AN: So I have had spare time to do as I please as of late, and I have entered a craze where I have continued this story nonstop. So, yes… another post… one each day these past few days. Unfortunately, I cannot update tomorrow since I shall be out the entirety of the day, but I do think that my dedication to updating at such a rapid pace should be rewarded, at least, with what you have thought of the progress of this story so far. Thank you again to my reviewers. This time or next, I shall provide you with much kudos for your efforts and kindness. This task is far more easier with lovely fans there.

5

"Miss Bennet?" the servant at the entrance of the ball looked at the list within his hand and back up at her. "You are not on the list."

"I have been residing at Chamberlain hall for almost a sennight," Mary told the servant. "This ball might not have occurred at all, had I not been here."

"Oh, you are that lady…" the servant responded. "I do apologize, Miss, but my master has ordered that you are no longer welcome within his household."

"I do not care to spent more than a minute here, I can assure you." Mary answered, growing peeved. "But I cannot depart until I have gathered my belongings. That is all I ask. You may send up a servant if you would like, but I would like to insure that all of my belongings are packed. Please…"

"Alright, I shall let you pass." The servant stepped out of the way. "But do be quick, for I should not desire that my master find out of your presence within his home."

Within her old room, Mary Bennet cared not if she had abandoned all of her clothes, for she came only for her journal, but she hurriedly assembled all that she owned, lest the servant at the entrance question why she entered, if only to collect a small book.

"Mary?" as she reached to retrieve her last gown within her bag, she looked over her shoulder and saw Edward in the doorway. "Whatever are you doing here?"

"I came to admire the view one last time, can you not see that is what I do bent over in this room?" Mary responded, closing her bag and frowning. "I know not why you ask the most ridiculous questions, Edward, but I am through with it. Perhaps now you may move from where you obstruct my exit so I may leave as we both desire that I do."

"Honestly Mary, there is no need to be rude."

"You are the most infuriating person I have ever had within my acquaintance!" Mary declared when she heard his remark."Whatever possesses you to say such a thing to me? Do not chastise on the proper behavior in regards to interacting with others, when you are so inept of maintaining a respectable behavior when fraternizing with another."

"You cannot blame me for this evening's display." Edward answered coolly, though Mary saw he stood stiffly. "When there is a servant out of line, you must do what is necessary. You must think of where I stood in such a position and question whether you might have done anything different from that which I handled the situation."

"Oh, I most certainly can imagine, and I would not have acted like such an asinine, insensitive brute!" Mary snapped back. "If anything must be done in supposing what another might have done in similar circumstances, it if you, Edward Pendleton, who should think of what you might have done differently if in the position of William Cadaver. Would you not have trusted your own brother to keep to his word, and to allow him a bit of joy, when you see him once every half decade or so? And Jonathan Cadaver was true to word, and perhaps if you were not so blinded by your own ignorance, you might have come to discover that there was no scandal that was performed this evening but those injuries that you had undertaken yourself!

"I had left your Mr. Richardson for I hate balls. Yes, Edward, I detest anything relatively similar to balls, and it does provide me much bemusement how you might have not known that for yourself when you can so passionately declare a month ago that you were so in love with me. Of course I know that was nothing but falsehoods, every single word, for you do not know me at all. No, if you knew me in the slightest degree, you would know that above all else, I despise attending events like these. But what I loathe all the more than these inane celebrations of dancing and such are those few people that I find myself in acquaintance with who believe themselves to be so very superior and grandiose than all that surround them that they are incapable of ever causing error.

"You think you are such an immaculate display of a gentleman, Edward Pendleton, but I have not seen an ounce of respectability within your being for quite some time. I do doubt if ever I did see anything at all of a gentlemen within you. William is a faithful, compliant worker and when we first met, he praised your benevolence, but tonight, accumulated with all the events that followed up to this moment, has taught me that William could not be so far from wrong. You are not benevolent, nor do you have a good will. You are so weak, you cannot even stick to your own words that you promise a woman less than a fortnight ago, and yet you have the audacity to mock Jonathan Cadaver's ability to stay true to his word! What kind of person do you think you are, to reprimand others when you are so much of a hypocrite yourself?"

"It does appear as if you have the portrait of myself painted quite clearly," Edward remarked, a wanly pallor back upon his face.

"Indeed, I do." Mary took advantage of Edward's failing health in front of her, and pushed him out of the way. "It does appear as there is nothing left to be said between us, Edward, not that there ever was much to say in regards to you and me. Fare well and enjoy your life with Kitty. I am most certain now that you shall make yourselves perfectly wonderful companions, for you both are as utterly ridiculous as each other. May you soak up one another's glory and superiority until you leave for the grave."

In her last words to Edward Pendleton, Mary Bennet departed with a smile of satisfaction upon her face. The feelings that flowed through her veins of anger now relieved her, for she did feel as if she had provided her brother-in-law with the necessary departing words. Sentiments of freedom that she had experienced when Edward had first marched away into Chamberlain Hall returned, and Mary found herself curtsying to the servant at the entrance with a smile, swinging her bag over her arm and pressing her journal to her chest.

"It does appear as if Mary Bennet has conquered the world!" William laughed as he sat in front of a carriage, with Jonathan holding the reigns. "I did not think that gathering up a few gowns could be so very invigorating for the spirit, but what do I know of ladies?"

"I have spoken to Edward Pendleton," Mary told him as she stepped down the stairs and walked towards the carriage. "And if I may speculate on his current health, I dare say the man shall remain in bed for a month, for inability to think of anything else but what an absolute ass he has been."

"My word, spoken like a true woman!" Jonathan applauded her, and William joined in.

"Might in inquire as to how we have accumulated a horse and carriage during my absence?" William pulled her up between him and his brother. "I was so sure that we would be required to walk back to Hertfordshire."

"Let us just say that one of these guests tonight shall have to share a carriage with a friend," Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck. "I am sure one less carriage means nothing to them all…"

"You do not mean to tell me that you stole another's carriage as I provided Edward Pendleton with the tirade of his life?" Mary looked at their mischievous faces and laughed. "I suppose one more misdeed for the evening can cause no more injury."

"About time she realized it," Jonathan remarked.

"You are such a terrible influence, Jonathan Cadaver." Mary gave the man a swat on his arm. "William, do promise never to follow after you brother."

"It does appear that trouble follows him, wherever he decides to go." William commented, and sunk back into brooding. "I know not how I shall describe to Patricia my current situation. It does appear as if I am in a large predicament."

"Do not worry," Mary comforted. "My papa shall be most willing to hire you, if you so desire, and if that fails for you, Georgiana might convince her brother to hire you. Pemberley is a far more pleasant place than Chamberlain Hall anyways, and provides far more stimulating company."

"My, it all occurred to fast," William laughed at this. "I fear I did not have any time at all to think of how I should best handle the situation."

"Perhaps you should have a try of your own advice?" Mary suggested in a teasing manner. "It does appear as if life has been far more interesting since I have undertaken your words of recommendation. It does appear as if I am a new person, after all."

"You are such a pleasant companion, Mary." William complimented. "I do not think I have ever met another who I have enjoyed so fully to be with. You do make even such an event as my current unemployment seem pleasurable."

"I have never said so many insults in one sitting," Mary giggled. "I am most certain that my outburst at Edward has surely made up for holding my tongue for eighteen years in all this nonsense."

"I do wish I had seen him as you provided him with a fume to reckon with," William shook with laughter. "I do not think he has ever been talked to before in such a manner in his life!"

"I would not doubt it, for he does bask in much vanity and arrogance." Mary remarked. "It does me wonders to come to the realization that he is entirely the most compatible match for Kitty. He is just as absurd as Lydia."

"And who is Lydia?" William inquired.

"The youngest of my sisters," Mary informed. "She resides in New Castle with a Lieutenant… I think him to be that but I am not quite so sure… Wickham. You can imagine the scandal that arose when she eloped. My, if you honestly think of my family, I do doubt if you have ever heard of more scandal. It does make one wonder why mama goes to so much worry of our reputation, when we all do such a fine job of staining it. I do believe there is nothing left that might occur to soil our name."

"Oh, you are not half so bad as you think your family to be." Jonathan chuckled. "You speak to the man who placed his brother in unemployment and who has stolen a carriage less than an hour ago."

"Then it does appear as if I have quite the complementary company surrounding me," Mary noted. "I have never felt more free in my life!"

"Freedom? Is that what you call it?" Jonathan shrugged. "I think of it as being homeless without the slightest idea as to where I shall go next with my life."

"But do you not have a ship to return to, John?" William asked.

"I do, I suppose, being the first mate and all, but I was getting a bit weary of that." Jonathan admitted. "Perhaps I shall look for work in London, or a new ship where I might offer my services."

"Have you run out of women already in East Yorkshire?"

"That too, if you require me to tell the truth."

"My, you are most certainly very open with your promiscuity, Mr. Cadaver."

"Please, John shall suffice." Jonathan flashed Mary a smile. "I am not so important that I deserve to be spoken to so formally. Casualty is the best, for when you speak too eloquently, it does seem to be as if you speak a foreign language."

"Perhaps I shall provide you with some tutelage… Jonathan." Mary told him. "It does appear as if you might be in desperation for some knowledge."

"Really?" he turned to face her. "And what might you know of that I do not?"

"I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect has intended us to forgo their use." Mary grinned. "Galileo Galilei said that. Do you not think it true?"

"My, I did not think I should be getting such a lesson." Jonathan remarked with a laugh. "What else do you have stored within that mind of yours, Miss Mary? It does appear you must have more, if you can quote directly the thoughts of brilliant minds of the past."

"'Tis true I write and tell me by what Rule/I am alone forbid to play the fool/To follow through the Groves a wand'ring Muse/And fain'd Ideas's for my pleasures chuse./Why shou'd it in my Pen be held a fault/Whilst Mira paints her face, to paint a thought?" Mary raised an eyebrow at Jonathan before she continued. "...Each Woman has her weaknesse;mine indeed/Is still to write tho' hopelesse to succeed./Nor to the Men is this so easy found;/Ev'n in most Works with which the Witts abound."

"A bit on the satirical side, do you not think so?"

"It is genius," Mary replied simply. "Anne Finch has a way with words in which women of this time are in desperate need to embrace."

"It does appear such a waste to have such a mind dallying at home," Jonathan observed. "Do tell me you do not intend to spend your days locked up, unable to share your own genius…"

"Genius?" Mary laughed. "Literature is a mere passion of mine. You cannot think me to be of such a brilliant mind as those who I quote, for any person might memorize something. It is those who write or say something that is of worth to memorize who are the true geniuses."

"This man, Pendleton, he is a fool." Jonathan told her. "I do doubt that your sister is half so clever or sharp as you, and she was not so easy for the eyes…"

"Do you not intend to hint that I am a beauty?" Mary shook her head. "No need to jest, Jonathan Cadaver. Eighteen years of life has taught me that much of myself."

"You do underestimate yourself, Miss Mary." Jonathan responded, his tone serious. "Perhaps you are not the beauty that society would wish you to be, but any mind can see the enchantment your appearance plays upon them. Yes, I do believe it those rare beauties that you stumble across, who are singular from what is to be expected of attractiveness, are those who become the true epitomes of the exquisite in the end."

6

"Oh Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet pounded upon the study door. "Do open your door, for I wish to speak with you!"

"Whatever can be left to say, my dear?" Mr. Bennet acquired, not moving from where he sat. "It does appear as if you have said it all."

"How can you tease me so?" Mrs. Bennet cried. "There is much that needs to be discussed. Our daughter… she refuses to depart from her room, and she does not wish to speak of her visit to Chamberlain Hall. How can she be so cruel to her poor mama, to leave her so in the dark on her affairs?"

"Perhaps Mary is in need of rest?" Mr. Bennet suggested. "It was a long journey to Hertfordshire."

"What rubbish, Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet continued her pounding. "I know not how my nerves survive such trials, when my family provides me with no relief! However might I rest at last with a daughter still unwed and a husband who chooses not to cooperate? Mr. Bennet! Do you not hear a word I have spoken?"

"I am perfectly able to hear you, my dear." Mr. Bennet chuckled but proceeded with his reading. "Do follow your daughter's suit and rest for the remainder of the day."

"And a man escorted her home!" Mrs. Bennet went on to explain. "She would not say a word about it, think of it- my own daughter, unable to speak to her dear mama!"

"I should not think twice of Mary's affairs. It does appear as if she has a steady grip upon them herself."

"A steady grip? However can you think so? The girl is still unmarried! Had she been directing herself so steadily, she would be within wedlock already!"

"Perhaps this is a man who might be courting her?" Mr. Bennet suggested. "Do you not think so?"

"Of course I think so!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. "However could a thought not pass through my mind, Mr. Bennet? But I know not how I shall find out, if my own daughter is so unwilling to discuss the matter with me. Can you not abandon your study for a moment to talk some sense into her?"

"Mary does appear to have much sense about her. I do not think there is another word I might say to make her more sensible than she is already."

"Oh, you make me so tiresome!" Mrs. Bennet tired of conversing and went back to knocking rapidly. "Can you not speak with her? I shall not depart from where I stand until you do so."

"It is your hands which must knock continuously, my dear, for all I must do is turn a page." Mr. Bennet chuckled. "If you so desire to undertake such a strenuous task, then you are free to do so."

"Oh!" Mrs. Bennet shook her head. "Can you just talk to her? Reason with her. I was never one to reason with a person so well, and it is all of the language that she knows."

"If it shall provide me with some peace," Mr. Bennet muttered and opened the door. "I do hope that you are happy, my dear, for I had just to reach the climax of my novel."

"Is not your daughter and this family more important?"

"Of course, but I have faith that it shall all work out."

"How can you possibly think so?" Mrs. Bennet hollered as he ascended the stairs. "We have yet our last daughter to be married, and she shall be the hardest!"

"Mary.."

"The door is unlocked, papa. I heard that you were to come to speak reasonably with me." Mary kept her back to the door as she sat upon the window seat.

"Your mother does not do this to vex you," Mr. Bennet stood behind her, and stared out the window as she did. "She merely wants what is best for you."

"Perhaps you mean to tell me she wants what is best for her… for the family." Mary responded. "She shall never be satisfied until I am married, even if it be with the most unsuitable person."

"I heard that a gentleman escorted you home today," Mr. Bennet smiled and placed a hand upon her shoulder. "Does this gentleman have any intentions in regards to…"

"You need not worry of Jonathan, papa." Mary interrupted. "He could not be more incompatible with me. I am still in the same predicament as ever. Nothing has changed."

"Nothing?" Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows. "I am not one to appear active in the affairs of my family, but I am able to observe when my children grow up."

"Oh papa…" Mary closed her eyes.

"It does seem as if I have not seen my child of a daughter since she returned from Pemberley," Mr. Bennet informed. "In all her sensibility and logic, she was still as puerile as her younger sister initially, but I can see that time has matured her into an independent woman of the highest intellect."

"You need not say such things, papa." Mary uttered when she felt tears pierce her eyes. "You never had to speak such words with Jane or Elizabeth…"

"Jane and Elizabeth were in no need to hear such sentiments from me," Mr. Bennet replied. "They grew up perfectly fine without my interference…"

"…have I gotten so astray, papa, that you feel the need to impede upon whatever progress I attempt to make?" Mary frowned. "I am sorry I am not my sisters. Perhaps then you should have your peace, and mama's nerves may survive after all."

"You forget of what I say," Mr. Bennet told her. "I think you perfectly apt to place your life within order. You have developed into the kind of lady that I had hoped for all of my daughters to be."

"Have Jane and Elizabeth done so as well, but of course they must..."

"Let us not speak of the others," Mr. Bennet placed his other hand upon her shoulder. "This is not to compare you with your sisters, Mary. This is to talk of you, the individual."

"Even Kitty and Lydia?" Mary asked. "Has Lydia truly grown to be a respectable lady?"

"We shall save such a subject for another day," his tone caused Mary to smile slightly. "But, before I depart, might I note that I saw from my study the man that escorted you home, and I had never seen you more happy. You are not so pedantic in your manner as you were before, and it does please me to see you letting loose at last."

"I never think I have heard more words from you at once, papa." Mary commented and found herself laughing again and turned to embrace Mr. Bennet. "Thank you, papa."

"I thought that, perhaps you deserved more words of encouragement, and I do doubt that your mother shall provide you with any, once she is provided the opportunity to speak with you." Mr. Bennet released her. "But, if I may suggest, you find the man of your worth soon, Mary, for I do not think your mother shall live another year if she must wait."

"I do suspect if she shall last the day."

"A very acute observation," Mr. Bennet remarked.

"I suppose that is what I have inherited from my papa." Mary replied, causing Mr. Bennet to chuckle as he walked down the stairs and back into his office, leaving a Mrs. Bennet to remain in the dark again in the affairs of her family.