Chapter 6

Pushing his hair out of his face, he swiped his eyes across the large mahogany desk and sighed. Stacks of correspondence were piled high in the corner, while maps of military strategies for training lay scattered in front of him. All of his men had been given three months leave before some of them left for the Americas and the rest stayed in England to fight Napoleon. Reaching over, Richard grabbed half of the letters and slowly pulled them towards him. Sifting through the first few, he stopped suddenly when a particular one caught his eye. Picking it up a grin spread over his face when he saw who it was from. Over the last three years, he had become friends with Michael Lucas.

The two had gotten along over their need to prove to their parents that being in the militia was not a bad choice for a life. Breaking the seal, he scanned the page.

Colonel Fitzwilliam,

I have been home in Hertfordshire for a few weeks and have met up with a few of my old friends I have not seen since I left to join the militia. I am penning this letter to you, since I would like to know where I will be sent next; whether to the Americas or if I am able to stay in England. The young lady I told you about one night is still unattached and I am planning on offering for her, but I need to make sure she is willing to follow me either way. If you are ever in Hertfordshire within the next coming weeks, stop in and meet the family.

Lucas

Laying the letter beside him, Richard grabbed a blank sheet of paper. Picking up a pen, he held it above the parchment. Why was he hesitating? One of his good friends wanted to know where he would be headed so he could take his lady with him, which ever place that would be. Running a hand through his hair, he closed his eyes. The rest of his regiment would not be back for another two months at least, so maybe he should take a leave as well. It was only him and one other senior officer working on military strategies and what their next move would be, but he could use a little rest too.

Setting the parchment back on the stack, Richard pushed the chair back and stood. He would take his leave in the morning and head to Hertfordshire. Not knowing what kind of adventure awaited him there.

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As the sun lazily pushing its way through the curtains trying to wake the bedrooms occupant, the trees gently swayed to the rhythm of the breeze. A bird perched itself on a branch and gently pecked on the glass window. The occupant on the bed shifted in her sleep, bunching the patchwork quilt around her body. Her face was scrunched up, as if she was trying to concentrate on something.

The music starting playing and she felt herself being pulled on to the dance floor. Looking at the hand that grasped hers, she realized that it was a gentleman's. Looking up to figure out who was pulling her along, she could not focus on his face. It was hidden behind a mask. Reaching up to touch her own face, she found a mask covering the top part of her face. Digging her heels into the dance floor, she tugged her hand back, but it would not budge.

"We will only be out here for a few minutes, my love," his voice reached her ears.

Shaking her head, she pulled her hand once more. "I do not want to dance, sir. Unhand me or else I will scream!" she said and raised her voice at the end. After a few more seconds and he still did not stop, she opened her mouth to yell for help, when a hand clamped over it. Her scream muffled, she raised her eyes and found herself staring in to a pair of eyes that were becoming so familiar to her.

Pulling the covers over her head, Mary groaned. That was the fifth straight night that she had woken from a dream about Michael Lucas. Throwing the covers from her, she swung her feet over the side of the bed. Laying a hand on the patchwork quilt, she studied the design. This was the first quilt her mother and her sisters helped her complete. That had been six years ago before her mother's nerves had taken over and she spent all of her time grooming Jane and Lydia to be the perfect wives and catch wealthy husbands.

Letting out a sigh, Mary stood from the bed and walked over to her wardrobe. Opening the door, she fingered through the few dresses she owned, finally settling on a dark blue. It had been an old one of Janes and it soon became one of Mary's favorite dresses. Swiftly getting out of her nightgown and into her day dress; she made her way over to her vanity. Looking in to the glass, she wondered what any gentleman saw in her. Her face a round, freckles dotted her cheeks on either side of her nose, and her lips were thin.

Grabbing a few pins, Mary quickly piled her hair up. A few strands hung loose on the side of her face, but she did not have the time to fix it now. If she did not get down to break her fast soon, there would not be much left to choose from. Opening the door, she glance both ways to make sure none of her family members were around. Smiling when she saw that she was alone, Mary walked to the staircase, humming her favorite tune.

She learned early on to not hum when she was around Lydia or Kitty. They both would call her names and tell her to stop because she was not very good at it. Making her way to the breakfast parlor, she stepped into the room, but cringed when she found Lydia wearing a dress that had a neckline that was too low for a young lady her age. Glancing to the other occupants around the table, Mary noticed that her father and mother did not seem to notice. Either that or they did not care what their daughters were up to or how they acted. Filling her plate with a few of her favorite, she chose the last chair. Finding herself seated between Jane and Elizabeth, she glanced Jane's way and tilted her head in Lydia's direction. Jane shook her head slightly as to not draw attention to them, but gave Mary a small smile.

Biting into her blueberry muffin, she quietly listened to the conversation flowing around her. Lydia was talking about ribbons and making up a new bonnet, while Kitty wanted to walk into Meryton to look at fabric for a new dress. Turning her gaze to her father, she found him absorbed in his paper, not bothering to listen to his wife or daughters talk about spending more pin money that they had.

"Mr. Bennet. An express has just arrived for Miss Jane," Hill stated as she interrupted their quiet morning. Handing the folded parchment to Mr. Bennet, she curtsied and walked back to the kitchen. Scanning the front of the paper, he quickly handed it to his eldest daughter.

"Who is it from Jane?" Lydia exclaimed. Reaching across the table, she made to grab it. "Can I read it after you are done?"

"Lydia, this is not addressed to you. It is Jane's property now," Elizabeth admonished and glared at her mother, who was all a flutter, wondering who it was from.

Breaking the wax seal, Jane gave a slight smile when she saw who penned the missive. "It is from Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. They are inviting me to tea today at two o'clock. May I use the carriage Papa?" she asked hopefully. Storms clouds had been building in the west since early morning and she wanted to make an impression on her guests. It would not do well to show up cold and wet.

"No, no Jane that would not do. You need to take Daisy," Mrs. Bennet protested as she watched the storm roll in. it would be perfect chance for Jane to capture Mr. Bingley if it was raining when she showed up on horseback. Her eldest daughter married!

"Mama, it is going to rain." Elizabeth stated as she moved her gaze to her father. Locking eyes with him, she sighed as he drifted back in to himself and let his wife have her way.

"You are riding horseback and that is final Jane Marie Bennet. Now go and change in to that pretty green dress. It will bring out your eyes and Mr. Bingley will fall in love with you instantly," Mrs. Bennet stated as she pulled her daughter from her Jane and pushed her up the stairs.

Mary watched this exchange with worry. What could their mother be thinking sending Jane out in the rain on horseback? She would be getting to Netherfield wet and then develop a cold. Her eldest sister had always had a weaker constitution that the rest of them. Looking down at her unfinished fruit, she pushed the plate back. Her appetite gone, she pushed away from the table, and decided to head up to her bed chamber and fined her book. She did not want her sister's seeing her reading something that was not religious, so it would probably be wise to finish the book curled up in her window seat. Sorting through the books stacked on her night stand, she smiled when she saw the one that she was looking for. Grabbing a small blanket, Mary wrapped it around her as she laid back against the many pillows piled on her window seat.

As she was opening her book to where she left off, a movement outside caught her eye. Gazing out the window, Mary watched as Jane raced Daisy out of the barn. Folding her hands over her book, she prayed that Jane would make it safely to Netherfield.