![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
{ psl: the ball }
[ At last the long-expected trip arrived and Mr. Bennet, Mary, and Kitty traveled to the north along well maintained roads with frequent stops. To her astonishment, the trip was not as terrible as Mary had been expecting. The carriage was not cramped and the bumps not too jarring. And she had to marvel at how the landscape changed the farther north they traveled. There was a wildness about it, but not the type that needed to be brought to heel. It was picturesque and calming, leaving Mary to stare out the window for a good portion of the trip.
On arriving the party found rest and quiet conversation. After the recent events at Longbourn, the three were not sad to leave Lydia and Mrs. Bennet behind. The young clergyman Mr. Hamilton was met, found to be quite agreeable, and even parried back some of Mr. Bennet's quips. None of his other sons-in-law could do that and he privately thought to himself that his daughter had done better for herself than she deserved.
The wedding occurred several days later and Mary found she could be at peace with the knowledge that she was now the spinster daughter. It had been assumed for many years and she could no longer be bitter. She loved, and that was enough. Having the man she loved as her friend was all she needed now.
And so the days went on. Mary was allowed to play Miss Darcy's pianoforte and the two walked often on the grounds. Indeed, Mary found herself starting to become a better walker when she never had felt a desire for it before. Perhaps it was the natural beauty of Pemberley's grounds that caused her views to change. Miss Darcy desired friendship and Mary saw no reason it should not be so. Small jealousies at the young lady's talents or her lingering interest in Mr. Cartwright could be overcome and Mary was determined to do so. In fact, once it was known that the gentleman would soon be joining their party right in time for a ball in Georgiana's honor, Mary told herself at least ten times a day that she was in no danger of losing her friend. He would never marry and neither would she and in that way they could go on in friendship for all their days.
Now the day of the ball has arrived and the lady's maid assigned to Mary comes into her room to draw back the curtains. Blearily blinking her eyes, Mary is quite drowsy until she remembers that Mr. Cartwright will be here soon and she throws back the covers to start her day. It will not be long until she can look into his green eyes again. ]
no subject
a dawn chorus accompanies him on his ride to derbyshire with the sun's rays barely peeking over the horizon. the further north he travels, the smooth land increasingly folds to hills like a crumbled piece of paper. it reminds him of the fowey moor — home — in cornwall, though the air lacks the mildness of the south. the climate and terrain then reflect the personality of the gentleman he associates with this area. the same gentleman he travels to meet and visit for a fortnight.
after his conversation with miss bennet following her refusal of mr hickinbottom, atticus accepts mr darcy's invitation to pemberley. as he has never laid his eyes upon some of the finest woods in the country, he thinks it would be neglectful if he did not visit at least briefly before he departed. his visit, however, was planned carefully to avoid miss kitty's wedding or any other social event. though he is confident in believing that he wouldn't come upon any familiar faces from his previous life in mr darcy's circle, he is still unsure if any would appear if that circle expanded. it would be best if he made himself small and insignificant like the blades of freshly grown grass that pilot trots upon.
a male passerine sings for a mate, and a stab of sympathy pierces through him. despite the trepidation of the unfamiliarity, he is eager to meet new acquaintances and renew old ones.
after nearly a day's journey, atticus finally arrives at pemberley mid-afternoon. it is fine country, he will admit, but none that eclipses the beauty of cornwall in his eyes. as he rides up the lane at the front of the grand house, a servant arrives to greet him. with a bow, the servant apologises that the master and mistress of the house is unable to receive him properly. returning the bow, atticus relates his understanding of the matter and that he takes no offence. being the master of a great estate such as this entails great responsibilities.
a servant takes his small trunk and violin to his room while a stablehand takes his horse to the stable. atticus is offered tea to recuperate after a long journey, but he declines. his recuperation will be to take a turn around the immediate area of pemberley. he promises the servant (and himself) not to travel too far so he will be easy to find if the master or mistress wishes to speak to him.
against the green landscape, atticus is a noticeable figure in his wine-coloured tailcoat (the same he wore for tea with the gardiners) and a striped blue waistcoat. somewhere, he misplaced the straw hat he had for strolling, so he wears a black top hat for now. perhaps tomorrow, he will visit the milliner at the nearby village. perhaps tomorrow, he will slip out at dawn and spend the whole traipsing the countryside. perhaps —! his mind brims with perhaps! )
no subject
At the moment she wanders the grounds near to the house, waiting for Georgiana to join her. Each day, the young Miss Darcy meets with Elizabeth and the two discuss household matters. It's education of a sort for the girl, so she can learn how to manage her own establishment someday. Today the meeting is running a little long due to Georgiana's party. Last minute details must be looked over and approved, so Mary came outside to enjoy the warming temperature and the scenery. Standing at a low stone wall that separates a flatter part of the lawn from a steep, natural drop off, she admires the view of Lambton in the distance. Any other family would have brought in tons of dirt to level the ground, disrupting what nature had wrought over ages of the world. But the Darcys simply built a wall that would prevent people from taking a tumble and didn't obstruct the view at all in doing so.
She would stay like this longer, but she turns her head to see if perhaps Miss Darcy has finished inside. Instead she's surprised (though not unhappily so) to see Mr. Cartwright crossing the grounds. She turns towards him, feeling her heart beating rapidly against her rib cage. There comes a desire - wholly unbidden, of course - to smooth hands down her dress or twist a curl around her finger to make sure it's still shaped well. Her lady's maid does a far better job of rolling her fringe than she ever could and her hair frames her face better now. But Mary stays still, feeling quite foolish over such thoughts as these. Appearance has never been a foundation of their friendship. ]
Mr. Cartwright.
[ Said once he's close enough that she doesn't need to shout. ]
I hope it was a pleasant journey.
[ She curtsies to him, holding out her hand to give his a shake. ]
no subject
( from mr bennet's brief letters, he was told of the grandeur of pemberley's library. atticus thought miss bennet would be under a pile of books in the library, and they would have to send out an expedition team to rescue her. and yet, she is out here under the sky, as blue as the second day of creation, and among the foliage, as green and lush as the third day. whether due to her older sisters' guidance, the distance from her mother, or the northern air, miss bennet has improved within the month since she departed meryton. )
I see your sister has not yet cured you of your bad habits. ( though his voice is sharp with reproach, atticus still sticks out his hand to shake hers, firmly and eagerly. as friends, it is natural to express joy in seeing each other after so long a separation. there should be no shame. and yet, as they shake hands, his mind focuses on the softness of her hand and the sun's rays filtering through the curls that so perfectly frame her face. it appears months of study and introspection have not yet cured him of his bad habit of reverie. but he releases miss bennet's hand before the moment stumbles into tactlessness. )
no subject
I cannot see how any habit could be so bad when I am receiving fresh air and sunshine.
[ She too is distracted by the sight of him - especially his eyes that seem somehow brighter, as if the landscape of the north somehow enhances their shade. The moment is lost as his hand releases hers, as though a spell has been broken and she can focus again. ]
But if you will forgive me these bad habits, whatever you deem them to be, look there.
[ Her gaze turns back towards the village in the distance. ]
There lies a village, and as I have been most cautious on its slippery streets I wondered if it was that one where you once suffered a different fate than I.
[ Now she looks back on him with an easy smile in place. The expression comes so naturally to her now in his presence. While she has been enjoying her stay here - more than she thought she would - it is now all the better for his being here. ]
My father will be most pleased to see you as well. Shall we walk?
[ Mary is in no hurry to return to the house and it seems they can have the deepest conversations while outdoors. ]
no subject
although he had planned to linger a little longer in solitude to steady himself before enduring sustained conversation and company, the prospect of lingering here with miss bennet is not an unattractive thought. indeed, it broaches a most agreeable activity. ) If you wish, Miss Bennet. ( smiling, and with the friendliest intentions, he offers her his arm. it is not for her benefit but for his. after so many hours riding a horse, he is not yet so stable on his own two feet again. as he had correctly observed, hills are a common occurrence in derbyshire. he would not want to embarrass himself or miss bennet by appearing before the lord and lady with grass- or dirt-stained trousers (however inconspicuous the stains might be on the dark green linen). )
Is it too much to hope to come upon your father also receiving fresh air and sunshine? Or is it better to think of him as a lost cause? ( not that atticus would ever lay blame entirely upon mr bennet for staying in the library, among the books, dust, and privacy. but they are not at longbourn, where hiding in the library is a strategy for survival with his wife and daughter. they are at pemberley where the only threats are the hursts: mr bingley's sister and brother-in-law. that is, if mrs wickham is to be believed. (although his opinion of mrs wickham has remained unchanged, atticus has found her to be a great source of unfiltered and (mostly) truthful commentary on the residents of meryton and the company orbiting the darcys and bingleys.) )
no subject
There is a bench just up there where you may find rest. As for my father, I would not call it impossible for him to venture out here from time to time, but it is rare. The library here is unlike anything I have ever known. My father finds great joy in it and has said - quite facetiously - that he shall install a cot in a corner and take his meals there too.
[ Mary cannot recall a time her father has been in such good humor. At Longbourn his merriment always came at the expense of someone else. He loved to laugh at stupidity, silliness, and arrogance, whether it came from neighbors or family. But here he is surrounded by (mostly) intelligent minds and of those that are not, Mr. Bennet holds his tongue for Elizabeth's sake. The Hursts are people he only finds value in mocking but he does so privately in his own head for the most part. Only when he has Lizzie's ear in private will he have his laugh aloud. ]
I hope you take great pleasure in it too. I have thought of Avalon and all your books stacked about here and there.
[ Here alone with him, she feels she can speak freely of being in his home. Her mother would balk, but she is not here, having her hands full with Lydia and her new granddaughter. ]
no subject
( nothing can be said on his part about his month in meryton. a little was spent in london to settle the final details of his book, but most of his time was spent at his little cottage surrounded by trees and perched upon a pond. it was that, however, pond that occupied him. true to his word, he reintroduced fish into the water in the hopes of restoring the pond to glory. it's shallow enough with a layer of mud and very few plants, so it was only rational enough to fill it with sturgeon. although he is more familiar with the fish of southern england, he believes the fish will thrive in its new environment.
what time was not spent at the pond was spent inside his home, deciding what to take or leave behind. the books miss bennet thinks of are no longer stacked about here and there around his sitting room. they are now stored neatly in trunks and boxes. some will go with him to america, but most will remain at avalon. the books, his chipped dishes, the sturgeon swimming in the pond, and the painting of a nude woman hanging above the fireplace will all be the only traces of him after he departs. no one will probably realise he's gone for a while.
but those plans are for another time. he would prefer to live in this time and resolves to absorb miss bennet's words and presence. this may be one of the last chances he has to dawdle. )
no subject
[ There is a moment's hesitation and a nervous smile as she thinks that a gentleman such as himself will find little enjoyment in hearing about the daily trivialities of a young lady. But the moment passes and her smile turns more genuine. Mr. Cartwright is not like her father. He will not find fault with her itinerary, nor mock the things she's done. He is her friend. ]
The wedding was - of course - our first event here. It was a well put together affair. The rector who performed the ceremony was well-spoken and I found Mr. Hamilton to be a pleasant gentleman.
[ Things such as the decor, the dress Kitty wore, or the breakfast spread aren't things that Mary really puts stock in. She prefers to examine people and their morals and she found everyone to be displaying the proper attitude in the church. ]
Since then, there have been numerous dinner parties and I have met with the neighboring families. Some are not to my tastes.
[ An understatement to be sure, but it seems the Darcy family is unique in their civility and good sense. Others among the gentry hold themselves as being higher. But it provides good fodder for her father, she supposes. ]
Not yet a week ago, the Bingleys and Hursts arrived to expand our party. And a dance master arrived to help refresh me on the most popular ones. Miss Darcy said it was for her benefit too, but I see no fault in her at all. I am the one who has always sat and played, but now I am expected to dance at her ball tonight.
[ It's caused her no small amount of anxiety to not be able to play and instead be expected to dance. To deny anyone would be considered rude, but Mary is really not sure if she will be able to recall the proper steps. ]
Well, beyond such events I have been taking daily walks with my sister or Miss Darcy, and I read every night before retiring. This is a far more pleasant place than I expected and I do believe the journey was worth it.
no subject
( atticus is not of the temperament prone to jeremiad or scenes. even in private, he will limit his grievances to a few words and then resign himself to tolerance. but a ball is an onerous task, one that is no less tolerable even as a mere guest. if he had been made aware of the party beforehand, he would have made excuses to put off his arrival until the following day or week. but the vagaries of the gentry let themselves to baubles and nonsense. if not this, there would be another event that could hazard exposure to him. at least with a ball, it will be crowded and chaotic enough that he can disappear into the background and never be noticed. with his simple clothing, he will be invisible to the darcys' affluent guests. perhaps they will mistake him for a servant and barely glance in his direction. wouldn't that be amusing? )
no subject
[ Mary has no idea that it's because Mr. Darcy wants to keep a closer eye on his sister after the disaster that almost befell her under her former chaperone's care. ]
It is unfortunate that you do not have more time to rest after your journey.
[ Simply an accident in scheduling, she's sure. Elizabeth is annoying good at being a hostess, so Mary will allow her this one fault. ]
Perhaps you might beg off dancing due to such a reason.
[ While she is thinking about his health and how tired he might be come this evening, there is a small part of her that hopes he might ask her to dance. It's a silly, foolish hope. No one has ever asked her before, not even out of politeness. When attending assemblies in Meryton, Mary would always sit with the widows and matrons rather than stand awkwardly at the edge of the dance floor while eligible men quickly passed by without making eye contact. Her first few experiences taught her not to hope and to sit instead. However, she doesn't know what will happen tonight, with such family around her. Some gentleman might be pressed upon to oblige her. ]
no subject
atticus laughs, clear in the bright sunlight. ) I shall have you make my excuses tonight then. They will sound more sincere coming from you.
( with his perceived lowly status, perhaps any expectations of dancing are nil. to most, he appears a well-read gentleman, but that could be the extent of his accomplishments. no matter their status, anyone can get their hands on a book and find the time to read if they are determined enough. yet the same cannot be said about dancing. dance masters are expensive, and why find the time for lessons when there are no tangible benefits like there are with reading? )
It will be an act of mercy to spare everyone from my stomps and stumbles, in particular the young lady so unfortunate to be my partner. ( looking down at miss bennet, his mouth pulls to a slight grin. ) Surely your brothers and sisters will applaud that decision.
( having witnessed firsthand how he dances (or rather, does not) at guy faux night, miss bennet can attest to the clumsiness of his steps. while atticus will admit that the awkwardness on that night can be ascribed to being abruptly pulled into a dance, some of it was caused by discomfort. the act of dancing is a public expression of such effusiveness and freedom that atticus cannot bear to unveil. or perhaps, cannot bear to confront. after all, it has been so long since a burning fire was shut up in his bones that could only be freed by dancing. he shan't embarrass himself, his gracious hosts, or his friends.
his familiarity with the current dance is outdated anyway. )
no subject
I am not sure one can applaud being spared if they do not know how your proclaimed lack of skill displays itself.
[ She thinks that's a logical stance to take. ]
I do wish I could excuse myself as well. I am not sure if I will take any pleasure in it, but as a guest who has been given special attention from a dance master, I must make a show of it.
[ There's a slight shake of her head as she manages to stop staring at him. ]
If you mean it, I will make excuses for you. I will tell everyone I made you take a turn with me after your long journey and therefore tired you.
no subject
( a warmth burns from his smile and his eyes when he looks down at her again. but, before she could possibly notice, atticus's gaze turns away back to the vernal atmosphere and freshly bloomed flowers. he clears his throat. ) In any event, you will be preoccupied with your dancing partners. I doubt that as the sister of the master and mistress of the house, you will be lacking.
( while some gentlemen will ask her to dance out of a sense of obligation or obsequiousness towards mr darcy, atticus hopes the others recognise miss bennet's beauty and effervescence and cannot help but want to dance with her to be near it. )
no subject
As you wish. But I assure you, I am quite well on that front. You do not cause me any anxiety. It is only my own performance that causes some of it. But perhaps it is the anticipation of what could be that sits at the front of my mind and when it comes to it I will see such worries were unwarranted.
[ Yes; if she can simply convince herself of her success than anxiety shall not creep in. ]
Oh, I should have asked: do you find yourself hungry? I am sure something light could be prepared to sate you before dinner later.
[ It isn't her intention to sound like mistress of this household, but Mary cannot help but want him to be comfortable in all respects. ]