A/N: Hello everybody! This one's a bit shorter, but we do at last get to meet the elusive Mr. Edmund Benson. I have also just realized while rereading this chapter that Lambton is *not* walking distance from Pemberley...but for the sake of my story, I have decided it now is!
As always, thanks so much for your lovely reviews, and for any and everyone who is reading!
Chapter 11: The Lion and the Mouse
It was not, in fact, to be Mary's fate that day to wander the grounds whilst lost in poignant and poetic contemplation, for even if she had determined to not come upon Georgiana, it was not in her power to determine if Georgiana came upon her – and indeed, it could be no surprise that Georgiana did, for she had been walking rather listlessly up and down the alley near Pemberley, wondering if Mary should mind being disturbed from her reading for a short walk – but here was a fine surprise, Mary had come to join her herself!
Georgiana therefore caught up to her directly, with much enthusiasm and pleasure, and began earnest conversation with her on tomorrow's dinner party, what they should be wearing, to whom Mary should be introduced, how she had selected a piece specially for any performance which might be solicited from her.
Mary did not mind this chatter – in a way, it still allowed her to have moments of reflection, while also providing interludes of distraction. Georgiana convinced her to walk down to Lambton together, to peruse the shop windows for pretty new bonnets or shawls, and to purchase some sweets from the local shop, as they had indeed done before. It was, undoubtedly, the sort of thing that should have grated on Mary, and displeased her with its frivolity; but in all of her brief friendship with Georgiana, she had found that it was very hard to be displeased with her – and then, she had also found that it was not so disagreeable after all, to walk around the village, and to take break from her contemplation, for a bit of light diversion – at times, it even seemed to clear her head, and lend her thoughts with a new direction and vigor.
To Lambton thus they went, Mary being periodically coaxed out of her revery to put forth remark on this or that, or to make the odd inquiry on some subject. When they at last reached Lambton, they slowed their walk and began to amble leisurely through the streets, peering into the windows of the shops as they went. At the milliner's they stopped for some time, and surveyed the various articles displayed. Mary had only just found herself drawn to a cashmere shawl of a delicate grey, which featured border designs of vines and pale pink roses, and had stepped forward to examine it closer, when unexpectedly, they heard, "Georgiana! Miss Bennet! What a wonderful surprise indeed!" in Emma Benson's clear, lilting voice.
They turned to see the Benson sisters, draped on either arm of a tall gentleman, who was dressed in fine clothes which shared the ostentation and pretension of his sisters' – for this, Mary could only presume, was their brother Mr. Edmund Benson. Even if the similarity of their features had not betrayed their relation, the identical air of vanity and condescending charm should have revealed it accordingly. He was as handsome as his sisters were beautiful, and smiled most charmingly at her and Georgiana as the three of them approached.
Georgiana, who stood next to Mary, had flushed terribly, and her brow furrowed in distress, but indeed, there was no possible chance of avoidance.
"Edmund, this is Miss Mary Bennet, the sister of Mrs. Darcy," Emma spoke. "Miss Bennet, may I introduce our brother, Mr. Edmund Benson."
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet. And if it isn't little Georgiana, our small, meek mouse of Derbyshire?"
Georgiana seemed incapable of response, and only curtsied stiffly in greeting, her eyes fixed stolidly on the ground in front of her.
But Mary did not find herself so fettered. "And I suppose you mean to think of yourself as the fierce, stalking lion, as the fable goes."
Mr. Benson's handsome countenance lost its composure a moment, and behind his charming smile there now sat a displeasure, ill-concealed and impatient. "I am not certain what you mean, Miss Bennet," he said. "Friends, such as Miss Darcy and I are, might take the liberty of teasing each other – it is not so welcome, however, from the field of wholly new acquaintances."
Here Georgiana found it in herself to murmur, "Oh, she did not mean to – " but though Mary, who stood beside her directly, heard it, it was lost to the others among the sudden exclamation of Charlotte Benson, who said, "Oh, I do so look forward to the dinner party tomorrow! – and Georgiana has a piece prepared specially, what say you to that, Edmund, dear?"
"I say we shall all listen to it most raptly, but shall not applaud at the end, in the case that we might frighten poor Georgiana away with the sudden noise."
Emma and Charlotte both tittered, and Emma even exclaimed lightly, "Edmund!" but the tone was that which showed the remonstrance was not meant in seriousness.
Poor Georgiana, indeed – she had retreated once more into herself, eyes lowered, cheeks aflame – and yet Mary thought further opposition would only serve to aggrieve her friend even more. Therefore, she set upon steering the conversation to a more neutral subject, and began to speak of her own studies of the pianoforte – which pieces she had always found particularly difficult, and which composers she thought to be inspiring, and which left some aspect wanting. To this onslaught of dullness and pedantry the Bensons were wholly unprepared, for there were few who could plow on so determinedly in a speech as Mary Bennet, and even fewer who were so adept as her at discouraging and circumventing interruption; and in result, a good few minutes passed before the Bensons had chance to recover, and before Emma, at last finding a momentary pause to interject, said, "Yes, how interesting, Miss Bennet. Georgiana, dear, shall you walk with us down to Milton? We might have some tea while Edmund fusses with his horses."
Georgiana, who herself had substantially recovered during Mary's lengthy soliloquy, now had enough courage to say, "I have actually just taken a rather long walk with Mary; we are headed to return to Pemberley now, I think, where Lizzy is expecting us for tea."
Immediately the Miss Bensons began to coo their protests and dismay.
"Indeed, Miss Bennet, brava!" said Mr. Benson snidely, with a strained smile, "For here you have been favored as a more entertaining companion than either myself or my sisters… Perhaps it is your fine expertise on the musical arts that makes it so."
"Mary is very clever, and has always something new and interesting to say!" Georgiana burst out unexpectedly, a color rising to her neck which spoke now of impassionedness rather than embarrassment. "And as you yourself said, it is not in the freedoms of those who are not yet acquainted to engage in teazing!"
Mr. Benson was disconcerted by this outburst, and the Miss Bensons equally so – but the sisters were first to recover, and began directly their impressive show of martyrdom and shock – but they had meant no offense, it was only Edmund's way to be so droll, they were shamed by him and his conduct terribly, but what could be done! He refused to mend his ways, he meant nothing by it, nothing at all!
And Georgiana was forced to assure them that they were still dear friends to her, and that her opinions of them had not shifted in the slightest – she had simply grown rather tired, and wished to lie down at home.
"But of course, Georgiana! You need only have said! I suppose you did not wish to excite concern in us for your well-being – but of course you have now – it cannot be otherwise, when a friend of ours is in distress! We shall walk you to Pemberley directly, will we not, Edmund, and ensure you reach there safely!"
Mary could not think of a way to extricate themselves from this insistence while preserving basic civility, nor could, it seemed, Georgiana.
"Should we not send for a carriage?" Mr. Benson said unexpectedly; his brow was furrowed, and his teasing seemed momentarily forgotten.
"Oh, please, no!" Georgiana began to protest so plaintively, that he could do nothing but oblige to her pleas, and so they set off, Emma linking arms with Georgiana, but Charlotte left to hang on the arm of Edmund, for Mary was certainly not relinquishing her place – and Georgiana in the middle, looking, it seemed to Mary, quite guilty for being the cause of such concern, which had been meant as a harmless excuse, but which had now been so inflated by Emma's affected reactions.
The two sisters chattered as they walked, but not in the pleasant way which Georgiana was wont to chatter – theirs was gossip and sudden exclamations and the occasional remembrance of Georgiana's delicate condition, all interspersed with asides to their brother; but Mr. Benson had grown somewhat withdrawn, and only responded in short phrases: "I see," or "Yes, indeed, I suppose so." This was not Emma's aim – she wished clearly to restart his mockery of Georgiana, and attempted to goad him into it once more. "Does Georgiana not look dreadfully pale, Edmund?" But he only replied, "I cannot say that she does, no."
At last, they made it to Pemberley; they wished to accompany her inside, but here at last they were rebuffed. "I think that what Georgiana requires is immediate rest in her room," Mary said firmly.
"And perhaps smelling salts, in case she is to faint at the shock of any unexpected visitors inside the parlour," said Mr. Benson. His pretty superiority and his self-satisfied smile at last restored, he seemed happy to discard his former reticence and to return once more to a final bout of teasing.
But Mary would not allow this to continue any significant duration of time, and with a brisk round of farewells, they parted at the gate.
"You were quite right, Mary, he is a horrible boy!" Georgiana declared as they entered the house. "And I am so terribly sorry for any offense he caused you! But you were so wonderful – you quite shamed him into deference!"
But Mary did not agree, and said, "I rather think it was your remonstrance that enacted the marked change in Mr. Benson."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Georgiana in surprise, "Do you think so?"
"I am almost certain of it. Your outburst humbled him most effectively," Mary assured; certainly there was progress implied in the gradual discarding of Georgiana's timidity, and nowhere was her newfound courage better directed than at Mr. Benson. Georgiana herself seemed quite pleased at the notion that she had been the one to shame him into his temporarily harmless reserve.
Edmund Benson, meanwhile, had done little to alter Mary's predisposed opinion of him – he was vain and insensitive, clearly prone to inciting others' emotions for his own amusement, much in the vein of his sisters – and most condemning of all, he was cruel to Mary's closest friend – and this alone painted him very black of heart in her opinion, indeed.
"Let us not speak of him any longer," Mary said, "for there are far more estimable subjects we may employ our time in discussing."
With this, Georgiana agreed, and gladly picked up instead the topic of which gloves she might wear with her dress tomorrow evening; and even if this was not quite what Mary had meant by more estimable subjects, she at least did not feel any pressing need to correct it.