Longbourn had not known such excitement in years.
From the moment the Darcys arrived, the household had been thrown into a whirlwind of activity. Mrs. Bennet, delighted beyond words at the prospect of entertaining her most distinguished daughter and son-in-law, had ensured that no expense was spared in their welcome. Dinners had been planned, the drawing room had been arranged just so, and Mary had been subjected to more reminders about the state of her gowns and her playing than she cared to count.
Not that it mattered much. Elizabeth, as ever, was kind and quick to divert attention whenever their mother grew too persistent, and Mr. Darcy—reserved though he was—had treated Mary with nothing but civility. Their young son, a lively boy with his father's dark curls and his mother's expressive eyes, had already charmed half the household, and Mary found herself rather taken with his curiosity and bright mind.
It was, she thought, an agreeable visit. And yet...
As she sat in the quiet of her bedchamber, a book open in her lap but her mind far from its pages, she found herself unsettled.
Something had changed.
Perhaps it was simply the presence of guests, the disruption of routine. Or perhaps, she admitted to herself, it washisabsence.
She had grown accustomed to his presence at Longbourn. Mr. Rayne—no,Alexander. He had been a quiet but steady figure in her days, his thoughtful remarks and unexpectedly sharp mind providing her with something she had not known she had missed: conversation that truly engaged her.
And then he had gone.
She had not thought much of it at first. He had always spoken of his stay as temporary, and his reasons for leaving had been entirely practical. But now, with the Darcys here, with Elizabeth's words from that afternoon still lingering in her mind, Mary could not help but wonder—
Had it truly been coincidence that he left just as the Darcys arrived?
She let out a breath and closed her book, pushing herself up from the window seat where she had been curled. She needed clarity. And if there was anyone who could provide it, it was Elizabeth.
"The Duke of Ravensworth?"
Mary had asked the question cautiously, as they sat together in the sitting room after dinner, the evening settling comfortably around them. Their mother had already retired for the night, and Mr. Darcy was occupied with his correspondence, leaving the sisters a rare moment of privacy.
Elizabeth arched a brow, setting aside her embroidery. "You sound surprised."
"I have simply never heard his name spoken before."
Elizabeth exhaled, a wry smile playing at her lips. "That would not surprise me. Ravensworth is something of an enigma, even among theton. He has wealth, land, power—but unlike most of his rank, he rarely engages with society. He is known more in political and military circles than in drawing rooms."
Mary hesitated. "And you say there are rumors about him?"
At this, Elizabeth leaned forward slightly, her expression turning more serious. "Yes. It seems that over the past year, Ravensworth has all but vanished from London's affairs. There has been no sign of him at court, no presence at any major gathering. Thetonthrives on gossip, and when a man as powerful as he disappears, speculation is inevitable."
Mary clasped her hands in her lap, keeping her voice even. "What do they say?"
Elizabeth sighed. "Some claim he is ill. Others believe he has taken a mistress and is living in quiet scandal somewhere abroad."
Mary frowned. That did not align with the man she had come to know.
Elizabeth's expression darkened slightly. "And then there are the more troubling whispers. That he is involved in something dangerous. Some claim he is entangled in affairs of espionage, that his absence is not one of leisure but of secrecy."
Mary's breath caught.
Espionage.
Her mind raced, recalling every quiet moment Alexander had disappeared into the study, every time he had seemed preoccupied with something unseen. Had it all been mere coincidence? Or had he been concealing something far greater than she had ever imagined?
"I do not know what to believe," Elizabeth admitted. "But I find it difficult to credit the wilder rumors. From what I have seen, Mr. Ravensworth is a man of principle, and I do not think he would engage in anything untoward."
Mary's fingers tightened around the fabric of her gown.Duke Ravensworth.
Not Mr. Rayne.
Not simply Alexander.
She looked down, composing herself before she met her sister's gaze once more. "It seems a great deal of speculation over a man few truly know."
Elizabeth smiled, inclining her head. "Yes. But that is often how the most interesting rumors begin, is it not?"
Mary offered a small, thoughtful smile in return. But in her heart, something had shifted.
If the rumors were true—if Alexander truly was involved in something greater than he had let on—then had he left simply to give the family space? Or had he left because the arrival of the Darcys posed a risk to his deception?
She did not know.
But for the first time, she wondered if the man she had come to know at Longbourn was hiding far more than he had ever let on.
The Bennet household was alive with conversation, the drawing room filled with the warmth of old acquaintances. The Bingleys had arrived that afternoon, and with them, an air of cheerful familiarity settled over Longbourn.
Jane, as radiant as ever, sat beside Elizabeth, her soft laughter blending seamlessly with the hum of voices. Mr. Bingley, ever amiable, had already endeared himself to Mrs. Bennet with his endless praise of the dinner yet to be served. Even Mr. Bennet, who often retreated into his study when the household grew too lively, had chosen to remain among them, amused by the various threads of conversation weaving around him.
Mary sat quietly in her usual place, her hands folded in her lap, her mind turning over the conversation she had shared with Elizabeth earlier. The talk of Ravensworth, of rumors and mysteries, had left a lingering unease in her chest. But as she glanced around the room, watching the ease with which her sisters engaged with their guests, she reminded herself that tonight was not the time for such thoughts.
Dinner was soon announced, and the company made their way to the dining room, where the table had been set with the finest china and an impressive display of dishes.
"Oh, how I have missed being at Longbourn for such fine company," Bingley declared as they took their seats, smiling warmly at Jane before addressing Mr. Bennet. "And, sir, I must say, I have missedyourwit most of all."
Mr. Bennet inclined his head. "A rare man, indeed, to seek out my wit rather than flee from it."
Laughter rippled around the table, though Mrs. Bennet quickly steered the conversation elsewhere.
"How delightful it is to have nearly all my daughters gathered again," she said, beaming at Jane and Elizabeth. "It is a wonder we do not see you both more often! And now, with the Darcys here as well—oh, it will be such a grand month! Of course, it is a shame that Mr. Rayne has chosen to leave just as the merriment has begun."
Mary's fingers tightened slightly around her fork.
Elizabeth, who had taken a sip of wine, arched a brow. "You mean Alexander?"
"Mr. Rayne, indeed," Mrs. Bennet continued, missing the flicker of interest in Elizabeth's gaze. "A fine gentleman, though somewhat quiet. He was such a good companion for Mr. Bennet, and Mary, I daresay you shall find your afternoons quite dull without him about."
Mary, aware that several pairs of eyes had now turned to her, replied steadily, "I have never struggled to occupy my time, Mama."
"Even so," Mrs. Bennet sighed, "it is most unfortunate that he has gone. And to London, no less! I cannot fathom what he must find so pressing there when he might have enjoyed a much pleasanter time here."
Elizabeth exchanged a knowing look with Jane.
"It is hardly surprising that he would have business in London," Elizabeth remarked lightly. "From what I gathered, he is a man of some consequence."
"Oh, well, that is evident," Mrs. Bennet declared. "A gentleman of good manners, refined sensibilities, and an air of—well, I do not know what precisely, but I always suspected he was more than he claimed."
At this, Mary's breath caught slightly, but her mother breezed on, oblivious.
"Though it is a wonder he never spoke of his family," Mrs. Bennet continued. "He must have one, must he not? A man cannot simply appear without connections."
"Some men are private," Mr. Bennet offered, looking amused as he glanced at Mary.
Mary said nothing, only cutting a small piece of her meat, though she was far from focused on her plate.
"I do wonder if we shall see him again," Mrs. Bennet mused. "Perhaps he shall return before the Darcys leave? After all, what business can keep a man from good company fortoolong?"
At this, Elizabeth merely smiled faintly and said, "That remains to be seen."
Mary lowered her gaze, feeling the weight of Elizabeth's words settle deep within her.
Yes. That remained to be seen indeed.