moralized | { psl: to london }

{ psl: to london }

[ The last days of the year which were meant to be spent in merriment with family were unfortunately tainted at Longbourn by the failure of Wickham to return. At first Lydia seemed content to laugh it off, saying this was not the first time he'd done such a thing, but as the third day arrived with no word from him, Lydia began to show cracks in her carefree facade. The rest of the party was of course concerned and the Darcy family took their leave early as Mr. Darcy took it upon himself to track the scoundrel down. Georgina was saddened to have to leave the large family gathering early and both she and Kitty wept at the parting. To Mary, Miss Darcy gave real compliments towards her music and said how she regretted she could not have heard more in their time together. Thankfully she made no mention of Mr. Cartwright and the two shook hands and parted as budding acquaintances.

Days more passed and it seemed someone was hiding Wickham very well. Their loyalty to him was surprising because usually money would loosen the lips of his ilk, but no leads surfaced. Lydia declared that she had been used very ill and would not have him if he returned. Mr. Bennet wished to wash his hands of the whole matter but knew that under the eyes of his wife, his daughters, and even God that he simply would have to put up with his wayward child being in residence until after the baby was born.

Despite the tense atmosphere, there was one event that would be going forward despite the recent interruption. Kitty was to be married and to London she must go to purchase wedding clothes. Mrs. Gardiner invited Kitty and whoever else in the household was chaperoning her to stay at the Gardiner residence and plans were made. In the meantime the Bingleys took their leave as Jane felt she could do little more to calm Lydia during this time. As much as Lydia declared she was fine to ride in a carriage and simply must go to London, the town doctor disagreed and said she was to stay put for the rest of her confinement. Mrs. Bennet insisted that she had to stay with her dear child in her delicate condition and so it was put on Mary to chaperone Kitty to town where their aunt would be chaperone to both.

Mary naturally felt put upon at having to play a role in all this, but of course did not give voice to it as she might have once done. Kitty was trying to improve herself and even Lydia's unexpected return did not make her relapse into her old ways. She had become more cautious in her speech, less excitable about frivolous things, and when she was given the money for her clothes by their father, she met his eyes as he instructed her on its express purpose and nodded her head seriously. This new attitude made for a more pleasant carriage ride than Mary had been expecting and by the time they had reached London she somehow knew all there was to know about Kitty's intended and yet was not sick to death of the mention of him. Truly Kitty had grown if she had succeeded in not devolving into raptures.

The pair were greeted at the Gardiners' door by all of their cousins who had rushed out in excitement at the sight of the carriage they had been looking for through the window. Mrs. Gardiner soon joined them and all were ushered inside amid a great deal of chatter from the children. Naturally the Bennet sisters were given time to rest, but they would be attending the theater that evening and had to make ready to leave that evening. Mary disliked the speed which with things occurred in London, but she was also punctual and far from the last one downstairs to leave. Now she simply had to hope the performance was good and the crowds not too pressing. ]

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( london is a city of noise and stench — the unceasing sounds of wheels and hooves clacking over pavement strewn with garbage, the roaming masses of mingled odours, and the cries of the street peddlers selling their wares of dolls, matches, books, knives, eels, and china. it is worst at night when the streetlights are illuminated in a way that can be described as festive by only the hare-brained. it is little wonder, then, that when atticus is compelled to visit, it is for a very brief period. but this time, it could not be avoided. his publisher is based in london, as does his book agent, and so too is atticus for at least a fortnight while revisions and contracts are processed. it is all a tedious affair. one that did not apply to his previous book submissions, but as this is fated to be his last book for now (perhaps forever), they are preparing for a calamity. atticus knows little of how life in america will fare and if he will find time to deliver his musings to a postal office or even write.

if this is to be his last book then he has planned to depart from the british literary world as provocatively as he can. unlike his previous works, which were presentations and observations about foreign countries, this book is exclusively about the british countryside and the sights and sensations one must experience. it is much longer than his previous books as well; another reason why he must remain in london for this long. it takes time for a manuscript to be read, edited, returned to the author, and then resubmitted, and, in all this, atticus must remain in london. it is little wonder that his book is a call to city dwellers to leave the cities and know air without pollution and hear nought but the singing of birds and the wind in the trees. if only briefly. to inspire just one person to leave their city and return to nature would be immensely gratifying. atticus wishes he could do so, but he is restricted to london for another six days.

he stays mostly indoors at his book agent's home on drury lane, partly out of concern that he may encounter someone from his past life, but mostly because he does not like crowds and the noise and smell they carry. like it was when he permanently lived and worked in london, atticus does not attend balls, parties, or gatherings. he does not leave his room to see plays or concerts. london is at once both a caress and a strangulation. to even suggest interest in one of its baubles is to be ensnared in drudgery and inane propriety, never to glimpse the stars again.

but, as adept as he is in his excuses to stay in, it is unavoidable when one's host is so adamant and so atticus finds himself amidst a moving crowd at the theatre royal for a performance of coelina; ou, l'enfant du mystère, although it was more widely known in great britain as a tale of mystery after its translation into the vernacular. it would not have been atticus's first or last choice to see — the play being a melodrama — but as only a couple of theatres within london were allowed to operate during the winter, one could not be particular in their choice of entertainment.

as many do, they arrive quite early to the theatre to socialise in the lobby before the play begins. well, it's mr. frahm, his book agent, who does this while atticus waits near a dim corner for their box to open. he does not wish to be noticed and, while the thought occurs to him that he could slip away and escape, he also does not wish to inflict distress on mr. frahm when the gentleman has only been attentive and gracious since the beginning of their association. generally, it is foolish to ruin a business deal over some silliness like seeing a play.

but, despite mr. frahm's attentive and gracious overtures to his friends and associates in the middle of the theatre's lobby, atticus is content to remain apart and behind in the back of the theatre's lobby. )

[ While one can be somewhat shielded from the unsavory parts of the city while in a carriage, Mary is keenly aware of all that lies beyond the window. The noise and smell manage to find their way in and it's only Mrs. Gardiner's polite conversation that somewhat distracts Mary from focusing on it. Like her father, she dislikes town. They both prefer peace and silence in which to read alone, but for a great many years there was little of that to be found. At least the constant noise of the city creates a din where one cannot make out any words, unlike Longbourn where Lydia and Kitty had always been loud and their conversation topics clearly heard.

On arriving at the theater they quickly move from the carriage into the lobby before the winter's chill can effect them too much. Inside is yet another maelstrom of sound and Mary stares down at the floor, hoping the performance will begin soon. Not because she's particularly enthused by the subject matter, but because she can sit in the dark and only hear one voice at a time.

"Look, Mary! Is that not Mr. Cartwright?" Kitty's voice stirs Mary from her musings and her head lifts in alarm. ]

Surely not. Perhaps someone that looks similar or-

[ Her voice dies away as Kitty murmurs where he is in the back and her eyes land on him a moment later. "Is it not him?" Mary's breath catches in her throat, unable to respond because this is an unexpected meeting and she is having a very unexpected reaction to seeing him. Her face, neck, and decolletage flush pink immediately and that in turn embarrasses her. She quickly looks down at the floor again, trying to remember how to breathe. ]

Yes. The very same.

[ "Should we not greet an acquaintance from home?" Already Kitty is tugging on Mary's arm and the elder sister is trying not to show her alarm. Mary doesn't have anything prepared to say! She'll sound witless if she doesn't have anything prepared. But it would cause a scene to fight against Kitty's grip and so the two head over towards Mr. Cartwright while their aunt and uncle trail behind, giving each other a look.

Once before him, Kitty and Mary curtsy, the latter still pink in the face. Her gaze falls to her dress as she dips down and she realizes this is the dress she wore at Christmas. It's the nicest thing she owns so she thought it would do for the theater but he's already seen her in it and probably thinks her a very poor dresser indeed. Kitty nudges Mary. As someone who has known Mr. Cartwright far longer than Kitty has it's up to her to speak first. ]

Mr. Cartwright. I did not expect to see you here.

[ She finally lifts her gaze. Why is she so nervous? Why is she second guessing her every thought? ]

Would you permit me to introduce my relations? My aunt, Mrs. Gardiner and my uncle, Mr. Gardiner. And you remember Kitty, I am sure?

Edited (whoops, contractions aren't a thing.) 2023-06-13 22:16 (UTC)

( his called name is carried to him on a favonian wind. vexation cuts through him like the edge of a piece of paper across a finger. his sole utmost desire for the night was not to be seen and singled out, which lasted barely half an hour before being dashed. damn. damn it all. he should have tried harder to resist mr. frahm's insistence to go out.

but the feeling is momentary and surprise becomes the prominent feeling when he discovers miss bennet speaking to him. she then introduces her relatives to him. atticus is surprised and, furthering his surprise, pleased by miss bennet's presence that he cares not about being recognized. visibility is easier to endure when it is by a trusted person. he hardly recognizes her in these surroundings — in the fashionable crown jewel of the nation and a golden hall brimming with fashionable people replete in silk and jewels. the last they saw each other was christmas eve, over a fortnight ago, at longbourn. the party had been cut abruptly by mr. bennet when it became evident that mrs. bennet and her daughter were determined to argue over sleeping arrangements ad infinitum. atticus was glad he did so and expressed his joy by bellowing out a sea shanty on the ride home. his singing voice was better then, but barely so. )

Miss Bennet. ( he smiles, a note of surprise in his voice. ) Of course. I am honoured to make their acquaintance. ( he bows at mr. and mrs. gardiner and then does the same for miss kitty. ) And to remake Miss Kitty's.

( atticus takes no note of the colour or style of miss bennet's dress. for his part, beneath his black wool tailcoat jacket is the same silk damask waistcoat he wore at christmas, glittering gold even in the dim candlelight. black is not a colour he often wears (preferring striking colours to his father's saturnine). still, he thought it most appropriate to wear something darker and less conspicuous at the theatre tonight. what doesn't escape his notice, however, are the furtive glances exchanged by the gardiners to each other and then to miss bennet. as their expressions are aloof, it is impossible to infer the meaning behind the looks and their thoughts of him. atticus has no doubts that word of his reputation has reached london one way or another as either censure or amusement. it matters little to him. miss bennet appears glad to see him, and only her opinion is of any importance to him. )

Are any additional Bennets here tonight? ( or in london, though if there were more, he thinks his ears should be burning. )

No, sir. My sister and I are all of the Longbourn party that are here.

[ It's impossible not to think of the relief such news will bring him to hear that neither her mother nor Lydia are in the city. On the one hand, Mary wishes she could be more favorable towards her mother, but on the other the woman makes it so difficult to do so. ]

We have only just arrived today. Have you been in London long?

[ She knows that is the expected question a young lady is to ask an acquaintance whose travel plans are unknown, but it seems so unnecessary a thing to delve into for politeness' sake. She wants to know if he's been to any concerts, been to bookshops or the circulating library. She wants to know if he plans to rush off to the continent again and if so, when she might chance to see him again. ]

( indeed, such news of mrs bennet and mrs wickham's absences does bring a small measure of relief. their behaviour would only spawn further vexation. )

A week. ( which, to him, is long. far too long. ) And for another week I stay.

( atticus also wishes to know how long miss bennet intends to stay in london and if an itinerary has been formulated yet. although he is not keen on the city, he would join her on a trip to finsbury square to the temple of muses, one of the most famous and prestige bookshops in england. he finds it would not be so onerous if it is with and for miss bennet. but it seems inappropriate to inquire and discuss her plans in this formal environment, surrounded by her relatives who, although not intended, taint their reunion with their presence and looks. it does not escape him that he is an object of interest to them.

in the dim light, miss kitty nudges her aunt's arm and shoots her a look, all under the assumption of discretion. she wants to say something to him and wants her aunt too. questions swarm around him like butterflies to a patch of flowers. but what question exactly does miss kitty and mrs gardiner wish to ask?

their opportunity, however, is dashed when atticus's name is called again. this time, it brings him greater pleasure as it's mr frahm summoning him so that they may go to their box. before his book agent reaches him (and forces atticus to introduce him to the group), atticus bows, glancing at miss bennet and the rest of her party but letting his gaze linger on miss bennet. ) Excuse me. I hope you enjoy this evening's performance.

( he leaves and quickly finds mr frahm in the crowd of people. )

[ As quickly as the meeting begins, it concludes and Mary curtsies politely as he takes his leave. The rest of her family do the same and as soon as he's gone, Kitty grabs Mary's arm, talking excitedly about having seen him here and how she will have to write to Georgiana about him. For a brief moment that unsettles Mary, but she recovers quickly and gives a slight incline of her head. ]

Yes. How strange to come across him in so large a place.

[ Her aunt begins to question her on the gentleman as Uncle Gardiner leads the way to their box and Mary finds that there is really little she can tell about the mysterious gentleman. ]

He lives in a cottage with his dog.

[ "A cottage? He must not keep a large staff." ]

No, he has no staff.

[ Aunt Gardiner's surprise is apparent. "Indeed. He must enjoy quite an independent lifestyle." ]

Very much so. I believe that is part of why Papa gets on with him so well.

[ "He seemed in such a hurry, though," Kitty muses. "I hope we might speak with him at the intermission." Then addressing their aunt she adds: "Papa invited him to Christmas dinner and he made such a fool of himself for a lark. Or rather, to distract Lydia for how she goes on, you know. He plonked at the pianoforte keys and sang horribly. It was all incredibly diverting."

Mary remembers it a little differently, knowing that Kitty and everyone else was cringing at his performance while Mary felt deep gratitude for him coming to her rescue. But she doesn't bother to correct her sister. The party finds their box and seat themselves and as Mary looks out across the theater she sees Mr. Cartwright in his box across the way. Feeling her cheeks grow hot, she lowers her gaze to her program as the opening music begins. Thankfully the production provides a good distraction. Unfortunately it's because it's not very good and Mary is thinking up critiques in her head. ]

( atticus catches mr frahm before the book agent notices miss bennet and her relatives, and they go to his box. as social as mr frahm is, he prefers to watch his shows alone, so it is only he and atticus sitting in the box tonight. it is fortunate because it means that atticus needn't experience the pinprick of irritation of someone attempting to pry conversation from him; unfortunately, he does not have someone to whom he can muse his scathing opinions of the show. mr frahm is an excellent fan of melodramas, especially those by pixérécourt, so he cannot voice his comments to him. before, atticus could not say with any conviction if he was a fan of the playwright, but after tonight's performance, he can now say that he is not. the first hour meanders as if on a leisurely walk on a hot sunday afternoon, but finally, intermission arrives.

during the brief fifteen minutes, atticus remains in the box alone. his companion is mindful of his inclination towards reclusion and socialises outside in the hallway and gallery of the theatre. but, truthfully, honestly, amongst this sea of people talking, laughing, and converging, atticus is joyless — and embarrassed by his affliction. tonight, for the first time, he is keenly aware of his separation. he drifts away from land on a boat crewed only by himself, and the further out to sea he sails, the less warmth he senses. before long, he will find himself a complete castaway with nought but seawater to quench him.

mr frahm returns, and so does the play. the last act is more thrilling than the previous two but not more intricate when the villain is brought to book after a spectacular chase by the forces of justice up a stream and across a waterfall. the design of this scene, atticus will admit, is majestic as the water cascades down the wooden sets.

the next time atticus meets miss bennet is after the show when the crowd is filing from their boxes and seats to their carriages outside, still talking, laughing, and converging. mr frahm has been detained with farewells and promises of visits by his friends, so atticus is alone once again. )

[ An evening at the theater is standard for the Gardiners and though Kitty experienced no such things while in Derbyshire, there were still social engagements and activity aplenty to stimulate her interests in being seen and listened in. Tonight, Kitty watches the performance with excitement, turning to her aunt to whisper her thoughts every few minutes once it became clear Mary wasn't listening. And indeed, Mary finds she would greatly prefer being at the Gardiner residence, perhaps seated at the pianoforte or retiring early to read. This place simply is not to her taste. The jokes do not land with her and with every rumble of laughter or astonishment from the crowd she is reminded that her tastes are quite different.

By the time the performance ends she is more than ready to leave and walks out into the lobby with a blank face that has experienced no enjoyment. The press of people here concerns her, so as her uncle goes to inquire after the carriage, the ladies try and find refuge in a less crowded corner, which just so happens to put them in the path of Mr. Cartwright. The ladies curtsy to him and right away Kitty asks how he liked the play, adding in that most of their party enjoyed it while smiling at Mary. Thinking she must defend herself, she states: ]

It was a perfectly serviceable performance from all involved and the physical demands of their roles must be commended - especially in the last act. But I confess beyond that I found little in it to recommend it.

( as if by providence, atticus encounters miss bennet and her party once again and, once again, he is not unhappy about it. his spine is barely straightened from bowing when miss kitty asks for his opinion on the play. it is little surprising that she enjoyed it. mr bennet had spoken briefly and harshly regarding his two youngest daughters' fondness for frivolous novels and la belle assemblée. it is also little surprising that miss bennet disfavored the play. their opinions on art and literature parallel each other like two birds in the air.

despite the abrupt question from miss kitty, atticus smiles, and he does not give off the impression that he is put upon or off by it. ) I admit I am unfamiliar with today's theatre or Monsieur Pixérécourt, but I must agree with Miss Bennet. Its conventions were false, its language stilted, its characters tedious, and its morality a gross simplification. ( he does not however want to be too uncharitable towards the play, and so he adds without much hesitation, ) And yet I can understand its appeal. The playwright takes the lives of common people seriously.

( monsieur pixérécourt offered himself for judgement, and whether or not the play has merits, it is commendable for that fact alone. the belief shared on christmas eve was not only for miss bennet's comfort but a truly held conviction for atticus.

"what an astute review, mr cartwright. are you a critic?" mrs gardiner asks. in her tone, he detects neither censure nor ridicule — just a curiosity to uncover a piece of him. )

I am not, ma'am. It is merely a strong awareness of my partialities. ( he glances around to the crowd around them. most are smiling and laughing, having thoroughly been entertained by the play. ) But I am glad to hear that most enjoy his works. He offers more value than I do with my critique.

( mr gardiner reappears then, cheerfully announcing that the carriage is being brought up. when he realises the identity of the gentleman his party are speaking to, he bows and greets atticus with a smile. like the others, he also appears pleased to see him and asks his opinion of the play.

atticus laughs. ) We were discussing that. Miss Bennet and I are of one mind while Mrs Gardiner and Miss Kitty are of the other. What of yours, sir?

[ It is somewhat relieving to hear that Mr. Cartwright's views mirror her own. Mary finds that she has absorbed a great deal of wisdom from him and has adjusted her worldview as a result so to be at odds with him as to their tastes here would have been unfortunate.

Thankfully that is not the case, and as Mr. Gardiner gives a measured response as to the merits of the play with a bit of sensible critique here and there, Mary can't help but be pleased to have relations who have good sense. If anything, she's surprised that at no point does Kitty butt in to press her point but instead listens to all views. It seems these past six or seven months that both sisters have grown.

"All valid points, my dear," Mrs. Gardiner replies. "I believe my sensibilities give more leeway for stories regarding the average person as opposed to nobility or higher." She smiles politely at Mr. Cartwright before a thought occurs to her. "Might I trouble you to join us for tea tomorrow? With such friendship between yourself and Mary, you two should have the opportunity to converse while in London."

Mary feels the flash of heat across her face at the invitation and struggles for an explanation. ]

You are, of course, a friend of my father, but I did mention that you and I performed together at Christmas and that... that I did... I do count you as a friend.

[ Her throat feels very dry all of a suddenly. She would love a glass of water right now. ]

As much as is appropriate for us to be, of course.

[ ~~Nailed it.~~ ]

( just as atticus opened his mouth to respond, miss bennet interjects. his brow lifts, pithy in its meaning, when he looks at her. she needn't offer justification or explanation for their association. her mother is not here to take offence. unless now, when in the company of her aunt and uncle in london, does miss bennet begin to see the offence of his rank and in their friendship. if that is indeed true, then atticus can only place fault that it took her this long to arrive at that conclusion. it would have been better at the beginning before he formed an attachment with her.

an easy smile hides the turmoil beating in his chest like cannon fire, and he finally responds to mrs gardiner, ) It is no trouble, madam. I shall be delighted.

( just then, the gardiners' carriage arrives and they all bid farewell. atticus bows, eyes not straying to miss bennet as is their custom. ) Until tomorrow.

( he takes his leave and is gratified to discover his friend so close by. however, mr frahm finds atticus in an acerbic temper during their reassemblage and on the carriage ride to his apartment on drury lane. they say nothing to each other, aside from a brief comment by mr frahm on the assessment of the play, to which atticus agrees. like his feelings, he will keep his opinion buried and hidden until he can find safety in the dark privacy of his room.

when they arrive back on drury lane, mr frahm suggests a nightcap. for the past eight nights, atticus had accepted the offer, although he does not drink alcohol. he partook in tea while his friend drank brandy. this night, however, atticus declines and announces that he is going to bed, giving a little excuse that the trip to the theatre has proven to be more exhausting than anticipated. in a way, he is truthful.

he goes to bed and stews safely in the dark privacy of his room, regretting accepting mrs gardiner's invitation to tea. there, he and miss bennet would be expected to talk and converse as if they were friends. but friends they are not if miss bennet's clumsy interjection was to be understood. she would not have bothered to clarify their connection to her aunt and uncle if it was not as it seemed.

after some hours laying in bed, atticus finally falls asleep, while the dim glow from streetlights and the echo of wheels and hooves clacking over pavement do not halt. )

[ On the carriage ride home, Mary stares off at nothing as she revisits what she's said. How strange it is to have desired attention all her life and yet when the focus is placed upon her she wilts like a flower in a summer drought, unable to truly thrive. Had she not prepared to be looked at, talked about, thought of by others? She cannot understand why she floundered so considerably.

Mrs. Gardiner notices Mary's demeanor and leans forward a little to place her hand over her niece's asking if all is well. Mary starts at the contact, nodding immediately. ]

Yes. Quite well.

[ Kitty watches the interaction with a thoughtful expression. "Perhaps Mary is unused to the crowds. Indeed, neither of us are used to such a press of people as can be found here." Mary quietly agrees though she's not sure that's entirely it. It has something to do with Mr. Cartwright himself. Why was she so startled to see him and react as she did? It's as if when the two are removed from the location where they met and conversed, it seems like the first time all over again. At home they had... privacy of a kind. Here she felt like an underdressed country girl talking to a handsome man in a fancy waistcoat. And why exactly did she care what others thought? She has no answer to that, but it feels like regression.

Her sleep that night is equally troubled as she's not quite sure why she can't be herself in London. Mary doesn't understand why she cares once more. Her sleep is interrupted by tossing and turning and the next day she certainly appears as though she's not had enough sleep. The day passes slowly as she entertains her cousins while Kitty and their aunt go out and their uncle goes to work. But the time of Mr. Cartwright's arrival, Mary's dark circles have cleared up and she is ready to meet with him. However, to her surprise her uncle arrives with a stranger for tea, who expressed interest in meeting his employer's nieces. A Mr. Hickinbottom bows low before the Bennet sisters and pays them every due respect before seating himself and immediately starting a conversation. There is the standard "How long have you been in London?" and "How long do you plan to stay in London?" and once Kitty reveals their purpose for being there - namely, her upcoming nuptials - his eyes suddenly slide away from Kitty to Mary, where they remain throughout tea.

Mary, however, is too preoccupied with glancing Mr. Cartwright's way to notice. She ventures to ask him: ]

I hope you have had a productive day, sir?

[ Whether attending to business or relaxing at a gentleman's club, men always seem to consider themselves productive. ]

( when he awakens at half-past seven, the storm that had ravaged his mind the previous night has faded. the water is calm, and the sun shines brightly in the clear sky. as he rises and begins the day, two interpretations of the previous night form in his mind, both dreadful in their possibility. the first is that removed from her natural habitat miss bennet returned to the wilted flower. convictions are hills from which one looks, and miss bennet stood proudly on hers to not concern herself with the judgement of others. but, in the presence of her aunt and uncle, she hid in a cave and the conviction was a shadow on the wall. the second and most distressing prospect is that miss bennet saw him as nothing more than a bauble to amuse and distract herself from the idleness that comes from country living. now in the city, vibrant with sophistication and entertainment, she has no use for him and so snubbed him. the thought of this arouses such heat within him that he almost drops the pitcher while pouring water into the basin. but the splash of cool water across his face douses the flame enough that reason ultimately prevails.

as he pulls on a pair of tan trousers, conclusions emerge like a fleet of ships through the fog. miss bennet is still a young woman, hardly twenty, with little understanding of the world. therefore, some allowances must be made. regardless of the accuracy of either case, he should not feel wholly insulted at actions caused by inexperience or immaturity. at her age, atticus cannot say he behaved any more wisely. indeed at his current age, barely nine years older, he has again conducted himself unwisely.

if the sins of inexperience and ignorance can explain her behaviour, then atticus will act with the prudence which needs to be learned only once after placing one's hand too close to a sharp blade or a dog's mouth. distance, both physically and emotionally, will need to be maintained. he will no longer burden miss bennet with his presence or conversation. in situations where he cannot help but see her, he will be polite and cordial; but he will maintain his distance. soon, no grievance will pass through him, and they will be indifferent acquaintances until he leaves in several months. and then, none of this will matter.

his morning is spent hunched over the small desk in his room, cutting and folding coloured paper into flowers. these flowers, which were crude but are becoming progressively neat and sophisticated as he improves, will be tied together around a circular piece of wood to make a permanent wreath for mr frahm. it is a small gratitude from atticus to his book agent for his diligence and discretion in the past two years. at a quarter to noon, atticus puts down the penknife and finishes dressing. when he leaves a half hour later, he appears every bit the fashionable gentleman: a black top hat, a single-breasted wine-coloured tailcoat, a houndstooth waistcoat, and an intricately tied cravat. he blends into the london afternoon crowd and walks nearly two miles from drury lane to cheapside.

atticus is courteous to mrs gardiner and her nieces when he is shown to the parlour by the housekeeper. a smile and a compliment about the parlour's decoration are enough to divert her from questioning his parlour's decoration and situation. the arrival of mr gardiner and his clerk for tea is a relief. mr hickinbottom's presence will distract the others and miss bennet, removing pressure on atticus's behalf to engage in conversation. the feeling, however, is fleeting, similar to the steam wafting from atticus's tea as he blows on it. his green eyes, which were lackadaisical when he arrived, narrow at mr hickinbottom across the round table, idly stirring cream and sugar into his tea.

miss bennet's question draws his attention away from the clerk. when they began sitting for tea, atticus endeavoured to sit next to miss kitty so that neither he nor miss bennet felt obligated to converse with each other. alas, mr hickinbottom, cunning in mind and movement, sat in the chair before he could, determined to be next to the bennet sister he found most attractive. atticus believes it's not only the clerk who had an ideal seating in mind. when he sat next to miss bennet, the gardiners' smiles at each other from across the table were too relevant to be considered an act of chance.

the high collar of his shirt is like a cage, hindering him from fully turning his gaze to miss bennet. it is better that he cannot do so; he will not have to see the circles beneath her eyes, dark like shadows in the night, and trouble himself with concern as to the reason for their appearance. ) Quite productive, thank you.

( atticus sips his tea, scrutinizing mr hickinbottom under the guise of admiring a landscape painting behind his head. mr gardiner's clerk is an assemblage of browns: brown hair, brown jacket, brown waistcoat, brown nose, and a brown biscuit at his mouth, the cogs turning in his mind as to what to say to pull miss bennet's attention to him. atticus has known many hickinbottoms. at trinity college, at the attorney general's office, and even in his life of vagrancy. they hasten to be rich and powerful, and the only consideration weighing on their minds is how to achieve it as quickly and easily as possible. some steal it, some buy it, and some marry into it. with mr hickinbottom's discreet questions and stare at miss bennet, it is not difficult to determine which route he will be taking.

just as mr hickinbottom finishes chewing and is about to speak, atticus thwarts the attempt by asking miss kitty, ) Will Mr Hamilton's family be down for the wedding?

( as her fiancé originally hails from the north of edinburgh, atticus does not know if his entire family will attend the wedding or just his immediate members. miss kitty confirms the latter, explaining that because of the size of his family and their obligations, it would be impossible for all to attend but that the plan for the young couple was to travel to dundee a month after the wedding. although atticus finds the business of weddings tedious, the glow radiating from miss kitty as she effuses about her upcoming nuptials and trip is endearing.

mrs gardiner asks about their lodging while in dundee, and miss kitty replies that they will stay at his family's home on the city's outskirts. a pause in the conversation then surfaces, settling on the table like water approaching the shore. mr hickinbottom takes it as an opportunity to ask if miss kitty's wedding meant that all the bennet sisters were now wed. as if he doesn't already know. )

[ It's strange to be having a tea where silence is allowed to fall upon the party. At home, her mother cannot stand for there to be a moment's pause where she isn't making her opinions known or trying to draw the conversation back to herself and her feelings. The pause gives time to formulate polite questions or conversation, which Mary appreciates as she's never possessed the sharp wit that would allow for a quick comment.

In the brief moment they all have their thoughts to themselves after Mr. Cartwright answers, Mary considers their new acquaintance. He seems amiable enough, but there is something in his air that troubles her. Having spent so little time around men in such a setting, she's unsure if it's simply her inexperience with them or if it's something to do with his character. The questions he ask seem standard, but also as though he's collecting information. For what purpose, she cannot say, but his next question troubles her. Why does he address such a question to Kitty, especially when logically he must already know the answer? Immediately her hackles rise and she feels the sting of insult. He knows very well Mary is not married so such a question must have been posed to mock her.

Kitty herself looks slightly confused by the question and after a brief stumble of the mind, she replies, "No, not all."

Mary has never been prone to outbursts of great feeling. Even when overcome she tries to bear it in silence. So as she now turns her attentions towards Mr. Hickinbottom, her voice is decidedly cool and her expression neutral. ]

As I was recently introduced to you as Miss Bennet, you are well aware of my status. Our other three sisters are married.

[ Mr. Hickinbottom gives her the sort of gentle smile that is meant to placate and his eyes soften considerably. "Perhaps providence has declared that the best shall be saved for last." It's such a bold statement that Kitty's hand stops halfway towards a scone and Mrs. Gardiner looks at her husband in surprise. He seems less affected - or at least knows the man well enough to not be surprised by his words - and his returning glance seems to soothe his wife. Mary on the other hand, straightens her back and stares back at Mr. Hickinbottom, still sure she's being mocked even as a tiny flutter appears in her stomach. Words such as those are used for great beauties who have been shut away, lest they be swept off their feet as soon as they are out. They are not used for plain girls who have been passed over and not even considered an option.

Mrs. Gardiner quickly steers the conversation towards music and theater, speaking of the performance they watched the night before. It takes awhile for Mr. Hickinbottom to draw his challenging gaze away from Mary's but once he does he begins to speak on the theater, while eyes occasionally drift back to Mary to gauge her facial expressions as he speaks. A few times he stops partway through his opinion to shift it to match her face, each time smoothly finding a way to negate what he previously said. "Yes, his works are rather illuminating... to some, I am sure. I can see how they might think so, but those with superior minds can see little in it."

This mental chess is somewhat lost on Mary, who wonders at his way of starting sentences only to change direction halfway through. She sips at her tea and looks around the table to see what everyone else thinks of this verbose gentleman. Kitty seems just as confused as Mary, unable to work him out. In a way, that makes him appear fascinating, as though he is a mystery to uncover. Mary's eyes slide to Mr. Cartwright. Much like this man, in fact, who chooses to keep so much hidden and unknown. Could anyone ever truly come to know or understand him? ]

( after the previous night, he is satisfied to let mr hickinbottom wheedle and shift direction as a worm through soil. indeed, he is satisfied enough to let miss bennet act as the unfortunate beneficiary of the man's fulsome accolades. as a friend, atticus would privately express concern about the man's behaviour and hint that all seek camaraderie elsewhere. but he had caught himself, as one does before they plunge down a steep embankment, and is wiser of obstacles that can harm. it is of no concern to him now. if mr gardiner is inclined to tolerate a snake in his garden, then atticus shan't contradict him. it is none of his concern.

and yet, content is too favourable a word to describe the emotions agitating within his head like a carriage across a rough road. atticus cannot help but listen to mr hickinbottom's attempts to ingratiate himself into miss bennet's good favour and immediately discern the meaning beneath it. he is shameless of indecorousness, yet vigilant enough to appear polite. if mr gardiner is unconcerned about the gentleman, it could lend credence to his behaviour. for those of good conscience, like atticus, it is necessary to bring any further attempts to a standstill before another certain event takes place. the bennet family does not need another daughter saddled with a worthless man.

and so, when mr hickinbottom speaks to and looks at miss bennet, atticus is of two minds — it is none yet entirely of his concern. perhaps however, it is not who mr hickinbottom speaks to and looks at, but the manner of his speaking and looking that ignites a dislike in atticus. his expression is perfectly schooled to hide his flaring irritation as he asks mr hickinbottom, ) It would seem, sir, that you command a far-reaching perspective. May I ask whether this sense is intrinsic or the result of immense effort?

( mr hickinbottom blinks, the prick of offence at his brain and a surge of vanity in his heart. nothing in mr cartwright's countenance suggests he spoke with contempt, but at the slight pinch of his brows, mr hickinbottom suffers the impression that the man sees him as nothing more than a bug beneath his shoe. taking a sip of his tea to gather his thoughts, he responds, "it is all by the grace of god, but i am of the mind that everything of merit should be gained by immense effort.")

I imagine that is advantageous for those in trade. Particularly nowadays. ( despite napoleon's decree forbidding all imports from great britain into france and its allies, extensive smuggling through spain and russia made it ineffective. an act designed to doom great britain's economy has instead doomed france and spurred the royal navy to seek replacement trade in north and south america. if their home is any indication, the act did not affect the gardiners. ) Is that so, Mr Gardiner? ( atticus lifts his cup to his lips, glancing at the gentleman as he drinks.

mr gardiner agrees that it is so and then asks if he is in the business himself. trade is a respectable profession that provides a comfortable living. good when times are good, and still good when it's not, provided one practised prudence. he wishes for all his nieces to live comfortably. )

No, sir. My stamina is elsewhere.

[ Mr. Cartwright's response makes Mrs. Gardiner's gaze twitch to her husband's but as he does not yet return her look she refocuses on the man himself. She had had an inkling that this man might do for Mary, but there is something altogether mysterious about him that she does not like.

"Is your home near Meryton your main residence, sir?"

Mary is honestly curious as to his answer to this question as well. Had he been leasing somewhere, or had he fallen on hard times and given up an estate? Ordinarily such questions don't enter her mind but in those early days of his arrival to the neighborhood Mrs. Bennet was beside herself trying to figure him out. The gossips brought her no news at all as if he had deliberately tried to hide his movements. And her mother's questions about the man had stuck with Mary all this time. What is known is that he has the income to live comfortably, but he also visited the continent and now London. One could be for business and the other pleasure, but he's hard to figure out.

Indeed, Mr. Hickinbottom is quietly coming up with likely scenarios in his head as to who this man who just insulted him is. Probably some disgraced, disinherited heir to an old widow who is relaxing in a cottage until the old crone sees reason. ]

I have not heard you speak of any other home.

[ Mary quietly comments on this before sipping at her tea. ]

( after resigning his commission and disembarking the ship in corfu, atticus travelled to ithaca, newly liberated from napoleon by the british, and, in a folly exhibited only by youth flushed for the first time with an independent exuberance, purchased a villa on the southwest region of the island. he was determined to stay there henceforth, peaceful in both words and actions until his last days. but, as time progressed, it was not ithaca that called him, but england.

england. england.

as there is nought sweeter than a man's own country, he returned to the green and pleasant land after barely a year in ithaca. the villa nestled on a golden beach is still in his name, yet atticus hardly counts it among his possessions. he doubts he will ever see it again. particularly now that something else calls him. it is america, he believes, that ignites a yearning in his heart. to such an extent that he doubts he will ever see his other home again. although it is bound to him by blood (indeed, owed to him by blood), atticus is so unlike the man that last beheld it that he would hardly recognise the land. )

As my lifestyle is akin to that of a black tern, the necessity for owning more than one residence is impractical. My house in Meryton is merely a place to hang my hat, so it is my only one. ( before there is a chance to inquire deeper into his cryptic and confusing words, he asks mr and mrs gardiner, ) Are you great travellers?

( as atticus sips his tea, mrs gardiner confirms but then clarifies that yes, when they have the opportunity, they do travel often, but it is mostly to visit their nieces in derbyshire. they are not, she says, great travellers like he is. the corner of his mouth lifts, and his head bends in acknowledgement of the compliment. all during tea, atticus noticed the looks exchanged between mrs gardiner and her husband. the meaning behind it is still a mystery to him, but he supposes it is most likely because of the mystery of himself. )

Do you travel much yourself, Mr Hickinbottom? ( not that atticus cares for his answer. he only asks to keep the conversation flowing and the focus off from him. )

[ She supposes she should have seen talk of travel coming and once again Mary knows she will be lost during the conversation. Her movements are so few, her experiences so nonexistent that everyone must talk amongst themselves as if she is not there. This city is the farthest she's ever traveled and will likely not be beaten.

But now she feels rather inadequate by comparison. Kitty has been far to the north, her aunt is from there as well, and Mr. Cartwright has been to the continent. Her eyes lower to the table as she's sure Mr. Hickinbottom has traveled vastly too.

However, the man in question is naturally looking her way to observe her mood and how she finds this conversation. He comes to a conclusion and says: "Not much, no. I am a businessman through and through and wheresoever business might take me I would be happy to go, but I prefer to stay close to home." And then as if he is testing the waters, he adds while reaching for a biscuit: "I think perhaps Miss Bennet prefers to be close to home too."

She looks up, startled. When had she given any indication of that? How could he know such things? She isn't sure whether to be embarrassed and feel exposed or to be impressed at his astute observations. Mary inclines her head slightly. ]

I have often preferred to remain behind as travel does not suit me. However, were I not so wary of poor roads and weather, there are a few places I should like to see. Someday.

( as he is already cognizant of miss bennet's opinions towards travel, he pays little mind to her speak. if the setting, company, and present mood were altered to conditions where he felt comfortable, atticus would have spoken in favour of travel, regardless of its displeasures. yes, poor roads and weather are nuisances even for an experienced traveller such as himself, and there are further displeasures that miss bennet neglected to mention. but the destination and, most importantly, the experience make up for it. even when the destination does not reach one's lofty expectations, the journey usually provides a few good tales. for atticus, anecdotes are the most valuable currency in his current livelihood, and why he reserves his most interesting for the written word.

although he suspects that most of the present company would find amusement in his stories, he withholds further discussion or elaboration regarding his travels. it is because of the man he regards as an ingrown nail: flat, hard, and full of irritation. mr hickinbottom is neither deserving of his diversion nor his esteem. and so atticus keeps any joy or entertainment he may provide to himself like a miser with money.

atticus smiles, tight like the drawing of a bow, and his eyes are set on mr hickinbottom when he reaches for another biscuit. for himself, atticus has not eaten any biscuits or morsels situated so elegantly on the floral patterned tablecloth. at the moment, his appetite can tolerate only tea, black tea. that, however, is not unusual as he prefers to savour the natural and unaltered taste of tea. when he drinks tea, generally tea made by someone's hand, he sits up in his seat with his shoulders straightened back and appears like a lord surveying his holdings )

Indeed, sir. From the first moment of our acquaintance, I detected in you a business acumen. ( his warm smile belies the arrow grazing across mr hickinbottom's hair. declaring oneself to be a businessman "through and through" is not something to boast about. the claim suggests a callousness and pridefulness that warrants only condemnation. ) With the army's recent victory on the peninsula, surely you will set your eyes elsewhither for business?

( mr gardiner interjects, commenting that if the combined forces of great britain, portugal, and spain continued their campaign against napoleon with the same speed and alacrity as they have already, it shan't be long before that suggestion becomes a reality. he mentions reading a report that morning in the newspaper about the commander of the british forces, sir arthur wellelsey, setting his army on the remaining pockets of french soldiers that had fled beyond the pyrenees to regroup under marshal general soult.

although he remains abreast of the war through newspapers and rumours, atticus declines to offer anything to the conversation, which draws in mrs gardiner and mr hickinbottom. while his time in the royal navy did not expose him to the extent of carnage that the soldiers on the peninsula have witnessed, atticus still experienced enough to placate any fantasy of vainglory or patriotism that one might feel when they read of wellelsey's accomplishments. )

[ The topic turns to the war and though Mary has no great love of such news, she also wants to keep abreast of the latest happenings. One cannot be educated who buries her head in the sand. Naturally some of the conversation will be more than she can be expected to understand, but she listened nonetheless. Mr. Hickinbottom turns his gaze towards her, reads her carefully, and works on drawing her into the conversation slowly. For her part, Kitty has little interest in such news and though once she would feign interest only to hear of brave soldiers in red coats, now she sips at her tea and examines her dress for stray hairs or lint.

"They say it will all be over soon," Mr. Hickinbottom says. "Napoleon's mistakes have been grave indeed and he cannot hope to win now. Peace will return soon." His manner is almost placating, as if Mary showed something in her expression that seemed worried. For all his observations the man couldn't know that Mary's default face is always pulled down slightly into a frown. ]

Yes that seemed quite apparent after he decimated his forces by marching into Russia.

[ The gentleman blinks a little in surprise at the calmness with which she says this. ]

I wish you and my uncle success in any future endeavors, but I can speak no more on the business aspect of things.

[ Uncle Gardiner cheerfully agrees that this is no topic for tea and moves on to ask if Kitty will be purchasing her wedding clothes soon. The girl perks up at the conversation being directed towards her and confirms that the ladies will be going out on the morrow to do just that. Now it's Mary's turn to feel bored by the conversation, though she doesn't start examining herself as Kitty did. Instead she looks towards Mr. Cartwright, hoping to catch his eye if only for a moment. His green gaze has not directed itself towards her all afternoon and she finds she feels rather glum about it. He could have a very good reason, but she cannot work out what it might be. ]

( noticing miss bennet's deliberate and constant glances at mr cartwight, mr hickinbottom hides his frown behind his teacup. if he was indeed correct in his belief that mr cartwright enjoys some inheritance of sort, miss bennet might find him the more attractive prospect. so, to alleviate his doubt, mr hickinbottom asks, "are you married, mr cartwright?"

atticus's jaw clenches. ) I am not. ( his head turns to miss bennet's direction but, as his gaze is down, he does not look at her. ) Matrimony is of no interest to me. ( the former statement is spoken entirely for the benefit of mr and mrs gardiner. whatever friendship (however one-sided) remains between their niece and mr cartwright is nothing more than platonic. nothing more than two strangers who spend an hour together in the dusty, sunlit aisles of a bookstore before forever parting. neither needs to concern that his intentions are anything but proper and ordinary.

matrimony is an indulgence not for atticus. but, in moments of escape, he has considered the characteristics his ideal mate must possess. independence, for one. not merely independent of pursuits but of mind and judgement. she would not dictate her life around others' opinions, even his. secondly and naturally, they must share similar interests and views on morality. he could not spend his life with someone who does not love music and literature as he does. lastly, she must carry within her a vagabond spirit equal to his own. he would no longer travel alone but with a companion who would partake in the same joy and misery as he.

alas, none of this will come to pass. a woman of intelligence and education would not have him as he is without money or title, and any woman willing to have him without money or title would possess the intelligence and education he desires. and so atticus does not submit himself to the agony of this fanciful notion. it would be more pragmatic to imagine himself flying.

mr hickinbottom's mind eases from mr cartwright's declaration. although the challenge of securing miss bennet persists, at least now he needs not worry that mr cartwright is also a participant for her affection. as far as he has gathered, miss bennet has no additional attachments or prospects. )

[ Naturally there had been rumors around Meryton as to why the gentleman was unattached, but no one ever really gave them serious weight. A man could be near forty and still unmarried if he chose, and people would not speak ill of it the way they would if the subject was a woman. Still, hearing the words from his lips hits Mary in a completely unexpected way. Her expression remains neutral but on the inside it feels as though she's been drenched in cold water. Why such an admission as that should cause such a reaction should be a mystery to her. She should find it strangely odd and remain detached from it all. But no. In this moment she knows exactly what she's feeling. It's disappointment. And immediately she scolds herself for it. Disappointment implies she had held any sort of hope for herself and that is some fanciful wish she won't indulge in at all.

In trying to force her mind away from the thought, another strays in. This is a good thing. Were he married, they couldn't remain friends. Were she married, they couldn't remain friends. His preference ensures that nothing need change between them and realizing this relaxes her. No, it is not a bad thing at all. ]

While matrimony is the seemingly singular goal of all women, men are at the distinct advantage to not be required to do so if they have no wish to.

[ It's said in that way Mary has where she inserts herself into the conversation without preamble and goes on until her point is made. ]

And I can see little advantage to Mr. Cartwright marrying if he is content as he is, while I see a great disadvantage were he to wed. That being that he and I would no longer be able to socialize as friends. As we do now.

[ The statement makes Kitty titter with laughter. "Why, Mary, I had no idea you'd want to keep a man from marrying!" Mary purses her lips a moment. ]

I am keeping him from nothing. He made his standpoint clear. I merely observed that I was in approval of it.

[ "For your own selfish reasons," Kitty adds, though there is no heat to it, merely amusement. Mary doesn't see how what she's pointed out was wrong. ]

I was merely supporting his convictions.

[ Throughout the exchange, Mr. Hickinbottom has been trying to figure out a way to impress upon Miss Bennet the delights of matrimony, thinking Mr. Cartwright's position would be anathema to her. Instead he finds her in approval of the statement. He's trying to course correct like a fisherman coming across brambles hanging over the water. He needs to steer away before he's stuck. ]

( yet again, mr hickinbottom demonstrates to be a creature worthy of contempt as his simple question unleashes a torrent of debate between miss bennet and her sister. uneasy about the discussion and being the centre of it, atticus shifts in his seat. his hair conceals his ears reddening to a similar colour to his jacket. he did not speak the words to gain favour or to generate conversation. whether or not the others approve of his decision matters little to him. it is his life, and if he decides never to experience the bliss of matrimony, then so be it. he will seek fulfilment elsewhere.

and, as he is without designs to marry, he cannot have an opinion on if married people are welcome to associate with unmarried people of the opposite sex. he cannot think of any reason why not, so long as the association was entirely friendly with no intent of adultery. a change in marital status should not mean the loss of a friendship. as women have nothing but a rage to live, they should be allowed to grab happiness from whither they can.

remaining silent, atticus focuses on his tea and wishes that someone would break the hush that has settled at the table with a change in conversation. yet again, mr hickinbottom demonstrates to be a creature who cannot tolerate a moment without the sound of his voice as he asks miss kitty and miss bennet about meryton, longbourn, and their parents. despite the contempt that clouds his view of mr hickinbottom, atticus is, to an extent, grateful that the man has decided to steer away from talk of matrimony to another topic of discussion.

at the risk of appearing too forward, mr hickinbottom chose to direct his interest to her background and life. if miss bennet could speak about herself, he would then know what to discuss and in what manner. but it is miss kitty who cheerfully answers his questions, either unaware or indifferent to mr hickinbottom's attempt to induce her sister to converse with him.

when she mentions that longbourn is a mile from meryton and mr cartwright's home, mr gardiner asks, "i understand you stay at mr cawthon's former fishing lodge, mr cartwright."

atticus nods, and his voice is relieved of the uneasiness he felt only a few minutes prior. ) Aye, sir. But the pond it sits upon is nearly devoid of fish. I believe this is why Mr Cawthon gave it up in the first place. Do you know the place?

( "a little. i fished there several times whenever mr cawthon and i were both in meryton. but the last occasion was years ago when mary and kitty were still little girls."

against his determination to remain detached and severe, atticus smiles at the brief thought of miss bennet as a serious little girl. ) Did Miss Bennet or Miss Kitty ever join you and Mr Cawthon on your fishing expeditions?

[ Mr. Gardiner gives a merry laugh. It's the type that is still entirely respectable instead of a braying, horrid sound, but it does show his good-humor.

"I am afraid not. Little girls rarely take interest in such things. I cannot imagine they would wish to touch worms or remove a fish from its hook." Kitty looks queasy at the very idea while Mary's face is more neutral as she contemplates such a thing. She had never been invited to go, but she can't imagine herself enjoying such an endeavor. ]

I have always preferred indoor pursuits.

[ Mr. Hickinbottom scoots forward in his chair with unbridled excitement. Finally, he can make some progress with her.

"Please, Miss Bennet, if you would enlighten me as to your interests? I should very much enjoy hearing about them." He's thinking embroidery, painting, designing firescreens, tracing silhouettes. All that nonsense that young women whittle away their time doing while waiting for a marriage proposal. ]

I read a great deal. I examine the intricacies of human nature and make observations. I also study various subjects to gather a better understanding of the world.

[ The amount of good it has done her has sadly been less than it should have been with her weaker understanding and no tutor to guide her on the right path. ]

I also enjoy playing music.

[ Naturally Mr. Hickinbottom implores her to give them a performance, gesturing to the pianoforte in the room. She politely declines, giving no reason but wishing to finish her tea. However, the young man is not so easily dissuaded, insisting that he simply must experience her skills. He will be beside himself until he's heard her. Mary exchanges a look with her aunt. The older woman seemed perturbed by this sudden request, knowing it has slipped beyond politeness into bad manners, but unwilling to make a scene about it either. She inclines her head to her niece, encouraging her to play, so Mary stands and approaches the instrument. Mr. Hickinbottom dabs at his mouth with his napkin before leaving the table and approaching her.

"You will need someone to turn the pages," he says to Mary before she's really had the chance to look through the pieces available and she decides it's not worth it to argue with him. She selects a simple song - Pleyel's Andante - as she's not in the mood to think too hard about what she's playing. She sits and begins with the man hovering beside her. ]

( as he does not want to begin an argument with the master of the house, atticus elects to remain silent on the matter. not all little girls take an interest in fishing, but perhaps some would if given the opportunity. but, as atticus has little experience with children, he acquiesces to mr gardiner's judgement. he also continues to be silent when mr hickinbottom insists on hearing miss bennet play, as it's not his place to point out his rudeness. the others at the table turn and crane their necks to watch the pair at the pianoforte, but atticus remains facing front, once again looking at the landscape painting. he has listened to miss bennet play this song so often, usually as part of her warm-up, that he needn't look at her to imagine her fingers gliding across the keys and the serenity that comes upon her face like the morning sun through open windows and lace curtains.

when she finishes playing, and after the applause has died down, atticus finally turns around in his chair. miss bennet is still at the pianoforte, which is smaller but more elegant than the one at longbourn, while mr hickinbottom stands near her. ) Do you play, Mr Hickinbottom?

( he replies, "no, sir. i am unfortunate in that regard." mr hickinbottom's expression is of mild dejection as if recalling a childhood misery, and he hopes miss bennet notices it before he casts his gaze away. while there is truth in his statement, the misfortunate is because of a lack of interest rather than a lack of funds. in the hickinbottom parlour room once sat a pianoforte; old, yes, but still perfectly functional. his brothers and sister found entertainment in learning songs, but this hickinbottom only found disturbance. he really has neither the mind nor the patience for playing music. )

I apologise, then, for my presumption. Since you were so enthused to hear Miss Bennet, I assumed you also played.

( mr hickinbottom's eyes narrow, and he is quick to clarify himself, "i do not play but i still take great enjoyment in music." he is a wolf stalking his prey as he seeks to speak the right words and act the right way that will deliver to him miss bennet's hand. there is no topic he wouldn't align his opinion to match hers.

a sharp grin, similar to a pilfering fox's, cuts into atticus's cheeks. ) Mr Hickinbottom, this is a fortuitous meeting. Indeed it is, for I imagine you won't find a person who finds greater enjoyment in music than Miss Bennet. Do you not agree? ( only sincerity shines in his words, just like the amusement shining in his eyes as they settle on the young lady for the first time today. despite her lack of instruction and skill at the pianoforte, her enjoyment of music radiates from her whenever she plays. it is difficult to enjoy something when one is not particularly talented at it, but miss bennet possesses the discipline and wisdom to enjoy it nonetheless.

but he does not find such dignity in mr hickinbottom. in him, atticus detects a strictness that demands that effort only be spent on what he would consider applicable and profitable. music, he suspects, is not an effort mr hickinbottom would consider well-spent. and so, atticus feels compelled to shine a light on this trait, both for miss bennet's benefit and for the satisfaction that emerges from exposing deceivers like mr hickinbottom. ) Pray, enlighten us as to your favourite composers.

[ Mary knows her tea is cold by now so she stays seated at the instrument a bit longer. It's certainly fancier than her simple practice one in her bedroom and even moreso than the family one that belongs to the estate. The sound is rich and perfectly tuned and she's sure she'll play it again before her stay here is over.

Turning slightly on the bench as Mr. Cartwright speaks, she feels great relief when his eyes finally meet hers. So much so that she nearly misses the compliment paid to her, but once it registers her face begins to feel hot at the praise. There was a time that she equated taking pleasure in music with the amount of successful, flawless performances she gave, but now there is a true enjoyment for the sound itself and how it's nearly transcendent. Music can transport you to another place and time, can alter your mood, and bring a peace unlooked for but cherished all the same.

Mr. Cartwright's inquiry throws Mr. Hickinbottom off his game for a moment. Quickly, his gaze flickers back to the music sheets Miss Bennet was just playing and he answers, "Well, Pleyel, naturally. And... there are so many talented composers that I have a hard time choosing." He looks towards Mary, expression softening as if talking to a child or an invalid. "Surely you feel the same way, Miss Bennet. There are simply too many to pick favorites." ]

On the contrary, sir. I favor Mozart, Piccinni, Wesley, Rosetti, and Miss Martines.

[ Mr. Hickinbottom has heard of several of those composers, even if he can't remember which pieces of theirs he's heard, but he smiles as if she just unlocked the key to his heart.

"Such taste! I agree completely. They all have their merits and I would be delighted to hear any of their compositions as long as they are performed by you."

Again, Mary's face feels hot. He's playing to her vanity that has lay dormant for some time now, but the urge to be noticed and thought of is always there. ]

Perhaps. If there is such an opportunity.

[ Now she stands to return to the table while her sister and aunt look at each other with secret smiles, amazed at how Mr. Hickinbottom has come to favor Mary so quickly. He must truly adore music! However, once back at the table Mary's eyes fall on Mr. Cartwright again as she's still happily thinking of his compliment over anything Mr. Hickinbottom said, which has faded into the background. ]

Mr. Cartwright is a great appreciator of music and possesses a great deal of talent himself.

( when mr hickinbottom begins to fawn over miss bennet, atticus turns back in his chair, the movement obscuring his eyes rolling. does the gentleman believe miss bennet is easier to be played on than a pipe? he is under the illusion that if he says the right words, he will win her hand. it will not be by force but by duplicity. surely, he has not been misled into thinking that miss bennet's dowry is anything substantial or that their marriage will yield any influence? it is not as if the wealth and power of her brothers-in-law has spread to her like water over a smooth surface. if by some act of the devil they were married, he, mr bingley, and mr darcy would remain nothing more than associates bound together through marriage. atticus cannot claim to know either of the gentlemen well, but he does believe that mr darcy would reach the same conclusion within the first moments of their meeting.

unless mr hickinbottom has also deluded himself into believing he can charm and deceive whoever stands in his way. it is a delusion indeed! call atticus whatever instrument though he can be fretted, he cannot be played upon.

the pair rejoin the others at the table, and a frisson of delight surges through him from miss bennet's compliment. his ears redden as he sips his tea and asks, ) Do either of you play, Mr and Mrs Gardiner?

( mrs gardiner answers, "i do, but nowhere near as well as mary. our eldest, caroline, is currently taking lessons, and we hope the others follow when they are old enough. mr gardiner and i are united in the belief that skill in music is but one facet of a well-rounded individual."

atticus smiles, nodding in agreement. ) A noble belief indeed.

( eager to appear prudent, mr hickinbottom mirrors his expression and also nods.

"i think mary mentioned you play the violin, sir. did your parents observe a similar principle?" mrs gardiner asks. )

Perhaps. ( his mouth works as if a stone was caught in his teeth, and his expression dulls like a cloud passing over the sun. ) Forsooth, I hardly knew their motivations in anything.

( his mother, lady madeline, played the violin, so it may have been her wish that he did as well. she was talented enough that she should have played in front of audiences and royalty, if her father had not forbidden her. playing then is a kinship, perhaps the only one atticus shares with her. he knows so little of her that he has to seize at anything. lord stuart wishes he had never picked up the violin, or that's what atticus believes. music or even the act of entertainment never brought his father any joy as it did when his mother performed it. the servants had to take it upon themselves to place the violin into atticus's hands and then hire a tutor. after the light of his life was extinguished, his father veiled himself from further illumination.

it's a plight that plagues every child: unravelling the tangled knots left behind by their parents. he had only one parent for most of his life, but his mind is like a ball of twine after a roll down a hill. )

It's a great disappointment that I did not bring my violin to London. Rarely am I ever presented with the opportunity to play for a group of music enthusiasts such as this.

( the cloud passes by atticus's face, and a glee shines in his green eyes as they slide across to mr hickinbottom, who is unimpressed by the discussion of his accolades. atticus would have insisted on a duet with miss bennet. )

[ The discussion settling on music is a delight to Mary, but as is so often the case, her expression hardly shows any of her feelings beyond the briefest hint of happiness in her eyes. ]

It is unfortunate indeed, but I am grateful to have heard you play many times.

[ Mr. Hickinbottom does not like this gratitude of hers directed towards another man when his plans to move ever upward currently hinge on securing her as quickly as possible. He tries to think up a way to steer the conversation away from Cartwright and on to Miss Bennet's own achievements with music, but before he can speak Mrs. Gardiner adds: "Perhaps someday we will have the pleasure." She nods to Mr. Cartwright, making it clear that she is offering to continue the acquaintance. He is certainly a little odd and perhaps lackadaisical, but he is a friend of her brother-in-law and her niece so there is no need to shy away from future encounters.

Finally Mr. Hickinbottom finds a brief moment to make his move. "I am sure that no one can lament what might have been when we have such an extraordinary performer before us here. Tell me, Miss Bennet, are you the favored performer of all your acquaintances in Meryton? I daresay everyone pales in comparison to you." He's laying it on quite thickly now, but he needs to sever this tie to Cartwright as soon as possible.

Mary is a little unsure how to respond to this. It's true that most in Meryton would probably proclaim her the most proficient in music by a wide margin. She was spoken of as the most accomplished girl as had always been her goal. But her shame at her performance during the Netherfield ball still sometimes hangs over her no matter how she tries to move past it. She was a different girl then with different goals. She put on airs though she hadn't realized it at the time and it was to her detriment. Choosing her words carefully, she replies: ]

I am thought of as accomplished, yes. I have performed a great many times but in recent months I have chosen to... be more selective as to who hears me perform.

[ There is no reason to speak on the state of Meryton and the way it treats those who they deem have behaved inappropriately. ]

But there are always young ladies who enjoy music and will perform. They are hardly bereft for having lost my performances.

[ "And everyone wanted you to perform jolly music so they could dance, which you hated to do," Kitty adds with a smile. In a way, that's true, for Mary always wished to play complicated pieces to amaze her audience, but all anyone wanted was to use her for their own fun. Now Mary wonders if she could have seen past the easy sheet music to actually absorb what she was playing to have enjoyed it to. Perhaps. After all, she enjoys the simple songs she plays for her cousins because of how they react.

As she considers these factors, Mr. Hickinbottom laments the people of Meryton the great loss of her musical abilities while again expressing how fortunate he - a great appreciator of music, you remember - is to have witnessed her playing. Mary snaps herself from her musings at the end of one of his raptures to find him looking at her expectantly. Oh. ]

I enjoy playing lively music for our cousins.

[ Which is going back to work off of what Kitty said in the hopes they were still talking about music for dancing when her mind started to wander. ]

( the fly that was once merely humming around his ears is now biting at his skin. annoyance snaps to discomfort as mr hickinbottom continues to spin his fulsome words towards miss bennet. the black tea turns acerbic in atticus's mouth. surely, he is not the only one who can detect the falsehood in the man's tone and countenance. indeed, he must be because if any other person could, they would also be endeavouring to impede the pollution spewing from his mouth like smoke from a tannery. once, he thought mr hickinbottom was a worm, but that was an incorrect comparison in hindsight. atticus now thinks of him as nothing more than a rat — brown hair, brown clothing, and vacant eyes that barely conceal his greediness and the overwhelming desire to consume. chewing, clawing, and scraping to make his way.

clearing his throat of bile, atticus interjects himself into the conversation, speaking with the cheerfulness and lightness that belies his intention to illuminate the absurdity of mr hickinbottom's fulsome compliments. ) All the Bennet sisters are accomplished. They play. They dance. They speak French, and I know not what! ( he looks at miss kitty, who is quietly fiddling with the lace trim on the sleeve of her dress. ) I understand, Miss Kitty, that you are talented at embroidery. ( praise is effulgent in his voice, and it is not entirely false. he has seen some of her works on tables or hanging during his visits to longbourn as he is led through the hallways into the parlour or mr bennet's library, and they are quite good.

surprised, miss kitty's gaze shifts from her dress to mr cartwright, and her cheeks pinken. after mary's performance on the pianoforte, she had not expected further compliments to be directed her way. least of all, not from mr cartwright, who appears to be more impressed by musical talent like that displayed by her sister rather than the frivolous talents possessed by herself. "thank you, sir. but i can hardly call myself talented when the thread still tangles, and the fabric still bunches if i'm not watchful." )

But you are young, and so with experience and practice, you will improve. I was not a virtuoso when I began. And neither was your aunt or your sister, I presume.

[ Mary shifts her attention to this new topic of conversation and has to admit to herself that Mr. Cartwright has paid more attention to Kitty's skill than Mary herself. In the Bennet household everything had felt like a competition against her sisters. They were all beautiful and lively, though Jane a little less lively than the other three. Mary never saw herself as with them, but against them; vying for attention. And yet, she feels now that perhaps she and Kitty were the two most ignored of the group. Jane was the oldest and most beautiful, Elizabeth was naturally witty and charming, and Lydia was loud and demanded notice. Mary was plain, moralized at every occasion, and had nothing more to recommend her than playing the pianoforte. Kitty was pretty, but pushed into Lydia's shadow with only officers and lace to fill her head. They had both been neglected and now they are both grown women, trying to find space for themselves in the world. And Kitty has found hers up in the north.

It shouldn't be hard for Mary to accept herself as she is. For a long time she's known that she would never be the object of a man's affections and if any asked for her hand it would be out of simple practicality. She has prepared for that. But as Kitty thanks Mr. Cartwright and goes on to tell a story about how her Mr. Hamilton first noticed her lace because it got caught on his cuff link and they were temporarily stuck together, Mary examines the look on her sister's face. Kitty has matured, and instead of the giddy girl practically bouncing off the walls as she dreamed of officers, her expression is that of a woman in love. And Mary briefly wonders what it would feel like to be in love. It must be like warmth coursing through the body with a heart beating rapidly against the rib cage. It must feel like butterflies in the stomach. It must feel like the cold shock of ice against the skin when seeing the one you love talking to someone else and feelings of jealousy arise. And as each of these thoughts come to her, they're accompanied by a memory of when Mr. Cartwright made her feel just such a way.

As if on cue, her heart beats against her rib cage as her eyes slowly lift to look at him. Clarity has taken far, far too long to come to her, but it's here now. The way he makes her feel is unlike anyone else. His praise, his attention, his honesty and integrity are unlike anyone else's behavior towards her. No one else would have ever come to her rescue at Christmas after Lydia's harsh words. No one else would seek her out in a crowded room and wish to speak to her. There is no one else she would rather give her heart to, even knowing the painful reality that such affections as hers will never be returned. He will never want a wife. But she can make peace with that. Right now, this is enough.

"And when all was said and done I truly didn't mind. It motivated me to improve my technique and make an even better trim to replace it." Kitty finishes her story about her betrothed accidentally stretching her lace sleeve trim and turns to Mary to address her. But whatever she might have said is lost as she sees her sister's expression and quickly says, "Mary! Are you unwell?"

Immediately Mr. Hickinbottom - who was thoroughly examining the texture of a scone so he didn't have to listen to talk of lace - sits upright and gives all his attention to Mary, saying her name with great concern. By now she's teared her gaze away from Mr. Cartwright to briefly look at her sister and that dislodges the tear she hadn't realized had gathered in the corner of her eye. Quickly, she ducks her head and turns in her chair to hide her face from the party. ]

No, no; quite well. I believe I have something in my eye. An eyelash perhaps.

[ Shooting out of his chair, Mr. Hickinbottom is rounding the table to her side to aid her.

"I will help you remove it, Miss Bennet. Leave it to me." ]

Pray, do not trouble yourself!

[ Mary says it in a panic, wanting the overly eager man to leave her alone. Instead she stands and moves past him, muttering about finding a mirror in her room. He is becoming quite too much. Never before has she wished so much to not be noticed. ]

( miss kitty takes this as an opportunity to recount how she and mr hamilton first became acquainted. it is a charming story and, through her account, tempts atticus into curiosity. he makes it no secret that he finds most clergymen to be pretentious and dull, who find greater concern in securing their own place in heaven rather than helping their parishioners. but from miss kitty's glowing praises, both in her words and expression, mr hamilton appears to be the outlier to atticus's long-held perception. he is a kind, considerate man who takes joy in his sermons, parishioners, and life. it sounds like if god is merciful in his works and purposes, it would indeed be a blessing to meet mr hamilton.

although, it is possible miss kitty speaks of her betrothed as someone too dazzled by love to notice the imperfections. the rays of the sun that provide light and warmth can also scorch. but he shan't reproach her or her feelings. just because atticus closed his heart off does not mean he condemns others for not doing so as well.

miss kitty ends her story with an exclamation about her sister's ill look. as atticus turns his head to behold miss bennet's ailment, mr hickinbottom leaps from his chair and rushes over to aid her. in the ensuing disorder, no one should notice how atticus rolls his eyes and groans under his breath. the man is truly repugnant. miss bennet is wise enough to decline his help and hurries from the room with him close behind. barely looking up from his tea, atticus hisses, ) For heaven's sake, Hickinbottom, she is capable of remedying it herself.

( that is enough to dissuade mr hickinbottom from following her, and he returns to his chair, a frown pulling at his expression. miss bennet leaves behind an awkward scene, so mr gardiner breaks it, and clears his throat, standing up. "i'd say it's time we return to the office now, eh hickinbottom?"

he follows his boss's motion and stands, though reluctant. "so soon? i would very much like to wait for miss bennet to return so i can bid farewell."

atticus takes this as an opportunity and stands as well. if he should find miss bennet on the landing, he shall bid his farewell, but he has no intention of staying a moment longer to await her return. ) I, too, believe it is time I take my leave.

( as if on cue, the door leading to the hallway opens, but instead of miss bennet entering the room, tis the youngest gardiner, robert, a boy of barely eight. cheerfully, he greets his parents, "ahoy there, mama and papa. is tea finished yet?"

"not yet, robert. go back to the others," mrs gardiner replies, patient and serene in her voice and countenance.

under his mop of brown hair, the lad groans that his brother and sisters refuse to entertain him and his desire to play pirates, so he is bored. he squints, and his gaze turns to mr hickinbottom, then to atticus, then back to mr hickinbottom before finally back to atticus. "which one of you is the gentleman i've heard so much about?"

mrs gardiner's eyes widen just a little, and she immediately admonishes her son, "robert! that is impolite."

he bows. "pardon me then. i am robert gardiner, and i would be delighted to make the acquaintance of the well-travelled gentleman that mary and kitty often speak of."

before the well-travelled gentleman can respond, miss kitty cuts in to admonish her cousin. "robert! you shouldn't eavesdrop." it is fortunate that mary isn't here to listen to robert reveal each point of discussion shared in confidence between the sisters while naughty boys hide behind corners or under tables. nervously, she glances at mr cartwright, who appears amused instead of annoyed, like mr hickinbottom, or embarrassed, like his parents.

atticus laughs, and its warmth and genuineness put kitty and the gardiners at ease. he can hardly fault a child for bursting through their seams with spirit and enthusiasm so rarely seen or approved of in adults. ) That is I, Mr Gardiner. ( he takes his seat, and waves the boy over. ) Come. Keep your cousin's seat warm while we wait for her to return.

( robert happily takes the invitation and trots over to fill in the empty seat. the two gentlemen who remained standing also sit down. both mr hickinbottom and atticus have expressed (however enthusiastic) an interest in saying goodbye to Miss Bennet, so they both will linger longer. )

[ Mary quickly ascends the stairs to the room she and her sister are sharing and sits before the vanity. Taking a slow, cleansing breath, she tells herself to be calm and sensible. There is no reason to put herself into a state over her feelings. From the outside nothing has changed between herself and Mr. Cartwright and so it shall remain. It doesn't take her long to convince herself of it and she's about to stand when she catches her reflection in the mirror and leans in to examine her appearance.

There have been periods where Mary scrutinized her every feature and just as many where she refused to look in a mirror. There have been times when she cursed her ill luck and times when she scolded herself for her vanity. Today Mary's eyes take in her features and conclude that she is nothing more than just plain. It is a good reminder to remain as she is and to not let the recent understanding of her heart give her grand ideas of things that shall never be. Satisfied that things will be the same moving forward, she returns to the group, a little annoyed to see Mr. Hickinbottom has not yet returned to his work but also pleased that Mr. Cartwright has yet to leave. ]

I apologize for my sudden departure. All is well.

[ Her little cousin stands from her seat and returns it to her, saying: "Mr. Cartwright was just about to tell us of his extensive travels." Mary's eyes travel to the man and a brief smile touches her lips. ]

I always enjoy hearing of the places he's been. It is good I have not missed it.

[ Robert is excited to hear about it and Kitty beckons him over to share her seat with her, scooting to one side of it. As the slimmest one here, it makes sense to her to share.

"Have you been to Corfu?" he asks, hands resting on his knees. "I read about a siege that happened there." ]

( atticus rescinds his previous statement.

he does not like mr robert gardiner, nor does he find his antics amusing now that he is forced to stay longer and speak about himself and his travels. his eyes shift among the party, and all appear interested in what he will say. except, of course, for mr hickinbottom, where annoyance is barely restrained on the man's thin face. how terrible is it to finally share a common understanding with mr hickinbottom? a more immediate urge to leave overcomes atticus before they come upon yet another agreement. distance and fresh air will aid in regaining his senses and dislike for the man.

atticus shifts in his chair, uneasy. corfu is an enigma. though he did not experience the level of brutality his landbound compatriots did, he also bore witness to unspeakable acts. he had partaken in them, readily even. still, to attach remorsefulness or ruefulness to his confessions of these acts would be misleading. he does not regret his actions taken in corfu. and yet, he avoids reminiscing too deeply about his time there. like a scar, it is faded, hidden, even forgotten until touched or a storm creeps over the horizon. )

Many sieges have happened there. It is, after all, the bulwark of the Christian states against Ottoman power. Peculiar, given the island's origins as a martial gift from Poseidon. ( his eyebrows knit together as if he just noticed the peculiarity of it himself. )

For centuries, the Ottomans have laid siege to Corfu, and the Venetians have triumphed each time. On this occasion, however, we besieged the island against Napoleon. ( his jaw works, and thunder rumbles in his ears. not napoleon but donzelot — gentle, charming, and capable in his abilities and duty. yet war makes devils of them all. he clears his throat, hoping that is enough to liven his sullen expression. ) But, I hesitate to expound as the siege is so recent and, thus, coloured by bias and secrecy. Regardless, this is neither the time nor the audience to recount the story. Corfu is beautiful, however. Rugged mountains, half-crumbled ruins from the Byzantine days, and pristine waters as clear and blue as the sky. And its people — Homer wrote they eclipse the world in sailing, nimble footwork, dance, and song, and I believe it is still true today.

( though that is hearsay as atticus never had the opportunity to see for himself. in vain, the british royal navy lays siege to the island, and, in vain, they have not succeeded, aside from capturing donzelot's library. he can only speculate about the beauty found in corfu. with a rather rueful tone, he says, ) I apologise, Mr Gardiner, if that does not satisfy your curiosity, but that is all I can say for now. With every hope, the war should be over by the time you are old enough to travel, and you can see Corfu for yourself.

( and perhaps, by that time, atticus will find the fortitude to see corfu for himself as well. war has not stopped him from travelling and seeing the world. so why should he allow mere memories of war to stop him? )

[ The little master's eyes widen, picking up on Mr. Cartwright's exact phrasing as only a child could do.

"You mean to say that you lay siege to Corfu? You are in the military?" Mrs. Gardiner, who has not had such intelligence reach her ears as to Mr. Cartwright's career, interjects with her calm voice.

"I believe the gentleman speaks of the British Empire when he says 'we,' my dear." Though her eyes travel to the man in question so he himself may confirm her logic. Mary's eyes lock on him as well, and though she's never felt her heart flutter at the thought of officers as her sisters had, her mind briefly conjures images of a scarlet coat and a dark blue one. She wonders which shade would better bring out the brightness of his eyes. ]

I have read of such waters existing in the world. It is a shame they should be so far away from England, but perhaps the distance makes them feel more special to those who have not the luxury to view them regularly.

[ Not for the first time her mind wanders to a place where she indulges in the fantasy of travel with no restrictions. With no harsh conditions or dangers. Her mind would be expanded from the new experiences she would have. But alas, such dreams are better left on the shelf. She has her books to tell her of such places and that must be enough. ]

( once. a long time ago. another lifetime ago. another person ago.

in the halls of bottreaux castle hangs a portrait miniature of atticus in his naval uniform, the dark blue of the wool jacket starkly contrasting the plain white backdrop. leastwise, it was when he last visited. in the portrait, he was a decade younger, and though untouched by war and hardship, his expression bore a somberness like that of a graveyard. still, his features retained a soft, almost angelic quality as if botticelli himself had put the brush to ivory (in actuality, it was the great miniaturist, john smart, highly regarded for his detailed and realistic portraits).

lord cecil, as he was then known, had recently received his commission as a lieutenant abroad the hms eagle. inside him burned a desire to experience the world and put forth his small measure of goodness and change. then six years of war refashioned him, and when it was time to renew his commission, he declined. a lack of advancement and ships to captain also ensured an easier decision.

nodding, ) Just so, ma'am. I speak of the general, as in "we had a lovely time at tea today."

( though that is perhaps inaccurate if the firm set of mr hickinbottom's jaw was an indication to the contrary. in that, atticus finds yet another point of agreement with the gentleman. this gathering for tea has not been lovely, and to him, it shall be remembered as one of the worst. mr hickinbottom's glare, however, which is intended to scorch atticus's face with the intensity of a thousand suns, is instead a much-welcomed warmth to his soul. the corner of his mouth turns up, and when he hears miss bennet's observation, he's almost beaming at the sight of mr hickinbottom's misery.

so his voice is lively like the activity just outside the windows when he replies, ) Perhaps Poseidon, still determined to proclaim his presence despite the absence of worship, ensures the colour and clarity of such waters. ( atticus knows it is not so. but pretending so gives him an odd comfort; to think that nothing perished, and that every being who loved and wondered somehow also never perished. )

[ This is not the first man Mrs. Gardiner has heard speak with the soul of a poet, but it does concern her how she knows so little about him and he in turn seems close to her niece. Perhaps this evening she will subtly warn Mary off the idea of him as a suitable partner, though who can say if the advice will be understood. Lydia never paid a bit of mind to the advice she had been given by her aunt and the woman knows Mary has a penchant for only taking her own counsel and thinking herself right.

Her son nods sagely, having learnt of Poseidon not so long ago in his studies. The boy could probably stay enraptured by what Mr. Cartwright says for hours more, but his mother does give a polite indication that tea is drawing to a close and he should return upstairs. Mr. Hickinbottom is eager to depart, but he wants Mr. Cartwright to leave first so that he can shower Miss Bennet with his attentions without interruption. Mary has seemed disinclined to really look his way and at her aunt's prompting she does her duty in stating what a pleasure it was to have the gentlemen join them, etc. To Mr. Cartwright, she adds: ]

Will you be in London for much longer, sir?

[ It would be a boon to spend time with him again before they depart for Hertfordshire once more and return to their normal lives. ]

( to be thought of as too improper and inferior to be considered a suitor for miss bennet! the irony of such thought borders on absurdity. atticus would laugh if he knew. his father, meanwhile, would find no such humour, only offence, not on his son's behalf but on behalf of the family. a family which stretches back generations of wealth and eminence; and includes both branches of the english and capetian house of courtenay. the thought that miss mary bennet is proper and distinguised enough for their family itself plunges into absurdity.

while atticus does not share his father's arrogant pride, he would take a little offence at the presumption that he is without money and, therefore, without virtue. it is a prejudice he has endeavoured to avoid when he had money, title, and connections, and still, it follows him like a miasma. he is content with the things he has, and for the things he does not have, he does not work towards them with a slack hand. he is diligent in his dealings and careful in his attitude. never does the wish to harm the undeserving cross his heart, and it rarely does for the deserving (like mr hickinbottom).

although it is a concern not wholly without merit. being without personal fortune, miss bennet needs to secure a husband with current and future prospects.

so he confesses — he does agree with mrs gardiner. and if he suspected that miss bennet had formed an attachment to him, far exceeding what is appropriate to her status, he would be inclined to forgo visiting longbourn ever again. for her, their friendship may be a lark or a passing folly. knowingly or unknowingly is worth some debate, and perhaps one he shall engage in on the return travel to meryton. but he does not think this is the case. he prides himself on his ability to read people, and he believes miss bennet has been in want of companionship and excitement since her sisters have married and left. atticus's presence filled a void that will soon be replaced by her sister's wedding and her own not-too-distant nuptials. )

A few days more. ( sooner if he has his way. seizing the chance again, atticus stands to make his exit with the other gentlemen. ) Please forgive me, but I ought to leave now.

( "as shall we." mr gardiner kisses his wife on the cheek. "goodbye for now, my dear." mrs gardiner murmurs her farewells as all three gentlemen move towards the door and into the entryway. mr hickinbottom, however, lingers by the door, waiting for the opportunity to express his condolences about his sudden departure to miss bennet. already a plan forms in his mind to ask her for a drive in the park. perhaps the next evening or late afternoon at most likely hyde park, as it is the most popular of all the parks. he will have to see about borrowing a carriage, though some walk but that will not do for mr hickinbottom and his designs. before tomorrow, he will borrow a carriage and impress miss bennet with his riding skills.

just as atticus gathers his hat to depart, a small voice stops him. "are you leaving so soon, mr cartwright?"

atticus turns around, and it is young mr gardiner yet again, in front of him and staring up at him. forcing a smile, he apologises, ) I'm afraid so, Mr Gardiner.

( the lad pouts, "i had more questions to ask. but if you are leaving, i suppose i shall ask if you can answer just one more."

silently sighing to himself, atticus nods his head to give consent for the lad to ask his question. hopefully, it is simple enough that his answer can also be simple and brief.

"have you seen a camel?"

it is such an innocent question that it leaves atticus at a momentary loss for words. his smile becomes more natural, and mirth sways in his green eyes like the wind blowing through a meadow. he crouches down on one knee so they can speak to each other eye to eye, like proper gentlemen. ) Indeed I have. Not only that, I have ridden a camel with the Bedouin tribe in Northern Africa and even had the pleasure of being spat upon by one. ( his nose curls from the memory as robert gardiner laughs. truly, the lad is not bad. in him is a similar soul to atticus's: one that can hardly be contained in one's body and longs to see and experience new things and worlds. so atticus cannot begrudge the child for his questions, for he doubts he would've acted any differently if he met a man like himself as a child. it is just a tragedy that they find each other on a day when atticus has been locked in for too long and thus is not his normal self.

realising that mr cartwright's attention is diverted by mr gardiner's son, an unabated mr hickinbottom moves to an unattached miss bennet. what a perfect opportunity to present his invitation for the outing. he'll have to buy the brat a treat for the aid, however unintentional. )

[ Mary has never been the best at socializing, though she does try. She has, of course, read a variety of books on the matter but her skills at properly engaging in conversation with a whole party and knowing when to steer topics has always fell a little flat. Because of this, she is glad that the bulk of the work had fallen on her Aunt Gardiner and she could observe her in the hopes of taking something away from the encounter.

And now that the gentlemen are leaving she feels she could do with some quiet time alone in her guest room, perhaps with a book. Sadly her thoughts are interrupted once again by Mr. Hickinbottom, who expresses his deep regrets in being parted from her so soon. His behavior this afternoon has been quite odd, but at no point has he been reprimanded by her aunt or uncle and she's left to wonder if this is common behavior for men in London. He goes on to suggest the two take a carriage ride in Hyde Park on the morrow and Mary's eyes widen slightly at the boldness of the invitation. ]

Excuse me, but I do not believe it would be deemed proper.

[ Her eyes flicker to her aunt, seeking guidance, and her aunt too looks a little rattled by the suddenness of Mr. Hickinbottom's favor for her niece.

"I am the height of proper and your reputation is my chief concern," he replies with condescension. "Hyde Park is a very public place and all would see we are behaving properly." Aunt Gardiner calmly states that to meet in Hyde Park and take a turn is perfectly acceptable if a chaperone is present, but to leave from this house and travel to Hyde Park alone would not be. And so Mr. Hickinbottom switches tactics and tries to draw in Mrs. Gardiner or Kitty to act as chaperone. Mary doesn't know how to properly give the signal to her relations that she has no desire to attend and after a great deal of hemming and hawing she finds herself obliged to go the next day, though she insists Kitty ride with them too. Such is fine with Mr. Hickinbottom. He'll try and find an excuse to leave Kitty behind. Surely an engaged girl will be fine left to herself for ten or twenty minutes.

This arrangement leaves Mary with unsettled feelings and she rises from her seat to force Mr. Hickinbottom to leave by her movements alone. If he insists on lingering she will have to draw him to the door and all but shove him out onto the stoop. Leaving the room and entering the hall, she comes across her cousin and Mr. Cartwright still having a conversation on camels. Robert speaks of his desire to ride one and Mary settles her hands lightly on the boy's shoulders as she stands behind him to address the gentleman. ]

Thank you again for visiting, sir. If I do not see you before your departure, we will meet again at home.

[ The smile she gives him is one of her rare ones, heartfelt and transformative as her eyes nearly sparkle. Her newly discovered feelings will be known to her alone, but they're precious to her and she can't help how she feels. However, as Mr. Hickinbottom moves closer to her the smile shifts into something tight and restrained as she nods to him. ]

My sister and I shall meet you tomorrow, sir.

[ And with that she nods to the footman to open the door before Hickinbottom can think up another reason to delay. ]

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{ psl: to london }

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