Chapter Fifteen #2
“Did you speak with him?” Georgiana asked, even more quietly.
“I did. Not about anything personal, mind, but only about the subjects I would be reading to the patients.”
“Did he approve of your choices?”
“He did,” Mary said on a sort of gasping sigh, the pleasure of the memory washing through her.
“There you go,” Georgiana said, beaming at her.
“Oh, no,” Mary objected. “It was the merest commonplace.”
“I see.” They walked a few steps in silence, then Georgiana asked, “Will he be coming to the assembly on Thursday?”
“Possibly. It will depend on his schedule at the infirmary,” Mary explained.
“I predict that he will be there, and he will ask you to dance.”
“He has never done so before,” Mary informed her.
“You must wear your prettiest dress,” Georgiana urged. “Something with blue trim, I think.”
“I do not believe I have a gown like that,” Mary said, shaking her head. None of my dresses are pretty. They are all so drab.
Georgiana waved that obstacle aside with her hand. “One of your sisters may have one. I have one, but it is much too large for you to wear—I am too tall, and there is no time to alter its length.”
“I will ask Lizzy, if that would please you. What a shame you cannot attend,” Mary said, thinking how confident she would be with a friend at her side.
“Besides not being out, I do not care to attend any assemblies—they are too public.”
“That…that…dastardly gentleman you spoke of cannot be in Meryton, surely?” Mary demanded, sounding shaken to her own ears.
Seeing the alarm on her friend’s countenance, she tempered her next remark.
“But I know what you mean. Even though a subscription is required for attendance, one must be aware of strangers amongst the familiarity of one’s neighbors. ”
“Perhaps it will not trouble me when I am older. By-the-by, it is confirmed that Miss Bingley’s sister and brother-in-law will be at Netherfield on Thursday in time to attend the assembly,” Georgiana revealed.
“Have you met them before? How do you like them?”
Mary watched her friend wrinkle her nose.
“I have met them several times. Mrs. Hurst cares very much about her place in the hierarchy of English society,” Georgiana said. “I think she is a bad influence on Miss Bingley, turning her into a prideful woman. And, I have often observed how Mrs. Hurst pesters her siblings about marrying well.”
“Has Mrs. Hurst married well?” Mary spied a half-dead pink rose, reached out and took hold of it, and twisted it off. She dropped the dead-head on the ground for the gardener to find and remove.
“I suppose society would say she has. Though his fortune is sufficient to support a wife, and to manage their lifestyle, he is not a man I would wish to marry. He is indolent, you see,” Georgiana said frankly.
“I am used to my brother, who is tirelessly busy with his estate, local affairs, and the charity boards upon which he sits.”
“My father is a scholarly man,” Mary pointed out. “His intellectual interests often distract him from the business of his estate. Fortunately, he has an excellent estate manager.”
“Oh, a scholar. That would be something,” came Georgiana’s eager rebuttal. “Knowledge is always worthwhile. And, a scholar has conversation. Mr. Hurst talks of nothing but gossip and fashion.” She shrugged. “Sometimes he speaks of sporting pursuits.”
“I think you are working out for yourself what type of man you may be interested in marrying,” Mary offered, her eyebrows high. “You have said nothing about ease of manner, however.”
“I confess to being suspicious of that trait,” Georgiana said, frowning. “It can hide much of a person’s character. Though Mr. Bingley has ease of manner, he is also open-hearted. He pleases me—but as a friend, only.”
“I wonder…is ease of manner the same as charm?” Mary asked in a musing way.
Georgiana shook her head. “I think they can be found in the same person, but I believe they are different.”
“I expect you are right.”
“What of your doctor friend? What are his character traits?”
Mary felt her cheeks warm as she thought of Oscar. “He is…kind. And considerate. He can be forceful when he is managing a difficult patient. He expects to be obeyed when he is directing the nurses, but he is polite to them, too.”
“That must be an important trait to have if one is a doctor,” Georgiana said, her head tilted to one side. “What else, pray?”
“When we all played together as children, Oscar always played fair. No one was allowed to cheat or bully anyone else. He led, and we followed.”
“I wish I had had a houseful of children to play with, or many neighborhood children who wanted me to join in their games,” Georgiana said wistfully. “It sounds as though you had a grand time.”
“For the most part, that is true,” Mary said, unwilling to mention all the times she had felt left out because she had stood on the sidelines whenever a game or activity seemed too dangerous to her.
“I was not an intrepid child. Lydia was excessively bold. The truth is that she remains so, carrying Kitty along with her.” Mary sighed.
“I wish…no, never mind my maudlin thoughts. Tell me, instead, what you did for fun as a child.”
Their footsteps had taken them around the side of the house, leading them into the front gardens where they laughed and chatted between the late-flowering chrysanthemums. They were about to turn their steps back toward the house when someone called out to them from the road beyond the open front gate.
“Miss Mary!”
Mary drew in a breath. “Goodness, it is Oscar.”
She turned swiftly around. “Dr. Gregg?” she called out, taking several steps toward the gate, aware of Georgiana keeping back.
“Do come into our garden.” He hesitated, but finally entered a little way.
He held up his hand toward her, and Mary stopped going to meet him.
His beloved face looked grave. “What is it? What is wrong?”
“I beg your pardon for alarming you,” Oscar said, bowing. Mary immediately curtsied. “I came to tell you not to come to the infirmary this week.”
Mary’s brow furrowed. “Why is that? Oh, excuse me.” She half turned toward Georgiana. “Allow me to introduce my friend, Miss Darcy. Miss Darcy, this is Doctor Oscar Gregg.” Georgiana came no closer, but she curtsied and Oscar bowed. “Now, Doctor Gregg, why do you wish me to stay away?”
He took a deep breath and then blew it slowly out of his nose. “Early this morning, a child with typhus was admitted to the infirmary. He is only eight.”
Mary pressed the flat of one hand against her chest. Her eyes widened. “Typhus. Good heavens.”
“He has been isolated, but such a risk to your health cannot be borne,” he stated clearly. “Perhaps the risk is a small one, since you do not touch the patients, but…”
His handsome features, so grave, so attentive to her well-being, caused Mary’s heart to clench. The risk to his health made her stomach roil. She swallowed thickly and tried to say something sensible.
“Is he anyone I might know?” she asked.
“Jimmy Butcher?” Oscar said, his voice rising at the end to make the name into a query.
Mary shook her head. “You will be careful, I hope?” she asked, and then caught her breath at her temerity. Please, Lord, let him be safe.
Oscar nodded. “I intend to.”
From behind Mary, she heard Georgiana whisper, “The assembly.”
Boldly, Mary asked, “Um, will you be attending the assembly this Thursday?”
“I meant to,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair and messing it up. He smoothed it down again. “But I dare not. I will not be the cause of anyone else catching typhus.”
“Is that likely?” Mary asked, feeling sick to her stomach. Frowning, she said, “Did you not have typhus as a child?”
He nodded. “I did, and I do not expect to catch it again. However, we do not know enough about the disease to be certain how it is spread.”
Mary clasped her hands together. “Caution is warranted.”
“It is.”
“Very well. Thank you for taking the time to come and tell me.”
“Of course. Good day to you both.” Oscar bowed to her and then to Georgiana. He turned to leave, but then hesitated. Turning back, he said, “I had meant to ask you if you would save me a dance at the assembly.”
Surprised, Mary could not stop herself from beaming. “I would have done so.”
He glanced at the ground, a small smile playing over his lips. “Excellent. Excellent,” he murmured. Then, he turned away and strode through the Longbourn gates without saying another word.
He asked me…Will my heart ever stop beating so hard? My head is spinning. My mouth is dry. He asked me…
Mary stood there looking after him, until Georgiana grasped her upper arm within both of her hands.
“He asked you to dance!” she squealed. “He asked you! He asked you!”
Mary felt herself tremble all over. She tried to lick her lips, tried to stop her mouth from being dry. Finally, she managed to swallow.
“I…I…”
“I think you need to sit down,” Georgiana said.
Mary saw her searching the front garden—presumably for a bench—and waved at one that was set against the ivy-covered garden wall. Georgiana supported her over to the stone seat, and they both plopped down onto it as though their knees could scarcely hold them up for one more second.