Chapter 17
Two months passed in pleasant busyness. Mary saw Lord Matlock a handful of times, and each time they met, she attempted to address him more formally, at least at first. Then he, with a twinkle of humor in his eyes, would insist she call him John.
She never did, but his insistence forced her to stop calling him, “my Lord.”
During this time, Mary’s feelings settled. She learned to accept that she would always find Lord Matlock attractive. She would always love him, whether it was reasonable to do so or not, whether she was angry with him or not.
She did not expect much from him. His warm glances, the glint of humor in his eyes that only she saw, his occasional company, and a bit of attention. This was all she expected from him, and even that, she knew, was temporary.
In her more honest moments, she admitted to herself that it wasn’t all she wanted from him, but when such thoughts intruded, she gently reminded herself that people do not always get what they wish for.
One morning, in late March, as Mary and Georgiana were sitting in the parlor sewing and chatting, Elizabeth came in and sat down with a deep sigh.
Mary had grown quite concerned for her sister over the last week or so.
Elizabeth didn’t seem to be eating much, and she was always rather tired.
Elizabeth had said nothing about it, however, and Mary did not wish to pry, so she had not asked.
She did take comfort in the fact that Mr. Darcy, who absolutely doted on Elizabeth, did not seem worried.
After a few moments of silence, Elizabeth said, “Well, my sisters, I am afraid I will have to cut our time here short. I must return to Pemberley.”
“Is it because you are pregnant again?” asked Georgiana. Mary looked at her with surprise. She had been thinking the same thing, but she would never have dreamed of saying it before Elizabeth brought up the subject.
Elizabeth smiled wryly. “Nothing is certain yet, but it is very likely. I find that I simply don’t have the energy to cope with London any more right now, and I long for the fresh air and uplifting nature of the country.”
Mary’s heart sank. She had very much enjoyed being away from Longbourn and Meryton.
Here, she could be who she wished she always had been without the weight of past experiences and her neighbors’ expectations holding her back.
But if Elizabeth was going to Pemberley, Mary would certainly be sent home.
“Mary, if you can get Papa’s permission, I would appreciate it if you would come with us.
Just to be clear, though, I fully admit that this is a selfish request. If you come, I will be asking for your help with my various duties, many of which I may struggle with for the next month or so. What do you say?”
“It would be my pleasure, Elizabeth,” said Mary. The idea of simply being useful, something she was never allowed to do at home, sounded like a delightful challenge. “I shall write to Papa immediately.”
“Before you do, please be aware that though I only expect to be ill for another month or so, the invitation is for the rest of the summer, or however long Papa will allow me to keep you.” Elizabeth smiled.
“Though I have not spent as much time with you as Georgiana has, I can freely admit that we have both appreciated your calm presence. Honestly, there are times lately when you remind me of Jane.”
Secretly, Mary thought this was a bit of a stretch. Though she was calm in company, on the inside her roiling emotions often felt more like Lydia. Perhaps everyone was a balance between the two, however. Ultimately, it was up to each person to choose how to balance between placidity and chaos.
“I have enjoyed your company as well,” said Mary. “I will write to both Papa and Mama in hopes that Mama will remind our father to read his mail, so we are not waiting a fortnight for a response.”
~~~~~
A week later, Mary and the Darcys left London, bound for Pemberley.
The journey was slower than anyone expected, because Elizabeth, who had never been carriage sick, was quite ill for most of the journey.
They had to stop multiple times for her to empty the contents of her stomach by the side of the road.
Despite her discomfort, perhaps even because of it, Elizabeth insisted that they continue onward rather than returning to London. In the end all of them were pleased and relieved to finally reach their destination at the end of their third day of travel.
Elizabeth immediately retired to her bed, asking for weak tea and toast to be sent up to her. Georgiana worked with the housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, to ensure dinner would be on the table soon.
Mary wondered what help she could be under such circumstances, but she could think of nothing useful that was not already being done. When dinner was over, she thought she might check on how Elizabeth was doing, but Mr. Darcy did so before she could.
In the end, she spent the evening just as she and Georgiana had in London. They simply took turns entertaining each other with music, including playing several piano harp duets that they had worked on for the last few weeks.
The next morning, just as Mary was finishing her breakfast, Elizabeth’s maid came to her asking her to go to Elizabeth’s room when she was done. Mary did so, wondering what her sister would be asking of her.
When Mary entered Elizabeth’s sitting room, Elizabeth was curled up comfortably on a chaise by the fire, still in her night gown, though she wore a house coat over it. Mary was pleased to see that she looked far better than she had the day before.
“Ah, Mary. Thank you for coming to see me,” said Elizabeth. “While I am doing much better, I did not quite feel up to joining everyone for breakfast. Besides, this room is always my favorite. It has all my favorite furniture as well as excellent lighting.”
Mary looked around the room, which was papered mostly in cream. The furniture was all lightly colored as well, which contributed to a general feeling of airiness. “I see what you mean,” said Mary. “It is a lovely room.”
Elizabeth gestured for Mary to sit down in a chair nearby. Once she was seated, Mary asked, “How can I help?”
“I will likely stay in this room most of the time until I can eat a full meal again,” said Elizabeth.
“I want you to come keep me company for an hour or so each morning. While the room is quite pleasant, it could get rather lonely if I don’t see anyone all day.
Also, there are a few tenants I need you to call on.
There was some sickness in the neighborhood while we were gone, and I wish to ascertain that everyone has recovered. ”
Elizabeth and Mary talked for an hour or more about which tenants might need the most help and what kind of help would be most suitable. Mary also asked whether Alex and Jane would need any help, but Elizabeth waved away her concern.
“I believe their nurse has them well in hand most of the time,” she said. “When she needs a break, she can bring them in here. As long as they are well-behaved, I can manage them on my own. If I need any help in that quarter, however, I will send for you.”
When their discussion was complete, Mary stood to leave but before she could, Elizabeth said, “Thank you for coming to stay with me, Mary. I truly am grateful for your assistance.”
“It is I who must thank you,” said Mary. “I am simply glad to be of use.”
Mary’s days at Pemberley easily fell into a pattern, though it was different from the one in London. After breakfast, she would spend some time with Elizabeth. They talked of what needed to be accomplished that day as well as just chatting about various little things.
Then, Mary would spend the rest of her morning in the library or practicing piano. Afternoon was for making and receiving calls, both with their neighbors and with the tenants. When no other occupation presented itself, she would sit and work on some little project while chatting with Georgiana.
As spring turned into summer, Mary and Georgiana spent more time outdoors where Georgiana would share all the delightful little corners of wilderness on the vast Pemberley property.
As they did so, Mary began carrying her sketchbook around with her once again, so she could catalog all the plants she had never seen before.
Her activity made Georgiana curious, and the two young ladies spent hours exploring, sketching, and searching the library for books which would help them identify what they had seen.
Other than the fact that Mary missed John Fitzwilliam’s company desperately, Mary was quite content.
~~~~~
Upon learning that Mary Bennet was no longer in London, John quickly realized that London was the most boring place on Earth.
Yet, he knew that his estate wasn’t any better.
As boring and flat as London might be without the intriguing young lady, at least there were entertainments and occupations in the city that could not be found in the country.
He managed to muddle through, spending most of his nights in various clubs, pubs, and gambling halls and most of his days asleep.
It wasn’t ideal, but since the ideal would be to simply marry Miss Bennet and spend every night playing cards, or perhaps occupying themselves in even more pleasant activities, he put up with it.
He occasionally asked himself why he didn’t simply chase her down and make her love him, make her marry him.
He could never manage to produce an adequate answer.
Perhaps it was because he didn’t feel worthy of her regard, especially not after he had been so dishonest with her.
Perhaps it was because he no longer believed that love was automatically the best basis for marriage.
Most likely, it had something to do with his period of mourning. He had nearly betrayed his wife while she was alive. He would not betray her memory now that she was gone.
At the beginning of May, John finally stopped wearing his black armband.
As soon as word went around London that the Earl of Matlock was out of mourning, all hell broke loose.
John thought he had been receiving a lot of invitations before.
Now the number was simply ludicrous. There were at least half a dozen every single day.
Even if he wanted to, he would not have been able to accept them all.
After a week of this inundation of invitations, during which he refused every single one, the doorbell began to ring at all hours of the morning and afternoon, sometimes early enough to wake him from his sleep.
What made it all worse was that John’s butler couldn’t seem to comprehend that John did not wish to greet any lady. The old man seemed to be of the opinion that it was impossible to turn away any lady of equal or higher standing than John.
So, not only was his sleep disturbed by the ringing of the doorbell, but his peaceful breakfast and his time spent in his library were also interrupted when some dowager or other who did not have enough income to support the lavish lifestyle she wished for decided to plague him into marrying her.
None of them said so outright. In fact, every widow couched her advances in language that implied she simply missed the pleasure of the marriage bed, but John knew better.
If all they wanted was a casual fling, there were literally hundreds of gentlemen in London who would be happy to oblige.
John was not on that list, and everyone knew it.
If they approached him, it could only be for the purpose of winning his wealth and his status for themselves.
While the widows who were forward enough to call on him directly were bad enough, the worst ladies were the maidens who just happened to be walking by as he was heading into his club, especially the ones who happened to trip in such a way as to force him to catch them.
There was even one young lady who had pretended to faint right in front of his home in order to force his servants to bring her inside.
By mid-May, John had enough. Even the entertainment of London was not worth putting up with such nonsense for long. He packed his bags and headed back to Matlock for the summer.
He managed to make the journey in a single, very long day of travel, so it was quite late when he arrived home. However, his housekeeper greeted him with a candle and some soup and sandwiches before she retired.
Once the food had been gobbled up, John made his way to his own bedroom, changed into his night clothes, and lay down with a sigh. Within moments, he was fast asleep.