To sullhach: I'm sorry I can't stop. I can't help myself! Lately, it has been a little faster. I'm on a short LOA from work right now. Just having some bad burnout, and trying to recover. This story has become a nice little escape during this time.

To r1965rd: Thanks for your excitement! But I don't think I can be so mean and do that to Mary, especially not after her disaster at Netherfield. Haha. It would probably be more comical than what I've actually written.

To an unnamed Guest: I have to say I was surprised to read your take on the last chapter, what you said about Kitty. Thank you for comment, for your psychological opinion. I'll be curious to hear what you think of Mary's development in later chapters. Hopefully their endings will be satisfying for you and everyone.

Chapter 5

For such a fast introduction, finding a kindred spirit through the contrivance of word of mouth, it came as rather a surprise to Elizabeth that Mary accepted an invitation without the least trepidation. How pleasing to witness the transformation of confidence in her own sister, with Georgiana's assistance, to venture into a house and a crowd of strangers for a real performance. Mary need hardly be asked her feelings on it. All she required was an evening dress. Lizzy, out of her own wardrobe, out of that she could not fit temporarily, selected a blue silk gown with black lace dressed over the bosom and forming the sleeves. By the time her maid had done with Mary, there was nothing recognizable about her, no more of the country girl.

How elegant her hands looked as she pulled them from black chamois gloves, black lace peaking from the wrists, ready to place them on the black and white keys. In a room of heavy jewels, arching plumes, and painted fans, the simple gold ear-bobs and plain, undressed plaited hair stood in striking contrast. Dozens of eyes cared not for dress, when they heard the notes her long, bare fingers produced.

Mary tried not to look about her. In all the excitement, she had forgotten about the first introductions. Lady Herncastle took on the obligation, after presenting both her and Miss Darcy to her husband, to bring her to the musical ladies. Everything from the carpeting to the ceiling showed great care to achieve the best acoustics. Plenty of chairs were lined and in formation near one of the walls, for occasions of a larger audience. Round tables offered an assembly of refreshments, under umbrellas of lily and hyacinth centerpieces. With a few words to her footmen, all those chairs in the corner could be moved, set, and form a half-circle about the piano forte. Beside it, the most beautiful harp she ever beheld.

Only a quarter of the chairs were arranged for their small company. The occupants to fill them, unlike the untrained ears and easy to please people of Meryton, would offer no praise. These ladies did not come for praise themselves. For they had come bidden by their mistress, intrigued by the promise of delights offered, and piqued with curiosity by a plain, mystery newcomer. Mary saw a lot of disappointment. Half of the room nodded, while the other half offered a bow. A fraction of the ladies deigned to smile. One actually smiled with full teeth, completely giving away her pretense. Only three common responses were given: "Charmed" or "A pleasure to meet you," or "Welcome to the Starlight Circle." Miss Darcy had to explain to Mary that title was the name of their musical society.

Lady Herncastle did not seem to observe the chill of looks or words made to her mystery guest. For a great fuss had been made, and when they first entered, some caught sight of Georgiana and made their assumptions. It must be Miss Darcy joining the Starlight, only to be followed with a sweet, jarring denial by their hostess. Perhaps some of their greetings to Mary reflected embarrassment at the mistake. Georgiana did not seem to see it, anymore than her ladyship. A few gentlemen also mingled in the room amongst Lord Herncastle; their names were scarcely memorable for the time. Names were named, then rushed onto the next person or cluster of persons. For if it were not for music itself, this grand room and company was not worth the effort.

Yet, with Georgiana in a front seat, being encouraged with her eyes, Mary seated herself at the instrument. Though she played from heart, she brought her music at the request of Lady Herncastle. It was most obviously placed on top, out of direct sight, all to demonstrate the powers of mind, spirit, and memory. Though possessing little courage, meager adeptness in the arts of conversation, and little patience for their great airs, her hands functioned. It was without effort. Of course, it was her own sonata. What need had she for a musical score? Though perhaps one day, she'd be seated in this place, looking up at a man, with baton in his hand, facing an orchestra, and wielding with equal finesse. Of course, that wasn't done. The piano was often and best played solo.

It did help to have a little fantasy to take her mind away, and by the time her final notes resonated, all these chilly faces had thawed. Some lips were agape, light whispers passing between close faces, and scarcely to be heard over the applause. One or two gentlemen near the back called out bravo, in the way gentlemen do in these drawing rooms. Lord Herncastle, like a version of Sir William Lucas, declared his praise openly with: "Splendid! Splendid! Well done!" Whether he was another true aficionado or an honorary, tone-deaf enthusiast, it nevertheless provoked the mystery guest to hot blushes, raising her from mystery guest to guest of honour.

"Well, well, ladies and gentlemen, you've finally heard Miss Mary Bennet," she rose up and declared, standing before the piano, before all the company. "You may possibly recognize this unnamed piece she plays. I say unnamed because to this day, it's name and the name of the composer has remained a mystery. For I must confess, Miss Bennet, only a handful of us here have heard this music, but we've not heard it in its entirety. Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present the composer, who sits before us now!"

The gasps were audible, and a surge of warm delight, palpable in the voices of all. Apparently, of the delights expected, this was met with great surprise. Mary sat there in perplexity, trying to discern the sudden change of expression and the exact cause. How was her music already known? Did Georgiana really play her music for them, and had it caused such a stir? She was ready to look to the lips of her audience, except there were too many fans and too much excited movement to make out any conversation. And Lady Herncastle, eventually, had to step aside. For several of the starlight ladies rose from their seats and approached her.

"You! You are the composer of that!" "That was marvelous!" "Musical genius!" "Why we've never had a composer amongst our set. Never!"

Getting a word end was as much a struggle with them, as it ever was at home with her own mother. Lady Herncastle forced herself in.

"Ladies, ladies, hush will you! Let Miss Bennet hear herself think. Now, what do you wish to say, my dear? You look like you have a hundred questions."

"Certainly!" retorted Mary. "Why, I'm trying to understand what you said earlier, Lady Herncastle. You just said some may possibly recognize this music. But it's not published. How is it so many…?"

"Well, as you know, I first heard it from Miss Darcy," she explained. "She only played me a small part of it. I tried my best to play from memory, to play it on our quiet nights."

"It's true," declared one girl. "She played it for us, but you've far surpassed her."

"I merely teased them with it," confessed her ladyship. "But ever since then, all their associates have been trying to make out the whole sonata—"

"More than that!" enthusiastically declared another lady. "Miss Bennet, your scraps and pieces of this score have been heard here and there, in every London parlour. You cannot imagine." The heartbeat had doubled its tempo in seconds. "And Miss Darcy would not drop a word to anybody. How monstrous of you, Georgiana!" she teased. "There's been such frenzy among us, our friends and family, the local masters, even the gossip columns, to find the composer."

Each one described her raptures, how she first came to hear of this sonata, and begging if they might have a look at the score itself. Fair warning had been given. Her score was perused and circulated through the hands of the starlight ladies. Her first evening in London society, for any woman, was nothing but a success. From the greatest of critics to the foremost of admirers, was the young lady to first approach the piano and cry musical genius: Miss Henrietta Sothern. While others begged Mary to have a copy, she chided her friends to cease; for it was unpublished yet, and should wait like the rest, to have one for themselves. Of them all, she was perhaps the only name Mary remembered that evening.

Perhaps the only disadvantage and annoyance, having overcome the initial cold reception, was that Mary had scarcely any time to establish her acquaintance with any of the Starlight circle. Dinner was announced by a butler, and the parade to the dining room began. More entertainment would wait until afterwards. For as she watched, she discerned married couples amongst the ladies, not just unmarried girls. And their age was not limited to what society would consider young. Young was perhaps eighteen or nineteen, and the eldest, perhaps in late thirties or early forties. Lady Herncastle certainly did not discriminate.

Playing the dutiful guest, she obeyed and allowed the hostess to place her near the head of the main table, near herself. Georgiana was asked to sit on her ladyship's left, across from Mary. For a time, no neighbour was provided for Mary's right side. All the others found a place and seated themselves as though they too were residents. For such noise and shuffling about between guests and servants, having any conversation was almost impossible.

"Congratulations Mary!" declared Miss Darcy.

"Whatever for?" answered Mary, much louder than comfortable.

"You are famous now."

"Hardly! And I can't take credit for—" One of the footman almost lost his balance and his tray, along with half a dozen glasses. The clatter cut off sound for three seconds of her hearing. "You heralding my presence."

"Indeed not!" laughed Georgiana.

Finally, Lady Herncastle called the company to order, and the footman were allowed to fulfill their duties in peace, without crowding and extemporaneous shuffling. Still, a number of gentlemen appeared rudely late at the entrance of the dining hall. Lord Herncastle rose and saw to it. Late-comers, judging from the look on the face of their hostess. However, her eye was caught; excusing herself, she too rose to see to their seating arrangements. Between host, hostess, and the gentlemen, they struggled to condense pleasantries. The heads of their neighbours began to turn and observe, causing a current of turning heads, fluttering fans, and furtive remarks behind said fans.

Doing her best to keep a suitable, inconspicuous volume, Mary asked: "Georgiana? What's going on? Who are they?"

"I don't know," shrugged Miss Darcy. Of course, she was the wrong person to ask, as much a new member of society as Mary. This was her first season. It was Georgiana's neighbour, a Mrs. Jenson of the starlight circle, that cured their ignorance.

"They're nothing special, except the one with the green cravat," answered she. "It must be young Cummings. Mr. Cummings, a second son of Sir John Cummings MP. Oh… I do recognize one of the others. That's Lord Leagues, and that must be his friend, Mr. Suckley. He's already married. His wife is just ill and couldn't come tonight. And… that one with the fair curls, is Mr. Wynn. You both must leave Mr. Wynn be. He's courting Miss Quinn over there. She's a madly jealous creature; you don't want to be on the wrong side of her… And then, I see Sir Oliver and that other fellow beside him, I don't know at all."

"That's a better question. Who don't you know?" quipped Miss Darcy.

Lady Herncastle flicked her fan with the authority of a commanding general of the regiment, dispersing all except one of the late arrivals. She bid the final fellow to follow her, straight to her table. Of course, only one seat remained vacant; realizing their destination had Georgiana and Mary rapidly changing colour. New acquaintances often formed with great difficulty and awkwardness. At least, Miss Darcy was sure always of having either her brother, Lizzy, or Mrs. Annesley, one of them, nearby to dispel unease. Whatever her feelings, her greater sympathy lay with Mary, whose right side was vacant. For herself, she easily owned to the fact that first introductions to strangers rarely went over smoothly. So often, they were put off by directness, or else, they found conversation too dull to desire its continuance.

"Miss Bennet," said Lady Herncastle, "it is my pleasure to introduce, Mr. Felix Cummings. Felix, my guest of honour this evening, Miss Mary Bennet; such a pity you are late! You have missed her performance."

"I have no good excuse for that. My own fault," he confessed. "Forgive me, Miss Bennet."

"Please, have a seat. The first course is about to be served." Both hostess and the green cravat took their positions, and awaited the spooning of soup onto their dishes. Meanwhile: "Really a pity you were late Felix, and missed my grand reveal," continued Lady Herncastle. "I've finally identified London's mystery composer."

He enlivened at once. "No! Pulchritudo Ignotus in C Minor?"

"The very one!"

The gentleman's eyes turned to Mary's, unable to think much more to say than: "It's you," he uttered with a tone of awe. "Delighted."

"Sir, what did you call it?" asked Mary. "I'm not well-versed in Latin. I know ignotus, but the other…"

A smile. "You must forgive me. I was presumptuous to give it a name, though as ignorant as everyone else. As long as I'm not corrupting the language, its translation roughly comes to, Beauty Unknown."

A blush. "That is too flattering, sir."

"Mary," interrupted Lady Herncastle, "perhaps I did not tell you. Mr. Cummings' father is a shareholder in Grandison Printing Presses."

Now, all was understood. Yet, the irony of it, so it seemed, that the rich lady did not make bones about hiding or discreet discussion of her own motives, as if they were something shameful. She simply made the declaration, presented the acquaintance, and even more surprisingly, he was in agreement with this scheme. Perhaps, it was no scheme at all.

"I don't know who she has just betrayed, you or me," he chuckled. "Sounds as though we both have some mercenary motives."

Mary couldn't help feeling the humour of it herself. "Perhaps we are both somewhat guilty of ulterior motive, but I don't know if I would call it mercenary. For what could possibly be your motive?"

"A selfish motive, mine is to be sure. For a time, I was convinced it was one of the Starlight Circle… Well, since it's all out in the open, let's talk business. Tell me, Miss Bennet," pleaded Mr. Cummings, "are we to hear new works and scores while you're here? Where do you get your inspiration?"

"I'll have to think about the latter. I've never had anyone ask me that."

Much to her own relief, Miss Darcy did not find herself called on to enter much into the conversation. Between the three, Lady Herncastle, the gentleman, and her friend, an interchange so agreeable flowed that it would be a shame to have it disturbed. Every once in a while, she made an answer to some question, and she felt free to laugh along with them, without feeling she intruded on the conversation. Being more the observer than a participant, Miss Darcy's attention was more diverted by the surroundings. Noisy chatter continued at all five dining tables, full of merriment and lively discourse. Yet, it did not escape her notice how many eyes had turned towards their table, most discreetly—toward Mr. Cummings.

For Mary fans out there, this time, you got a whole chapter of Mary. I'll mix it up. Sometimes I'll do one or the other, sometimes both in the same update.

So Mary got to have her debut to the musical society. You think she's a perfect fit, is she a misfit? And what do you think, being seated next to the green cravat?