AN: So I have reached the end of Volume II of Comparisons and Complaisance. I hope you have enjoyed it thus far. One Volume to go, unfortunately. Thank you for all of the reviews so far. You all are so very delightful and it inspires me to continue writing and to update asap so that I might do you all a favor for being so very wonderful to me with your encouraging words. Some of you appear to know very well where this story might head, and I love that you are reading close enough to construe what I intend. I shall stop at that, for fear that I might reveal to much of what is to come. Do continue with your lovely words and reviews, for I am almost at 100!
17
The arrival of Mr. Richardson filled Mary with a new feeling of relief and the following day she roamed the halls of Pemberley with a smile plastered upon her face. Georgiana merely commented on how lovely it was to see her friend so very happily situated within life, and it was not until Mary was visited by William that her condition was remarked upon with scrutiny.
William Cadaver had situated easily within the life of Pemberley. Amongst the other servants, he had become an especial favorite and Mrs. Reynolds already viewed him as a son, providing him with special privileges and making sure to help him adjust in an effortless manner. He appeared before her in a black suit that made him appear far older than he typically was, though Mary initially suspected it be because the suit was not altered to his body and hung on him largely.
"You appear happier every moment I see you, Mary." William noted, tilting his head to the side. "But there is something different with this smile of yours. Whatever happened?"
"The picnic…"
"Ah, yes, of course." William shook his head. "I should have known, for I planned so very much of it in the kitchens. It was most certainly a success, Mary. I am sure you are glad with that."
"Not just that, William." Mary told him, unable to stop her smiling. "Mr. Richardson attended."
"Mr. Richardson?" William could not conceal his shock. "Edward Pendleton's good friend?"
"Yes, that is him." Mary noticed her friend's expression. "Oh, William, do not think so ill of him. I do assure you, the man is perfectly amiable. Why, I have never… I cannot imagine… I am so very happy! It does not seem so normal to be so very blithe but it feels as if I have not the slightest control of these feelings. Please William, do not think that he is so terrible of a person for me…"
"It is not that I doubt his character," William responded. "It is just… Mary… do you not think the man a bore? I fear I might fall into slumber when in his presence."
"He is not so tiring as you might think, William." Mary defended. "I suspected I might find myself too droll when in his company but last night was so very perfect! We strolled in the dark with one another, and I was so very comfortable with it all. Why, I even told him of my childhood, and I never speak of such things to anyone. Mama does not even know so much of me. And then we danced William, and it was all so… so very delightful…"
"Delightful?" William stared at her. "But I thought that you detest such things?"
"Oh, but I do, which is why it is all so very unbelievable!" Mary looked about frantically, unsure of what to do to calm herself. "I could not stop laughing, and I did not wish for him to depart. And since then, I cannot stop smiling, and I feel so very absurd to walk with such a grin upon my face and this jollity that pervades my entire being, but I cannot be rid of it, and I enjoy it all so very much. I do not wish to ever have any other sentiments pass through my body, for these are most becoming."
"It does appear as if my friend is in love."
"Love?" Mary stopped her hysterical rambles. "Surely this is not love?"
"I was just as much a fool when I met Margaret," William explained. "Though we knew one another for so very short of an interval, when I proposed… why… I never thought I should ever wipe a smile from my face. There be no other explanation, Mary. You are incandescently in love."
"Love…" Mary breathed the word. "But… William… I never before imagined love to feel like… like this. I am far too careless and silly and…"
"And not an ounce of logic passes through your veins and it all seems so very ridiculous but so very right at the same instance?"
"Well… I suppose… yes… I believe that is what I feel."
"You are so hopelessly in love, Mary, I cannot help but feel the same feelings of joy for you."
"What a fool I am," Mary placed a hand to her forehead and sat on the ground. "William, I do not know of Mr. Richardson feels the same. Why… what if he does not? What if he does not call upon me again and I have made the biggest fool of myself?"
"It is the folly of love, to place so much of your happiness upon one person and trusting them to provide you with it." William smiled warmly at her and sat beside her. "But you need not worry. A man does not travel and abandon his work to put it in such jeopardy if he does not love the person."
"Is that not what you have done for your brother?" Mary turned. "You put much of what you held dear to yourself on allowing him to attend Edward Pendleton's ball at Chamberlain Hall."
"I suppose so, though he did not prove trustworthy in the end, but I dare say it was not entirely his fault, for my mast…Edward Pendleton… was not the most reasonable of persons that night." William shook his head with a grin. "I do wonder what havoc he now inflicts upon the world. He was never one to be so very satisfied with it all."
"Really? How so?"
"Even as a child, John never could find much contentment in the simple aspects of life." William laughed. "He would worry our mother and father so very much when he would disappear to venture into the towns a few miles away. We attended school, and it would be such an enigma to us all how he was able to produce such extraordinary marks though he rarely attended. He would abandon school to roam the streets. Jonathan knew always where the most fun might be had, and I do not think another person might have enjoyed their childhood more."
"Whatever inspired him to pursue being a sailor? There are other means to travel, surely."
"Of course there are, but he enjoyed the rush. Though it is not the most respectable of jobs, he thought it was great merriment to be crude and unkempt. He is a most peculiar person, but I suppose I have grown so very accustomed to such habits of his that I find it all so perfectly acceptable."
"Well, you are not alone with rambunctious siblings." Mary reminded. "I grew up with a family of very different temperaments and attitudes. It was so rare of an occurrence, to find the house so completely silent."
"Do you suppose you should accept Thomas Richardson, if ever he does propose? For I am sure that he must…"
"I… I do not know."
"You do not know? But Mary, how can you not? You, who has been smiling the entirety of the time since you last departed from him…"
"I do not know enough of the man…"
"What is left to know of him?"
"William, this is the man to whom I shall spend the rest of the duration of my life with. Of course I shall be most certain that he is whom I would wish to dedicate my life to."
"Perhaps you do not love the man…"
"Wait… now I do not? William, this is all so very confusing. Whyever would I not be in love now?"
"Mary, if you have an ounce of doubt within you, you cannot be in love. Why, if you must hesitate before you might declare such sentiments or you are unsure of accepting a proposal from the man… Mary, that is not love."
"Then whatever is it, William?"
"I know not what it is that I might tell you, Mary, but if ever you must hesitate before you answer the question of whether it be love… that is not love."
"Do you believe that it might become love someday, William? I have certainly never before found myself feeling as I do when in his presence, so, surely, that must account for something."
"I am not sure, Mary." William saw the despair now in her eyes. "But I would not worry so much over such a thing, for I am most certain that your answer shall come in time."
"Whenever shall the waiting end, William?" Mary asked. "For so very long I have waited for something to occur, and it does take such a dreadfully long time."
"Do not fret, Mary. Your time shall come."
"Oh, I am most certain it shall, but when?" Mary sighed. "Though I try to appear unwearied, William, I am a most impatient person. And eighteen years is so very long of a time to wait."
"Once again, Mary Bennet, you do not stand alone. I do doubt that any person is ever so patient as they appear."
18
Another sennight passed, and Mary remained at Pemberley. Not much excitement had occurred following the picnic, and order encompassed the affairs of all once more.
Georgiana Darcy had grown particularly jaded by such monotonous routines, and arose at an early hour to awaken Mary, who had been seated at a writing desk in her room the entire night. Not removing herself from her current work, Mary's lack of reluctance to cooperate forced Georgiana to hurry with a chair to attend to her friend's hair and face, and Mary allowed her to do that much.
By the time the sun appeared in a small crescent above the horizon of Pemberley's gardens and struck through the wide windows of Mary Bennet's room, the two young ladies were ready for the day. Dressed in their attire from the picnic, Georgiana had packed a suitcase of another gown for the both of them, and hurried Mary to a carriage that awaited them outside.
"Whatever do you have planned now, Georgiana?" Mary inquired. "You have been so very silent since you impeded upon my writing this morning, and I have not heard a word as to where you plan to take us."
"You shall see in time," Georgiana's grin widened. "Why, I do think that you shall enjoy this trip very much indeed."
"Oh," Mary petted Graham, who rested upon her lap gazing at them both with wide eyes. "She plans to keep secrets with us, Graham. Perhaps we should indulge ourselves with some poetry instead?"
"My, you can never put these books down since you received that letter." Georgiana remarked when she saw Mary's small bag filled entirely with novels of poetry. "Perhaps this be an obsession, Mary?"
"I have always been a true lover of poetry," Mary told her. "This previous experience has merely augmented my tastes."
"I suppose ifa man had sent me poetry, I would never put it down again, for I should think of him with every word and syllable."
"Precisely," Mary grinned and commenced with her reading.
The trip took the duration of the day. In the middle of the afternoon, the carriage came to a halt as Mary and Georgiana descended into a crowded street. It took a glance for Mary Bennet to identify that she resided within London and as she stood before a rather large edifice, she knew very well what awaited her, and her heart accelerated with a predisposition to run back within the carriage.
"Georgiana, I could not possibly…"
"You need not worry, Mary." Georgiana reassured. "I have already corresponded with him, and he is quite aware of your visit."
"But, am I not dressed so very formal for such a visit?"
"It is London, Mary." Georgiana giggled. "There be not a person within the mile who does not dress for the day in anything less than that which we wear."
The halls of the building were ghastly, as walls once a bright white were now gray with age. Though the ceiling was of glass and the sun shown bright above still, the hall was dark and cast in a shadow that appeared abandoned and grisly. Large doors that were cracked and seemed held together by cobwebs had small signs associated with courses offered, and at the end, Mary found in chipped paint the words "Literature- Richardson" and she hesitated with her hand upon the door before entering.
Rows of chairs ascended in a fashion of a stadium with students with heads bowed orof students who lookedup at a lecture in enraptured expressions of listening. At the front, before a chalkboard that reached the ceiling that made even the tall figure before it appear miniscule, Mr. Richardson continued in his discussion of Aristotle and Plato and "The Cave".
Her presence went quite unknown at present time, and Mary stood, staring at the man as he passionately ran about the board, drawing out his views and analysis for his students to scribble down at an equally rapid pace. His overcoat was unbuttoned, and his shirt fell over his pants in a wrinkled fashion. With his cravat untied and his hair disheveled from his hands running through it in deep thought, he appeared much like a raving lunatic, but to Mary Bennet he seemed far too intellectual and seemed, rather,mad with thoughts that materialized far too quickly to disseminate at the appropriate rate.
A laugh surpassed her lips and it echoed in the dimly lit room, and went unnoticed by most. Moments later, a few heads turned, until all of the heads in the stadium were fixated upon her. It was not until the chalk was thrown down and the rampant man advanced to his desk where one of his books lay that he looked up and saw that the attention of his class was elsewhere. Following the gazes of his students, Mr. Richardson saw Mary standing at the entrance, her eyes bearing into his with a smile of amusement.
"Miss Bennet!" he grinned and hurried over, his cravat and shirt billowing out. "It is so very good to see you again."
"My, I never thought education to be so very… passionate." Mary noted his attire and her smile widened. "I most certainly did not expect the man who appeared so very taciturn upon my first acquaintance with him to have such a… display of character."
"Yes, this is truly my passion, as you have noted so accurately, Miss Bennet." Mr. Richardson saw she stared at him, and laughed, fumbling to fix his attire. "I do apologize for my… appearance. I am not always so very… outlandish in my lectures, but I do find myself to be so very fervently involved in my discussions of philosophy in literature. It has been a particular obsession of mine, since I was a youth."
"You need not apologize," Mary laughed. "I just did not expect such an exhibition from you."
"I do suspect my class is perfectly capable of maintaining studious demeanors for the remainder of the day?" Mr. Richardson was answered with a room of nods. "I shall trust you to do some independent studies. There shall be some tests tomorrow, so do promise to do your fair share of reading."
"Do you honestly suspect them to study in your absence?" Mary inquired as he led her outdoors, holding the door for her and locking arms with hers. "It does appear as if that is far too much trust for a person."
"These men have spent far too long devoted to their studies to make it to the university to dally now." Mr. Richardson answered. "They know well what is required of them and, if they do not study now, I do feel quite confident that they shall later in the day."
"You do love your work so very much," Mary responded. "That is very admirable, and I am most envious of you, I must admit. I do wish to have such an ardent love for what I do."
"I cannot imagine that you do not contribute all of yourself to whatever you might find yourself involved in, Miss Bennet."
"Do you not think that a far leap of a speculation?"
"We all do our fair share of conjecture throughout our lives, Miss Bennet. But it does appear that we grow to know one another quite clearly."
"Yes, we do grow better acquainted." Mary admitted, observing his stare. "My, I do think you stare, Mr. Richardson."
"I cannot help to, Miss Bennet," Mr. Richardson did not remove his gaze. "Last I saw you cast in moonlight, this gown did not appear so striking, nor the lady, and in this light, I do not think I have ever seen a more divine image."
"You are far too flattering…"
"I speak the truth, Miss Bennet…"
"How has your studies been, Mr. Richardson?" Mary asked and continued when he did not respond. "I have often wondered what endeavors you find yourself consumed in when you are not within your studies. What else of the world offers you satisfaction?"
"I am so very simple a person," Mr. Richardson answered her. "I am not one to subtly hint to what my intentions are, nor am I one to lead a lady so astray with my actions. I hope I have done neither to you, Miss Bennet, for you to not understand what governs me in my relations with you."
Since Mary Bennet had abandoned him amongst the dancers at the Chamberlain ball, Mr. Richardson had been so very amused. Never before had he seen a woman of more independent thought or of such self-assurance that she would speak so to a stranger. He had been so very compelled by his enchantment by Mary Bennet that he had followed his friend, Edward Pendleton, to where she was with another man. It did not register in his head at the time that what surpassed between his friend and this lady was of immediate drama or threat, and he did not take notice of the raised voices or angered tones, but saw merely the flash of twilight in Mary Bennet's eyes as she confronted those who challenged her. He saw how brilliant she appeared, and he took delight in a woman who was not of the immediate handsomeness that most men primarily find attractive but who possessed some sense of poise to provide her with her own degree of beauty that surpassed any appeal from other women within his presence.
He knew that there was not much he knew of the women, and that his acquaintance with her was far too short for him develop the necessary knowledge of her to make any decisions that posed a long term effect upon his life, but he found himself rearranging the affairs of his life to somehow accommodate her into it. When in her presence, time ceased to appear so very abundant, and he felt that not another moment should be wasted. Perhaps he knew upon his first acquaintance with her, when he had saw her in the same tone of outfit as himself, as if they were meant to be paired together, that he would be before her someday as he is this very moment, knowing well that he would rearrange his life to encircle her entirely.
"It grows dark already," Mary saw the sun begin to set. "And I know not where Georgiana resides. She had abandoned me at the university, without a word of where I should meet her."
"We stand now before the doorsteps of the residence of the Darcy family," Mr. Richardson watched Mary turn her head to look at the building. "I did promise your friend, a Miss Georgiana Darcy, to escort you to where you shall stay. I believe your sister, Elizabeth Bennet, and her husband reside here as well."
"Thank you for escorting me, Mr. Richardson." Mary smiled. "I am most pleased to see you again so very soon. I suppose we might see one another again, during my stay in London?"
"Of course," Mr. Richardson answered. "I intend to see you very often, Miss Bennet."
"I should invite you in, Mr. Richardson, but I know not if it is appropriate, for it is not my home." Mary told him. "If you would like…"
"Perhaps it should be odd for me to enter now and invade upon a family reunion, merely as a close acquaintance…" Mr. Richardson responded, and looked her in the eye. "…but, perhaps it should not be so very odd if I entered now as a person to embrace and welcome his family?"
"Surely you do not mean to say…" Mary stopped herself, for she knew the answer.
"Miss Bennet, I know it is far too early in our acquaintance, but I cannot wait. When in your presence, I feel as if I should never wish to depart from your side, and, I do feel I might have the remedy."
"The remedy?"
"Yes, the remedy for this feeling that arises whenever I find myself in your acquaintance… the sentiments that rush through my being since I first met you. Take my hand, Miss Bennet, and we should never have to depart from one another again."