Chapter 16: Agonies and Letters

It was another journey home with innumerable troubles and glitches. For one thing, Lydia was not in the best of moods and kept shouting at the horseman for driving too fast, thus putting her baby's life in danger. Everyone just wanted to get home and lie down, with a bowl of nice, hot gruel within their reach. These thoughts encompassed a kind of luxury which could diminish the stormy weather of January, but it would have to wait. Several times the couch had to stop, several times Kitty fell asleep on Mary's shoulder, several times Mrs. Bennet declared they needed to buy another carriage.

Mary felt almost excited, if possible, about returning home. In that she was the happiest creature of the family. No evils to torment her in the safety of her room…

'Th-the…Colonel…going to wear the flower…t-tomorrow…kiss…' Kitty mumbled trying to snug closer to Mary who only smiled shaking her head.

'Yes, yes you'll wear the flower and kiss the Colonel.'

Kitty almost giggled. A woman in love was a strange spectacle of intuition meeting feeling, but no one though of that…because there simply were other more important things to consider, such as wedding gown and cake.

Night fell and a heavy rain prickled angrily over the hungry soil. Crows flew by dragging with them winding smokes from chimneys…shapes of strange origins crossed the darkened skies, hay workers ran over the fields like ants retreating to their colonies.

At dawn they had arrived and everyone believed Netherfield had never looked prettier.

A large quilt of snow engulfed the barren lands in a starry whiteness, as if the sky had fallen on earth. Mary couldn't wait to stroll across the meadows and pick up snow in her hands, letting it glide gently between her fingers. She enjoyed the ephemeral iciness of it. The most thrilling sensation was loneliness in winter.

The snow creaked under their feet as they stepped out slowly, one by one, eyeing the fields as if they had come to strange, mythical lands of ancient times. Everyone was surprised, for never had there been so much snow. Surely, it was not even a quarter of what was weighing in the North, yet it still consisted of a large portion of frozen soil.

'Quite a view…'

'We shall need more logs, Mr. Bennet.'

'I wonder if Roberta has made us some pudding…'

'First we'll settle down for some tea, always good for the nerves.'

Voices mixed in the soft chime of the wind which winded smoothly through branches, throwing snowflakes in the air, like lazy butterflies wishing to join the lovely petals of their mistresses. However, they would but fall on the sugary earth, joining their brothers and sisters in painful dissolution.

The hall was dusty and dark, but warm and fairly comfortable. Beyond that lay an adventure that only loyal servants could try to venture on.

The wallpaper shrugged carelessly when its masters entered the parlour, the coffee tables bowed serenely and the windows coughed loudly, letting out a river of soot. However, let not the reader think their dwelling was taken over by cobwebs and dirt, it was merely a state of solitary insolence, rather than actual disparage.

In a couple of days or so everyone knew the house would return to its shrill rhythm.

Mary excused herself and ran to her room pleased, throwing herself on the bed the minute she arrived, falling in a breathless sleep. Piles of books threatened to break down her bedside table and a small wick was melted over the sheets of a newspaper. A pen lay on the floor, weeping silently its painful destiny of being crushed under a maiden's hardened foot.

The sun tried shining shyly through her window, but Mary muttered something inaudible, moving her hand in the air as if wiping all light away and the sun cowered in his sheets once more.

She had no plan of waking up any time soon.

The plot of land in the back garden was not to be attempted, even if it was easier to pass through there in order to get to town. So much snow had fallen from the branches of the trees as well that Mr. Bennet groaned inwardly at the exertion needed to clean the path.

The climate was changing or was he growing older and older? Perhaps both. He looked forward to his daughter's wedding, for, no matter how much he disagreed with Mrs. Bennet's schemes of matches, he could only admit that he felt relieved to know Kitty secure. He trusted the Colonel and admired his modest, yet dignified position. He would tutor his daughter in lessons of life only a husband could give. However, if she was anything like her mother, no teaching would brush off on her.

He sighed. Sighing was taking most of his time, as of late.

'George! George! Come here,' he yelled for one of his hay workers.

'Mr. Bennet, can I be of any use?' Roberta asked as her head popped out of the larder.

'You can tell me where your slothful boy is, Roberta, my dear.'

'Oh, Georgie…he's just run off to town. Told me he had an errand,' she said coyly.

'I see…an errand…perhaps he thought he should plump a lady's carriage cushion. He is so very fond of doing that.'

'Oh, Sir, I shall give him a thrashing, yes Sir, I will…' Roberta replied flustered.

'Oh, do not trouble yourself, woman, it is but natural for a young man not to stay put. Call Joe and his brother to give me a hand with the garden path.'

'Certainly, Sir.'

Mrs. Bennet had listened carefully to all their conversation as she stood by the window, trying to patch one of her shawls. The parlour looked considerably pretty and well-kept, though a large amount of dust still reigned over the room. No one took notice of it and only Kitty sometimes opened a window.

'Your father should stop being amenable to such fellows…I swear, that George is a rotten apple for this family.'

'Perhaps…in any case, he's not the only one. Papa wastes all too much kindness and pennies on many of them,' Lydia spoke bored as she bit into her apple.

'Ah, you've grown so beautiful, my dear, you're blooming,' Mrs. Bennet spoke affectionately. 'The child you are bearing is doing wonders.'

'I haven't yet been witness to one,' she replied somewhat caustically. 'Kitty, are you ready?'

Her scream broke the dreary silence of the house. Mrs. Bennet looked expectantly at the stairs.

'Not yet, I will be down shortly!' they heard her almost expletive reply.

'Ah, a visit shall do us good, I am thoroughly pleased with Mrs. Lucas being so interested in the wedding, no matter how jealous and bitter she might be, poor creature.'

'She's a fool, to want her daughter to marry a petty Colonel.'

'Better than nothing, darling, trust me, some get quite desperate at one point. It is crucial that such allowances are made.'

'A woman should know dignity,' she scoffed.

'If only more thought like you, Lydia dear, but…we cannot expect so of our neighbours.'

Kitty walked down at that moment, fidgeting with her woollen bonnet.

'It's quite ugly…must I wear it, mama?'

'Kitty, how could you ask me this? Certainly you will, do you wish to catch pneumonia and lie in bed for your wedding? Heaven, no.'

'I suppose that is not a pleasant option…is Mary coming as well?'

'Oh, she is not up to it, she said,' Lydia replied.

'Well, of course she is not…sitting up there, sleeping the entire day and reading all sorts of odd things that put schemes in her head. I declare, she hasn't gone out in a week.'

'Sounds as if she's not well,' Kitty spoke unsure.

'Pshaw, it is not that, I checked on her, she is perfectly well, but she has taken to such an idle side…'

'Well, then, let her be, she'll come around, let us go now, before we are too late,' Lydia interfered impatiently.

Mary watched the carriage depart with a pleased sigh. The grounds were white, white and faultless, daintily calling her outside, but she had no taste for it. She looked around her room. So many books opened at different pages, some on her bed, some on the floor…perhaps it was a truthful statement that she was idle. At least she was a witty idler. Her black-raven hair stuck out from all places and she smiled as she saw her slight reflection in a small mirror.

'What could happen today?' she wondered. She felt like reading Dryden, but then it seemed to be a Jonathan Swift day…oh, how tedious!

It had been almost a month since their departure. Three letters from Georgiana were carefully placed under her mattress. All good greetings from her and wishes of being reunited at the wedding, but nothing else of any considerable importance. It was to be noted that she was getting on better terms with her brother, but no apparent improvement had taken place. Lizzie was probably at loggerheads with both of them at times, but such were the trials of a true mistress.

Georgiana had asked for her immediate reply, concerning her attire for the wedding, the occupations she has taken to, the news from Netherfield, news from the Colonel, but Mary, in all this time, had only ventured to write her a small epistle containing only such odd remarks as "I do hope winter lasts for another summer or so" or "A friend is needed in times when books become dusty".

She knew this sort of behaviour would only put her friend out of sorts, but she couldn't help it. Every new day she told herself she'd start anew, with a strict schedule, but she always slept till lunch time and stayed up well past midnight.

'Time for a bite to eat…' she muttered to herself. Pulling her already dishevelled hair in a messy bun she went downstairs, to steal some leftovers from lunch.

As she tiptoed through the kitchen she was called by one of the maids.

'Missus, a letter for ye,' she said bowing as the letter lay placed on a small tray.

Mary took it carelessly and hoped Georgiana would not be too appalled and scandalised by her previous letter.

It was from Mr. Fowler. Her eyes widened and remained so as she tried reading the small writing.

What does he want now?

Dear Miss Bennet,

I am writing to enquire of your health and state of mind, for I have not heard of you for quite a while, nor did I receive any news of you from any of your friends or relatives. I was considerably uneasy. Fortunately, Mr. Darcy was kind enough to notice my distress and gave me your address, in order to call your attention directly.

I hope this isn't too bold of me, but it has been more than a month and I was growing worried. I hope our affairs have remained as they should be and that you have not exacted any kind of act against Miss Anne, after the telling of my previous letter. Perhaps she is faultless and I was the only heathen, a heathen who still seeks redemption. Every day I suffer the dull reprimands of my acts, believe me.

I eagerly hope your heart has softened a bit and that you are not in such pain anymore, not so angry with this poor, foolish man that I am. Again, I am ready to accept that you will not reply to my letter, yet I do hope you shall address me at least some feeble lines, concerning your welfare.

Sincerely,

Harold Fowler

'All this man does is to hope…' she mumbled. 'Oh well.'

She rubbed her eyes listlessly and dropped the letter in a sack of debris from the workers, hidden in the corner.

As she looked out the window she suddenly felt a wave of energy. She didn't know if it was caused by the letter, but, seeing her father trying hard to clear up the garden, she smiled knowingly and putting on a woollen coat, came out to help him.

'Mary, dear, what on Earth are you doing out on this weather?'

'I came to lend a hand,' she said cheerfully as she snatched one of the trowels next to the shed.

The trees bowed politely at her presence as her father steadied himself against the trunk of a birch.

'I never thought you to enjoy such labour…'

'On the contrary…' she muttered as she pulled her sleeves and started digging out the sugary snow.

'Is there something wrong, Mary? Maybe you should go back inside.'

'Not at all, I needed some exercise, this air does me quite well.'

Mr. Bennet only smiled and continued to puff from his pipe.

'Your mother…we'll surely never hear the end of this one…'

'Well, let her then,' she said invigorated as she went on with her work.

'What in God's name is she doing?' Mrs. Bennet almost shrieked as she noticed the slight figure of Mary, covered in snow.

'Oh, goodness, is she digging?' Lydia asked disgusted. 'How very provincial. Is it not?'

'Well, she was mentioning changing her range of activities…' Kitty said as she got out of the carriage.

'How discrepant! Mary Bennet you come here this instant!' Mrs. Bennet yelled.

Mary turned her eyes towards her mother and sighed.

'Let her be, woman, she is helping me,' Mr. Bennet tried unsure.

'Aha! So it was you who decided to make a mockery of this doleful daughter and bid her stand shamelessly in the garden, working like a peasant.'

'No, mama, I simply needed a change of air…' she mumbled meekly.

'Not a word from you! Get inside this instant and take a bath before I throw you in the lake this instant.'

'The snow is clean, mama.'

'So you'd rather be a mucky child?' she inquired angrily. As she came closer her eyes widened. 'What on Earth have you done with your hair? And you come out with such attire...'

Lydia stifled her giggles as she entered the parlour followed by a somewhat distressed Kitty.

'What if there isn't enough time?' she asked worried.

'And what is your care, sister? We shall find you a wedding dress…we shall go into town even morrow if be needed.'

'Very well, but I am sure it will be so crowded and we shall find nothing.'

'Oh, stop your lamenting, I did not have such a splendid wedding dress myself, I had to suffer the wretches of this modest article which could barely enlighten my warm complexion. You will be lucky, father has money to spend on such a…fortunate wedding.'

'What ever do you mean?'

Mary soon followed them, Mrs. Bennet quickly marching beside her.

'And I will have you go upstairs right now and put on something decent! Up, up you go!'

'Oh, dear Mary, are you trying to tempt one of the hay workers? George is in town, if so you wish to know,' Lydia replied cheekily.

Mary blushed furiously and was ready to throw her an icy reply when Mrs. Bennet interrupted flustered.

'You should know better than that, Mary, always make yourself presentable. Who knows what chances there are in the world?'

Mary held back a breath and nodding slowly climbed to her room.

'Oh, but it is only fair! Listen to him, poor soul, he misses me so!' Kitty bellowed fluttering the letter in front of her mother's eyes. The table shook as she sat down again.

The light was dim, but one could notice the faces were all quite listless and impassive, no one had any enthusiasm, not a single reason of true joy.

The only exception was Kitty who was exerting herself beyond reason, grieving for the Colonel who had written her a most distressing letter begging her to "be by my side soon, or I shall sink in a wretched torment".

'Kitty, it is horribly improper to see him before the wedding.'

'How do you mean? We shall see each other only when we meet at church?'

'Quite so, it is only protocol, why, your father and I did not much see of each other until we married.'

'And now we perceive the consequences of that…' Mary spoke silently, but no one heard her.

Mr. Bennet scratched his chin pensively, sipping from his old cup of wine. He was slightly worried that Kitty's dowry would be quite frugal. From all his adding and multiplying, he could make out a pretty sum for her as well. Trouble was, with Lydia on their hands again, it would be much harder to provide for her as well.

He was sure Lydia had spent all the money she and Wickham had held in possession and feared to make her responsible for one single penny.

'Mama, I entreat you, it is absolutely heinous!'

'Heinous or not, you shall respect the rules of conduct…it is for the best, my dear.'

'Come now, Kitty, there will be enough affection to be given at the nuptials, you shall compensate for these many days in agony.'

Mary and Mrs. Bennet both choke on their food as they glanced at Lydia incredulously.

Mr. Bennet had let this proof of indolence slip, as he was completely immersed in his own thoughts, but Kitty blushed so hard that even her grey dress turned crimson. She buried her head in her bosom and did not say one more word.

'Lydia, dear…how good of you to…support your sister. However, there are more important things to consider than the Colonel. After all, Netherfield Hall will need great preparations to be ready for such event. The Darcys and the Bingleys will be there, it must look worthy of such guests.'

'Dear woman, those are your relatives you speak of,' Mr. Bennet replied amused.

'And what of it? We can show them the Bennets are capable of throwing grand, opulent Balls as well. Anything for our daughter…we cannot simply let it go to waste. And to think that only some time ago Jane met Mr. Bingley there...'

'The place shall be marked with our name forever,' Lydia said bored.

'Now, I've talked things over with Mrs. Lucas and she suggested that we hire four couches for our neighbouring guests, for the rest of them can just come by their own means, I certainly shan't busy myself for them all.'

'Sounds quite sensible…' Mr. Bennet mumbled absently.

'Also, she mentioned using only partially silver china, since no one will take much notice of it, everyone will be too occupied with the newly weds,' she spoke excited. 'So we can put the silverware only at the first two tables, of the groom and bride and their families.'

'Quite tartly, if you ask me…' Kitty finally spoke crossed.

'Do you have a better suggestion, Kitty, dear?'

'Yes, let us invite the Colonel for a family dinner, before the wedding,' she said rapidly.

'Oh, how improper, Kitty! Who has ever heard of such a thing? A dinner before the wedding? Certainly not.'

'Then I shall not help at all with the ceremony…'

'Oh, that reminds me, we must rush to town immediately for the dress…'

'I've been meaning to say that, mama,' Lydia said drowsily as she swallowed another spoonful of food.

Mary looked down at the letter in her hands. She considered adding one more line when she went up to her room.

Thus, Georgiana, my mother and sisters argue incessantly over this obnoxious event which has turned into a race for lavish…rather than a triumph of love.

Dear Miss Bennet,

Another three weeks have passed until I last wrote to you and it is dawning close on spring, though but middle of February yet. I say so for my own lands show signs of revival, of such sweet joy dedicated to the glowing sun, bearing its light stronger each day.

I was quite worried and hoped you had perhaps written to me a line and I should not have received it, a thing which would have distre-…

Mary crumpled the paper and tried to bend it in order to make those beautiful shapes she had seen Lizzie do at times. Some resembled a swan, others a sparrow, others a rabbit, others a peacock. But she had no talent for origami. In the end, she only obtained a small ball of parchment.

She opened her window and threw it out, watching it fly briefly in the wind before falling on the slushy ground.

'Hm…not very aerodynamic…'

'Oh, no, quite distasteful thing! My bridesmaids must look their best, Mary, do please try to find something better.'

'We have been in this damned shop for more than four hours and Lydia has not even decided on the shoes,' she spoke grimly. 'Do you know how much time we've wasted on all this?'

'I don't want to know, some things must be done, Mary. No matter how tedious.'

'Like marrying? I suppose so.'

Kitty hit her playfully on the shoulder. 'Stop mocking me, I derive no joy from this if the Colonel is not here…'

She looked out the window. The shop was half-full, the streets were hollow as she watched some ironmongers trying to lift a cart full of old horseshoes.

Life was dreary outside a shop. The air was still.

'Now, really, slip out of that dull blue thing,' Kitty spoke again.

'Very well then, but don't think I will find something better…' she said languidly trying to get up from her chair.

'Mary! Come quickly and aid me pull this dress…Quick! It's stuck!' Lydia called angrily and her sister could only comply.

When she arrived at the far end of the shop she saw Lydia bellowing at another lady who was eagerly trying to prove a point.

'I saw it first, it is mine and I shall wear it!'

'My dear lady, it does not even fit you, one should not wear such tight things when bearing…'

'Mary, come here this instant and help me do it up! I will prove to you I can fit in any dress with little effort.'

Poor Lydia was trying to squeeze into an awful yellow satin dress, exorbitant in price and tasteless in design.

"It was only three nights ago that I saw Theodore for the last time. He had to leave, for it was dangerous to remain, so he will depart once more. I cannot expect him to return in another two weeks as he usually does, this time he will not be able. His sister is terribly ill and I fear that poor creature will expire and he shall blame himself eternally for it…and I as well. For believe me, I do understand I might be a cause of distress…but I am quite selfish, I admit. He is such a wonderful human being, so desirous to make me happy!
It saddens me so that no one but you can know of him and no one but I must suffer for his leave…"

Mary reread Georgiana's letter and her eyes remained stuck on this paragraph which could only make her uneasy. Was her friend encouraging the young man too much? Was she forming such schemes in her head that were only…illusions? She couldn't know, she could not yet judge and this lack of knowledge troubled Mary. Usually, she could form an opinion of the situation, but now everything was in a blur and she loathed the fact that she couldn't aid her companion. It also bothered her that Mr. Darcy was so ignorant of his sister's infatuation and she didn't think Theodore was quite trustworthy yet.

As she blew her candle the feeble stars illuminated her small corner. The weather had improved, the night was sweeter to bear. She lay awaken, eyes wide open, pondering whether tomorrow would be as dreadful as the day that had passed.

Perhaps not. Surely, her sister's wedding would be joyous, she told herself.

Tomorrow, Kitty would cease to be a Bennet. What a sad feeling erupted in her heart, she would lose a sister. It never really hit her that she'd remain alone, with Lydia as companion, but as the thought finally started to sink in she couldn't help but groan in agony.

Mary considered Lizzie and Jane had already arrived and were staying in town, for there weren't enough rooms in the house to receive them all properly. Georgiana was not very far from her, but this last letter, made her feel she was a thousand miles away.

She chuckled when she considered Mrs. Bennet had envisaged a dinner after the wedding, inviting all the family, yet even she admitted her dining room could never endure such a feat. Neither could she.

She imagined the Colonel walking up and down his room at this moment, alert and restless, fidgeting carelessly with his cuffs as he wiped his sweat. For a brief moment, she feared Mr. Fowler had come as well. The terror was not slight, Mary shook her head in disbelief and remembered she had not even opened the fourth letter he had sent her.

Such were the thoughts occupying her mind, not letting her shut an eye, not letting her be at rest.