The Beginning of Hope

Part 11

It was not an uncommon occurrence for Mary to be the first of the Bennet sisters awake of a morning, and the morning of the Egerton's dinner was no such exception. The entire house slumbered late into the morning and Mary crept from one room to the next, fearful of waking her sisters and equally rejoicing at the opportunity to sit and think over the promised treat alone and in silence.

Today she would see Mr Egerton again! Not only that, but she would see his estate. She had heard mention of it before, but never yet visited Trenholme, its previous owners being of a reclusive nature and never seeing any cause to associate beyond the bare minimum with other families residing near Meryton.

She cared little for the estate, though, for no matter how vast and beautiful it was, seeing it could not compare with the opportunity to see her friends again. It was a rarity for Mary to feel as if she was the key cause for their family being invited anywhere. She was not beautiful like Jane, nor clever like Lizzy, and she did not even possess the excitability of Kitty and Lydia that lent such energy to a gathering. She had never been singled out for praise or had her particular presence requested, except when she could perform some service, such as playing the piano so that other people might dance.

The tiniest of frowns creased her forehead. Of course, Sally had intimated that she wished to hear Mary play herself, and no doubt she would be pressed into providing just such a service that evening, but she dared to hope that that was not the only, nor even the most important, reason she had been invited. No, Sally Egerton invited her because she thought of her as a friend. Mary had not forgotten the eager way she clutched her arm at Lucas Lodge, the way she had chattered and smiled and laughed and acted as if she and Mary were the very best of friends and not mere acquaintances meeting formally for the very first time.

And it would certainly be a lie if Mary did not admit to feeling a slight excitement at the thought of seeing Mr Egerton again. She would never admit as much to anyone else, but in the quiet and privacy of her own mind, she could admit it freely. She wished to see Mr Egerton again. To hear more of his amusing commentary and to do all she could to ease the plight of loneliness and isolation he must feel on account of his infirmity. Her heart ached for him, for whilst she could imagine no great hardship by being kept often inside, she could only imagine the sacrifices he had been forced to make as an energetic young man. She made up her mind a second time that she would happily play music all evening if he might wish her to, and crept into the parlour to sort through her sheet music, tugging a shawl over her shoulder to ward off the early morning chill.

"Mary!"

She was so startled by the accusatory whisper of her sister that she dropped the bundle of sheet music she had been holding, scattering it across the floor. She spun towards the doorway with an accusatory glare.

"Sorry!" Lizzy shot her a wry smile. She tiptoed towards her and dropped to help Mary gather up the sheets, glancing down at it as she did so. "Were you planning a rousing march to wake the household?"

"I was just familiarising myself with some pieces," Mary said, defensively snatching the last of her sheets from Elizabeth's grasp. "For this evening."

"Ah."

Braced for teasing, it rather surprised Mary when it did not come, and she risked a glance at Elizabeth, even more surprised to see a look of interested sympathy on her sister's face.

"Sally Egerton had asked me to play for them one evening," Mary began, wondering why she felt the need to justify herself yet unable to keep the words from tumbling out. "And I thought it only wise to have some idea of what I could play that might be appreciated. After all, they have been so kind as to invite us, and -"

"I am sure whatever you play will be just right," Elizabeth said, patting her warmly on the arm. She rose and made her way further into the room, selecting an empty chair by the fireplace and folding herself into it. She glared at the fire as if willing it to spark a little more heroically into life, but it was early still and the flames were but little.

"What brings you here so early?" Mary asked, shuffling the sheet music back into a clumsy pile and placing it carefully back where she had found it. She was in no mood to continue with her task with Elizabeth watching her, and she felt a strange curiosity to discover what was behind her sister's sudden appearance. She cannot be as restless as I am, surely? She crept a little closer, selecting the chair closest to Elizabeth and perching on its edge. "I hope I did not wake you?"

"Wake me?" Elizabeth shook her head, fiercely. "No, no. I was awake ages ago." She paused, as if poised to say more, but, thinking better of it, shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "I was too restless to stay in bed and came down in search of my book."

"And...did you find it?" Mary raised her eyebrows, silently alerting her sister to the fact that she had no book in her hand. Her gaze swept the room, but she did not see it there, either.

"Find what?"

"Your book." Mary's frown darkened. It was unlike Elizabeth to be so distracted. Her excuse was a fabrication, but one she could not even cling to for more than a moment.

"Lizzy, is something the matter? You can tell me, you know. I shall keep it a secret. I am - I am good at keeping secrets."

What Mary meant was, nobody is likely to demand the truth of me, nobody cares to enquire whether I have any secrets worth sharing, but to give voice to either of these thoughts was to be remarkably self-pitying and Mary was not prone to self-pity. Her lot was her lot, and she would accept it with grace. In any case, she would much rather be invisible and overlooked than to receive too much attention. She could never understand Lydia's perpetual desire to court scandal.

"You are, aren't you?" Elizabeth said, turning to look at her as if she was seeing her for the very first time. "You certainly seem to be keeping one of your own. No, do not deny it. You can't very well expect me to open up my heart to you if you are unwilling to do the same." Elizabeth's eyes sparkled with fun, but her face was kind. Mary found herself returning her sister's smile, her breath easing for the first time since Elizabeth had discovered her.

"I have no secrets," Mary said, unable to prevent the blood from rushing to her cheeks and knowing that observant Elizabeth was certain to notice it. "That is, I have nothing worthy of confiding in anyone."

"Yet," Elizabeth said, reaching out to brush a loose curl behind Mary's ear. It was a tender, affectionate gesture, probably the first such that had ever passed between the two sisters, and Mary wondered if Elizabeth had momentarily forgotten that it was Mary, not Jane, who sat beside her. Her fears were put to rest when Elizabeth spoke again, a strange melancholy giving her usually merry voice gravity.

"You must not close yourself off from the possibility of happiness, Mary. You are as deserving of it as any of us. More, even!"

Mary's smile grew, touched by this unexpected kindness and eager to return it.

"As are you, Lizzy. I know everyone is all absorbed with Jane's future happiness with Mr Bingley, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if you have not caught the eye of his friend!"

She was teasing, although there was a note of truth to her words. Had she not observed how unable Mr Darcy had been to keep his gaze from straying to Elizabeth whenever they chanced to be in the same room? Surely Elizabeth had also noticed and even if she did not care for Mr Darcy herself it must be pleasing to have won the admiration of such a handsome, well-respected gentleman. Why, then, did Mary's words make Lizzy's features fall?

"I do not think so," she said, quietly, and Mary bitterly regretted her comment, fearing she had touched some nerve she had not realised was exposed. "I am quite sure Mr Darcy does not think of me at all!"