B00BKPAH8O EBOK (27 page)

“Well?” he
prompted nervously. “Do you have an answer for me, Mary, or do you need more
time?”

“No!” she
exclaimed, jolted out of her reverie.

“No? Is that
your answer?” He looked horrified at the prospect.

“Yes… I… I mean
no.” Mary shook herself and tried again. “No, I do not need more time and… and
yes, I will marry you, Mr. Farnsworth, happily.”

A mixture of
powerful emotions played across his face – surprise, gratitude, and
overpowering joy, it appeared. The sight spoke more profoundly than words, and
Mary was well satisfied.

“Then you must
call me Harrison,” Farnsworth said matter-of-factly when he had regained
mastery of himself. He drew Mary’s gloved hand through to rest on his arm, and
they started slowly down the path again. “But are you certain, absolutely
certain?” he asked after a minute, turning to look at her.

Mary nodded.
“There can be no doubt of it. I do love you… with all my heart, for I have been
truly miserable without you these months, without you and the children. Nothing
will make me happier than to become your wife.” Unaccountably, she began to
cry, and once begun, could not stop.

Farnsworth
pulled Mary close so that her cheek rested against his chest and her tears
soaked into the rough fibers of his great coat. “There, there,” he said
awkwardly. “If that be the case, my dear, you might start by trying to look the
tiniest bit happy now, else no one will ever believe you.”

Mary sobbed all
the louder.

“Forgive me,”
she said minutes later, drawing back slightly and blotting her face with the
handkerchief Farnsworth had provided her. “I am not usually prone to fits of
crying; at least I never used to be.”

“No need to
apologize. This has been a tumultuous year for you, beginning with your father’s
death. These kinds of things cannot help leaving an impression on a person, or
so they ought to do.”

“But I despise
excessive sentiment. It is a weakness.” She looked up then and saw that his own
eyes glistened with unshed tears.

He took both
her hands in his. “If sentiment is a weakness, my dear Mary, then I think it is
one of which you need not be ashamed. I believe it may be why I fell in love
with you, in truth.”

“Indeed? How
so?”

“Well, I
already had great respect for your strength of character and intellect. Then,
every now and again, I would catch a glimpse of the person who had let her
protective armor slip just a bit; the one who risked all to stand up for my
children, even against their own father, and yet was vulnerable herself; the
one who might need something I had to offer after all.”

Mary felt a
tremendous welling up of love and tenderness as she studied the face of her
newly betrothed, only inches from her own. Love, yes, but there was something
more too – a yearning, a desire for intimacy beyond what she had ever
experienced before. She found herself inwardly straining towards an anticipated
oneness with this man. Drawing a fraction closer to him, she tilted her head to
one side.

Farnsworth
understood and bent his mouth to hers in a gentle kiss.

The first brush
of his soft lips sent a delicious shiver all through Mary’s body, and she
unconsciously responded with added fervor, pressing more tightly against him. A
tide of longing she had not known existed released in that moment, washing over
her in a bittersweet blend of anguish and rapture – anguish for what had been
missing all these years, and rapture that it was finally to be hers.
He
was finally to be hers: Mr. Harrison Farnsworth. It was too much to fathom, too
wonderful to believe. Mary could not contain her emotions, and as they kissed
again, quiet tears flowed once more.  

48

Important Communications

They had
wandered far along the path that bordered the lake and the stream at its outlet
when Mary broke the pensive silence with a question. “Harrison, do you think
the children will approve of our plans to wed? Will they be happy to have a new
mother… to have
me
as their new mother?”

He turned to
her with a broad grin. “You need have no worries on that head, my dear. I told
the children what I hoped to accomplish by coming here, and I received a very
enthusiastic endorsement of the plan from each one.”

So gratified
was Mary at hearing this that she could only return his smile with shining
eyes.

“What about
your family, Mary? Is there anybody I should speak to or ask for your hand?”

“I am of age
and may do as I please. Perhaps you might speak to Mr. Darcy, though, just as a
courtesy. I count him as an elder brother, and with Papa gone…”

“Yes, of
course. He may well be sorry to see you go from Pemberley. And yet he will have
no one to blame but his own wife, for it was Mrs. Darcy’s letter that brought
me here. I nearly went mad searching for you in London after Michael recovered.
You cannot imagine what a relief it was to at last receive some news of you.”

“That is a
letter I would very much like to see for myself.”

“Then you
shall,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket.

Mary accepted
the missive from his hand and read.

To Mr. H. Farnsworth

Netherfield Hall, Hertfordshire

Dear Sir,

When you
know my purpose, I trust you will forgive my taking the liberty of writing to
you. I believe (and my husband concurs with me) that you would wish to be made
aware of certain facts relating to my sister, Miss Mary Bennet, late of your
employ. I expect you have long been concerned for her well-being and
whereabouts after she quit Netherfield so abruptly. Should that in fact be the
case, allow me to set your mind at rest. Mary is safe with us here at
Pemberley. It may also interest you to know that my sister has recently
received an offer of marriage from a respected musical gentleman of our common
acquaintance, the acceptance of which she is earnestly considering at this
moment. Unless something or someone should intervene, the next time you see Mary,
I rather expect you will be greeting her as Madam Hubert.

Yours
sincerely,

Mrs.
E. Darcy

P.S. –
Should you ever happen to be traveling in Derbyshire, Mr. Darcy and I would be
delighted to receive you to Pemberley. My sister has always spoken so highly of
you that we have long been desirous of making your better acquaintance.

“It seems I
have much for which to thank my sister,” said Mary, refolding the letter and
returning it to its owner.

“I am deeply
indebted to her as well. Were it not for her timely information, I might have
come too late. Did you indeed intend to accept Monsieur Hubert? Never mind,” he
continued quickly. “It is none of my affair and it no longer matters.”

“We should be
getting back to the house,” said Mary. “Although I would much prefer to stay
out here, alone with you, Monsieur deserves an answer. I owe him that much.”

“Yes, of
course. My gain is his loss, poor fellow.”

The lovers
languidly made their way back toward the house, their progress slowed by their
mutual reluctance to bring the cherished interval to an end. Every picturesque
prospect or natural curiosity along their way served as an excuse for delay,
for conversation, for another coming together in fervent embrace. But at last,
they were on the very porch and could not forestall their entrance into the
house any longer.

“Oh, there you
are,” said Elizabeth, coming into the hall at the sound of the door. She looked
from one to the other of them with a gleam in her eye and a satisfied smile.
“Had you a pleasant walk, Mary?” she said archly.

Mary dropped
her escort’s arm and blushed – very becomingly, as Mr. Farnsworth noticed.

Elizabeth continued. “Yes, I thought a little exercise would put some color into your
cheeks, and now I see that I was right.”

“You are a wise
woman, Mrs. Darcy,” said Mr. Farnsworth. “The turn in the garden has done us
both a world of good, I believe, and I thank you most sincerely for suggesting
it. Now, might I have a word with your husband, if he is at liberty?”

“Of course!
What an excellent notion! You will find him in his library. Henderson will show
you the way. Mary, you must come with me and warm yourself in front of the
fire.”

After a glance
back at Mr. Farnsworth’s retreating form, Mary followed her sister to the
saloon, which was one of the family’s favorite rooms. There, the failing
daylight was supplemented by a cheerful fire casting a warm glow throughout.

“Sit here with
me,” said Elizabeth, leading her sister to the sofa facing the hearth. “Now,
explain yourself. What has happened? I can see by your countenance that you are
not in the same frame of mind as you were earlier today. Tell me, then, will
you be leaving us after all?”

“Oh, Lizzy!”
gasped Mary. “I owe you my happiness. Your letter… Well, my goodness. How did
you know?”

Elizabeth laughed and clapped her hands. “Do you mean I was right? Has he proposed?”

Mary nodded.
“He has indeed, though I can scarce believe it. Oh, that he should love me, of
all people! It is too fantastical. Can you imagine me as mistress of
Netherfield?”

“And why not, I
should like to know?” exclaimed Elizabeth indignantly. “You undervalue
yourself, Mary. You are as worthy of a fine house and a fine husband as any
lady I know, and more worthy than some. Why should you not have your chance?”

“But I still do
not understand how you came to send that letter, Lizzy, how you knew the
truth.”

“I suppose I
did not know the
whole
truth, although I could plainly see your half of
it. As for Mr. Farnsworth, I just had to go on faith. I expected that if he
cared for you, he would know how to act on my information.”

“And if he did
not?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Well, if he did not, then my letter would have done no harm. Are you
very angry with me for sending it? It was a violation of your confidence, I
freely admit.”

“Oh! When I think
how differently things might have transpired had you not sent that blessed
letter, Lizzy! Why, by now I might have been engaged to Monsieur Hubert
instead! Where is he, by the way?”

“Gone. I told
him you had been called away on urgent business and that I could not be certain
when you would be at home again. I did offer myself as a pupil in your place,
with the possibility that you might yet return in time to see him. He had no
patience for my poor performance, however, and I cannot say that I much blame
him. After hearing me, he suggested that, ‘
Perhaps your son, Mrs. Darcy, he
inherits his musical talent from his father, oui?
’” Elizabeth laughed
heartily. “Poor man. I daresay this day has not turned out at all as he had
hoped. In any event, Monsieur Hubert will be staying the night at the inn at
Lambton. He said he must depart by noon tomorrow to keep his next appointment,
and he begs that you would send him some word before then.” 

“Yes, I shall.
I hope he will not be so very disappointed. Oh, and I hope he will consent to
still being my teacher. Do you suppose he is the kind of man who would hold a
grudge against me?”

“Perhaps you
would like to reconsider your decision then, Mary,” her sister teased. “A good
music master is very difficult to come by. In fact, I begin to regret that I
ever championed Mr. Farnsworth’s cause. Should Monsieur Hubert get wind of it,
I may be obliged to find a new instructor for my children as well. What a great
nuisance that would be.”

~~*~~

Mary, who knew
that her next duty was to relate the good news to her mother, was glad to learn
from her sister that she had gone up to her own apartment only a half hour
before. Mary followed her there and made the important communication. The
effect was most extraordinary; for on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet sat quite
still and unable to utter a syllable. Nor was it under many minutes that she
could comprehend what she heard. She began at length to recover, to fidget
about in her chair, to get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless herself.

“Good gracious!
Lord bless me! Is this really true? You are to marry Mr. Farnsworth? Can it be
possible? Of all my daughters, I never would have expected it to be
you
who ended as mistress of Netherfield. You must forgive my underestimating you,
my dear. And never to say a word about it until now. How sly you are. Oh my!
What fine horses and carriages you will have, Mary, and what pin-money! I begin
to feel quite sorry to Kitty, for she will be nothing to you after all. And
what if Mr. Farnsworth is a little gray? He is very well set up and must leave
you a rich widow when the time comes.”

“Mama!” Mary
cried in horror.

“Well, never
mind that. It will be years and years from now, I daresay. Mr. Farnsworth seems
to have a strong enough constitution. But a young wife, you know, could be
overtaxing to a man of his age. You must remember to be careful.”

“Please, Mama.”

“Oh, I am so
very happy! All five daughters married: it is more than I had ever dared to
hope for. I cannot wait to tell my sister Phillips – and that snobbish Mrs.
Elkhorn – about you and about Kitty both. Everybody will have to congratulate
me on my good fortune. And, thanks to you, Mary, we shall yet have one more
wedding from Longbourn!”

Over the course
of the evening, Mary received the best wishes of the other members of her
family as well. They, though likewise surprised and pleased by the news of her
engagement to Mr. Farnsworth, were better able to govern their behavior and
temper their effusions of delight. For this, Mary was grateful. As indisputably
happy as she was, she could not help also feeling embarrassed at occupying the
foreign position as the center of attention.

She was glad,
therefore, for the chance to steal away for a few minutes alone with Mr.
Farnsworth.

“Your family seems
pleased with our news,” he said.

“Of course they
are pleased. Not one of them expected me ever to marry at all, let alone so
well. And they cannot help liking you, Mr. Farnsworth.”

“Harrison, remember?”

“Harrison, then. Oh, how strange that sounds, for I have been used to calling you something
else for nearly five years. It is a fine name, though. Why is it that you did
not pass it on to your son?”

A shadow
flitted across his face. “It was my wife’s doing; she chose the name for her
own reasons. But that is a story for another day. I wish to think only of
agreeable things tonight, my darling, like how soon I can make you my bride.”
He gathered her into his embrace and bent her back to kiss her.

Yes, Mary
thought as she relaxed into his arms, only agreeable things tonight.