Chapter 4
Mary Bennet watched as her younger sister, Kitty, exchanged marriage vows with Mr. Rogers.
It had been a whirlwind romance between the two of them.
Mr. Rogers had only moved to Meryton a little more than two months ago to set up a shop.
Almost as soon as he laid eyes on Kitty, he was smitten, and Kitty quickly returned his affection.
Mary was genuinely pleased for her sister.
Kitty had grown up a bit over the last two years.
She seldom giggled anymore, and she wasn’t quite so easily annoyed.
After the awful outburst following Elizabeth’s and Jane’s wedding, the two sisters had found common ground in their mutual appreciation for fashion.
While Mary didn’t necessarily follow the dictates of fashion, she had found that Kitty was quite helpful in finding which styles and colors suited her.
In exchange, Mary had helped Kitty improve her embroidery and needlework.
They had frequently gone shopping together, and after a time, Mary had begun accompanying Kitty on her visits to her friends.
The two sisters weren’t particularly close, but Mary could honestly say that she was closer to Kitty than she had ever been with any other person. As such, she was very happy that Kitty had found someone who appreciated and adored her.
When the vows had been exchanged and the wedding breakfast was dutifully consumed, Mary waved as her sister and her sister’s new husband drove away to spend three weeks at Brighton. Then she turned and headed into the house and up to her room.
As she looked around, she realized that it had certainly changed quite a bit in the last two years since the last wedding in the family.
Gone were the various books in Italian and French.
Gone were the history and philosophy books that had given her headaches as she tried to understand them.
Gone were the religious books that had, without her ever realizing, warped her understanding of people and how to deal with them.
Gone were the stacks and stacks of papers containing summaries, notes, and extracts. Most of all, however, gone was the sense of suffocation and driving need: the need to be noticed, to be loved, to gain accomplishments at all cost.
Mary still sometimes wished she was not quite as overlooked as she often was. Mama still gave most of her attention to Kitty and her friends and seldom spoke to Mary. Papa hardly ever said a word to anyone other than to tease or criticize. Even so, her heart was not nearly as empty as it once was.
Acclaim and attention had come, at least a little, not from showing off but simply from attempting to be friendly with her neighbors.
She still was not particularly sociable, but since she never offered useless esoteric advice to their complaints anymore, people were far more likely to wish to speak with her.
The entire neighborhood had been a little shocked when Mary refused to play piano for the first time two years ago, but they eventually accepted it when she was calm and steady in her refusals. It had been over a year since anyone asked Mary to play.
She hadn’t given up the instrument entirely, but she now only played for her own amusement and only when she was certain she would not be seen as she danced and swayed in her chair along with the slightly faulty music she created.
Mary looked at her desk. Just as before, more than two years ago, there was a book and a stack of papers there.
The book, however, was not some weighty tome but a book on how to grow various plants out of season in a greenhouse.
The notes were not extracts, whose intention was to help her memorize pithy bits of advice, but rather plans for what she wished to grow next.
There was even a half-written letter there, but it was not to Jacob Lucas or any other gentleman. Rather, it was a letter she would send to Jane once she had described the wedding thoroughly.
Mary had not written a single love letter since her sisters’ wedding two years since. She had not fallen in love since then, not even a little bit. She had no interest in men who had slighted her all her life, which was every single man in the neighborhood.
Mary sat down at her desk and picked up her pen.
It was one she had chosen herself, because she loved the extravagance of it.
It was a peacock feather, longer and fatter than was common for pens, which made it a little awkward to use, but it made up for that by its color, which was mostly an eye-catching iridescent green.
Simply looking at it tended to bring a smile to Mary’s face.
She dipped the extravagant, impractical pen into the ink and began to write.
~~~~~
The day after Kitty’s wedding, Maria Lucas and Mary King called on Mary.
Miss Lucas was a year younger than Mary and Miss King a year older.
Mary was quite surprised to see them, since she had assumed that with Kitty gone, she would no longer have an easy connection to the other young ladies.
Miss Lucas’ first words quickly put that thought to rest.
“We thought you might be lonely now that Kitty is gone, so we came to keep you company,” she said.
“Yes,” added Miss King. “We Marys should stick together, you know.”
Miss Lucas clapped her hands together with delight. “Exactly,” she cried. “We are a trio of Marys, and we must support each other at all times.”
Mary felt their warmth and their easy inclusion of her right down to her toes. “Thank you,” she said, acknowledging their thoughtfulness in visiting as well as their kind words. “I agree,” she added.
“Have you heard any exciting news lately?” asked Miss King. Since she lived with her uncle with no female relations in the house, she was often one of the last to hear news from the neighborhood.
“Actually, yes,” said Miss Lucas. “Mama told me something rather exciting that she heard at Kitty’s wedding breakfast, though she couldn’t quite remember who told her.
She said that Netherfield has been let once again, though this time the lease is for three months rather than the year that is more common. ”
“Why would someone wish to lease Netherfield in the winter?” asked Miss King.
“Well, they won’t be here until the beginning of February, so only half of their lease will be in the winter,” said Miss Lucas.
“Even so, I agree that it doesn’t make much sense.
Most people who are wealthy enough to lease such a house prefer to go to the city this time of year where everything is much more convenient. ”
“Not only that,” said Mary, “but the fact is that the biggest reason anyone would wish to lease Netherfield is to have access to the forest between here and there for hunting, but early spring is the absolute worst time of year for hunting. It makes me wonder what our new neighbor intends to do here.”
“Well, if it is a lady, she wouldn’t care so much about the lack of hunting,” said Miss King. “Do you know who it might be?”
“I am afraid not,” said Miss Lucas. “I don’t even know if it is a single person, a family, or a party of friends.”
“Oh, I do hope it is a party of gentlemen,” said Miss King. “It would make our assemblies and parties so much nicer to have more young men around.”
Mary’s mind went back to the last time there were enough gentlemen in the neighborhood, which was when a regiment of militia stationed there for the winter and spring. She had no fond memories of that time whatsoever, so she could not agree with Miss King’s statement.
“If it is, they will likely all flock to you, Miss Bennet,” said Miss Lucas.
The very idea absolutely shocked Mary. She was so used to being the last and least, even in her own mind, that she simply could not believe what her ears were telling her mind.
“True,” said Miss King. “You are, by far, the most accomplished lady in the area, and your looks have quite improved over the last year or two.”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” said Mary. “I look the same as I always have, and I am not accomplished in the least. I no longer play piano, nor do I study.”
“No, no,” said Miss Lucas. “Your complexion is much better than before, ever since your spots cleared up. It is somehow brighter, though maybe that is because you seem happier. Honestly, you remind me quite a bit of how Elizabeth looked before she married Mr. Darcy, though your complexion may, perhaps, be a bit darker.”
“As for your accomplishments,” said Miss King, “just because you don’t study any more doesn’t mean you have forgotten everything.
Kitty tells me you still play at home even if you will not do so in public anymore.
She says you have gotten much better, in fact.
And I have heard that you have even taken up drawing.
With your knowledge, your sewing skills, your music, and your drawing, if you aren’t considered accomplished then the rest of us have no hope whatsoever. ”
Mary had never considered that she was still continuing to improve after giving up her studies and her hours of practice.
Mary had somehow believed that when she burnt all her papers, she had erased all their knowledge from her mind.
She had thought that if she no longer performed in public then her musical ability didn’t count.
But when her two friends laid out all her improvements in front of her so plainly, Mary could not help but see their point.
In addition to all she had learned before, she had taken up drawing to give herself an excuse to spend more time outside with nature and to help her identify and track which plants lived in her area.
She didn’t know if she would ever truly look upon herself as accomplished, and she definitely couldn’t think of herself as pretty, but she could at least acknowledge that, perhaps, she might have improved just a bit in the past two years.
“I do thank you both for saying so,” said Mary, “but it is all pointless speculation anyway. For all we know, our new neighbor might be a seventy-year-old gentleman who simply wishes to get away from the close city air for a time. Besides, there is one thing I am certain of. Every man likes something different in a lady. We all have an equal chance.”
Though she said it aloud, inside her own head she could not help but add the tiny phrase, “except me.”