," Lizzy inquired worriedly.
"I am afraid I cannot tell you the particulars - that is Mary's choice to make, but fear not my dear she has done nothing wrong. It is only your mother who has accused her of ruining the family and destroying her will to live," the man tried to sound amused, but all he managed to do was fill the silence with a hollow laugh and an even more dismal atmosphere.
"All I can say now is that you and Kitty shall be accompanied by both Mary and Lydia, who will remain with the Gardiners until I deem it appropriate for them to return."
Lizzy, seeing her father could not be aided any further through conversation walked over to his side of the desk and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Thus they remained for several minutes as Mr Bennet lightly patted Lizzy's arm, an unhappy smile on his face.
"I wish I could do something to improve the situation," Lizzy sighed.
"All you need to do, my dear girl, is be a good sister to Mary. The rest is not for you to fret over, that is my responsibility entirely! I shan't have you reduced to a ball of nerves mere months before your wedding!" at last the grey old man managed a genuine smile, and Lizzy was reassured things would eventually return to a state of normalcy. Perhaps not soon, but eventually.
It was an hour later that Lydia and Kitty, having returned from their outing, were informed of Mr Bennet's decision to send them all to London. Both girls rushed over and threw their arms around their father's neck in thankful hugs. Their cheer and affection did much to lighten the man's heart, and the two girls managed to keep the entire house only skirting the edge of despair all of the next day, instead of falling head first into the abyss and never returning.
That Thursday was a frenzy of packing and planning, with an express from the Gardiners' home arriving early that afternoon and stating they would be immensely pleased to host the girls.
Mr Ferrars had been summoned by Mr Bennet that morning and, after a short conversation in the library, the doctor emerged in search of Mary. The two spent nearly half an hour conversing quietly in the corner of the parlour, thankful that Mrs Bennet was currently refusing to come downstairs, and Lizzy was surprised and pleased to see the man gently holding both Mary's hands in his own as they spoke in hushed tones.
The visit did wonders to Mary's mood, and she even managed to play something other than what Lydia called 'music fit for funerals alone' on the pianoforte that evening.
Thus it was that early Friday morning the four girls set off to London, Lizzy thoughtfully quiet, Mary's nose buried in yet another book from Mr Ferrars, and Lydia and Kitty chattering loudly and excitedly over their prospects for balls and entertainment even though Lizzy noticed Kitty did so with less vigour than usual.
Mrs Bennet had not been seen since Wednesday afternoon and, although it puzzled the younger girls slightly they did not dwell on it all that long. Not when they had theatre, and dances, and shopping, and 'all those fashionable ladies' to discuss.
Just under four hours later, Lydia, who was seated facing the front as she got violently, and loudly, ill traveling backwards, spied the outline of London looming formidably upon the horizon.
"I see it! I see London!" she shrieked, jolting both Lizzy and Kitty from their light naps and spurring even Mary to stick her head out of the small carriage window for a better look. Lydia and Kitty had never before visited the city, and their excitement and awe was visibly expressed in face-splitting smiles and nervous giggles.
A slight mist had descended upon the city and a sudden, cold gust of wind chilled the weary, yet excited, travellers to the bone. Much was about to change in the lives of the Bennet sisters, and they would face many challenges and heartbreaks as the weeks passed, but for now, all they could truly give any thought was warm tea and equally warm baths.
Several minutes later the road's surface abruptly changed and, with a small bump as the wheels of the carriage rolled onto the smooth stones, they entered the outskirts of the city. A storm was approaching and all the girls could do was hope to survive the battering and emerge stronger on the other side.
Mr Mortimer Thornton, investigator extraordinaire, was whiskers deep in a letter from his old friend with the Bow Street Runners when a rush of cold air entered through his open window and effectively extinguished every last candle in the room. With a grunt of annoyance he arose, shut the window, and called for his housekeeper to relight the candles with all haste.
"Mrs Higgins! Mrs Higgins! This dreadful wind has left me in utter darkness!" he shouted, as he groped around his desk in search of the letter that had fallen in his hurry to close the window.
He had finally obtained some information on the elusive Bennet family, and had only just begun to peruse the details when the lights had disappeared.
As Mrs Higgins hurriedly relit the candles, Mr Thornton at last located the letter he sought and leant back in his chair, adjusted his spectacles, and continued his reading as one hand fiddled with the pointy side of his moustache.
'Henry Bennet, esq. brother in law to Edward Gardiner of – in Cheapside, has no known associates of interest. In regards to his wife, I could find no information of worth either. There have been no recent announcements, articles, or trade agreements formed in the Bennet name and the fullest extent of the biggest scandal I could find reached only to Marianne Gardiner, nee Compton, of the Yorkshire Comptons, who was disowned by her extended family shortly before her marriage to the aforementioned Edward Gardiner. I am afraid I found nought in relation to any of the young Bennet women.'
Mr Thornton was thoroughly perplexed. Not a single scandal? Could it be the Bennets are nothing but an insignificant country family? Lady Catherine is going to be extremely displeased, he thought with a sigh as he reached for his writing materials and began his address to the great Lady de Bourgh.
He would continue to keep his eye on any and all Bennets in the vicinity of London, but he could guarantee no information of value, he wrote. It was the first time in his long, successful career, that Mr Thornton had found not a single scandal, nor a single piece of gossip.
Perhaps it only requires that I look deeper, he mused, and in a moment of impulsive decision he sent off another missive to an acquaintance in the administration of His Majesty's Army. Perhaps he would be able to find evidence of desertion, or by pure luck a Bennet who had been sent to sea, but even Mr Thornton himself had to scoff at the idea. This family seemed far too inconspicuous to have committed any crimes.
To say Lady Catherine was displeased when she received Mr Thornton's letter a day later would be a gross understatement. The cheek of that country, good for nothing, mongrel of a girl! she silently fumed.
Well! If blackmail is not an option, I know for certain bribery shall work! she thought with a devious smile. Yes, if there is anything those rural savages love more than ensnaring eligible young men, it is a fortune of their very own.
Her mind made up, her decision final, her course plotted, and her goal fixed, she impatiently summoned a servant and sent him scurrying in the direction of Hunsford. That Charlotte girl had mentioned something of her friend Elizabeth coming to visit, and Lady Catherine was determined to be prepared when she did.
A/N:
Guys, I have a confession to make. After quite a few reviews saying my Mr Henry Somerfield is similar to a Henry Tilney from Northanger Abbey, I'll just have to come out and say it. I've never read the book. Like I was seriously shocked when I found out there was another Henry similar to the one I dreamt up. How crazy a coincidence is that!?
In other news, OUR GIRLS ARE IN LONDONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN, and Lady C is maaaaaaaaaaad. xD
Let the games begin!
Alright, it's time to review the reviews!
Nancieellen – I really enjoyed your insights into the characters and your comment on Mrs Camden definitely cracked me up!
HarnGin – I seriously hope dear Caro won't soon resort to wearing 'exotic' twigs in her hair in an attempt to create a trend. How absolutely lovely would that be?
LadyLizzyPuff12 – what can I say? Your review covered so much and mentioned soooo many super insightful observations! I'm really glad you noticed that I'm trying to flesh out the characters just a bit, not necessarily change them completely, but help them develop and perhaps explain the reasons for their actions. For instance, I had a thought this morning, what if Mrs Bennet was experiencing the symptoms of menopause, which is why she had such terrible mood swings, anxiety and irritability, and the like? I mean no one really knew that women went through it, so it could easily be mistaken for mean/stupid behaviour. I'm definitely not justifying Mrs B's actions, but I'm thinking they could have been affected by her changing hormones and all that. I know it's a super sciency sort of thing to go into with a FICTIONAL novel, but I guess Jane Austen's world didn't have much knowledge of it either, so it could be one explanation of many. Mrs B could perhaps just be a bitter old hag too.
And also, GO JANE! xD
.378199 – Yes we're in January! Actually I changed the P&P timetable a bit allowing Charlotte and Mr Collins to Marry mid-December instead of January, and therefore Lizzy and the Lucases will visit in February, not April. I have lots in store for the Viscount, as well as for Mr Reeding, and they still have loads of development in store. And thanks for your great reviews! I really enjoy reading them.
TO ALL THE BEAU MONDE OF REVIEWERS,
Merci! Merci beaucoup! I am LOVING the thoughts you guys are sharing on EVERYTHING! And yes, I feel a little diabolical for having you all confused between Mr Reeding and Viscount Andrew. Whomever shall Jane choose!? Will Andrew even make it known that he IS a choice? Jane has quite a bit of growing to do too, let's hope she doesn't take forever.
And also, HOW PATHETIC IS MR BING-BING . Look, I have nothing substantial against book, or movie, version Charles Bingley, but UGH. He is so incredibly gullible, Lydia is going to chew him up and spit him out in heartbeat. I just always seemed to think he didn't have much of a backbone allowing his sister to walk all over him the way he did. I don't know what Darcy sees in him. Perhaps he reminds Darcy of 14 year old Georgiana. You never know.
Anyhoo, Thanks again for sticking around, you guys make writing this story worth it!