A Match for Mary Bennet by Eucharista Ward

am quite proud of her.”
    Elizabeth agreed. “She does well indeed.” She grew thoughtful. “Poor Alicia Johnstone! She told me she came here as a child once and saw you and Wickham playing by the stream. From that time she dreamed of being mistress of Pemberley and likes to pretend that she is even now. Mrs. Reynolds, who is fully aware of her propensity to assume ownership, simply cues the hostess to perform the confrontation.”
    â€œThat lady was a hoyden from her childhood! Why on earth do you permit her visits? Surely you would be more at ease if she were forbidden from visiting the manor?”
    â€œNo. I visited here once myself after refusing you. By then I had read your letter and felt differently about the honour you had offered, and this place gave me a wistful feeling because I thought it was forever lost to me. Miss Johnstone seems so wilted of spirit when I speak to her. I prefer to have more compassion than distaste for withered lilies—or even withered hoydens.”
    Darcy said, “That prodigious lady’s resemblance to a lily or indeed to anything withered is a contradiction of the highest order.” He exchanged a look with Fitzwilliam that shared his esteem for the charming mistress of Pemberley, grateful anew that she had at last accepted Darcy’s proposal.

Chapter 7
    The Bennets arrived at Pemberley, as promised, in mid-October, though Mr. Bennet and Catherine stayed but a day. Mr. Bennet visited Elizabeth in her sitting room, stifling his discomfort at the delicate elegance of its furniture. He sat on the edge of one ornate chair, as Elizabeth tried to keep back her smile at his unease. After asking about her health, Bennet voiced his request. “I leave Mary to you, hoping you may instill in her a few social graces. She has made a conquest in Hertfordshire: an unusual young man who currently leases Netherfield. His name is Grantley—the Honourable Lewis Grantley, M.P.—and I believe our neighbours all agree that she is the only young lady he has singled out for conversation.” Bennet attempted to sit up straighter, found he almost tipped the chair, and resumed his former perilous perch. “Before we left Longbourn, that stiff young man called on me, ostensibly to interest me in a bill he plans to support in Parliament, something about the flogging of soldiers. He means to introduce legislation that will proscribe all physical punishment for any offence short of treason. After his discourse on that subject, he began to hem and look uneasy, and finally, he produced a small book and asked me to give it to Mary, in whose mind he is interested. The essays in it were by American authors, and they all extolled the joys of freedom. I cautioned him that Mary’s propensity to read serious works did not include the likelihood of her understanding them in quite the way authors intended. “He actually seemed heartened by the idea that the interpretations will be all her own, as he esteems her mind an original one, and left in a sanguine frame of mind.” Bennet took Elizabeth’s smile as agreement and so finished. “See if you can prepare her to be the wife of an M.P.—just in case.”
    It amused Elizabeth that her father now played her mother’s game: jumping to thoughts of marriage over any insubstantial hint that her daughter might have a chance. But she fully intended to do his bidding, and she mentally reviewed the yard goods she had on hand, meaning to interest Mary in needlework. She did not see why hands so good at the pianoforte should not also ply the needle more often than Mary’s did, and she meant to devote an hour or so of each afternoon making linens and other items for a trousseau—just in case! Perhaps, Elizabeth mused, marriage had made her a matchmaker like her mother.
    Mr. Bennet and Catherine left the next day with the Bingleys to settle at their estate, which Catherine called