9

Perhaps it was the initial shock of her first offer or proposal or the flush or mortification of Jonathan Cadaver's final words, but Mary Bennet found her heart beating at an accelerated pace for the remainder of the day. Mary departed the Gallagher household the moment after Jonathan left her, and William and Margaret knew well not to inquire of what occurred as they saw her march away.

"I told him that he be a fool to suspect anything further from this relationship with Mary," William admitted to his betrothed. "He is a rogue and she a scholar. They are entirely ridiculous, and so very different."

"Are we not all fools?" Margaret asked. "I am not so alike you either, William, yet here we are…"

"Yes, but you have accepted me. Mary did not in regards to John."

"He should not give up. Persistence is a desirable quality in a man."

"I do wonder if John did love her, though…"

"William! How can you say such a thing! He is your brother."

"John has been so accustomed to women he cannot imagine life without them. He has been far too long without the company of one, and Mary is so very different from them all, he was easily captivated. This rejection is not likely to cause much injury upon him. By morning he shall be on the rebound and he shall find a baker's dozen more willing companions by supper, I am sure."

"He does not appear to be so devoid of injury, William." Margaret noted as Jonathan Cadaver sat upon the steps, his head bowed and hands tangled within his hair. "Perhaps you should speak with him?"

"You need not worry of John. He is a true Casanova of his times."

"Do not forget that he, too, came to find true love."

"I dare say he shall, but not with Mary."

Upon looking up, the two found the step empty, and Jonathan Cadaver was no where to be found.

Never might I have thought Jonathan Cadaver to be the sort of man to think himself so very in love with me that he should propose, for I believe that was what he wished to speak of before I continued to prevent such words to ever escape. Him, the man who flirted openly and received no guilt from all his troublesome ways, thinks me to be compatible? He is more suited for Lydia and, perhaps, if she had not lost the small degree of sensibility within her to elope and marry Wickham, she might have met Jonathan and they could have made a happy couple. Whyever would I willingly choose to spend a life with a person who shares the same whims as my youngest sister? Am I to be rid of that nuisance merely to gain another?

"Mary! Mary!" Mrs. Bennet pounded upon her door.

"Mama, I shall not speak of supper at the Gallagher's, nor shall I tell of Chamberlain Hall. You need not invest the remainder of the evening in such fruitless attempts."

"Never mind that, blessed child of mine!" Mrs. Bennet seemed to sing in merriment. "You have another guest tonight. I do hope you have not changed your attire since you arrived at home, sweetest girl, for I am sure our visitor shall be very pleased with your apparel…"

"Whoever might choose to visit at such a time…"

Mrs. Bennet skipped down the stairs with a youthful vigor as she led her daughter to where her guest waited. Mr. Richardson fumbled with his spectacles as Mary Bennet, with her hair down and her face still flushed from her first encounter with a man that evening, entered the room. He rose clumsily, fumblingwith the book within his hands as he approached her in a trembling fashion.

"M-m-m-Miss Bennet," he held out his hand and bowed, and Mary saw his hands shook. "It is a pleasure to… find myself in your acquaintance once more."

"I do not expect you to visit."

"But we are very pleased to have you here, Mr. Richardson." Mrs. Bennet told him. "Very pleased, indeed. You are welcome here whenever you would like, and I am most certain Mary would enjoy you to visit often as well."

"Mama!"

"If I am permitted, perhaps I might take Miss Bennet for a walk?" Mr. Richardson suggested and Mary was stunned the man could utter such a bold statement without hesitancy.

"Of course… of course!" Mrs. Bennet ran to open the door from them. "I am sure she shall take great delight in your company. What a capital suggestion."

"I do hope I do not interfere with your reading, Miss Bennet, by my unexpected arrival."

"It was no intrusion at all," Mary turned to look back and saw Mrs. Bennet waving as if she now road away happily married this very moment. "Though I do wonder why you went through such a bother merely to visit…"

"Can you not think why, Miss Bennet?"

"I did think that after our first meeting… I did not behave so politely as a lady should."

"I dare say it was most bedazzling," Mr. Richardson replied. "I have never before seen such a display from a woman. It was most intriguing. I do find much enjoyment in a woman who might think for herself."

"What tales do you often find yourself reading, Mr. Richardson?"

"As of late, I have merely maintained my studies for my students," Mr. Richardson explained. "I teach English Literature at the University."

"A teacher?" Mary raised an eyebrow. "I did not know you teach."

"Yes, over in London." Mr. Richardson informed. "I am returning now from the weekend, and thought I might call upon you, since you live upon the way."

"How convenient for you."

A silence passed now in which Mary Bennet looked ahead and Mr. Richardson fumbled with his book, his eyes shifting uncertainly at the book in his hands and the woman who walked beside him.

"Perhaps… I might… p-p-possibly… indulge you with some verse, Miss Mary?"

"Yes, I do take much delight in such things."

"I am your spaniel; and, my dear Mary/ The more you beat me, I will fawn on you./Use me but as your spaniel: spurn me, strike me/Neglect me, lose me: only give me leave/Unworthy as I am, to follow you./What worser place can I beg in your love-/And yet a place of high respect with me-/Than to be used as you use your dog?"

"It is Shakespeare, is it not?"

"Yes, from A Midsummer Night's Dream."

"Of course, I am well-versed in Shakespeare as well…" Mary grinned in complacence. "Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit/For I am sick when I do look on thee."

"Have you come to memorize all of Shakespeare's plays?" Mr. Richardson inquired, though he felt himself pale at her reply. "It does appear as if I am in the presence of a true scholar."

"Just some of his shorter ones," Mary answered. "I did so love the brilliance of such stories as a child I would read them to my younger sisters until I memorized them. It did provide me with much ease as my sisters grew older and still desired that I read to them the same tales."

"Have you not thought of pursuing education?"

"Surely such places as universities would not allow for a female to attend…" Mary answered, though she smiled at the thought.

"No, I mean for you to teach."

"Teach?" Mary's smile faded as that idea came to an end.

"Why, of course! You could be a governess. It is a stable enough living, and you should receive a substantial income for your services. I do recommend it, for it is most rewarding."

"I have never before considered such an option."

"You should, for I am most certain you shall provide the acme of education."

"How long do you intend to reside at Hertfordshire, Mr. Richardson?"

"I shall continue with my journey this very evening. I must return before my lessons begin tomorrow."

"Oh, I would not wish to deter you or cause you to be dilatory," Mary responded when she knew not anything else to say.

"You need not worry of such things."

"But I should feel responsible if you were denied such punctuality on account of our rendezvous," Mary told him, more for her sake, than his. "It does grow late, after all."

"I suppose I should walk you home," Mr. Richardson agreed. "You are very considerate, Miss Bennet, to consider my circumstances."

"You give me too much credit for my actions."

"Nonsense, I do not give enough."

10

The departure of Mr. Richardson put an end to Mrs. Bennet's inquiries of Mary Bennet's previous affairs. Within her mind, it mattered not the past now, so long as her daughter had a hopeful future with the emergence of this eligible gentleman within her daughter's life. Again, Mrs. Bennet found herself enveloped in merriment for her daughter, of whom she was now, most certain, would find happiness within her relationship to this new gentleman in her life.

"A teacher, Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet sat upon the ground, leaning against the locked door of her husband's study. "Could I not ask for more for our Mary? Why, she was always one to enjoy books, and now she has a professor of literature at her doorsteps! There shall be no doubt that she shall find happiness with this match!"

"Perhaps you should plan the wedding, my dear." Mr. Bennet suggested. "In case the man proposes as early as you anticipate."

"Oh, do you not think I have not already? You give me no credit at all, Mr. Bennet!"

"Does Mary truly feel an attachment with this man?"

"Why, of course she must!" Mrs. Bennet replied. "The man is every bit alike as she! So very proper and a perfect gentleman. A professor at a university, can you think of it, Mr. Bennet? She shall have a lovely home in London, oh my blessed girl!"

"I was never one to choose the city before the country…"

"Oh, but she should be amongst such great minds…" Mrs. Bennet told him. "There are libraries there where she might invest her days. Yes, it is the most perfect situation. She shall not refuse this one…"

"Do not be so certain."

"I see no reason why I should not," Mrs. Bennet answered. "Whyever would Mary not choose the man? He is perfectly amiable and so very compatible. I have never met a man so alike as my own daughter."

"Yes, but we have wed, and are we so very alike, my dear?"

"Oh, you say this merely to rile me up, Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet answered. "You need not find reason to tease me, especially in such moments of joy! Our daughter… with a caller!"

Mrs. Bennet's words of joy with her husband were cut off when the door was knocked upon and a servant called for a Miss Mary Bennet. She stood abruptly from where she sat and hurried up the stairs.

"Mama, I am already downstairs." Mary saw her mother rush up the staircase. "You need not fetch me."

"Well, go to greet you guest!" Mrs. Bennet ordered. "And if it is Mr. Richardson, and you have neglected him so upon our doorstep… hurry!"

"It is only William, mama." Mrs. Bennet looked below and saw the boy standing beside her daughter.

"Oh!" Mrs. Bennet laughed and sat upon the stairs. "Hello, child."

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Bennet." William called above. "If you would not mind, I should like to take Mary for a walk."

"Yes, you may, but do bring her back, for she might have a visitor today, and I should not wish to keep him waiting!"

"Whatever is your mother speaking of, Mary?" William inquired when they had departed for the outdoors.

"Oh, Mr. Richardson arrived at my home only last evening when I returned from the Gallagher's, and she feels he shall call again, though I am most certain that he remains in London, teaching to his classes." Mary answered. "Mama is so very anxious for me and Mr. Richardson. I dare say she makes up for my own lack of enthusiasm."

"Mr. Richardson?" William thought back to remember the man. "Was he not who Edward Pendleton wished for you to meet?"

"Yes, and I found it most odd that he should seek me out, after the display that occurred at the Chamberlain Ball."

"He should be a good match for you, Mary." William told her. "He is a true gentleman, I do assure you. He is a friend of Edward Pendleton's as a child, but they are not alike at all. He is very shy, I believe, and finds himself stuttering or at a loss of words when he is nervous."

"Yes, I did notice that about the man." Mary laughed. "He is very amiable, and he can maintain a conversation of literature if he willed it, but he did appear a bit dull. I found myself to provide him with the same monotonous conversation as he provided me. I am not sure if I could expect much from him." Mary ceased her talk of the man and turned to William. "How have you adjusted to work at the Gallagher's? I did notice yesterday that you appeared very tired and worn. Never before had I noted such terrible posture from William Cadaver."

"It is most terrible," William moaned. "I am not made to be a farmer, Mary. I simply cannot last another day. I could not sleep last night, for my arms and back ached. I am not built like my brother. He easily completed his work, and then finished the remainder of my own, but he disappeared last night with the horse and carriage. I suspect he left early for wherever he feels he is destined to depart to now."

"Oh," Mary tried not to convey any indication of the events that occurred between Jonathan and herself. "Well, what shall you do about the work, William? You cannot possibly continue your labor on the farm. I could not stand to have you injure yourself, and I am sure Margaret shares the same feelings as I."

"That is why I come to you today, Mary…" William began. "I do not wish for you to think I take advantage of our relationship, or that I use you for my own personal gains, but might you extend my services to one of your sister's families? I shall be a indentured servant for them, for it is what I am so accustomed to. I am just not made to make a living from being a farmer."

"I completely understand," Mary nodded. "I did offer you to work at Pemberley if you wished. I am sure if I talked to my sister, she would understand. If not, I could merely talk to her husband, or his sister, who is likely to influence his decision as well."

"You would do that for me, Mary?"

"Of course. Is that not what a friend would do for another?"

"Yes," William laughed. "I dare say that is what a friend might do."

"So I suppose that provides us with the consideration of when we should depart for Pemberley…" Mary pondered. "When would you like to leave?"

"Could we possibly leave soon?" William suggested, blushing. "I cannot imagine another day of work. I fear I shall die."

"Then I suppose we should leave tomorrow, lest you die from the labor." Mary laughed. "Does tomorrow suit you?"

"You would not mind?"

"I already tire of all of this," Mary shrugged. "And I do enjoy the company of my sister-in-law. She is a dearest friend of mine, and I do feel as if I have not seen her in a month."

"My, we leave already." William grinned. "It does appear as if you have roots no where anymore, Mary Bennet."

"I dare say I do not," Mary replied. "But it is better that way, for I do enjoy picking myself up and moving about. Such travels seem to do me much good."

"I have observed what all of this has done for you, Mary." William told her. "And I could not agree more."

AN: So, Mary Bennet and William Cadaver embark for Pemberley once more. Do review and tell me what you think, and I shall be sure to type rapidly and update soon. Perhaps tomorrow?