Page 17 of Hidden Desires

Elizabeth took a mirror from the top of the bureau and handed it to her sister.

“Look at the progress we made today, but remember I am not finished. The next time you stand before a mirror, the change will be even more pronounced.”

Interest lit Mary’s eyes, and she rose from the chair, but turned away and shook her head.

“I am curious,” she said, glancing at the glass and returning her gaze to Elizabeth, “but I would rather see the changes all at once, not piece by piece.”

A tentative smile came to her lips.

“And besides, what if I hate what I see? I might lose my nerve and undo everything. If it is all the same to you, I am going to wait.”

Elizabeth laughed and nodded.

“Stop worrying. You can always return to how you looked before, but I promise the thought will never occur to you. Now come. I want to be seated when Papa arrives, so you can surprise him. His reaction should put your doubts to rest.”

The sisters went to the dining room and took their seats, waiting for the others to come at Mrs. Hill’s summons.

Jane entered first and saw the change at once. She stared at Mary, then looked to Elizabeth. Her mouth opened but closed again when Elizabeth shook her head and placed a finger to her lips.

Mrs. Bennet followed but, as usual, made no comment. She settled at the table, unaware of any change in her daughter’s appearance. Her inattention was expected; she rarely took notice of her children’s comings and goings throughout the day.

Kitty and Lydia arrived together. While Kitty’s widening eyes revealed her surprise, she offered no comment, which Elizabeth appreciated. Lydia, however, remained silent only because she had not yet gathered her thoughts. Given time, she would twist any remark, kind or not, into a taunt.

Mr. Bennet entered last, which surprised no one. At the sight of Mary, he glanced at Elizabeth and lifted his shoulders in silent question. When she nodded, he smiled and took his seat.

The conversation during the meal centered on his progress at Netherfield.

He ignored his wife’s repeated complaints about his continued absence, which, as Elizabeth predicted, provoked her irritation.

When he mentioned Bingley’s invitation, she threatened to stay home rather than “share a supper with that selfish man.”

Her father sighed. In a rare display of open irritation, he told her she could do as she pleased and added that her absence would leave more venison for the rest of them. That remark convinced her to reconsider, though she continued muttering to herself through the remainder of the meal.

With the argument ended, he turned to Elizabeth and nodded again toward Mary.

“Am I dreaming, or has something changed?”

Elizabeth chuckled and looked at her sister with mock inspection.

“We tried a few things this afternoon and have one or two more planned for tomorrow. By suppertime you will not recognize her.”

“That is happening a lot,” he said, a smile touching his lips. “Bingley’s injury, Netherfield’s repairs, and an unrecognizable vision of my quietest daughter.”

He paused and studied Mary with affection.

“Of the three, I prefer this one,” he said, pushing his chair back from the table. “I cannot wait to see the result.”

“Prepare yourself for a remarkable difference,” Elizabeth replied. “Tomorrow should surprise you both.”

“I cannot wait,” he said as he left the dining room. “From what I have seen, I expect my new and improved daughter to, at the very least, take my breath away.”

* * *

The project resumed after breakfast the next morning. Elizabeth, having spent the previous evening planning her final touches, took Mary back to her bedroom to complete the transformation.

Unlike yesterday, no apprehension showed in Mary’s expression. She appeared calm, composed, and a bit eager.

Elizabeth stood before her sister, hands on her hips, studying her. She traced the angles of Mary’s jaw with her eyes, following from chin to lips, then upward along her nose. Her gaze stopped at the eyes—hazel, bright with green and brown, a color none of the other sisters shared.

“I know how to present you in the most flattering light,” she said, nodding toward the jars and bottles spread across the bureau.

“Trust me,” she added, laughing at the doubt in Mary’s eyes. “I will not use all of these. I like having them close while I work, so I can reach whatever powder or salve I might need.”

Mary gave a smile, though it differed little from the scowl it replaced.

“Everyone seemed to like what you did yesterday,” she said. “Except Mama, but I would have been more surprised if she had said anything.”

“When we are done, not even our mother will fail to notice,” Elizabeth said, opening a small jar and patting its contents onto her sister’s cheeks.

“Now hold still. If you move, I will have to begin again.”

The next hour passed in silence, broken only by Elizabeth’s murmured reflections as she worked.

“Tell me what you think,” she said at last, pulling her sister from the chair and placing the mirror in her hands.

She raised the glass to her face, then moved it slowly to either side, examining the reflection.

The image that met her eyes matched the one Elizabeth had imagined the night before and shaped with care throughout the morning.

The usual tight bun had vanished, replaced by hair that now framed her face in soft ringlets, which had formed on their own.

Curls brushed the nape of her neck, a few strands falling to cover her ears.

Her skin, still its original tone, carried a translucent clarity that drew attention to her vivid eyes, and the blemishes once scattered across her cheeks were gone.

“This is better than I imagined,” she said, a faint tremor in her voice. “It may take some time for me to adjust to such a change. I do not know if I can get used to it.”

“The Mary we know and love has not changed,” Elizabeth said. “You look different, and in many ways improved, but you are still the same woman you were two days ago.”

She watched her sister tilt her head from side to side, the reflection mirroring every motion. Her gaze moved from the glass to Elizabeth and back again, as though uncertain whether the woman in the mirror was truly her.

To ease Mary’s clear discomfort, Elizabeth smiled and said, “Now that we’ve finished changing your appearance, it’s time to find some clothes that will show the new you to advantage. Come, let’s go through my wardrobe and pick out some dresses you want to wear.”

Mary shook her head, as though even the suggestion was too much. “I cannot,” she said. “Expecting you to dress me after everything you did is too much. You have already gone farther than I asked.”

“It is nothing more than you deserve,” Elizabeth said. “Stop worrying; I intend to see this to the end.”

Mary shook her head and raised her hands in protest. “I love what you have done but refuse to impose upon your charity any further. As it is, I will never be able to repay you, so let’s stop now.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind finishing what I started. Quitting so close to the end makes no sense to me.”

“Forgive me,” Mary said, “but I need time to adjust. Let me wait until I am comfortable with my appearance. When the time is right, I will accept your generous offer with gratitude.”

Elizabeth knew that once Mary had made up her mind, she would not be swayed. “As you wish,” she said. “Then all that remains is to introduce you to Mama. This change will shock her, but in the best way.”

“Mama won’t care.” Mary’s eyes dropped to the floor. “She has taken no interest in me in the past, so why would this make any difference? Lydia and Kitty are her favorites; she has made that plain.”

“You are mistaken,” Elizabeth said. “Mama loves you as much as she does your sisters. They need correction so often that they occupy her attention.”

Taking her sister by the hand, she led her into the sitting room, where Mrs. Bennet sat working on a piece of stitchery.

“Mama,” Elizabeth said upon entering, “doesn’t Mary look beautiful?”

“I suppose,” Mrs. Bennet mumbled, her attention focused on the fabric in her lap.

“Please look at her,” Elizabeth insisted. “She has changed, and it is important that you see the beautiful young woman she has become.”

Mrs. Bennet paused her needlework to take a quick look at her daughter. Mary looked away as her mother’s eyes widened at the sight of the girl standing before her, hands rubbing at her legs as though trying to remove an unseen stain.

“A welcome difference,” she said, returning her focus to her embroidery. “Of course, if you want to catch a husband, you need to wear nicer clothes.”

“Mama!” Elizabeth cried. “How can you say such a thing? Mary came for your approval, not undeserved criticism.”

“Forgive me,” Mrs. Bennet replied, “but I have grown so used to watching you hide from suitors that I gave up hope of anyone wanting to court.”

“Mama, that was unkind,” Elizabeth scolded, noting the tears gathering in Mary’s eyes. “Come Mary, we might as well go back to my room.”

“Who is this beautiful woman in front of me?” Mr. Bennet said as he stepped into the room. “Have we met? I think not; I would remember an enchantress like this. Lizzy, will you give me the honor of an introduction?”

Mary’s face brightened at her father’s words, prompting Elizabeth to take his hand and give it a grateful squeeze.

“You are a beautiful woman,” she declared. “Just wait until the next assembly. The other women are going to be jealous that you are the center of attention.”

“I am not sure if I trust your claims,” Mary said, a look of doubt creeping back into her eyes.

“Believe me,” Elizabeth insisted, “and trust in yourself. Beauty is not only what others see; it begins with what you carry inside.”

“I will try,” Mary said with a wan smile.