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{ psl: a longbourn christmas }
[ The month of November carried on and the monotony of everyday life was broken up by the visits of Mr. Cartwright, who after being formally invited to Christmas dinner had surprised the elder Bennets by announcing his intention to perform a duet with Miss Bennet at the party. The pair practiced in the formal parlor with the door wide open and even the gossiping servants could find nothing imprudent to pass on. Every time they eavesdropped in, the pair spoke matter-of-factly on things such as tempo, chords, and movements. Mrs. Bennet could not bear to be in the same room as him and no entreaties to either husband or child to cancel this nonsense were given any serious thought. So she spent her days stewing in discontent and speaking on how ill used she was to her sister Mrs. Phillips, who of course told the whole town in her turn.
November faded away into December, and soon Mrs. Bennet was in a frenzy about the coming guests. There were arrangements to be made, arguments to be had, and eventually all was settled that the Bingleys and Darcys (including Georgiana) would all stay at Longbourn. It was a point of pride that Mrs. Bennet had room for all of them to stay comfortably, though it turned out that Miss Darcy would have to share Kitty's room with her. No matter, as the two girls were thick as thieves now and Mary had been spared from giving up her room to the young heiress thanks to Kitty's insistence that this was what Georgiana wanted. Having never had a sister, the young lady was excited to share quarters with someone who had become such a close friend.
The carriages arrived on Christmas Eve and after settling in, resting from the long journey from the last inn, and dressing for the occasion, the families gathered in the parlor to await their final guest as well as the dinner bell. Jane and Elizabeth were resplendent in expensive gowns, and Kitty and Georgiana were not far behind in their own. Mary wore her best gown, which she had worn to Lizzy's wedding. It was a soft green that was light enough that as she examined herself in the mirror she was reminded of Mr. Cartwright's eyes. Kitty insisted on weaving a cream colored ribbon through her hair for her and Mary thought it best not to protest in front of Miss Darcy, who agreed she looked lovely.
Now with all set, Kitty taps a foot upon the carpet and looks towards the door. "Where is this mysterious fellow?" she asks, sounding impatient. In truth, she appears about ready to burst out of her chair. Ever since her arrival home she's seemed different. Not simply more confident in herself and better behaved, but as though she is always on the verge of saying something, but then thinks better of it. Mary can only see it as a good thing that she's thinking before she speaks. ]
I am sure he is almost here.
[ He is not yet at the point of being considered late, as they have not been called to dinner. And Mary wonders to herself if this is Kitty eager to see a gentleman bachelor. The thought worries her a little. But Mr. Cartwright is a sensible man who does not flirt or gives consequence to those he feels is unworthy of his attentions. Perhaps Mary is being a bit harsh on her sister, or perhaps jealousy is rearing its ugly head again. ]
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Nadelik Lowen, Mr. Bryok. ( atticus addresses mr. bennet's valet by his cornish last name. after he removes his greatcoat and hat and hands it to the waiting servant, they chat in cornish like old friends. ) If I didn't fear Dustros' appetite and tenacity, I would have brought you a Star Gazy pie. Alas, you shall have to find comfort in this. ( he gives him a small wreath comprised of holly, ivy, and mistletoe weaved around withy with a small apple and mistletoe hanging in the middle. ) As well as one for your master. ( the footman behind him carries a larger wreath. it's a cornish bush, a traditional cornish item to hang on the twentieth of december to welcome in god's light, though it is four days past the traditional date. he said this would be his first british christmas in some time, but atticus still wants to celebrate and share their cornish heritage. mr. brooke thanks him and shows him to the parlour where the guests are waiting.
laughter precedes his entrance.
unlike the other gentlemen's dark tones, atticus wears a double-breasted tailcoat gold, like the first spring sunrise, with a matching waistcoat; a silk damask with floral sprigs. a silk purple pansy is attached to his lapel. clean-shaven and with his hair neatly combed, atticus looks every bit of the gentleman he was raised to be. under his arm is what appears to be dustros or a large beast with flecks of snow stuck on its fur, but it's his violin case, wrapped in a flokati rug to prevent the instrument's wood from contracting due to the cold.
his gaze first settles on miss bennet before flickering to the master of the house, his wife, his married daughters, and his sons-in-law. from the descriptions provided by mr. bennet, atticus can place names on their faces: the two with golden hair are the bingleys, the two with dark hair and dark eyes are the darcys, the young girl sitting at the table is miss kitty bennet, and the other blonde-haired girl sitting alongside her is —? perhaps mrs. wickham? but, then, where is her husband?
they all rise to greet him, but mr. bennet is the first to approach him and they shake his hands. atticus gestures to the footman to give mr. bennet the wreath. ) For you and your family. A Cornish bush. Pardon me for a moment, please.
( because of the significance of his violin, atticus declines to hand it to the waiting footman and puts it on the table near the fire himself so it can warm. it's dangerous to bring a wooden instrument out in the cold, but atticus had said that he and miss bennet would perform tonight. he intends to keep his promise. in the firelight, his white shirt shines, starched with rice from the laundress earlier that week.
mr. bennet introduces atticus to everyone and he is correct in his earlier assumptions, except for the blonde-haired girl who was not mrs. wickham but is mr. darcy's sister, georgiana. he is all smiles and politeness to them, bowing and murmuring words that convey the honour of making their acquaintance. mrs. bennet is cold but civil when he bows to her and expresses his gratitude for her hospitality. she curtsies back but doesn't smile. furtively, he cuts a glance at miss bennet with amusement glinting in his green eyes and a restrained laugh pulling at his mouth.
mr. darcy observes this and almost frowns, but covers it before his wife spots it. before formally meeting him, he already had misgivings towards mr. cartwright. but the man's noble mien and expensive clothing only deepen his suspicions. )
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Occasionally Mr. Bingley or Jane will remember her and say a kind word, or ask for her opinion. Instead of sitting on the edge of her seat, eager to grasp at any little scrap of attention, she offers a faint smile and answers without haughtiness or desperation. It's enough of a change that they all take notice, but it is also unsurprising that the moment is quickly forgotten until the next instance where she is addressed.
The arrival of Mr. Cartwright brings more nervous feelings, but the way his eyes seek her out and he shares that secret smile with her immediately puts her at ease. His visits have made him such a familiar sight within these walls and she can't help but relax. ]
A Cornish bush is a lovely gift, sir. Thank you for it.
[ Mr. Bennet had thanked Atticus too, but Mrs. Bennet had not. Who was he to dictate what decorations to display in her house? As they all sit, she looks decidedly out of sorts and Georgiana gives Kitty a worried glance, but Kitty merely waves it away silently. Her mother is just like this when she feels affronted. It's actually a blessing she's not making snide remarks right now.
Conversation begins but is swiftly interrupted by the dinner bell. Mrs. Bennet leaps up, quick to arrange them into the order she wishes, as if they all have titles from the peerage as opposed to various levels of wealth. As the hostess, she must lead the way, and so Mr. Darcy will escort her in. That leaves Mrs. Darcy to go in with her father, but then Miss Darcy of course needs a male escort too! (Thirty thousand pounds inheritance is nothing to sniff at.) Mr. Bingley is chosen for that role rather than Mr. Cartwright as Mrs. Bennet doesn't trust the unsavory "gentleman" with the young lady even as far as the dining room. This leaves Jane to be led in by Mr. Cartwright and Kitty links arms with Mary at the rear of the line and smiles. It's so odd to have such a look directed her way, but Mary accepts it and in they all go, finding their seats. Mr. Bennet sits at the head on one end with Lizzie on his left and Mr. Darcy on his right. He insisted on it because he wished for intelligent conversation at dinner. Sadly, that pushed Mr. Cartwright closer to Mrs. Bennet, who wished for Jane at her left and Mr. Bingley at her right, and leaves Mr. Cartwright to Jane's left and Mary to his. Across from him sits Georgiana with Kitty to her right - a fact that had nearly made Mrs. Bennet invite more men because of the uneven genders. But this is a family with five daughters and Mr. Bennet felt the less people in his house, the better. So here they all are, taking their seats and being served the first course. ]
I hope the ride here was not taxing, Mr. Cartwright.
[ It's asked in a quiet tone as the rest of the table starts their conversations. ]
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atticus decides to start with white soup and escalate to the richer, fattier food, but it's a possibility that may not transpire. if he overindulged in food, he would not want to play his violin but instead desire to sleep. )
Not at all, Miss Bennet. I thank you for asking. ( instead of his normal sharp and exaggerated response, his voice is mild and response even milder. mr. and miss bennet extended their trust by inviting him to one of the most important meals of the year and to meet their family, so he would return the courtesy and be on his best behaviour. he does not want to embarrass them by proving their faith in him is misplaced. ) Thus far, I have found winter in Meryton pleasant.
( from across the table, a soft voice pipes up, "and have you experienced many unpleasant winters, sir?" atticus's gaze turns from his white soup to miss darcy, sitting across from him. her golden hair glows in the light from the roaring christmas fire. a ghost of a smile crosses his features when he answers her, ) Pleasant and unpleasant are relative terms. But I have been fortunate in that if winter is too unpleasant, I can depart for more pleasant lands.
( meryton, however, has been truly pleasant this winter, in spite of most of its residents.
"do you often depart for more pleasant lands?" miss darcy asks, her attention focused on him rather than on her soup. ) As of late, no. My time has been occupied enough here that I could not leave.
( atticus takes a small sip of his soup. miss darcy also takes a sip of her soup and then further inquires about his "departures." his answers are plain, direct, and, as always, vague, but without the characteristic enthusiasm blazing his words and eyes. )
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Everything she knows of Miss Darcy comes directly from her sisters' letters and there has been nothing to suggest she is any sort of flirt, but Mary cannot shake the feeling that Miss Darcy is attempting to do so with Mr. Cartwright. Is it a fair leap of the mind to make? Surely someone who had seen Lydia and Kitty flirt often can see the signs. But something else is at play here, because Mary absolutely does not want Georgiana flirting with Mr. Cartwright. Nor does she want anyone else to either.
She swirls her spoon around her soup in consternation as she tries to think of where to steer the conversation so she might have a part in it. Surely if this younger lady can so easily do it, Mary can as well. ]
Mr. Cartwright has been at home for several months, but before that he visited Dresden.
[ Perhaps there is a hint of superiority within her at having some knowledge of the man's movements. That feeling soon fades, however, as Miss Darcy looks back at the gentleman and in perfect German asks: "And does Dresden have any splendid vistas or pleasant walks?" It's enough to make Mary want to sink into her chair since she only understood half of what was said. An itinerant German instructor can only teach so many adjectives before he must be off to the next town. ]
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Many. Enough to distract from the magnificent woods and mountains which surround the city, ( he replies in perfect german. atticus sips his drink, choosing to drink water this night instead of the mulled wine like the others. after the previous time in which he drank alcohol and acted like a fool, he decided to avoid drinking in front of others. it is better to be a fool in private.
returning to english, he asks, ) I hear you play the pianoforte. Are you fond of music, Miss Darcy?
( not that he is terribly interested whether she is or not. a heavy feeling weighing as much as miss darcy's coy glances at him begin to grow in his stomach. her opinion would align with his, even in matters where they would previously differ. he does not want to encourage her to think his questions speak of any interest in her beyond civility. but he also does not want to talk further about himself any longer. not when atticus can feel the weight of another weighty glance at the left side of his head from the end of the table next to mr. bennet. )
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When Mr. Cartwright returns to English she looks back, her face rather blank as she does her best to not let any jealousy show. The person she had once been cared deeply about being the most accomplished at the pianoforte, but she has no desire to be that version of Mary anymore. And yet old habits are hard to break as she knows hearing about Miss Darcy's talents had at one time caused her no small degree of irritation.
"Oh, terribly fond, Mr. Cartwright! It is my greatest passion. And my brother is so generous; he always brings me new compositions to study and play." Georgiana's gaze shifts towards her brother and she catches the faint hint of disapproval coming from him. It's a bit confusing as she knows he loves her playing music. She cannot account for it. ]
I do hope you will find our performance this evening to your liking, Miss Darcy.
[ Unable to shake this strange feeling that she must keep Miss Darcy from having Mr. Cartwright all to herself, Mary feels a tinge of happiness at referring to herself and Mr. Cartwright as a pair. There is something so simple yet so effective at using the word "our," as though she's planted a flag and claimed the gentleman as her territory. Such sensations as these are wholly new to Mary. Not even when Mr. Collins visited and she thought he might do for a husband did she feel such intense feelings of jealousy at him favoring first Lizzie and then Charlotte Lucas instead. ]
We have been practicing for quite some time.
[ Her eyes lift to Mr. Cartwright's face to study it. It is easy to see why Miss Darcy has taken an interest. He has strong features, striking eyes, and is well educated with an interest in music. In addition to that, now that Mary has grown accustomed to his sense of humor and dry wit, she can appreciate it more. Yet so much about him still remains a mystery; there is no denying that. ]
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mr. cartwright sets his goblet down and says, smiling though not as widely as he was before. ) I hope you also do us the honour of playing this evening, Miss Darcy.
( heat rises in her face either from mr. cartwright's words or from the roaring christmas fire. she ducks her head to hide her scarlet cheeks and burgeoning smile as her mind races to say something witty in response. fortunately (or unfortunately), miss darcy is saved by mr. bennet calling to mr. cartwright from the other end of the table. he asks after a travel book from an author lizzie has been reading so much as of late. mr. stirling or something like that. mr. cartwright appears as confused as miss darcy as he turns from his empty bowl of soup, his brows pinched and green eyes narrowed. ) Sir?
( mr. bennet repeats himself. "i asked if mr. stirling was accurate in his description of rome." )
I apologise, but I have yet to read a word from Mr. Stirling so I am ill-qualified to respond. Perhaps I shall remedy that in the New Year.
( books. miss darcy can speak to mr. cartwright about books. although she does not read as much as lizzie or mary, she has been in the room where discussions about books were had enough times to absorb something. peeking from under the golden ringlets that have fallen over her brow, she asks, "are you a great reader, mr. cartwright?"
another smile pulls at his mouth as if he has found amusement in her question but is choosing to keep it to himself rather than sharing it. how much of himself is he hiding or keeping restrained? is the mr. cartwright before her genuine or an illusion like a hazy reflection of a figure off the water's surface. ) Hardly. I have never considered myself great in any subject as there is always room for study and improvement. I do, however, possess a sizeable amount of books that keep my mind occupied. As Miss Bennet can attest.
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Her gaze moves from her father back towards Mr. Cartwright where it lingers on his smile and the way something seems to hide behind it. By now she notes the way he deflects certain questions like an expert fencer and yet he still manages to answer, albeit in a way that invites no further inquiries. ]
Oh, yes indeed. The number far exceeds the bookshelves in your cottage and they occupy every table and space on the floor.
[ There is no sense in denying that she's seen the inside of his cottage; not with the way her mother carried on about the incident, and for anyone unaware of it, they can assume Mary has made a chaperoned call to his cottage before. Miss Darcy looks torn between being impressed at Mr. Cartwright's collection and a bit jealous at Miss Bennet's having seen it. From all accounts Miss Bennet is a great reader and would have taken close notice at his collection. ]
But I do believe- [ Mary continues, feeling the need to give voice to the thoughts in her head. Across the table Kitty exchanges a look with Elizabeth. It is not mean spirited, but rather begrudging, as both recall Mary starting her sentences with just such a phrase before she went on for rather far too long. ] -that you are the kind of man who wishes to see things with your own eyes and hear with your own ears. You have no need to read Stirling's travelogues, for you travel yourself. And who could sit and read another's words on a sight when you have lived it yourself?
[ Her head tilts slightly and brows lift in question at him. She's admired how he can always pick up and go as he pleases to see what's out there, even if she doesn't think she could ever travel further than London and she wouldn't care much for the city if she were there. ]
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he keeps his gaze down. although he can easily manoeuvre like a clipper around certain questions that broach upon being too personal, atticus prefers any attention to be placed anywhere else but on him. with a party this size, he thought it would be easy for him to go unnoticed and disappear into the background like a stone sinking beneath the water. from what he has heard, it has been several months since the bennet family has been whole so he thought they would be more interested in each other and not the outsider mr. bennet strongly desired to attend. )
Well observed, Miss Bennet. Naturally, I prefer to look through my own eyes rather than those of another. It is the mind that truly sees after all, and each mind has a distinctive perspective. But, I understand that Mr. Stirling's works are written for those who cannot travel and see for themselves what is described. Through him, they can live. I speak with a privilege few ever hold.
And that is as far as I can discuss Mr. Stirling. ( atticus glances at miss bennet. ) As you have neither the desire nor the inclination to travel, perhaps it would be the better alternative. ( said with no judgement or condemnation
"oh, do you not like travelling, miss bennet?" miss darcy turns to miss bennet. "for me, travel is one of life's greatest pleasures. i wish to visit the places mr. stirling describes in his writings so that i may live and grow. but i shall read his books anyway for they may give me ideas as to where to visit." she casts a pointed look towards her brother, which he ignores by focusing on mr. bennet's words. he doesn't know what the conversation between miss darcy and mr. cartwright has led to, but it is nothing he wishes to deal with during dinner while surrounded by others. )
A sensible idea. It shall also give you ample time to find a travelling companion. Shared joy is a double joy.
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If only she could refute such things to paint herself in a better light. Of course she would love to see the ruins of Greece, the cathedrals of Italy, even the shores of England, but she has been adamant all her life that she only requires music and books to be content. She has no desire to gallivant around in a cramped carriage over poor roads to see these sights. And if she were to change her mind now and say that she does - in fact - wish to see these far off sights, her sisters will ask why she never wishes to visit either of them.
And so she stays silent in the face of Miss Darcy's triumph, toes curling in her slippers in annoyance. The young lady across the table blushes a rosy pink at the gentleman's suggestion, thinking it might signify something. Perhaps he is giving her a hint?
"I would be most pleased to share the journey with another," she answers, trying to meet his eyes. The rest of the table breaks off into separate conversations once more, but Mary falls silent and picks at her second course. The time spent ignoring the table gives her the opportunity to reflect. Had she not declared that she no longer cared what anyone thought of her anymore? Why should she care how she looks to Miss Darcy? Why should she care that the great traveler Mr. Cartwright advised her to just read a travelogue? It's all very vexing and she knows if she allows herself to be buried in these concerns that she will not be able to concentrate on her performance tonight.
Suppressing a sigh, she straightens a little and returns to her meal, quietly observing the rest of the table for as long as dinner lasts. Once the last course has been cleared away, the ladies retire to the formal parlor where the pianoforte lies while the gentleman relax at the table a bit longer with drinks. Soon enough, however, the men rejoin them and Mr. Bennet clears his throat.
"And I do believe now it is time for Mr. Cartwright and Mary to favor us with a duet." He looks at the pair with a bit of mirth shining in his eyes. Perhaps it's the alcohol or perhaps he expects something amusing to occur, but he appears to be in a favorable mood. As Mary approaches the instrument, suddenly Miss Darcy jolts from her seat and heads over as well, embarrassment flushing her cheeks at her bold action before she explains herself in an excited whisper: "You shall need someone to turn the pages for you, yes?"
Mary is quite caught off guard, as she had planned to do it herself since she's used to no one offering. And were this a year ago she would politely refuse the offer. However, Mary has matured a little and learnt tact, so she won't reject the kind offer and instead inclines her head. ]
That is very kind, Miss Darcy. If you are certain it will not be any trouble?
[ "Oh, no; no trouble at all! I am happy to assist you, Miss Bennet." Her smile is sincere, but it grows as she lifts her gaze towards Mr. Cartwright. Now Mary is wondering if Miss Darcy simply wanted to be at the pianoforte so she could be closer to him. Forcing the thought away, Mary seats herself and sets the piece of music that Mr. Cartwright had gifted to her in its proper place before looking to the gentleman for his cue. ]
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the conversation with miss darcy ceases after this. for the rest of dinner, he speaks to mrs. bingley about gardening, which leads into a discussion about the recent harvest with mr. bingley. they are nice people with none of the proclivities that plague others of their rank and class. he likes them, even more so when he mentions working alongside the farmhands and neither disgust nor disdain betrays their cheerful countenances. atticus does observe a slight scowl pull at mrs. bennet when he usurps mr. and mrs. bingley's attention and he takes great delight in doing so. in fact, he continues the conversation past the point where he would lose interest simply to spite her.
soon, dinner ends and the ladies filter out, leaving behind only the gentlemen in the dining room to finish their drinks and conversations. on a few occasions, mr. bennet attempts to bring atticus into the exchange, but he declines to engage beyond some brief comments, preferring to keep to himself and his water. finally, both the alcohol and conversation dry up and mr. bennet leads them back to the parlour to rejoin the ladies. without any prompt or hesitation, atticus goes to his violin case and takes out the instrument.
like the ocean, wooden instruments have their storms and their tides. they are dark, temperamental, and everchanging. their whims depend entirely on the atmosphere: too cold, too hot, too dry, too humid, too unbecoming, and they can crack. the best a player can hope for when they move an instrument from one environment to the other is that the instrument is out of tune. this is what atticus is listening for as he softly draws the bow across each string and adjusts the pegs. he has played in this room so often that he knows how it should sound within these walls, although there are significantly more people in the room than usual, which affects the humidity and timbre. for the past month or so, only he, mary, and one other person sat in here. at first, it was mrs. bennet who chaperoned their practice before the constant sight of atticus tired her nerves to the point where she forced mr. bennet to take her spot while she retired to her suite. he did for a week before he too grew tired and ordered one of the maids to take his spot while he retired to his library.
the first couple of their practices involved having miss bennet play through the entirety of the first movement without his accompaniment. at first, she plodded through the piece like one does through snow, but, after the third day, she picked up the tempo enough that he played alongside her. still, she would sometimes make mistakes but he would tell her to keep playing to the end. if one trips while walking, they do not return to the start to begin again. they press on. eventually, she reached the stage where she made only a few mistakes and only in parts when he was playing so they were unnoticeable to those unfamiliar with the piece. although she was not the piano virtuoso he was led to believe, miss bennet still demonstrated enough talent, patience, and determination that impressed him. not all are blessed with natural or acquired talent and must press on with whatever scraps are left to them.
satisfied that his violin is in tune and a string won't snap, he turns to his partner. atticus has become so accustomed to the solitary sight of miss bennet at the pianoforte that the addition of miss darcy almost startles him. he leans forward a little to look past miss darcy to catch miss bennet's attention. as the first eighth note is hers, he nods to her that he is indeed ready and she can begin. )
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Mary rests her fingers on the keys, draws in a slow breath, and begins. Straight away her family may notice that her expression is unlike what they've seen in past performances. Instead of the incredibly focused eyes and set jaw, Mary's expression is relaxed. The first part of the piece moves quite fast and after she gets through it flawlessly, a smile tips the corners of her lips upward. She appears so unlike herself. To Mary, the point of playing was to show off how accomplished she was. At every performance she appeared like she was engaged in a competition and she had come to win. But now it looks like she's actually hearing what she's playing and enjoying the experience.
Miss Darcy is dutiful in turning her pages right when Mary needs them and is quick to smooth the pages down and move her hand out of the way. Despite the feelings she had held earlier towards Miss Darcy, it appears she's not allowing them to fester within her and is instead immersed in the music. Her performance will not be without its mistakes, but as with her last few practices with Mr. Cartwright, they will occur after the violin joins in and thus will be less noticeable to all excepting probably her dedicated page turner and the man himself. ]
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miss bennet's posture appears relaxed as she plays and thus atticus's brows loosen like pulling a thread free and his posture too relaxes.
a warmth and richness, from both the piece and the timbre of their instruments, permeates the parlour as they play the first movement of mozart's violin sonata no. 26. it is a scarcely nine-minute piece which they play with such celerity and ease that they finish within eight and a half. one advantage of playing with another is that one's partner hides any errors. miss bennet makes a few, but they are not egregious enough that anyone should notice and are hidden by the violin. anyways, she continues to play despite her mistakes, and that's commendable in itself. miss bennet, miss darcy, and he all perform well enough that it should inspire some satisfaction, delight, and approval. )
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This performance is not only her taking pleasure in the act of playing, but of casting aside her incessant need to receive approval from others. It's incredibly freeing and the slight fumbles her fingers make are hardly registered. In the past she would agonize over a flubbed note and practice over that part again and again until her fingers ached. Now it would be impossible for her to recall where the errors occurred. Her face is wholly changed from the way it always looked during a performance in the past, which had been heavily focused with squinting eyes and clenched teeth behind pinched lips, unless the song required her to sing, in which case her voice - untrained and poor - was to the delight of no one. Ease and maturity now seem to radiant off her instead of overconfidence and pride. As the last notes ring out, she keeps her hands resting on the final keys as the sound reverberates throughout the room before she slides her hands into her lap and looks over at her partner with a gentle smile.
The Bennet family and their husbands are various shades of impressed or stunned. Even Mr. Bennet claps along with the rest when he'd ordinarily refrain. Mrs. Bennet is quick to praise her talented daughter, but it's also a chance to fill the silence with her own voice. Mary stands and gives a polite curtsy, because even though she is no longer needy for their praise, it is a kindness they are doing so and she recognizes that.
Unable to wait any longer, Kitty stands and folds her hands before saying in a loud, clear voice that she has an announcement to make. It's a curious thing to Mary, since Kitty has so often faded into the background in this household, so she and Miss Darcy head over to the sofa to rejoin the party. ]
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and then the youngest bennet here jumps up as if she was struck by a tack, and declares that she has an announcement to make. as the ladies make their way to a sofa, atticus places his violin and the bow on top of the pianoforte, but, as there is no additional seating not directly next to miss darcy, he elects to remain standing near the fireplace. for a gentry woman of a marriageable age, there is only one announcement miss kitty could make. the prospect of it tugs at his features, almost twisting his mouth to a frown. but then, he catches miss bennet's gaze, and his expression melts into something more neutral, almost comforting. a wide smile spreads across miss kitty's face, and she draws in a deep breath. )
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Amidst all the squeals and chatter, a shadow has fallen over Mary. Of course she had been aware that her mother wanted Kitty to find a dashing, rich husband in Derbyshire, but she hadn't seriously thought it would occur. Now she sits in stunned silence as the grim realization that she will be the only unmarried sister is becoming a reality. It was always something that hung over her head ever since she first bloomed into a young lady and her mother would tell the neighbors "It is such a pity my Mary is not handsome, but that means I will have someone to take care of me in my old age!" Her dinner seems to churn in her stomach. Another younger sister becoming a married woman and having a home of her own. Just as her emotions threaten to make her dizzy, Miss Darcy's soft voice breaks through from beside her.
"Is it not wonderful? He is a friend of the family and very kind. He dotes on her so. Miss Bennet? Is everything all right?" Mary forces down her feelings and swallows hard before offering an unnatural smile. Thankfully Miss Darcy is not familiar enough with Mary to know what her true smiles look like, though the same could be said of any of her family as well. ]
Yes, quite well. She never spoke of him in her letters home.
[ Her voice sounds foreign to her own ears, like she's breathless, choking on air. Everyone has found someone to share their lives with but for her. Is she truly so terrible to be around? Is she such terrible company? She will speak of books and human nature and other intelligent subjects. Does no man desire such a thing in a wife? Her throat feels tight but thankfully Miss Darcy is explaining the courtship and how hesitant Kitty was to rush into anything. Mary is only half-listening, but she's glad the young lady doesn't seem to notice. Her fingers are laced together in her lap, knuckles white from the way she squeezes her hands tight to force down any strong emotion from spilling over. It's the work of several moments and slow breaths, but eventually a mask in set in place over her features and she's the familiar, slightly aloof Mary her family recognizes.
By the time Kitty can extricate herself from her mother to come over to Mary and get her opinion, Mary has rehearsed what to say in her head several times already. ]
I wish you joy, sister. May you find felicity in your marriage and future life with your intended.
[ It's a good enough reaction for Kitty, who thanks her sister and has learnt enough tact to not make a joke about Mary now being a spinster. It's something Lydia would have said, or goaded Kitty to say, and she wants to be better than that. Of course she still recognizes that she had the thought in the first place so she still has a way to go.
Mr. Bennet rests an arm on the mantle opposite Mr. Cartwright and with his characteristic wit says: "Well, I am rid of another of them. Let us hope her betrothed is the patient sort and has an even temper. Or a rather large library in which to retreat." Yes, Mr. Bennet will not be swayed from the way he speaks of his daughters, even on an occasion such as this. ]
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mr. bennet joins him at the fireplace with his usual witticism and atticus lobs back, ) Patience and an even temper for whom — his new wife or in-laws? ( the older man follows his gaze at mrs. bennet now barraging questions regarding miss kitty's betrothed at mrs. darcy. but then atticus's gaze quickly turns to mr. bennet, for it's not as if only mrs. bennet displays uncouth behaviour. his eyes shift away from the older man before he can catch it. ) All the same, congratulations on the engagement of your daughter. I do not doubt that your remaining daughter's engagement is not far behind. These things tend to occur in pairs, you know.
( "an offer, mr. cartwright?" asks mr. bennet, almost cracking a wry smile. a soft chuckle bubbles from atticus as he shakes his head. ) If only to witness Mrs. Bennet's reaction. Otherwise, no. But, if I did offer, you would do right to reject it, George. I would make a horrendous son-in-law.
( "i'd want nothing else." and mr. bennet's smile widens a little at the thought of his wife fainting and mr. cartwright as his son-in-law. certainly, he wouldn't be any worse than his other sons-in-law. and at least, he wouldn't need to meet and become acquainted with yet another person.
their conversation is halted when mrs. bingley cuts in to gather mr. bennet to say some congratulatory words to his newly engaged daughter. mr. bennet shrugs, looking back at atticus as he's swept away. whatever he says to his daughter will be no less biting than what he said to atticus. but, that is his nature and everyone is content to make allowances for it.
as miss darcy has left to join miss kitty in her celebratory circle, her spot on the sofa is now open so atticus moves to fill it. standing makes him feel more out of place as if he is an unaware deer in a clearing, ready for a hunter's bullet. he sits down, looking at the clock on the small table, and wonders how much longer he must stay.
still on the sofa is miss bennet. surprisingly, it isn't her that's with her sister, but atticus has not detected any trace of the sisterly affection that he can see between mrs. darcy and mrs. bingley so perhaps it's not too surprising that she's by herself. after all, being blood does not automatically establish a bond. but, like him, miss bennet is the kind who prefers the company of just herself. or perhaps, like him, she was forced to become the kind who prefers seclusion.
atticus murmurs to her, ) You played very well this evening, Miss Bennet. Your best performance yet. ( to the measure of the clock, he taps his ring against the wooden arm of the sofa, gently enough that it won't leave a mark but loud enough to disrupt the silence from their end of the parlour. )
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Thank you, sir. I could feel that it was so.
[ Her spirits lift from this bit of praise and her body shifts ever so slightly in his direction to give him her attention. ]
When you joined in I was so taken with the movement of the piece that I believed we moved from allegretto to allegro quite fluidly.
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he places his elbow on the wooden arm and rests his cheek against his hand so he can turn his head to look at miss bennet. it's a furtive gesture, akin to gentry ladies hiding their faces behind fans when prospective suitors catch them batting their eyelashes. ) If you continue to play as well as you did tonight, you could amaze a room without needing a partner. Then I could sit here and enjoy the music amongst your crowd of devotees.
( he is only half-teasing when he says that, as evident by his smirk and the playfulness glinting in his green eyes. however, he is not being facetious if he said that he does believe she could amaze a room by herself. although she does not possess a natural musical talent like that of mozart or beethoven, miss bennet does possess a determination and patience that serves her better. if only she had received proper instruction sooner then perhaps her talents and skills would be better cultivated. )
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I will always welcome the performance of a duet with you, but I give you leave to remain in the audience next time.
[ Is this... wit? Coming from Mary? Surely it must be a fluke. But responding in this manner gives her a little thrill all the same. ]
Now that our performance is over, I shall return to studying the other pieces you gifted to me.
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( as they have performed their duet, there will no longer be any need for atticus to frequent longbourn so often. his visits will return to their biweekly or monthly schedule, and that will be when he feels the need to call upon mr. bennet to discuss a book or an article in the newspaper. as a bachelor with no ambition for marriage, it would be improper to call upon a single lady so often, and she can visit him at avalon without a chaperone. atticus does not want to damage miss bennet's reputation and eligibility any further, so any chats between the two will have to be spontaneous or planned during his occasional visits to longbourn.
miss darcy sits in the chair next to them. a glow radiates from her expression, probably from the joy of her dear friend's engagement. "aren't weddings marvellous, mr. cartwright?"
frankly, he does not think weddings are marvellous. they are lengthy, ostentatious, and shallow productions that only serve to flaunt one's wealth and status, not the love and commitment between two people before god. atticus has attended several weddings, and it was several too many. he shall count himself fortunate if he can avoid ever attending another. however, despite his opinion on the matter, his countenance remains complimentary to miss darcy's opinion. ) Do you think so?
( miss darcy smiles, unable and unwilling to stop it from spreading across her face. even though miss bennet is also sitting with them and would be happy to partake in conversation, she is more interested in speaking only with mr. cartwright and hearing his opinion. "oh, most certainly. my brother's wedding last year was just grand. and i know kitty's wedding will be as well. mr. hamilton is a clergyman, you see."
from his days as a young child attending church to trinity college to considering the ship's priest as something closer than a friend, atticus has known many clergymen. and something they've all possessed is a sort of simplicity that allows them to engage in the drudgery of the community tittle-tattle and regurgitate the lessons of the church without question. but, perhaps he is being too unkind towards miss kitty's betrothed. the ranks of the church of england are now being filled by a new generation shaped by rationalism, revolution, natural sin, and an abhorrence of ceremony and ritual.
his eyebrow raises. ) So, he will officiate the wedding himself, then?
( miss darcy laughs, drawing a glance by her brother from across the room. "no, mr. ainsworth will perform the ceremony. he is the vicar of our parish, but he is retiring soon and mr. hamilton will replace him."
atticus glances towards miss bennet, determined to draw her into the conversation if only to alleviate the burden of feigning interest in this tedious wedding business. ) Your cousin is a clergyman as well, is he not? Was he the officiant at any of your sisters' weddings?
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As Miss Darcy presses him for his opinion, Mary can already recount memories of things he's said to her during their time together. Little encouragements or honest opinions that he was sure would set her on the right path to success. She can't recall another being who has had the faith in her that he has, and it is a sad reminder that she has no confidantes or deep, sisterly bonds. She has always enjoyed her own company and so it must be so again. It is only unfortunate that for a brief time she knew what that sensation of trust felt like.
Mr. Cartwright's voice draws her from her thoughts and she looks over with a mildly surprised expression. ]
Mr. Collins. Yes, he is but he did not officiate any of theirs. My sisters were married from this house and so our local vicar performed the ceremony. And Lydia- [ There is a moment's hesitation as her marriage is not something the family chooses to discuss. ] -was wed in London.
[ Across from them, Miss Darcy looks down at her dress and picks at one of the flowers embroidered on the muslin. Despite her brother's best efforts, it could not be hidden forever that Elizabeth's sister had married Mr. Wickham. She knows now that he is the worst kind of man, but the betrayal of someone she once thought she could trust still wounds her to this day.
Mary struggles to move the topic away from Lydia and as Mr. Collins has been brought up, she starts to speak of him. ]
Mr. Collins dwells in Kent, and his-
[ A loud voice from the hall stops her and everyone else in the room as it reverberates off the walls in a way that is all too familiar to the Bennets.
"La! I shall go in as I please!" The door bursts open and Lydia Wickham, heavy with child, stands before them as a flustered footman stands awkwardly behind her, having failed in his attempt to get her to stay while he hoped to quietly inform Mr. Bennet. Lydia beams and throws her arms into the air. "Mamma! I am home for Christmas and look at me! I am so fat!"
Mrs Bennet squeals in delight at having her favorite child before her again when she thought it unlikely she would see her for some time. Mr. Darcy has gotten to his feet and moved swiftly to the door in an effort to see if Wickham is in the hall or if she's come alone. He wishes to shield his sister from any unpleasant reunion if he can. The rest of the family's faces are various shades of red or white, depending if they're embarrassed or shocked at Lydia's sudden appearance. Mary is the latter and her eyes widen as she can only imagine what Mr. Cartwright will take away from this display.
Lydia and Mrs. Bennet are both talking rapidly over the other but that doesn't seem to be good enough for Lydia as she quickly turns towards the others in the room, asking them what they think of her huge belly and other inappropriate questions. Kitty looks like she's about to cry at having her moment usurped by her younger sister, Jane looks uncertain what to say, and Elizabeth looks like she can barely restrain herself from pulling Lydia from the room. Mr. Bennet looks close to the same.
And then to Mary's utter embarrassment, Lydia's eyes fall on Mr. Cartwright.
"Oh, who are you in the fancy waistcoat? Are you a gentleman?" ]
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when mrs. wickham sets her sights on him, atticus is already moving to stand, and just as she finishes speaking, he steps before her and bows. the brief time between standing and meeting mrs. wickham calms him even as the tension in the room builds. each member of the party is frozen in their seat, either from discomfort or a great deal of restraint, and none know how mr. cartwright will respond. mrs. wickham's behaviour is an embarrassment to the family.
but atticus has known people like her before. he compares them to a fire: they consume all the oxygen in a room to make themselves greater. all they seek is attention and will burn everything to attain it. however, like a fire, the way to extinguish them is by withholding oxygen. without attention, they move on. mrs. bennet is the sort but at least she can be tempered by her husband on occasion. and perhaps it is because of her that mrs. wickham is the same. or perhaps it's merely her nature. in any case, atticus cannot place the entire blame on the bennet father or daughters as they do not act the same. mrs. wickham and her mother appear to be the outliers. )
Mrs. Wickham. ( he does appear the embodiment of a gentleman with his shoulders set back and his posture straight as he stares down at her. nothing in his voice or countenance betrays approval or censure. he speaks to her as if she is a servant or a stranger on the street — less than as he usually smiles at servants and strangers. ) I have heard much about you. I wish you and your unborn child health and happiness.
( the uneasiness in the room slackens from mr. cartwright's magnanimity. but it flares up again as voices filter from the foyer through the cracked door; one familiar to atticus and one not, but both harsh in tone. it must be mr. darcy speaking to mr. wickham. as much as atticus thinks he should make a great display by congratulating miss kitty on her engagement, he decides he should return to miss darcy and miss bennet before either of the wickhams set their attention on them. at least miss kitty is engaged and won't be harassed for not being so. )
Pardon me. ( he bows and promptly returns to the sofa and the conversation as if there wasn't an interruption at all. he looks at miss darcy and now gives himself permission to smile. ) And your aunt is Mr. Collins' patroness? What a coincidence.
( if he can help it, atticus does not intend to give any further oxygen to the fire. )
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Without knowing the particulars, Mary can only assume that Georgiana is disappointed in the man Wickham has become after knowing him her whole life. It doesn't surprise her that it can leave one unable to focus on pleasantries, and so Mary takes the opportunity to speak on Miss Darcy's behalf. ]
Yes; Lady Catherine.
[ Lydia flops into the chair that Lizzie vacated, sighing aloud and she stretches out her legs and starts to complain to her mother about how dreadful it is to travel while with child, but a sudden door slam from the hallway causes her to flinch. All is silent for a moment until the door opens and Mr. Darcy ushers Lizzie back into the room. Both are grim faced and say nothing and when Lizzie sees her chair has been usurped she looks for another before her husband gestures for her to take his and he stands behind it.
"I believe we left off speaking of Mr. Hamilton, yes?" he asks, addressing the room at large. Lydia, who has managed to stay silent for more than two seconds suddenly looks about her.
"Oh? And who is Mr. Hamilton?"
As Kitty cautiously reveals her engagement, Mary tries to muster something to speak of that can hopefully dispel the miasma that has seemed to settle over them. Gently, she asks: ]
Have you ever played for your aunt, Miss Darcy?
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despite mr. wickham being spoken about, miss darcy responds, but softly though like she is still trying to compose herself again. it is unfair how a lovely evening as this could turn so terribly within only a few moments. "yes. my aunt is a great enjoyer of music. few people in england can make such a claim, but, truly, no one else but lady catherine can."
such a bold claim and one that atticus has a difficult time believing already, but then mrs. darcy smiles, and her fine eyes shine with amusement when she looks in their direction. that is enough to know that lady catherine may say such things, but they are not to be trusted.
"i should dearly love to play for you someday, mr. cartwright. i must think you are also a great enjoyer of music." )
Someday, why not now? Come. I insist. ( atticus insists so because it would muffle mrs. wickham's boasting. maybe even silence her but he doubts they would be so fortunate. it would also liven everyone's spirits that have fallen so low since the appearance of their guests.
a light blush dusts miss darcy's cheeks. "if you wish, sir. will you join me? i cannot play with no one to turn the page." while turning the pages for miss bennet, she recalls seeing other pieces by mozart on the music rack: two piano sonatas, no. 16 and no. 18. surely, miss bennet wouldn't be offended if she plays one for mr. cartwright? no, of course not because they both play so beautifully but so differently that miss bennet's performance would be unlike hers. )
Would that not defeat the object? I could not watch and admire your performance then. ( atticus smiles. ) Miss Bennet, you should join her. The only sight better than one pretty lady at the pianoforte is two.
( and then the two remaining single ladies in the room will be preoccupied enough that mrs. wickham cannot harass them. )
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Rising to her feet, she stares at him as if waiting for him to burst out laughing at her expense. She appears confused and anxious as to what he could mean by such a thing. No doubt a simple compliment, but one that pains her for she knows quite well it is not true.
Miss Darcy stands as well and the two move to the pianoforte where the younger lady looks between the two pieces and asks for Mary's opinion. If only she could focus on what was before her instead of what she just left on the sofa, she might be able to offer more than tapping No. 16 and letting that be the end of it. The ladies sit and Georgiana begins while Mary has to force herself to read the music because it wouldn't do to not turn the page at the proper time.
Pretty? Her? No, it is not so. He was saying it for Miss Darcy's benefit. But then could he have not worded it differently?
Miss Darcy looks briefly at Mary and the movement is enough to snap her out of her thoughts to realize she's only a few notes from the bottom of the page and she still has her hand in her lap. Quickly she reaches out a takes the edge, turning it and smoothing it down before there needs to be any pause. Now she truly forces herself to focus.
Predictably, Lydia is not going to let music stop her from chatting, but in her thoughtlessness she mentions the trip Mr. Wickham took to the betting tables the night before and how now he refuses to tell her how much pocket money he has left.
"He promised to buy me a new bonnet in Meryton," she declares, waiting for Kitty to look jealous at the news. However, her sister looks unmoved by this revelation. ]
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meanwhile, miss darcy's skills at the pianoforte are truly impressive. the way she can easily play through mozart's piano sonata no. 16 is remarkable. it would not take much effort on her part to amaze a theatre full of people. that would be if she became determined to engage in the pianoforte as a profession, but atticus doubts that she would. for all her sense and grace, miss darcy lacks the defining trait needed for the world outside her sphere: independence. by that, meaning the self-sufficiency to build oneself up and the apathy to ignore opinions designed to tear one down. in many ways, miss darcy is still a girl — even now, her gaze flits from atticus's to her brother's as if she's seeking assurance or praise. it is a thought he never wanted to waste time entertaining, much less now when he should be enjoying and assessing her performance.
less than ten minutes later, miss darcy finishes the piece without any obvious errors and mrs. wickham finishes her grievance without any substance. when the room claps, they clap for miss darcy, not for mrs. wickham. and lest he forget miss bennet's skills at turning the page at the right moment. she performed her part well.
"you played very well, miss darcy. although the piece was a bit dry for my taste," mrs. wickham says, full of the gaucheness that so defines her. miss darcy forces a smile as she murmurs appreciation for the compliment and moves to rejoin atticus on the sofa. mr. darcy, who relaxed during his sister's performance, grounds his jaw while his wife grimaces. either from habit or willfully, the others appear to ignore mrs. wickham and converse amongst themselves.
atticus glances at mrs. wickham and shoots her a question intended to make her look foolish. not that she needs the help ) Do you play, Mrs. Wickham?
( she looks at him, smiling. "lord no. i have neither the temper or desire for it." )
Yes ( he agrees, nodding absentmindedly. )
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Returning to the sofa to see Miss Darcy neatly slide into her former seat, she wishes she could be jealous of her performance because it would be so much simpler than being jealous about how the young lady seeks out Mr. Cartwright's attention. With no other choice, she seats herself in the chair Miss Darcy had previously taken and the conversation is quickly continued by Lydia.
"I have never given two straws about music, unless it is to dance with a handsome officer! I could never stand that droll nonsense Mary always used to play so badly!" Eyeing Mr. Bingley she suddenly addresses him directly. "Do you remember what a horrible performance she had at your ball? Lord, I laughed like anything and Papa had to make her stop before everyone's ears started to bleed."
That old wound reopening has Mary shutting her eyes and wishing this was all a nightmare. It had taken time and self reflection to come to terms with her behavior that day. But not only that, it was the day her father embarrassed her more than she had ever thought possible. To this day, she still is not sure if she deserved such public censure, but it pains her nonetheless.
The family reacts as one might expect to this dredging up of old events. Mr. Bingley gives a brief nod but says nothing while Jane looks ready to cry on Mary's behalf. Mr. Bennet pinches at the bridge of his nose, Kitty looks everywhere in the room that isn't eye contact with another person, and Mrs. Bennet merely chuckles along with her favorite daughter's reminiscing. After a brief glance of concern Mary's way, Elizabeth turns to her mother and quickly says: "You have not changed the decor in this room since last I was here. Did you not say you wished to change the upholstery?" Delighted at the conversation turning to a subject she could speak on for ages, Mrs. Bennet explains all her grand plans for the space as the mood in the room slowly stabilizes.
For her part, Mary remains silent with eyes shut as her lashes turn wet. Miss Darcy looks with worry at Mr. Cartwright, like she feels perhaps they should aid her somehow, but she doesn't wish to overstep her bounds. ]
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but it is not his place to say something. as much as he'd desire to stand up and call out their hypocrisy. anyways, would that help miss bennet? he worries it would only worsen her mood, and he cares more for her than for his anger. but if he cannot reveal his true feelings, what other option is there? distraction, which is what mrs. darcy chooses as she tries to engage her mother in another topic. but, although that may also pull mrs. wickham's attention, it does not dry miss bennet's tears and mend her hurt feelings. there is, however, a third option which combines the previous two.
a cold fierceness enters his gaze as he regards mrs. wickham. his voice is calm and still like the air before a tornado. ) Yet Miss Bennet performed wonderfully tonight. That should be commented upon; not one of long ago. Anyways, I believe, whether a performance is good or bad, it should be commended. For what other arena is there where one offers themselves and their soul for judgement? It should inspire us all to do better and try the same. ( his composure breaks a little as a wicked idea appears in his mind. )
In fact... ( trailing off, he stands and walks towards the pianoforte, confident in his step and expression. his violin rests atop the instrument but instead of picking that up to play, he sits down at the pianoforte. everyone watches him and holds their breath. if mr. cartwright is so talented on the violin, he must also possess some skill for the pianoforte, right?
he begins and his fingers, which are elegant on the violin, are awkward and uncertain across the ivory keys as he plays the opening chords. and then he sings, and it becomes immediately apparent that his voice is out of tune and rhythm, and will remain so for the entire song. it hardly takes any effort on his part. atticus is a violin virtuoso, but singing and the pianoforte are beyond his talents. it's a tale of two songs — the tune is the harpsichord portion of a vivaldi concerto, while the lyrics are a scottish drinking song about a man, a woman, and the sea. mrs. bennet and mrs. wickham burst into laughter when atticus pitches his off-key voice higher for the woman's verses while the others cringe. but they seem to understand his reasoning for this spectacle and tamper their grimaces during his performance.
when he finishes a blessedly two minutes later, everyone claps, most not for the music but out of gratitude for the gesture. mrs. wickham brays that it was a horrid performance and mrs. bennet vigorously nods in agreement. "much worse than mary's, good lord," mrs wickham mutters.
atticus bows and returns to his seat, still confident in his step and expression. he takes comfort in knowing that, despite what he did, he is not the greatest fool in the room. fortunately, by the time he sits back down, mrs. wickham's attentions have turned elsewhere and she and her mother are prattling on about some inane subject. the latest fashions from paris or whatever. the others have also moved on to other topics.
"that was um..." miss darcy stops and shifts in her seat, trying to think of a polite way to describe what happened. "an entertaining performance, mr. cartwright."
the corner of his mouth curls into a slight smile. ) That's very kind of you to say. Thank you. But I admit my skills on the pianoforte are lacking. Perhaps after the new year, Miss Bennet can provide some instruction. ( his smile widens when he looks at miss bennet. ) If you think me worthy of your time, that is. ( a chuckle bubbles in his words. )
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And then Lydia had arrived and it's a reminder of past hurts. A few years ago Mary probably would have attempted to think up an intelligent response. Something about Lydia being uncultured and unaware of the subtleties of the musical world. However, Lydia spoke truth in saying their father had had to make Mary stop playing and she would have no retort to such a sting. And so she sits with eyes shut as she tries to calm her soft heart. Trying to remember how to harden herself as she has before almost works until Mr. Cartwright's voice breaks through and her eyes fly open in utter surprise.
His movement to the pianoforte is followed with red-rimmed eyes as he seats himself and begins. What he produces is fumbling and poorly done right away and Mary exchanges a look with Miss Darcy as neither lady understands at first what he's doing. But when Mrs. Bennet and Lydia start cackling at his performance, she realizes this is for her benefit: a diversion from the cruel memories of her not so distant past. And the fact that he's making an absolute fool of himself causes a true smile to spread across her face. Mary doesn't outright laugh, but she's utterly diverted from her previous woes and finds she enjoys his silly antics. Naturally she does have moments where she cringes at a badly hit high note but it doesn't escape her notice how he doesn't care a wit how he'll be perceived for this. He lives his life with such freedom in all he does and says. As the song comes to an end and everyone claps, Mary feels a fluttering inside her the likes of which she's never felt before. It feels like an entire field's worth of butterflies are rapidly beating their wings inside of her.
By the time he addresses her, Mary has managed to compose herself and answer. ]
You jest, but I would instruct you if you were serious. Even that display is not enough for me to deem you hopeless. Besides, we both know you have a great deal of talent and your understanding of music means you could learn other instruments if your interest were to lie that way.
[ She very much doubts he will wish to, as a man has little need to pick up the pianoforte, but the image of them seated together at the instrument as she teaches him does enter her mind. ]
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but, again, none of this has come to pass so there is little value in surmising about it. miss bennet and the atmosphere of the room is cheerful again.
atticus laughs. ) No, I am content to deprive the world of my genius. All here ( he gestures around the room with a flick of his wrist. ) should consider themselves fortunate to have heard it, for none shall again. No, no. I will leave the pianoforte and singing to the two of you.
( "but you have not heard either of us sing. how can you be so certain that we are able? or, indeed, would even want to?" miss darcy asks, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she tries to keep up with his teasing. )
With speaking voices so clear and lovely, your singing must also be so. I beg you not to disappoint me by suggesting otherwise, Miss Darcy. ( he turns to miss bennet, a mock frown pulling at his features. ) Come, Miss Bennet. We are friends, are we not? Don't be cruel to either of us and deny these claims.
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This is too much praise, sir. I believe it possible that a singing voice can be flawed and the range at which one might sing is different than when one speaks. All I can say for myself is that I no longer sing when I perform, and I ask not to be persuaded otherwise. It is not false modesty on my part, but a genuine request to not be asked... by my friend.
[ The words come out far more easily than they once would have, when she would have tried to quickly plot out her words like the locations on a map towards her destination. These days her thoughts align more naturally instead of her needing to add a multitude of impressive adjectives to her speeches. ]
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a chuckle catches in his throat, and he laughs again. ) I would never request such a thing that could provoke anxiety in anyone: friend or foe. Anyways, you have proven your talents enough on the pianoforte that you need not resort to singing. Likewise, I believe I have proven similarly for myself.
( miss bennet is not one given to false modesty, so he will trust that she is speaking honestly.
"i have been fortunate in that i have received vocal instructions for some time, but i still find myself too overcome with nerves to sing in front of others." miss darcy blushes. even in front of a small audience. and, like miss bennet, i too do not wish ever to do so." although it could be said that she is mimicking miss bennet, miss darcy is honest in her words. as a creature prone to shyness, she prefers to exhibit in front of others talents that she is confident of her abilities. miss darcy can only bare so much of her soul at one time.
atticus taps his fingers against the wooden armrest in a sign of approval. ) Hear, hear, Miss Darcy. Live a life as unrestrained of worry and anxiety as possible. That is what I say.
( and that is also how atticus endeavours to live his life — with little anxiety and concern for others' opinions. it has served him well over the past few years. now he can say with all honesty that he does not know why he allowed himself to be so scared and worried in his previous life. why? he did not care for those people's opinions nor did he even like them. so why bury oneself in anxiety for those who also didn't care or like him? no, no. life is too brief to do that. )
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Mr. Cartwright has a very wise view on things. I agree that to constantly consider how others view you and trying to be favorable to them causes little but an inconvenience to one's self. I took inspiration from him in choosing to stop worrying about it.
[ Her eyes linger on the man and there is clear admiration written there that Miss Darcy reads perfectly clear. Her expression in response to seeing it is mildly troubled, but she struggles to reply and in the silence Lydia yawns loudly and declares that she will go to bed until her dear Wickham returns. There is a bit of a panic on Mrs. Bennet's part as she's arranged the bedrooms so perfectly and now there is an extra guest. After looking around at each member, she finally says: "You will stay in Mary's room with her!" Both Mary and Lydia balk at the idea, though Mary does so only in her head as her face pales and Lydia groans loudly and declares she will not. There is a bit of arguing between mother and daughter before Mr. Bennet stands, glad to get out of the room with all this socialization and says, "My dear Mrs. Bennet, I can think of no better spot for your favorite child than your own apartment. Come now! Everyone to bed."
He doesn't have to say it twice. Everyone stands, ready to file out of the room and Mr. Bennet approaches Mr. Cartwright to shake his hand and thank him for coming. ]