It wasn’t over yet, the infuriating conversation outside continued!
“I’ve just remembered, that figure looked a lot like the other Mary running out of the church that day. Do you think it could have been her?” Mary wasn’t finished yet, adding even more weight to make her story convincing. “It’s no wonder I’d think that, either, she clearly has feelings for you, and it wouldn’t be at all strange for her to be too restless to sleep and come looking at you in the night!”
“Wasn’t her hand hurt that very day? Perhaps she was thinking of you so much, she grew careless.”
“Even if that’s true, it changes nothing. I couldn’t possibly indulge her feelings just because she has them. Mary, we’re already married, anyone else’s feelings have nothing to do with us. If it really was her, I’ll go have a word with Mr. Bennet myself. And even if it wasn’t her, I still don’t want her disturbing us.”
Octavius played along with the impromptu script well enough, though as he kept talking, the words coming out of his mouth had started to feel less and less like acting.
Just a little while ago, Mary had grabbed his hand and pulled him along, and he’d nearly not known how to react! The one doing the pulling probably hadn’t even realized what she’d done, right now she was simply focused on making the performance convincing. But for a man who’d been putting on acts for years, this was nothing at all.
So Octavius still found room to drift, reflecting on that handhold from a moment ago, brief as it had been.
From shock, to acceptance, to something like fondness, he’d already compared this to the handholds from that day at Baring’s Bank. If that day’s contact had been ceremonial, then today’s was unmistakably unplanned.
Mary’s hand wasn’t even softer than his own, a mark left by years of soap-making. And yet, somehow, that very roughness gave him a sense of comfort.
Holding her hand, Octavius felt grounded, unburdened. All he needed to think about was whether today’s weather would be good enough, and whether it might affect the curing of the two soaps up on the third floor. Or whether tomorrow’s leaf lard delivery would go smoothly.
Small matters, all of them, and yet he found himself enjoying turning them over again and again in his mind.
If it weren’t for the girl behind that door, it would be even better. No, no, her presence was necessary too. Because of her, the two of them got to put on this little performance, and it had felt quite convincing.
Especially the way Mary had spoken, she’d sounded almost exactly like a real wife. When she’d said the other Mary had feelings for him, her expression hadn’t looked the least bit staged.
Perhaps, he’d soon get the positive answer he was hoping for.
“That should be about enough, shouldn’t it?” With everything said, the other Mary behind the door surely understood by now that they were talking about her, so how must she be feeling right now?
Mary Bennet didn’t know herself, all she wanted was to hurry home and lock her bedroom door tight! But she couldn’t leave yet, because both the man she hated and the man she loved were right outside that door!
“Mary, are you all right?” The vicar could clearly see something was troubling the young woman before him, and understood well enough that what was being said outside matched exactly what the girl had just confessed.
Who would have guessed, this little village had turned out to be quite lively after all. No wonder His Highness liked coming out this way so much. He just wondered what sort of woman this newly appointed Duchess of Cambridge really was, that she’d be worth His Highness marrying.
If she really was nothing more than a simple country girl, what on earth would happen down the road!
The Prince of Wales alone was difficult enough to deal with, let alone the estranged Princess of Wales, who was no easier to cross. And then there were the princesses, each one more formidable than the last.
“We’ll know soon enough how effective this was.” Octavius’s next line thoroughly drained whatever strength remained in the person behind the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll go pay Mr. Bennet a visit myself once I’m back.” That last line, spoken with particular emphasis, was meant for the person inside.
“You’re really going to visit him?” With the performance over, the two of them settled back into the carriage.
“Something has to be settled properly, I prefer to be thorough about these things.” That earlier performance had been meant to keep her living in fear, the visit that followed would cut off any possibility at the root.
If Mr. Bennet could take the point, all the better for everyone. If he chose to indulge his daughter instead, well, there was no telling how that would end.
Back in Longbourn, Mary didn’t accompany him further. Since he was going specifically to speak with Mr. Bennet alone, what would she even do, chat with Mrs. Bennet? With nothing in common to talk about, it seemed better not to go at all.
He returned before long, in under half an hour!
“That fast?”
“I only needed to lay things out plainly. Mr. Bennet understands his own daughter well enough. And besides, this whole matter isn’t exactly a secret within the Bennet household.” Octavius had gone straight to the point once there, saying his daughter’s behavior was inappropriate. If it wasn’t put a stop to, everyone in Longbourn would soon see through her feelings for himself.
An unmarried nineteen-year-old girl setting her sights on a married man, that was a scandal in itself!
The Bennets’ eldest daughter still wasn’t married yet, and though the youngest daughter’s elopement scandal had been suppressed, it would be far too easy to bring back up.
“He’s already decided to send that Mary off to London for a while, to stay with his wife’s brother’s family. Don’t worry, she won’t be troubling you again.” Once she was in London, matters would resolve themselves far more easily.
“Well, that settles it then. Although it’s a pity about the road that got damaged.” Even though the hole had already been filled in, this simply shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
Sending her away wasn’t a bad thing, either, perhaps once she was in London, meeting more people, her thoughts would change.
“No pity about that at all, I only mentioned her feelings, not what she actually did.” That way, they’d assume only one thing had been exposed, while the other, unspoken worry would continue gnawing at her mind. “I also mentioned in passing that I had my suspicions about the road, and Mr. Bennet condemned whoever had damaged it, just as I did.”
Perhaps the marks from that day had already faded, but when it came time to fill the hole in, someone had apparently voiced suspicion. A road that had stood fine for years wouldn’t be ruined by just one rainstorm, and certainly not in such a small, isolated patch.
So most people were inclined to believe it had been deliberately damaged, even without a clear suspect to point to.
“The way you tell it, I can already picture the day the Bennet household suddenly brings this topic up again. Someone’s expression in that moment is bound to be quite something.” Well, so be it, that would do.
December 1st marked Mary’s nineteenth birthday. With Mr. and Mrs. Richman gone, she made no particular mention of it herself.
A day later, Mary Bennet was sent off to London. To everyone else, of course, it was simply described as a routine visit between relatives.
After delivering the 4,800 bars of milk soap on December 5th, Mary also found herself facing a parting of her own. To her, the parting itself wasn’t the concerning part, what mattered was that she still hadn’t settled on her answer.
In fact, over these past few days spent together, she’d come to realize that even though her husband had been cut out of the line of inheritance, he still had no shortage of resources at his disposal. After asking his steward about the price of the custom carriage, several interior design sketches had already been sent over.
Choosing the “plainest” option, Mary had paid a 30-pound deposit.
There was also the matter of the other Mary, the vicar involved in that scheme had been arranged by him too. In a very short time, he’d found exactly the right person, someone who’d even managed to win Bennet’s trust.
Even here in Longbourn, this man could move freely in and out of her workroom, even pick up stirring tools to help, and yet what Mary saw more and more clearly was just how far from ordinary he really was.
A man with an overwhelming advantage in looks, a man who could have any request met at any time, a man surrounded by people who were themselves valuable resources, could she really take a chance on someone like that?
Setting emotion aside, Mary’s reason had firmly taken the upper hand. Call it cowardice, call it fear of trouble, she felt, at this stage, that maintaining the status quo was simply the better choice.
As for that faint trace of feeling that had surfaced earlier, there was no need to deny it, and no need to erase it either. Everyone had their weaknesses for money and good looks, she was simply no exception.
Compared to committing to something serious, Mary’s thinking right now was simpler. Perhaps once the two of them knew each other a bit better, she could try suggesting something of her own.
A beautiful person, right there before her eyes, of course she still coveted a taste of it. If she ever did get the chance, she certainly wouldn’t regret it!
Of course, that would have to wait until she turned twenty. Another year, and the two of them would be even more familiar with each other, making the decision far less difficult.
“So you won’t agree, may I know why?” Getting this answer, Octavius wasn’t entirely surprised, but he did feel some disappointment. He supposed he was owed a reason.
“To be honest, at first I meant to say yes. But once I calmed down, I still felt it was too impulsive. We’ve known each other far too short a time, and I don’t want to end up regretting it later.” What Mary offered was the truth, though not the whole of it. “I think there’s no need for us to fix a strict deadline on this.”
“After all, we’re already married, my saying no this time doesn’t mean I’ll still say no the next time.” As she spoke, Mary looked into those deep blue eyes.
Her fondness for him was real, whether it had started with his looks or something else, that feeling itself wasn’t a lie. But feeling alone simply wasn’t enough.
“Very well, then I’ll look forward to your next answer.” Octavius smiled, he understood exactly what Mary’s eyes were telling him, and he’d seen the feelings she hadn’t bothered to hide.
Since that was the case, he could wait.
“Safe travels, Tavi.”
Once he’d left, the Richman house returned to how it had always been.
December had arrived, and the new year was fast approaching. Betsy and Molly would soon be heading home, and Old John and the others would leave only one person behind. Thomas and Henderson, though, weren’t going anywhere, they’d stay on for good.
With that many people still around, even without Mr. and Mrs. Richman here, Mary didn’t feel lonely at all.
On the 15th, the last of the fattened pigs were finally sold off, and Mary delivered a full 9,600 bars of milk soap to the army in one go. The delivery scheduled for the 20th was sent ahead of time, and the delivery for the 25th, Christmas Day itself, was postponed to the 30th.
Once home, she handed out this year’s bonuses to everyone.
Each person received a dozen bars of milk soap, one bushel of potatoes, and five one-pound banknotes.
“Thank you all for your hard work this year. Next year, we’ll do even more for everyone.” At this rate, giving each person ten pounds next year certainly wasn’t out of the question.
Once everyone had gone, the Richman house grew truly empty and quiet.
In past years around this time, Meryton would host balls, and the local gentry would gather for country hunting parties. Longbourn always sent plenty of people to join in, but Mary was never among them. Rather than join the festivities, she much preferred working quietly alone in her workroom.
With Betsy and Molly away for now, she couldn’t afford to stop either.
Come the new year, she’d definitely need another set of soap-making equipment. And she should hire a dedicated stirrer at that point too, to save everyone a great deal of effort.
The more soap she made, the more molds she’d need to keep up. As for markets, relying solely on the army was too risky, and the London partners’ orders were far too small, she needed to find new partners.
On Christmas Day, while every household gathered in celebration, Mary was up on the third floor turning soap. On the 30th, another 9,600 bars of milk soap needed to go to the army, and she had to make sure the delivery went smoothly.
“Ma’am, someone’s here—” Downstairs, Thomas called out.
“Coming.” Hearing him, Mary immediately closed the door and went down.
It was a carriage, and a rather familiar one, at that. What, had the man who’d only just left a few days ago already come back?
But the person who stepped out was only his steward, William.
“Ma’am, Merry Christmas, this is a holiday gift from the master.” This year the King had taken all his children to Brighton for the New Year, complete with balls and hunting parties, a lively affair indeed.
Unfortunately, His Highness was, once again, absent. Not only because no one had thought to invite him, but also because he had matters keeping him busy.
But however busy he was, His Highness hadn’t forgotten the wife he’d left behind here.
“A gift too? Where is he?” Mary took the box, if whatever was inside was too extravagant, she certainly couldn’t accept it.
“The master is busy tending to some matters left over from last month.” William watched as the mistress opened the gift box, and, upon seeing what was inside, actually let out a sigh of relief.
Was that… a land deed? And to land beyond the Richman family’s existing 200 acres, no less?!