Chapter 29
Meryton
Noon
The walk to Meryton was a familiar one to all the Bennet girls, even if the addition of two of their burlier footmen in tow behind them was new.
None of the three girls let the presence of their escorts bother them.
Lydia and Kitty chattered together, while Mary allowed her idle gaze to run along the landscape as she walked and thought.
Spring had arrived in Hertfordshire at last, with blue skies and puffy white clouds and a gentle, warm breeze stirring the blades of grass just beginning to push through the dark fallow soil.
The verges of the road were white with daisies, while seas of lavender blue spread like ink beneath the shade of the trees to either side of the road.
Bees buzzed and bumbled from one to another in search of pollen.
Mary relished walking in the sunshine and spring warmth, as well as the leisure to think.
With her mother and two elder sisters away, the duties of the mistress of Longbourn had devolved to her.
These were not onerous, and Mrs. Hill had been an invaluable help and guide, but Mary was still unaccustomed to having a list of tasks every day that required her attention.
Dinners, and assistance for the tenants, and housekeeping, and any disputes among the servants had all become her responsibility.
She wondered if Mrs. Bennet and Jane and Elizabeth had fully settled into their hired house near Hyde Park.
Mary was thankful that she had not been pressured to join her older sisters in Town.
Jane and Elizabeth might enjoy the busyness of the Metropolis, but Mary was more than pleased with the monthly assemblies in Meryton and the slower, sleepier country lifestyle.
She did enjoy the occasional visit to London, to the theaters and museums, but to live there and, moreover, to endure a Season there sounded to her like a truly terrible ordeal. She was content here at home.
The buildings of Meryton rose up around the ladies, and they reached the main street, which was bustling enough for Mary’s taste.
Several friends and neighbors curtseyed or bowed or waved, depending on their disposition, as the Bennets proceeded down the road, but the majority of the shoppers were farmers’ wives or merchants’ wives, or maids or other servants, or the occasional spinster of the same class, or their children, or the farmers and merchants themselves.
Every so often, a bright red coat would draw the eye as an officer or two were chatting with acquaintances on the road.
The Bennet sisters and their escorts stopped in front of the dressmaker’s shop.
“Kitty, Lydia, do you think you will be here long?” Mary asked.
The younger girls exchanged glances, and Kitty said, “I do not expect so. We wish to purchase some new ribbons and look at some of the new fabric in stock, but we will join you at the library in a few minutes.”
“Very good,” Mary said with a smile, and nodded at Owen, who silently followed the young ladies up the three stairs and into the shop.
Mary turned and began walking toward the bookshop, which was also the lending library, at the other end of the street, with the other servant, the tall, sturdy Josiah, trailing a few feet behind her.
It seemed absurd to have to trouble with such precautions, really. The Bennet ladies had been in the habit of walking alone for most of their lives, but before Mrs. Bennet had left for London, she had served a special tea for Mary and Kitty and Lydia and Miss Trent in her dressing room.
“My dears,” she had said, “Elizabeth’s considerable wealth means that you simply must be more cautious now.
Most gentlemen are honorable, but some are not, and a man might compromise one of you and then demand a great deal of money in return for marrying you.
It is tedious, I know, but from now on, I want you to always have a manservant with you whenever you walk to Meryton, or even when you are walking the lanes of Longbourn. ”
Kitty and Lydia had been wide-eyed at this warning, but they had agreed meekly enough. Mary and Miss Trent were in agreement that they would keep a special eye on the younger girls, but today Miss Trent was in bed with a migraine, and thus it fell on Mary and the servants to keep her sisters safe.
The men were slavishly devoted to their young mistresses, and their hulking figures would, she knew, discourage any young man from being too forward.
She stepped into the bookstore with Josiah at her heels. For a moment, she took a time to breathe in the pleasant smell of paper and ink and leather.
“Good morning, Miss Bennet,” Mr. Swanson, the proprietor of the store, said.
“Good morning, sir,” Mary replied with a smile. “I hope you are well.”
“We are very well, thank you. Have you heard from Mrs. Bennet and your sisters in London yet?”
Mary was briefly surprised at the question and then realized that it was silly to be surprised. The Bennets were a prominent family in the area, and now that it was commonly known that Elizabeth was incredibly rich, their every action was of tremendous interest to their neighbors.
“Not yet,” she said, “but they only arrived at their hired house yesterday. Do you have any new books in the lending library, Mr. Nicholls?”
“I do,” the man replied with a smile, “including some historical treatises that you might find interesting.”
At this moment, the door opened again to reveal a matron with her three daughters, and Mary, with her faithful guardian behind her, hurried to the right, through an open door and into the large room which held the lending library.
“Good morning, Miss Bennet,” a familiar male voice said from her left.
Mary pulled up short and felt her cheeks warm at the sight of the man standing in one corner of the room.
“Mr. Wickham,” she said and curtseyed. “Good morning to you as well.”
Mr. Wickham bowed. “It is a lovely day, is it not?”
“Very much so, yes,” Mary agreed fervently. “I greatly enjoy spring after weeks of cold and damp and frost.”
“I do as well,” Mr. Wickham said. “Our parades are far more enjoyable now compared to when the temperature hovered near freezing and the wind seemed more interested in going through us than around us!”
Mary nodded. She had observed military parades on the town common twice, and while it was an impressive sight with the rows of red-coated militia men and their officers, it was doubtless not particularly comfortable in inclement weather.
“Of course,” Wickham said, “compared to our brave compatriots fighting in the Peninsula against the French, a few freezing parades are nothing at all. But come, I am standing here and probably blocking you from books of interest. Please excuse me.”
Mary chuckled and said, “Not at all, sir. I am interested in historical treatises today, which are next to the window.”
Wickham inclined his head respectfully. “I suppose I should have known that an intelligent lady like yourself would not be particularly excited by novels.”
Mary laughed and said, “I do like novels, sir, but I also like history a great deal, and Mr. Nicholls told me that he recently received some new volumes hat may appeal to me. But we Bennets all enjoy novels very much indeed, and Kitty and Lydia, who will be here shortly, will want to peruse the shelves for a new book of interest.”
“Do you have any particular suggestions for novels?” the lieutenant asked.
“I confess that I did not read much for decades and am trying to change my ways in that area. Mr. Allen has been kind enough to meet with me regularly to talk about the Bible, and we have even studied the concordance together, but there are times when I merely wish to sit next to the fire and read something easy and entertaining.”
“Oh, I understand entirely,” Mary said warmly. “Have you read any of Maria Edgeworth’s books?”
Wickham lifted an eyebrow and said, “I have not.”
“I think there is a copy of Castle Rackrent here, and if it is not out on loan … oh yes, there it is.”
She walked forward to point at the book in question, and felt her cheeks heat even more when her companion smiled and said, “Thank you very much, Miss Bennet.”
“Mary! Mary!”
She stepped back as Lydia and Kitty rushed through the door calling her name, with Owen in tow. With six people now in the room, including two protective servants, any feelings of intimacy were quickly stripped away.
That was doubtless a good thing, though.
Mr. Wickham was, as far as she knew, an honorable man.
He sat in the front pew at church every week, and she was aware that he and Mr. Allen were friendly.
But still, he was an unattached gentleman, and she was sister to a very wealthy lady, and it behooved her to be careful indeed.