Chapter Text
Elizabeth Darcy was not a woman who considered herself easily shocked when it came to matters involving her sisters. She felt that a distinction hard earned, given the sorrows and scandals that had befallen the Bennet family during the tumultuous year which had resulted in the marriages of two sisters, not to mention her own union with Fitzwilliam Darcy. That Kitty had wed Mr. Buncock had pleased rather than confounded Lizzy; without their youngest sister’s influence, it had seemed only logical that Kitty would develop into a genteel woman capable of securing a prudent, if not happy, match with the clergyman. That Lydia behaved more and more like their mother with each passing day, a fact only confirmed when observing them side by side during Mrs. Bennet’s "convalescence" from a mysterious illness, was similarly unremarkable.
Yet somehow, Mary had managed to surprise her several times in just a matter of weeks.
First, with the appearance of Mr. Ryder at Pemberley (who, despite his good looks, charm, and distant connection to her own esteemed Darcy, was nonetheless in Lizzy’s opinion no more than a cad).
Next, with the conversation in which Mary had described the gulf of respect that existed between herself and the rest of the Bennet family (which, painful as it was, did indeed help Lizzy to understand her younger sister better - and would hopefully help Lizzy to be a better sister, in turn).
Then, with Mary’s decision to defy their mother’s wishes, choosing instead to accept the Gardiners’ invitation to travel to the Lakes, and from there to return to London (which had surprised Lizzy only to the extent that it had required less prompting than she had expected).
However, nothing seemed to surprise Elizabeth Darcy more than when, upon her mother’s return to Pemberley from town, she saw Mary Bennet alighting from the carriage as well.
“Mary!” she cried, rushing forward to embrace her sister. “What on earth are you doing here? Is all well? Did something happen with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner?”
Mrs. Bennet rolled her eyes in disdain. “I see no reason for you to question your sister so,” she huffed. “Mary has barely spoken two words the entire journey. You will not have any more success in accounting for her poor companionship than I have. Now where is Susan? I long to see the Duchess. Susan!” Gathering her skirts, Mrs. Bennet brushed past her daughters and into the house.
Lizzy released Mary from her embrace, looking into her eyes. “Something is wrong, isn’t there? You are always welcome here, Mary - you must know that. But you love London! I cannot think that you have been anxious to return to Pemberley so soon after making your escape.”
Mary sighed. “No, I have not,” she admitted. “Indeed, I believe regret set in the moment we left Gracechurch Street, and it’s unlikely to dissipate in the near future…or distant, for that matter.”
“Then what has happened?”
Mary surprised her yet again – when she began to cry.
“Oh, my dearest,” Lizzy said, embracing her once more. “All will be well, I promise you. Come, let us take a turn in the garden. I’m certain you will want some fresh air after being cooped up in the carriage with Mama for so long.”
Mary laughed despite the tears. “Yes, I think that would be wise.”
“And then, you could tell me about what distresses you so? I am here for you, Mary. Perhaps not always as I should have been. But you do not need to be so strong if you do not wish to.”
Mary looked up at her hesitantly. “There is…much to tell.”
Lizzy looked right back at her. “I am ready to listen.”
At length, Lizzy came to learn the entire story.
About Mary’s life in London. About the unexpected joy Mary had found in governessing, and in her company with the Gardiners.
About Mary’s acquaintance with Mr. Hayward, and the many kindnesses he had extended to her during her time in London. About Miss Baxter, and their friendship. About Mr. Ryder, and the way they had challenged and amused each other.
Then, about their journey to the Lakes. About the ending of one understanding, and the potential blossoming of another. About the unexpected attention of not one, but two suitors. About Mary’s hopes - how they had risen the further they ascended Scafell Pike, and how they had been dashed at the summit. About their descent through a storm, and the fever that had followed.
About Mr. Hayward’s departure.
About his prolonged absence from London.
And finally, about Mr. Ryder’s proposal, and Mary’s refusal.
“What do you think, Lizzy?” Mary cast an uncertain glance at her, as if anticipating some kind of reproof. Lizzy’s heart broke a little at the thought. It pained her to think of how long her sister had carried the weight of her feelings without a confidant to help lighten the load.
Lizzy wrapped her arm around Mary’s shoulder. “I think you were entirely correct in not accepting Mr. Ryder’s offer. Notwithstanding the satisfaction it would have brought me to see Miss Bingley thwarted – pardon me, that was unkind, even if it’s true – you do not love him. His inheriting the fortune of Lady Catherine does not signify.”
“So, you do not believe I was making a mistake? That I haven’t thrown away my last chance at happiness and security?”
Lizzy eyed her sister. “You sound like Mother.”
“I heard similar words often enough during our journey to Pemberley,” Mary replied curtly.
“That does not change the fact that it is nonsense,“ Lizzy said. “I think you were absolutely in the right. And in your heart of hearts, you know that you were right, too. Besides,” she added with a sniff, “I still haven’t forgiven Ryder for his first ‘proposal’ when he was here at Pemberley.”
Mary let out a laugh in spite of herself. “Mr. Ryder is a good man, I promise you!” She sighed. “He just…he’s not for me.”
“But Mr. Tom Hayward?” Lizzy asked softly.
Mary sniffled, the nod of her head nearly imperceptible…but not to Lizzy. They stood together in silence for a while, letting the truth of Mary’s unspoken confession wash over them.
Lizzy broke the silence first. “What I don’t understand, Mary, is why you are here and not in London.”
“Mr. Hayward is not in London, either.”
“That may be true. But that does not explain what prompted you to leave town, as well.”
Mary blew out a breath. “Mama came into the room just as Mr. Ryder was leaving. You can imagine how furious she was for my refusing him. We talked— well, we argued, really. I was prepared to stand my ground, just as I had when I left Pemberley with the Gardiners. I told her how I felt, how I had found joy on my own, how I was ready to embark on a different kind of life…”
“But?”
“But then I remembered something Mr. Ryder had said when he proposed. That Mr. Hayward— ‘He gave me his blessing,’ Mr. Ryder said.”
Ah, Lizzy thought. Here we come to the heart of the issue.
“And just as I remembered it,” Mary continued, “Mama said to me, ‘There’s nothing waiting for you here, you know.’ And…oh, Lizzy, I’m ashamed to remember it now…in that moment, I was overcome. I was upset, and I was hurt, and I was - oh, I was angry. And the worst of it was, I wasn’t even angry at Mama for saying it. I was angry at Mr. Hayward for his absence, at Mr. Ryder for accepting his blessing, as though they know better than I do what I should want— angry at myself for feeling, even as I know I can find happiness on my own, no matter what our mother says…”
“…Angry for feeling that part of you was still waiting for him?” Lizzy guessed.
“Yes! But of course, that was all it took. That one moment of weakness was enough for Mother to send me upstairs to pack.” Mary slumped into a heap on the grass. “And I didn’t fight it.”
Lizzy sat down carefully next to her. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
Mary plucked at a blade of grass, winding it into a knot. “I know. But I could have stayed. I should have stayed. The Gardiners made it very clear that I was welcome to stay forever, if I wanted. But Mother-“
“Don’t mind our mother,” Lizzy assured her. “Now that she’s back, there is nothing to stop you from leaving again if you wish to. I will make sure of it, I promise you.” She paused, considering the options. “But that does not mean there is nothing for you here. Perhaps a little sojourn away from town would do you good. It may help…with the anger.”
“I’m not angry anymore,” Mary protested.
Lizzy shot her a knowing look. For all her solemn severity, the truth was written plain on her sister’s face. It all felt strangely familiar- nostalgic, even.
“I never did tell you about what happened the first time Darcy proposed, did I?”
Mary gaped at her in surprise. “The first time?”
She grinned back. “All water under the bridge now, of course, so I shall not bother you with the exact details. Suffice to say that his first proposal was very unexpected, and the mode of his declaration did not make it any more welcome.”
Mary laughed in spite of herself. “But you are married now! I cannot believe he would have proposed in a way that would induce you to refuse him. You are so clearly in love with Mr. Darcy, even I can see it.”
“I do love him, yes. In truth, I think I loved him long before I even realized it. ” Lizzy laughed at the memory. “At the time, however - there was no end to my indignation. Never had I been more angry than I was at Mr. Darcy for his behaviour. And I had every right to be angry, trust me on that. But with a little time and space, my anger, it…softened. All that is to say…just as you are justified in refusing Mr. Ryder in spite of your esteem for him, so too are you justified in your anger to Mr. Hayward for his disappearance, even—”
“Even if I miss him.”
Lizzy cast another knowing glance her way. “Yes, that too.”
Mary did not meet her eyes, focusing instead on the growing braid of green stems in her hands. “It’s not as though I’m incapable of conceiving a life in London without him,” she reasoned. “It’s not like I expect to run into him on my walks through the park, or hope to see him when I look out a shop window, or…”
“Of course you don’t. You are strong. So strong. And I do not expect you to wallow in your hurt. But out here…the city has its own charms, I know, but perhaps the quiet of the country will do some good? Allow you to hear your own thoughts?”
“I think,” Mary replied with a sniff, “that I had much rather read.”
Lizzy smiled. “There’s the girl I know and love.” She stood, brushing the dirt from the folds of her skirt, and extended a hand to her sister. “Remember, you are no captive here. But please consider staying just a little while? I have missed you, as well.”
Mary took her hand, raising herself to standing. “I will stay. For a little while. Just until I figure out what to do next.”
Satisfied, Lizzy linked arms with Mary and they began their walk back towards the house. But even as they walked, another plan began to form in Elizabeth’s mind.
She had already helped to engineer Mary’s escape once before. The Gardiners, of course, had been very willing co-conspirators, and she had found a rather unexpected ally in Mr. Collins.
The task of reuniting Mary with Mr. Hayward, however, would not be nearly as simple. Nor could she guarantee that doing so would necessarily bring about a happy result.
However, if Lizzy’s instincts were correct, it had the potential to restore the happiness of more than just her beloved sister.
She would have to speak with Darcy that evening.