Mary bit her lip in amusement when she happened by ten minutes afterwards. Lady Catherine and Mrs. Bennet were drinking mulled cider and enjoying a shared dislike of birdsong. Mrs. Bennet was describing how much it affected her nerves, and Lady Catherine was advising her on the things she must do to warn away the birds, because in her experience... and so on. In their animation they were completely oblivious to the fact that Georgiana had fallen fast asleep.
Mary sat beside her friend and carefully took her hand.
"Oh! Mary." Georgiana burbled, opening her eyes with a gasp. "I… I was…!”
"I think that weddings are the only time I actually enjoy myself." Mary said, not missing a beat. "By the time the ceremony is over, everyone is too relieved to care what happens to the rest of us. All eyes are on dear Jane today. You and I can fade away."
Georgiana smiled but, with a nervous glance at her aunt, said: “I should not... fade. It is good to... to be present."
Mary sighed and patted Georgiana's hand. “I shall not argue, for all that I disagree. I know that we are not alike. My preferences are many women's punishment!"
Georgiana thought of her next words carefully. She generally did so; speaking was much easier now, but every word was still a foe, fighting her instead of coming obligingly to her stumbling tongue.
" Mary… at your wedding, will you feel so... so punished?"
"My wedding will not be for a long time. I dare say I shall make peace with it all by then." Mary smiled easily, as if she was unconcerned by the delay.
Georgiana squeezed her hand, not fooled for a second.
Mr. Bennet's stubborn will could not be swayed. His heart had softened towards his daughters, but his resolve was like iron. It seemed as if the strength that drained from his body was flowing right into his mind.
He had grown to tolerate Colonel Fitzwilliam. One day, he ever admitted that he enjoyed his company! But he still thought him most unsuitable for Mary.
The middle Miss Bennet did not help matters when she arrived at Longbourn. The diffident mask she protected herself with made her look utterly unconcerned about the proposal, whichever way it went. Mary was unashamedly hiding her true feelings beneath a rock-solid mask. She had the pessimist’s outlook: if you are foolish enough hope, you will be more disappointed when things fail.
Mr. Bennet did not know Mary well enough to recognise her mask. He only believed in what he could see.
Elizabeth knew how to speak to her father, but even if she had spent the autumn in Meryton, she did not think she could have changed anything. Like Jane, she agreed with their father. Theengagement was shockingly hasty, and her sister seemed utterly unlike the colonel in every respect.
Still, she could tell that they loved each other, for the present.
Fitzwilliam would not fall out of Mary's favour for the want of a few months, or even years. She loved him deeply, in her peculiar, blunt manner. Mary, however, had no reason to think that Fitzwilliam would still care for her after such a delay. She had been the first to scold him for being so impetuous - and Mary did so like to be proven right.
If Fitzwilliam took back his offer, then it would be terrible, but at least Mary Forever-Bennet could say: “I told you so".
Mary also felt no obligation to dance with Fitzwilliam at the wedding, which she might have felt necessary if they were engaged. The family were rather keen to avoid any notion of impropriety from now on, understandably. Mary disliked social customs, but she saw their value. While she was nominally un-attached, she could behave as she always had.
Her behaviour ought to have hurt Fitzwilliam. It was a mark of his great love for her that it only amused him. Mary's belief in his inconstancy was taken as a challenge, not an insult. He had to prove himself, he declared, like Sir Galahad! Mary rolled her eyes at this but was most gratified by the way Fitzwilliam went about his 'quest'.
He did not ignore other women by any means, but treated them with playful respect instead of flirting. He still played at cards and gambled on dogs and horses, but not to excess. He was polite and generous, easy to speak to and difficult to offend. In every way, he was a gentleman.
One day Mr. Bennet drawled, with wry respect in his voice, "If he can keep that act up until Easter then he can have Kitty, too."
The shocking hint of polygamy was enough to send Kitty from the room in giggling hysterics, followed by a cackling Lydia. For the first and only time in her life, Mary remained and looked her father straight in the eyes.
"It is not an 'act', papa."
"Is it not?" He looked back at her, then beckoned her closer so he could pat her hand. He was so frail that she barely felt the pressure, only the papery feel of his dry skin. "I truly hope he is sincere, Mary, for your sake. If he is, then he will make you very happy. And you will surely make him regret it!"
"Oh no, father." she replied seriously, “Fitzwilliam will never regret anything he does out oflove. Only the things he does out of pure idiocy."
Mr. Bennet stifled a laugh beneath a cough. "Are there many such things?"
"Countless."
"Then you shall never be idle, my girl. You always preferred that, I suppose. Well, good - good, you shall be content."
That was as close as they had gotten to a blessing, so far. It was enough to give Fitzwilliam hope, and Mary dull resignation.
