flower.jpgChapter 28

Home to Longbourn, at last, after a few days’ respite at High Tor. I was glad wedding preparations were in full swing. They distracted me from thoughts of Felicity. Her absence was palpable. I tiptoed into the small chamber we’d used as her nursery, and to my surprise, someone had cleared it of all vestiges of her. Lydia couldn’t have taken everything, since she’d sneaked away in the night. Perhaps Mrs. Hill and Kitty packed up the rest, since the room had to be made ready for wedding guests.

Only one object remained. The silhouette I’d made of her, intact in its frame and still adorning the wall. As poor as it was, it resembled her to some degree, enough so that I had to hastily quit the room.

Mama had finally emerged from seclusion, persuaded no doubt by the pending nuptials. After I told the family about the meeting with Lydia, I think she felt comforted. “Captain Mason seems a good man,” I said, “and wields some influence over Lydia. And we could see she’d formed an attachment to Felicity.”

“I shall never see my darling girl again!” wailed my mother. “Or my granddaughter.”

“Perhaps not,” I said. “But she will write as soon as they’re settled, and you may write to her.”

With Kitty, I was more forthcoming, describing Lydia’s demeanor in more detail. She inhaled sharply when I told her of Lydia’s halfhearted expression of thanks.

“Was she cruel to you, Mary?”

“Not precisely. She accused me of committing all manner of injustices in regard to herself and Felicity. Of some, I was guilty, I freely admit. Captain Mason admonished her when she said something nasty about me while we were eating.”

“Well done of him! Exactly what she needs. Do you think he will be a good father to Felicity?”

“Of course there is no way to judge for a certainty, but he seemed affectionate with her and told me himself he’d become fond of her.” Wishing to change the subject, I said, “How have you managed here? This should be a time of great joy for you, yet you have been forced to deal with this crisis and Mama’s resulting hysterics. I am sorry for that.”

“Never mind. It was nothing compared to what you suffered.” She stopped to squeeze my hand. “My greatest pleasure of the past few weeks has been corresponding with Andrew. I cannot wait to remove from here to my own home.” And then she looked a little ashamed, upon realizing, I supposed, I was doomed to life at Longbourn.

“Are you happy, Kitty? Do you love Andrew?”

Her face glowed. “I do. I didn’t love him at the beginning. He grew on me! When I was fixed on attaching . . . a certain other gentleman, I viewed Andrew in an altogether different way. Not as handsome or as fine-figured a man as Henry Walsh. Now I think him the finest and handsomest man I have ever known!”

This statement sent us into whoops of laughter and caused Mama to peek her head in the door to see what we were up to. “I declare, it is good to hear laughter again in this house! We have all been in poor spirits since Lydia left us. Kitty, do show Mary all you have accomplished since she’s been from home.”

And so I was obliged, for an hour or so, to look at embroidered bed hangings, counterpanes, pillowslips, handkerchiefs, and the like. I did not mind, though, because my sister’s face shone with a quiet happiness and something very like contentment, which I’d rarely seen there before.

After many days had passed, I felt courageous enough to broach the subject of my future with my father. The library door was closed, so I rapped softly before entering.

“May I speak to you, Papa?” I said, thrusting my head around the door.

“Yes, of course, Mary. Come and be seated.”

He waited until I was settled, and then, to my surprise, started the conversation himself. “Tell me, what is your opinion of Andrew Carstairs?”

“I like him very much, sir. He is all that is amiable and has a good living in Steadly, which will allow Kitty to live quite close to Jane. I imagine they’ll see each other often.”

“Excellent. She seems happier than I’ve ever seen her before.”

I nodded. “I think so too. More than anyone else, Mr. Carstairs seems to have the ability to make her laugh. To banish that melancholy part of her nature.”

“Hmm. And I thought she was determined to catch Mr. Walsh. But I understand from Kitty and Mrs. Bennet it is you, Mary, who has an interest there.”

The familiar flush heated my neck and traced a path up to my face. What should I say? “Yes, Papa, your stupidest daughter had a chance to marry a wonderful man and ruined it”? “Perhaps at one time we had an interest in each other, but now we are merely friends. I wanted to speak to you about something else, Papa.”

He watched me closely for a moment before signaling for me to go on. “I would like a chance to do something with myself besides remain here at Longbourn. I have been contemplating asking my aunt and uncle Gardiner to help me find a governess position in town.”

I thought a look of shock flashed across his face, but it happened so fast I couldn’t be sure. “What brought this about?”

“I have given it much thought, sir. I don’t wish to be dependent on you—or my sisters—for the rest of my life. Therefore, I must earn some money of my own.”

“By all means, go on, Mary.” Now he seemed amused.

“Please understand I am serious about this, Papa! It is most likely I shall never marry, and I must plan for my future. When I think about remaining here at Longbourn, I feel a sense of . . . hopelessness. Of simply surrendering all control over my life to the wishes and needs of others.”

My father’s face seemed to droop before my very eyes, the whole of it slowly sliding downward. The deep grooves at each side of his mouth became more pronounced, and his chin tucked in and down. Even though I’d thought his expression one of amusement mere moments ago, now he looked as sad as I’d ever seen him, and it frightened me. The idea of my not wishing to stay at home must have wounded him.

“Papa! Are you all right?”

He recovered himself enough to insist he was quite well. “The family will oppose it, you know.”

I nodded. “Yes. I abhor the idea of causing them pain, but I think this is something I must do.” I reached my hand across the desk and he grasped it. “And you, Papa. What do you think?”

He let out a burst of laughter. “My dear child, I would much prefer you to find a good man to marry. I think you give up too easily. Even if Walsh is not up to it, you may meet other fellows. Burying yourself in town and spending most of your waking hours with children will not afford you much opportunity to meet eligible men.” He patted my hand before releasing it.

“Not all of us are meant to be married, sir.”

“That may be true, but I do not believe you are one of those. That view notwithstanding, if this is what would make you happy, by all means write to your aunt and seek her help. I cannot think of anybody in a better position to aid you in this.”

“Thank you, Papa! I shall do so directly. Perhaps she will have some news for me when she comes for the wedding.”

“I would caution you, my dear, to say nothing to either your mother or sisters until after the wedding. No reason to upset the whole household before the big day.”

“No, of course not. I would want Aunt Gardiner’s reassurance first, in any case. For all I know, she may decide helping me in this venture would not be in the best interests of the rest of the family.”

“Being a governess is no easy life, Mary. If in the future it seems assured you will never marry, I intend to give you your marriage portion. If teaching children is not all you hoped, you can depend on a little money, anyway.”

“Thank you, Papa. That is very generous of you. But only if you and my mother have no need of it.”

“It is yours by right, Mary. The other girls have gotten theirs. Why should you be deprived simply because you haven’t got a husband? In any case, you will have a greater need of it than they ever will.”

A corner of my mouth curved up. “True enough.”

We chatted of other things for a few minutes, and when a break in the conversation came, I rose and headed for my chamber, where I began a letter to my aunt.

Upon completion of my letter, I decided to walk to Meryton and post it. I stopped by Kitty’s chamber to see if she wanted to come with me. She was not there. Bandboxes filled with all the linens she’d been embroidering lay about the room, and a trunk with its lid flung back sat ready to receive her bride clothes. On her bed rested a piece of parchment, a letter from the looks of it, probably from Andrew. But no. Even from a distance, I could see the penmanship was Jane’s. Curious, I walked over and picked it up. An unwelcome dread took hold of me, but like a fool, I read it anyway.

High Tor

13 September

Kitty dear,

I need your advice—and possibly your intervention with Andrew—on a matter of some concern. It has recently come to our attention that Henry Walsh is showing serious interest in Miss Bellcourt, who resides not far from us. Tongues are wagging, and the gossips have it that he is soon to offer for her. Henry doesn’t speak of her, and Charles feels it would be the height of poor manners to pry into his personal life.

I have mentioned Miss B. to Mary before, but at that time, I believe they had only a passing acquaintance. I did so only to encourage Mary to come back to High Tor! I admitted as much to her upon her return. But this is different.

We saw him at a private dinner, where he was seated next to the lady at table. She’s quite lovely, has a great delicacy of behavior, and of course her fortune of £20,000 doesn’t hurt. The two seemed quite intent on their conversation, and spoke but little to others seated near them. But it is, of course, difficult to judge what two people feel for each other.

Lizzy says Mary confided a great deal to her on the ride from Bristol to High Tor. She does not believe HW loves her, and insists he has no intention of offering for her again. But there is a vast deal of difference between what one will share with a sister and what is in her own heart. Have you and Mary talked of this since she has been home?

Will you ask Andrew what he knows? Perhaps I ask too much. I am trying to decide what we should tell our sister. If there is no hope, if indeed HW has settled on Miss Bellcourt, I believe we should tell Mary before the wedding. However, if Andrew feels this is all rumor and innuendo, it is perhaps best to say nothing.

I await your response.

Yours, etc.,

Jane

Blindly, I stood, swaying a bit, my legs feeling as if they might give way. I replaced the letter approximately where I’d found it and fled the room. Ignoring the stabbing hurt in my chest, I decided to walk to Meryton alone, stopping only long enough to tell Mrs. Hill where I was going. I thought about asking if she knew where Kitty and my mother were, but what did it really matter?

So much for bragging to Elizabeth about my calm acceptance of a mere friendship with Henry. I felt a deep, wrenching pain, but to everybody else, I intended to appear unfazed. This outcome was, after all, what I had expected. Miss Bellcourt—even her name sounded elegant—no doubt encompassed all a man would want in a wife. Beauty, manners, fashion, and wealth. And all these attributes would make her an ideal mother to Amelia. I hoped she was kind and affectionate, and possessed a modicum of intelligence, too.

You had your chance with Henry Walsh, Mary, and you recklessly cast it aside. Now I would never have him. In truth, I didn’t deserve him. I walked faster, the sooner to post what now seemed a very urgent letter to my aunt.