Netherfield Hall
The next morning
Mary walked carefully down the hall, carrying the hot tisane she had prepared with Elizabeth's excellent instructions. She smiled to herself so wide she nearly wobbled the pot and had to move quickly to rebalance the hot liquid. She knew she had completed her task perfectly. She smiled again at her triumph, making sure to do so with less gusto this time.
It felt so good. She was a part of something. Relied on by someone. Given tasks and it was necessary that she fulfill them. She wasn't just a bystander or the person hiding behind a fern no one noticed.
She was noticed!
She and her two elder sisters had sat up nearly all night long, sitting on Jane's sick bed discussing the situation Elizabeth found herself. And, she was going to help.
Her happiness was palpable, beaming from her flushed cheeks like a beacon. She wiggled slightly as she made her way up the stairs. Her mother had very conveniently packed a trunk for her three eldest daughters containing dresses for the two eldest and Lydia. Mary was unfortunately nearly the exact same size as their youngest sister and therefore forced to wear the ruffled mess out of necessity. It was a small price to pay to be a part of the group, however, and she wore it with as much pride as she could muster with a rather cold, exposed chest.
As she approached Jane's sick room, she could hear the muffled voices of she and Elizabeth speaking. If she had to guess, it was Elizabeth apologizing to Jane for the 12th time.
Elizabeth was the best of them, Mary had felt thus since they were children. She was always the first to stand up for what she thought was right and good and, even if she was horribly misguided, would defend her position with all her being.
She gave her all, all the time.
But she had yet to learn how to work with others.
Now that Mary was a member of the elite sister group, she was fully planning to help her do just that.
"Elizabeth." She heard Jane snap in a very uncharacteristic way. "It was my decision to follow you even without the carriage." Her most serene of sisters sat up straighter in the fluffy bed and lifted her chin. "And I would do so again if need be." She nodded resolutely.
"You were correct to do so, Jane." Mary said quietly as she made her way to the bedside, clearly startling her two sisters. She had always had a knack for stealth, even when she did not mean to do so.
"Oh! Mary! Thank you!" Jane took the proffered cup and cradled it in her hands seeming to soak up the warmth from the cup. She did a double take briefly and her red rimmed blue eyes widened. "Is that dress one of Lydia's?!"
Now Elizabeth rose to look at her. "It is!" She turned Mary around, looking her up and down. "Mary, you look beautiful!" She clucked when she got to the rather low cut decolletage. "Most definitely Lydia's."
Jane nodded and narrowed her eyes at Mary's rather prominently displayed chest. "I have just the thing!" She smiled wide and set her cup down, scrambling to get out of bed. Both she and Elizabeth protested loudly but Jane waved them off.
"I truly am fine. I plan to go down to break my fast so I need to get out of bed anyhow." Jane found her overly large reticule she had made herself to be far larger than the rest of theirs.
She did so enjoy being as prepared as possible.
She rummaged through the bag, pulling out knitting needles, thread, a pouch of buttons, even a half finished tunic she was embroidering for the tenant family with a baby on the way. "Ah ha!" She pulled out a piece of delicate lace, wrinkled ever so slightly. "This will do nicely." She smiled wide and lifted the lace to Mary's chest.
It did not cover her as much as she would have liked, and no where near what she was used to but it did make her feel less exposed.
"Thank you, Jane." Mary smiled brightly and turned so Jane could fasten the lace in the back. "Yes." She turned to look in the mirror, not entirely recognizing the person before her. "Much better!"
Elizabeth came from behind Mary and squeezed her younger sister.
"Mary, you have turned into a beautiful woman, I feel, overnight." She flicked her borrowed dress. "And it's not just the dress. Thank you for all your help."
Mary blushed furiously and felt her heart expand painfully in her chest.
She truly was a part of something. Something all too wonderful.
A knock on the door interrupted the sisters. And at Jane's assent, the door was opened.
Mr. Bingley poked his head inside the door before Mary, startled, stopped him.
"Mr. Bingley! You can not enter!"
He nearly pulled the door back in on his own head. "No! Of course! I wasn't… that is." His voice was muffled by the door so he pushed his lips, out as though imitating a duck, to project into the room without actually entering, or looking. "I was just wondering if Miss Mary would like to take a walk with me before breakfast." He moved back from the door before squeezing his lips back through the small opening. "It is very pleasant outside." He pulled back again only to return once more just as quickly. "And I will abscond a few rolls before we leave if you are hungry."
Mary ignored her two sister's knowing and obnoxiously wide smiles as they hid their giggles in their hands. She threw them both a narrowed eye look before moving to the door.
Mr. Bingley had apparently been about to say something else for he leaned forward, lips pushed into the cracked door and nearly fell forward when Mary pulled the door open wide. She caught him by the shoulders and pushed him back slightly so she could shut the door and maintain her sisters privacy.
"Miss Mary!" Mr. Bingley exclaimed happily as she pushed him back before he caught a glimpse of her…. ahem… dress. "Miss Mary". His voice was lower, and ever so slightly dazed.
"Yes, Mr. Bingley, I… um…" she tilted her head to the side watching the handsome man before her whose face was frozen in wide eyed, slack jawed awe. "Mr. Bingley?"
No answer.
"Mr. Bingley?"
"Hmmm?" He asked not taking his eyes from her.
She waved her hand in front of his face and he startled.
"Oh! Yes! Good morning, Miss Mary! I was… well, that is to say..." He cleared his throat and with an obvious effort kept his eyes on hers. "Shall we?" He offered her his arm, smiling wide.
They walked in companionable silence to the front door, stopping briefly at the breakfast room for Mr. Bingley to pilfer the promised rolls, before heading to the front door to don their outerwear.
As Mary bent her arms and twisted slightly to allow the butler to put her pelise on her, she noticed that same glassy eyed expression on Mr. Bingley's face. It didn't take long to realize that he was staring directly at her chest.
Her still very exposed chest.
Hmm.
It was a rather curious situation Mary found herself in. She felt she should be outraged at the pleasant gentleman currently ogling her breasts. Everything she had thought about the world and life in general up to that point screamed at her to tell him to stop. But, and this was the pivotal revelation for Mary, she didn't feel any of those things. In fact, she felt an incredible surge of power course through her... along with a furious blush. In that moment she well understood why her youngest sister would want to wear dresses such as the one she had on. The power she currently held over Mr. Bingley could easily be misconstrued as some sort of control.
Maybe Lydia dressed this way to gain some semblance of control over her life?
Curious.
Mary still didn't feel comfortable being this exposed but she began to understand the difference between hiding yourself and allowing yourself to be seen. Not for her ample bosom, of course, but for her - who she was.
And, at this moment, she felt about as far from a potato as humanly possible.
"Miss Mary." Mr. Bingley spoke quietly and she realized they had been walking again in silence.
"Oh, Mr. Bingley! I apologize, I was woolgathering. Did you - um, did you need something?"
He beamed a smile at her so bright it threatened to throw her off balance. "I confess, I did. You offered to help me and I have need of some assistance." He ran his hands through his hair. "I hope you will not think ill of me, Miss Mary." His usually happy demeanor was clouded with a sudden insecurity.
"Mr. Bingley, I do not believe I could think ill of you, sir." Where had this sudden feeling of power come from? Mary hoped the happiness of the last two days was going to stay. She wasn't sure she would be able to go back to hiding behind ferns.
Mr. Bingley smiled happily and placed his hand on top of hers, snugly resting in the crook of his arm.
"Thank you, Miss Mary." He looked forward as the entered the small park, to the side of the house. "It is my sister." He peeked a look at Mary, seeming to examine her countenance. "She is upset over… er, some of the goings on at Netherfield and has repeatedly told me she is taking care of the issues. I confess, I am afraid of what she might -" He halted suddenly, his feet stopping along with his words. "What is that?" He tilted his head looking at a large bush leading from the back of the house.
It took Mary but a moment to change gears and look in the direction he was indicating.
"Hmm. Curious." She mumbled to herself before leaning forward to get a better look. She pulled back quickly, as though burned. "Blood, Mr. Bingley. I am quite sure this is blood."
/
Richard wearily made his way downstairs, slowing his step so as to not overtake Bingley and Miss Mary as they prepared for their walk. The two were a surprising fit but Richard was happy for the man. Bingley hadn't been waxing eloquent about her "angelic" looks the way he seemed prone to do (though he did insist she was the prettiest of the Bennet sisters, to which both he and Darcy disagreed). Instead he had been asking the men what Miss Mary would think about every menial decision he made.
"Do you think Miss Mary likes parsnips? What about turnips?"
Richard chuckled as he remembered the scowl Bingley's sister had on her face as her menu was second guessed against what Mr. Bingley thought Miss Mary would enjoy.
He caught the two of them leaving the house so he slipped into the breakfast room, blissfully alone.
It had been a hard night for the Major General. Between questioning Wickham again (to no avail) and worrying over Miss Bennet, his nightmares seemed nearly fitting with the rest of his worries.
Mornings were still the worst, however. Images of the night before still played in his mind and his leg ached the most after laying down for so long.
He took a glass from the sideboard, not bothering with a plate just yet, and filled his cup with brandy Bingley had stocked just for him.
He sat with a loud 'thunk' and stared at the amber liquid, swirling it around the glass and watching the light play through it, as he went back over a multitude of unpleasant thoughts. So caught up in the terror of the night was he that he missed entirely the sounds of happiness wafting through the corridor.
The door to the breakfast room opened and Darcy guided Miss Elizabeth inside before turning to guide Miss Bennet in as well.
His Miss Bennet.
He was on his feet in an instant.
"Miss Bennet? Should you be out of bed?" He was next to her in a flash, holding her arm and forcing himself not to pick her up.
She smiled at him and the warmth of her gaze seemed to clear his mind, offering him a momentary respite from himself. He damn near sighed.
He pulled out her chair, moving it slightly to the side to be closer to his chair before moving to make her a plate.
He piled on as much as the ridiculously small plate would take and brought it to her, pride surging through him at the feeling of providing for her.
She giggled when he placed the food in front of her. "Major General, do you truly expect me to eat all of this?"
He sat next to her with a smile, debating going and getting another roll to add to the pile.
"You need your strength, Miss Bennet."
"And you? Where is your breakfast?" She looked around playfully but Richard couldn't help the shame he felt. His eyes darted to his glass then back down at the table, not entirely sure what to say, how to explain.
He stared at the tablecloth before he felt her hand move to his under the table and he looked up at her in shock. She gave him a beautiful smile, not one of pity, he knew those all too well, and squeezed his hand, her cool demeanor unphased.
"It's a good thing I have so much." She said quietly but happily and buttered a roll before handing it to him. "We can share."
He was speechless, holding a hot breakfast bun in his hand while the butter melted and ran down the side. He wanted to look away, to say something equally as enchanting or do something other than stare at the most wonderful woman he had ever met, but he was incapable of doing anything other than that at the moment.
His frozen awe was broken as the door to the room was once again opened. This time was not nearly as pleasant, sadly.
Bingleys sister, Lady Bedford, pranced into the room. Richard was certainly not aware of ladies fashion but he did not believe wearing a hat was quite the thing one did as they broke their fast. Especially not one sporting an actual fowl.
He stood mechanically, welcoming her into the room. Darcy followed suit, moving slightly away from Miss Elizabeth as he had also pulled her chair far too close.
She stopped as she entered the room, surveying the inhabitants suspiciously, one by one. By the time she got to him, he had already sat back down, allowing Darcy the privilege of fetching her plate. He turned to speak to Miss Bennet before her dramatic inhalation startled him.
Not again.
"Major General!" Her voice was scolding, as though he were a child and not a grown man, a bloody warrior. "Do you have brandy in my breakfast parlor?!"
Her huff made him want to lose all sense of propriety and tell her exactly what he thought.
He started to say something, what it was he couldn't tell for the wonderful woman next to him shocked him speechless yet again.
"I apologize, Lady Bedford." Miss Bennet said in her naturally tempering tone. "It is for me." She forced a cough into her hand. "My, um, my mother believes it is good for the chest when ill." She picked up the glass, looking slightly nervous as she did so, and downed the contents in one large gulp.
She sputtered immediately and coughed in earnest before standing. "Ahh, much better." She barely croaked the words out in between coughs. "Now, if you will excuse me." Her voice stayed hoarse but she walked out of the room with her head held high.
Richard looked to Darcy and Miss Elizabeth, both still watching the door Miss Bennet had just quit, and he smiled wide, turning the happy gaze on Lady Bedford.
"It is medicinal, of course." He then strolled from the room to chase down his angel.
He found her not very far down the hall and he watched her stumble slightly before she righted herself. He ran to her, not even feeling his thigh scream as he did so, and scooped her up into his arms, placing a light kiss, their first, on her lips.
"Thank you." He whispered in quiet reverence.
"Thank you!" She giggled happily. "I was not entirely certain I was going to make it up the stairs. There are so many of them!"
"You are drunk, Miss Bennet." He squeezed her tight to him.
"Yes, I believe you are correct, Major General." She nodded to him seriously before falling into a fit of giggles.
He watched as she laughed. Her face majestic in the happy movement, the sound, so wonderful he wished he could keep it with him always as a balm to his entire being. He wished to keep her with him always.
"Major General." She had stopped her giggles but they were still present in her voice.
"Yes, Miss Bennet?"
"Will you marry me?"
He stopped walking, nearly losing his grip on her so he pulled her back in tighter.
"Are you - are you proposing to me?"
She closed her eyes and nodded, a wide smile splitting her face. "I am, Major General. I would also like for you to kiss me again."
He leaned in to acquiesce to her incredibly reasonable request but she stopped him with a delicate hand to his chest.
"Not unless you say yes, Major General." She had lost her giggles, her face still glowing with happiness but looking at him earnestly, hopefully.
"Yes, Miss Bennet. Dear God, yes." His lips crashed to hers, and they lost themselves, coming up for air only to delve back into the joy of intimate physical connection. He faintly heard the sound of the front door slamming and footsteps gaining on them but he could not be bothered to look up.
Richard had just found the greatest happiness the world had to offer and he was not about to give it up.
Not for anything.
/