“Ah,” was the only reply he could manage.
“Amelia!” Mary’s voice broke in. “How nice you have come to visit. I am sorry I was not here when you arrived. I hope Papa is not boring you with estate affairs. Do you wish for some tea?” She moved into the room and saw the remains on the table. “Oh, I see Papa has anticipated me.”
Amelia smiled and moved to stand next to Mary. “Yes, he was kind enough to offer me refreshments although I only came here to invite you all to dinner now that the parsonage improvements are finished.”
“How delightful. Papa, did you accept?”
“Yes, Mary. We are expected this Thursday.”
“Well, I must be going,” Amelia said. “I have taken far too much of your time as it is. Robert and I look forward to dining with you in our beautifully refurbished home.”
“May I walk with you back to the parsonage?” asked Mary. “Then we can catch up; we have not seen each other in many days.”
“That would be lovely.” Amelia turned to Mr. Bennet and inclined her head, but not quite meeting his eyes, he noticed. “Thank you again for the loan of the poetry book, sir.” She picked up her reticule, tucked her arm through Mary’s and practically pulled her from the study.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Withers,” called Mr. Bennet after them.
When he was alone, he returned to his desk and collapsed in his chair. His mind was spinning. What was happening? How could he be having feelings for another woman so soon? Why, he had only been a widower a little over two months! The better part of a year of his mourning remained; he could not be so forward. He must find a way to check his behavior. It would not do to go mooning about and have it noticed by anyone. He felt a surge of envy for Mary—already on a first name basis with Mrs. Withers.
“Amelia,” he said softly to himself.
“Beg pardon, sir?”
A voice gave him a start, and he jerked his head to see Mrs. Hill waiting at the door. He stared at her blankly.
“I have come to clear the tea things,” she said.
“Yes, yes, of course. Go right ahead. Thank you, Hill.” Mr. Bennet busied himself with his ledger and tried to keep his thoughts on what was now in front of him instead of the lady who had recently departed.
Chapter 11
One month later, Mr. Bennet dispatched Mrs. Hill to bring Mary and Kitty to his study. They came at once, wondering whether they had done something to displease their father. Were they to be reprimanded? Mary was especially curious. Lately, her father had been unusually kind and seemed somewhat interested in her. He had given her two books to read and then had asked her to sit and discuss them with him! While she was unsure of his reason for taking the trouble, it was not unpleasant to be so singled out. However, she was only partway through the latest text he had loaned her, so it could not be that. She and Kitty stood patiently until he finally cleared his throat and spoke.
“Girls, I am in need of your assistance. It has now been three months since your mother died, and I believe the time has come for us to deal with some of her possessions. I have already given a couple of day dresses to Mrs. Hill as they were about the same size. If it would please either of you to take one or two of her fancier gowns and have them cut down or reworked for you, I shall gladly pay for the alterations.”
Mary protested. “But, Papa, we cannot wear anything but black until the New Year—or at least mid-December—and even though our deep mourning period ends then, we should still show respect by dressing somberly.”
Her sister rolled her eyes. “You may wish to dress in such a manner, but believe me: when our six months is up, I plan to be a veritable peacock!”
“But poor Papa must continue his mourning until nearly next June. Should we not show him support?”
Kitty opened her mouth to retort, but Mr. Bennet interrupted. “Do not fret, Mary. It would cheer me considerably to see both of you in brighter colors in another three months, even as I continue on in black and grey. I was not suggesting you wear your mother’s reworked gowns yet. Just…please go through her wardrobe and do what you think best with them.”
“Lydia might like a few things,” Kitty said thoughtfully. “She wrote me just last week, complaining of not having any money to spend on new gowns for the upcoming assemblies.”
“That is a fine idea, Kitty. Choose one or two to send to her, and I shall include the funds to alter them.” He pulled open a side drawer of his desk and brought out a smallish, wooden jewelry case. Mary gasped, recognizing it as the one from her mother’s dressing room.
“Now,” Mr. Bennet continued, “your mother did not have much jewelry, but it does no one any good sitting in this box. I have already chosen two small pieces to send to Jane and Lizzy; they already have been gifted with far finer stuff from their husbands, so they will want your mother’s jewelry only for sentiment’s sake.” He lifted the lid and pulled out a short necklace of small garnets spaced along a delicate gold chain. “What of this? It is one of your mother’s finer pieces. Do either of you wish to have it?”
“I should like it, Papa,” Mary blurted before Kitty could respond. It would go perfectly with her new gown, now hidden upstairs in her closet, waiting for the six-month mourning period to end.
“Very well.” He handed it to her then chose a cross of four topaz stones dangling from a gold chain. “This was another one of her better pieces. You should have this then, Kitty.”
She took it, brushing a tear from her eye as she murmured her thanks.
“As for Lydia. I greatly fear anything of great value I send to her will soon be pawned by either her or her worthless husband. What do you say to this?” He held up a small but pretty cameo brooch. “It is not a costly piece, which is why your mother seldom wore it. It was an engagement gift from me, actually.”
Kitty and Mary exchanged a glance, then nodded their approval. The rest of the pieces were easily divided between the girls—three apiece—with little disagreement over them. At last, one bracelet remained. Mr. Bennet caressed the thick, gold hoop with delicate engraved scrollwork, and a smile came over his face.
