A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting! I've gone back to work after the summer holidays, so my updates may slow down a little. But they're coming, don't worry!

Thank you for all the lovely reviews!

Chapter 20

The week that it took Lydia to make her exit was the longest week of Mary's life. Her sweet new comfort with her father had gone - torn away by Lydia's jealousy. Whenever they found themselves together, Mr. Bennet and his middle child were sure to be disturbed by an argument or a complaint. When they were alone, the world was at ease. Little wonder, then, that they began to drift apart.

Mary knew that her sister would get her wish. Her mother would make sure of that. The goodly woman knew not her husband's mind, but she had spent years contesting his resolve. She knew how to coax, bribe, wheedle, irritate, goad and order any number of consolations from his impatient hand, and now turned all of her practice to her daughter's benefit. Just as Ashenputtel's godmother sent her to the ball, Lydia's mother sent her to the militia.

Jane put up more of a fight than Mr. Bennet, much to Mary's amazement. The oldest Miss Bennet turned her calm, cool eye on her sister and pointed out all of the weaknesses in her glorious escapade. Then, while Lydia was still reeling, she reminded her parents of the misadventures which Lydia had previously enjoyed - at her family's expense! - and those were for far lesser prizes. Lydia had not proven herself in small ways; how could they expect her to behave in this staggering remove?

Lydia's face turned beetroot red, and Mary braced herself. If she had spoken to Lydia like that, then she would have been pinched and screamed out for days afterwards. Her hair would have been pulled out in chunks! She saw her little sister's hands curl into shaking claws as she took a step towards Jane. Jane did not move, only looked coldly back at her. Lydia raised her hand, trembling, and then shrieked and ran into the garden.

"Go to your room, Jane." Mrs. Bennet said sharply, "This is not your affair."

"I beg your pardon, but it is." Jane replied softly, "I love her too dearly to see her ruined."

"Ruined! Impossible child, to say such things!" her mother returned, but while she was mid-flow her husband raised a hand for silence.

"What do you mean, Jane?" He asked, "What is this? Do you know of any danger?"

"No," Jane said, and colour crossed her cheeks. Mary realised that she was lying at once, but would not have interrupted for all the silk in China. "I only know that… any man can buy a commission. They are often bought for them, aren't they? If someone is not suited for law, or the church, or for managing estates…"

Mrs. Bennet scoffed. "Not suited! Most of them are not afforded the chance."

"Most. Not all." Jane said, her voice almost inaudible. "One… hears stories."

"Who tells you these stories?" Mrs. Bennet demanded sharply, "Lizzie? She's full of stories, that girl. She'd stand in the spring rains and call them a hurricane if she thought it would turn someone's ear. If this is her doing, my girl, then I'll write to my sister to bring her home at once! How dare she have a holiday and refuse to let my darling Lydia have the same fun?"

"Lizzie is with fa… family." Mary burst out, stunning the room and herself, "Lydia…. She barely even knows her… her friends. It is not the s…same."

Mrs. Bennet's mouth fell open. Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows in a wild arc. "Well! There we have it. A lesson in comparison for us all. But Lydia's friends are sensible, even if she is not, and I cannot think they will let harm befall her. For every rogue, there will be scores of chanceless gentlemen to dry her tears."

Jane and Mary exchanged a look, silently mourning over Mrs. Bennet's cry of delight. There was nothing they could do to keep Lydia at home, and so the cause seemed to be lost. The next day, Lydia marched into town to spend her pin money on new ribbons to take to Brighton. As soon as she left, Mary started on the long walk to Netherfield Park.

The house looked colder with its occupants gone. The whole front facade was dark, the shutters drawn so that even the gleaming eyes of the windows were dull. Moss had grown on the paving, and the steps to the front door were slippery with leaves. Mary would not have thought to go to the front door anyway, but she gave it a long look before she headed around to find the servants' entrance. The last time she had seen it, the house was filled with laughter and music. Candlelight had spilled down the steps, lighting up the loving smile on Jane's face as she met Bingley's eyes. It was a place of warmth and energy, and now it was just cold stone.

Mary didn't linger on those memories any longer than she had to; her prey was less ephemeral. The last time she had seen Luke, he had been working for Mr. Bingley as a servant. She hadn't heard from him since, but the Lucas family sometimes spoke of seeing him around town. Her heart in her throat, Mary rapped on the servants' door and waited. She explained to the surprised housemaid what she wanted, and then settled down into the courtyard to wait. The door opened and she nearly jumped out of her skin, but it was only the housemaid returning.

"W…well?" she asked.

The housemaid looked quizzically at her, "Luke said he doesn't have any friends, so I described you. He said, 'does she have a stutter?' and I said you did, for it took you ten minutes to say two good words, and I have to do the laundry today. Then he said he remembers you, but you're not his friend at all, and if you called yourself that, then you must be after something. He says he don't work for free."

Mary nodded dully and looked around at the courtyard. It suddenly seemed too large, and the air felt more like a biting wind than the hopeful breeze she had been enjoying before. She took a shaking breath and pressed her fingertips to her forehead.

"Here, you're not going to faint, are you?" the maid said urgently, hopping over to her, "Don't go getting silly, Miss, just because he won't see you. Is it about your sister?"

Mary nodded.

"Thought so. She's a right one, isn't she? Talk of the town. What do you think Luke can do?"

"I…" Mary looked at the girl's bright, mischievous face and realised that whatever she said would be the talk of the town by tomorrow. "I don't know. I just thought he might…"

The girl tilted her head like a bird, and puffed out her cheeks in irritation when it seemed that no more words were coming. "Well! I would say try again, Miss, but it might waste your sweet time."

"My time is… is worthless." she smiled.