Mistress Mary and the General: A Pride and Prejudice Inspired Story Page 3

  “I was enjoying the quiet until Mama comes down. She is very upset Lizzy has had another daughter, but dares not allow Papa to know it. I suspect they will be returning to Longbourn in a day or two.” She sipped her chocolate, frowning as she discovered it had chilled.

  “May I freshen your cup?” Richard asked as he set his plate down across from her. He had never paid much attention to this Bennet sister; she was normally hidden behind a book and far from communicative. He believed her latest speech was the most he had ever heard from her.

  Miss Bennet raised her eyes to meet his, her head tilted as though she were unaccustomed to being served. “If it would not be too much trouble …”

  “Not at all.” Richard took her cup and returned to the side table. After fixing his own coffee, he refilled her chocolate and returned, setting it down in front of her before taking his seat.

  Though Richard had little appetite, he fell upon his food as any soldier might; head bent, almost guarding his plate as he quickly began to eat. A soft giggle breeched his focus and he raised his head to find her watching him. Realizing his posture was the source of her amusement, he sat upright, an embarrassed grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Forgive me, army habits die hard.”

  “Do not worry that you have shocked me, sir. You are not the first officer with whom I have had the honour of dining.”

  “Oh, that is correct. Your brother-in-law is in the regulars, is he not?” Richard remembered the to-do which occurred when the youngest Bennet sister eloped with a ne’er-do-well. Luckily for the girl, the scoundrel fell to his death during an escape attempt and she was married off to a respectable soldier.

  “Yes. Colonel Carter and my sister, Lydia, are currently stationed not far from here.” Miss Bennet turned pensive. “I am surprised Mama has not pressed Papa to visit them since we are so near.” Shrugging her shoulders, she turned her attention back to her plate. “I must remember not to mention it or Father will be very displeased.”

  Richard frowned. “Your father does not approve of him?”

  A laugh escaped her lips before she firmly pressed them together. “Forgive me, sir.” Her expression turned sober once more. “You are aware of the patched up circumstances surrounding my sister’s marriage. My father believes Lydia is the silliest child he sired. As Colonel Carter agreed to marry her in her disgrace, he doubts the man has a lick of sense.”

  Grabbing his serviette from his lap, Richard turned his head and began coughing. The coffee he had just sipped appeared trapped somewhere in his throat as he fought the urge to laugh.

  “Are you unwell, sir?” Mary asked fearing he was choking as his countenance was quite red. “Should I call someone?” She began to rise.

  Richard shook his head and waved for her to remain seated. Finally able to find his voice, he turned back and smiled. “I am well. Your comment simply took me by surprise.”

  Miss Bennet blushed as she returned her attention to her plate. Nothing more was said as she finished her breakfast. After drinking the last of her chocolate, she set the cup down and looked across the table. Richard sat gazing at his plate, but he appeared to be moving the food about now more than consuming it. Clearing her throat, she drew his attention.

  “I bid you adieu, sir. I have finished my breakfast and shall go spend some time with the children before they begin their lessons.” Her colour heightened and she worried her lip as though she wished to say more.

  Richard rose from his chair and she followed suit. She made to leave, but stopped before reaching the door and turned back to stare at him quizzically.

  “Yes?”

  “Forgive me, sir, but … yesterday your son mentioned it has been more than a day since he has seen you.”

  Tears entered his eyes and his countenance darkened. “I fear he is correct. I have not wished …. He should not see me at this time.”

  Miss Bennet’s brow creased and a look of disappointment crossed her countenance. “It is very difficult for a child to be ignored by a parent, even more so when there is no other …” She lowered her eyes. “Forgive me, sir, it is not my place.”

  “No, it is not.” Richard’s tone was stern as he stood straighter. “I am not ignoring my children, Miss Bennet. I believe it is best if they do not see me as I currently am.” Tossing his serviette upon the table, he turned toward the door, but stopped as he reached her side. “They need me to be strong, but all I see when I look at them is my wife, and my heart weeps.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he hurriedly exited the room.

  Mary remained, as though she were rooted to the spot, staring after him until her father entered a few minutes later. She was deep in thought and he allowed a smile to creep across his countenance as he studied her.

  “Have you been petrified, my dear? Shall I call the physician?”

  She started, as though she were just seeing him. “Forgive me, Papa. Good morning. I trust you slept well?”

  “Yes, yes, as did you.” He stepped closer to her. “But something has occurred. Come, tell me what it is.” He took her arm and led her back to the table before crossing to the side table and fixing his plate.

  Mr. Bennet had not always been an attentive father; however, with only Mary and his wife in their home since Kitty’s marriage, he had begun to exert himself and nurture a relationship with his middle daughter. Certainly she was not as quick witted as Elizabeth, but they had shared some spirited theological debates and he liked to think she had come by some improvement due to them.

  Taking his seat beside her, he nodded for her to begin as he took a bite of egg. Mary’s countenance darkened and her brows knit together, reminding Mr. Bennet of the expression she would wear when she was younger and he would tease her. He set down his fork and gave her his full attention.

  “Something is obviously bothering you, Child. Do not fear I will find humour in your discomfort. Tell me what it is.”

  Mary looked down at her hands, folded properly in her lap, obviously debating her words. “Father, I do not wish to insult you, but I feel the need to speak of what I have observed.”

  He placed a finger beneath her chin, and she reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his. “Mary, you are truly upset. What could have transpired?”

  “Papa,” she began, but continued to struggle with how to voice her concerns.

  “Yes?” he urged, a hint of impatience entering his tone.

  Taking a deep breath, she plunged forward. “For most of my life I have felt lost in the middle of my sisters. I was never as beautiful as Jane and Elizabeth, nor as sociable as Kitty and Lydia, so I attempted to stand out in my own way. Witnessing everyone’s pleasure in Lizzy’s playing, I practiced for hours upon the pianoforte. Though I was more proficient, I could not achieve the ease with which she played, or draw emotions from my audience as she did.”

  Frowning, Mr. Bennet began to feel ill at ease with the conversation. He was aware of his failings as a father but, being human, did not wish for them to be brought to mind.

  Mary continued, obviously ignorant of his discomfort. “Seeing how you teased my younger sisters for their silliness, I became determined to be serious in all matters. But this seemed to draw as much derision.” Tears glistened in her eyes and she looked down at her hands again. “Mama only seemed to notice me when my sisters were not about, or I was affecting her nerves.”

  Mr. Bennet laid his hand over hers; a tightness forming in his chest. “I apologize, Mary. I …”

  She raised her eyes to his and shook her head. “I am not saying these things to draw an apology from you, Papa. We have come to have a rewarding relationship, and I treasure these last few years. I am simply explaining how neglected I felt during the time before.”

  She bit her lip and glanced toward the door. “I have seen similar feelings in General Fitzwilliam’s children. Little William is such a remarkable child, but he misses his father. Beth and Richie do not understand what has occurred. They miss both their parents.”

  Noddin
g, Mr. Bennet returned to his plate. “Darcy has spoken to me regarding his cousin. The General is withdrawing from the world and Darcy knows not how to best serve him.”

  “I fear I may have made matters worse.”

  He attempted to meet her eyes, but she looked away. “Which brings us back to my original question. What occurred this morning, Mary?”

  “I spoke to the General.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I fear I spoke out of turn.”

  Mr. Bennet laid his fork upon his plate and turned his full attention to his daughter, waiting patiently for her to continue.

  She fidgeted a moment longer before speaking softly. “I accused him of ignoring his children.”

  His jaw dropped open, surprised by her audacity. He had no memory of Mary ever confronting anyone outside their immediate family. Closing his mouth, he considered her words. “Perhaps, just perhaps, it was what he needed to hear. We shall wait to see what he does now.”

  Mary nodded and stood. “I am late. I promised the children I would spend time with them this morning.”

  “You are a good girl, Mary.” Mr. Bennet stood and kissed his daughter on the cheek before sending her from the room. He returned to his meal, pondering what he had learned. He remained in this posture when his wife arrived a short time later to break her fast.

  “Ah, Mr. Bennet, I have been thinking.”

  “A dangerous thing, my dear.” He smiled as she shook her head in irritation.

  “It has been so long since we were this far north. Would it not be a shame to be so near and not visit dear Lydia?” She took her seat while her husband fixed her plate.

  Frowning, he set her food before her and regained his seat. “Have you heard from Lydia? Is she expecting us?”

  Mrs. Bennet seasoned her food as she tilted her head to the side. “I may have mentioned we would be in the area in my last letter to her.”

  His brows knit together. “I am certain she knew you would be at Pemberley as Lizzy was entering confinement. Did you tell her we would travel farther north?”

  “Oh, Mr. Bennet, we have not seen their latest home. Lydia writes that it is quite fashionable. And Harriet will be four soon. Would it not be delightful to be there for her birthday?”

  Resigned, Mr. Bennet leaned back in his seat. “And when do you suggest we leave, Mrs. Bennet?”

  “Oh, Lizzy has all she needs; Jane is here, and her staff is exceedingly efficient. I believe we could leave within a day or two; do you not agree?”

  He watched her closely. “But what of Lucinda? She is but a few days old. Would she not miss her grandmother?” He hid his smirk behind his cup of tea.

  “Lucinda is lovely, as are all of Lizzy’s daughters.” Catching herself, she took a bite of potato and chewed it thoroughly before continuing. “It would be a shame to miss sweet Harriet’s birthday.”

  Mr. Bennet took up his serviette to wipe his lips before placing it on the table. “Yes, I suppose it would.”

  A smile spread across Mrs. Bennet’s countenance and she clapped her hands together. “I shall tell Mary to pack her things.”

  “No, I believe Mary should remain at Pemberley. There are quite a number of children in residence at the moment, and she could be of great assistance.” He stood and left the room without further discussion, in search of his son-in-law.

  Chapter Four

  Darcy felt like a predator, stalking the hallways of his own home, lying in wait for his cousin to appear. He had wanted to speak to Richard for some time, but was uncertain as of what to say. Mr. Bennet’s story confirmed what he and his family had observed; Richard was withdrawing from everyone he had once held dear. Though the discussion with his father-in-law had convinced Darcy it was time to confront his cousin, it was the report he received from his stables moments later which led him to his current location.

  Following his conversation with Mary, it appeared Richard had requested Phantom be saddled. When the groom refused, stating the stable master had told him no one was to ride the beast, Richard took the task into his own hands. Darcy’s stable master had come to him as soon as he learned of it, obviously distressed. Phantom, the strongest stallion at Pemberley, had a reputation as a dangerous mount.

  Darcy understood the release which came from riding a powerful steed; on more than one occasion since meeting his wife, he had been seen racing the winds on Lightning. But Phantom was unpredictable.

  He glanced out the window again, watching the trees bend in the strong winds and reminding himself that Richard was the best horseman he knew. He paced the length of the hall once more, twisting his signet ring repeatedly. As he yet again passed his wife’s door, it opened, effectively startling him from his thoughts.

  “William, I must insist you find somewhere else to do your pacing. Lucinda is finally asleep, but I fear the creaking boards will wake her.”

  “Creaking?”

  “Yes, Dearest. If you continue in this manner, the boards shall begin to creak after another pass or two.” She laid a hand upon his arm. “What has you so distressed?” she asked, already knowing it had something to do with his cousin.

  “Richard is riding Phantom.”

  Visions of her husband riding his horse, Lightning, at a breakneck speed while they were staying at Netherfield flashed through her mind and her eyes grew wide. “How much time has passed since he left? Has anyone been sent to find him?”

  Darcy took her into his arms and placed a kiss upon her forehead. “He has not been gone long. I am simply concerned for his state of mind.”

  Elizabeth drew back to meet his eye and raised a questioning brow.

  “Mary confronted him regarding the children. Richard has not seen them for more than a day.”

  “Mary?” she asked doubtfully.

  A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Yes, Mary. Does it surprise you that your sister would be so outspoken?”

  “Yes, it does.” She pursed her lips. “Did she sermonize him? That I might find more easy to believe.”

  “I know not what precisely was said or how. Your father only said Mary confessed to accusing Richard of ignoring his children.”

  Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth laid her head on her husband’s chest. “Well if anyone would know, it would be Mary. She was ignored by our parents most of her life.”

  Darcy felt her weight against him a bit heavier than normal and, recognizing his wife’s fatigue, walked her back into her room. “You are not to think anymore of Richard, or the rest of the inhabitants of Pemberley, Elizabeth. You need your rest, my love. Lucinda is sleeping and so you should be.” He helped her remove her dressing gown, watched as she climb into the bed, and tucked the sheets about her. Looking down upon her as she settled back against the pillows, he smiled. “I have other news from your father which you may wish to hear.”

  Her eyes grew large with anticipation. “Yes? Has Mama settled on the date she will be leaving?”

  “They are to travel north to visit the Carters in two days’ time.”

  A look of relief settled about her features as her eyes drifted close, and Darcy laughed softly before bending to brush a kiss over her lips. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

  ***********

  Closing the nursery door behind her, Mary looked about. She had just spent an hour reading to the children and assisting their nurses. It was still morning, but Elizabeth was probably napping, Jane was most likely entertaining their mother, and their father would be found in the library as was his wont. After their earlier discussion, she did not desire further debate with her father. Perhaps a walk in the garden would be beneficial. She returned to her room and gathered her bonnet and pelisse before descending the stairs quietly.

  Once outside, she found the wind was blowing a bit harder than it appeared, and decided to walk about the sheltered rose garden instead of the larger, more diverse plots. As Mary looked over the blooms, enveloped in their heady scent, she considered her sisters and their spouses.

&nbs
p; Elizabeth and Darcy were clearly happy; little appeared to discomfit them, and they always turned to the other for any need. Mary sighed as she found a clean spot on a bench and sat down. She had reached the age of five and twenty, but had never met a man who affected her as passionately as Darcy did her sister. Not that she wished for such a thing. Mary had seen the heat in his gaze as he watched Elizabeth; it was fierce and demanding, and would be overwhelming to Mary’s own more demure nature.

  Her thoughts turned to the more subtle Bingleys. Charles had accompanied Jane when she first arrived at Pemberley, but returned to their home within a day or two. The easy distance between the estates made it a simple task for him to come and go as needed. Mary was certain their affection for each other was as deep as the Darcys’, but they did not display it in the same manner. There was a quiet contentment about them, one that was endearing to Jane’s and Charles’s comportment.

  Not sparing a moment on her youngest sister’s patched up marriage, Mary next thought of the sister closest to her in age, Catherine, or Kitty as they called her. Mary frequently visited her sister since Kitty married Longbourn’s curate, Mr. Upton, once he was made Rector in Meryton. Theirs was a relationship of deep respect and joy. Mary was amazed at Kitty’s transformation, and realized she herself was not as suited to life as a preacher’s wife as everyone had once believed. Though she loved to read and study, Mary did not converse easily with the parishioners. Kitty spoke with confidence no matter who she was addressing, and was able to learn of any needs within their community. Mary knew herself too well to believe she would have done as well in her sister’s position.

  So then, where do I belong? Life at Longbourn had become tedious. Without her sisters, the home echoed with either silence or Mrs. Bennet’s demands. Where once she had been allowed to follow her own path, Mary now was the centre of attention; something she once believed she desired, but had come to dislike. Her aunt and uncle in London had suggested she visit them but, aside from the theatre and shops, there was little there to draw her attention. No, only Mary’s nieces and nephews seemed to be able to draw her interest now.