Chapter Sixty-Three
M ary was puzzled by Elizabeth’s invitation to join her in London, and not altogether eager to accept. Her mother, however, had no reservations on the matter, and so Mary and Kate climbed into the Darcy coach when it arrived for them. It was a very comfortable conveyance, and so the three-hour journey to London passed painlessly enough.
Both girls gawked when the coach pulled up in front of Darcy House. “She is very rich,” Kate whispered.
“I had not really understood how wealthy Mr. Darcy is,” Mary whispered back.
The two girls climbed the front steps up to the entryway, and a stern-looking butler said, “You must be Miss Bennet.”
Mary said, “I am, and this is Kate Simmons.”
The butler inclined his head in acknowledgement and led them into the drawing room where Elizabeth waited.
Elizabeth was delighted beyond words to see familiar faces. Not just familiar faces, but kind faces, loving faces, faces that did not want to judge her for her clothing or her connections. And though she thought she had exhausted all her tears, the very sight of Mary and Kate brought them on again, as she rushed to hug her visitors.
Mary was shocked. “Lizzy! Whatever –“
“I will tell you all, but not here.”
***
Upstairs in a newly redecorated guest room, Mary and Kate listened to Elizabeth’s story. She was alternately shocked, upset, furious, dismayed and troubled, and finally deeply disturbed by the notion of her sister having been treated in so infamous a manner. Finally, Mary said, “Can you not simply come home?”
“How I wish I could! But the Countess, as well as our own Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, think it best for me to stay in London, pretending that my husband has sent me here to enjoy myself.”
“Pretense! This is all very well, but what will he say when he discovers where you are? Which he will, eventually, will he not?”
“I suppose he will force me to return to Pemberley and his terrible mother; all the more reason that I should enjoy myself in London while I can.” Elizabeth tried to sound gay, but her voice was brittle.
“I suppose,” Mary said, her doubt evident in her voice.
Kate spoke. “I cannot believe what that Abby did to you. I am so, so sorry, Mrs. Darcy. If a woman may not trust her own maid, she cannot trust anyone! It is a sacred bond!”
“Kate, if I must return to Pemberley – and Mary is right, my husband will eventually discover my whereabouts and force me back – then I beg you to come with me. I need at least one person that I can trust to be with me.” Elizabeth’s voice was ragged. “The Countess sent me one of her own maids, Alice, to teach you what you need to know for so-called high society.”
“I will be happy to take instruction from her, of course, and I will protect you from all the Abbys of the world!” Kate vowed.
“Mary, perhaps you might consider coming to Pemberley as well?” Elizabeth asked. “It would be so very good to have you with me.”
“I do not know, Lizzy; it sounds very dreadful.” Mary shuddered.
“Oh! The estate is everything lovely, Mary! It is only Lady Anne who is dreadful.”
“And servants who were willing to be bribed to mistreat you, and a sister by marriage who is too weak to stand up for herself. It does not sound at all pleasant, but I will think on it, as I can see it would be good for you to have people around you who you can trust,” Mary replied.
“Thank you, Mary; that is it exactly. Now tell me all the news from home, as all I hear about lately is Jane’s expectations.”
Mary spoke about her parents, her sisters, the estate tenants, the servants, and it soon became clear to Elizabeth that Mary was a changed woman. No longer did she utter homilies and proverbs; it was as if she had been asleep and was now awake to the inequities around her. Once Mary had finished giving her sister the news from Meryton, she launched into a description of her latest reading projects, and ended by saying, “And I hope we might visit Hatchard’s while I am here, as I have some very particular interests now.”
Elizabeth assured her that visiting Hatchard’s was easy to accomplish, and there were a good many music stores in Town that Mary would doubtless want to patronise as well. She reassured Mary’s concerns about the expense of such delights by saying, “I am happy to have all the bills sent to Mr. Darcy’s man of business.”
***
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had been apprised of Mary’s arrival in London, and they immediately invited their nieces to dinner. With hugs and kisses all around, Mary and Elizabeth spent some time playing with their young cousins before sitting down with Mrs. Gardiner in the drawing room.
While waiting for Mr. Gardiner to join them, Mary was asked about the family in Meryton. Mary made a face. “Kitty and Lydia were none too pleased at having Kate taken from them.”
Mrs. Gardiner said, sympathetically, “I imagine they were not.”
“I sent enough money for Mama to replace her,” Elizabeth shrugged. “And Papa no longer has the burden of supporting Jane, Mary and myself, so there should be plenty of extra funds available in any case.”
“If he does not spend it all on books!” Mary exclaimed.
“None of that is your concern any longer,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “You have enough to think about without worrying about your father’s expenditures.”
“I suppose that is true,” Mary said, sounding unconvinced. “But Mary Wollstonecraft has quite convinced me that we ladies must interest ourselves in those things that affect us, even if it is considered unwomanly to do so.”
“Mary Wollstonecraft? I see,” Mrs. Gardiner did her best not to smile. “Your sister is in some difficulty, Mary; let us focus on that.”
Mary subsided, though she clearly wished to say more.
Elizabeth stared at the carpet at her feet. “I suppose difficulty is as good a word as any.” Then she looked up. “I am married to a man who now wishes he had married his cousin. Aunt, what am I to do?”
Mrs. Gardiner looked concerned. “As your husband, he has the right to command your return at any time.”
Mary frowned. “And is that not entirely wrong?”
Elizabeth laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “It is wrong, but it is so. Though I do not know why he would want me back, given his feelings.”
“I think you know the answer to that, Elizabeth,” Mrs. Gardiner said, very gently.
“To give him an heir, I suppose.” Elizabeth’s tone was flat.
“You suppose correctly.” Seeing her niece’s mutinous expression, she added, “Elizabeth, it all looks very bleak now, but things are likely to change. Change is the only constant, you know; nothing stays the same.”
“He does not yet know you are in London?” Mary enquired. “How is that possible?”
“The only person who knew of my destination was the coachman, and he remains here with me. But I can tell you that I am living well at my husband’s expense.” Elizabeth’s words were light, but her tone was flat.
“Do you still love him?” Mrs. Gardiner asked, very gently.
“I wish I did not!” Elizabeth cried out.
“The heart can be very stubborn, my dear.”
Mr. Gardiner entered the room, putting an end to such sentimental conversation. Instead, Elizabeth described the fun she and Mary would have, once Mary was provided with a suitable wardrobe. Mr. Gardiner glanced at his wife, and she glanced back at him. Very good, he thought, settling back in his chair; Madeline will explain all later.
***
Mademoiselle Laurent was by now well acquainted with Elizabeth Darcy, who had become a favorite client simply because her bills were paid promptly by Mr. Darcy’s London man of business; this was a rarity in London society. As a result, she was delighted to be asked to create a wardrobe for Mrs. Darcy’s sister and was willing to push aside the orders of far more important clients in order to attend to Miss Bennet immediately.
She drew the line, however, at accommodating Mary’s preferences for greys and browns, saying that her own reputation was on the line. “You need colour, Miss Bennet, and I hope you will trust me to supply that colour without rendering you in any way immodest or uncomfortable,” the woman said, pinpointing Mary’s concerns immediately.
Mary mumbled something, clearly unhappy, but Elizabeth intervened, saying, “Mary, what is appropriate for Meryton and what is appropriate for London are vastly different. I beg you to trust Mademoiselle Laurent. Kate, do you not agree?”
Kate, who had been invited on the outing, replied, at once. “I have always thought Miss Bennet’s clothing did not flatter her; it is past time for her to try something new.”
Mary protested that trying to look attractive to the male sex was merely pandering to the inequality of modern society, but she finally succumbed to pressure from Elizabeth and Kate, and allowed the modiste’s assistant to take her measurements.
“Until at least one of the new dresses is ready, we cannot let you go to social events, but you are presentable enough that we can take tea in public. Oh, do not laugh, the dresses I arrived with were so stained that the Countess would not allow me to go to even a tea-shop until I had at least one new gown! Come, there is a shop nearby that has the most scrumptious scones!”
Mrs. Darcy asked for a table near the window so that she, Mary and Kate might amuse themselves by watching the foot traffic. Two ladies paused at their window, one with a little dog on a leash. Taking advantage of his mistress’ momentary inattention resulting from her conversation with her companion, the little brown dog pulled the leash from his mistress’ loose grasp and ran into the road.
The dog’s owner immediately cried out and started to run into the road after the little creature, but her friend prevented her from doing so, holding her arm and exclaiming against such folly.
Mary jumped up, threw her napkin onto the table, and ran out of the restaurant.
“Mary! Stop! You will be killed!” Elizabeth was frantic; she ran out of the shop after her sister.
Nimbly dodging the horses and carriages, Mary made her way to the little animal, now frozen in place and quivering with fear, and picked him up. “Bad boy!” she whispered to him. Gauging the traffic carefully, she made her way back to the sidewalk.
Her dog deposited into her arms, the owner of the miscreant cuddled him up, alternately berating and praising him, while Elizabeth scolded Mary. “You just ran into the middle of London’s busiest street! Are you mad!?”
The dog’s owner looked up. “She may be mad, but I am – oh! So very grateful! My Freddie is a bad boy, but I love him dearly! May I know your name?”
“I am Miss Bennet, and this is my sister –“
But the owner of the dog interrupted her, saying, “Mrs. Darcy! I was so taken up with this creature’s bad behaviour and this young lady’s bravery that I did not notice you!”
“Lady Cowper! How very nice to see you, though I could wish for less dramatic circumstances,” Elizabeth replied.
“And this is your sister?”
“Yes; she has just come from the country and we have ordered a London wardrobe for her,” Elizabeth said, hoping to explain away Mary’s very plain brown cotton dress.
“From Mademoiselle Laurent, I collect?”
“Yes; how did you know?”
“By your own clothing; I recognise her skill. Also, I know that Mademoiselle Laurent dresses the Countess of Matlock.”
“We still need gloves, hats, mantuas and so on, but we chose to take some refreshment. And it is well for your little dog that we did, though I confess I would never have had the courage to do what my sister did.”
“Mrs. Darcy, I told you I would send a voucher for Almack’s for the next Season; I will do the same for your intrepid sister,” Lady Cowper said.
“Almack’s! But I –“ Mary began.
“You are everything generous, Lady Cowper,” Elizabeth interrupted.
After many courtesies and curtseys were exchanged, Elizabeth and Mary returned to the tearoom, where Kate had stayed to watch over their belongings.
“I have no interest in going to Almack’s,” Mary said, grimly. “And I have no intention of being here at Christmas, let alone next year.”
“I understand your feelings, Mary, but it happens that you are here now, at any rate – and just think, Mary, these are social prizes much coveted by Miss Bingley; you would have the opportunity to tell her all about it!”
Mary tried to look somber at this, but failed utterly and the two sisters laughed until they were out of breath.