Page 80 of A Different Impression

It did not explain why he had appeared indifferent to her. She had not invited her mother, loaded the trunks, or delayed the journey. Yet her father had once again allowed his displeasure with his wife to determine how he treated everyone else.

“He has been out of sorts for the entire journey,” Mary continued. “I believe dealing with Mama disturbed him more than he expected. He has grown accustomed to the quiet at Longbourn since she went to the dower house.”

“How has he occupied himself?” Elizabeth enquired.

Mary hesitated. “Mostly in his library.”

A familiar unease settled over Elizabeth. “And the estate?”

“Mr Harris and I attend to most matters. The improvements have increased the estate’s profits, and I continue to consult you, William, and Aunt Gardiner whenever I am uncertain. Papa occasionally offers advice, but he has lost much of the interest he displayed in the autumn.”

Elizabeth studied her sister more carefully. “How much responsibility has fallen upon you?”

“Someone must attend to it,” Mary replied with a nonchalant shrug that did nothing to reassure Elizabeth. “Papa prefers not to be bothered unless a decision cannot be made without him.”

The words struck Elizabeth painfully. She recognised the arrangement all too well. For years, she had attempted to compensate for her father’s indifference, providing the companionship he did not seek from his wife whilst pleading with him to attend to his family and estate. Now that Elizabeth was no longer available, Mary had taken her place—useful when he wanted conversation and responsible for everything he preferred to ignore.

“And what do you want?” Elizabeth asked.

Mary blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to manage Longbourn and devote your life to keeping Papa comfortable? Or have you merely accepted the work because no one else will perform it?”

For several moments, Mary did not answer.

In an attempt to ease whatever concern her sister may have had at that moment, Elizabeth took her hand. “You are welcome here for as long as you wish. Papa’s comfort need not determine the course of your life.”

Mary gave her a faint, uncertain smile, and Elizabeth’s concern deepened. Her father’s indifference still wounded her, but she was no longer the daughter most endangered by it. If Mr Bennet had simply transferred the burdens Elizabeth once carried onto Mary, then his brief improvement had changed far less than she had hoped.

Beside Elizabeth, William’s expression grew grave. They had discussed her concerns about Longbourn several times, and the tone of Mary’s recent letters had already led Elizabeth to suspect that her father’s renewed interest in the estate was fading.

William’s jaw tightened, and his gaze shifted briefly towards the staircase her father had ascended. Elizabeth recognised the signs of his displeasure and suspected that he did not intend to allow either her father’s indolence or his treatment of her to pass unchallenged. The prospect of such a confrontation filled her with equal measures of gratitude and unease.

When they entered the drawing room, Mary greeted everyone before her attention settled uncertainly upon Anne. William introduced Anne to Mary, and the two spoke briefly before the conversation turned towards Mary’s journey and the entertainments the household had attended during the preceding weeks.

As Jane and Kitty described the theatre and opera, Elizabeth noticed a wistful expression cross Mary’s face.

“Lizzy,” Mary began hesitantly, “do you think I might stay for a few weeks rather than returning immediately to Longbourn with Papa? I find myself wishing that I might attend some of these entertainments—at least the theatre and opera. I care little for balls or dinner parties, but I should like to see some of the performances my sisters have described.”

Pleasure warmed Elizabeth. “I would love to have you stay. We shall probably depart for Pemberley before long and could return you to Longbourn on our way. I do not yet know whether Jane intends to accompany us, but you would also be welcome at Pemberley if you wished to come.”

Mary’s expression brightened before uncertainty crept back into it. She looked down at her clasped hands.

“I had thought I might remain only until you leave Town. Yet I am not certain who would assist Papa with Longbourn during my absence. Jane has told me that Mr Bingley has returned and is again paying her considerable attention, so perhaps she will soon have plans of her own. Kitty is staying with you, and Lydia remains at school. Papa would be alone if I remained here.”

“He would not be alone,” Elizabeth pointed out. “He has the servants and the steward.”

“Mrs Hill can oversee the household, and Mr Harris manages most ordinary estate matters,” Mary acknowledged. “But whenever a decision is required, Papa leaves it to me. If I am not there, I fear he will simply allow everything to wait until I return.”

Elizabeth’s heart sank. Mary had finally expressed something she wanted for herself, yet even that modest pleasure was being weighed against their father’s convenience. It was painfully familiar.

“Then perhaps Papa ought to discover what occurs when you are not there to perform his responsibilities for him,” Elizabeth said gently.

Mary gave a startled laugh. “I do not believe he would appreciate the lesson.”

“That does not mean he has no need of it,” Elizabeth said, but then she allowed her sister the quiet she needed to consider her options.

For a long moment, Elizabeth watched as Mary kept her gaze lowered, longing and uncertainty seeming to war across her face.