Mary Bennet and the Substitute Vicar

by Carrie Mollenkopf

  Sir Franklin cleared his throat slightly as he spied Kitty and Mrs. Bennet through the open door and rose to provide escort. On his way, he whispered in a barely audible tone to Atlas and Mary.

  “We shall speak later… without strangers present.”

  Mary only nodded and accepted her seat as the family settled into what appeared to be a routine dinner. However, Mary struggled to eat as she wondered what could not be said before all who were present. The hour stretched unbearably as Lydia prattled mindless tales of her social calls. Mary only half listened until her youngest sister mentioned Lucas Lodge.

  “Bertie and I were walking past the gates on our way here and you will never guess who I saw!”

  “I am sure you will enlighten us,” Mary replied absently as she pushed peas about her plate.

  “Mr. Collins! He was wandering about the front garden, just by the yew hedge. I swear he was talking to himself aloud.”

  “What of it? He is nothing to us now,” snapped Mrs. Bennet.

  Kitty had been silent so far, despite Mary having the knowledge that she had visited with Maria Lucas the same day. Mary was pleased with the level of decorum that Kitty had taken on in recent months. Hopefully it would continue.

  “Oh Mama! You did not see him, it was as if he was quite mad. Lady Lucas saw us and called him inside without offering any hospitality. It was very rude.”

  “Perhaps Lady Lucas did not see you through the shrubbery? Maria tells me that Mr. Collins is unwell and he and Charlotte have returned to Lucas Lodge for his recuperation.” Kitty offered quietly.

  “Unwell my foot! I have it from Mrs. Allenville that he was let go from his post at Rosings. He and Charlotte arrived on the public coach with all of their belongings,” Mrs. Bennet announced with an air of superiority.

  “Either way, it is unfortunate for them both. I shall offer my medical services should he be of need,” Atlas interjected to prevent further argument.

  “That is very kind of you.” Mr. Bennet replied and the topic was dropped as the desert course occupied attention for the rest of the meal. Once satiated, Lydia excused herself and practically dragged an apologizing Lt. Bullen out of the room.

  “We have been invited to a small gathering at the Dillingham’s. A farewell party for Henry before he goes off to University. Don’t wait up for me,” Lydia explained as she swept from the room. Soon, the sound of the hall door slamming could be heard echoing through the house before an awkward silence reigned.

  Mr. Bennet threw down his napkin in exasperation and rose slowly to his feet. Lydia was beyond hope, it was probably best that she not be present for Sir Franklin’s news for fear it be spread about all of Meryton.

  “Shall we go through to the parlor? Our discussion will be more comfortable there.”

  ******

  “As you all know, it was suspected that Captain Wickham was not alone in his actions. My investigation has led to a number of potential accomplices… including Lt. Albert Bullen. His attachment to Lydia has made him easier to follow, but as of yet, there is no solid evidence linking him.”

  “Is Lydia in danger? My poor girl has been through enough.” Wailed Mrs. Bennet.

  “Unfortunately, Mrs. Wickham is not above suspicion either. I must ask you to not alarm her unduly.”

  Mrs. Bennet made an intelligible noise of disagreement but nodded her acceptance. Why did her youngest child continue to have no regard for her nerves?

  “Well, if I have everyone’s agreement than I should like to make a happier announcement, but one that also must remain secret for the moment.”

  All eyes turned on Sir Franklin as he motioned for Kitty to stand beside him. Her face was beaming with happiness as he announced their engagement.

  “We will not make any public announcement until after Mary and Atlas’ wedding. Every Bennet sister should have their own day, unshadowed by another.”

  Pleased by the expected news, as well as the consideration for her and Atlas’ own celebration, Mary offered her sincerest congratulations, but none outshone the pleasure of Mrs. Bennet as she crowed with achievement.

  “Oh Mister Bennet! All of our girls settled…what happiness.”

  “But Mama, that is not quite right, Lydia is no longer married,” Kitty corrected gently.

  “A lady only need be married once… besides, Lydia is hardly without attentions,” Mrs. Bennet replied with a wave of dismissal.

  Mary rolled her eyes in Atlas’ direction. Somehow, she doubted that any attention Lydia garnered would end in a positive manner. However, such talk was not for a celebration and she quickly changed the subject to the merits of summer weddings.

  ~Three~

  The day after Sir Franklin’s announcement, Mary sought out her sister for a more private congratulations. Hoping that Kitty would accompany her on a much overdue visit to Reverend Morton. With Mary’s wedding growing closer with each passing day, it was necessary to attend to preparations for the church ceremony. Dressing in a more conservative manner than usual, Mary went to Kitty’s adjoining bedchamber only to find it empty. Surprised that the younger Bennet sister had already risen, Mary nearly collided with the head housemaid as the servant carried a pile of linens up the stair.

  “Bridget, have you seen my sister?”

  “To which one would you be referring Miss Mary?”

  “Kitty…. I assume Lydia is still abed as it is only eight o’clock.”

  Bridget snorted with derision before responding. Despite being a servant, and one relatively new to Longbourn, Bridget had never sugar coated her speech when speaking with the young woman she considered Mistress of the house. Her candid nature, combined with a natural ability to manage people, had made a positive impression upon Mary, who intended to offer Bridget the post of housekeeper once Mrs. Hill repaired to the dower house with her parents.

  “You are mistaken miss. While I cannot say for sure where either is at the moment, Mrs. Wickham is definitely not here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She came home well after midnight, and left soon after with a packed case. That soldier was with her.”

  “Why did you not tell anyone?”

  “It were none of my business. I was just fetching some milk to sooth a sour stomach when I saw them go down the back stair.”

  Exasperated, Mary only sighed and dismissed Bridget to continue her duties. The maid was right, it was not her responsibility to keep aware of Lydia’s movements. Taking the stairs by twos, Mary retraced her steps to the closed door of Lydia’s chamber. Pausing, Mary quelled the feeling of dread that had built before facing what she assumed to now be true. Lydia had run off once again. Entering the chamber, Mary found it in complete disarray. Clothes were strewn on the floor and the wardrobe had been emptied, but no toiletries could be seen. It appeared as if Lydia had tried to take as much as possible without a trunk. The only thing not in complete disorder was a small envelope that had been propped up on the bedside table. It was addressed to Kitty but Mary broke the seal without hesitation. Lydia’s actions tended to have long reaching effects, Mary was not about to wait to be told.

  The letter was a single sheet, more of a note in passing, filled with Lydia’s untidy scrawl.

  Dearest Kitty,

  By now you will have realized that I have done it again! This time it is for good as my soon to be new husband, Bertie Bullen is a man of considerable wealth. I shall write as to our whereabouts once we are settled so you may come and visit… or shall I say escape Longbourn.

  Lydia

  Mary refolded the note and sat heavily down on the unkempt bed just as the letter’s intended reader poked her head in the doorway.

  “So… she’s gone again?” Kitty asked flatly as she joined Mary and read the note for herself.

  “So it seems.”

  “Well that is that. Honestly, I am glad. I love my sister, but she does not care a whit about anyone but herself.”

  Mary only nodded. How was she going to tell her pare
nts? Mama would be in hysterics and Papa would lock himself away in his library. Despite the early hour, Mary could feel a headache coming on in full force. Refusing to allow Lydia’s latest antic to spoil her day, Mary made her request that Kitty accompany her that morning.

  “I should be delighted. With two weddings on the horizon we need to have a happier focus. Your ceremony will provide grand practice for my own. I should like to stop at the dressmaker’s to get some ideas. We can tell Mama about this later, no sense spoiling the day for everyone,” Kitty replied and stuffed the note into her pocket where it was soon forgotten.

  ******

  By late morning, the Bennet sisters had finished their shopping in time to make their appointment with the vicar. Never one to lock his door, the young ladies called a welcome before entering. Reverend Arthur Morton had chosen to live out his days alone since the passing of his wife some years ago. It had been arranged for a local woman to come a few days a week for general cleaning and cooking, but nothing more besides the occasional visits of his parishioners between Sunday services.

  “Reverend Morton? It’s Mary and Katherine Bennet. Are you home?” Mary called out before entering the dark paneled hall that served as a general reception for the three rooms that connected to the entry. The house had been built in the shape of a horseshoe, with each room connecting to another so one might enter the parlor and make a half circle, exiting through the dining room on the opposite side of the hall. A narrow stair ran up one side of the entry to a matching floorplan above. A strange arrangement for bedchambers to be sure, but it was charming nonetheless. Hearing a grunt of acknowledgement, accompanied by the scrape of a chair against bare wood floors. The vicar of Meryton soon made an appearance.

  It had been some weeks since Mary had last seen him outside of weekly church. Now, under closer scrutiny, she observed that he was not at all well. The once robust man was wheezing slightly as if his breath caused pain and beads of perspiration had formed across his forehead.

  “My dear Vicar! What have you been doing to tire yourself so? Surely there is nothing that requires such an exertion?” Mary asked as the older man sat heavily down on a bench that served to hold the hats of visitors.

  “Oh don’t you be worrying about me, I just took a bit too much sun out in the garden. I should be to rights momentarily.”

  Eyeing him carefully, Mary did not believe a word, but did not dare accuse a vicar of falsehood. Instead, she put Kitty to work making a pot of tea as she offered her arm for support as they repaired to the parlor. As she waited for him to recover, Mary made a mental note to tell Atlas about this episode. No doubt he would insist upon a full physical. However, true to his word, by the time Kitty returned with the tea tray, Reverend Morton was indeed his old self and smiled indulgently upon the Bennet girls. At one point in recent years, he had considered offering marriage to Mary. She would have been a comfort in his dotage, but sense had won out over selfishness. He was older that her own father and now he was to officiate Mary’s marriage to another. While Reverend Morton did not necessarily approve of some of the young doctor’s strange new methods, he had to admit that Atlas Sutton was a wonderful match for Mary. Now, as she sat before him, a bit of nostalgia threatened to overtake him. Mary Bennet’s wedding would be the last he would perform before taking retirement. A bittersweet feeling indeed. Forcing what he believed to be a genuine smile, Reverend Morton began to offer suggestions as to planning the religious aspects of the ceremony.

  After nearly two hours, and equal amounts of tea, Mary and Kitty bid the kindly vicar good day and left him to his own devices with a promise to remind Mr. Bennet of the church council meeting the following week. As he waved the girls off, Arthur Morton had to admit that his mind had been elsewhere that morning. Upon rising, he have felt remarkably well. There had been no constant pressure in his chest, a feeling that had begun to be quite regular. Nor had he experienced the least bit fatigued as he went about making his own breakfast before repairing to the small garden behind the vicarage. The walled enclosure had been his sanctuary ever since he first took up the post at Meryton. A single crushed stone path led to a circular opening in the shrubbery. It had been the perfect place to compose his sermons. The greenery and fresh air had been a constant reminder of God’s wonders. However, that morning, the presence of the divine was strangely absent. Frustrated, Reverend Morton had cast aside his pen and paper, choosing to remove an errant weed or two. It was in such occupation that he had begun to experience a spell of dizziness. His vision had swam muddily before him and he had been forced to grope his way back to the house, taking a few moments of composure as the episode passed. Just as he was promising God that he would visit the doctor, the bell had rung to announce the arrival of the Bennet sisters.

  To his mind, Mary Bennet was the best of the lot, with perhaps Jane a close second. Elizabeth was far to open with her opinions for a man of his traditional ideas. Lydia, God help her, was a bad apple, and if Katherine was not taken in hand, would soon follow in a likewise manner. He had hoped with most of the girls married, that Mary’s demeanor would have a positive effect on Katherine. Perhaps as a last interference before retiring, he would introduce the new curate…. Whomever he turned out to be… to Katherine.

  Sighing, the old man sat heavily down at his desk and idly paged through the thin stack of references. There had been ten in all, but some he had immediately discarded. A living such as Meryton must not be casually handed to an unworthy candidate… and surely not that simpering William Collins. The man had dropped in unannounced almost daily since his arrival. Eventually, he had been forced to tell falsehoods to be rid of the insufferable creature. Reverend Morton chastised himself for such uncharitable thoughts, and prayed that God would forgive, but the esteemed Reverend Collins was a difficult man to tolerate beyond a few minutes. Even polite pleasantries turned into an unannounced dialogue of no significance. The patronage of Meryton did not deserve to suffer under such a man. It had hardly been a secret in the religious circles as to the reason behind Collins’ dismissal. Once Miss de Bourgh had shown the slightest interest in marriage, the man’s days had been numbered. Lady Catherine would use the living to bait prospective young men. It was a horrible misuse of God’s house, but none dared naysay the woman, not even the bishop.

  Now, with his own career coming to an end, his successor must be chosen. However, it would be a more diplomatic process as the church council would give their opinions and a majority vote before any offers were to be made. Stacking the letters to place his own choice foremost, Reverend Morton heard the front door open suggesting another visitor. He had not been expecting anyone else that morning, but Mr. Collins had formed a habit of stopping by unannounced. However, a strangely familiar female voice called out his name.

  “Reverend Morton? Are you here?” rang a voice tinged with humor.

  Rising to greet the stranger, he was surprised at the sight of the voice’s owner. It had been nearly two years since he had last laid eyes upon that young woman, and she was not alone. Another red-coated solider accompanied Lydia Bennet.

  “Why hello Miss Bennet… or is it yet Mrs. Wickham? How may I be of service to you and your friend today?”

  “Oh my dear Reverend, we are in a bit of a pickle… and one only you can solve.” Lydia replied as she motioned for Lt. Albert Bullen to secure the door behind them. This was a matter of some urgency… and privacy.

  ~Four~

  Mary happily abandoned Kitty at the door of Meryton’s finest… and only dressmaker. Knowing she would be occupied for some hours, it allowed for a perfect opportunity to spend some much needed time in Atlas’ surgery. Normally scheduled to see the non-emergent patients that did not actually require a doctor, Mary had gotten accustomed to assisting in the medical practice. However, her usual three mornings a week had been temporarily curtailed by wedding preparations. It was fortuitous that no significant outbreaks of illness had befallen the residents, requiring her help. As it was, Mary had enough
to do. Not only was she making the last of the wedding arrangements, but the dower house that was being built to accommodate her parents was nearly finished, yet required supervision to prevent her mother from making expensive changes at the last moment. When combined with the running of Longbourn and its tenant farms, there was enough work for an army, save one person. It was well indeed that Mary thrived under hard work, but some days she simply wanted to escape it all. Fortunately, in just a few short weeks, she would be Mrs. Atlas Sutton, able to divide her time between Longbourn and the Surgery. Thinking about the future, Mary entertained the possibility of training young Ben, the man of all work as a sort of estate manager. While he would have much to learn, Ben loved the place and was reliable. Resolving to discuss it with Atlas before deciding, Mary pushed open the door to the reception area, only to find it filled with people in various stages of misery. Apparently, influenza had made an impromptu visit to Meryton. With Atlas nowhere in sight, and the door to the private examination room closed, she sighed with a smile. It was business as usual as Mary tied on an apron and greeted her first patient.

  Hours later, and Kitty completely forgotten, Mary joined Atlas in an empty reception room for a much needed bite to eat.

  “All I have is the remnants of today’s packed breakfast, courtesy of Mrs. Kincaid. Thankfully, she makes enough for at least ten people.”

  “Agreed, that is why I have raised her wages. So much has created extra work for the servants, especially Cook. I cannot risk having her give notice before the wedding… or ever, for that matter.”

  “Speaking of our upcoming day, did your meeting with Reverend Morton go well?”

  “Oh yes, everything is quite set, but… I do not believe that he is as well as he pretends. He smiles and offers reassurances to my inquiries, but his flushed face and labored breathing tell otherwise.”