Mistress Mary and the General: A Pride and Prejudice Inspired Story

by Bronwen Chisholm

  Swallowing hard, Richard stood and crossed the room to the decanters which sat upon the side table. Taking one up, he poured himself a drink and sipped it.

  “In the dreams that followed, she was always in the gardens here at Pemberley and it was as though she was calling me here.” He turned to look once more at his cousin. “You know it was always my plan to come to Pemberley, but it was not until the dreams began that I decided to close up the townhouse and release most of the staff. I just felt as though the next chapter in our lives would not be in London. I believe Sarah guided me to that decision.”

  “Richard,” Darcy began again, but his cousin cut him off once more.

  “No questions until I have finished, Darce. You said you wish to know, and I am telling you.”

  Reluctantly Darcy nodded again and Richard continued. “Once we arrived, I did not allow myself to sleep so deeply that I would dream, or to experience the normal restorative effect Pemberley has always had upon me. I believe I was punishing myself for not being able to keep Sarah by my side.” He took another swallow and returned to his seat. “Whether they admit it or not, every soldier holds the same fear deep within him; that he will be unable to keep his loved ones from harm. It is the reason so many remain unwed, or do not allow themselves deep sentiment toward any.”

  Staring into the warm amber colour of the liqueur, he seemed to become lost in thought as he spoke. “Sarah always knew that. For years, most particularly when she was with child, she would tell me if anything were to happen to her, I must not blame myself.”

  “She was a wise woman.” Darcy said softly, nearly under his breath.

  “That she was.” Richard smiled sadly. “And apparently still is. After James’s visit, when we spoke regarding my possible interest in Mary, the dreams began again.”

  Darcy’s brow rose. “Mary?”

  “Please, Darce, I must insist that you remain silent or I may not be able to say what I need to say.”

  His colour rising, Darcy leaned forward. “And I must insist you respect Elizabeth’s sister. She is Miss Bennet; unless you have come to an understanding and that is the heart of this discussion.”

  Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Richard exhaled slowly. “Very well; Miss Bennet.” He opened his eyes and met Darcy’s gaze. “As I was saying, the dreams began again. It was clear Sarah was trying to tell me something, but I was uncertain of what it was. This morning when I awoke, I felt the need to enter the gardens.” He smiled, his countenance softening. “You remember Sarah and I would often sit on the bench in the little alcove by the orchids.”

  Darcy nodded, thinking back on the many times he and Elizabeth had found them there in an embrace. “It is one of our favourite areas as well.”

  “I dreamt it was in ruin and Sarah was gone.”

  “That would explain your appearance this morning.” Darcy said softly.

  Richard nodded. “Mar … Miss Bennet found me there, weeping. I found peace in her presence, similar to the calm I have always found here at Pemberley. It was in those moments that I realized the message in Sarah’s visits.” He laughed, “You may not remember it, Darce, but I once questioned if there was a Bennet sister for me. It appears there may be.”

  “It was said in jest, Richard. Even then you were devoted to Sarah.”

  “True, but is it not ironic now?”

  A light shone in Richard’s eyes that Darcy had not seen in some time, and he was pleased to see it. “I suppose it is. So Miss Bennet has accepted you?”

  Richard fidgeted in his seat. “Not precisely.”

  The corner of Darcy’s lip twitched and he attempted to suppress the grin which threatened to spill across his countenance. “She refused you?”

  “I did not say that.” Richard sat straighter in the seat. “She has simply declined to answer for now.”

  Darcy’s brow rose as he completely failed to conceal his amusement. “And has she given any indication of when she will answer?”

  “I have said it before, and it is no less true today; you are taking entirely too much pleasure from my circumstances, Darce. I thought you were my friend, nearly a brother, yet you smirk and laugh at any opposition I face.” Richard stood and crossed the room to stare out the window.

  “Come, Richard, you must concede that you have found substantial amusement in my life. This is simply a balancing out, if you will.” Darcy laughed openly.

  “Perhaps,” Richard said over his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he turned around to face his cousin. “Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are due to arrive in a few days. I hope to have her answer by then so that I might speak with him.”

  “Has she given a reason for delaying her response?” Darcy sat back in his chair and watched his cousin.

  “That we must learn more of each other to determine if this is the correct course. We began while you and Elizabeth were out walking. Before you begin to upbraid me, the children and their nurses were our chaperones. Mar … Damn it all; Miss Bennet knew you would insist upon propriety.”

  Darcy chuckled once more before sitting up to his desk and drawing the papers before him. “Well in that case, we should see if we may begin visiting estates tomorrow. Once Mary is able to choose her home, I am certain you shall have your response.”

  ***********

  Standing upon the expanse of green lawn, Mary tipped her head back and felt the warm sun upon her face. She took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes to find the General standing before her. A crimson blush spread across her features as she lowered her gaze.

  “You have caught me, sir.”

  “Yes, but caught you doing what?” he asked, amusement clear in his tone.

  “Enjoying the sun. It is most unladylike. Mother has told us repeatedly that we are to avoid the sun due to freckles, but I find I quite enjoy the feel of its warmth upon my face.” She smiled and tipped her head back once more, closing her eyes as a smile spread across her lips.

  “Mary,” he whispered as he stepped closer to her, “are you purposefully tempting me?”

  Her eyes flew open as she looked up at him. “Tempting you, sir?”

  “Yes. Do you not realize how much your enjoyment of such a simple thing makes me desire to kiss you?” He leaned toward her, but she stepped away.

  Looking about, she whispered, “We are in the open, sir. It would be most improper.”

  Richard took another step closer to her. “But if we were somewhere more secluded, you would acquiesce?”

  Seeing the twinkle in his eye, she laughed and stepped away again. “You are putting words in my mouth.” She turned and began walking back toward the house.

  Quickly, he fell into step at her side as he took up her hand and placed it upon his arm. “What think you of Selwyn Hall? Do you believe we could be happy here?”

  A smile tugged at her lips once more, and Mary looked away from him as she surveyed the property. She sniffed in an attempt to sound less interested. “It appears to be a sturdy home, but I believe you must make the decision, sir. Are the stables what they should be?”

  Laughing, Richard shook his head. “Ever the pragmatist, Mary? Yes, the stables will suffice for now, and any future changes will be minor.” He stopped and turned her to look at him. “But what of the house? Do you like it?”

  Mary lowered her eyes demurely. “It is a lovely home, sir.”

  “I am certain it is, but you still have not answered my question.” He placed a finger below her chin and lifted it so that he might look into her eyes. “Would you consider this your home?”

  Taking a deep breath, Mary looked into his beseeching eyes and smiled. “It is in much better condition than Brentwood Manor, I believe. Though the spires at Skylark were breath-taking.”

  “You are playing with me,” Richard drew her into an embrace. “I must punish you for that.”

  Mary began to press against his chest as she glanced about to see if anyone were outside and in view. “Richard, you must release me,” she said, not rea
lizing she had used his Christian name. “What if we are seen?”

  “It would serve you right to have your choice taken away from you. You would be forced to wed me then.” He laughed as he held her tighter.

  “Why? I have no unwed sisters, sir. There is nothing that could force me into accepting you.” She ceased her struggles and crossed her arms in front of her as she stared up at him defiantly.

  “So you have decided to refuse me,” he asked, his eyes clouding over. “May I at least know the reason?”

  Mary’s shoulders drooped as she raised a hand to caress his cheek. “You foolish man; who said I refused you?”

  “I do not understand. Are you accepting me then?”

  A spark of hope shone in his eye, and Mary laughed as she stood on tiptoe and placed a timid kiss upon his lips.

  As realization overtook him, Richard gathered her to him and kissed her fully before picking her up and spinning in a circle. As he lowered her feet to the ground once more, he asked, “Should we speak to Mr. Rogers regarding Selwyn Hall or shall it be Skylark?”

  Glancing toward a motion on their left, Mary laughed. “I believe you must speak to my father first, sir.”

  Richard looked up to see the amused man slowly coming toward them. He cleared his throat and placed her hand upon his arm before turning to meet Mr. Bennet halfway.

  Epilogue

  Mary wiped a cool cloth across her husband’s fevered brow. It had been days since he had been conscious and she feared he would pass without them speaking again.

  It had been a long winter with many falling to the fevers and illnesses that were spreading so quickly. Everyone was surprised when Richard had taken ill as rarely in his sixty years had he contracted the illnesses which were prevalent during this season. Initially they anticipated he would make a speedy recovery, but it appeared that would not be the case.

  The door opened soundlessly, but Mary turned when she became aware of someone in the room. She smiled when she saw William. He solemnly came toward her, ever careful of his steps.

  “How does he today, Mother?” He leaned forward over his father, his face pulled with grief.

  “His breathing does not appear as laboured, but his fever is still higher than I would prefer.” Mary returned the cloth to the bowl and wrung it out again.

  “An express has arrived for him.” He held the missive for her to see. “It is from Matlock.”

  “What does that old crow want now?” the General croaked in a scratchy, unused voice.

  “Papa,” William whispered, relief threatening to overwhelm him.

  “How long have you been awake, Richard?” Mary asked as he took her hand and drew it to his parched lips. She could feel the skin stretched taught over the bones of his fingers and the shake of his hand.

  “It matters not.” He pulled his eyes from her and looked at his son. “Go on now, William. Read it to me.”

  Swallowing, William nodded, broke the seal, and scanned the content. “It is not from Uncle James,” he said softly. Looking to Mary first, he turned to his father. “It is from Louisa Sheridan. She said her father has passed. Her mother was too grief stricken to write, but did not want you to receive the news from a servant.” He folded the missive as he met his father’s gaze. “You are the Earl of Matlock.”

  Richard released a throaty breath, took another deeper, and released it sounding more like an amused chuckle. By the third, he began coughing and his wife and son had to pull him into a sitting position to ease his discomfort.

  “James always did have the most interesting timing,” he said once the bout had passed.

  His family laid him back upon his pillows and he turned to look at his son who remained sitting at his side. “Well William, are you prepared to be Earl of Matlock?”

  A frown deepened the lines in his son’s forehead as he shook his head. “You are Earl, Father, not I.”

  “Ah, but you soon will be.” Richard turned to look at his wife. “Mary, do you believe James knew the title would go to Eric and he did not wish Caroline to be the Countess?”

  “I believe God, in all his wisdom, moves in mysterious ways.”

  A smile spread across his lips and he patted her hand. “Yes, you have said that many a time over the years when you did not wish to say an unkind word.” Turning once more toward his son, he took a deep breath which appeared to pain him. “Go and find your brother and sister. I wish to speak to all of you, but I want a word with your mother alone first. Oh and you best fetch O’Toole as well.”

  “Of course, Father.” William stood, wiping the tears from his eyes, and left the room quickly.

  “Richard, you should rest.” Mary began fussing; tugging the counterpane up to cover him.

  Taking her hand in his, he shook his head. “I will find my rest soon enough, my dear Mary.” Looking down at their hands, he swallowed hard. “Sarah came to me while I slept. She told me it was time, but I must deliver a message from her before I go.”

  Mary could feel the tears filling her eyes and spilling over to run down her cheeks. For all the years of their marriage, she had accepted her place as the second wife, the second love. She knew Sarah would always be first in his heart. Even now at the end, it was Sarah who was taking him away from her. She forced herself to meet his gaze.

  “She wanted to thank you for raising our children. She said you were always stronger than she was. She also told me I must be completely open with you and so I shall. Though I have always loved Sarah, you are also a part of my heart. Do not believe I loved you less; it was only a different sort of love. You healed me when I did not believe I could be completely healed. You have grown old at my side, supporting my dreams even when you doubted their success.” Another harsh laugh shook his frame. “Do not think I did not know. You never were very good at hiding your feelings, my love.”

  A blush covered Mary’s aged features. “I never doubted you would succeed, I only wondered at the reasoning behind some of your choices.”

  The creases about his eyes deepened as he smiled. “I have always loved your blushes, Mistress Mary.” His smile transformed into a pain stricken grimace and she squeezed his hand tighter. “Thank you,” he whispered. Slowly he took a deep breath and lifted his eyes to hers. “Thank you for accepting my hand, for forcing me to be the man you knew I could be, and for doing the same for our children.”

  She heard the door open and smiled, swallowing her tears. “Your children are here to see you.”

  Richard shook his head ever so slightly. “Our children. Please stay by my side?”

  Nodding, she turned her seat so that she could see the Fitzwilliam clan as they approached. William led the way, as always; his wife Lucinda at his side, clinging to his arm as she wiped away her tears. Beth followed with her husband, Charlie Bingley, close behind her, and Richie brought up the rear, still in uniform as he had only recently arrived.

  A moment later, O’Toole stepped through the dressing room doorway and surveyed the room. He met his master’s eye and bowed his head.

  “It appears, O’Toole, that you shall not be able to assist me any longer,” Richard said as an odd smirk crossed his lips. “Though from your appearance, I would think Labraid had returned to show his mastery.”

  “Mr. O’Toole has barely left your side, Richard,” Mary scolded him. “It was only at my insisting that his wife was able to draw him away this evening.”

  “You have always been a good man, but Mrs. O’Toole has made you a better one.” Richard smiled at his friend and valet. “What shall you do now?”

  “As the missus tends your grandbabes, sir, it appears I shall be remaining.” O’Toole stood a bit taller, an older soldier’s attempt at a military posture. “I shall look after yours as I am required.”

  Richard nodded once as he struggled to sit up straighter in the bed and Mary and William assisted him. Once he was comfortable, he patted his son’s hand, a proud smile shining in his eyes.

  “Well, William, it appears our pl
ans have now changed. You shall be moving your family to Matlock soon. Care for the Sheridans as I promised James I would do years ago. Be of assistance to your brother, as he will need your direction.”

  “Yes, Papa,” William whispered as he glanced toward Richie who stood stoically watching the scene before him.

  Reaching out to his daughter-in-law, Richard took her hand and squeezed it lightly. “You shall be the very model of a countess, my dear Lucy. Your parents will be quite proud of you.”

  “Thank you, Papa Richard.” She used her free hand to wipe away her tears which flowed freely down her cheeks.

  Richard passed her hand to his son and turned to his daughter. Opening his arms, she flew into his embrace as she sobbed.

  “There, there, Beth. I have lived a full life. I have seen you wed a good man and your children born. I have been truly blessed. Soon I shall be with your mother and we will watch over all of you.”

  Beth startled slightly as she glanced toward the only woman she remembered calling Mother, but Mary’s eyes were downcast. She looked back to her father, her brow creased in confusion.

  A soft, breathy chuckle escaped Richard’s lips as he kissed her forehead. “You remind me of your mother, Sarah, when you look at me in that manner. There were many times she did not completely understand my meaning initially, and I must say I enjoyed perplexing her.”

  He motioned for Charlie to step forward and shook his hand; the once sure grip now weak and trembling. “Take care of my princess, Son.”

  “I will, Father.” Taking his wife in his arms, Charlie led her away from the bed, still wiping her tears.

  Richie stood to the side, watching the proceedings as though from a great distance. When his sister and her husband stepped away from his father, he remained where he was.

  “Richard,” the old General said in a sterner manner. He fought the urge to smile as the young soldier snapped to attention. “Come here, lad,” his voice softened.