An End to Estrangement - A Pride and Prejudice Variation

Part 23

When she played music, Mary was always quite unconscious of there being other people at home. Indeed, there might be no other people in the world, for all the notice she paid to them. She gave herself up completely to play, her fingers travelling nimbly over melodies she knew well, hesitating a little over those she did not. It was during her practice of one of these pieces, one that caused her to stop and start, to hover over notes and play them falteringly, that the sound of a cough reached her ears. She paused, glancing up in time to see a shadow hovering in the open doorway of the empty parlour Mary had claimed for her music room.

"Ah, Miss Mary!"

Mr Collins took the sudden ceasing of her playing as an invitation, pushing open the door and striding across the threshold into the parlour as if he had done it every day of his life.

"I am pleased to find you at home! It seems as if you are the only one of your sisters who could not be persuaded to go to Meryton today, in advance of the Lucas's dinner." He beamed. "Or perhaps you are quite content with your toilette and see no need of adding to it for an evening with friends."

Mary's eyes were wide. She was not sure a gentleman had ever addressed so many words to her at once. At least, there had been one gentleman, but the more she thought back to her evening with Mr Egerton, the more she persuaded herself that he spoke to her only because she was there. He would have been equally as attentive and friendly to any young lady - or gentleman, for that matter - who had found themselves fortunate enough to be seated in close proximity to him.

"Forgive me for interrupting your practice!" Mr Collins said, tiptoeing closer to the piano to peer over Mary's shoulder at the well-thumbed sheet music she had not been playing from. "You possess quite a talent," he murmured, reaching down to pick out a feeble little scale. "Ah. Hm. Yes. Well, I shall not keep you from your music very long. I merely wished to ask you. That is, to enquire...your sisters, Miss Mary."

Mary's eyebrows lifted in a silent question. Her lack of verbal response seemed to entirely discombobulate poor Mr Collins, though, who shifted his weight from one foot to the other, quite unable to put his thoughts into words.

"My sisters, Mr Collins?" Mary prompted him at last, wondering what had become of the man she had, until now, considered quite eloquent.

"I wonder at their all remaining unmarried," he hurried out, his eyes dancing around the room as if he was unsure quite where to look while he spoke. "That is, they are quite charming - you are quite charming, all of you. And yet Miss Jane, Miss Elizabeth..." He trailed off. "They are not married, nor engaged. Do they not have -" He swallowed painfully. "Suitors?"

Mary let out a breath she had not quite been conscious of holding. This was a far more manageable state of affairs. Of course, Mr Collins was himself unmarried. No doubt that had been at least part of his reason for coming to Longbourn, to begin with.

"There are no suitors that I am aware of," Mary began carefully, thinking that she could not confess that with an entirely clear conscience. She had never been a confidant to either Jane or Lizzy, and who knew what failed romances lay behind them, what heartaches their smiles and teasing concealed? "But Jane is, of course, not without her admirers."

"Yes," Mr Collins conceded, with a sorrowful little sigh. "Yes, I wondered if I had been alone in noting how attentive Mr Bingley was to her every whim the afternoon they came to call." He seemed to rally almost immediately. "But Elizabeth. I wonder, Miss Mary. You know her better than I could claim to. Perhaps you might be able to discover for me...that is, I would not wish to be presumptuous..."

His cheeks reddened and Mary felt a flare of sympathy. She, too, would struggle to speak of matters of the heart with someone who was, by and large, a stranger.

"You wish me to put in a good word for you?"

"Yes!" He beamed. "That is - no. Let us not put it quite so plainly as that." He winced. "Merely...I wonder if I could entrust to you the task of discovering whether she might be amenable...were I to...that is, if there was the possibility of..."

"Mary! Ah, here you are - oh, William!"

Mr Bennet had made his way from his own study to the parlour without pausing to lift his eyes from the pages of a book, so much distracted that he almost collided with Mr Collins, who darted a few steps away from the piano at the sound of his cousin's approach.

"You sought to determine the source of the beautiful music that haunted Longbourn this afternoon as well, no doubt, Mr Bennet!" Mr Collins laughed, a brackish, awkward sound that deceived no-one and merely forced Mr Bennet to look by turns curious and concerned between Mr Collins and Mary.

"Oh, were you playing?" he asked, turning back to his book.

"Yes, Papa," Mary said, wearily. Disappointment pricked uncomfortably in her chest. She did not play for accolades, nor should she be surprised that her father did not notice when she did, but she could not help but feel a little disillusioned that even now, with all his other daughters gone, Mr Bennet could not seem to spare even a little notice for her one talent.

"She was playing very well," Mr Collins said, stoutly. "Quite the finest performance I have heard since arriving in Hertfordshire."

Mary coloured at this unexpected praise and glanced up in surprise, her smile never fully settling before Mr Bennet squashed it completely.

"Well, that is hardly any great compliment, William. You have been in Hertfordshire but a matter of days and scarcely stepped foot beyond the boundaries of Longbourn. Mary, dear, I wondered if I might ask you to take down a few words of dictation for me. I would ordinarily ask Elizabeth, but as she is out I must make do with you."

When Mary did not respond immediately, he was forced to lift his nose from his book once more to smile, vaguely at her.

"Of course, if you are busy, it can wait..."

"No, Papa," Mary said, meekly getting to her feet and slipping past Mr Collins to the doorway. Silently, swallowing any objection, she followed her father back to his study.