Hey sorry I haven't updated in a while. I was in Arizona.
Mary quickly wiped her tears and took the letter.
Dear Miss Mary Bennet,
I have rescently forseen how cruel I was to you on the night of our meeting. I am terribly sorry for such acts. You angered me that night with your stubborness and quick wits. Never has any young woman spoken to me with such defience. It both angered and pleased me. Such emotions were awfully strange. You made me lose every control I had, and for that I hated you, yet you made me wish you around, and for that I loved you. It is strange to love the one you hate, and so I tried to ignore it. However when three weeks had passed since our first and only incounter, I lost it. I had to see you, so I wrote this letter to explain everything. I came to your home, hoping to miss you so I would not have to see the hate in your eyes.
Please forget all hateful things,
Henry J. Porter
Mary reread the letter over and over.
Finally, a man who fit in the books. A man of hate and love. A man who could challenge her. A man who wanted her for her soul and wits, not just her beauty. Finally a man who might actually love her.
The other men had only wanted her for her beauty and her family's honorable reputation. Henry wanted herr for who she was, not what she was.
She loved him, and she had to go after him. She suddenly realized she had broken his heart as much as he had broken hers.
Mary quickly ran to one of the servants,"Louise, please get Thomas to ready the carriage. I will be traveling to Porter Mansion in the morning."
The servant bowed,"Of course, miss."
Mary quickly readied for bed. She barely slept that night. She was anxious.
She woke in the morning and quickly got dressed. Once her dress and shoes were on, she put on her bonnet and grey cloak.
She rushed out ofd her room and to the front field where she found the family carriage waiting, along with Thomas holding the reins, and another servant, Joshua, as the footman.
Joshua helped her into the carriage and she jumped as she saw John sitting on the carriage bench.
"John, what are you doing in here?"asked Mary in surprise.
"A servant of yours sent a message to one of mine that you were leaving for Porter Mansion in the morning. So you are?" John seemed mad.
Mary hesitated,"I- um, yes, I am."
"Well I couldn't let you leave. I hurried here in the middle of the night. I had hoped to speak to you last night, but the servants said you were asleep," he said.
Mary stared at him as she sat down beside him,"John, why did you not want me to leave for Porter Mansion?"
John sighed,"Because, my dear, sweet Mary. I love you. I could not let you go and marry someone else."
Mary stared at him with wide eyes,"W-what? But what a-about M-Martha Yunt?"
John sighed again and with a pained chuckle he said,"There is no Martha Yunt. Martha Yunt is the name of a baker I met in Forntown. I was rather hoping I could make you jealous if I created a story of me falling in love with someone other than you."
The carriage started moving and Mary felt trapped. Trapped with someone she only half loved.
Mary sat silent, stunned by what her childhood friend had just said.
John looked up at her,"Mary... please say something."
Mary looked at John with a pained expression,"John, what d-do yoou expe-ect me to say. I-I love y-you and I lo-ove him."
John shook his head,"I'm sorry, Mary. Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, John. I'm glad you did. With your confession, I realized that I love you as much as I love him."
John grabbed her hand,"Mary, please choose me. We have history. We have common interest. We have everything and more. We make sense. Mr. Porter and you don't."
Mary took her hand away,"Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy didn't make sense either, and their happily married."
"Perhaps, but look at Jane and Mr. Bengly, your mother and father, Lydia and Mr. Wickam, Kitty and Mr. Peterson, William and Henrietta, or Edward and Rosalina. A relationship that does not make sense works out perhaps one in a million times. Relationships that do make sense, like ours, happen more often and are often much happier,"John stated.
"Perhaps you are right John, but love does not care what makes sense or not. It does what it wishes."Mary said.
John frowned and his eyebrows furrowed,"Then perhaps you shoould figure out wether your love lies with sense or nonsense."
Mary felt tears start to swell,"Perhaps you're right."
The rest of the ride was silent.
