An End to Estrangement - A Pride and Prejudice Variation

Part 11

Ordinarily, being cooped up indoors for a third consecutive day of rain would make anyone a little fractious. It was a surprise, then, that all five Bennet sisters were sitting quite contentedly in the Longbourn parlour with their Mama one afternoon, each one occupied and absorbed and with very little in the way of bickering.

Elizabeth was perched in the window, ostensibly making the most of the feeble grey light in order that she might read, but in actuality staring out at the rain, her thoughts far away from the adventures of Evelina and her Mama.

Was her reunion with Darcy really only to be as short-lived as one dance? It seemed peculiarly unkind that Providence should work to weave their paths together again for the sake of one evening - yet how could she expect any more? She had never seen such anger in his eyes, and to feel it fixed on her was mortifying. Evidently, he did not care for her now. He could not, if he ever had. Perhaps their connection had meant more to her than it ever had to him, and seeing her again was merely an irritation, nothing more. She lifted her chin, telling herself she did not mind it. I have lived perfectly well without Fitzwilliam Darcy all these years, I shall go on without him just as easily! The words sounded hollow even in the confines of her own mind, and she dropped her gaze to her book, determined to concentrate on the page in front of her and no longer permit her thoughts to wander wherever they chose. They seemed only to care for torturing her, and she would surrender to them no longer.

"Mary!" Lydia's shrill voice echoed across the parlour. "Can you not play anything a little more cheery?"

Mary sighed but obediently shifted her tempo to something more pleasing to Lydia's fun-loving ears. It was this change that made Lizzy realise she had been playing at all, a haunting melody that sounded strangely familiar to her. Closing her book, she slid lightly off her seat beside the window and tiptoed across to the piano, glancing up at the rest of her family, who were all sitting comfortably around the blazing fire, to ensure she and Mary would not be overheard.

"Would you like an assistant?" Lizzy asked.

Mary continued to play but did at least look up at her, her face folding in confusion.

"I can turn pages, just do not ask me to play anything, for I shall surely ruin your performance." Lizzy chuckled, and when Mary obediently slid along the piano bench, she perched carefully on the end.

"I do not need anything," Mary said, nodding to the empty shelf before her. She played from memory, which feat stunned Lizzy all the more. "Lydia's simple jigs are not difficult, and she has requested I play them so often I imagine I could do it in my sleep."

Mary pulled a face and Elizabeth choked back a laugh, surprised to see such a droll expression from her usually serious sister. She sat in silence, watching as Mary's dainty hands travelled up and down the keys.

"Mary, what was that piece you were playing just now?" she asked, as one tune gave way to another. Mary named the jig, misunderstanding the question, and Lizzy was forced to repeat it.

"No, I mean before that. The less cheery piece." She mimicked Lydia and now it was Mary's turn to laugh. Lizzy knew she ought not to mock one sister in front of another, and on any other afternoon it would be a strange circumstance to find herself siding with Mary against the others, but just today she felt as if Mary was the one sister of all of them who might understand her plight. Lizzy frowned, surprised by this acknowledgement, and turning it over in her mind. She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts she scarcely noticed the deep shade of pink that crept into Mary's cheeks.

"It was nothing," she murmured, fumbling a chord, and biting down hard on her lip while she struggled to recover her pace. "I was trying to recall something I first heard at the assembly."

"When you were sitting with Mr Egerton." Lizzy had spoken her thought aloud, not meaning to afford any significance to it, yet somehow Mary leapt on it, ending the piece abruptly and turning to Elizabeth.

"What do you mean? I only happened to sit next to him. It is hardly my fault if he chose to speak to me. And in any case, I liked the piece. Am I not permitted to play music because I choose to, or because I happen to enjoy it? Must it always be at other people's request?"

"Mary!" Elizabeth's mouth had fallen open at this chastisement, and she laid a placating hand on Mary's thin shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. I merely...I wondered...I thought I recognised the piece, but could not place it."

"Oh, Mary! Why did you stop? We were so enjoying your playing..." Mrs Bennet's voice took on a plaintive edge and obediently Mary turned back to the piano and began the last jig over, albeit a little more rigidly than usual, as if it took a great deal of concentration, when she had only moments before denied such a thing.

Elizabeth frowned, surveying her sister out of the corner of her eye. Mary seemed so out of sorts this afternoon. What could have compelled her to react with such agitation to a simple observation? Did she really expect Lizzy to tease her for spending the evening speaking to a poor blind gentleman? Indeed, if Lizzy had anything to say on the matter it would be to compliment her for her kindness. She was not sure she could ever recall Mary speaking to a gentleman, willingly or otherwise!

The door to the parlour opened and Mr Bennet stepped in. This ought to be enough to brighten everybody's spirits, Lizzy thought, turning to smile at her father, who scanned the room with a nervous glance, before turning and walking back through the door to the hallway. This peculiar dance was repeated a second time, and on the third, Lizzy called out to him.

"Papa! Is something the matter? Why not come and join us for a moment?"

"Yes..." Mr Bennet's brow wrinkled, but he did obediently step fully into the room. His thinning hair was tangled as if he had been worrying it with his hands, and a dark sense of foreboding stole over Lizzy's heart.

"Is something the matter, Papa?" she asked, forsaking her seat beside Mary that she might reach her father's side, and lay a comforting hand on his arm. "Are you quite well?"

"Well?" Mr Bennet blinked at her. "Oh, yes, yes indeed. That is, I am a little distracted."

He smiled, but the expression vanished again almost as soon as he had summoned it. "My dears, I have some interesting news to share!"

Interesting was description enough to give Lizzy pause and she did not immediately beam at her father, as did her sisters. Even Mary stopped playing, folding her hands carefully in her lap and attending to whatever it was Mr Bennet was about to announce.

"I received a letter - that is, I have lately been exchanging letters with the son of my cousin. You recall, dear -" Here, he looked fleetingly at his wife. "My poor cousin's untimely demise last winter?"

Mrs Bennet nodded but said nothing in a remarkable display of self-control. Evidently, her eagerness to hear her husband's declaration outweighed her desire to have her own thoughts heard.

"Well, you need not know all the details. In short, he has decided he wishes to visit us." He glanced at the elegant clock that chose that precipitous moment to chime. "And he will be arriving in a few hours."