“Alex?” asked Georgiana.
“Alessandro Landini is teaching Mary now. He has agreed to give you lessons, as well. Would you like that?” asked Darcy. “He would teach Elizabeth, too, but she has declined for the present.”
Georgiana nodded emphatically. “I had no idea Signore Landini was taking students. Of course, I would never give up any opportunity to study with such a Master. When shall he come again?”
“We are going to visit the modiste with your aunt in the morning,” answered Elizabeth. “Perhaps he will come in the afternoon, if he is not already engaged elsewhere.”
“I shall send round a note to his lodgings, asking about his availability,” added Darcy.
Elizabeth smiled. “Then shall we make our way to the parlour? I am in great need of refreshment.”
After another busy morning of shopping with Lady Grace and Elizabeth, Mary tidied herself and went to the music room, hoping to practice before meeting Landini for a lesson. Georgiana had stayed behind, pleading for practice time before she would be called upon to perform.
When Mary opened the door to the music room, she saw Georgian and Ale. Their backs were to her, and they did not acknowledge her. As Landini had requested, nearly all the furniture had been removed from the room more than two weeks earlier. Consequently, there was no place to sit. As she had no wish to disturb them, she quietly closed the door and walked slowly back to her chambers.
Two hours passed with no word from her teacher.
She tried not to allow the circumstances to upset her, but her mind would not stop.
I suppose I shall have no lesson today. Georgiana is a far superior student of the pianoforte. To be honest, she is everything I am not – beautiful, interesting, and wealthy – with a marriage settlement of £30,000. Her family is of noble lines, and her education is in every way superior to mine. She has all the social graces which I lack. I should not be surprised Mr. Landini would prefer to spend his time with her rather than me.
Mary walked back to the music room, chewing the inside of her cheek, standing in the hallway once more. She listened through the door as Georgiana laughed gaily, then she returned to her room.
I suppose I shall have no teacher and no place to practice now. How can everything change so drastically in such a short time?
She silently donned her bonnet, coat, and gloves before leaving the house alone for a walk in a nearby park, unable to bear the sight of her friend or her teacher, knowing she would cry in front of them and disgrace herself.
Mary usually loved snow, but the thick layer of white did not cheer her. She trudged along, leaving her footprints behind her.
Hearing thunder, she looked up, noticing the gathering clouds for the first time.
She chuckled darkly. How apt. I am in perfect harmony with nature. She cries for me.
Heavy drops began to fall, but Mary welcomed them, not feeling the chill.
She sat on a bench, despondent, turning her face up to watch the rain as it fell from the angry sky. Closing her eyes, she wished she were back at Longbourn, playing on her old spinet, never having met Ale. I was content in my ignorance.
Mary blindly searched her mind for an answer to her suffering.
Perhaps my brother would loan me his carriage tomorrow. I cannot stay here any longer.
She shook her head as her tears mingled with the raindrops, streaking her face.
I must awaken from my dream and accept that I am Mary, not Maria. I cannot escape who I am.
She had no thought of the passage of time, knowing only that she had no wish to return to her brother’s home and face the crumbling of her dreams. Her numb fingers and toes matched her despondent mood.
There was something romantic in the idea of dying, leaving the misery of an empty, lonely life stretching endlessly, perhaps as a governess or companion, as she slipped from one existence into the next. Or, I shall spend my life taking care of my parents until they leave me like everyone else has.
“Miss Mary Bennet!” exclaimed a vaguely familiar voice. “Why on earth are you sitting out in this cold rain? You shall catch your death.”
She opened her eyes, looking up with confusion into the face of a golden angel with crystal blue eyes.
I have died? Is this Heaven?
“Come,” he said. “You must be visiting at Darcy House. I shall take you back home.”
Home? To Darcy House? No.
“Are you able to stand? Please, allow me to help you to my carriage. Your family must be frantic with worry.”
Grasping her hands, he pulled her to her feet, but her legs would not hold her. Before she could collapse to the ground, he lifted her into his arms, striding from the park to his conveyance.
She felt warm, safe, cared for, as she turned her face to his broad chest and fell asleep.
Mary awoke in her bedchamber, warm and dry under the covers. She turned her face to the wall.
“Mary, please look at me.”
Why is she sad?
A masculine voice spoke in low tones. “Miss Bennet, I must examine you. Will you allow it?”
He waited a moment before speaking again. “Your sister is here. Will you not speak to her?”
Mary shook her head, not trusting her voice.
A large hand gently cupped her chin, encouraging her to face its owner. His touch was gentle as he brushed her damp hair back from her forehead with his fingers.
He is so warm.
“Do you know me, my dear? I am Darcy’s physician, Thaddeus Beckett. I was walking back across the park to my carriage when I saw you in the rain.”
The rain?
“Mr. Beckett? Not an angel?” Her voice was hoarse.
He chuckled. “I have heard that before, and it is no truer now than it was then. I really must get a haircut.”
“No,” said Mary.
“No?” Beckett raised his brows.
“You must not cut your hair. ’Tis perfect,” she whispered.
“Miss Bennet, how much do you remember?” he asked.
She drew her brows together. “Remember?”
Mary tried to recall what had happened, but it was just beyond her reach.
“You appear to have no physical injuries. I found you sitting on a park bench in the storm with night falling. It was not safe to be there alone. You were most fortunate that I noticed you before the pickpockets and rogues did. This is London, not Meryton. Why would you do such a thing?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
The park in the rain. Why was I there?
As her mind cleared, all her memories rushed back to her, and her pain was fresh once more.
“I must leave London. I wish to go home,” she croaked, agitated.
Elizabeth shook her head. “You are not well, my dear. I fear you caught a chill in the cold rain. You must stay with us a bit longer.”
The tears began to trickle down her face. Her voice trembled. “I cannot. Please, send me to Longbourn.”
Beckett put his hand on her forehead. “I think not, Miss Mary. You have a fever and must rest until you are better. I cannot allow you to leave your bed for several days at least.”
She tried to calm herself. No one can come in here but Elizabeth and Mr. Beckett. I shall not have to see Mr. Landini or Georgiana. I wish never to see him again.
She sniffled. “I will do as you say.”