Mr Alcott stood at the door of the room quietly, smiling, watching Mary play the piano. She was lost in the flowing sonata, and the effect was something magical. After a while she finished the piece, gave a sigh, and sat at the stool for a few moments.
"Good morning, Miss Bennet."
She snapped out of her reverie. "Oh! Mr Alcott!" She quickly stood up and curtsied. "I did not expect to see you..." She looked down at the floor as she realised that - a) she had been counting down until she could reasonably expect to see him, and b) she was all alone with him.
He smiled. "May I sit down?"
"Of course," she said mechanically.
"I hope you are none the worse for your dancing last night?" he enquired, a slight smile on his face. "You did feel indisposed at one point."
She couldn't help but smile. "You, sir, are very rude!"
He grinned, his steely eyes becoming soft, and crinkling at the edges.
She continued. "But sir! You have called to fulfil your promise of telling me of your family."
"That I did," he agreed, "so I shall. My parents were Mr and Mrs Charles Alcott, but when I was young, my mother died and my father remarried later. I have two elder sisters named Elizabeth and Carmen, and my stepmother, who is now dead, bore my father a daughter, Margaret."
"So you are the only son?"
"Yes," he said. "My father's estate in Devon is entailed onto me. I should tell you, Miss Bennet, I have been married once before. My wife, Catherine, died several years ago, and I have a small daughter called Bianca. She is at this moment staying with my sister Elizabeth, but she will join me in Netherfield very soon."
"Oh, lovely!" said Mary. "How old is the little girl?"
"Nearly four," he said. "She was born only two weeks before my wife's death, and so she has never known a mother. It is something of concern to me." He paused, not looking at her, then continued quickly. "I shall tell you of my family. My eldest sister is married to a Lord Granger, with two sons. Elizabeth is, I feel, a very domineering sort of person, too interested in everybody else's business, I should say. But she is very loyal and dependable, and looks after my daughter often, and is, therefore, a very good sister. My sister Carmen is a widow, with one daughter, Joline. Carmen is excessively good-natured and kind. She always has a kind word for everyone. Carmen and I are probably very different, but we are very close, as she is close in age to myself. She often lives in my house in town, and I can't say enough good about her."
"She sounds a lot like my sister Jane," commented Mary.
"Yes, they do sound similar," said Mr Alcott thoughtfully. "That thought struck me when you were telling me of Mrs Bingley. And my younger sister Margaret! She is quite a lot younger than me; I think we are about thirteen years apart. I believe she is about the same age as yourself, or a little younger. Margaret is a very outgoing person, who can sometimes disgust me with her extravagance and cheekiness, but she has many admirable qualities hidden underneath, I suppose. There! That is my family! What shall we talk of now?"
But their conversation was not to be. Kitty ran into the room. "Mary! You must - oh! Mr Alcott! Please excuse me, but Mary! You must go to Father now, he has just received some dreadful news!"
"What, Kitty?" asked Mary, confused.
"Charlotte Collins took ill suddenly, and she has died!" cried Kitty.
Mary jumped up. "Truly?" She was shocked.
"Yes, it's true! Come now!" Kitty ran out the door.
"Excuse me, Mr Alcott, but I must leave you," said Mary hurriedly.
"Of course, Miss Bennet. I am very sorry. I shall leave."
Mary didn't stay to watch him leave, but ran out the door to her father's library, tears of shock already obscuring her vision.
He stood to watch her go, a slight frown on his face. What was happening to him? She was overcoming all his barriers, knocking down all his barricades... and all in a few days! Ever since Catherine's death, any female he met was pushed away - love had hurt him, and he did not want to ever be hurt again. But here was this Miss Bennet... her shy smiles, her clear eyes, her gentle remarks... they were travelling straight to his heart, it had been love, if not at first sight, then very soon after, and all of a sudden he didn't mind being hurt as long as she was in a position to hurt him. He decided to take a trip home for a week or so. He should tell his father what he was planning to do.
Another thought struck him as he left the house. What if she wasn't the one? What if this was just a silly whim that he would soon learn to see as a terrible mistake? His heart insisted against the notion, but his mind whispered warnings. Don't take it too soon, get time to know her, don't make an awful mistake, you've got all the time in the world, after all, she may not feel the same way about yourself, give her time.
So he strode home; determined not to even think of declaring himself for at least several weeks.
The funeral was to be held in Meryton, as that was where Charlotte had been brought up. Mr Collins travelled from Kent and arrived to stay at Lucas Lodge two days before the funeral. The death of his wife made him even more grovelling and obsequious than usual, and he came to visit his cousins at Longbourn gloomily attired in utter black from head to toe. Mary was obliged to entertain him for half an hour, and wondered how she could ever have admired the pompous man. She was shocked when she realised that he meant to transfer his affections to her, as he had done with Elizabeth all that time before, and quickly found something to do which justified calling Mr Bennet from his library to look after their cousin.
Elizabeth and Mr Darcy travelled from Derbyshire for the funeral. Charlotte and Lizzy had been very good friends, and Lizzy was devastated at the loss. Jane and Bingley had wanted to come, but were unable to do so, because Jane was at a very advanced stage of her pregnancy.
The funeral was a particularly depressing one, with Lady Lucas' grief obvious to everyone as she wept for the second child she had lost in two months. The whole family's eyes were red and miserable, and even Mrs Bennet was moved to tears. (She had never liked Charlotte, as she had married the man that had first proposed to her daughter, Lizzy.)
However, Mrs Bennet recovered tolerably, enough to tell Mary to be as agreeable as she possibly could be to Mr Collins. By no means had she given up on having a daughter married to the man who would eventually inherit Longbourn. She encouraged Mr Collins daily, and Mary spent all her time trying to avoid him. She was very happy when it was finally time for him to return to his parish in Kent.
Mary, Annabel, Lady Selina Grayling, Anthea Penfold and Belinda Penfold had become very good friends. Mary felt awful about it sometimes, because Kitty had not really been that enthusiastic about them, and Mary could tell that she was a little jealous. However, she had made friends with Helena Guildford and Lady Valerie Grayling, and was still friends with Maria Lucas, and didn't seem to be too worried about Mary's friendship with the other girls. Elizabeth and Jane's wonderful relationship as sisters was one that had been formed over many years, and was very unique. Kitty and Mary had really only been friends for a few months, and still they had many differences, which annoyed them sometimes. So it was sometimes quite good not to be together all the time.
Mary had introduced Annabel to the two Penfold sisters at the ball, and the four had hit it off at once. Mary was so happy to find girls that she got along with so well, and had such a lot to talk about to. After the four girls had become acquainted, Selina had been introduced to them, and she had just enchanted them all straightaway, with her vivacity and charm. Lady Selina Grayling was a very desirable friend to have, in Mrs Bennet's eyes, only because she was the daughter of an earl, but in the eyes of Mary, she was one of the best friends a girl could ever find. It soon turned out that Selina and Mary got closer and closer until they had a relationship similar to what Jane and Elizabeth's had been. They told each other everything - Mary even told Selina her confusing feelings for Mr Alcott, and Selina told her that Mr Newlands had dazzled her outright, and she wasn't sure if she should be dazzled, and she hoped it wasn't just his good looks. Selina was around at Longbourn so often that Mr Bennet dryly offered her a bed, and to Mrs Bennet's matchmaking satisfaction, Mary was around at Ashworth so often that she was thrown into the path of the handsome, eligible Viscount a lot - Mary would never tell her mother this, for fear of repeated and prolonged torture by shrieks, but she did not like him very much. Mary liked the younger brother, Marlon, better. He was, as her father had said, excitable and adventurous, but he was so much more alive than the Viscount, who always seemed a little sleepy. The eldest, Lady Ada, did not gain Mary's good opinion either, just like she had not gained Mr Bennet's, but Lady Valerie was very likeable, although slightly immature. The old earl had tried to scare Mary at first, she suspected, but she had too sound a heart for that, and after he found he could not succeed, he showed himself to be very interesting and very good at story-telling. Mary liked Countess Grayling too. She was very young, but very forthright and dependable and strong.
The five friends went out on a picnic one sunny day. They each carried a basket or a blanket, and climbed Sycamore Hill. It was a lovely picnic; each girl's family cook had provided enough for the whole group, so they had nearly five times as much as they needed. They lay around on the grass under parasols, gossiping as well as discussing very serious things, or so they seemed to them.
"Girls," said Annabel solemnly. "I have something to tell you." She looked very grim, and her friends were worried.
"What is it, Annabel? Are you allright? What is it?"
She looked up to the sky, a serious look on her face. Then she burst out laughing, not being able to hold it in anymore. "I.. I think I must tell you that I like your brother very much, Anthea and Belinda!"
They laughed too. "Which one? You must be joking!"
"Not at all! It's James, if you must know... we... ahh.. I'm not quite sure how to say this..." broke off Annabel.
"You have an … understanding?" filled in Mary for her.
Annabel gave a red-cheeked smile. She shrugged. "Well - yes!"
The girls all started to laugh and tease Annabel, especially the Penfold sisters, and Mary lay back on the grass, her heart full. It was so lovely to be outside on a day like this, with people she liked very much, just talking and talking and learning to be a friend. She was amazed how different, how full, how delightful her life could be, once she had changed. Now she was left wanting only one thing...
"Mary," whispered Selina sometime later. The three other girls were dozing in the warm sun.
"Mmmhmmm..."
"I must have a word with you," Selina said urgently.
Mary sat up and yawned. "All right."
"Can we come away from here? I don't want the others to hear," she murmured.
Mary got up and followed her friend. They sat down by a hawthorn hedge. "What is it?" she asked, still rubbing her eyes.
"Mary," said Selina, still whispering, "I have heard some news about Mr Alcott."
"Mr Alcott?" asked Mary, waking up suddenly. "What is it?"
"I believe his father has died, and he has been obliged to go to Devonshire to sort out the will and everything!"
"Really?" asked Mary, shocked. "Oh, the poor man! I know he loved his father dearly."
"And that is not all!" whispered Selina. "The family is in a lot of grief at the moment, for his younger sister, Miss Margaret Alcott, eloped just before his death, and it is supposed that the news of her elopement brought on his heart attack! So, they are all in a quandary over what to do - accept the new Mrs Taylor home, due to the circumstances, and say no more about it, or refuse to see her again, because of the imprudent nature of her marriage, and the fact that it probably brought on Mr Alcott's death - you see, Miss Alcott married well below her station."
"Oh my!" cried Mary. "That is terrible, Selina!" She paused. "Do you think he will stay away for long?" she finished quietly.
Selina sighed. "I don't know. I was talking to Miss Nesbit yesterday, who told me of what happened, and she said that he sent word saying that he expected to be away for some time, sorting out the family affairs and staying with his sister during the mourning period."
"Oh," Mary said quietly.
"He mentioned you," said Selina, smiling a little.
"What?"
"In his letter to Mr Nesbit explaining his plans, he wrote - 'Mention me to all my friends - Miss Bennet, Mr Newlands, and so on'."
"Really?" said Mary, smiling shyly. But then she frowned. "I do not want to be his 'friend', Selina."
Selina laughed. "You could hardly expect him to say, 'mention me to my beloved,' could you?"
Mary laughed too. "No, I suppose not."
"Now!" said Selina imperiously, changing the subject. "What have you decided to wear to the next ball? I think we should go wearing matching clown suits. Mr Alcott is in Devon, and Mr Newlands in London for a week, so we have nobody to impress. Let us, do!"