Page 13 of Hidden Desires

“Why, Mary Bennet,” Elizabeth said, eyes bright, “what an imp you are. I never suspected you of such cunning.”

Mary, content to let her elder sister form her own conclusions, offered no reply.

“Where should we look first?” Elizabeth asked as they reached the edge of town. “You have come with them before, so you must know what Lydia does when she arrives. I would rather not wander through all of Meryton to find them.”

“We should try the streets near the regiment’s camp.” Mary pointed toward the tent tops visible between the buildings at the far end of town. “She is either there or somewhere close to the officers.”

“You are certain she is not with the younger soldiers?” Elizabeth asked, lifting one brow.

Mary shook her head and laughed. “They try to gain her attention, but she ignores them. When I asked her why, she said an officer’s life seemed more exciting.”

They did not search long. Mary led the way through town and turned a corner, where she stopped short. Lydia stood in conversation with Mr. Denny, and another officer, unknown to them both, watched her with marked interest.

Kitty, as usual pushed aside, lingered nearby with a look of disinterest. Upon seeing her sisters approach, she nudged Lydia with her elbow.

“Papa will not be pleased when I tell him you left the estate without Mary or me,” Elizabeth said as they neared.

Lydia’s conversation continued, despite Kitty’s attempts to interrupt.

“Not only do I find you here against his instructions, but allowing strange men to approach you in full view of the town. Have you no shame?”

She drew a breath and forced calm into her tone. “How many times has he warned you about coming to Meryton alone? Do you ignore him to prove how little his opinion matters? If you are not careful, Papa may decide to confine you to Longbourn altogether.”

“I am not defying him,” Lydia said, her tone sharp with offense.

“Kitty and I came to relieve the monotony at home. I know Mr. Denny and gave him leave to introduce Mr. Roberts. Your rudeness has cast a shadow on the Bennet name. Because of you, he likely thinks us ill-bred and discourteous. Perhaps I should speak to Papa about your conduct.”

“Please do,” Elizabeth said, her hands clenched at her sides. “And when he asks, be sure to tell him that Mary and I set aside our own plans to come find you and Kitty, despite his clear instruction that you were not to visit Meryton alone.”

Lydia’s defiance faltered as Elizabeth spoke. By the end, her posture had softened, her voice gone quiet in a way seldom seen.

“We need to go,” Elizabeth said, her tone more gentle.

“Mama and Papa are both concerned for your safety. They worry that some in the regiment may mistake your boldness for permission, and that you might find yourself in danger you cannot stop. Neither of them want to see you hurt. Come home, where you are safe.”

At Lydia’s nod, Elizabeth turned and led the way down the street. At the first corner, she collided with a man approaching from the opposite direction. Only quick movement kept her from falling.

“Forgive my inattention,” he said, reaching to steady her. “Did I harm you?”

“I am well,” Elizabeth replied, her face warm. “In my haste I stepped around the corner without thought.”

Laughter rang out behind her. Expecting to see Lydia flirting, she turned.

To her surprise, it was Mary who giggled, her head lowered as she gazed at the newcomer with eyes half-lowered and lips parted in a look of innocent curiosity—one that held the man’s attention.

“How nice to see you again, Miss Mary,” he said with a bow. “This allows me to tell you how much I enjoyed our game of whist at Mrs. Phillips’ home last week. I confess that I was surprised at how fast you learned the rudiments of a game you had not played before.”

His smile revealed his humor at the knowledge Mary had fooled him as to her skill with the cards.

“What do you mean?” Mary said, the faintest trace of playfulness in her voice. “Did I claim to be inexperienced? As I recall, it was you who assumed I lacked skill.”

“I concede the point,” Mr. Wickham said with a laugh. “Though I seem to remember a hint or two about your unfamiliarity. Still, I thank you for the talent you displayed. Your ability won the night.”

Mary did not reply, but Elizabeth noticed her face flush with color.

“I have seen you in Meryton these past few days,” Mr. Wickham said, a grin forming. “Unfortunately, I was always running errands for Colonel Forster and unable to speak with you. It seems fortune brought me here this fine morning.”

“We came to retrieve what had escaped from the estate,” Elizabeth said, casting a severe look at Lydia, “and take it home.”

“I hope your search was not too difficult,” Mr. Wickham said. “Are you certain the missing object was not still on the property? Searching an estate can be a challenge. I grew up on an expansive property north of London, so I know the difficulty.”

“Longbourn is not that large,” Mary said. “It is a respectable size, but the servants can manage such a task. That is why we came to Meryton.”

Elizabeth listened in silence. This was a version of Mary unfamiliar to her: confident, expressive, and untroubled by her own exaggerations. Where only weeks ago her sister had spoken with rigid honesty, now she embellished her words like Lydia.

“And your father,” Mr. Wickham said, “is he also searching for this missing article?”

“Papa is occupied with the business of the estate,” Mary said before Elizabeth could reply. “A matter like this, while frustrating, is not serious enough to interrupt his work. He trusts Elizabeth and me to handle it. We will report the outcome to him this evening.”

Mr. Wickham leaned slightly forward, watching Mary’s mouth as she spoke. “It sounds as though your father is both important and well established,” he said. “Would you say he is a generous man?”

“When he deems it earned,” Mary said, her voice steady as she continued. “He can be strict when required, though always with cause.”

Elizabeth said nothing, entertained by the confidence Mary now showed.

“It would seem,” Mr. Wickham said, wetting his lips, “that any man fortunate enough to gain the hand of you or your sisters is blessed indeed. A generous dowry only adds to the appeal.”

“Lizzy, can we go?” Lydia interrupted, her tone sharp and grating. “You said we needed to go home, but all we are doing is listening to Mary.”

“She is correct,” Elizabeth said, catching the look of disappointment that passed across Mr. Wickham’s face. “We have remained long enough. Please excuse us.”

With a quick curtsy, she turned and led her sisters out of town and onto the lane that would take them back to Longbourn.

“Papa will be angry when he learns that you and Kitty went to Meryton again without permission,” she said as they walked. “He told you both not to leave the estate without informing him.”

“Why say anything? We did nothing to deserve punishment; we only wanted something to occupy ourselves. Sitting at home all day grows tiresome.”

Elizabeth sighed. Dozens of replies came to mind, each certain to provoke her sister.

“You have a reputation as a wanton child who shows little concern for even the appearance of propriety,” she said, choosing honesty. “Your actions have stirred the gossips to such a degree that Papa wonders whether he should keep you at Longbourn. After today, I believe he may act on that thought.”

“Then what good will it do to tell him?” Lydia asked. “Say nothing, and Kitty and I will do the same.” She turned to her sister, who nodded in agreement.

“That will not solve anything.” Elizabeth shook her head. Lydia’s expression faltered; her eyes darted from side to side, as though searching for support and finding none.

“Sooner or later, he will hear of it from someone in town,” she said. “And how much angrier will he be to learn it that way, rather than from you? If you tell him yourself, your honesty might soften the punishment.”

“I would rather he never find out,” Lydia said, her voice sharp, a frown twisting her mouth.

“Then obey him,” Elizabeth said. “That is all he asks. He wants to see you conduct yourself with enough sense and dignity to attract a suitor who might love and support you. He is not a harsh man, but he has expectations, and not without reason. Is that truly too much?”

Lydia gave no reply, and Elizabeth, recognizing that further argument would accomplish nothing, allowed the matter to rest.

* * *

Though Mary heard her sisters arguing, her thoughts remained on Mr. Wickham and the kind remarks he made at her Aunt Phillips’ party. His attention stayed on her all evening, though she considered herself the least attractive Bennet.

She had long accepted her plain appearance and tried to believe it did not matter.

In her sisters’ company, she was the last noticed, if at all.

During the year before her coming out, she had spent hours at the mirror, wondering why she had none of Jane’s beauty, Elizabeth’s expressive eyes, or Lydia’s brazen confidence.

She knew she lacked charm and, as a result, made no effort to improve her appearance, wearing shapeless, plain gowns that drew no interest from Hertfordshire’s eligible men.

But Mr. Wickham differed from the others. When they spoke, he looked her in the eyes, his manner suggesting he valued her words. He listened and answered without condescension, unlike so many in Meryton or at the county assemblies.

Her stomach fluttered when he smiled, as though something within strained to escape.

In his gaze, she saw no judgment of her simple gown or tightly braided hair.

He seemed not to mind that she lacked ornament or polish.

Instead, he looked at her as if he truly saw her and found something worth his attention.

“Is something bothering you?” Elizabeth asked the next morning over breakfast. “You said nothing on our walk home or at supper, and today you seem lost in thought.”

Mary considered the question, a memory stirring as an old idea returned—one she had long set aside but never quite forgotten.

“Do you remember what you said the night before my coming out?”

“I might,” Elizabeth said, her tone inviting rather than firm. “We have spoken often since then, and the details escape me, so you may need to remind me.”

“You told me not to hide my beauty,” Mary replied. “That if I changed my hair and attire, men would have no choice but to notice me.”

She blinked back tears and gave a soft laugh. “I wanted to stay home because I saw no reason to endure an evening of ridicule. When I objected, you offered to help, to change my appearance from head to heels, if I recall.”

“I remember some of it,” Elizabeth said, her expression warm. “And I am sorry I cannot recall it all.”

“Would you still help me?” Mary asked. “I am not blessed with your complexion or Jane’s beauty, but I hope I might look a little better.”

“Has someone caught your eye?” Elizabeth asked gently.

“I want to look more like my sisters,” Mary said, her eyes shifting around the room while her hands curled into fists at her sides.

“And it is a fine goal,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “We can start in the morning, but it will take longer than an hour or two, so be ready to spend the day on it, perhaps even the next.”

“I understand,” Mary said, glancing down at herself. “You have little to work with, but any improvement is welcome.”

She stood and walked toward the door, then turned back. “Thank you, Lizzy, I will not forget this. You may need the skill of a magician to make any difference, but if you are willing to try, so am I.”

“Do not belittle yourself,” Elizabeth said as Mary left the room. “Wait until you see what you become.”