Chapter 18: A Fair Wedding part 2

Mary stood there, transfixed for some minutes before she attempted to move. Let no one be deceived, she was by no means impressed or too agitated, she was simply in deep thought. And when Mary Bennet took up thinking too hard, the world around her would disappear and she would find herself only in the cluster of her ideas.

Yet, even though she rememorized all his words she could not make out some of their meaning.

'It's not like I have found out a great deal…' she muttered to herself. 'The matter is still shadowed.'

She gave Lydia a brief glance. She was almost lying in her chair, eating pudding after pudding, though her mother, who came by once in a while, warned her she would spoil her dinner.

This business is known to her as well, yet I can never really find a way to discuss it with her. It's really silly…to have the answers right in front of you, but not to be able to see them.

I am sure that, as he said, both made mistakes, but what mistakes exactly? And why cannot they be fixed? I understand the utter dislike, but the causes and reasons…If he did force Lydia into something, what did she do to him to make him do so? If he harmed her, how did she harm him?

Probably Wickham had something to do with it too. A man who takes good care of his wife wouldn't allow some things to transpire under his roof, especially cases of adultery.

'Miss! Excuse me, miss!'

Mary jumped at the shrill voice which interrupted her train of thoughts.

She turned rather cross. A young man with a shock of red hair, standing up like the needles of a hedgehog and a tight waistcoat that left no room for air was staring at her a bit confounded.

'Yes?'

'My partner and I do not have enough room…would you mind stepping away from the dancing quarter for a while?'

She noticed he was hanging on fervently to a younger lady with the same red hair and odd look.

Mary blushed self-consciously and turned embarrassed, leaving in a rush.

The couple still stared after her, for a while.

She noticed the guests were quite agitated and impatient for the wedding dinner to start, which would be an opportunity for some old patronesses to gather and share their news and gossip, for some ladies to find good seats next to fair friends or amiable gentlemen and for some keen mothers like hers to brag on and on about her girls' success in marriage.

It was not a pleasant affair for her, since she had no one to really converse with and she would probably have to entertain people like Mrs. Long, which would not bother her if that mentioned lady ever bothered to listen to her.

Of Mr. Prowler she saw nothing of, as she moved around the Ball Room and she suspected he had kept his word and had retired with Mr. Darcy, but why and where was beyond her. Suffice to say, she did not see him anymore and that was a relief, for his witty lines sometimes made her be at a loss for words and she loathed not being able to reply to someone of his statute.

It would be a tedious afternoon, evening and night, as she had predicted, for there was no sign of enjoyment. Once or twice she passed her sisters who were engaged with Charlotte and the abhorrent Mr. Collins.

At length, she even conversed with the Lucases, who were all gathered, with the exception of Maria, who was lying sick in bed. Mary only smiled sadly knowing right away what a blatant lie that was. She owed it to herself that Kitty had by no means been kind to her, but Maria Lucas was not exactly an angel herself.

When she did manage to break away from the Lucases she decided to take up that walk she had intended to go on before Mr. Prowler had interrupted her, but once again, upon being close to her destination she had another surprise.

A pair of small, white hands encircled her eyes.

'Guess who it is,' the soft voice said.

'If I do, may I be able to turn and hug my dear friend?'

Mary and Georgiana greeted each other with utmost warmth as they kissed each other tenderly. There had been months since they had last spoken and there was much to make up for.

Miss Darcy looked wonderful as always, though a tad pale, what with all her distress for Theodore's departure and his sister's illness. Not to mention, she felt caged at home, not being able to talk to any sensible creature of her kind. Lizzie was simply too busy and her brother…it was not even to be tried.

Her dress was very fine and her hair fell in ringlets candidly on her shoulders, making her look very fragile, but Mary knew Georgiana Darcy was a fierce and obstinate girl when needed.

'Why have you come so late?'

'Oh, it was such a silly affair! I had to wait on Miss Bancroft for more than an hour and her brother too! I told them we would be late, but they wouldn't hear of it. They are such stuck-up prudes sometimes, concerned so much about the propriety of their looks, though they are very amiable and good-natured indeed, if you talk to them you'll see right away how at ease they are among friends. Conversation is really their skill.'

'Who are Miss Bancroft…and Mr. Bancroft?'

'Oh, what a fool I am, I haven't told you! They are very close friends of the Colonel, you know. Mr. Bancroft, Jonathan is his name, was almost made lieutenant some years ago and was commanding in line with Fitzwilliam. They were most of the times in each other's company and helped each other a great deal, but the Colonel saved Jonathan's life once and since then he has tried paying him back with all the care of a good friend.'

'Indeed! Saved his life? Not on battle field I hope?'

'Oh, nothing of the sort! He saved him from drowning four summers ago when he had tried to cross the river carelessly, on horseback. The Colonel is a splendid swimmer, but poor Jonathan doesn't have such great constitution. In any case, he hasn't attempted crossing water ever since.'

'Quite a story…I see now why he was invited and why he came.'

'Yes, we've just been here an hour or so, but I already lost them, though they are easily identified, they have quite singular looks.'

'An hour has passed since you came? Heavens, quite a while, but in this crowd…'

'As you can see, I am just as pleased about that as you are. Well, we will find the Bancrofts when we are seated at dinner and I shall point them out to you and make all the acquaintances necessary. Until then, we'd better not stay here in the Hall any longer, the draughts can have terrible consequences on young ladies, such as ourselves.'

'It is best if we find a silent corner to chat, but I do not foresee that to be a successful mission,' Mary added bitterly as they were almost pushed aside by a gaggle of young ladies that looked more like geese in their white muslins.

Mary had been right about the two gentlemen; Mr. Darcy had led Mr. Prowler to an upstairs chamber that was secure from any unwanted guest for it was secluded and quite uncomfortable for anyone seeking to rest.

The first gentleman was quite stiff, he always was when dealing with business, the latter simply kept a straight face, though he would attempt a smile from time to time; he knew well Darcy did not trust him.

'Please be seated…we have some wine here…' he spoke as he reached for the goblet on the table to pour in the glasses.

'There's no need, thank you,' added Prowler politely as he sat down.

The sun was throwing its crimson rays over the surrounding fields, as the sun was setting rather early for its time. Still, there was promise of at least two more hours of light.

'I did not predict you would come, Mr. Prowler, I was under the impression you were quite busy in London.'

'And I am, to be honest, but I prefer travelling and being active to sedentary work in my office. Not to mention that I wish to prove that I can be of service to you, Mr. Darcy.'

'And why would you want to do that?'

'You are not only relative of Charles, but also…as most of us top-hat fellows like to think, a potential client. You treat your subordinates well, you care for your friends and you would deal with men of the law in very proper ways. Respect and collaboration are hard to find, especially in London, believe me.'

Darcy chuckled and took a sip of wine.

'I appreciate your honesty and pragmatism. It is good for a man such as yourself to combine superior feelings and morals with profane advantages and goals.'

'I am glad to know your opinion of me, Sir, is only slightly above the truth.'

'If it is so or not only I can judge later on. Now, tell me all you have found out.'

Mr. Prowler smiled and placed his map on the table. Some sheets were spread out of it.

'The name you gave me was, I'm afraid useless. Mr. Buddley, we believe, is no longer residing in London. You were informed that he was the man who took care of your properties and that is correct, but he is no longer to be found.'

'But that does not concern me so, I suppose if…'

'It does concern you because…you didn't know what the man did.'

'Oh, I do know he sold one of the properties, I told him to do so, because paying for it was tedious enough, so I had it so that the money from it be invested in stocks…shipments mostly.'

'I see…but with the war those stocks failed you, didn't they?'

'He paid me back 5000 pounds, in case you must know.'

James laughed bitterly.

'Did you ever check the amount lost and the profit he got out of the shipments these past two years since the coast was freed for commerce?'

Darcy paused and looked down put out.

'I admit I …didn't look much into the affair…as of late, I've had other things on my mind.'

'I don't blame you, there's enough work here and you've got a charming wife…but the fact remains that he owed you 30000 pounds or more, if we add the interest.'

Darcy frowned and clenched his fists. 'I guessed…it would be much.'

'And I'd be quite relieved if that were all…' added Mr. Prowler. 'See, I have been doing some research and some sleuthing on my own, as they say and I'm afraid Mr. Buddley hasn't fled from London just because he owed you all that money.'

Darcy looked up with a pained look in his eye.

'Curses…what did he do?'

'I'm afraid, Sir, that your other property has not remained intact. In fact…' he said taking out a parchment, 'I believe that it isn't even yours anymore, though illegal…but we can't prove that yet, now, can we?'

'What in God's name are you talking about?'

'Well…these things cannot be said in a nutshell, so I shall elaborate thoroughly. Mr. Buddley was in a state of crisis when the war was at its peak, what with the failure at the stock exchange…so he turned everywhere for money. He was rather afraid of you, if I might add, but seeing as you neglected most of your affairs in London, that fear diminished in time and arrived to a point where he was certain he could try something a bit more adventurous. He had four daughters, all to marry and loved them deeply. Unlike Mr. Bennet, he would go to all lengths to secure them great husbands. Those husbands came at a price.

In addition to this, his wife died and her brother demanded money from him. He was a desperate man.'

'How do you know so much of this?'

James smiled pleased. 'It is my job, to know, Mr. Darcy. As I was saying, he tried something…more advantageous and profitable.'

Darcy gave him a mortified look. 'Please don't tell me…'

'I'm afraid yes. He did venture…on such fields.'

'So, the black market I gather?'

'Something like it, but not exactly. See, our friend here isn't that clever for that.'

'Alright…just tell me what he did.'

'Well, you'd better take a deep breath. Mr. Buddley has very pretty daughters, not plain at all. I think it's from the mother, he is not well…what one would call handsome. But one of his daughters in particular, Hannah, is quite breath-taking. I saw a likeness of her some months ago and I can see why so many gentlemen loved her so.

In any case, she attracted the looks of a…very dangerous man, if I can say so myself. A Mr. Morel. I gather you do not know him. He is a simple bank clerk, or so it is thought, but in truth, he is one of the most influential figures of the black market. He is not running the bank officially, because he believes too much public exposure will lead to his downfall. Smart fellow, at that. Yet, his brother is Judge Laurel Morel of the High Court, he has cousins in the marine, many sergeant friends and public officials who do him many services regarding stately affairs and two sisters who married Baronets. Safe to say, he is a noble rat. And it just happened so, that one of the craftiest men in London fell for the charms of Hannah Buddley, the town flirt. Her beauty befuddled him like nothing else, though he is prone to become so enamoured often. He is quite the womanizer. This time he knew what he wanted, he was aiming to have her at all costs. The trouble was Hannah, darling girl was in love with a teacher, a Mr. Cartson, I believe. Her father begged her leave this fancy behind and accept the numerous advances of Mr. Morel, but she would not consent. Like I have mentioned, Mr. Buddley loved his daughters so much and was so frightened by his wife that he dared not say much when they all objected to this union. Mr. Buddley tried reasoning with Mr. Morel, but it would not do. He tried to persuade him to choose another one of his daughters, but he knew well only money tempted him more. A big scandal ensued…Morel made sure Buddley fell to complete poverty and bankruptcy…so much so that his wife died in the course of a year. He was beyond being saved.

Morel promised him Hannah would not see the day she married…and so Buddley was forced to offer him, in exchange for his and his daughter's peace your property in south of London.

Amazingly enough, Morel accepted, which made both father and daughter more than happy, they did not even fear you would find out.

You had left the ownership papers to him and he, surely, gave them all to Morel who was more than glad to stack them well. It's obvious now that Morel accepted the house being fully aware it was yours; he hoped he could squeeze more money out of your family, since the Darcys are quite well seen in London. He forged a set of new ownership papers, he can well do that what with all his relations in Court. All I can say is that I hope he hasn't destroyed the original ownership documents. If he has…well it will be a very difficult case…he's a strong man. If he were nobody, we could do this easily…or at least, we could do it.'

Mr. Prowler finally stopped and took a breath. He disliked talking so much.

Darcy was in a miserable state as he sat hunched over the table, with his forehead in his palms.

'Let him be damned…but it is not all his fault, if I had been more careful…'

'There's no use being sorry now.'

'I must go to London at once.'

James hesitated.

'Perhaps that is not the best way to go about it. Mr. Morel would know immediately and he would either destroy the documents if he hasn't already or cause you a great deal of trouble by trying to bargain with you for the property.'

Darcy nodded confused and poured himself another glass of wine.

'What about the State archives?'

'I knew you'd breach that…I was meaning to add…I instantly thought of that too and tried checking, but the documents I am in search of are placed under strict security under the order of the Court. So…you might understand from this that Morel took precautions…However, we can try harder. But I did not mention this since I think we can do it some other way. After all, the archives are more useful, in this case, when we have your original ownership papers and we can confront them in Court with his fake ones. Only then, can it be solved. Not even his brother can do anything about that. It can go as high as to the King.'

'You are right…you know more of it…'

'I will, nevertheless, pursue the archives further…but we'll have to have another plan as well, if you really want to win this.'

Some minutes passed in silence and both meditated over the spoken words. At length James spoke.

'May I ask something, Sir?'

'Speak…'

'Why are you so bent on that plot of land? Dealing with a fellow like Morel is quite nasty. I would try to put it out of my head, if I were you. If you want to bargain with him…well, you'll be in for a lot of surprises.'

Mr. Darcy rose agitated and settled the glass down. He started pacing the room fidgeting as if he was facing his wife in a tetchy mood.

'Well…I suppose I can trust you on this. Charles already knows…I'm surprised he has not told you.'

'I am all ears, Sir.'

'I can summarise it by saying…my father had a great deal of debts.'

James raised an eyebrow surprised.

'Yes, I had the same reaction. A man of his propriety and good breadth…you wouldn't think of it, would you? Neither could I. Mother had no idea, no one did. It seems the deceased Mr. Wickham didn't become addicted to gambling on his own.'

Here he faltered and turned away.

'My father…had gotten tired of life at one point and sometimes went off on some mad escapades. He took Wickham with him…they went gambling…and in search of women, the lowest entertainment possible, in any case. That's how Wickham got his taste for gambling. Father was old, he got out of it easily…, but the other was young. I somehow find myself guilty for it. For a while, when we were young lads around sixteen, I pushed Wickham away, wanting to delve into some solitary activities. Perhaps…that's why he chose my father's company so often.'

'I don't think you should blame yourself, Mr. Darcy. At sixteen, he should have been conscious enough to understand some things, if you say he was brought up just like you were. If you did not go astray, he shouldn't have either.'

'Perhaps…but it was my own father who embittered his life! I know he was of bad sort, but so was my father…or he was simply bored with life.

Nevertheless, the debts kept multiplying and he hid them very well, until it reached a dangerous point. That is when…'

Here he stopped and sat down once again, feeling quite dejected as he tried to calm himself.

'That is when he supposedly took too much valerian and died. We all thought it was a terrible accident. He was alone in Manchester and we thought he had been helpless. Now, I am more and more persuaded he did it on purpose. However, that does not matter now. What matters is that for quite a while now I tried paying most of his debts. With his grand fortune came all the responsibilities. But…as of late, I've been running out of money and the debts keep pouring in. I was hoping my properties could perhaps save me from this encumbrance.'

James looked at him with a sad look in his eye. He thought the Darcys could never have problems with money…now it seemed a bleak future awaited them…and Mr. Darcy was right, those properties could help.

With the 30000 pounds he had a right to from his early property and his house in south of London he could disentangle himself from these grey affairs.

Yet it seemed impossible ever to recover them. James smirked. He loved challenges.

'I understand now. I understand perfectly well. Mr. Darcy…I can't promise you much, but …even though I said Morel is too powerful, he has his weaknesses and I still have some tricks up my sleeve. If there's anything I can do, I'll do it. I promise that you won't come out of this with nothing.'

'I don't have much hope, but what is left I'll put it in you. If you manage to do this, Mr. Prowler, I assure you, you will not leave my house empty-handed and you shall always have a place of respect here.'

James smirked and bowed as he got up.

'Of that I am sure…'

Mrs. Bennet was tiring herself calling everyone to dinner and her fashion of summoning them was so daring, that most ladies didn't even consider obeying.

At length, the valets pitied her enough to ring the bells and everyone gathered towards the two dining rooms, for only one would have never been enough. And even so, most young people were expected to have a bite to eat in the ball rooms.

'I do feel like a herd of cattle right now…' Georgiana said amused.

'And you would have too honourable a position…from the looks of it, the right term is pigs since we are about to stuff our faces.'

'Always looking on the bright side, I see…'

'I see the glass empty…this way it's easier to wash.'

Now the true fit was to find places for the both of them. Mrs. Bennet was close by, so they knew they would do well to rush, since she was apt to find them unwanted table partners.

The crowd was giving them both a headache and they were considering giving up and finding some secluded cards room where they could take some cups of tea and some bread and butter when, just as luck would have it, Georgiana spotted the Bancrofts. There was a seat left free next to them and before thinking much about it she scurried to them and placed herself there happily.

Mary tried to follow but there was no place left. She then recognized the offended couple who had peered at her oddly in the Ball Room.

The red hair stood out and shone brightly. Georgiana looked at her mortified and tried searching for a seat for her friend, yet nothing was available. Her selfishness usually was overbearing, even though she often berated herself terribly for it.

Mary luckily knew her character and only brushed it off with a smile as she went on to find somewhere to sit where her mother would not catch her. That seemed for a while impossible, however, fortune smiled upon her when she noticed a very profitable place next to a lady who didn't seem older than her mother and was talking politely with a lady opposite her seat.

Without waiting any invitation she sat down quietly, making sure her folds didn't get caught up in the legs of the chair.

As soon as she was seated, the lady in question turned to her with a stern look.

'I beg your pardon?'

'Oh, I apologise, I saw this seat empty and I thought…'

'Well, you could have said something, girl. Never mind…I recognize you, child. Weren't you one of the bridesmaids?'

'Why, yes I was.'

'What is your name, for surely you must be a Bennet.'

'Mary, madam.'

'Ah…well proper name for a girl, I suppose. Perhaps you were not acquainted with me. I wouldn't be surprised, your mother didn't see fit to make me an important guest. I am Mrs. Carter, Colonel Fitzwilliam's sister.'

Mary blushed self-consciously. She had heard of her when she had spoken to Lizzie some hours ago. Her sister proclaimed the woman was a bitter hag who only hunted a good position.

'Oh, I did not know the Colonel…what I mean is, it is a pleasure to finally meet you, madam.'

'Humph, I might understand why you do not know me, but your sister Catherine has no excuse.'

Mary thought that it was rather her brother's fault for not having told her, but she decided to keep quiet.

'I am sure from now on she will keep that in mind…'

'I do hope so. I hope that when I visit I won't be asked who I am first. I hope I shall be treated as a relative.'

'I assure you, Catherine only wishes to please.'

'Let her please her husband, not me. By the by, I have not seen much of Mr. Darcy, his poor wife is alone without him. He disappeared two hours ago. Where do you think he could have gone?'

'Not too far I suppose. He wouldn't leave without Elizabeth.'

'I heard he was dealing with some business problems. Really! At a wedding of all places.'

'In cases of emergency…'

'Nonsense! I always tell my husband to separate work from enjoyment. Only then does he thrive.'

'I am sure Mr. Darcy does so as well, something important must have come up.'

'So important he forgets about my brother…well, at least his wife looks pretty, I admit she is not completely plain.'

Mary had good sense not to retort to such cheeky replies. She did think, however, that she had picked one of the worst seats in the room.

'Yes, I dote on her, she is very kind.'

'I suppose so, though my niece is an exemplary of kindness I assure you. And beauty as well…no one would call her less than pretty and she can really shine when she wears that blue gown my husband bought her when he visited Spain. Yes, I do believe Miss Durant is an accomplished young lady…and I must say, there aren't many of those.'

This woman can talk civilly only of her niece, I gather.

'She seems to be a…charming young lady…'

'Oh, she is. I have been meaning to talk to your mother about her. Perhaps then she would see how daughters ought to be raised and how they ought to be behaving in society.'

'I see…then she must be a model of good conduct and propriety…I suppose she's also gentle and good-natured, well read, educated in all ways, can play an instrument and can speak at least two languages. Not to mention she probably has a strong sense of ethics and morals,' Mary replied.

The lady seemed a bit flustered but she nodded and went on.

'I do not let herself get too tired with books. But she has all the attributed for a skilled wife and a responsible matron. Besides, her situation is quite favourable. She has at least 10000 to expect from her mother and a bit from the father who unfortunately is not of such wealthy position, but what can you say if the foolish woman married for feelings?'

'A favourable situation? I suppose that is alluring to most gentlemen…'

'Is it not? I always thought so. Miss Durant is very modest, however. She gives plenty to charity. Do you know, in France we always try to help the poor and sew some clothes for them, spare some bread. Do people do this here as well?'

'Fairly so…our reverent is a very active man when it comes to such things; he always gives some of the young girls and old ladies something to work for those in need. We also give money to church…'

'Pshaw, that is theft, Miss Bennet. Giving money to church won't help much, you can depend upon it. Those pounds reach anyone else but those in need.'

'How do you know so?' Mary inquired puzzled.

'My poor mother, God rest her soul, was once very good friend with a minister's wife, a very educated, amiable woman who had been made to marry a man of church by her uncle. She told me that all the money collected by her husband went to a Lady Alfonse, who was supposedly a mistress of the Cardinal's and she spent it all on new gowns. That was years ago indeed, before the grand Revolution.'

'Perhaps, madam, but that happened in France…'

'And you think here is any better? Humph!' she snorted but did not elaborate. 'I think the chicken is rather too roasted, don't you?'

'I haven't tasted it yet…'

But I bet it shall taste bitter…

She looked across the table to find Georgiana. She was immersed in a conversation with her friends and needn't be bothered. To her left she saw her mother talking to a young sergeant whom she had seen kissing Lydia's hand. From thereon, she assumed the worst, which was the best for her, in any case.

Poor Mr. Bennet entertained himself with Charles Bingley as they enjoyed their company, both their wives having been taken away from them. Jane sat next to Lizzie and indulged in some gossip with Charlotte, whose pregnancy was a vast subject indeed.

Lady Lucas had not come close to her daughter out of shame for such news being public. She abhorred making a public affair of such things, thus she enjoyed infinitely better to sit near Kitty and complain to her about poor Maria's weak constitution. Mr. Lucas was trying to talk to the Colonel as well and avoided sharing looks with Mr. Collins.

'And I begged her to get dressed and come but when I touched her forehead it was burning! I tell you, I thought she would die. I told my poor husband "dear me, we cannot leave, we must stay home, I must, I know I must, she'll perish". Mr. Lucas would not hear of it though. He's very strict with the girls, for he says it's all women's disease. He said Maria was simply upset about the new dress which had gotten stained. But I believe it was those gooseberries she ate. She is prone to walk alone in the meadows and collect fruit like that.'

'Oh, how terrible, I hope she gets much better, we shall come and visit,' Kitty added smiling sweetly.

Mary looked around helplessly. She was stuck in her seat for another good hour or two and she hoped that Mrs. Carter found another willing partner to talk with. She could not bear her acrid remarks so easily.

At length Mrs. Bennet rose to announce the tea. She felt honoured to do so, but only the reader can judge if her manner was honourable.

'Now, get up Kitty darling! Come now, the bride must be the first to rise with the groom of course! Oh, what's this nonsense that you haven't finished your pudding? You want the coffee and tea to get cold? That would be a great waste, especially since we added some apple cakes as well, imagine apples at this time! But we managed, most of them are of strawberries, though. But everyone likes cakes, I know the Lucases will enjoy them. Now, everyone please be ready for tea! Tea shall be served promptly!'

'Mama, let the butlers announce such things,' Catherine hissed angrily.

'Is the butler your mother? I am the mother of the bride and I have been to more weddings than you have hairs in your head.'

Mary would have chuckled amused had it not been for Mrs. Carter who threw a disdainful look her mother's way. That made Mary blush and lower her head in shame.

The room was full of noisy clatter of cutlery and crockery, added to the clamorous voices of some boisterous lads and lasses. Now the noise was amplified by the rising of guests to go outside.

Mary thought that in this crowd she would lose Georgiana once again, but Miss Darcy already felt mortified enough at having abandoned her friend, thus she made it her first goal to reach her and secure her hand.

'My dear Mary, please forgive me for having been so careless.'

'It was nothing, stop being so silly!' Mary said laughing.

'Well, I can make it up to you. The Bancrofts invited us to their table in the Ball Room, they are such good-natured people, their talks will surely amuse you.'

Mary was not very keen on it, but could do nothing but follow her friend. It was surprisingly easier to get out of the crowd this time and be unharmed. People were spreading in all directions, leaving space for some movement. They reached the Ball Room in no time and found the table they were seeking in a remote corner near the orchestra.

The sister and brother were already seated there, enjoying a good smoke when the two friends arrived. They welcomed them warmly and seemed not to recognize Mary from the dance floor, since all awkwardness was gone.

'Miss Bennet! Really, I thought there weren't any of them left!' said Miss Bancroft amused.

'Well, they didn't get rid of me,' Mary said telling herself she was only making mockery of it.

'I say, Catherine has picked the best man, he will always be there by her side, as he is for all his loved ones,' added Mr. Bancroft who felt inadequate and made it seem as if he would have preferred to be the woman, rather than the man, since he was always a tad too sentimental.

'Indeed, quite so, there couldn't have been anyone better for her,' Mary said. 'He can teach and improve her manners.'

'Your sister looks divine, the Colonel too, why that suit fits him very well,' said Miss Bancroft. 'Though why was her gown blue? Light yellow would have been better.'

'Oh, my sister hates yellow,' Mary replied simply after which a long silence settled in.

From time to time Mr. Bancroft would glance furtively at Georgiana then look quickly away. Mary noticed this and was about to inquire of it, but at that moment a group of youths reached their table.

The party was formed of two young men and one young lady who seemed to be eleven or twelve by the looks of it. The first gentleman, who was holding the girl's hand she did not know, but the second was Mr. Prowler.

'Oh, Brandon you have come and little Sarah as well! Miss Bennet, Miss Darcy this is one of my colleagues from Nottingham, Brandon Farren,' Mr. Bancroft added. 'And I see he brought one of his companions, Mr. Prowler is it not?'

Mr. Prowler nodded and shook hands.

'We've heard much about you, from Brandon, but we never really got to talk, I am so pleased he convinced you to come,' Miss Bancroft added happily.

'So am I, he has always told me the story of the most peculiar brothers in England and how one should be fortunate to chat with them.'

'Brandon always exaggerated our power to entertain, but please be seated,' they both exclaimed.

Mary was rather put out as she saw him place himself opposite herself, nodding his head condescendingly in her direction.

He smiled at Georgiana and kissed Miss Bancroft's hand before he opened his cigar case and took out a thick one.

'So, we know you are top lawyer in London, Mr. Prowler. The stories about you are as numerous as those about us…Is it true you managed to solve the Finnegan case in just three months?' asked Miss Bancroft.

'I see you are well informed about this one, yes it is true, but most people do not realise that case was fairly simple…at least it was when I discovered Mrs. Finnegan's lover had run away with the papers. You give me all too much credit, madam.'

'We do not think so, after all, rumour has it you've been helping Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy as well. That's quite a lot to take in for you, is it not?' asked Mr. Bancroft.

'True, but I love challenges, they keep me alive, I would never give up on a case, not to mention I enjoy having clients who treat me with respect.'

Mary was displeased by such arrogant remark and decided not to speak at all. The smoke from his cigar was flying all into her face.

'So do tell us, is London as tedious as ever at this time of year?'

'What with the coming end of the war, it is a grim view…but I am in luck to be able to escape here.'

'Do you really have time for everything you put your mind to?' asked Miss. Bancroft.

'I try my best…I haven't neglected my friends, I hope,' he said smiling towards Mary and Georgiana. 'I always say there's time for work and time to enjoy a cigar.'

Could he be more pompous…he had been a lot more amiable earlier…she thought.

'Quite true, I advise my brother to do the same,' Georgiana spoke for the first time.

'Thank you for agreeing, Miss Darcy. In any case, London is always busy and always dreary when you're accustomed to seeing it every day. Now…travellers that come to London for the first time see in it a glimmering hope, a ruby in the mud…until they realise it's nothing but a cobble stained with blood.'

Ruby in the mud! For Heaven's sake how pretentious and artificial…she thought disgusted.

A dreaded head-ache had taken over her again and she was holding her hand over her forehead in pain as she listened to the intense conversation.

'Come now, we both know you find London dreary since you wish you could see more of France,' teased Brandon.

'Why so?' inquired Miss Bancroft curiously.

'Why, for nothing at all…but there's always opportunity to see a nice flower and a pretty girl, am I not right, James?'

Mr. Prowler only nodded and took another puff of his cigar.

'Who could she be, Sir?' asked Georgiana excited.

'No one else than Geraldine Durant, of course!' Brandon exclaimed. 'One of the most darling women of the country.'

Mary raised her eyes surprised. Mr. Prowler smiled very pleased with himself.

'Durant? Strange name…sounds familiar…' muttered Mr. Bancroft.

'Surely it does! Her father has affairs in South America. Commerce is booming and the girl has quite a large dowry…not to mention she's pretty as a picture and very considerate, spirited and animated.'

Mr. Brandon was not always delicate in his speech, but our guests were used to this tone and greeted it kindly, inquiring more of this impressive lady.

'And I must say…she's quite enamoured with our James, always comes out to see him…'

'That's nonsense…she simply likes my company better than that of that wretched aunt of hers…' Mr. Prowler interfered but it was obvious by the way he smirked that he was very proud of this achievement.

'I tell you my friends, he has done right to befriend such a smart-looking lady…if he only goes a bit further he shall have a fortune of 10000 and more…' Brandon continued careless of Georgiana's frowns and Mary's disgusted look.

So…he seeks to marry her for money and looks, I should have expected that from a man who was attracted to Lydia.

Mr. Prowler looked down embarrassed and too proud to speak for some time, but eventually, the conversation breached the aspects of the wedding and the Ball.

Everyone had been equally pleased about the dinner, but showed complaints at the lack of space for dancing.

'I say, my sister and I could barely dance a reel…but well, with this crowd…' Mr. Bancroft added.

'Did you get to dance, Mr. Prowler?' Miss Bancroft asked.

James looked up and for a moment gave Mary an amused glance before settling his looks completely on the lady in question.

'Yes…I dare say I did and they were few but pleasant.'

'Oh, do tell us who the lucky ladies were,' Georgiana said cynically, but Mr. Brandon couldn't want more encouragement.

'I saw him myself enjoying the evening next to Miss Gordon, she's engaged however and he took a turn with Elizabeth Darcy and the bride as well. Oh and I daresay you asked Miss Belford for a dance as well, which made her only too happy to oblige since she is in mourning.'

Georgiana thought with pleasure that Mr. Brandon would have done much better had he been of the fairer sex, for he could get along perfectly well with the impetuous mothers of single daughters.

Mary looked at Mr. Prowler expectantly, waiting for him to acknowledge another dance that had not been mentioned by his garrulous friend.

He looked up confused and nodded.

'Yes, it is as Brandon says, I think he followed me like a ghost, but he is right, I had too little time to enjoy but the ladies were charming.'

Mary blinked angrily and rose after some moments.

'Excuse me, I need to use the lavatory,' she said politely and left without giving them a glance back. Georgiana looked back at her confounded and tried calling for her, but it would not do.

James only sighed and threw his cigar away putting his head in his chest.

Our heroine managed to slip through the little chatty groups hidden at corners and climbed up the stairs. She entered the first empty chamber she could find and started pacing it angrily.

'Such a deceiving, crafty, foolish, pompous, pedant, arrogant...' she hissed. 'It was he who asked me and yet he is ashamed to admit. I understand why he is, but at least he could spare me the humility. How horrid he spoke! As if he was the King's jester. It would suit him for being so amiable one moment and the next…'

She threw the table out of her way.

'And why on Earth did I get so irate about this stupid affair? I never wanted to dance in the first place, yet I left the table like an idiot and exposed myself to his ridicule! Ugh, I can be so foolish and nonsensical at times, to shrink from him! He's nothing but a…but a…'

But here she faltered as she looked in the mirror on the opposite wall.

Her cheeks were flushed and some strands of hair flew wild around her.

She did not breathe a word any longer, but sat down by the empty fireplace, in a cosy armchair, and looked at the cinder pensively. She wrapped her arms round her body and stayed this way meditating on how she had reached this point in her life that she had no pleasure in advancing. She felt alone, utterly alone. For the first time, she felt as if all her sisters had abandoned her.

And she felt that, by running away as she had done now, she was only repeating what she always did, every moment of her life.

Mary Bennet did not come out from the chamber until it was considerably dark outside and the commotion was no longer great downstairs.

She never got to say goodbye to the Bancrofts or Mr. Brandon…or Mr. Prowler who left immediately after she secured herself in her little hiding place.