An Unlikely Acquaintance

Part 32

"I simply can't imagine life without you!" Mrs Gardiner said, with a sad smile as she and Mary worked together on the household mending. She brandished her needle with a smile. "And not simply because you make one of my least-favourite tasks more bearable!" She sighed, setting down her work and viewing her niece with indulgence. "I hope you have enjoyed your time with us, Mary."

"Oh, very much!" Mary's smile was genuine, faltering only when she thought about returning home to Longbourn, to disappointment and invisibility. She had so enjoyed life in London, living with her aunt and uncle and with Georgiana that the thought she must now leave it all behind made her quite melancholy. Bending over her work, she stitched a neat line, looking up only when Mr Gardiner came in, holding out a letter like a gift.

"One for you, Mary! How dreary our post will become once you return home. My poor wife never has so many letters as you have. Mind you, I suppose it is the promise of young ladies to forever be chained to their pens."

"I shall write to you," Mary said, stubbornly, as she took the letter from her uncle's outstretched hand. "That is, if you would like it."

"I would like it very much!" Mrs Gardiner's voice trembled just this side of teary. She made a show of sniffling into her handkerchief, disguising her emotion as a sneeze and Mary split the seal on her letter, smoothing out the paper to read Elizabeth's neat, orderly script.

Dear Mary,

As usual, you have more to report than I do. I am sure life at Longbourn cannot begin to compare with all that you are enjoying in London, still, I will do my best to offer a little news to entertain you until you are back with us and able to enjoy it all yourself.

The first news is a secret I entrust to you precisely because you are not presently at home, and I instruct you now that you must appear delightfully surprised when first you are told of it. I only confide it now because I am itching to tell somebody and I have always felt comfortable entrusting my secrets to pen and paper. Jane is to be married! At least, I imagine she will be. You recall her heartbreak at Mr Bingley's sudden disappearance. I dare say he rallies and enjoys his life just as well now as he did then: gentlemen can be so heartless and are always so quick to forget! But our darling sister has met another gentleman, one far more deserving of her affections, at least I think so. You recall my mentioning to you our new acquaintance Colonel Fitzwilliam...

Mary gasped and let go of the letter in shock, bending down to retrieve it just as her aunt and uncle turned to her in surprise.

"Mary, dear! Whatever is the matter?"

"Not bad news, I hope?"

"No, no." Mary's hand shook as she gripped Lizzy's letter and she read it over a second time and then a third. Her shock soon gave way to delight and she could barely conceal the smile that crept onto her face as she folded the letter up. "It is good news! It seems as if Jane is about to find happiness!" Something stopped her from saying more, but it could not hurt to share that little glimmer with her aunt and uncle, could it?

"Good," Mr Gardiner said shortly. "That Brinkley fellow finally come to his senses and written to her?"

Mary's smile fell as she remembered that however happy she was to hear Jane's news, there was one person at least who would not be. Mr Bingley had made efforts every time his path crossed Mary's to enquire after Jane. Surely his feelings towards her remained unchanged, and he had no idea that she was only days away from agreeing to marry another - perhaps, even, the arrangements had already been made!

"Oh dear," Mary murmured, opening the letter again to see if Elizabeth had made any other mention of Mr Bingley. Mary herself had been brief on the details, for of all the friends she had seen in London it was Georgiana - and by extension Mr Darcy - she spoke of most often. Perhaps I ought to have mentioned Mr Bingley more, or written directly to Jane. She bit down hard on her lip, certain that there must have been some way to avoid this misunderstanding, had she only been more active.

And yet, no! It was not entirely out of Mr Bingley's hands, surely! He - or his sister - might have written at any moment. And they seem to show no inclination to return to Hertfordshire. Perhaps he does not care for Jane as I thought. Perhaps he thinks of her as nothing more than a friend. Perhaps...

There was a knock at the door and, at length, Mr Gardiner came back to the parlour accompanied by not one but two guests, guests who made Mrs Gardiner leap to her feet and thrust her sewing basket rapidly out of sight. Mary's heart dropped to her shoes.

"Mr Bingley and Miss Bingley, dear! Come all this way to call on us! Now, isn't that something! Mary, they must be here to say goodbye before you return to Hertfordshire."

His smile bordered on desperate and Mary swallowed past the lump in her throat, folding Elizabeth's letter hastily away and praying Providence would guide her.

"Ah, you are leaving us, Miss Mary!" Mr Bingley said, with a disappointed smile. "Now I do repent of taking quite so long to call! I kept suggesting it, didn't I, Caro? But we never could quite fix on a day, ah, and of course, then..." He trailed off, fumbling some kind of excuse that fell flat when one noticed the look of disdain Caroline Bingley failed to conceal as she glanced around the comfortable, crowded parlour.

"Perhaps I will see about ordering us some tea," Mary said, leaping to her feet and vaulting towards the door before anybody could stop her.

"Yes, tea!" Mrs Gardiner ushered her guests into chairs close to the guttering fire and her husband strove to engage them in conversation, speaking vaguely of business and then the weather with such enthusiasm that Mr Bingley could not help but be made to feel very much at home almost immediately, even if his sister remained aloof and disapproving. It was only when Mary returned that she heard her uncle, casting around for another topic of conversation, betray the very secret she had been determined to keep.

"...you must forgive us, for we are all at sixes and sevens, what with the news about Jane."

"What news about Jane?" Mr Bingley's concern was inescapable, his cheery demeanour faltering at the prospect of bad news. "It is not bad?"

"No, indeed! Why, it seems she is to be married!"