Mary met so many people that evening. She met all of the Penfold family, whom she was introduced to by Mr Newlands, and found them pleasant enough, in general. Sir Geoffrey Penfold, the dream character of Mama's youth, was very friendly, conversable and cordial, and, of course, wildly handsome for a man of his age. His wife, Lady Penfold, was charming. She had kept many of her youthful features, and was a pleasant woman, if a little airy-fairy.

"May I introduce my aunt and uncle to you?" Mr Newlands had asked Mary. Her answer was obvious, and he proceeded to make her known to Sir and Lady Penfold at once. They had talked amicably on neutral subjects for several minutes until Mr Newlands saw fit to introduce her to his six cousins.

Miss Anthea and Miss Belinda Penfold were the two youngest of the Penfold's five children, and were standing by the fire looking on the rest of the room a little nervously.

"Cousins!" said Mr Newlands, striding across the floor to them. "May I introduce Miss Mary Bennet to you? These are my two cousins Miss Anthea Penfold and Miss Belinda Penfold."

They all curtsied and smiled at each other.

The two Penfold girls were the most happy-natured people Mary had ever met, barring perhaps her sister Jane. They smiled and joked all the time. The younger, Belinda, was louder and more vivacious than her elder sister, but Miss Anthea Penfold had more dry humour and was more dignified, in a way, although she certainly was very easygoing also. Mary enjoyed their society very much, and longed to introduce them to Annabel; she was sure the four would be good friends.

And then she was introduced to the famous Miss d'Arbre. Mary liked her quite a lot. Estelle d'Arbre was completely different to her cousins; quiet, poised, a little shy, serious. She spoke with sense and had some sort of innate calm that attracted certain people immediately, and did not fail to attract Mary. The one fault of Miss d'Arbre's that stood out above the rest was the coldness that Mary could detect in her eyes. She was not without compassion, but Estelle d'Arbre seemed to have no strong emotions. She was without passion of any kind. It made Mary a little uneasy. When Mr Newlands was looking for her to introduce her to Mary, Miss d'Arbre had been standing in the shadow of a curtain by herself, and had done so for the whole previous part of the evening. Mary thought she could see a flicker of relief in the girl's face when her cousin, Mr Newlands, led Mary towards her.

Sir Penfold's three sons wandered over while she was talking to Miss d'Arbre. They were handsome, though they paled in comparison to Mr Newlands, and all three of them very much like their father in mannerisms and personality. Mary was amused at the way the three brothers all agreed with each other, spoke the same way, ("I say, old chap, jolly good thing, wot?"), laughed the same way, (uproarious bellowing, slapping their thighs and each other's shoulders), and smiled the same way (an excessively good-natured beam which dimpled up their entire face). They were a cosmos apart from Mr Newlands, but the brothers and their cousin got on very well, like best friends, although Mr Newlands only smiled in an amused, superior way at his cousins' antics whenever they cracked an obscure and supposedly hilarious joke.

Mary met up with Kitty at some point, and they sat down on a handy sofa in the depths of the assembly room, glad to have a respite from socialising for a few minutes. Kitty was flushed and excited. Despite the fact that Kitty had changed after Lydia's removal from Longbourn, she still loved to be singled out and danced with, and to dance the first with Mr Hildesly gave her much satisfaction. She had danced the next with Jasper Nesbit, (she confided in Mary that she found him rather dull, although doubtless very worthwhile), and then Mr Hildesly had asked her to dance a second time! She was thrilled that he had so obviously chosen her out.

"Oh Mary!" she enthused. "He is exactly what a gentleman should be!"

Mary smiled wryly as she remembered overhearing almost exactly the same words on the tongue of her sister Jane. It pleased her that Kitty was turning out to have many of the same qualities as her gentle eldest sister. "Yes," she said calmly, "he is a very agreeable young man."

"Oh, Mary, how can you say such a thing!" scolded Kitty. "You know very well he is vastly agreeable, to say the very least! What are you smiling for now?"

Mary gave her an expressive, raised-eyebrow smile. And there was something a lot like Lizzy! she thought. "Nothing whatsoever!"

Kitty mock-punched her. "You are a rascal, Mary!"

Mr Alcott looked on from the side, a slight grin on his face. The two sisters presented a charming picture, laughing and play-fighting before hugging each other affectionately. He decided to try his luck while she couldn't possibly plead an indisposition, not after that display!

"Miss Bennet?"

Mary looked up, an engaging sparkle still in her eye. "Oh! Mr Alcott!" He stood in front of her, and she couldn't help but think his appearance the epitome of any girl's dreams of a handsome, rugged giant.

"Are you still disinclined to dance, or may I have permission to pursue the matter of you dancing the next with me?" His eyes betrayed the grave tone he used, twinkling wickedly.

"Oh... why, yes, you may certainly ask me to dance with you," replied Mary, smiling.

"Would you do me the great honour of condescending to dance the next with me, madam?" asked Mr Alcott, making a sweeping bow.

"I should be delighted, sir," replied Mary, blushing but beaming.

"I am honoured, Miss Bennet," he answered gallantly. "And will you introduce me to your friend?"

"Of course. Kitty, this is Mr Alcott. Mr Alcott, this is my sister Miss Catherine Bennet."

He bowed again. Kitty smiled shyly, a little blown away by the weathered, handsome man before her. Mary found herself hoping that Mr Alcott would not be like Mr Hildesly in transferring his attentions to her younger sister - not that she grudged Kitty Mr Hildesly - no, not a jot! But did she grudge Kitty Mr Alcott? She felt a wave of fear. She didn't like him too much too soon, did she? From the moment he had shown himself to be respectful and kind, she had recognised him as the embodiment of a dream. But were dreams a sensible thing to embody? Mary knew she had to be careful.

As the previous dance finished, Mr Alcott took Mary's arm and led her onto the floor. His hand sent little shivers up her arm. "You aren't cold?" he asked. "You're trembling."

"Oh no!" she assured him. "I'm fine. However, I must warn you, I cannot dance at all well."

"Finally, a young woman like me!" he exclaimed. "I do enjoy dancing though; not because of the perceptible action, but for the society it provides."

She smiled. "Was that a compliment, sir?" she asked naively.

"Yes," he said, and hesitantly, "I only dance if it is with someone I - I actually - admire, so that I may be sure to have a pleasurable time."

Mary's consternation was obvious. "Oh..." she murmured.

The dance began, and she was able to move away from being in close proximity to him for a moment. The next time they joined together in the dance, she had recovered, and he spoke again. "I hear that the woman who married my friend Darcy is your sister?"

"Yes, Lizzy married Mr Darcy about a twelvemonth ago. Do you know Mr Darcy very well?" she replied.

"No, not well, but I know his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam very well."

"You have a wide acquaintance, Mr Alcott," commented Mary, "or so it seems." She had her eyes fixed on his waistcoat buttons, too bashful to look up into his eyes.

"Yes, a tolerable one," he replied. "I would dearly wish for you to be added to my acquaintance, Miss Bennet, but I fear my waistcoat will beat me to it." He smiled as she looked up at him, grinning despite herself. "It is a nice waistcoat, isn't it?" he added, pretending to be anxious, and she laughed out loud.

'He looks so well when he smiles!' she thought, 'And he is so strong! His chest is so broad!' She had a sudden and desperate desire to lay her head on his chest, but with a blush and a quick shake of the head, she shook these discomforting thoughts out of her mind.

They did not talk for a little while, as the dance required them to part often, and they were both not experienced enough dancers to attend to both conversation, and dance steps.

Finally, the dance finished, and Mary was relieved. She had improved somewhat in dancing, but she had discovered extremely recently that all her new skills threatened to fly away when in the vicinity of Mr Alcott. He did not leave her, but led her to a sofa in the far recesses of the room. "And now we shall have some proper conversation!" he decided. "What think you?"

Mary held back a grin. "The discussion of the recent war holds much merit," she suggested blandly. "Unfortunately the weather in Hertfordshire is so settled of late that we cannot really discuss it. Have you any subjects to offer, sir?"

"Miss Bennet," he warned, "you know I was not talking of those types of topics! Here is a subject I would wish to discuss - tell me about your family and I shall tell you of mine."

Mary was surprised. She had never expected him to be even vaguely interested in any family of hers. "Oh! Well, my family, Mr Alcott! I have four sisters, as you probably already know - Jane is the eldest, then Elizabeth, then myself. Kitty comes next and the youngest is Lydia. Well, Jane is always the most beautiful of the family, and very sweet tempered, and so good. She always has a good thing to say of everyone, and is much loved wherever she goes. I must say that she is not at all priggish, for many people would think, from this description, that she is a bore, but she is most decidedly not one. I have nothing but good to say of her. She is married to Mr Charles Bingley, who used to rent Netherfield. Are you at all acquainted with him? No? He is a very good friend of Mr Darcy's, and Mr Darcy stayed there with him when they first came to Hertfordshire."

"So the men at Netherfield both married Bennets?" asked Mr Alcott, a strangely arrested expression on his face, and a slight smile on his lips.

"Yes..." said Mary, not quite liking the way the conversation was going. "Shall I tell you of Lizzy? She is a year older than me."

"Yes, by all means," said Mr Alcott, resolved to embarrass her no longer.

"Lizzy is the cleverest of us Bennets, I should think," began Mary. "She is beautiful also, but in a different way from Jane; she is dark and interesting, while Jane is fair and angelic. She is very witty, intelligent, and independent. She was my father's favourite, I think. She married Mr Darcy the same time as Jane married Bingley."

"And now you must describe yourself!" said Mr Alcott.

"Well, I can hardly do that!" protested Mary, laughing.

"Shall I?" he asked. "Here I go! Miss Mary Bennet is a young woman who, on first appearances, is very normal, although perhaps a little prettier than the average girl. But as you get to know her, you find that she is intelligent, modest, skilled, witty, interesting, enjoyable to be with, amusing, oh, and lovely! Her beauty grows on you too, until you are sure that you have never seen the like. She is-"

"Enough, sir!" interrupted Mary, her cheeks red. "Don't embarrass me so! You know you are heavily exaggerating!"

She was stunned when he took her hands and looked into her eyes seriously. "That I am not."

It took all of her self-control to look away. "I think I should tell you of Kitty now," she said quietly. It would have been funny under different circumstances.

"Maybe you should," he said, realising that he had hardly spent three hours in the company of the girl, and he had almost declared himself, before he had even thought, discernably, that he liked her as much as his instincts told him.

Now she faltered. It was hard to act as if nothing had happened. "Kitty is... a very agreeable girl," she began lamely, "although my father used to think her very silly. She has changed a lot, and it is now very enjoyable to spend time with her... and my youngest sister Lydia is married, to a man called George Wickham, who I am afraid is not the best of men. Lydia herself... well, she always was a silly, unthinking thing, and I fear she will not change. It is probably for the best that she does not live with us anymore, for her influence on Kitty was great. There, will that do?"

"Thank you for telling me of your family," said Mr Alcott gently. "I fear that I will not be able to tell you of mine tonight, for it seems that my party is leaving for Netherfield early, for some reason. May I - may I call on you soon to tell you of them?"

"Of course, sir," said Mary, smiling up at him a little nervously.

"Thank you for dancing and talking with me this evening, Miss Bennet," he said. "I have enjoyed myself immensely."

"As have I," she said quietly as he bowed before walking away. She sank down on the sofa and tried to gather her thoughts. What had just happened? Had she become scared, because someone had professed to admire her? She chuckled a little as she realised again how silly this situation would have seemed a little while ago.

Mrs Bennet was very satisfied with the evening, as was to be expected. "Oh! My dear Mr Bennet, it went off so well! I am sure I shall be lifelong friends with some of those dear new ladies! And the girls! Oh, Mr Bennet, they were so admired! Kitty dazzled so many of the young men, and, would you believe, danced twice with Mr Hildesly!! And with Mr Nesbit and Mr Guildford and even the young Viscount, my dear! And Mary - my dear Mr Bennet! Mary has quite impressed that Mr Alcott! He sat and talked with her for quite some time, and even danced with her, which I hear is quite unheard of for him to do! And Mr Newlands danced with her too, and Mr Guildford-"

"Mr Alcott, Mary?" frowned Mr Bennet. "Do you not find him as disagreeable as I do?"

"Father... he is not really like that," whispered Mary, a little embarrassed by her mother's boasting on her behalf.

"Really? Well," said Mr Bennet, raising his eyebrows. "Time will reveal all."

Mary could not sleep that night. Every few minutes she gave herself a shake, telling herself how ridiculous she was - why, she had only been in his company several hours, at the very maximum! - but the image of Mr Alcott holding her hand and looking into her eyes did come, and stayed, whatever she told herself. Finally, she dropped into a restless doze, dreaming things she felt she should not.

Miss Emma Nesbit was stunned to find Mr Alcott so angry because she and Mrs Milne had both got headaches, therefore obliging the party to leave. Never before had he apparently enjoyed what he might call an insipid little country party. She concluded it must be something else. Miss Nesbit proceeded to inquire warily what was the matter. "Mr Alcott, you are not yourself this evening... is everything all right?"

"I am quite all right!" he snapped, turning his head away from his friends to stare moodily out into the dark night.

"I am sorry if you were disappointed to be dragged away from the assembly..." she continued.

"It's nothing whatsoever to do with that," he muttered. "Don't trouble yourself, Emma."

She looked worriedly at him. Mr Nesbit just grimaced at her, motioning not to talk to him until he was somewhat more sociable.

"I saw that, Jasper," Mr Alcott growled. "I wouldn't, if I were you. I would like Emma to talk to me."

"Uh... what should I talk to you of?" asked Miss Nesbit.

"Did you meet Miss Mary Bennet?" he asked abruptly.

"Why, yes I did," she said. "Richard here introduced me to Miss Bennet and her sister."

"Did you like her?"

"Very much," replied Emma calmly. She was used to Mr Alcott's interrogations.

"Did you think her pretty?"

"Yes."

"In what way did you think her pretty?"

"Ummm... I thought she had rather pretty eyes?" replied Miss Nesbit, a little confused.

"Yes, yes," he mused. "And what of her lips?"

"Well-formed, sir."

"And what was your overall impression of her?"

"I thought her very pretty, Alcott."

"That is not an answer!" he snapped. "Use a different word from pretty."

"I thought her very attractive?" she said. "Dignified, graceful, sweet?"

"Yes, yes," he said again. "That she is. Thank you, Emma."

With this he turned to the window again, and pointedly ignored any more attempts at conversation for the rest of the ride back to Netherfield. As soon as the carriage stopped, he was off, and into the house, heading straight for his bedchamber without a word to anyone.

RESPONSE TO CRITIQUES…

Thank you very much for the helpful critiques, as always! Here's individual responses:

- Jack Robinson – thanks for the comments. You always give such helpful but nice critiques!! warm fuzzies I definitely agree about the number of characters being ridiculous. There's more introduced in this chapter as well! I just don't like this story very much and I can't be bothered changing it like I should! And the whole Mr Newlands thing is just silly because I had no plans for him whatsoever in the rest of the story, but I think your suggestion of a scandal or whatever is a very good idea and maybe I'll change the story! So thanks for that!

- Kat – thank you very much; likewise with Jack's idea, a love triangle's a great idea! grins Some of my stories would be so bad if I didn't get ideas from the critics!

- non-damsel – Yes, Kitty is a much more promising character, I agree, and I have actually written a fanfic on her, simply called Kitty, which I quite like personally, if I do say so myself; it is on here somewhere. So have a look if you want! Sorry about the blatant advertising, but I'd much rather people read that fanfic than this one!

- June W – Sorry about the not-so-speedy updates. I've had an incredibly busy year. Hopefully next year will be a lot less busy, and I've just started the summer holidays, so look out for more! However, it's not so much that I haven't written the chapters (I've actually finished the story), it's that I don't like putting some of it up.