Chapter Text
Dearest Gentle Reader,
Her Majesty may have already chosen her Diamond of the Season, but yesterday at the Gardiner’s night of charades one bright young lady shone just as much as Miss Francesca Bridgerton during her presentation and subsequent coronation as the Queen’s chosen one for the past two seasons.
Miss Mary Bennet, recently arrived at London to stay with her relatives, sparkled as she quite swiftly answered riddles that even this Author has to take a breath to come up with a proper answer. Miss Bennet was crowned the victor for the rather upset of one Miss Clarke, who came close in second.
The bright green dress — Spring Green, as this Author came to be informed — with embroidered flowers that Miss Bennet wore certainly added to her radiance, a fitting combination with the lovely bouquet as her prize. Perhaps Miss Bennet would be so kind as to appoint Miss Penelope Featherington — who once again was seen wearing a dress with the most interesting shade of yellow — towards the seamstress that came up with such a charming and flattering design.
One cannot wonder if Miss Bennet plans to delight us once more and make an appearance at other social events. The season, after all, has just begun.
Yours truly,
Lady Whistledown
—
To leave London, Mary had decided, was the best course of action she could take.
It was not one she was taking with even the smallest amount of joy.
She found that she rather enjoyed governessing, and the Gardiner children were a delight, welcoming her with warmth despite their bump start to their lessons.
Even with the return of their governess from the North, her Aunt and Uncle had assured her that there were no scarcity of families in London who would be in need of her services if she decided to, and she was welcome to stay indefinitely with them too even if she did intend to continue as a governess.
Not to mention that her Aunt and Uncle had welcomed her with open arms and with enough love to give her that Mary grew anxious at the thought of going to Pemberley to stay as her mother’s companion, where she could imagine no words of encouragement like Madeline Gardiner gave her would be uttered by her mother.
She also had made a friend, Miss Ann Baxter, with whom she had gone to outings in the park and had had tea with.
There was also Mr. Hayward.
Who had gifted her a poetry book and made a surprise poetry recital in the most fantastic and wondrous garden.
And who had a long standing understanding with Miss Baxter.
Mary would be lying if she could not admit to herself that one of her reasons for leaving London rested with Mr. Hayward.
The quiet but slowly growing feelings she felt taking root in her heart towards him could not be encouraged. Miss Baxter was her dear friend, how could she ever wish for anything but her friend’s happiness while at the same time holding feelings that did not pertain only to friendship concerning Miss Baxter’s arrangement with Mr. Hayward?
She had tried, truly she had tried desperately to crush and diminish those feelings, but they persisted. They refused to be stomped beneath her feet like weeds.
Especially after the poetry recital.
Mary was not one to care for poetry — she maintained her early declaration that it was an area rather too “whimsy” for her taste — but at that moment amidst the soft purple of the wisteria flowers that had transformed a small part of grey London into a garden straight out of a fairy tale, Mr. Hayward’s soft and low voice reciting stanzas from memory about the wonders of the city and nature, she had felt herself overcome with emotion.
Uh oh, the thought arrived sharp at her as Mr. Hayward declared the first verses of the poem.
Oh no, came right after that as she looked properly at him, his warm brown eyes infinitely kind as they locked gazes.
Oh, was all she could think as she felt a single lonely tear slowly fall from her eye, Mr. Hayward having finished the poem.
Later when they were talking near a low hanging tree and his hand had moved in the direction of her face — she had a petal on her hair, he had said with a small smile — Mary felt her heart missing a beat, the feelings she fiercely tried to gather close to her chest slipping through her fingers.
She had flinched and blurted out in a panic that she would leave London. To cater to her mother, who was sick and alone.
Had said that Mr. Hayward would scarcely have time to notice that she was gone given how busy his life would be, amidst social engagements and time spent with Miss Baxter.
With whom he had an understanding.
Mr. Hayward had said nothing to that, only letting out a weak “Right…”.
The Gardiners had tried to convince her to stay, but when she wanted to, Mary was just as headstrong as Elizabeth could be.
No, she would post the letter she had written to her mother so it could be delivered to Pemberley and she could leave London on the 18th, as planned.
That being decided, the Gardiner’s night of games would be one of the last social events she would probably take part in before she left. So, at her Aunt’s urging, she would try her best to enjoy it.
Wearing the green dress with white lace that she had chosen with her Aunt, Mary walked into the Gardiner’s parlor to find it quite full already. Feeling a bit overwhelmed when faced with so many people she had not yet been introduced to, she decided to go to the punch table in the quieter part of the space.
To her surprise, there was already someone there, a young lady perhaps the same as Kitty, with red hair artfully arranged in a curly updo. The bright yellow dress she wore made Mary immediately take a liking to her.
Mary decided that it would not hurt to approach the girl and make her acquaintance. Afterall, she had taken a similar attitude with Miss Baxter and they had become good friends.
“Good evening,” Mary said, curtising“Mary Bennet, pleased to make your acquaintance”
“G-good evening,” the young girl stuttered back, appearing surprised to be addressed “Penelope Featherington”
“Your dress is quite lovely, Miss Featherington” Mary said, smiling at the girl. She had never been one to talk about current fashion trends or ribbons, however, after her outing to the haberdasher with her Aunt Gardiner — and her fortuitous meeting with Mr. Hayward, but that was something she did not linger on — she found she had quite enjoyed it.
Kitty and Lydia used to spend hours talking about ribbons and lace and just what was recently en haute amongst polite society, so she was certain that was a safe topic to approach. She would not want to bore Miss Featherington with her talks of geology.
Yet that seemed like the wrong thing to say, for the young miss paled, her shoulders inching inwards as in embarrassment.
Oh dear, Mary quickly realised she had made a huge faux pas, Miss Featherington’s reaction reminding herself of when her mother belittled her.
“I think yellow is such a colourful shade, my sisters enjoy wearing it, as does my mother,” she was babbling, she knew she ought to apologise and excuse herself but the words just kept coming “I saw a lovely shade of yellow when I went to the haberdasher, if I recall it was called ‘Tuscany yellow’.”
Miss Featherington could only blink at her, clearly confused and a bit startled at the onslaught of words Mary was raining upon her.
“Mother always says I have a horrible complexion, no shade of yellow would ever look good on me,” she gave a tight smile, realising she had perhaps said too much “It looks very flattering on you however, especially with hair. Such a pretty shade of orange!”
“Would you like some punch? My Aunt Gardiner always serves incredible punch at her events I hear,” Mary added, filling a glass for herself in hopes of hiding her embarrassment for her conduct.
“I think…” Miss Featherington softly said, a small smile on her face as she realised that Mary had not intended to mock her “I think your mother is wrong. I think yellow would suit you perfectly, Miss Bennet.”
“Your green dress is quite lovely, bright colours suit you” she added, getting herself a glass of punch.
“Spring green, actually” Mary corrected, adjusting her spectacles “Thank you, Miss Featherington, that is most kind.”
“I had not seen you before in town Miss Bennet,” Miss Featherington remarked, a glint of curiosity in her eyes “Are you recently arrived?”
“Oh, oh yes I am from Hertfordshire. I arrived but a fortnight ago, to stay with my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner.” Mary took a sip of punch, her throat suddenly parched “Although I shall be leaving on the 18th, to stay as a companion to my mother.”
“Oh, that is a shame” and Miss Featherington truly looked a bit regretful at the idea of Mary, whom she only knew for a few minutes at most, leaving so soon “The season has just begun.”
“Well, my mother is quite alone you see,” Mary refilled her glass, just to do something to keep herself busy.
How have we arrived at such a topic, she wondered with anxiety, I just wanted to talk about colours like I did with Mr. Hayward and make a new acquaintance!
Once again her thoughts returned unbound to Mr. Hayward, no matter how much she tried to avoid it, which frustrated her even more.
“Perhabs you could—” but whatever it was that Miss Featherington was about to say got interrupted by the someone clearing their throat.
The two ladies turned around to see a gentleman standing behind them, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Sorry, I did not realise there was a line,” Mary said, realising she stood directly in front of the punch table, blocking anyone’s attempt to serve themselves, Miss Featherington standing a bit to the side, closer to the wall.
“No, please” he replied with a teasing smile “I wish more people had such a restrained relationship with punch.”
Mary furrowed her brows, a bit puzzled at the interaction.
“May I?” he pointed at the punch bowl, and Mary promptly scrambled to get out of the way.
“Oh, yes, of course,” she let out a nervous chuckle.
“Noble defender of the punch!” the gentleman did salute, and Mary felt her nerves calming a little at the prospect that he had not found her rude by blocking access to the beverage.
“I surrender my post,” she tentatively replied, a small note of teasing in her voice that made the gentleman glance at her with surprise, pleased.
“And what brings you here — the word games or the company?” he inquired, taking a sip of his drink.
“I like words,” Mary confessed, and that was true. She found pleasure in reading new books and articles and discovering new terms from Latin and other languages, how they had been translated and adapted to English.
“Erm, I am not much for games,” she added with a wince, noticing that Miss Featherington had left them somehow without her noticing.
Mary felt a pang in her chest at that, she had quite enjoyed her short conversation with the ginger haired miss. feeling a certain kinship with her.
“Ah! Then is the company you have come for” the young man declared with triumph, apparently oblivious to the fact that initially there had been two people at the table before he had arrived “Miss…?”
“Bennet. Mary Bennet” Mary informed, curtsying.
“William Ryder,” Mr. Ryder bowed back.
“And where have you come from, Miss Bennet?” Mr. Ryder asked with a raised eyebrow “Surely I would have remembered seeing you near punch bowls across London.”
“I am…new in town” she could be mysterious for one night, Mary decided with a teasing smile that one would frequently see gracing Lizzie’s face, her elder sister being known for dearly liking to laugh.
“Well, I for one am always pleased to see a new face!” Mr. Ryder was showing himself to be a good conversationalist, not being put off by Mary’s short answers or quizzical remarks.
A bell rang before any of them could say anything else, Mr. Gardiner’s voice soon announcing for everyone to gather at the sitting room and take their seats for the start of the games.
“I see the riddles are about to commence,” Mr. Ryder turned to refill his glass, “We are wise to begin with full glasses”
Mary nodded in agreement, walking in the direction of the sitting room to hopefully snag a chair to sit down. She had no idea how long the games would go on for, and she did not enjoy the prospect of having to stay standing for the duration of the night.
What she did not see was Mr. Ryder turning to find her gone, giving a confused but somewhat amused smile as he left the punch table behind to join the others.
And what neither of them had seen was that Miss Penelope Featherington had not left the room but simply moved to stand almost glued to the wall near an armchair, where the light did not reach that well and where she could watch Mary and Mr. Ryder interacting with a curious and pensive look in her eyes.
—
“HEARTACHE!” Mary shouted as she got up from her seat, so lost in the game that she forgot herself to behave more ladylike. If Mrs. Bennet could see her, she would most certainly have pursed her lips and made some type of remark of how Mary uncouth behaviour was the cause of her lack of suitors.
But Mrs. Bennet was not there.
In fact, Mrs. Bennet's voice that used to wander around Mary’s mind distributing anecdotes in regards to her behaviour, manner of talking, dressing and even breathing had been quiet ever since the game of charades had started.
No, amidst the cheers and support for her winning answer Mary’s head was miraculously clear, her chest so full of joy and contentment that nothing could distract her from her good mood.
She had never felt more proud of herself.
“I am very glad that we arrived in time to see you crowned Miss Bennet,” Mr. Hayward was the first to approach her, his smiles lines deep as he practically beamed at her, eyes sparkling behind his spectacles.
“Thank you,” Mary answered with a smile so big she felt her cheeks hurt, her muscles unused to such effort.
She had never had much reason to smile during her time in Longbourn afterall.
“I would like to say,” Mr. Hayward began after taking a deep breath, “I felt—”
“Miss Bennet, you are a liar!” Mr. Ryder exclaimed, promptly cutting Tom off.
“Am I?” Mary looked at the two gentlemen, her smile still firmly in place.
“You told me that you were not much for games!” Ryder said with a reproachful yet playful look at Mary.
“Well, I…” Mary let out a laugh, shaking her head “I can’t catch”
That made her two companions laugh, Tom with a knowing glint on his eyes recalling their two person game of Graces.
“Miss Bennet, I have been meaning to invite you to tea since I hear that you are very sadly leaving London?” Miss Baxter said, having approached the group, furrowing her eyebrows in distress.
The comment made Tom loose his smile, his face becoming quite serious.
“Miss Bennet, certainly not!” Ryder declared with indignation “You cannot deprive the game players of London your… your riddling talents!”
“A round of applause for our winner, Miss Bennet!” Madeline Gardiner looked positively delighted and proud as she urged the room to congratulate her niece once more, carrying a bouquet of flowers that she gifted to Mary “Well done!”
Mary looked at flowers and around the room overjoyed, her heart filled with so much happiness that she felt herself close to bursting at the seams as the room reigned praises over her, bowing in gratitude.
“I never doubted you,” Ryder whispered to her, a knowing smirk on his face as he bid her goodbye.
No sooner had Ryder left her side his place was taken up by Penelope Featherington, who was accompanied by a young lady, her baby blue dress and thick, chestnut brown hair making quite the contrast against Penelope’s yellow dress and bright red hair.
“That was the most electric game of charades I have ever been part of!” she said, her bright blue eyes sparkling “Did you see the look on Miss Clarke’s face? Oh that was so satisfying, no one ever wins against her in charades”
“With the exception of Pen, of course,” she added, nudging her friend, “but she is rather shy in public to say her answers out loud, so her points are never accounted for. You should take a page out of Miss Bennet’s book Pen”
Mary only blinked at her, unsure who this new lady was.
“Eloise, are you not forgetting something?” Penelope pointed with a nod in Mary’s direction, shaking her head in exasperation but with a fond smile.
“Oh forgive me, where are my manners” Eloise righted herself, trying to keep a straight face as she bobbed a curtsy “Miss Eloise Bridgerton, pleased to meet you”
“Mary Bennet” Mary curtsied back, glancing at Penelope.
“Eloise was most impressed by your quick thinking Miss Bennet” Penelope said with a smile “She loves to read extensively, but even she did not know as many answers as you did.”
“Oh really? What do you enjoy, Miss Bridgerton?” Mary could not help recalling one of her first conversations with Mr. Hayward, smiling fondly at the memory as she remembered how he appeared shocked at her declaration that poetry was too “whimsy” for her.
“A bit of everything really. But lately I have been favouring women’s literature, especially Mary Wollstonecraft’s works” Eloise explained, arching her eyebrows as if to dare Mary to discredit her taste for books.”
“Oh, I have not yet found the chance to read any of her works. Sadly the bookshop in Meryton had a selection of books mostly consisting of men, and my father thought it too expensive to have a book brought all the way from London.” Mary declared with a bit of frustration, deciding to better omit the fact that he found it too expensive to bring a book that talked about those topics to Longbourn.
In reality, when he was alive Mr. Bennet had never found any problem in splurging to bring books he considered deserving of being part of the Longbourn Library.
“But I shall certainly acquire one now that I am in London” Mary assured her.
“What do you enjoy reading, Miss Bennet?” Eloise asked, warming up considerably towards the other lady.
“Well, mostly historical or philosophical texts, Miss Bridgerton. I am particularly inclined to Catharine Macaulay’s works” Mary said, adjusting her spectacles.
“Ah, I have tried reading The History of England but I am still in the second volume I fear”
“But maybe making your acquaintance might inspire me to apply myself more!” Eloise declared with a smile “Penelope talked very well of you and after that incredible display of talent I had to make an introduction.”
“It was merely a passing commentary” Penelope blushed deeply, embarrassed at Eloise exposing how warmly she had talked about Mary after their conversation near the punch table.
“Anyone in Pen’s good book is automatically in mine as well, so you must allow me to call on you while you remain in London. Lord knows we need more open minded and rational women around ton” Eloise said, rolling her eyes “It was truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Bennet.”
“Me too, Miss Bridgerton” Mary looked at Penelope, smiling “And yours too Miss Featherington.”
They said their goodbyes, and as she stood there by herself, Mary started to question if leaving London truly was the best course of action she could take.
She recalled the intriguing talk with her Aunt about bonnets.
Maybe she could stay and try new bonnets.
London was so diverting, with much to entertain after all.
As the guests slowly made their leave, Madeline took the opportunity to talk to her niece.
“Mary, how you shone!”
“Thank you, Aunt” Mary gave her a smile, blushing.
“You even caught the attention of the most bachelor in town!” Madeline added with a wink, her voice full of mirth, a trait she shared with her older niece, Elizabeth, non blood relations notwithstanding.
On the other side of the room, Tom stood near Mr. Gardiner as he said his goodbyes, but he could not help but glance back at Mary.
He had never seen her so… so proud of herself.
So full of life and contentment.
That had been his intention with his poetry recital, to evoque that exact reaction from her.
He felt himself deflate a little at the realisation that he had royally failed in his endeavour to convince Miss Bennet to stay in London, looking down and furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as his chest ached at the thought.
“I… I’ve been thinking” Mary began, hesitating a little as she looked in her Aunt’s eyes “Uh, it seems such a shame to leave London before I have given it a fair chance”
Madeline nodded encouragingly at her, trying to hold back a smile.
“I think I might like to stay a little while,” Mary continued, “if it is not too much burden?”
“It is not a burden to us at all!” Madeline assured her firmly, shaking her head fondly at her niece “We are delighted to have you with us”
Happily planting a kiss on Mary’s cheek, Madeline went back to bid the rest of the guests goodbye, leaving Mary to stay in the middle of the room with her bouquet.
She moved to one of the armchairs near the fire, sighing in contentment as she sat down and giddily looked at her winning prize.
Yes, she would be staying in London.
And with a smile that after tonight may never leave her face, Mary looked forward to what more wonders London would present to her.
The more time she spent in town, the more she realised how little she knew. About herself and the world, which was much bigger and brighter than her life back in Longbourn.
It felt right now that the next thing she might experience may change her entirely.