A Match for Mary Bennet Read Online Free Page A

Darcy, said truthfully, “I am indeed proud of her.”
    Colonel Fitzwilliam found Mary a good listener and sounded her out on the subject of marriage. She tersely referred him to Kitty as one who took more interest in the subject than she did. Surprised at her seeming indifference to the state, he opened his mind to her, conscious that she knew two of the ladies he had been considering for marriage. “Do you know Miss Georgiana Darcy?”
    â€œYes. That is, I met her at Elizabeth’s wedding and again at both of Pemberley’s Christmas balls.” She closed her eyes and willed him to stop questioning her.
    â€œDo you like her?”
    â€œVery much. She plays the pianoforte beautifully.” Mary glanced down to watch her feet.
    â€œAnd do you know Miss Caroline Bingley?”
    Must this tiresome patter continue? “Oh yes, even better than I know Miss Darcy. She lived with Charles and my sister Jane at Netherfield before they moved to the North.” She hoped her longer answer would satisfy him.
    But no, he kept on. “And do you like her as well?”
    â€œOh no, not as well as Miss Darcy.” Mary knew she was frowning, and she saw that he was too. She must have disappointed him. What could she say? Pope’s words about “truth and candour” swam in her mind with her mother’s dictum to smile while dancing. She hastened to add, “But Miss Bingley tries to be pleasant, in a regal sort of way.” She had almost said “haughty,” but she caught his eyes on her and did not wish to displease him. “And she plays very well also.” Music was important to Mary’s assessment. The dance went on and on, and so did Fitzwilliam. Mary’s being able to talk at all while dancing must have been the result of rhythm acquired at the pianoforte. But must this man tax her so?
    â€œI confess, I mean to ask someone to marry me, and I really cannot decide.” Fitzwilliam had not intended to reveal so much, but his brain was more tired than his feet.
    To Mary, this was an utterly perplexing problem. “And… must you marry?”
    The sour, dispirited face of Miss de Bourgh leaped to his imagination. “Oh yes.”
    Mary’s feet actually stopped entirely, and she regarded him, eyes wide. It had never occurred to her that a man must marry, at least not unless he had incurred the wrath of some lady’s family, as Wickham had with Lydia. But this could hardly be the Colonel’s situation if he knew not whom to marry. Finally she recovered the rhythm of movement, and after awhile she asked, “And the lady does not matter?” The music drew to a merciful close, and Mary relaxed. She curtsied.
    The Colonel took her hand and they walked the long way around to where her mother sat. “Well, more than one would suit my purpose equally well.”
    He looked at her and seemed to request a response, but Mary was at a loss. Logical as she wished to be, the problem eluded her. “Then… then I suppose you must choose the lady who would be most pleased to marry you.” She hoped that was reasonable, but she feared his puzzle was beyond her powers and a bit unfair, as it seemed one in which reason played a small part.
    Happily, the Colonel smiled as if pleased. “A wonderful solution! You have helped a great deal.” And his gracious thanks as he returned her to her mother rang so genuinely hearty that Mrs. Bennet smiled her pleasure after him.
    As he went off to find Catherine, Mrs. Bennet turned her radiant geniality to Mary. “What a noble conquest you have made!”
    Mary kept to herself the exact nature of her “conquest,” which would not have pleased her mother. At any rate, the smile soon faded from Mrs. Bennet’s face as Mr. Grantley entered the brilliant hall from the dimly lit foyer. “Oh no. There is that odious man!” The young MP who had taken Netherfield’s lease irritated all