Chapter 34
Lizzy was passing through the entry hall of Pemberley, on her way to consult with Mrs. Reynolds, when she heard a conversation at the front door. A man was speaking to the butler in what sounded like a most urgent manner. Curious, she altered her course and went to see who was there.
“What is it, Barton?” she asked the butler.
“This gentleman insists on speaking to Miss Bennet, madam, but my understanding is that she is not accepting callers.”
Elizabeth looked at the handsome man. “And your name, sir?”
“Robert Yarby, ma’am.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I think Miss Bennet will be most happy to see this particular visitor, Barton. I shall take him to our guest. If you will please follow me, sir.”
She guided Mr. Yarby upstairs to a small sitting room, a favorite of Mary’s because of the good light for reading. She knocked, opened the door, and poked her head in.
“Mary, you have a visitor.”
Mary set her book aside, stood, and smoothed her dress, wondering who could have come to see her?
Was it her father? A feeling of guilty dread washed over her.
She nodded to her sister that she was ready, and could not help staggering back a step when Mr. Yarby walked in.
Lizzy winked at her and departed, closing the door firmly behind her.
For a moment, the two stood, eyeing each other warily. Then Mary dropped her eyes, cleared her throat, and curtseyed.
“Mr. Yarby. You have come for an explanation of my spreading such dreadful falsehoods about you and your sister, I surmise,” Mary said, softly. “I can have no excuse. My reprehensible behavior is unforgiveable.”
“Miss Bennet, I am the one who must beg your pardon. It was quite wrong of my sister, brother, and me to make sport of Miss Kitty that sunny day in the garden. I am so terribly sorry you overheard us.”
As the words sunk in, Mary’s head snapped up. “Kitty? You spoke of my sister that day?”
“Yes. You see, we had—I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet, may we both sit down?”
Still a bit stunned at his revelation, she nodded and motioned to the settee. The two sat, though Mary perched at the far edge, keeping her distance and avoiding his gaze.
“That is better,” Yarby said. “As I was saying, your sister was doing the very same thing you were—coming to me with Bible questions, although it became quite clear to me that her interest actually lay in…other matters. Still, she is a member of my parish and my employer’s daughter, so I could not refuse her entry.
I feel terrible that you heard our joshing and assumed it was you of whom we spoke.
Your visits to my library to discuss the Bible have always been most welcome, let me assure you. ”
“I feel even more a fool now,” Mary said in a choked voice.
“All the damage I caused—and it was not even about me!” She raised her eyes to Yarby’s.
“Please believe me when I say I am so very, very sorry. I did not mean to be hateful and deceitful about you and Amelia. I only did it because”—Mary took a deep breath—“because I care for you a great deal. And when I realized that you did not feel the same and heard Amelia encouraging you declare yourself to a lady…well, I could not bear it and fled.”
A broad smile spread over Yarby’s face. “Yes, we did speak of a woman to whom I wished to declare myself, as I recall. But I hesitated because I was not certain of the lady’s feelings.
Now I am. You see—that lady is you. It has always been you, Miss Bennet—Mary.
My affection for you has grown slowly and steadily this past year, but I was so afraid to tell you, afraid to even speak of it because of what people in Meryton might say—me courting the daughter of my employer.
I feared they would call me an opportunist. It is what made me hesitate to ask you for more than the one dance at the Christmas assembly, why I always carefully guarded my conversations with you and tried to keep a proper distance, even as I longed to hold your hand and kiss your lips. ”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
“Oh.” Mary was silent a long while as she tried to process this remarkable confession. “Would you…would you like to kiss me now?” She scooted over on the settee, closing the gap between them, and tilted her chin up.
Yarby laughed softly, then leaned in and touched his lips to hers—at first, barely skimming them, then pressing in again with more deliberation. When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched hers, and he asked, “Was that all right, Mary?”
“Oh yes, Mr. Yarby—I mean, Robert. It was…quite nice.” She leaned forward again, seeking the touch of his mouth, a sensation more exciting and marvelous than she had ever hoped or imagined.
After a time, they separated again, both just staring at each other with expressions of stunned joy.
“So, you truly love me?” she whispered.
“With all my heart.”
Tears filled Mary’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks, even as she continued smiling. Yarby gently brushed them from Mary’s face, his finger trailing along her cheek back to her lips.
“Now that we have that settled, you must come back to Longbourn with me, and I shall speak directly to your father. That is—if your answer is yes.”
Mary, never one to tease, still could not resist saying, “Answer? I don’t recall hearing a question.”
He laughed and slipped off the settee to one knee, holding both her hands tightly. “Miss Mary Bennet, will you please make me the happiest of men and agree to be my wife?”
At her accepting nod, he returned to his seat and pulled her close for another long kiss. At last, they sat, her head on his broad shoulder as he stroked her hair, marveling at this happy result.
“So, you did not think me foolish for bringing you my scripture questions?” Mary asked.
“Oh no. I looked forward to each encounter; you have such a thoughtful mind.” He paused a moment, before continuing. “In fact, tell me now: What was it you wanted to discuss that dreadful day when you overheard us talking and believed it was you of whom we spoke?”
Mary pulled away, embarrassed. “Love. I…wished to talk about some of the women in the Bible who love Jesus—for there are not many mentioned, as you know—the woman at the well to whom Jesus speaks, the widow who gives her last mite, and Veronica, who wiped our Lord’s face on his way to Calvary. ”
“All wonderful stories of a woman’s devotion. But do you know what my favorite quote about women from the Bible is?” he asked softly.
She shook her head.
“It is Proverbs 31:10: ‘Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.’” He kissed her again. “That is you, my dear, dear Mary. And all the rubies in the world could not persuade me to give you up.”