Hello all,
After a year long break, I'm back! Reviews, favourites, follows are all very encouraging, they made my day when I got new ones. I'll be honest: I'm not sure how regularly I'll post, and even though I'm a little bit ahead it's not much. I hope you still enjoy the story :)
A brief summary of what happened previously :
Mary (a computer science major from the 21st century) landed in the body of Mary Bennet. She has been eagerly awaiting the events of Pride and Prejudice, but things haven't happened as they should. Lizzie is now married to Mr Gregory, a professor in mathematics (who Mary quite liked). Jane is married to Bingley, even though it's only February and she should be crying her eyes out in London. Instead, Mary was invited to London by the Gardiners, because she refused Mr Collins and Mrs Bennet was angry at her. Mary doesn't want to marry, but now Kitty and Lydia say they won't marry either.
Mary has seen Mr Darcy once again in London. She didn't like him at first, but now she's warming to him a bit. He has insulted her looks, the way she plays the piano, but has also asked her to dance at Netherfield, asked her to be his friend, brought her to London in his carriage, and has met the Gardiners (surprise, surprise, they get along). Last chapter Mary and the Gardiners went to the ball, and Mr Darcy asked Mary to dance - "to escape his admirers", he said.
She has also met Monsieur Breton, a frenchman who is busy making a patent for a new loom which could revolutionize the market.
I dread going down to breakfast after the ball - I expect some sort of remark about Mr Darcy and I dancing together (technically two sets, Mrs Bennet could never) but Mr and Mrs Gardiner are very discreet, and Mrs Gardiner only speaks of the Darcys' to mention we should visit Georgiana soon.
The initial visit is delayed (Darcy told me Georgiana is sick), but then we get into a good weekly visit rhythm.
At first, Georgiana is quite shy, in particular when we meet again after a while. But, with time, she becomes more comfortable around Mrs Gardiner and I, and even the children. Mr Darcy often accompanies her when she comes to visit, and he helps her to be more outgoing, I think.
Our friendship starts around the piano, where we practice duets (and I get seriously impressed with Georgiana's skills all over again every time), and then we share small tidbits of our everyday life. She is clearly in awe of Mr Darcy - which I was expecting, a bit, but really sometimes it feels like she's trying to sell him or something. At one point, she even mentioned "he has really good teeth, also!"
"As any self respecting gentleman should, if he can at all manage it," I quip back, with what I call my 'hoity toity' voice (I can't tell her it's based off what I imagine Lady Catherine would sound like, of course, but credit should be given to the Great Lady). Georgiana blushes a bit at that. She's still not quite used to my brand of humour. Lydia, or maybe Lizzie, would have answered with "And a fine horse, as well, with even better teeth" - I miss my sisters sometimes.
"But I will agree that your brother's teeth are perfectly as they should be, Georgie."
She hates the nickname, so I'm sure it will get a rise out of her.
"Oh, I wish you wouldn't call me that, Mary. My cousin Fitwilliam uses the same one whenever he wants to make me feel particularly little."
"That won't do!" I burst in mock outrage. "You must punish him with an equally ridiculous nickname - how about Fitz?"
"That's what he calls my brother"
"Oh, that won't do. You Darcy siblings need to stick together. What's his first name?"
"Richard."
"Oh, perfect! Call him Dick."
"Dick?" Georgie asks, perfectly confused. I understand her; 'Dick' being the go to nickname for 'Richard' always baffled me, but there you are. It is suitably ridiculous, though. I just hope that the term hasn't made it to Regency slang, though. From Georgiana's reaction, I don't think so, and I have certainly never heard it mentioned.
"Exactly ! It's the beauty of nicknames - they don't have to make sense."
"I think I like 'Dick'. Maybe I'll call him 'Dickie' if he's being particularly obnoxious."
"That's the spirit! Shall we join the others? My aunt mentioned we would would only have the time for a short visit - she has an errand to run."
Georgiana and I return to the Darcy's parlour, but there is only Mr Darcy, reading a book.
These last few weeks, I've been seeing quite a bit of Mr Darcy. Always with Georgiana, of course, since she is the one really visiting, but I have to say, I didn't expect him to be such an attentive brother to her as to practically spend his days with her. I guess there were some times when Mrs Gardiner and I visited Darcy House and he wasn't there, but otherwise he hasn't missed a visit to Gracechurch street.
"Oh, have you finished practicing?" he asks nonchalantly, placing a ribbon in his book as a placemark. "I haven't heard the piano for ten minutes, at least."
Georgiana blushes, but I happen to think we're allowed our own private conversations, so I just ignore his fishing and ask "where is my aunt?"
"She left to run an errand. She'll come to pick you up later. I suggested you could have luncheon with us, if you like."
I readily agree - this should be a treat. The Darcy's always have the best of everything - their house is in the best area in London, they have really efficient staff, Georgie's piano is practically fit for a concert hall, you name it.
My reasoning: the food here is going to be incredible.
And it is, of course. I don't touch any of the congealed jellies (I mean, why? Sometimes I just miss good old pizza), but the rest is delicious. Georgiana tells us all about a new design for a table she is trying out - apparently, her previous version wasn't up to her standards. Personally, I think it's pretty enough - the craftsman has made a good job of fitting two different woods together to make a pretty pattern in the center, but Georgiana is unhappy with the finished result.
"I mean, it was supposed to be symmetrical, but natural looking, you know?"
"I think it's a beautiful design, my dear."
"Ugh, you simply don't understand beautiful things. Mary will agree with me, won't you, Mary?"
I glance at the - frankly beautiful - table.
"I'm sorry, Georgiana, but I don't see what's wrong with it." I admit.
"You just have equally bad taste, the both of you," Georgiana complains. She's really gotten out of her shell with me - I'm glad.
"I'd be interested in seeing how you make these designs, Georgie," I pipe in to change the topic. "My work with Monsieur Breton shows me I am seriously lacking in carpentry knowledge."
Georgiana almost squeals in delight (but she is of course much too proper to do something quite so Lydia-esque), grabs her sketching book and proceeds to explain every little detail concerning the table in front of us. I admit, I thought she had only imagined the pretty shape at the table top, but she also imagined these neat little drawers and even a concealed compartment. How spicy. What do you put in a hidden compartment? And why don't modern tables have some of those?
Madeline arrives just as she has finished showing off her invention, but I know that we will discuss this extensively during our next visit.
March passes by lazily, the only real news comes from Lizzie, surprisingly. Apparently, Mr Gregory's mentor, Mr Hutton, passed away and he inherited a good sized estate in Kent. Lizzie went to visit it with Mr Gregory, and she reports it's about half the size of Longbourn. I think she is quite pleased; although she enjoys the life of a teacher's wife (debates with the philosophy department wifes are very lively, apparently), she must have felt a bit left out with Jane's Mr Bingley setting himself up to be a proper landowner soon.
I casually mention this during one of the Darcy's visits to Gracechurch street. I want to see how he will react to the mention of his would-be lover.
"Oh, perhaps you have heard this yourself, Mr Darcy, I have had news from Mr and Mrs Gregory."
Darcy turns from where he was listening in on Madeline and Georgiana's discussion on lace (nope, not going there, apparently I have no eye for the stuff and "if you can't tell the difference between Valenciennes and Brussels lace, your opinion counts as much as Mr Darcy's." Humph. It's white, frilly, and has holes in it. I don't see any point to the stuff except perhaps to try to make some and sell it for a profit.) "No, I haven't had any news from Charles since his wedding, and Mr Gregory and I are not so close that we correspond regularly."
"My sister tells me that Mr Gregory has inherited a small estate in Kent from his former mentor, who passed away recently."
"What a stroke of luck for your sister," Mr Darcy comments, rather drily, I think. I get the feeling he thinks I am boasting about her. Urgh. I wasn't expecting this reaction at all.
"Indeed," I agree. Then, more to keep up the conversation than anything else, I add "Lizzie tells me that they shall stay at school for now, as she and Mr Gregory enjoy spending time with fellow academics. Perhaps they will settle there in a few years, if they start to build a family."
I'm looking him dead in the eye and he can't care less. What is wrong with him? "Are you looking forward to having nieces and nephews?"
His question throws me. To be honest, I've just spent about a decade being considered a small child, so I should be sick and tired of kids. But they're so cute! And my sister's children would be so sweet. I'd be their favourite aunt, of course. "Yes, I think so," I answer truthfully. "I have always enjoyed spending time with little children - they think so differently, and their sweet innocence is so endearing. Of course, them being my own sister's children would make them even dearer to me than others. Except Isabella and little George, of course. I would love them all equally."
Mr Darcy's eyes warm as he smiles at the Gardiner children who are playing in the room.
"I've always known I would have children of course, but I have never spent much time with any. I suppose women are more encouraged to take care of their siblings or young family. Do you think you will miss not having children of your own, with your resolution not to marry?"
I'm a bit surprised at the more intimate question, but Mr Darcy has expressed curiosity about my choice several times now. I get it; it's weird. "I hadn't thought about it," I answer hesitantly. It's true - I haven't. I didn't think further into the future than the events of Pride and Prejudice, really. I guess I was kind of hoping I would disappear back into the 21st century. Now that the main events - Lizzie and Jane's weddings (although not to the right grooms) are over, maybe I should think about this a little more.
This winter I was already considering that marriage to somebody like Mr Gregory, who would respect me and promise never to abuse the power a husband has over his wife, could be nice. I've been doing my own things, like the piano, and my little investments, but otherwise my main occupation has been watching how my sisters would grow, and seeing how they'll turn out. But once they're all married off - and half of them already are in one fell swoop - then what shall I do? Stay in Longbourn, stuck between Mr and Mrs Bennet? I shudder at the thought of having Mrs Bennet's undivided attention.
But I really don't like the concept of owing obedience to anybody but myself, of having no financial independence, and being mostly considered valuable for the number of male heirs I can pop out. And if I get married in this period, I can't really complain about that.
"Miss Bennet?" Darcy is looking at me with something like concern in his gaze.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I was woolgathering. You were asking me about children, weren't you? It set me thinking. I don't think I've ever really thought about wanting children of my own, you see." I explain in a rush.
He leans back, watching me with an inscrutable gaze. "I would have thought that it would factor in quite strongly in your decision not to marry," he points out.
I shrug, not really knowing what to say. "I suppose so. Then again, my decision not to marry has never been truly tested - I have never met somebody I would wish to marry," I explain with a smile, trying to joke my way out of the topic.
Mr Darcy smiles, but it doesn't go to his eyes. "Ah, yes, it's what you told me - looking for somebody worthy. I wish you the best of luck." He takes his pocket watch out and glances at it. "Oh, Georgiana, I think we might be overstaying our welcome. Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs Gardiner, next time you come to Darcy House, you must remind me to show you our greenhouses, I think you'll enjoy them. Our orchids in particular are blooming."
They leave with the usual bustle, and the rest of the afternoon continues peacefully. I take Isabella and George on a walk and watch them play. Do I want to have children of my own? In this time?
I don't know.
By the time April is upon us, the weeks pass by in a comfortable blur of visits with Georgiana and Mr Darcy, walks to the park with my young cousins, and helping Monsieur Breton with his loom project.
In essence, I'm helping him with the design, and writing up his patent. He initially only asked for help with the patent, since his written English is terrible. I agreed to sign the equivalent of an NDA, in return for a share of his profit (a measly 8%) once he starts mass producing his new loom. Does it count as insider trading if I know this will revolutionize the market? I don't think about it too much, but I did also instruct my uncle to keep an ear out for anyone developing a steam engine, since he seems to be interested in innovations. He looked at me a bit strangely, but I pretended to have read about it somewhere in my father's (admittedly eclectic) library.
I've just returned from a nice long afternoon at Monsieur Breton's study, and I'm already rubbing ink away from my stained fingers in the kitchen, when Madeline comes to join me.
"Mary, dear, your Uncle has just received a most distressing letter. Could you please join us in his study?"
Worried at her tone of voice, I immediately dry my hands on my apron and follow her upstairs.
In his study, my uncle, usually so active and jovial, is sitting at his desk, his head in his hands.
"Aunt? Uncle? What is the matter?"
"Oh, Mary, I am so sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings. Perhaps it is best if you read this letter from your mother directly."
He pushes a slightly worn sheet of paper at me.
My dear Brother,
I am distraught. I cannot give you the details, as I am too flustered to write you a proper letter. I'll let Kitty or Lydia or Hill give you the full account. My husband, Mr Bennet, was found dead in his library yesterday morning. It was horrible - as you can imagine I am completely at my wit's end. My poor nerves have taken quite a shock and I am quite unable to leave my room.
Mr Collins arrived at Longbourn this afternoon. I was able to rouse myself to greet him, but I confess it has weakened me greatly. Oh brother, I am in sore need of support in this time of need. Could you send Mary to Longbourn? And come yourself? Mr Philips is dealing with the will but I would prefer it if you were here to support me, and Mary needs to pay her respects.
Oh, brother, I do not know what will become of us all!
Fanny Bennet
My mind goes blank for a good ten seconds.
Then; but Mr Bennet survived all the events in the original story? He should be fine until June, at least! What changed? Is it something I did? Was he depressed by Lizzie's early departure from home? I cannot make heads nor tails of it.
My path ahead is clear, however; I must return to Longbourn, if only to provide support to Kitty and Lydia, and perhaps our tenants.