15
Preparation for the Pemberley picnic lasted for over a sennight. Georgiana worked with Mary to decide on what foods to serve, and chose on which blankets, tables, and chairs might furnish the lawn. Decorations took two days, as they decided on what colors would best compliment the landscape, and Georgiana had insisted upon them shopping for a new outfit for the event.
She had, naturally, chosen another pastel dress of yellow, with white lace framing the neckline and hems, and ribbons of the same hue around her waist. Despite Georgiana's protests on the shade, Mary had decided upon a gown of a deep purple that reminded her very much of the night. Though it was intended to be a gown for a ball, Mrs. Barnaby had pinned up the dress so it was not so short, and had the fabric bunched up from behind her waist, which turned out for the better, for even Georgiana admitted that the gown looked breathtaking with its new adjustments.
However, what truly made these last moments before the picnic appear to be extraordinarily unbearable was Mr. Richardson's response to his invitation. Mary had awaited its arrival since the invitations were first sent out, and it was upon the early morning of the day of the gathering that the servants knocked upon her door with the letter.
"Oh, Mary, you must read it aloud!" Georgiana begged as Mary pulled out the letter. "I could not bear to wait another moment to hear what its contents are."
"'Dear Ms. Mary Bennet,'" Mary began. "'It is of the utmost urgency that I write to you. As of late, I have been so very preoccupied with my work and other matters in regards to my life that I have neglected my response to your sweet invitation. I would very much wish to be present at your gathering, for I have no doubt that you shall be a most gracious hostess, but I cannot promise to you that I shall be able to come. I do wish to see you again, for I find much joy in your company, but I know not if my work may permit my absence for a day or two so that I might come and see you. It does appear as if there be not enough hours in the day for me, Miss Bennet, otherwise I would call upon you more often than time permits me to at present time. But do not think that my absence at your picnic shall evoke any ill sentiments towards you. I shall try to arrive at a reasonable hour, but if I do find myself able to attend, I do apologize, for I shall most certainly be tardy. You did note that I am a punctual man, and I do hate to disappoint you by being dilatory, but it appears as if that may be my only option so that I might see you. I do hope that you find much enjoyment in your picnic and that you are just as well off as ever you were. I am of the utmost certainty that your gathering shall be a success! Much regards, Thomas Richardson.'"
"Well… at least the man was able to explain himself," Georgiana saw the crestfallen countenance of her friend. "I am sure that he truly did wish to come, Mary. Mary! Do not be so sad… I could not bear it…"
"It is not sadness," Mary's eyes remained upon the letter. "It is that I realize now, it was Mr. Richardson who sent me Graham." The kitten's head came up at the sound of its name.
"Mr. Richardson? Are you so very sure now?"
"Why, of course," Mary answered. "He sent me also a poem in this other letter. Again."
"Do read it, Mary! I do grow to love poetry so very much. Your Mr. Richardson is making me become quite the lover…"
"She was a phantom of delight/When first she gleam'd upon my sight;/A lovely apparition, sent/To be a moment's ornament;/Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;/Like twilight's, took her dusky hair;/But all things else about her drawn/From May-time and the cheerful dawn;/A dancing shape, an image gay/To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
"I saw her upon nearer view/A Spirit, yet a Woman too/Her household motions light and free/And steps of virgin liberty;/A countenance in which did meet/Sweet records, promises as sweet;/A creature not too bright or good/For human nature's daily food;/For transient sorrows, simple wiles/Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles."
"And now I see with eye serene/The very pulse of the machine;/A being breathing thoughtful breath/A traveler between life and death;/The reason firm, the temperate will/Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;/A perfect Woman, nobly plann'd/To warn, to comfort, and command;/And yet a Spirit still, and bright/With something of angelic light."
"Oh, such sweet words, Mary!"
"'Perfect Woman,' by William Wordsworth." Mary grinned to herself. "It was a favorite of my sisters before they were married. They devoured the words up as if there was no other savory confection in this world."
"My, this Mr. Richardson is quite the romantic," Georgiana grabbed the letter and read it over again. "He did not sign it?"
"I suppose Mr. Richardson wishes to be mysterious," Mary answered simply in a reasonable tone. "He did remark that he found me to be intriguing. Perhaps this is his means of intriguing me. Unfortunate for him that his two letters arrived on the same day."
"Of course you shall marry him now, Mary." Georgiana responded. "Why, he did go through such trouble to do such a thing for you! And he does appreciate literature, as you do, and you shall both be able to speak of words of eloquence with one another 'til kingdom come, if you so desired. It is so very perfect!"
"I still do not know the man, nor does he really know me."
"Oh, but he shall propose, of that I am sure. You shall not reject him, shall you?"
"Mr. Richardson is so very occupied with his life, he has not the time to think of marriage." Mary responded. "He cannot even find time enough to attend a small gathering, and he is most certainly not in the position to propose. And, if he does, I know not what I should do, for I know not enough of him to make such a decision. But, since providence does appear that if he does choose to propose, he shall do so in quite some time, then I am sure I might know him before such an occurrence happens."
"Such formalities always seemed so unnecessary," Georgiana pouted.
"I need to know the man I marry, Georgiana. Do you not wish to do the same?"
"I suppose I do, but I should not think of the matter in so practical a sense…" Georgiana replied. "I should not look at a description of what he does, nor know of what his favorite plate is, or how many years he spent in his current employment. I suppose I should rather know if the man is able to make me feel like I truly am loved and such matters as if I find our time together enjoyable and can imagine myself doing such things with him in the future with just as much contentment. That be all I think I should know before I might decide on whether or not I might accept any offer of marriage."
"You do always manage to arouse such feelings of guilt within me for being the way I am," Mary sighed. "I know I should think him to be perfectly amiable. I do. Truly. I cannot think of a reason why I should not marry the man, and yet I still wish to know more before I can make a decision. It does appear as if I have become nonsensical."
"Love does that to a person," Georgiana hinted.
"Oh, enough of you and your talk of love!" Mary responded, though she laughed. "I do assure you there is far more to converse of with a person than the affairs of the heart."
"I suppose so, but do we not try to use our heart in all matters?"
"My, and now you shall use my logic against me?" Mary shook her head. "You are positively malicious, Georgiana Darcy."
"Such a strong word for a friend," Georgiana laughed. "But I do suppose I deserved that, for I have been most unwilling to drop such a subject with you."
"At least you have come to be aware of it."
"I suppose this is enough chatter for the day?" Georgiana sat up. "I do believe we have neglected our tasks for too long an interval of time. Perhaps we should depart outdoors so we might greet our guests?"
"I suppose we should."
16
Guests appeared promptly at the time suggested for their arrival, and Mary Bennet and Georgiana Darcy greeted them with a smile. Within the hour, the lawns of Pemberley were filled with people conversing and enjoying themselves immensely. The two young ladies received much praise on their choice of décor, hanging ribbons of pink and white from the plants and columns and trees. Thick blankets of the same hues were scattered throughout, and there were many dining sets of a creamy shade of white with umbrellas of pink placed about randomly.
The day worn on, until the sky set in bursts of purple, pink, and orange. Candles were lit in the bushes and the candelabra were taken out to provide a faint illumination for the guests that remained. As most balls were held during the night, all had a natural inclination to want to dance, and so the patio that had been often neglected during the day was filled with guests who reveled in such merriment.
Despite herself, Mary was taken by a few men who asked for her hand, and she and Georgiana would giggle and wink at one another as they passed, laughing much as Lydia and Kitty had once done. As she stepped away from her last partner, breathing heavily and smiling all the while, Mary felt a slight touch upon her shoulder and turned to find Mr. Richardson standing before her.
"M-m-miss Bennet," Mr. Richardson took in the sight of her and took another breath. "Would it be so bold of me to compliment on how positively breathtaking you appear?"
"I suppose there be no need to answer such an inquiry, given that you have already spoken such a thing." Mary laughed and stepped away from the dancers. "I did not think you would be able to come. I hope you have not neglected too much of your priorities."
"Believe me, Miss Bennet, that if I had the opportunity to rearrange such priorities, they would surely be much different."
"I am glad that you were able to make it to Pemberley for the gathering," Mary told him, not wishing for silence to be present too much in the conversation.
"It looks exceptionally delightful," Mr. Richardson looked around now as if it were his first time to see the scenery about him. "You have done a superb job of the décor, Miss Bennet."
"You need not call me, Miss Bennet, Mr. Richardson." Mary replied. "We are all friends here. Mary shall suit me perfectly fine, I do promise you."
"I shall call you Mary only if you shall do me the same justice and call me Thomas."
"Thomas," Mary said the name to try it out. "Oh, you seem so much more formal to be a Thomas. Mr. Richardson is so much more suitable for you, in your polished attire and spectacles and…"
"Perhaps I might be indulged with your company for a walk?" Mr. Richardson asked, this time offering his arm out to her. "It would truly make my evening to be allowed to have your presence with me in private."
"I suppose I might be able to indulge you on that much, at least." Mary answered, her arm now locked with him. "It does appear as if the sun sets far too fast. Just earlier it was setting in the most brilliant colors."
"I do apologize, for I do wish to discuss such lovely landscapes with you, but my thoughts were far too preoccupied to notice such things before I arrived."
"Is there far too much work on your mind?" Mary questioned. "You know, you did not have to abandon your work merely for this. It is just a small something that I planned with a friend. I am sure there shall be other opportunities…"
"I shall never regret attending this," Mr. Richardson told her seriously. "For a moment away from my work to be spent in the company of such an exquisite woman s-s-such as yourself, Miss Bennet, I thank you for all of this."
"But I do feel as if it should be I to thank you, Mr. Richardson." Mary responded. "You have been far too generous to me as of late…"
"No, Miss Bennet, the pleasure was entirely my own. You deserve far more than that which I have provided…"
"You are too modest."
"And you are just as much so."
"Well, then it does appear as if we have another trait in common." Mary laughed, unsure of how to respond any other way.
"It is far too pleasurable to be away from my work," Mr. Richardson took a deep breath of the night air. "As of late, it has been consuming all of my time."
"Yes, I came into the acquaintance of a Mrs. Barnaby, whose husband knows you. She spoke that you were quite engulfed in your studies."
"For far too long has my life been encompassed by my studies," Mr. Richardson looked at Mary and smiled. "But do know, Miss Bennet, that eventually I shall rearrange these priorities of mine."
"For how long do you plan to stay?" Mary asked. "Do you not have a class tomorrow?"
"I do have a class in the morning."
"Do you worry you shall not return in time?"
"The thought has crossed my mind, I must admit." Mr. Richardson admitted. "However, I find far more enjoyment in my current position to allow myself to feel such concern."
"Mr. Richardson, may I inquire as to why resume your friendship with Edward Pendleton?"
"You may," Mr. Richardson frowned. "I am sure you do not think so fondly of my friend, especially after the confrontation that occurred during the Chamberlain Ball. However, I grew up with the man. He was often neglected, and it allowed for him to grow without boundaries. His independence since his parents' death has placed him with much power, and though he grows arrogant, there is much of the young Pendleton that I knew as a lad that I cannot abandon. There is much that I do not approve of about my friend, but I still see him as the boy that I know, and cannot imagine departing from his acquaintance. I suppose it is that sacred memory that makes me cling to this relation of mine…"
"I suppose I understand," Mary lowered her eyes. "My younger sisters, most particularly Lydia, were not always so presumptuous as they are at present time. I do recall a time when my youngest sister often followed me about, while Kitty was just as much a child as she. She foundmy maturityespecially appealing, and clung to me as a child clings to their mother, for often mama was still as whimsical in her puerile ways as us children, and I was the only adult figure present in her life besides papa, who was too busy with his work or in his study to spend much time with us children. Unfortunately, the traits that she loved as a babe she would reject as she got older, and shesoon becameconsumed in the same pursuit of mama's in this game of marriage."
"Game?" Mr. Richardson arched an eyebrow. "You speak as if love is something that is in need of strategy and technique."
"And that is the portrait of mama's ideas of love. Mama desires to be the master in it," Mary let out a quick laugh at the thought. "She has been most studious in the preparation, I do assure you. I cannot say that it has done her much good, for though my sisters all reside in providential positions within wedlock, it was more by their own doing than her own. Mama's interference likely deferred the process, if anything."
"So does this mother of yours now pursue to wed you off as well, Miss Bennet?"
"She has been attempting this since I was old enough to attend balls," Mary shook her head. "I suppose the marriage of her middle child is a most arduous task, for she has not succeeded thus far."
"Perhaps it might be because no man has yet to measure up?"
"Oh, I do think it is more that I am not as desirable of a woman as I ought to be, and it is I who fall short of such standards."
"I have never before heard a more nonsensical statement," Mr. Richardson looked her in the eyes. "You are a most brilliant lady, Miss Bennet, and I cannot imagine a man who might think you not desirable."
"You speak far too much flattery," Mary responded. "My sisters… they are handsome, and I…"
"And you have your fair share of beauty as well," Mr. Richardson interrupted. "I shall not hear of you belittling yourself, Miss Bennet, when I can see plainly before me that you are a most attractive lady with the most becoming qualities."
"As a child, I once took Lydia to the Meryton with me." Mary began, reminiscing the past. "It was before I grew distaste for being in public so very often, and before Lydia refused my company in her life. She was eleven, I believe, perhaps twelve… maybe thirteen… my memory fails me at present time. We passed by a street where a group of boys tossed a ball. They were quite youthful still, though I could identify them as being a bit elder, and advancing rapidly into manhood. We had interrupted their game and they stared in a way that made me blush. It was the first time that I came to realize that women could incite the fancy of a man. However, the gazes that I thought might be intended for me were proven false when they advanced and began to speak to my sister. She had never before noticed such attention from men as well, and reveled in their affection. Naturally, I hurried her away from the boys, much to her protest. It was a first for her as well, and after that, she preferred to go out with Kitty or my other sisters, and we went out separate ways. I knew then that I should never compare to my sisters… that I was simply not the same. As of late, I have received the attention of a few men, and it has been most surprising for me. Eighteen years of life before this has been nothing but a position of being ignored and unnoticed by all. I am so unaccustomed to being compared to beauties, and thought one…"
"Miss Bennet, I know not why any person might ever shun your presence, but boys are often filled with a head of air at such an age. But, Miss Bennet, you should not compare yourself to your sisters, nor any other person. We all are so incomparable, and we shall always fall short in comparisons to others. If the primary foundation of our personal esteem lies within where we stand in comparisons of others, we shall never be satisfied. Before me stands a lady who exudes a splendor that is undeniable. I must admit, never before have I a pursued a woman as I have in regards to you, Miss Bennet. I do hope you have not tired of my company, or of my talk, for I do wish to see more of you again, Miss Bennet, as often as time permits me."
"I think I should enjoy that," Mary smiled. "And I did come to notice that we grow to open up to one another. You do not stutter in a nervous habit as you had before…" Mary covered her mouth at what she had spoken. "…but you are not the only one, Mr. Richardson. I do apologize for…"
"It is very true, that I have been prone to lose my ability to speak when caught in a fit of nervousness," Mr. Richardson laughed, and Mary found it quite delightful to hear.
"And I do not open so easily to others, where I might speak of my childhood." Mary told him. "You are the first person that I have shared such a story with."
"Then I truly do feel it was a privilege to hear of such a memory, Miss Bennet." Mr. Richardson looked around them, as they had reached the end of all the lights and stood now with only the stars above as illumination. "It does appear as if we have abandoned all of the gathering."
"I entirely forgot that," Mary laughed. "My, time certainly does progress quite rapidly. It is hard to believe the evening is nearly up. I suppose you should leave soon, so you might return to your work at your designated time in the morning?"
"It has been a most pleasurable evening, Miss Bennet." Mr. Richardson steered her back towards the gathering. "And it does seem that I must soon depart, which is most unfortunate, for I have enjoyed our time together immensely. However, I cannot depart quite yet until I have stolen you for at least one dance, perhaps two? I first saw you this evening finishing a dance and you looked so very exquisite, with your eyes sparkling and you face flushed from the merriment, that I cannot leave before seeing such a look upon you again. It shall be the memory I take with me as I drive home into the night…"
"Well, after such a gratifying speech, I cannot deny you this." Mary told him, blushing as she held his hand and was led into the group of dancers.