Entertaining Unaware
There is a warning to be careful how you treat strangers because you never know who you might actually be meeting. Mary, the last and almost forgotten Miss Bennet, meets two fascinating strangers and eventually discovers that the warning was very true. A story to give Mary her happily ever after.
Chapter One – An unhappy prospect and new acquaintances
Excerpt from Mary Bennet's diary, August 1813
I am the last. I suppose that I have always been the last, and the least among my sisters, even though I was the middle child.
Today was Kitty's wedding day. She went to stay with Elizabeth and found a husband while I was left to rot here at Longbourn. I suppose that isn't fair to Lizzy. She did ask me first, but I turned her down. She probably thinks that it is because I don't like to travel, but that is not true. I want to travel! I want to see the whole world- if only there were not people in it- people who I have to speak with- people who will look down on me and laugh behind their hands.
I try so hard to be someone people will admire, like Lizzy. She is so smart and so clever and she always says the right things that make people nod their heads and smile.
I can never be like Jane, who is so beautiful that people stop speaking when she walks in a room. Somehow she remains kind and angelic even with all of the attention. Sometimes I think she is a little blind to the real world, but at least she is not cruel or petty like Lydia.
I would never want to be like Lydia, who is pretty, but who uses her prettiness to behave in a wanton manner. What did it do for her after all? She almost ruined our family and yet she still pranced around our home showing off her scapegrace of a husband as if she had landed the greatest prize. She will reap her own reward when her eyes are finally open, but I cannot pity her.
Kitty became a better person with Lydia gone. She and I even began to form a friendship I think. But then she went off to Pemberley and met Mr. Ludlow and now she will live far away in Cornwall.
And I remain here. At first I was afraid that Mama would turn her matchmaking obsession on me and marry me off to some fifty year-old farmer, but now it is even worse. Mama was so sad at having four daughters gone from home that she has declared that she will keep me home to take care of her in her old age!
This is true! She declared as much in front of everybody after Mr. Ludlow and Kitty departed for their wedding holiday. The Long girls were laughing at me behind their hands and Mrs. Parker was looking at me with pity. Even Papa looked amused as his drunk wife waxed eloquent about how I was a spinster and unmarriageable and how it was "best for all to stay right here at home and take care of her aging parents"!
I ran. I walked with my head down until I was out of sight and then I ran. I hate my mother! How can she be so cruel? How can she expect me to take care of her when she only acknowledges my existence long enough to scold me for being plain or tell me to stop playing the pianoforte? I will not do it!
I do not remember all of the places that I ran, but I ended up on the top of Oakham Mount, where I sat on Lizzy's favorite boulder and stared off into nothing. I do not know how long she was there before I knew it, but when I came to my senses there was a pretty little girl of no more than four holding my hand and leaning against me!
My first instinct was to jump up, but the girl looked up at me with her wide, worried, dark eyes and I didn't want to frighten her away. It is embarrassing to write, but for a moment I thought she must have been a faerie child. She had long, night-black hair and her skin was tanned even darker than Lizzy's in the middle of the summer. Her eyes were dark, deep pools, and so very expressive. Finally I found my voice, "Hello, my name is Mary. Who are you?"
She smiled and I thought she had the prettiest smile I had ever seen, "I'm Sophie." Then her face fell, "Why were you crying? Please do not be sad. Can you help me find my Papa?"
Almost like it was part of one of the Bard's plays, a deep voice sang out, "Sophie! Sophie!"
The little girl smiled again and hopped off of the boulder, "Come on! It's my Papa!"
And she dragged me down the trail until we came face to face with the handsomest man I've ever seen...
"Hello," the man was not terribly tall like Mr. Darcy, but he had the widest shoulders and a thick chest which strained his coat. He was dressed plainly, in serviceable clothes that did not quite match the fashion of the local farmers but definitely would not suit the gentry. If anything, Mary would define his attire as almost foreign and rustic. His face was weathered, like that of Colonel Fitzwilliam only more so. Here was a man who had spent years living out-of-doors and braving the elements fearlessly. Everything about the man appealed to something inside of Mary. She had never seen his equal.
A small hand tugged at hers and Mary blushed as she was brought to her senses. It was completely inappropriate for her to be examining a man in this way, just as it was wrong for her to speak to him without a proper introduction! What should she do? Little Sophie resolved the issue by saying, "Papa, this is Miss Mary. She was crying but I held her hand and now she's all better. Miss Mary, this is my Papa."
Mary blushed scarlet at the girl's innocent recounting, but the handsome man only gave her a deep bow and said, "It is my great honor to meet you, Miss Mary Bennet. I hope that you are well now and I thank you for looking after my naughty runaway daughter." His voice was rich and deep, his diction crisp and educated, though slightly foreign to her ears. His tone when speaking about his child was more amused than scolding.
Little Sophie clasped her hands and twisted her upper torso back and forth as she pouted and said, "I'm sorry, Papa. I shouldn't have gone so far ahead but you were talking to the man ever soooo long..." Mary watched the crinkle in the handsome man's eyes and knew that his daughter was a past master at wrapping her father around her tiny fingers.
Realizing that she should reply, she curtsied, "I am pleased to meet you, though I still do not know your name, Sir... wait... how did you know my family name?"
"You were too preoccupied with helping your sisters and mother, Miss Bennet, so you did not see me at the wedding. Sophie was tired after ceremony, so we chose not to attend the wedding breakfast."
"Oh! Then are you friend or family to Mr. Ludlow?" Mary was pleased to think that this man had noticed her and shocked at how comfortable she felt in conversing with him.
"Forgive me. Allow me to introduce myself: I am John Burnette and this is little sprite is my daughter Sophia Marie."
The little girl grinned, "Your name is almost like my other name. I like you. Please don't be sad any more." Her innocent sincerity made Mary smile brightly. She didn't notice as John Burnette's eye's widened for a moment at the beauty of her smile. Instead she knelt down to Sophie's level and took the little girl's hands.
"Do not worry, Miss Sophie. Meeting you has made all of the bad feelings fly away." She didn't add and your father, but her rebellious mind filled those words in anyway. Her own eyes widened as the dear little girl grabbed her in a big hug and said, "I like you!"
oOoOOoOo
On the road heading north towards Derbyshire, Elizabeth Darcy regarded her handsome husband and asked, "What has you so pensive, William?" Georgiana looked up from her book and looked at the pair across from her with the same question in her face.
"Huh? Oh! I apologize. I saw a familiar face from long ago at the wedding, but by the time we left the church he was gone. Did you happen to notice the large man sitting in the back left corner with the little girl?"
Georgiana looked dreamy for a moment, "Oh yes! I think all of the girls noticed him. He looked very rugged and oh so handsome. And strong! He looked like he could pick up a horse and carry it around!"
Darcy rolled his eyes. One of the by-products of her spending the past eight months with Miss Kitty was that she had lost most of her shyness and felt comfortable noticing handsome men... and talking about them. Georgiana's face turned more thoughtful, "I think that I remember the little girl too. Very pretty with dark eyes and tanner than a farmer."
Darcy looked at his wife, but Elizabeth shook her head, "I am afraid that my entire focus was on getting Kitty married without mishap and keeping Mama's nerves from getting worse. Besides..." she grinned at Georgiana, "I already have my handsome man and have no eyes for other men."
Georgiana giggled while Darcy laughed. Having heard both his wife and sister tease Kitty unmercifully about Ludlow, he knew that his wife could still notice a handsome man. But as long as her heart was his, then he was unconcerned. "That, my dears, was His Grace, Lord John Burnette."
"Oh! He's the one Miss Bingley was..."
Elizabeth had not heard any of that woman's gossip. She usually chose to stay as far away from Caroline Bingley as possible, even though the woman was almost related to her through Jane's marriage to Charles Bingley. Caroline continued to be a presence in their lives due to the fact that they were her only entry into the upper circles. She had attended the wedding with her brother and his wife because Mr. Ludlow was at the same level as Mr. Darcy, though the man was more of a presence in London than the Darcys.
Darcy answered his sister's unfinished question, "Lord Burnette was the fourth son of the third Duke of Durham. He was ahead of me at Cambridge and left after my first year. Since he had no chance of inheriting, he went to the Americas and joined up with the Hudson Bay Company, hunting and trapping all over the unsettled territories*, establishing trade-posts, and even helping to build a community. I understand that he made quite a fortune for himself and earned a good reputation with the company."
Darcy could see that his sister was waiting for the controversial part of the tale, the part someone like Caroline Bingley would certainly fixate on, "He married a native woman and they had a child, a little girl. His wife died soon after, but he kept his child near him and decided to pursue an occupation with less danger so that he could be there for her. And that is when the letters caught up with him informing him that he was the sole living heir and that his father was deathly ill.
"As you know, we are at war with the United States again. Burroughs made the journey to English shores with his little girl right through the American privateers and French frigates. When he arrived, he presented himself to his father. The old Duke took one look at John's daughter and demanded that the girl be set aside. John naturally refused and left the estate. The Duke raged for days until he went into apoplexy." Darcy paused as Elizabeth reached down and took his hand. He knew that her sharp mind was imagining the scene.
Darcy finished, "So now John is His Grace, the Fourth Duke of Durham. As you might imagine, the Ton would love to welcome him with open arms, but they look upon his daughter with loathing. Nobody will invite him into their homes while he keeps his native daughter in his home."
"But she is just a little girl! I saw her, Brother! She is a sweet, pretty little thing. How can they treat a little child so wrong? And why was it so wrong for him to marry that woman?"
Elizabeth, who had already experience her share of disdain from those who felt that she was overreaching by marrying into the Darcy family, was the one to answer, "Because anyone different frightens them... and because for many people the only way to convince themselves that they are elite is to push others down. To be the best, someone else must be the worst. The peoples that inhabited the Americas before Europeans lived there for a long time. The best way to justify taking their land is to convince ourselves that they must be less than us in the eyes of God and man. It is wrong, but it is the way our world operates."
Georgiana looked unhappy, yet she knew that her sister was right. Softly she said, "Well I hope that they never succeed in separating them."
Darcy laughed, "If I remember John Durham correctly, that will never happen."
They rode in silence for another few miles before Elizabeth wrinkled her brow and asked, "Why was a duke attending Kitty's wedding?"
"Because Anthony Ludlow is his cousin... and the person most likely to inherit the title if John Burnette had died in the Americas."
Elizabeth giggled, causing the other two to look at her inquisitively. "I was just thinking that it is a very good thing that Mama never heard anything about that!" Georgiana giggled as well. Then Darcy chuckled. Soon all three were laughing loudly.
Author's Note: *The British referred to the area spanning from Oregon to the Tundra as the "unsettled territories," making it obvious that they believed that they had a prior claim. In 1813 the race to settle those areas was just escalating into the quiet struggle for expansion which eventually defined our current borders between the U.S. and Canada. The Hudson Bay Company and the Northwest Company were fur-trading rivals who did the most in mapping and exploring these area... completely ignoring the fact that the Native Americans had been settled there for hundreds of years.
Chapter Two – Fordyce vs Wollstonecraft
Excerpt from Mary Bennet's diary, August 1813
Mr. Burroughs has very definite views about certain things, especially where it concerns his little Sophia. He does not subscribe to the idea that women should be ignorant and completely submissive like so many Englishmen...
"May I ask what you are reading, Miss Bennet?"
Mary jumped, startled to hear another voice here on Oakham Mount... not that she should have been so surprised. This was the fifth time in the past eight days that he and his lovely little daughter has ascended the hill... she knew this, and yet she continued to come. Perhaps it was wrong to meet the pair so often in such a secluded place... and yet each day without rain found her following the same path.
She also knew that Mr. Burroughs had his own reasons for bringing little Sophia up here. Her reception in England was far from kind, even in little Meryton which was usually a friendly place. John Burroughs must have his reasons for remaining in the area, but most of the time he spent with his daughter and away from others. Mary knew this, and she was certain that he was not climbing the hill to see her... but a part of her wished that was his reason.
"Miss Bennet?"
"Oh! Yes... I am reading Fordyce's sermons."
"Surely you jest? Why would you waste your keen intellect on such rubbish?"
Mary flinched as if struck. She was used to her mother, her father, and her younger sisters poking fun and insulting her interests, but until now Mr. Burroughs had been so kind. Tears sprung to her eyes and she stood, fumbling with her dress and her book, unable to respond in any intelligible manner. As she started to move away, however, a large hand grabbed her arm gently but firmly, "Mary, please... I apologize. I did not mean... I never meant to insult you. Please stay?"
Mary was humiliated by her tears, so she kept her face turned and only nodded. She remained standing, incredibly aware of the hand holding her arm... aware that her arm was bare and he wore no gloves. When that hand gently pulled her and guided her back to her perch, Mary sat, but kept her face down.
"Papa, what's wrong with Miss Mary?"
"Little one, I need to speak with Mary. Could you do me a favor and go pick her some wildflowers?"
"Yes Papa," Sophie chirped and skipped away.
John Burroughs bent down into a sitting position, resting on his heels, "Miss Bennet... Mary... I only meant that a young woman with such a delightful mind must surely find difficulty with a preacher who instructs woman to pretend ignorance if they do have a brain? Or a preacher, a man of God, who suggests that if a husband strays, it must be the wife's fault? A woman as intelligent and interesting as you should be honored and cherished, not pushed aside to polish men's self-aggrandizement."
Mary finally looked up, worrying her hands on her book, "I am not interesting or intelligent." She did not flinch or pull away when those warm hands took away the book and held hers. There was something so comforting in the way her little hands fit into those powerful ones.
"Miss Bennet, I know that you feel that your second sister is the most intelligent, and perhaps she is... but I do not know her and I have spoken with you many times now. You are intelligent and you are interesting... to me and to my Sophie. I have enjoyed our conversations. It pains me to think that you look so lowly upon yourself... and this..." he removed one hand and picked up the offensive book, "Is the work of a man who should have spent more time reading his Bible than echoing the prejudices of his society."
Perhaps realizing that he had pushed propriety too far, he gently released Mary's hands and took a seat beside her, though with a little distance, "Have you read Mary Wollstonecraft?"
"No! Is she not a fallen woman?"
John sighed, "Mrs. Wollstonecraft wrote intelligently about the problems facing women in a man's world. Her arguments were strident, perhaps, but mostly reasonable and worthy of consideration. True, she had a babe out of wedlock... and that was foolish... but the same men who most aggressively denounced her, even in the halls of Parliament, often visited their mistresses instead of going straight home..." At Mary's gasp, Mr. Burroughs quickly said, "I apologize for such an improper statement, but which is worse: to acknowledge a sin or to commit a sin? You are instructed by men like Fordyce that such information should never pass your lips, and that any woman caught in such acts is to be publicly shunned and pilloried, but what about the men who commit those acts without any consequences or shame?"
Mary pondered this, pushing aside her preconceptions for a moment to reply, "It does not seem fair."
"It is neither fair nor Biblical, Miss Mary Bennet. 'Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone'?" He said the last with a raised eyebrow. "Did you ever notice that everyone, every single person, dropped their stones and walked away? And yet Mrs. Wollstonecraft is denigrated and deemed unworthy to read while Lord Byron's works sell by the thousands and are read in the greatest estates in our kingdom. Now, may I tell you what she says?"
Mary nodded and Burroughs quoted, "'Strengthen the female mind by enlarging it, and there will be an end to blind obedience.' Miss Mary, of all of your sisters, who do you look up to the most?"
"Lizzy... Mrs. Darcy. Jane is wonderful, but I would turn to Lizzy for advice and guidance."
"And do you think that Mr. Darcy wishes her to be quiet and submissive?"
Mary surprised herself with a giggle. The thought of Lizzy behaving that way was completely foreign. Thinking about this and remembering the Darcy's interactions, she responded, "No. I think he likes debating with her. They certainly do it often enough."
Burroughs nodded, "That is what I want for my Sophie. I do not ever wish for her to be submissive and subordinated by her husband. I hope that she will grow up to be a woman of knowledge and opinions like you and your sister..." Mary sat up a little straighter at hearing herself included in that description, "And should I ever remarry, that is what I will seek in a wife."
Mary could not look John Burroughs in the face at that moment. If she had, she would have seen his eyes looking quite thoughtfully at her.
Any further discussion was set aside after this as Sophie ran up to the pair with an armful of beautiful but bedraggled looking flowers and a huge smile. She handed the rumpled bouquet to Mary proudly and then gave the young lady a heartfelt hug. Mary could not hide the loving smile on her face when she returned that unconditional love.
Her eyes went to those of Mr. Burroughs, who was still kneeling in front of her, "Miss Bennet, my Sophie loves you already... and I am rapidly following suit. I would very much like it if you would consider becoming my wife and Sophie's mother..."
Mary's eyes went wide with shock and happiness, but John forestalled her answer by holding up one large, calloused hand. "Before you answer, please let me tell you why I came to little Meryton in the first place..."
Chapter Three – Broken bones, tears, and the greatest of joys
Excerpt from Mary Bennet's diary, September 1813
It is improper! I know it is improper! Yet once again this morning I woke early and took that paths worn down by Lizzy and found myself on Oakham Mount. I did not know that they would come there, but the past three weeks have made it very very likely. We do not arrange to meet, but each morning that it doesn't rain I find myself hoping...
Mary heard the giggles on the wind even before she heard the heavy clop of horse hooves. She smiled pensively. John... Mr. Burnette, you fool... was such a good, kind, and attentive father to little Sophie. She wished that she had enjoyed such a bond with her own father. A pang of irritation and hurt discomfited her as she thought of the her father. She knew the contours of her father's study door better than she knew her father. Even now, with four daughters married and gone, he barely acknowledged her presence.
Mr. Burnette' massive charger crested the hill and Mary's momentary irritations flew away at the sight of father and daughter. Fearless as always, Sophie had squirmed out of her father's arm and dropped the distance from saddle to ground without waiting for Odina to come to a full halt. John... Mr. Burnette had told Mary that "Odina" meant "mountain" in his deceased wife's tongue. One day little Sophie had begged him to tell the story of how he met Odina, one of her favorite stories from her Papa.
In his deep and rich voice, John Burnette told of how he had been setting traps on a mountainside when he took a wrong step and tumbled down a cliff face. When he came to his leg was broken and his head was bleeding. He thought his life was over because he was more than a day's journey from any civilization. He drifted in and out of consciousness until a warm, soft muzzle nudged him awake. For reasons he would never understand, the great stallion had found him there in a ravine and woken him.
John's tale had avoided most of the gory details for the sake of his daughter and the young lady listening, but Mary's imagination was able to fill in the information that he left out. She couldn't understand why her heart ached at the thought of this man's sufferings, but it did. It was a shock to Mary, who had never liked to be near any horse, how much she liked Odina for what the horse had done. He had kept nudging the trapper until the man finally gave up and stayed awake. Then the very intelligent horse had folded his legs and sat his body on the ground so that John could drag himself onto the animal's back.
"I must have passed out from the pain, but this old fellow somehow kept me on his back, made his way down the mountain, and carried me for miles until we came to an Indian village. That is where I met Wawetseka, Sophia's mother. Her father was the medicine man. He set my leg and treated my other injuries. For some reason he allowed Wawetseka to nurse me. I could not help but fall in love."
Mary had felt a pang at those words that she did not fully understand. John... Mr. Burnette... continued with his tale, "As I recovered and we talked, I learned that Wawetseka was a very intelligent young woman, in fact, perhaps too intelligent as far as the young men in her tribe were concerned. As a young girl she had befriended the wife of the proprietor of the white trading post and that woman had taught her how to read and write. Wawetseka had a thirst for knowledge, so she absorbed everything she could from anyone who would talk with her. The unfortunate effect of this was that she became somewhat of an anomaly to her own tribesmen.
"When I could walk again, she and I and Odina would stroll around the valley where they camped. Odina, for reasons that I will never know, had attached himself to me so completely that he was almost more like a loyal dog than a horse. Odd thing: nobody had ever seen the horse before. Nobody has tried to claim him since. Such a magnificent animal, already trained to saddle, should have belonged to somebody, but nobody ever spoke up... so he became mine.
"As you might expect, by the time that I was fit to travel again, the thought of leaving Wawetseka behind was too much to bear. I suppose that she must have felt the same way, because when I spoke to her father, he seemed surprised that I needed to ask for her hand. In his mind, the match was already made. So we had an Algonquin ceremony there in that mountain valley, and just to keep things proper with my faith we did it again in the small chapel at the trading post.
"Wawetseka traveled with me for the next two years. We traversed country no white man had ever seen until we came to the westernmost coast. Oh, Miss Bennet, it would be difficult to describe all of the amazing things we saw in that great land. The Peak and Lake Districts here in England have nothing on the beauties of that great continent. I have seen mountains that kiss the heavens and span from north to south farther than the eye can see. I have seen inland lakes so large that they have their own tides. There are trees so old and massive on that western coast that ten men could stand at their base with their arms stretched and their fingertips would not touch each other. It is a wondrous place."
Mary had been so caught up in the tale that she had barely registered when little Sophie climbed into her lap and fell asleep. Now she looked down on the dear child and her heart, already beating fast, almost broke for the poignancy of the moment. Without understanding why, tears had begun streaming down her face.
Concerned, Mr. Burnette had softly asked, "Why do you cry, Mary?" She noticed his use of her given name, but had not the slightest desire to correct him. His kind attentions only caused her to break into a sob. Her face was so desolate that the powerful man moved almost wrapped her in his arms. He had to remind himself that he was in England, where such thing were not done. He did cast propriety aside enough that he took one slender hand in his two large ones and held it.
When his pleading finally calmed her, Mary had a moment of uncharacteristic forthrightness. "I just... it's just, I will never see places like that. I will never have a dear child to love like this precious girl. My sisters are all married and now my mother has decided that it is best for me to stay at home and take care of my parents in their old age. I am to sacrifice myself for their comfort... and I know that is what a dutiful daughter would do, but the thought of it breaks my heart!"
John had enough conversations with Mary to know that her parents had barely acknowledged her existence for most of her life. How dare they expect her to devote herself to them now?! He would not have it! He would not stand for it!
"Marry me, Mary."
Through teary eyes the young woman looked up, thinking that she had misunderstood, "What?"
"Be my wife, Mary. Be Sophie's mother."
"But... but why would you want me? I'm not pretty like my sisters. I'm not perfect like Jane. I'm not clever like Lizzy. I am not even creative like Kitty." She did not even mention Lydia, since she had never had any relationship except for contention with that foolish girl. "You are big and handsome and kind and... judging from the fact that you are leasing Netherfield you must be wealthy. So why would you wish to tie yourself to someone like me?"
John lifted the slender hand that was still in his and kissed it, enjoying the flush that seemed to cover every exposed inch of Mary's skin. He smiled, "I am very pleased that you find me handsome. And it is true that I am wealthy. You are entirely wrong about your own attractions: You are very pretty in my eyes. Not just your physical person, but the beautiful soul that is inside. Mary, while it is true that I might be able to choose from a large selection of the ladies of the Ton, not one of them interests me. First of all, all they would care about would be my wealth and position. And even more important, I have seen the way that they look at my Sophie. The very first action any of them would take in marrying me would be to shunt Sophie off where she would not be seen."
Mary's instant reaction to this was to narrow her eyes and hold the sleeping child closer, "They would not dare!"
John smiled tenderly, "They will never have the chance. I care for only one woman and she is the only woman I will marry. Marry me, Mary? If you cannot yet love me, then marry me for Sophie's sake."
There were tears in Mary's eyes again, but she looked boldly into the eyes of her suitor and declared, "I already love you, John Burnette. I have loved you for some time now. And I love Sophie so dearly. I would be pleased to be your wife and Sophie's mother."
Her eyes widened as the large man leaned over his sleeping daughter and, smiling, he asked, "May I kiss you, My Love?"
Looking like a frightened hare, she managed to nod. Mary had never been kissed, even by her own parents. Before meeting John Burnette she had been mostly disgusted with the idea. Since meeting him, her thoughts had drifted that direction many times and she had kissed him in her dreams. Nothing compared to the real thing. Their kiss deepened and grew in intensity until a little giggle startled them both. Sophie, looking up, said, "I knew you liked her, Papa. Is Miss Mary going to be my Mama?"
John smiled broadly and took his dear child into his arms, swinging the giggling girl around. "Yes! She's going to be my wife and your new Mama! Are you pleased?"
"Oh yes, Papa! She's the bestest. But can we go back to our real home? I don't like that big house of Grandpa's."
John's face lost some of its smile and he sat his daughter down on the log. Then he turned to Mary and took a knee so that they were looking face to face, "There is one thing about me that you need to know, Mary... and a decision that we need to make."
When John Burnette completed his story and stated his intent, Mary was left in shock. She had no idea that the handsome woodsman in whose company she had reveled was actually a Duke! And even more startling, he intended to surrender his title and estates in England in favor of his cousin, Anthony Ludlow... the man who had just married her sister Kitty!
Yet when he explained his reasons and his reasoning, Mary gave not a thought to the title. How dare people suggest setting that darling little girl aside like so much rubbish! How could they claim to serve God? How could they even dare to darken the doors of a church and think such thoughts!
"You cannot ever give in to them! That title, those estates, they are nothing! How dare they say such things!"
"Then you are in agreement then?"
Mary was confused, having already forgotten this wonderful man's proposal in the face of such injustice. Then she realized that her hands were in his again, and she understood his question, "John Burnette, I will go wherever you go and live as you live so long as Sophia is there with us. Let Mr. Ludlow have the title. Kitty will have much to learn, but she will make him a fine duchess. I want none of that... I want you and Sophia."
John smiled happily and hugged Mary to him. Sophia, still young and not fully understanding all that had been spoken of, joined in the hug happily. She though Miss Mary the most wonderfullest person in the world next to her Papa and was glad that she would be her Mama.
That day the Mary walked down the hill alone, while the Duke and his happy daughter rode back to Netherfield. Mary endured her mother's prattling and pronouncements all day, but when she returned to her room that evening she took stock of the items in her room and began deciding what would go with her on a journey.
In the early hours of the following day, while Fanny Bennet still slept, John Burnette presented himself at Longbourn and then asked to speak with Mr. Bennet. Thomas Bennet had noticed the powerfully built man at his wedding but had no idea why he would be in his bookroom. He was even more shocked when the man stated, "I have asked your daughter Mary to be my bride and she has consented."
Thomas tried to gain some breathing space by stating, "Sir, I do not even know who you are. Why should I let you have my daughter."
John wanted to demand Why would you allow your wife to humiliate her? but instead he answered, "Pardon me, I am Lord John Burnette, the fourth Duke of Durham, though that will soon change."
Thomas was rocked back by the presence of a duke in his little book room, yet he held enough of his intellect to ask, "Why would that change?"
"Because after our interview I mean to ride to London to meet with His Highness, the Regent, and turn over my title and estates in Great Britain to my cousin, Anthony Ludlow."
Thomas realized that it was now Kitty, and not Mary, who would suddenly become a duchess. The idea boggled his mind, so he asked, "Why would you do something like that?"
John explained everything with great clarity, leaving Thomas Bennet scratching his chin. Finally he asked, "And my Mary knows all of this and agrees?"
"She does, but you should speak with her yourself. My Sophia is quite taken with your daughter, as am I. And to remove any fear that I am taking her out to the wilds to die, I should explain that I set aside trapping soon after my child was born. I have a large home in Hallifax, larger than Netherfield, from which I run a large trading concern. Miss Mary will never want for anything, nor will my daughter or any other children we have. It is truly no hardship to give Anthony my estates and title here in England."
Thomas seemed to relax for the first time, "I had thought to take Mary with me on several trips to see if I could find her a husband away from my wife. Perhaps I should have reassured Mary about this so that she did not think that I had abandoned her to her mother's plans. But this is both unexpected and fitting. A man who would abandon so much for the sake of his daughter would also treat my Mary with the love and respect she deserves. You have my blessing, though I would like to speak with Mary as well."
John stood, his large frame seeming to fill the room, "Thank you, Mr. Bennet. I am pleased to hear that you were not supporting your wife's schemes. Miss Mary was quite hurt by her mother's thoughtless words. I will speak with Mary now, before I depart for London, and then send her to you. Please let her know that at least one of her parents cared about her future."
Thomas, chastened, did exactly that. He truly felt the pain of guilt when Mary burst into tears. He was only able to quell those tears by getting his Mary to talk about John and Sophia Burnette.
Chapter Four – Happy returns and happier departures
Excerpt from Mary Bennet's diary, October 1813
John and Sophia were gone for five long days, the longest days of my life! My father continued to demonstrate his care for me by inviting me into his book room each morning. As he stated it: soon you will be gone, further than any of my daughters. I may never see you again, so I must make up for my neglect and see you as often as you are willing now.
My mother was shocked and blissfully speechless when a crested carriage pulled into our drive and my dear little Sophia hopped out to jump into my arms. Then John, the giant of a man that he is, stepped out. He is so large that carriage rocks when he exits. If mama was shocked before, she shrieked when John swept me into his arms and twirled me around, then kissed me soundly right in front of my parents and the Hills!
Yet I felt not one mite of shame! He is back and we are to marry!
Mary shook her head and ignored her mother's repetitive questions even as John demonstrated amazing patience in answering. "Yes, Mrs. Bennet, when your daughter Kitty and her husband Anthony return, they will be the Duke and Duchess of Durham. Notice has already been sent by the Crown along the route that they followed for their wedding trip. Meanwhile, I have secured a common license, with which Mary and I will be wed tomorrow. Your husband has already given his consent.
"We have to marry so quickly because I, Mary, and our daughter Sophia (he did not mention his stallion, that would have just confused her more) have passage booked to Halifax in one week. Before that time we must travel to Liverpool, purchase certain items, and board our ship."
Mrs. Bennet would have continued in this vein for another few hours or days had not her husband Thomas Bennet intervened, "Dear, you seem to be missing the fact that your daughter will be married at ten of the clock tomorrow, which means that you need to have some manner of wedding breakfast prepared. Also, you might want to have someone, perhaps your sister, spread the word."
This broke the lady out of her confusion and she immediately tried to go ten directions at once, eventually ordering the carriage to make purchases and spread the word.
Thomas Bennet sighed, "From tomorrow on not one word of sense will be spoken in this house unless we have visitors. Mary, I am deeply sorry that none of your sisters will make it in time for your wedding. I sent expresses to Jane and Elizabeth, but I do not know if the letters will find them and where. I hope that you are not too disappointed?"
Mary was disappointed, but not hurt. She knew that Jane and Elizabeth would have come if they could have. She had also developed a closer relationship with Kitty, but she was still out of contact on her wedding trip. Of Lydia she could feel no concern.
John took Mary's hand, "I am sorry, Dear. Had I thought this through better I could have arranged a delay, but as it is..." Mary shook her head, "I will write to my sisters and Papa. Correspondence over such a vast distance may be uncertain, but we will keep in contact. That will be enough. I will have you and Sophia."
The next morning as Thomas Bennet was walking his last unmarried daughter down the aisle, there was a clamor at the entrance. Mary glanced back and was delighted to tears to see not only Kitty, but also Jane and Elizabeth and all three husbands.
Her smile as she continued on to meet John at the altar was so bright that some of the local men wondered how they could have ever overlooked her beauty.
There were those who still whispered behind their hands and who disparaged little Sophia, but none dared to do to the Burnette family's face. The three sisters and their husbands were all that was kind and welcoming to the little girl.
Anthony, the new Duke of Durham, had a few words for his cousin, but he understood and seemed prepared to take on the onerous duties of the dukedom.
Thomas Bennet kept his wife home after the wedding breakfast. The Bingleys, Darcys, and Ludlows made a caravan to Liverpool to send the Burnette family off to Halifax. All three couples made certain that little Sophia knew that she was always welcome in their homes and they hoped that she would write as well.
It was with tearful but happy goodbyes that Mary Burnette departed England's shores with her new husband and daughter. In the following years their fur empire expanded into other goods, so that they were exceedingly wealthy by the time that Sophia was old enough to wed. Thankfully in Canada there were enough men of good character who saw her beauty, grace, and intelligence rather than any imagined taint. She married a man who worked with her father and they became partners in the business.
Mary never returned to England's shores, but two of her three sisters made it to Halifax for at least one visit. By then Halifax was a thriving metropolis, enough to astound their families from England. Mary had no way to prove it except her own feelings, but she would always thereafter classify herself as the "happiest Bennet sister."
AN: I have no ideas of the legalities involved in surrendering a title in favor of another relative, no do I wish to research the matter for this work of fiction. I hope that the legalists among you can enjoy my story for what it is: fiction.
I may write Kitty's story as well, but as of yet nothing is fixed in my head... perhaps once my head is fixed? Who knows. Until then, happy reading and have a good day.