Chapter 3: Maybe

Anne de Bourgh leaned against a tall oak as she surveyed the green estate. A black bird shot through the sky, but she could not name it. She knew she was ignorant, but she didn't care. She did not need to be aware of anything around her.

Slowly she opened her blue satin bag and fished some tobacco from it, holding it between her small white fingers.

Anne waited a bit and then slowly started chewing the tobacco. The physician would probably prescribe some valerian and she couldn't help smiling peevishly at the thought of being relieved again.

'It is a sad business…I'll never get out of here. Though it is not my intention to leave,' she mumbled to herself and turned to leave.

The sound of carriage wheels made her stop in her track and turn round. She walked fast to see who had arrived and lost her bonnet on the way, but did not bother to retrieve it. The carriage stopped in front of the entrance and a servant was already waiting on the gentleman who had exited it.

Anne quickly pretended to walk slowly and feebly again, drawing her eyes and yawning sickly.

The gentleman had a long waistcoat and leather boots, white breeches and a dark green, velvet shirt. His golden rimmed spectacles which he put into his pocket gave him a demure look and his snowy lapels showed the work of a loyal housemaid. His entire apparel, while not eccentric or brash was elegant and poised.

The gentleman frowned slightly as he took in his surroundings and his green eyes sparkled with intelligence as he ran a hand through his auburn locks.

Anne followed him inside and knowing the house well, took her reveries in another place, climbing a solitary flight of stairs which led to her private rooms.

The gentleman was presented into Lady Catherine's drawing room and there he bowed to the floor politely in front of his relative.

'Mr. Fowler. You have arrived. I am most pleased you have hurried your visit. I was most anxious to hear that one of my cousin's sons was not completely lost to my knowledge, like all the other nephews or nieces who have either forgotten or never known of me,' the Lady said, wanting the speech to sound dramatic, but rendering it cold and arrogant.

'Lady Catherine, I am overjoyed to find some comfort in a relative, since I have no other family and I will be much pleased to stay at Rosings as long as you wish,' the gentleman responded in the same cold tones.

Both smiled placidly and tea was brought in.

'Now, you must make your account sound clearer to me, for in your letters I could not discern much of your past or present condition. Your history is not to be written, it is to be told,' she said a degree warmer.

'I would be most happy to oblige…'

Anne watched them from a distant corner of the room, where the shadows hid the small door through which she peered.

'Oafish fools…' she mumbled closing the door.

Lizzie and her sisters were occupying themselves in the drawing room as they expected the coming Ball. Kitty and Jane were trimming some dresses and Mary was trying to write a letter to Lydia. Elizabeth was the only one with no clear object as she looked out the window wistfully.

'Lizzie, when will Georgiana come?' Kitty asked.

'That I do not know Kitty. She is still in Bath.'

Silence fell once again.

'Are you done with that letter?' Kitty asked Mary impatiently.

Mary scowled and turned towards her sister sprinkling her with ink.

'I have nothing much to tell Lydia…in any case, she asked a letter from you and you made me write it, sister, because you are too listless and provoked to write to such "an ungrateful sister"…probably the most petty excuse you could come up with.'

'Oh, you are so tedious…please do finish the letter. You can even tell her I think she's ungrateful…and tell her to take good care of Mr. Wickham. Oh and do ask her why he got wounded, poor man.'

Mary rolled her eyes and ended her letter. She looked at it again, but had no time to go over it since Kitty snatched it rapidly and put it beside her.

'Girls, feast your eyes on this!' Mrs. Bennet, who had just entered the drawing room, spoke in high tones.

'Mama, what has happened?' asked Jane, but an invitation was placed on the small coffee table as Mrs. Bennet smiled victoriously.

All girls glanced at it curiously. The first thing they noticed were the red, cursive letters written upon it.

'Mr. Fowler,' murmured Mary. 'Mr. Bingley invited him?'

'It seems so. He has been in Kent these past three days, staying at Rosings! Mr. Bingley recently paid a visit there, at the Lady's orders, to meet her nephew and soon established some sort of amity between them which rendered him to invite Mr. Fowler to the Ball. And we do hope he'll stay with us more!'

'Where did you acquire this news, mama?' Jane asked surprised.

'Why, from Mr. Bingley himself. I found the invitation that was not necessary anymore, since he had invited Mr. Fowler in person and I demanded explanations from him even though he had meant to keep it a secret.'

'Mama, that is terribly impolite…' Mary said tiredly, lounging on the soft sofa.

'Pshaw! I had all the rights to know about this, after all, he is Lady Catherine's relative and single too…'

Lizzie smiled ironically to Jane. Kitty grinned dreamily and played with the invitation a long time.

'Mr. Prowler…Mr. Fowler….they do rhyme, don't they?'

'Yes…and based on that you'll pick your future husband,' Mary said closing her eyes.

'There's no time for naps, Marry!' Kitty said hitting her sister softly with her fan.

'Kitty, remove that useless object from my sight and pray find something to do,' Mary said reaching for a book on the floor.

'You shall not!' Kitty threatened and took the book from her hand running out of the drawing room.

'Kitty, give it back,' Mary said getting up and following her sister.

They both reached a solitary corridor, full of light. Kitty was panting from having run as ringlets of hair fell in her face.

'What would Mr. Bingley think of us running like that? It's absolutely silly. Catherine, I demand you give me my book.'

'And why should you have it?' Kitty smiled holding the book high up in the air, where Mary couldn't reach, her sister being taller.

Kitty was laughing full-heartedly at seeing Mary's feeble attempts of getting the book, but her joy was short-whiled for Mr. Prowler, reaching from behind, snatched the object and held it in his hands.

'Mr. Prowler! I didn't see you coming,' Kitty giggled.

'Confessions, by Jean-Jacques Rousseau, interesting choice of lecture Miss Bennet,' he smiled.

'Oh, sir, I always enjoy a bit of lecture, it is one of my favourite books indeed,' Kitty smiled sweetly.

Mary frowned and took the book out of Mr. Prowler's hands, bowed politely and hurried to her room.

'Oh, she probably will put it in my stack, she took it from there. And what was I supposed to do? I couldn't let her have it…so I managed to tease my sister a little.'

James looked at the prickles of sweat gliding down her collarbone as her eyes sparkled with exercise.

'Miss Bennet, you must think greatly of your books if you do not share them with your sister,' he smiled cynically and shook his head amused.

'Oh, I do, why I couldn't live to know someone had one of my books in their possession.'

He held her hand chuckling as Kitty removed her fan from the floor.

She turned towards the gentleman, but he had already disappeared.

Mr. Bingley stood over some papers, fully engrossed in his work as James leaned against the window next to the desk.

The study was warm and smelled of cinnamon as wood crackled in the fireplace. Autumn was near and the green forests and hills had already started to turn copper-red much to his delight as he liked this season.

'I think I am almost done…now Mr. Tree will not bother me anymore about those depositions,' Charles smiled warmly.

'James…' he started as he put his quill in his ink bottle, 'what are your intentions in regards to Kitty Bennet?'

James, who had been day-dreaming, woke up with a frown and looked at Charles confused.

'What do you mean, Charles? I think her one of the prettiest and most amiable creatures I've met.'

'Do you really? My wife has expressed her concern about this new attachment. She does not wish her sister to be disappointed.'

'Your wife has nothing to fear. Only a warm friendship ties me to Miss Bennet.'

'And pray, how warm is that friendship?' Mr. Bingley asked laughing.

There was a long pause.

'Time will reveal this…if Miss Bennet harbours the same feelings for me after a certain period of time I shall be most happy to respond…if I should feel inclined.'

'So you mean to say that only a little time renders your amorous affair with her possible?'

'How devilish you speak…but in a nutshell, yes, I think so,' he replied smiling.

'Then I am most happy for her, because she couldn't have managed a better partner.'

Mary was fuming as she walked about her room.

'Oh, I wish to go home…' she mumbled. She couldn't understand her current mood, for never had Kitty's little tricks upset her. Not even the teasing and the offences made any impression on her.

'Could it be the Ball?' she paused to reflect. 'I always have terrible fits about such occasions…'

She remembered how she used to detest Balls and how she used to make a mockery of herself.

'But this time you shall not sing,' she said firmly. 'It will be much better.'

Someone knocked on the door.

'Mary, can I come in?' Jane's voice was heard in the corridor.

'Certainly,' replied Mary wiping her forehead.

'Are you alright, Mary? Did Kitty upset you so?' Jane asked as she entered the room and sat on the bed.

'Nay, it has nothing to do with her. I assure you, I am perfectly well. Is that the reason you have come?'

'One of them, yes. The other is that Colonel Fitzwilliam called in to offer us a ride in his phaeton to see more of the district and I promised we would not refuse such an invitation.'

'Mr. Fitzwilliam? The poor man….'

'Whatever do you mean Mary?'

'Well…he simply wishes to catch Catherine's attention, but she will not allow it.'

'Oh…' Jane smiled sadly. 'But then perhaps this might be his chance. You and your sister should go with him at once.'

'I suppose you are right,' Mary smiled.

'I do not understand why we must go out on such a windy day,' Kitty moaned displeased as she walked into the Hall to meet Colonel Fitzwilliam.

'For the same reason you wanted Mr. Prowler to teach you to swim in the lake,' Mary replied ironically.

Mr. Fitzwilliam smiled warmly at Kitty and helped her get in the phaeton as Mary watched them carefully.

They drove silently across meadows, Mary trying to converse politely with the Colonel as Kitty remained silent in her corner, watching the nature dreamily.

'How are you enjoying your stay Miss Catherine?' he asked her at length.

'It is tolerable, for I have good friends…'she replied silently.

'And you do count the Colonel as one of your friends Kitty…' Mary said smiling.

'I suppose so, you are very kind Colonel…'she replied distantly.

After some minutes the wind started howling with intensity and they made to turn back.

'As I have said, this wasn't a day appropriate for this,' Kitty said eyeing the Colonel.

His face turned into such a sad sight of sufferance that she couldn't help laughing and brushing his hand quickly.

'Do not bother yourself so for my whims.'

Kitty adored flirting and to be admired so she believed she could allow herself this little incident since she already thought herself fully engaged to Mr. Prowler.

The Colonel smiled shyly and turned towards Mary who was holding her handkerchief under her nose as she had sneezed because of the draught.

'Pray, do not catch a cold because of me, Miss Bennet.'

He had barely finished when a gallop was heard very near them and indeed, a gentleman riding a black stallion crossed them.

The Colonel stopped the phaeton quickly.

'Sir, I advise you to be careful with your vehicle on such weather,' the man replied coldly looking at the party with his green eyes frowning.

Mary and Kitty watched him silently as another gush of wind stormed the Colonel's hat off.

'Thank you Sir, for your good contrivance,' the Colonel replied.

'Good day, Ladies,' he said flatly and pulled his horse out of their way.

'How rude!' Kitty exclaimed. 'Are you alright, Colonel?' she said giving him his hat.

'Quite so, thank you Miss Bennet,' he replied happily for having secured the attention of Kitty by this meeting.

Mary leaned into the phaeton and looked back but could only see the dust rising in twisting circles and hear the fast gallop of the horse. A yellow leaf fell into her lap and she picked it up and blew it in the wind.

Only then did she realise that her handkerchief, that had her name embroidered in gold on it, had disappeared.

Kitty wanted to get out and collect some leaves and the Colonel stopped, happy to comply with Miss Bennet's wishes.

Mary searched for her handkerchief in vain. It was as if the Earth had swallowed it and she felt sorry she could never have it back again. Sighing she joined her sister who was showing the Colonel all the colours and shades that autumn had left behind.

When they returned home Kitty had her cheeks flushed, Mary wore a bitter smile on her lips and the Colonel was in such high spirits that he accepted the invitation to dinner, though he had planned to return immediately to his lodgings.

No one mentioned the meeting with the gentleman at dinner and Mary could but curse her luck as Kitty talked gregariously with Mr. Prowler and Mr. Fitzwilliam.

'Miss Bennet, I have received some interesting news from London,' the Colonel addressed her after a while, delving into one of their usual chats.

'Pray tell me Sir, if it is of interest to me.'

'And it is, I dare say, for the Militia are going to Ireland to calm the spirits that have gathered there. It seems a sort of social revolt of the working class has broken out what with the opening of the Belfast Botanic Gardens. It is a mild one, they say, barely noticeable, but we cannot afford such risks.'

'Oh, quite something…I suppose Mr. Wickham will be going to Ireland then,' Mary replied.

'Yes, I guessed as much as that and I hope he will get out of it safe.'

'So do I,' she said flatly.

Later in the evening, as they all sat in the spacious drawing room, Kitty engaged in a game of dominoes with Mr. Prowler, Lizzie and Jane discussing silently by the fire, Mr. Darcy and Charles playing chess and Mary reading the newspaper to find more about the Militia, the servant announced Caroline Bingley had arrived at last.

Everyone looked up with tiredness and Charles rushed out of the room to greet his sister. Her suave yet acid voice could be heard in the Hall, calling to see Mr. Darcy and "dear Miss Elizabeth".

'Ah, she'll entertain herself so, trying to call me Mrs. Darcy,' Lizzie said following her husband to meet Caroline.

The rain started falling outside and Kitty wondered briefly if the Colonel had arrived at his lodgings safely, but quickly discarded the thought as she laughed sweetly at an impertinent joke of James'.

Mary frowned and threw the newspaper in the fire as she got up to go to bed, not wanting to see Mr. Bingley's sister.