An End to Estrangement - A Pride and Prejudice Variation

Part 7

"Your sister is the tall one, with the dark hair?"

"Is she wearing a blue dress?"

Mary glanced sidewards at Mr Egerton, who seemed somehow to sense her surprise, his lips lifting a little at the corner.

"I assure you, Miss Mary, if you had been forced to listen to her rhapsodising over its finer qualities, you, too, would be only too able to describe that dress from memory." He shook his head in mock despair. "I need not have seen it to be able to describe it perfectly. Yes, the young lady you describe sounds like my sister. I am glad she is dancing and not hovering over me."

Mary bit her lip. Was that what she was doing? She had not intended to talk to her neighbour at all, and after their clumsy introduction had made even more of a mental note to leave the poor man be, and allow him to enjoy the music in silence. Somehow, though, she had found observation after observation tripping lightly from her lips and had found Mr Egerton only too eager a companion, bidding her describe each of her sisters in turn, before seeing if she might locate his, on description alone.

"She must care for you a great deal," Mary ventured, vowing to draw their conversation to a close lest she be accused of hovering or otherwise found guilty of causing some insult to the gentleman beside her without meaning to.

"She cares for me a good deal better than I deserve, you mean. No, Miss Mary, you must not temper your words around me. Too many people do." He affected a grim smile. "Poor blind Egerton has lost his sensibility as well as his sight and must be forever treated as if he were made of glass. In truth, I am surprised you dare to speak to me at all and must offer you my deepest thanks."

Mary's breath caught at the genuineness of his words, and she found it took her a moment or two to formulate a response.

"I fear my constant narration is an irritation to you, Mr Egerton."

"Not at all!" he said, quickly. "Only - I do not like you to feel obliged to do so. Surely you would like to dance?"

"Oh...no," Mary swallowed. "I have no talent for dancing, and I do not suppose anybody would care to ask me. I am quite happy here."

Uttering the words aloud made it clear to her just how content she was. Seated in that particular corner, she was afforded a fair view of the dancers and could admire their graceful movements without fear of being noticed. The music, too, sounded well, and quite unconsciously she found herself humming along in tune with the current piece.

"Ah, you prefer to play music than dance to it," Egerton observed, folding his hands in his lap. "An admirable skill, for where would any of us be without music?"

Mary glanced at him, feeling certain that he was teasing her, but she saw a strange, clouded expression cross his face instead and was surprised to acknowledge he was quite serious in his words.

"I confess I never gave it much thought before now. Poor Sally is not musical, and I never saw much use for it, save as a vehicle for dancing." His voice grew soft, wistful, and he sighed. "My opinion is rather different now. When one is not afforded the opportunity to partake of the tasks one once enjoyed, one finds appreciation for the simple delights one previously overlooked."

"I hope you have someone to play for you, then," Mary said, eager to steer the conversation back to steadier, cheerier ground and not risk poor Mr Egerton straying any closer to melancholy.

"Are you planning to perform?"

"No! Not at all. That is -" Mary stammered, before she heard a low rumble of laughter from her companion and realised he was teasing her.