Maria Lucas was tired of being thought of as a silly girl. She was but fifteen years old when her neighbor Elizabeth Bennett married the fabulously wealthy Mr. Darcy, and caused a stir of interest that kept their mothers clucking for months. But then, she had always considered her mother and Mrs. Bennett as very much like hens, so it was not a dramatic difference.
She was the dearest of friends with Elizabeth's younger sisters Kitty and Lydia, who were considered very silly by all who knew her.
Now two years had passed, Maria was now seventeen. Lydia had been married to Mr. Wickham, and privately Maria thought she was just as silly as a married woman as she was a sixteen-year-old flirt. Now, Kitty, out from under the influence of her frivolous sister, had settled down some, much to the delight of her father, who concurred that there was at least one less silly girl in England.
Maria had always been regarded as silly by association, even though she was always far too shy to be as outrageous a flirt as Lydia, or as boisterous a complainer as Kitty. Strange it was, how everyone, including her mother and sister Charlotte, considered her as vain and thoughtless as her companions. She liked dancing and flirting as much as any other seventeen-year-old girl, but she also liked to read, especially poetry. Especially Keats and Sir Walter Scott. There was no one, in her mind, that could hold a candle to Sir Walter Scott.
It was springtime at Lucas Lodge, which meant an annual visit from her sister and her odious husband Mr. Collins. Maria personally couldn't stand him, with his contemptuous stupidity and misplaced vanity. This year, however, would be different, she thought, and definitely in a more positive direction. This year Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were coming for the visit, for Elizabeth had always been close friends with Charlotte. Jane, the eldest Bennett girl, and her agreeable husband Mr. Charles Bingley, were coming as well.
It will be a fine house party, she thought. Mr. Bingley was bringing some of his friends from London, and they were all staying at his house in Longbourne. New people in town were always exciting, even though Maria herself was never particularly noticed by any of them. She was of average height and average looks, the same as her sister, and Maria had long since decided that if all those got you was a husband like Mr. Collins, then she had better be resolved to eternal spinsterhood.
"Ah, Miss Lucas, here you are." Mr. Collins poked his head in through the slightly ajar library door. "I would never have guessed to look in the library! It's wonderful, absolutely wonderful, this fancy of yours to expand your mind. Oh, oh, dear Charlotte told me all about it, my child. If I may be so bold as to recommend several titles for you to ponder on? Though I do not consider my own judgment to be so great, I have it on the word of Lady Catherine DeBourgh that my opinions are not to be ignored!" Mr. Collins followed this speech with a chuckle that was surely meant to be self-deprecating, but only served to annoy Maria further.
"Mr. Collins, good morning. Is my sister or mother in need of me?" she asked, avoiding his offer of mentoring her 'expansion of the mind'.
"Oh, yes, my dear. Your mother sent me in search for you, she wants you to attend her upstairs, for the guests will be arriving shortly for tonight's entertainment."
Maria sighed quietly, thanked Mr. Collins politely, and headed upstairs to see her mother.
"Maria! You're not nearly ready! We have less than an hour before the guests start arriving!" her mother, in various states of dress, seemed on the edge of some sort of breakdown. "You know how Mrs. Bennett likes to come early, and stay late! Hurry along to your chamber, silly girl, and get yourself presentable! You know Mr. Bingley is bringing his bachelor friends from London! And of course Mrs. Michaels will bring all her vulgar daughters, in hopes of snagging one of them. What are you waiting there for, girl! Go and put on your blue gown. It's the most presentable, I suppose. Go, child!"
Maria sighed again and left to comply with her mother's wishes. This night might prove to give her a glorious headache, or great diversion. She supposed it was all in how you looked at it.
Several hours later, she was sitting at the table, silently observing the newcomers to Lucas Lodge. Seated next to Mr. Bingley's left, was a Mr. Townsend: truly a blond Adonis if there ever was one. Maria had no interest in any Adonis, although Kitty was staring at him most interestedly. On Mr. Bingley's right was his wife Jane, next to her, her sister Elizabeth, next to her, her husband Mr. Darcy. On Mr. Darcy's right, was Mr. Shipman, another one of Mr. Bingley's friends from London. He was quiet throughout the meal, only speaking when directly addressed. He was also seated almost directly across from Maria, which allowed for much casual observation. He had a tall, thin frame, thick curly brown hair, brown eyes and a wide mouth. He seemed pleasant enough, she thought. His sparse replies were always pleasant and cheerful, and he seemed to enjoy the company.
Mrs. Lucas and Mrs. Bennett had been steadily addressing Mr. Townsend; Maria supposed he was the richer of the two, as well as being better looking.
"Mr. Townsend, Mr. Bingley informs me that you are fond of music," Mrs. Bennett said.
"Why, yes, madam, I am overtly fond of music. Especially the pianoforte; I always appreciate superb talent." Mr. Townsend replied with an easy grin.
"My daughter Mary is quite devoted to the pianoforte," Mrs. Bennett said in a confiding tone. Maria tried to hide a laugh. Mary was well enough as far as looks go, but a person more determined to remain unmarried Maria had never met. Mr. Townsend, however, did not know this. He turned his brilliant smile upon the girl in question. "Miss Mary, I would be delighted to hear you play," he said, "if everyone here will be so accommodating." There were general grunts of assent throughout the room, and Mary, without so much as glancing at her petitioner, rose from the table and made her way to the pianoforte.
As everyone else arose, Maria thought, Ah, now we'll hear the gossip about the young gentlemen. She casually took a chair in the drawing room near her mother and Mrs. Bennett, who were, predictably enough, discussing that very thing.
"Have you ever seen a more agreeable young man than that Mr. Townsend?" Mrs. Bennett exclaimed. "He seems most obliging and honorable," Mrs. Lucas agreed. "And has five thousand a year! Can you imagine? Oh, if only…" her words trailed off as she took notice of Maria. "Don't you find Mr. Townsend most agreeable, Maria?" she asked her daughter.
"I suppose," Maria answered. "I have not taken enough notice of him to form a concrete opinion. The other gentleman seems most agreeable as well," she added, feeling obliged, in some way, to not leave him out of the mothers' discussion.
"Oh, yes, yes," Mrs. Bennett said vaguely, waving her hand. "He seems admirable enough, I suppose. He certainly did not contribute much to the conversation. Maybe he has no taste for country society," she said condemningly.
"Or perhaps he is just uncomfortable with those he is not better acquainted with," Maria offered. Mrs. Bennett harrumphed her agreement as the object of their discussion approached, accompanied by Mr. Bingley.
"Mrs. Lucas, Mrs. Bennett, Miss Maria, might I present to you Joseph Shipman? He has been my good friend for many years." Polite introductions were made, and Maria couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be a glimmer of amusement behind Mr. Shipman's eyes as he cheerfully underwent an interrogation by her mother and Mrs. Bennett. Mr. Bingley, agreeable as ever, made excuses for his other friend. "Townsend is completely immersed in your daughter's playing, I daresay, Mrs. Bennett! He shall not be drawn away!"
Mrs. Bennett preened at this. "Well, my Mary has always had a remarkable talent for music, Mr. Bingley…"
Maria stopped listening as Mr. Shipman took a seat beside her. "I hope you don't mind," he said. "But would you be so kind as to help me with everyone in attendance, Miss Maria? I've had many introductions so far, but I'm horrible with names." He smiled at her, a crooked smile that made her think he was up to some mischief.
"Of course, sir." She said, feeling at ease with the friendly young gentleman. "That couple standing over there? That's Mr. Darcy, I assume you know him already." When he nodded, she went on. "That's his wife, Elizabeth. Everyone was very surprised when they got married, for they seemed to despise each other. But I've never seen a more happily married couple, have you?" she looked at him. "No," he said seriously. "They seem perfectly content. And you also have a married sister?"
"Oh, yes. Charlotte is over there, by the window. That's her husband Mr. Collins. He's the vicar at Rosings Park. He considers the opinion of Lady Catherine DeBourgh very vital, indeed. Her approval is sought above all else." She realized what she was saying and tried to correct it. "That is to say, I don't think badly of Mr. Collins, he is a very well-intentioned man, I suppose—" He laughed and held up a hand. "No explanations necessary, madam, I have already had the pleasure of an illustrious conversation with Mr. Collins, and I wholeheartedly agree with your observations."
She laughed too, and went on to name everyone in the room for him: Jane he already knew, Mary was playing the piano, Kitty was sitting with Elizabeth now, and her father was talking with Mr. Bennett. She pointed out various other neighbors, including the nefarious Mrs. Michaels and her daughters. Sadly, Mr. Shipman came to the conclusion that Maria shared with her mother: they were quite vulgar indeed.
Later that night, she thought back on the evening. It wasn't so terrible, she thought. Mr. Shipman turned out to be quite jolly. I'm certainly glad Mama doesn't seem to have any inclination toward him, or that would make things decidedly uncomfortable. Yes, she decided, it was going to be quite diverting to have a new friend around, other than Kitty. Mr. Shipman seemed to enjoy my company. Silly, indeed.
The next morning at breakfast her father announced that he had arranged a hunting party for Mr. Bingley and his guests. Mr. Lucas was took great pride in his extensive grounds, and lost no opportunity to show them off. Maria secretly hoped that her father would not embarrass himself in the company of his esteemed guests. He had a tendency to be a little, well, overly boisterous when he was endeavoring to impress important people.
A few hours later, she came down to enjoy a few moments peace in the library with some Shakespeare. She had always had a fondness for Shakespeare. She entered from the side door, which was not the way most people entered, but she liked it: it was nearest to her favorite couch. As she walked toward it, humming a little (for she was in a bright mood that morning), she gasped when a dark curly head poked up over the back of the couch.
"What on earth—Mr. Shipman!" Maria cried, for it was indeed, Mr. Shipman, who was blinking at her in a most surprised manner.
"Miss Lucas! I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, I'll leave at once." He rose and tugged his coat, which had been sort of rumpled, back into order.
"No, you didn't disturb me, I just thought… weren't you out hunting with my father?" He smiled in a way that made Maria think he had some sort of private joke with himself. "My dear, haven't you noticed it's been raining heavily for a good hour and a half?"
Of course she hadn't. "Why I—no, I hadn't. Where have the other gentlemen gone to then?"
He gave a small sort of grimace. "Congratulating each other on being kings of the world in your father's study, I imagine." Then he looked at her, eyes wide, as if he had just noticed exactly to whom he had been speaking. "Pardon me, I—I mean, they've gone to have some port and talk politics, but I was up very late last night dealing with some urgent, ah, business, so I begged permission to rest here awhile. You don't mind, do you?"
Maria smiled. "No, of course not. It's not my library. Don't let me disturb your rest, I just came to get a book."
"Ah. Which?"
"Pardon me?"
"Which book were you getting?" he leaned back against the bookshelf, looking completely at ease. Maria suddenly felt decidedly uncomfortable.
"Ah… Shakespeare. I hadn't decided specifically yet."
"Always a commendable choice. Poetry or prose?"
"Actually, I'm in quite a Macbeth mood, I've decided," Maria said airily, deciding to not let this charming young man let her feel awkward.
"Macbeth?" he asked, smiling a little.
"Yes. Are you surprised?" she said, pretending to be offended. He grinned, playing along. "Quite. It's not often I meet young girls who would rather read about murder plots and battlefields than marriage and balconies. You wouldn't prefer Romeo and Juliet? I'm sure your father has an excellent copy…"
"He does, to be sure. And I enjoyed both. Is that so strange? Maybe you have not met many young women, sir." She said, eyes twinkling.
He looked at her strangely. "Indeed," he said. Then, frowning a little, he turned around and stared up at the shelves.
"I didn't mean to offend you, sir, I was being… silly." she said carefully. Oh, how she loathed that word, but she was more worried about upsetting Mr. Shipman to care overmuch.
He turned around, the lopsided grin in full evidence. "Oh, not at all," he replied. "You are quite right. Of the few young women I have had acquaintance with, most did not share your affection for reading. I think you are quite refreshing." He continued to look at her strangely, which made her cheeks burn with embarrassment but also feel strangely flattered.
"Thank you, I suppose," she said, and looked away from his gaze.
He started to laugh. "I've embarrassed you, I'm terribly sorry." Maria looked at him skeptically.
"You don't look it," she said smartly, hoping to exact a little revenge for her burning cheeks. But this only seemed to amuse him further.
"My dear Miss Lucas, I find you exceedingly diverting. Will you do me the honor of walking around the grounds with me after it dries a little?" Maria glanced at the window. Yes, it had stopped raining; the sun was shining most determinedly.
"I—thank you, Mr. Shipman, that would be very nice." She didn't know what else to say. She always seemed to end up acting most improper around him, as if they had been good friends for many years, instead of brand new acquaintances.
"Splendid. How does tomorrow sound? I'm afraid I have some business in town tonight that requires my attention."
"That sounds very well, sir, thank you." Maria replied.
"Not at all, Miss Lucas. I'll see you then." With that, he bowed and casually left the room. Maria suddenly felt like she was getting herself into something strange.
Oh well, she thought. At least there will be less of a chance of getting stuck with Mr. Collins. Odious man.
A few minutes later, she walked upstairs with a beautiful red leather copy of Macbeth in her hand. Before she could enter the solitude of her own bedchamber, however, she was accosted by her sister, Charlotte.
"Maria, where have you been? Mama said you were locked up in your room. I've been waiting for over a quarter hour." Charlotte did not look upset. Charlotte never let anything ruffle her feathers.
"I was in the library," Maria said, holding up the book as proof.
"Why were you…?"Charlotte trailed off. "No matter. I meant to discuss a matter with you. Now that you are seventeen, you must realize that Mama and Papa are looking toward you marrying soon." She paused for Maria's response. When there was none, she soldiered on. "They will expect you to act in a manner that would commend a lady. You should also look the part. Mama wishes me to take you into town tomorrow to get a few new gowns. She says she has noticed you looking decidedly dowdy of late."
Maria tried not to be offended. "Why does Mama not take me, if she is so concerned?"
Charlotte pursed her lips. "Mama does not care much for town, you know that. Besides, it would bring me great pleasure to spend the day with you. We have not had much time together since I was married."
Maria sensed a sort of resigned sadness in Charlotte. While she knew Charlotte had never been a romantic sort, in fact she had almost been mercenary in regard to her future; Maria could not help but wonder if she was very unhappy with Mr. Collins. Did Charlotte regret her decision? It would be most improper to ask, even among sisters, and she and Charlotte had never been close.
"That sounds lovely, Charlotte. I have grown very weary of my sad wardrobe. And with the Bingleys in town, there is sure to be a crush of parties soon." The thought of several new gowns was exciting. She hoped there would be a green one. She had always loved green.
Walking down the streets of Brighton with Charlotte the next morning, Maria decided that she regretted never getting to know her sister very well. They chatted amiably as they went from shop to shop, and Maria was having a very nice time.
"What did you think of Mr. Bingley's friends?" Charlotte asked when they were discussing the dinner party.
"They both seemed very nice," Maria said, looking in the window of the milliner's shop.
"Yes," Charlotte replied. "That Mr. Townsend was very handsome, don't you agree?"
"Yes, I suppose he was. Mr. Shipman was very nice looking as well," Maria said, defending her new friend.
"Ah, yes, he was. Very quiet, don't you think? Although you have always preferred tall, dark, and mysterious over blond and charming."
Maria blushed. "Whatever do you mean, Charlotte? I never said I preferred Mr. Shipman." She did, of course.
"Nothing, my dear, don't take offense. I was only remarking on the fact that you two seemed to be on good terms after dinner."
And she didn't even know about the library. "He is very amiable. I did like him very much. I did not talk to Mr. Townsend, however, so I cannot truly say I prefer one over the other. This is all very silly anyway. They are friends of Mr. Bingley; they aren't here to court me! You and Mama shouldn't make such a fuss."
"I think you underestimate your charms, my dear sister," Charlotte said knowingly. "I think Mr. Shipman was quite taken with you."
Maria just snorted, thinking it far too ridiculous for reply.