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Chapter Four

Mr. Collins escorted Mary outside to the small, but beautiful garden, "Miss Mary, would you be attending the ball at the Lucases?"

"I am expected to, so I will make an appearance," Mary said as Mr. Collins led her through the garden. The flowers had bloomed long ago, during the spring and summer, but they were still exquisite.

"You do not wish to go?" Mr. Collins asked.

"I would rather be making extracts," Mary said.

"One must have fun a little, Miss Mary," Mr. Collins said, teasingly.

Mary blushed at that, "Mr. Collins, I am not a person to have a lot of fun doing anything. I can enjoy something. But to have fun, that's another question.

Mr. Collins went to sit on a stone bench and Mary sat beside him. She then felt a curious sensation. It was like a tremor. A tremor of pleasure, like the feeling of…the feeling of…Mary couldn't compare the tremor to anything that she had felt in her life. It was subtle, though, so she didn't put anymore more thought into it.

Mr. Collins was quiet for a moment before he stated, "Sometimes humans remind me of peacocks."

Mary looked at him, "Why is that, Mr. Collins?"

Mr. Collins said, "The female peacock is homely while the male peacock is flamboyant. The male peacocks fight amongst other males in order to win the affections of the female peacock out of desperation."

The young woman looked down to her lap and smirked, "Perhaps the female peacock has a wonderful personality."

He had shaken his head, "No, it's something else. What makes man attracted to woman and what makes a woman attracted to a man?"

That sentence irritated Mary.

Mary looked to him, "It is clear on what attracts you, Mr. Collins." At that statement, she stood up and went over to the flowers.

Jane…Elizabeth….Both beautiful…Both had caught Mr. Collins' eye when they came into the room.

Jane was his first choice, but she was out of reach. Then Elizabeth came, who denied him in the end.

As if marrying Mr. Collins was something revolting, Mary thought. Something that would cause her harm and make her life miserable. Something that would ruin her perfect little world.

Papa's favorite.

Mary picked a red rose from a bush, "Your first choice of flower is a rose. Everyone loves roses. They are the most beautiful, the most romantic, and the most presumptuous."

She then picked up a lily, "Then comes the lily, second only to the rose in beauty. Yet, it is so beautiful, so perfect, but so untouchable."

She placed the two flowers on the bench before she started towards the house.

"Sunflowers…" She then heard Mr. Collins say.

She turned around to look at him, surprised that he bothered to say anything.

"My favorite flowers are sunflowers," He said as he stood up and walked over to Mary.

"Why?" Mary found herself asking.

Mr. Collins said, "Well, at first, they appear to be plain. On closer examination, you realize how beautiful they are." He picked a sunflower and looked at it, "See?"

Mary took a closer look at the sunflower and saw all the swirling designs in the flower. It hypnotized her and only Mr. Collins could bring her out of the trance.

"It's beautiful, it's complex, and it is everything that the other flowers do not have," Mr. Collins said as he turned to Mary. He then handed her the sunflower, "That is why I love them."

Mary took it and her fingers brushed up against Mr. Collins' own fingers. Her slightly tattered gloves grazed against his new gloves.

There was that feeling again.

There was a faint blush on her cheeks as she looked into his eyes. He had fascinating eyes. They were a hazel color, reminding Mary of pictures of a sea during a storm.

"I never have thought about it like that," Mary said as she kept the flower close to her bosom.

Mr. Collins sighed, "Most people do not think about it like that."

Mary ran her finger on one of the yellow petals. It felt soft to the touch.

"I am going to miss Longbourn," Mr. Collins stated as he looked around the garden.

"Mr. Collins, it won't be too long until this is yours," Mary pointed out.

"Yes, but there is something about this place that makes me want to never leave it," Mr. Collins said.

Mary frowned, questionably, "But…your parish at Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I thought that you were fond of it."

Mr. Collins nodded, "Oh, yes, I am fond of it. Very much, but there is something that Longbourn has that my parish doesn't have."

Mary was about to ask him when she felt that they were not alone in the garden. She turned her head slightly to see her father.

"Mr. Bennet," Mr. Collins greeted as he bowed to his cousin. Mr. Bennet bowed back to him, though not as low.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Mr. Bennet asked, looking at his daughter and then at his cousin.

"No, Papa," Mary said. The last thing she wanted was to irritate the man.

Mr. Collins said as he looked to Mr. Bennet, "We were just walking around in the garden. Mary is quite a pleasure to be with."

Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrow, "Mary does not have that sort of reputation."

Mr. Collins shrugged, "That is probably because there are not a lot of people that see her intelligence. It is very thought-provoking. I enjoyed every second of her company."

Mary's blush grew darker at that flattering remark. She looked down, shyly.

Mr. Bennet then commented, "You should be getting back to preparing your sermon, Mr. Collins."

The younger man glanced at Mary and then at Mr. Bennet, "I suppose so."

He bowed low to Mary, smiling at her, charmingly, "I will see you soon, Miss Mary." He then left into the house.

Mary watched him leave, smiling softly.

"What is all that about?" Mr. Bennet asked, looking at his daughter.

She looked up at him and remarked, "It was nothing. Mr. Collins and I were just talking."

Mr. Bennet looked in the direction of the house, "I am sure you were."

He then grabbed the sunflower out of Mary's hand, ripping off the petals one after the other.

Mary watched him with wide and sad eyes. She wanted to protest, but she knew that it would not work out for her in the long run.

Mr. Bennet then threw what was left of the flower on the ground, grinding it into the grass with his shoe.

When he finished, Mary looked up at her father, her eyes asked "Why?"

Mr. Bennet smirked in response, "I know how you feel. And Mr. Collins is not going to propose marriage to you. Perhaps, after every other woman on Earth dies, he may."

Mary looked down in mortification.

Mr. Bennet then leaned down to kiss the top of her forehead, "Do not make yourself upset. You will always have your papa."

Mary nodded as her father put her hand on her back and softly pushed her into the house. He followed after her.

Fifteen minutes past before the door to the garden opened once more. Mr. Collins started out the door, slightly enthusiastic with what he had in mind, "Miss Mary, are you still here? I-"

He stopped short, seeing something on the ground. He bent down to pick up the bent and broken stem of the sunflower. Some of the head was dangling from it.

Mr. Collins frowned at this. He closed his eyes as he held the stem tighter, taking in a deep breath. He had to keep himself composed. He then let it drop before he sat down on the bench.

He then proceeded to put his face in his hands, not wanting to see the sunlight.

A strong wind blew. The rose and the lily that was on the bench were carried off by the wind along with a statement made by Mr. Collins.

"Not again…"

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