Chapter 7
The next morning, the whole family is still talking about the assembly. Jane is smitten already, and Lizzie is egging her on. Nobody, except Mrs Bennet, mentions Mr Darcy. She keeps ranting on how he would be a good catch, if he were not so boring. Mr Gregory, though, is well spoken of. Apparently Mrs Bennet found out he was a mathematics professor in London, with maybe two or three thousand a year. I mention that he told me he will probably be leaving soon – he told me so, after all.
Mrs Bennet insists he is a fine prospect for Lizzie or me, and encourages us to persue him while we can. We both let her comment slide; we're used to her antics by now.
But Lizzie did dance with him twice yesterday. As much as Jane with Bingley. And she's got this sparkle in her eye when she speaks about him, which is very similar to Jane's for Mr Bingley.
Gaah. I should nip this in the bud. Probably. Well, should I? Maybe having some competition would mellow Mr Darcy out a bit, make him make his move earlier.
I decide to wait and see.
A few days pass by, during which the families get to know each other better. I watch from a distance. Jane and Bingley often gravitate towards each other, and Lizzie and Mr Gregory also – although on a lesser scale. Both are social butterflies, and like to go around the room, telling their stories and generally being absurd.
I watch in silence. I am wary of this Mr Gregory and what he may do (although he seems fine for now), and at the same time, Lizzie deserves her own free will.
I do enjoy seeing Mrs Bennet throwing Lydia in the way of Mr Darcy, however. She is having none of it. She soon catches on that despite the pretty face, Mr Darcy is as closed off as a swiss vault, and is no fun at all. In general, she pretends that someone called her from the other end of the room, and leaves. He seems nonplussed each time – his surprised look is priceless, and I get no little malicious joy from it.
Generally, Mr Darcy just watches the goings on from a wall or a corner, and hardly says anything to anyone. Miss Bingley often goes to speak with him, and I must admire her persistence, because she is almost always sent packing within minutes.
Soon enough, we are at the Lucases for another party.
When the Netherfield party arrives, I see Jane and Mr Bingley quickly get into their own little bubble, then – to my surprise – I see Lizzie leading Mr Gregory towards me.
"Yes, I promise, Mary is truly a mathematics genius – she taught Lydia everything she knows, and probably knows much more!"
Uh oh. "Lizzie, I beg you would not exaggerate so. I just took the time to read and understand the few books Papa had on a topic which interested me."
"That's not what your youngest sister was describing," Mr Gregory exclaimed energetically. "She says you single handedly taught her everything she knows, and we were just engaged in quite a serious discussion about the importance of rigor in mathematics. Truly, I am quite impressed! I have always been more of a 'feel your way as you go and you shall find' type of person, but I do admire those who can make their work clean so effortlessly."
I blush. "Well, of course I taught her to be rigorous. That's how we don't devolve into speculation or even worse, mistakes! I do understand what you mean about feeling your way, and it is important to have that sense in research, but I have always insisted that if there is no demonstrable proof, then we cannot be certain a thing is true, even though it seems most natural to us."
We end up getting into a whole discussion, and I can't help but confirm my first impression of Mr Gregory. He seems earnest, happy to speak with people, and we have a very interesting discussion on maths. He really challenges me, which hasn't happened since – the 21st century, probably. Not to mention, his dishevelled hair and slightly askew glasses are really endearing. He's rather good looking. I could stare at him all night, maybe.
After a while I hear Lizzie has started playing the piano. She plays well, and with feeling, but she is not the most technically developed. Mostly because I have a tendency to hog the pianoforte at home a bit. Sue me.
We all settle down to listen, and I spy Mr Darcy, behind a column again, watching her. Aha! Finally, some interest on his side. I've been watching him – discreetly, of course – to try and spot signs that he will start to try to establish contact with Lizzie, or maybe just follow her around. For the moment, I haven't seen much of it.
But I still have hope. He really fell for her while she was at Netherfield, in the story. And, oh, how do I feel about that whole business (I'm talking about Jane being sick).
More on that later.
Right now, everyone is clapping politely at Lizzie's performance, and she has started a reel at Kitty's behest.
"Miss Mary, might I tempt you for a dance?"
It's Mr Gregory – we didn't drift apart, really, during the piano. He has this half smile which makes me melt.
"Very well, sir," I grin up at him. I really liked how he spoke to me about mathematics. Up to now, any man who has engaged me on the topic put on a superior air and clearly had much less knowledge on the topic than I did. Then proceeded to mansplain the whole thing – wrongly, I might add – at me. Extremely frustrating.
Mr Gregory isn't like that. He spoke to me like a rational human being, and I've been starved for those sort of interactions. Except Lydia, everyone around me either pretended to know more or didn't want to discuss the topic as equals. Mr Gregory clearly had no such preconceived notions about me, and seemed rather pleased to be having such a discussion at an evening party.
We dance, flanked by my sisters who have all found partners – Jane with Bingley, Kitty and Lydia with the newly arrived officers. It's lovely. Mr Gregory is the perfect dance partner, though we stick to some neutral chit chat while on the dance floor. Wouldn't want the people around us to wonder why we're discussing algebra, after all.
When it ends, I have a thought for Lizzie who has been playing for us all, and go to her, suggesting we might trade stations. I want to play, and give Lizzie an opportunity to refuse Mr Darcy a dance.
I immediately launch into a lively tune, and quickly lose myself in the music. It's so satisfying to do something like this, and do it well.
After a while, I start to feel as though I am being watched. It's from behind me, though, so I can't tell who it is. I don't let it bother me and let the music flow.
"I can guess the subject of your reverie," Miss Bingley starts, from behind me.
"I should imagine not." It's Mr Darcy! Important moment ahead!
"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner."
I'm both extremely curious as to what shall be said, but at the same time I can't believe I'm overhearing another conversation of Darcy's. I mean, is he doing it on purpose? Well, I won't complain. First class tickets, to the show!
I fudge the song a bit, and quickly get it going again. I know the piece by heart, I should be able to overhear and play it right.
"And may I ask which young lady, you are referring to?" Miss Bingley asked, in her most syrupy voice. Urgh, how to give someone a toothache.
"I could not tell you, Miss Bingley, it would not be proper," was Mr Darcy's curt response.
"Oh, Mr Darcy, please do," Miss Bingley is batting her eyes at him, I'm sure. Or giving him a good look at her décolletage. She is trying to sound breathy.
"Miss Bingley, I remember you play the pianoforte quite well. Miss Mary has been playing for the last half hour, perhaps you could replace her?"
My song had been drawing to a close.
Miss Bingley, like the good little solider she was, came up to me, practically begging for time at the instrument.
Once there, though – she launched into a complicated concerto. Huh. I have to admire her technical prowess, although all the dancers are glaring at her.
"Well, I suppose that's the end of the dancing for the night," Lizzie want to stand next to me. "I must say, Mr Gregory is a very agreeable partner, and he was filled with praise for you." No, I did not just get a warm, fuzzy feeling when she said that. "Mr Bingley is all that is good also, and I hope he and Jane will match. That Mr Darcy, however! You know, he never asked anyone to dance tonight? He is acting so superior. And I could see them gossiping with Miss Bingley while you were playing – did you hear anything?"
Oh. Lizzie is intrigued by Mr Darcy, then. Good. Maybe I can help him along a bit. And I mean, if he wanted to have a private conversation, he really should have paid attention and not had it within earshot.
"Well," I say, going into my best conspirator voice. "She was complaining about the nature of the evening, and our general savageness. But he mentioned he is enjoying himself, and even that he admires one of the young ladies present! Who could it be, do you think?"
"Impossible to tell," Lizzie looks around searchingly. "We must find out, though. I shall keep my watch, and I trust you to do the same. Perhaps I could ask Mr Gregory for insight."
"If he does admire somebody, it seems he doesn't wish for it to be obvious. He must be a private sort of man. I doubt Mr Gregory would have much insight."
"Well, it doesn't hurt to try to find out," Lizzie concluded, going to Mr Gregory with a light step.
I really hope I haven't broken the plot.