Chapter 20 #2
It was the first day of December, a Saturday, when Richard Fitzwilliam arrived at Netherfield Park after leaving Rosings Park before sunrise.
The longer Richard had been away from the neighbourhood, the more he missed the middle Bennet daughter.
He decided that he would refresh himself immediately and then he would hie to Longbourn in order to see her and ease the ache he hoped she, too, was feeling.
Richard Fitzwilliam was taken by her intelligence and the dry wit that she allowed others to see from time to time.
In his discussions with her, it had not taken him long to discern her intelligence was almost as sharp as her next oldest sister, even though Miss Mary tried her best to hide that fact.
He did not care if she was plain, but as an officer trained in the art of deception, it was but short work for him to determine she was more than she allowed the world to see in character and, he suspected, in looks.
He hoped he would be the one to show her she had no need to hide her true self from the world any longer.
“No need to go tearing over the countryside on that charger of yours, Richard,” his mother waylaid him.
“The Bennet, Lucas, and Phillips families will be here in about an hour for dinner. I think you will be surprised to see them,” Lady Elaine stated cryptically.
Knowing all the mentioned family members, Richard could not fathom why his mother had emphasised the word surprised.
An hour later the guests’ carriages arrived at Netherfield Park.
Richard joined his brother and William as they strode towards the Bennet equipage to assist the ladies.
Bennet was first to emerge; he handed out his wife, Kitty, Gigi, and Lydia.
He then stood back and allowed Darcy to hand out his betrothed, followed by Andrew, who performed the office for Jane.
Richard offered his hand to Miss Mary, and when she stood before him, his breath was taken away from him as he beheld the vision of beauty she was. “Our Mary is a vision, is she not?” Bennet quipped, which broke the spell.
“Miss Mary, it is so very good to see you again,” Richard managed when he could again draw breath.
“And you, Mr. Fitzwilliam,” Mary returned with a smile.
“Do you not think we should enter the house?” Lady Elaine suggested as she watched her son’s reaction with pleasure.
As they all moved indoors, Richard did not miss the smiles and grins on the faces around him.
It seemed no one had shared that Miss Mary was no longer hiding her light.
While he was longing for the companionship of Miss Mary before, now it was a deeper ache.
That he pined for and needed her was both pleasure and torture.
The confidence he felt radiating from Miss Mary only enhanced the attraction he felt for her.
As they walked into the house, Richard was in awe of the woman he was walking next to.
He had suspected Miss Mary did not allow herself to be seen as she actually was, and held back her true character, the true depths of her intelligence, and her wit.
He had never suspected the extent of her beauty.
He would have asked the question he was about to even if she looked the way she had presented herself previously.
“Miss Mary, would you grant me a private interview?” Richard asked as soon as they arrived in the drawing room.
“If my father grants it, then yes sir, I do,” Mary replied softly.
“As Mary has agreed, I have no objection,” Bennet allowed.
“The study is open,” Darcy informed his cousin.
“Mary, you know my restriction about the door, do you not?” Bennet reminded his third daughter, who nodded. “You have ten minutes.”
“Miss Mary,” Richard began as soon as the door was partially closed, “I have desired to ask you this question for all the weeks of our separation as I learnt about running my estate. I tell you this, as I want you to know that my feelings for you were never tied to your external beauty, which I always suspected you had.”
“Your being shallow never entered my thoughts, Mr. Fitzwilliam,” Mary granted.
“Richard, if you please, Miss Mary,” Richard requested.
“In that case, Mary.”
“Mary, I find I have fallen in love with you. I was not looking for love when I came to join William for Bingley’s ball, but as soon as I saw you, I knew you were special.
I was certain that, for your own reasons, you were hiding your true self from the world.
I was never fooled by the facade you presented.
I saw you, Mary, the real you. I knew there was so much more to you, and I do not refer to your looks.
I know you have much more to offer the world than you were willing to show, and I pray that you are confident enough to reveal yourself to the world and allow all to see you are second to none,” Richard saw tears form in her eyes, and reached out to brush them dry with his finger.
“These are tears of joy, Richard. I allowed my late mother’s voice to hold sway over me.
That you saw me as I am, before I allowed any to see how I truly am, tells me how pure your love for me is.
I do not love you—yet, but I am well on my way to being in that state.
I am grateful I have earned your love and regard,” Mary stated with feeling.
“Do not forget respect, Mary; I have the highest respect for you. Mary Bennet, will you honour me by granting me a courtship? Hopefully, you will come to love this old soldier as he loves you. I could not see anyone, but you navigate the vagaries of life with me,” Richard stated.
“It is with the greatest of pleasure I accept your courtship, Richard,” Mary’s heart sang, for she had won the love of a good and honourable man.
Richard leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly on Mary’s. He did not deepen the kiss, but neither missed the electricity the brief touch of their lips produced. “Mary, will you ask your father to join me so I may request his consent and blessing?” Richard asked.
Mary smiled and left to pass Richard’s request forward.
Five minutes later, before the families were called to dinner, Bennet announced his blessing for Richard’s and Mary’s courtship.
The announcement did not come as a surprise, and congratulations flowed.
Once the room calmed, Bennet announced the date for the wedding of his second daughter and William Darcy.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
It was bitterly cold in Scarborough—almost as cold as Miss Caroline Bingley’s heart.
No matter how many letters she had written to her friends in Town, she had received only one reply.
The short missive was from Miss Hawthorne-Smythe, who told her not to have the temerity to contact her again as word of Miss Bingley’s actions were known throughout London society.
She was ruined and Mr. Darcy was lauded for escaping her attempted compromise.
Bingley and his younger sister were residing with their Aunt and Uncle Bingley, their father’s younger brother.
The London papers, delayed due to the weather, were delivered one morning while they were sitting together in the parlour, during the worst snowstorm Scarborough had experienced in recent memory.
As was her wont, Caroline searched the gossip and social columns.
All was peaceful until she screeched: “NOOOOOO!”
“Caroline, what is wrong?” Bingley asked with concern.
“We must go to Mr. Darcy and save him. He has proposed to that country mushroom Eliza Bennet, I must…” whatever the harpy was about to spout was cut off.
“Shut up, Caroline!” Bingley growled. “Your delusions ruined you in society and I have more than likely lost the friendship of my best friend, but you still ignore the facts.
If you dare to approach Darcy or any of his family, they will give you the cut direct.
Bingley turned to his uncle. “Uncle, we have all tried to talk sense into her and nothing has worked. Am I wrong thinking she needs to be committed to an institution for the mentally unbalanced?”
Before his uncle could answer, Miss Bingley sprang out of her chair and bolted out of the house into what could only be termed a blizzard, without a pelisse or coat.
After wrapping themselves as well as they could, Bingley and his uncle tried to search for her, but there was almost no visibility.
Even with the layers each was wearing, they were chilled to the bone after ten minutes and forced to return to the house without success.
The storm passed two days later, and as soon as they were able to make their way through the snow blocking the doorway, the two Bingley men and their footmen mounted a search. They found Caroline’s frozen body not twenty feet from the house.
She had slipped and hit her heard on a fencepost. There was no way of knowing whether she had been killed by the blow to the head or by the sub-freezing temperatures. A few days later when the Hursts arrived, Caroline Bingley was laid to rest next to her parents.
“Did I drive her to do this?” Bingley asked his sister and brother-in-law.
“No, Charles, there was something inside of our sister which allowed her to hear and see only that which fit her beliefs and desires,” Mrs. Hurst opined.
“We tried everything, and you were left with but one option. Had she been sane, Caroline would not have bolted into the worst storm in the last fifty years. I pray she is finally at peace.”
“I echo your prayer, Sister,” Bingley stated.