Page 20 of The Duke of Derby (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Mary was not enjoying the ball, but that was no surprise. She had not expected to enjoy it. She didn’t like crowds. She didn’t like meeting new people. And she especially didn’t like dancing.

She knew it was odd for a young lady to not like dancing. Every female she knew who was under the age of thirty loved to dance, and Mary wouldn’t have been surprised to find that older ladies enjoyed it just as much though they hid it simply because of their age.

Mary, on the other hand, would prefer to sit still and read or at most sit and play piano.

Physical exertion was not something she enjoyed, nor was she particularly graceful when she did move.

Despite hours of practice over the last few months, Mary was only marginally more graceful now than she had been at Longbourn.

Knowing how important it was for her family to make a good impression in London, Mary did her best impression of Jane’s placid smile and accepted every request to dance.

Surprisingly, doing so filled up her card fairly quickly, and there were even those whose request had to be declined because her card was full.

For a few wild but brief moments, Mary believed that perhaps dressing in finer clothing and allowing her hair to be styled properly had somehow transformed her into a beauty, but that flight of fancy did not last long.

None of the gentlemen she danced with complimented her looks in any way, though she could hear her sisters receive such praise from multiple sources. It soon became clear that those who requested her dances were dancing with her fortune and status, not with her as a person.

As the evening passed, it became more and more difficult to maintain her smile or even a simple blank expression. Somehow, being wanted only for her fortune and status was far worse than not being wanted at all.

Tears she could not allow to form and rage she could not express even to herself built up within her. By the time the supper dance was about to begin, she had worked herself into a severe headache.

As the music began for the dance, she looked around for Mr. Hounsworth, who had written his name on her card for this dance, but he was nowhere to be seen. The dancers were lining up, and he still had not arrived to claim his dance.

When the music began, and the dancers began to move, Mary finally saw him. He was on the dance floor, dancing with Kitty.

Hot shame flowed through her. She realized that she truly was nothing, that despite all her hard work and all she had done to change how she presented herself, she was still the sister who was easily ignored, and the realization hit her like a blacksmith’s hammer.

She turned toward the door, planning to escape from the ballroom and take refuge in her bedroom. Her only thought was gratitude that she was at home where she could do such a thing rather than at someone else’s home where she would be trapped.

She was halfway to the door when it dawned on her that if she disappeared for the rest of the evening, her family would be worried. So, she stopped and looked around for her mother.

As she was looking, Lord Appleby, the eldest son of the Duke of Sansbury, approached her. “Lady Mary, are you well?”

She was startled into looking at him directly, and she could see concern written clearly on his face. She was so surprised to see anyone other than her family concerned for her welfare that she could not formulate a reply. She simply stared at him.

“It is only that you seem to be rather pale and upset,” he said by way of explanation. “I thought perhaps you might be feeling unwell.”

As she continued to think about how to reply, she vaguely remembered her dance with him, which was the second one of the night. His first dance had been with Jane, because they were the highest-ranking gentleman and lady other than her parents, but she had been his second dance of the evening.

Of her various partners, his conversation had been the least boring. At least he had spoken of books and plays, whereas the other gentlemen had mostly spoken of horses, dogs, hunting, and gambling.

“I was looking for my mother,” she said, not truly answering his question.

“I believe I saw her on the other side of the dancers just before this dance began,” he said. “Would you mind very much if I escorted you there?”

Mary looked at him in confusion. She almost blurted out, “Why would you wish to do such a thing?” but she stopped the words just before they sneaked past her lips.

Even though she did not speak her thoughts, he somehow knew what she was thinking anyway, for he said, “Truly, you look as if you might be quite ill, and if I let you try to navigate this crowd alone, I would be worried for you as soon as you were out of my sight.”

Mary sighed. Being told one looked ill is not exactly the compliment a lady likes to hear. She said, “I thank you for your concern.”

She did not give him permission precisely, but she didn’t shoo him away, either. Apparently, that was enough for Lord Appleby. He held out his arm for her to take. With only a little hesitation, she took it, saying, “Thank you.”

With much more grace and assertiveness than Mary would ever have, Lord Appleby guided her through the crowded ballroom. Eventually, Mama came in sight, and he led them to her.

“Mary!” cried Mama as they approached. “Truly, child you do not look well.”

Again, Mary suppressed a twinge of pain at her mother’s comments. “I am not ill, Mama, only a bad headache. I was going to ask if I could retire early.”

Mama thought for a few moments. “If you can at all manage it, it would be best if you stayed for supper at least. You need to eat something, my dear. Then, after you’ve had some food, if you are still feeling not quite the thing, you may retire.”

Mary did not wish to wait even that long, but she knew her mother was correct. If she left now, she would not sleep for being hungry, and she would not wish to trouble the kitchen staff directly, since they were already quite busy with the ball.

“Very well, I shall wait,” said Mary.

“Perhaps it will do you good to sit by an open window,” said Mama. “There is an uncomfortably cool breeze tonight, but the fresh air might do you some good.”

“Thank you, Mama,” said Mary. “I shall give it a try.”

She turned to head to the back of the ballroom. There were fewer people there, since there was a bit less light, and Mary knew that there was an open window in the very back near the door to the garden.

It was only as she began moving that she realized that Lord Appleby was still at her side. She said, “Thank you for your assistance, my Lord.” She assumed he would then move away.

“No thanks are needed,” he said. “It has been my pleasure.” He then held out his arm once again. When she didn’t immediately take it, he asked, “Might I escort you to your destination?”

Mary was confused. Nothing this man was doing made sense to her, and the pain in her head made it difficult to think. She could not think of an alternative, so she took his offered arm.

Once again, he made it seem so easy as he guided them toward the back of the room. Once there, Mary took the seat right next to the window, unable to prevent a little sigh of relief at the feel of the fresh, cool breeze.

She turned to Lord Appleby to thank him, thinking he must now leave her, since there couldn’t possibly be any reason for him to linger only to be utterly shocked when she saw that he was taking the seat next to her.

When he noticed the expression on her face, he said, “I hope you don’t mind.

I find the noise of the ballroom to be quite wearing after a time, and I thought it might be pleasant to sit here with you instead, but if you don’t wish for my company, I can leave.

” After a pause, he added, “Though I would likely worry about you if I did.”

Mary’s confusion finally burst out of her. “Why would you worry? I am no one to be concerned with.”

Hot shame poured over her once again. Not only was she very plain, awkward, and uninteresting, but now she was simply being rude. She knew Lord Appleby was only trying to be kind, but such behavior from a gentleman was so foreign to her that she didn’t know how to respond.

She was so embarrassed that she couldn’t even look at him. She half expected him to finally realize that she wasn’t worth his time and leave her alone. Yet again, he did not leave even though she had given him every reason to.

“Every young lady is someone to be concerned with,” he said, and Mary marveled at the patience in his voice.

She didn’t reply, she simply looked out over the dancers. As she did so, she caught sight of Mr. Hounsworth dancing with Kitty, and she could not prevent a scowl from twisting her lips.

“Lady Mary, will you tell me what is troubling you?” asked Lord Appleby “I have found that sharing one’s troubles with someone else, even a stranger, tends to give them less power.”

His request reminded her of the verse from the Bible to “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”

She sighed.

Still not looking at Lord Appleby, she said, “I cannot share it all, for it will make me appear utterly ridiculous in even the most compassionate eyes. However, I can say that the scowl you saw on my face a few moments ago was caused by the sight of Mr. Hounsworth dancing with my younger sister.”

“That is surprising,” he said. “I would not think Mr. Hounsworth would be the kind of gentleman you would have such affection for.”

Mary was startled into staring at her companion. “It is nothing of the sort,” she said a little too sharply. “I don’t even know the man. It is only that he specifically requested this dance with me, but he has apparently forgotten all about it.” She showed Lord Appleby her dance card.

“So, it is not jealousy that made you frown but rather a feeling of neglect or possibly rejection,” said Lord Appleby.