Well, here it is. I'm a bit anxious about this chapter b/c as I've said things will start going…somewhere. However, the beginning is about Lydia, it won't be til the last third of the chap that Mr. Singleton stuff happens. Anyway, it's better to keep my a/n short this time.
However, I would like to thank Brooke for the anonymous review and anyone who I might have missed.
Oh, and a question for you history buffs: Dinner means lunch and supper means dinner, right? if not, oh well, dinner means lunch anyway in this chapter.
For about a week or two Richard and Mary remained uncomfortable around each other, but that gradually wore off. It wasn't as if the discomfort disappeared, but they had learned to master it. Soon, they were almost back to the same state they'd always been in, except for a certain degree of stiffness, and an increase in awkward pauses.
Mary was frustrated with herself. She felt as if some silly emotion were arising simply because of one or two occurrences. She felt as if she were succumbing to thoughts she knew better than to be subservient to. After all, any sort of…emotion she may have detected from Mr. Singleton must have been imagined. She probably just misinterpreted his actions when he gave her the music book. He was trying to bring her some cheer; that was all. However, all opposing thoughts proved difficult to stifle. She wished she could cease such thoughts; she had already had enough sorrow and she didn't want to experience it again. It would have helped if she had a confidant other than the person she needed to confide about.
At the same time, a change in her demeanor is worth noting. She was a little more cheerful than she had ever been. She played lighter tunes on her piano, and she took to reading downstairs more than in her room. She even participated more in conversations, or perhaps in the listening part, she never knew what to say to her family if it wasn't an adage or a platitude. She even snickered once or twice at something Kitty said. Her family didn't seem to notice this either, for she was still accustomed to her usual habits.
She had been blessed, however, that her two most agreeable sisters were left with her. Lizzy had recently taken to the Lakes with the Gardiners and Lydia still remained in Brighton. Jane and Kitty stayed at Longbourn with Mary. It was a much more pleasant experience than when she had been left with Kitty and Lydia. For the most part, Jane was not aggravating and Kitty was mostly an irritation in the presence of Lydia. However, without Lydia around Kitty became tolerable, more sensible, and less rude. She was still silly and giggled about many things, but at the very least she wasn't a mirror image of Lydia anymore. Even still, Mary didn't like to dwell on it so much, but she did miss her other sisters. It wasn't as if they ceased to be irritating but the absence of that irritation created an odd void. Whatever the case may be, Mary still wouldn't have confided in her remaining sisters. In the absence of Lydia, Kitty found Jane to be more worthy to spend time with and Jane was so opposite from her she didn't know how to relate.
An addition to the family came in the form of the Gardiner children. They were left at Longbourn in Jane's care. Mary knew it was hospitable to help with the children but she never knew what to do with them. The children preferred Jane's company anyway. There were two girls, eight year old Elise and six year old Amelia, and two boys, five-year-old Jeffrey and four-year-old James. The two girls shared one guest room and the two boys shared the other.
Since her sisters had always paired off together as each other's closest friends, Mary had the opportunity of having her own room while Lydia and Kitty shared together and Jane and Lizzy did the same. Mary spent many a night up late with a book and one certain night was no different a case. On this certain night at about midnight, after the rest had gone to bed, a loud knock upon the door was heard. Mary looked up curiously from her book.
"What is this all about?" she questioned to no one. Mary heard the front door being answered and voices ensued downstairs. In concern and curiosity, Mary got up and left her room to stand at the very top of the stairs. Just as she arrived at her destination her father was approaching the front door where one of the servants and an express carrier were located. Mary, normally not one to eavesdrop, couldn't tear herself away as a sense of dread filled her. This sense only increased as she heard something about an express from Brighton. Finally, the carrier left and Mr. Bennet read the letter to himself. Mary watched the color drain from her father's face as she slowly made her way downstairs.
"Papa?" she asked quietly. Mr. Bennet looked up in surprise at his wide-awake daughter. He looked tired, not from being aroused from sleep but from the contents of the letter.
"Mary, go awaken your sisters and mother."
The sense of dread increased as Mary asked: "Is everything alright?"
"Go."
Mary quickly walked up the stairs feeling ill. She decided on waking Jane first, for she would be more reasonable and perhaps help with Mrs. Bennet and Kitty. Mary walked into Lizzy and Jane's room and ventured over to Jane's sleeping form.
"Jane. Jane, wake up." Mary said as she shook her eldest sister. Jane stirred.
"Mary?" She said sitting up. "Is everything alright?"
"I don't know." Mary said fretfully. "Papa wants us downstairs. I think we've received an express from Brighton but he wouldn't say what it was about. He told me to wake you, Kitty, and mother up."
Jane got up quickly.
"I'll go awaken mother; you fetch Kitty." Jane said gently, though not without a trace of worry. Mary nodded and made to walk off until Jane gently grabbed her arm.
"And perhaps we shouldn't tell them the nature of the disturbance." Jane said. "We mustn't get them to frenzy before papa has the opportunity to explain what the letter is about."
"Alright." Mary said, and hurried out of the room. Mary entered Kitty's room and crossed over to Kitty's bed. She shook her sister.
"Kitty. Kitty, wake up!"
Kitty did not stir.
"Come on Kitty, get up!" Mary said a little louder. Kitty moaned and buried her head deeper into the pillow.
"Kitty!"
"Go away." Kitty mumbled.
"Come on Kitty, Papa wants us all downstairs."
"At this moment?" Kitty said irritably. "I just fell asleep!"
"Yes, at this moment!" Mary exclaimed in frustration. Kitty moved not.
"Kitty, come on!" Mary said, yanking the pillow out from under her sister's head and hitting her with it.
"Hey now! What is the meaning of this?"
"I already told you. Papa wants us downstairs!"
"What for?"
"Kitty, I don't know! Come on!" Kitty grunted, slowly got out of bed, and followed her sister out of her room, muttering as she did so. Mary, hearing Jane still trying to awaken their mother, left Kitty to trudge sleepily down the steps alone and went to aid Jane in her efforts. They finally succeeded and the two girls, one worried and the other agitated, led their irritated mother down the stairs. The three women entered the room occupied by Mr. Bennet, who was standing by the window looking out of it, and Kitty, who had yet again fallen asleep. Jane sat down on the couch next to her and shook her gently; Mary sat down as well.
"What is the meaning of this, Mr. Bennet?" Mrs. Bennet shrilled irritability as she sat down. "Rousing us all out of bed in the middle of the night!"
Mr. Bennet turned away from the window toward them.
"I must demand complete attention from all of you without interruption." He said sternly. "I have an urgent express here from Brighton."
"From Brighton?" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, ignoring her husband's admonition. "Oh my baby Lydia! She is to be married, I just know it! I knew she couldn't be there long before a young man would snatch her up. I knew she'd be the first."
Mary looked at her mother in disbelief. Why would an urgent express arrive so late at night to announce an engagement? Of course, it being Lydia it wouldn't seem so farfetched. Mr. Bennet looked at his wife in irritated amusement.
"It would be the only hope she has now if it were so," he said. "Interesting choice of words, by the way."
The three girls and their mother looked at him in confusion. Mr. Bennet, taking advantage of the silence, went on to read the contents of the letter. The four women stared in disbelief as he announced to them most dreadful news. Lydia had run off to elope with Mr. Wickham! Mary was astonished, Jane appeared to be so as well, and Kitty seemed almost guilty. Silence lingered in the air until a shrill voice sounded next to Mary almost causing a heart attack to end her young life.
"Oh my baby! My poor baby Lydia!!!" Mrs. Bennet wailed and Jane tried to comfort her. "How could they treat her so? How could the Forster's be so careless with my most precious child? How could they let that awful, awful man take her?"
Mary could barely believe what she heard...or perhaps the sad fact was that she COULD believe what she heard. Her mother saw no evil in Lydia's actions, only the actions of others, and those who were nowhere near as guilty as she. Mary felt a stir to say something but the agitated look on her father's face kept her from even opening her mouth.
"Oh my dear, dear Lydia! Why did it have to be her? What will become of my poor baby? Ohhhh." Mrs. Bennet wailed and then swooned. Kitty jumped up and joined Jane at Mrs. Bennet's side, Mr. Bennet merely looked irritated, and Mary sat there unsure of what to do.
"Mary, Hill! Go get Hill." Jane said.
Mary nodded, got up quickly, and went to fetch Hill. It took the efforts of a few servants to carrying Mrs. Bennet up to her room. Jane joined the servants in attending to Mrs. Bennet. Mrs. Bennet's faint spell was perhaps a blessing, for she once she would recover Mary was sure her wailing would reach every corner of the house. No one had plans to sleep, but even if they did, a sudden epidemic of household insomnia would occur once Mrs. Bennet awakened. Mary, Kitty, and Mr. Bennet sat silently downstairs in the sitting room. Mary hadn't an idea of what to say, normally she would offer some sort of a platitude, but it didn't feel right. Kitty stared at the carpet with a guilty look on her face. Mary couldn't help but wonder if she knew of Lydia's foolish plans and Mr. Bennet himself stared at Kitty in scrutinizing curiosity. Kitty's eyes lifted and met her father's; she withered under his investigating glare.
"I think I'll check on the children." She said and left. Mary gazed tiredly at the floor and fiddled with the fringe on a pillow. She felt her father's gaze on her as well. What for, she didn't know. She had nothing to do with this! Though part of her was almost, terribly enough, unsurprised at Lydia's actions she was still as shocked as the rest.
"Awfully quiet, Mary?" Her father said. "No words of wisdom in all this?"
Mary looked up at her father, offended.
"I'll see if Kitty would like any help." Mary said stiffly and left. The nerve of him to talk like that at such a time! Mary walked up the stairs and met Kitty as she was exiting one of the guestrooms. Kitty looked tired and upset.
"Kitty…" Mary said. Kitty looked up startled and then, seeing it was Mary, looked irritated.
"Not right now, Mary. I don't need to hear it!"
Mary looked offended at her sister's retreating figure.
"Perhaps I should go to bed, then." She thought. "Why should I be concerned about a family with little regard for me?"
Mary slumber wasn't so peaceful, if one could call it slumber at all. She spent the night worried about her sister and frustrated with her as well. She even cried some over that idiot. She blamed herself for not expounding morals and virtues in her sister enough, or perhaps, for expounding them too much. Overall, however, Lydia's decision was Lydia's decision. They all had been raised in the same family and none of Lydia's sisters behaved in such a manner. Mary knew Lizzy, Jane, and herself would never dream of partaking in such an action; after tonight Mary could see Kitty understood the stupidity of her sister's actions as well.
Stupidity or not, Mary still worried for her sister. As much as she felt Lydia needed a lesson learned she knew what the possible consequences were; the inevitable one's were more than she would have ever wanted any of her annoying sisters to go through. Lydia's reputation would be forever tainted and no respectable gentleman would have a thing to do with her if Wickham did not marry her. If she were to be united with the scoundrel he would most likely be unfaithful and who knew what else. Mary wasn't sure which fate was worse. Unless, of course, he turned out to be a violent man; then Mary would have preferred Lydia to suffer a tainted reputation.
There was, however, the matter of the effect it would have on her sisters if she did not marry Wickham. Respectable gentlemen wouldn't have a thing to do with them either! Mary, for a reason she didn't admit to herself, wondered if Mr. Singleton would behave in such a manner. Mary concluded that if any respectable man would keep ties with a girl ruined by her sister it would be Mr. Singleton; for he was not only respectable but virtuous. At one time Mary might have agreed with a man who would disassociate himself with such a family but now that she was on the other side of things she changed her mind. For whatever reason, thoughts of Mr. Singleton helped her mind to change all the more quickly.
Finally the evening was over and the next day began. All occupants of the house were tired for they slept very little. Kitty, Mary, and Jane rotated the chores of tending to a now "ill" mother and watching the children. Jane, however, felt it wrong to have her two younger sister's partake in as much as she did and partnered them up to work together.
Mary wasn't sure what she preferred doing. The children were easily more agreeable beings than her mother, but she never knew what to do with children. They had no interest in being read to, at least not the books of Mary's choosing, and they were easily bored with listening to the piano unless they had the opportunity to pound on the keys, something which Mary didn't allow. Kitty was a little better, for she was able to engage the girls in hat trimming for a quarter of an hour. Thus Mary and Kitty let the children play amongst themselves and kept eye to be sure they didn't break anything.
Staying with Mrs. Bennet was a different matter. Mary knew what to do: fetch smelling salts, pretend to listen to her rants, etc. However, these activities gave her more of a headache than children pounding on her precious piano, for Mary cared not to hear of her mother's "tremblings" and "flutterings". Their mother bemoaned of the evils of all involved other than Lydia herself; Kitty embroidered and Mary read as they pretended to listen. Mary doubted the illness of her mother or, at the very least, doubted it was as terrible as was expressed. Mrs. Bennet was accustomed to overdramatization.
"I knew that Mr. Wickham to be a terrible, terrible man! I told you girls, I told all of you to stay away from him. But did any of you listen, not a single one!"
Mary and Kitty exchanged a look. Mrs. Bennet had done no such thing. In fact, Mary had been the one wary of him the entire time. She had been pleased to see that Lizzy had begun to think so as well.
"You girls should have steered my sweet, innocent Lydia away from him, but because you were so interested in that man she followed in your footsteps! Oh where is that Lizzy? She is most guilty of this!"
Kitty and Mary looked at each other in exasperation.
"And now my baby is ruined because of you! I feel so ill for her, and this house is so terribly hot. Hill! Oh Hill! Where is that Hill?" Mrs. Bennet said, not waiting for a response. "Mary! Do something useful for once! Go open the windows in this dreadful house!"
Mary threw her book down in frustration.
"Gladly mother." She said. Kitty watched Mary exited the room in envy.
"For someone so ill you would think she'd be too exhausted to speak so much." Mary muttered to herself as she walked down the hall. Mary went through all the rooms and finally came upon the last one, the guestroom the boys were staying in. Mary entered the room and was none surprised to see it a complete mess. The mattress was even askew on the bed and she wondered what sort of game of pretend that had been involved in. Mary opened the window, turned around, and noticed something sticking out from under the mattress. It appeared to be a letter and Mary wondered if it was something the children shouldn't get their hands on. She picked it up and looked at it; surely enough it was a letter addressed to Mr. Collins. It was so short that Mary unfortunately noticed contents that kept her eyes from tearing away, otherwise Mary wouldn't have invaded such privacy.
Thursday, November 28th, 1812
To Mr. William Collins,
It has come to my attention that you are considering an engagement with Miss Mary Bennet. Please accept my invitation for dinner this afternoon (note directions below), for I have something I must discuss with you before you make your final decision. I assure you it will be to your benefit.
Sincerely,
Mr. Richard Singleton.
Mary's mouth fell open in astonishment and she read the letter at least five times for she couldn't believe her eyes. Mr. Singleton had interfered in some way with her potential engagement to Mr. Collins!
"There must be some explanation!" She exclaimed. "He wouldn't have done anything to result in my unhappiness. What would have been his motive?"
Mary was haunted by her previous wonderings of his possible interest in her.
"No, he wouldn't have…he-he couldn't..." Mary said fretfully. "There must have been some other reason. He wouldn't do that! I must go to him immediately."
Mary hurried downstairs wondering how she would make her escape from the house. The affairs of the family were in no state for her to go running off with alibis of "visiting the bookstore". Luckily, as she came down the stairs she witnessed a conversation between Jane and Mr. Bennet that could have been her salvation.
"I haven't written a letter to the Philips yet." Jane said to her father. "I haven't found the time. I have, however, managed my letter to Lizzy."
"I'll see if I can make time to write it if you cannot." Mr. Bennet replied.
"Let me go." Mary said, finishing her descent down the stairs. Mr. Bennet and Jane looked at her surprise. "I'll go tell them in person!"
"Tell them in person when we can just write a letter?" Mr. Bennet said. Mary blushed and felt very stupid.
"Yes, I mean, don't you think they should hear of their favorite niece in person?" She said. "Please, let me go. It's not as if I have been that useful, Kitty can easily handle my part for the short time that I'll be gone. Unless you have something for me to do I see no reason why I should be detained. I promise I won't be there for so very long."
Mr. Bennet and Jane looked at her skeptically.
"Please, I promise I won't moralize over the situation. Give me the letter and I will stick to the contents of it."
Mr. Bennet wondered if Mary's motives for going were more to escape the house than anything, but he couldn't honestly blame her. Jane couldn't help but feel sorry for Mary's desperation.
"I suppose there isn't anything to do at the moment, besides tending to mother and watching the children." Jane said. "Kitty and I can handle that…"
Mr. Bennet looked at his third youngest daughter's desperation. Though her motives may have been tainted he still wondered if he should deny her this request. Once he found out about Lydia he knew he would have to be stricter on his girls, especially in regards to Kitty. He had plans on keeping her more confined; but Mary, perhaps, needed a different form of discipline. She needed to break away from her books and socialize more, and here she was requesting to make a visitation rather than finding escape in her books.
"Alright, Mary, but the carriage is busy being loaded."
"That's alright, I will walk."
"That is fine, but do not take so long in case we have need of you later." Mr. Bennet said.
Mary smiled.
"Thank you, Papa." She said and rushed off to ready herself.
Mary couldn't help but feel selfish as she walked to Meryton. She knew her concern for matters other than Lydia was self-absorbed but it wasn't as if keeping her nose in books wasn't self-absorbed either. Besides, this new matter of Mr. Singleton was a distraction and only caused her to be in more turmoil. Perhaps clearing this matter up would allow her to handle the goings on at home better. She just knew it couldn't be bad as it seemed.
"It cannot be what it implies. He just wouldn't do that." She said. Mary tried to convince herself of it being a misunderstanding of some sort, but that only proved to increase her anger.
"Whatever it might be," she muttered to herself, "I do not understand why he discussed me with Mr. Collins outside my knowledge."
Mary looked at the letter.
"And what is this line about: 'to your benefit' he didn't pay him to..."
Mary refused to finish the thought and tried to divert her attention on how she should make these two visits quick as she had promised her father. Mary wasn't sure how to go about it. She had no idea how long it would take for Mr. Singleton to explain matters. She was hoping to stop off at the Philips' first and report the news as quickly as possible; hopefully, she wouldn't be detained there or offered a carriage ride home. She remembered, fortunately, that she had overheard at church Mr. Jenson and Mr. Singleton discussing about having the day off. She hoped to stop at his house and, from there, convince Mr. Singleton to walk her home as he explained the letter. It would be a tricky ordeal, but it was something Mary felt she needed to attempt.
All plans had flown out the window as she reached the outskirts of Meryton and saw Mr. Singleton venturing out of town on his horse. Upon seeing him Mary's anger boiled inside.
"Hello there Miss Mary!" he called happily. Mary glared at him as he approached and, once he reached her he descended his horse.
"Mr. Singleton, explain this!" Mary said, thrusting the letter at him. Mr. Singleton frowned and took the letter from her. The color drained from his face as he silently read.
"Mary…perhaps you should sit down." He said gently, attempting to guide her towards a tree stump; she stood stubbornly in her place.
"Mary…I knew I should have told you sooner, I was waiting for the right moment." He said. "I-I know I shouldn't have done it…"
"Would you please just get on with it!" she exclaimed, voice wavering.
"Mary…I convinced Mr. Collins not to marry you."
Yes, I'm ending it here. But, if I get 15 SIGNED IN reviews I MIGHT post the next chap on Tuesday…I'll be more likely to if I get even more reviews. Next 2 chaps are pretty short (4 pages each on Word)…I might combine them but I feel they stand better on their own. I am curious if anyone saw that coming, or thought that some sort of drama would rear its ugly head...
I did fail to mention where things would start heading, didn't I? Oops. Errr…BYE! *runs away*