Here's another installment of "A Curious Conclusion" ^^
To My Reviewers:
Bonbonnett: Yeah, abuse is really sick like that, but don't worry this dear author won't mess with your head...for long...^^
RafeDurk: I figured that showing characters in different light would make them seem like they are real. Like Lizzie isn't so perfect and Mr. Collins isn't slime.
Larcymosa-light: Puppy Eyes! Yay!
Wildeyes13: Yes, he had already proposed to Elizabeth. It had happened before the story started.
celtic sea-storme: You're right on the money on a lot of things. Thanks a lot for the review and I hope you keep reading.
Jiang Qing: I agree. We should get torches and form an angry mob! ^^
can't think: I agree. I think that you, me, and Jiang Qing should form an angry mob together! Mwahaha!
Chapter Eight
Mary turned to see Mr. Wickham towering over her. She jumped in surprise, not expecting the officer to be here. Especially here in the garden. Here at Longbourn.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, wiping her tears off her face with a sleeve in a very unladylike manner. Mary did not want to show her emotions in front of this man. She barely knew him after all.
Mr. Wickham pulled a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and gave it to her so she may wipe her tears, "Miss Lydia asked me to come over today, but she has left to call on another officer." His smile was so charming.
Mary dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief.
"And I could not let a damsel in distress such as yourself cry like you are doing now," Mr. Wickham said, sitting down next to her.
"I heard you crying and I had to see if you were alright. I was worried for about you," Mr. Wickham explained.
Mary felt so good that someone was concerned about her feelings.
"I am fine, Mr. Wickham," Mary said as she handed the handkerchief back to Mr. Wickham.
The officer smiled as he declined the handkerchief, "You can keep it."
Mary looked down at the handkerchief. It was white with red initials on the cloth. G. W. George Wickham.
Mary sighed as she set the handkerchief in her lap. It was then that Mr. Wickham said something.
"Miss Mary, is there a reason that you are crying or is it feminine hysteria?" Mr. Wickham said, chuckling slightly at "feminine hysteria".
Mary did find that a tad amusing so she smiled slightly, "It is not something that I would tell you, no offense to you, Mr. Wickham."
Mr. Wickham asked, "Does it have something to do with Mr. Collins and his proposal to Miss Lucas?"
Mary grabbed the handkerchief tighter and put it to her heart as she took in a sharp breath. Even his name pained her.
"…You have feelings for him," Mr. Wickham said, pointing out the obvious.
"What…what of it? It is not like anyone cares, especially him," Mary lamented.
Mr. Wickham replied in a chivalrous manner, "I care, Miss Mary."
Mary looked at him, grateful to hear those words. No, she scolded herself. Mr. Wickham was not a teller of the truth. His only talent was to spin pretty stories to entice unsuspecting young ladies.
She turned away and thought about giving the handkerchief back.
Mr. Wickham put his hand on her shoulder, "Miss Mary, may I say something?"
Mary turned around to look at him, "Yes, you may."
Mr. Wickham smiled, "Mr. Collins is a dull, lusting, fat, little man. He is not worth your tears."
Mary looked down and asked, "But, who would want me if he does not?"
Mr. Wickham took her hand into his own. Mary felt the callused, strong hands and she felt the need to feel those hands on her hand for the rest of her life.
"Perhaps the man that does desire you, the one that does deserve you, is waiting for the right moment, Miss Mary," Mr. Wickham said as he bent down and kissed her hand.
Mary blushed slightly as she watched Mr. Wickham stand up.
He bowed lowly to her and said, "I wish to meet again. You are better company than your sisters."
Mary stood up and curtsied, "Thank you, Mr. Wickham."
The red coat officer left the garden and went inside the house.
Mary felt better, wondering why that was.
Mr. Wickham was right. He was not worth her tears. If Mr. Collins was so inclined to marry Charlotte Lucas….not her…than Mary would accept that.
Mary had the rest of her life to find romance.
The middle Bennet daughter went on a walk through the garden. She noticed that she was wincing. Her back and legs really hurt from the welts.
It was no new feeling.
It had started when Mary was three. When Lydia was born.
At first it was nothing more than a few slaps.
Then came the punches.
The insults
The kicks.
The books to the head.
The cuts.
The burns.
The whippings.
The psychological damages.
Either no one knew or no one wanted to know.
Mary wasn't sure what it was.
But it was unfair.
She thought that she found someone that cared about her.
Someone to take her out of the godforsaken house.
It was then that Mary grabbed a sunflower. She stared at it before she started to rip it to shreds.
Anger surrounded her as she grabbed another sunflower and ripped that one.
Sunflowers were plain, ordinary, no true beauty. Why else would they be second to a daisy? The third choice after the rose and lily. No one wanted a sunflower. They accepted one when there was no other choice.
Mary began grabbing sunflower after sunflower, ripping the petals off. She broke the stem and destroyed the head.
It was then that she heard footsteps. She realized what she was doing. It would appear that she had gone mad to whoever found her in this state.
Mary ran, leaving the mess of the sunflowers behind her.
Mr. Collins and Charlotte had made their way through the garden and saw the pile of destroyed sunflowers.
Charlotte gasped slightly in surprise, "Oh, my, who could have done this?"
Mr. Collins ignored her as he bent down and picked up a sunflower.
"Mr. Collins," Charlotte said, wondering why he wouldn't answer her.
He turned to his fiancée and said, "I apologize, but I have other business to attend to."
Very improperly, he left Charlotte in the garden as he made his way into the Bennet house.
Something that one rarely did in this time.
Mr. Collins made his way up the stairs and knocked on the door to Mary's room. No answer.
Jane was in the hallway, passing by.
"Miss Bennet, have you seen Miss Mary?" Mr. Collins asked.
Jane shook her head, "No. I haven't. Have you checked the library?"
Mr. Collins shook his head as he bowed to Jane and left to the library.
He went inside and found no trace of Mary.
Where was she?
Thank you for reading, please review.