“What are you working on?” he asked.
Mary held up the partially finished nightgown. “It is an infant’s nightdress for one of the pregnant women on my father’s estate. She has been rather ill with this baby, so I thought I could help by making this for her.”
Mr. Allen nodded. “That is very kind of you,” he said. “I assume you will be visiting the tenants here in the coming days, getting to know them as well as you do the ones at Longbourn.”
Mary smiled. “Of course. It is one of the things I am most looking forward to.”
He grunted instead of making any response, but when Mary glanced up at him, he seemed pleased. His expression made her bold, so she asked, “What do you like to do with your time?”
He shrugged. “It depends on whether I am here or in London. Perhaps you did not know, but I go to London from January to May every year. When I am here, I visit my near neighbors once or twice a week, but I spend most of my time riding, hunting, and reading the paper. Of course, there are the necessary matters of business such as monitoring myinvestments and writing letters. I write and receive a great many letters, which is how I glean enough knowledge to invest wisely.”
“And in London?” Mary prompted.
“I am a much more sociable creature in London, but only among close friends. Most mornings I go riding in Hyde Park. Some of my afternoons are spent on business and letters, but I spend some afternoons at my club or visiting my friends. Evenings are often taken with social engagements, dinner parties and whatnot. Which reminds me, we will need to throw a dinner party of our own when we get there, so I can introduce you to my friends.”
Mary’s hands stopped moving, and she looked up at her husband. She could feel the fear showing in her face as her eyes grew wide.
“Do not fret,” he said in a calming manner. “I know you will be able to handle this by the time we go. My friends will not judge you harshly, should you not be the perfect social butterfly. In fact, the reason we are friends is because we all share a certain lack of social inclination. You can get plenty of practice between now and then by inviting your family or your friends for dinner here.”
His words calmed her somewhat, but she was still filled with doubt as to whether she could accomplish this new task. “I shall do my best, sir,” she said.
At her response, Mr. Allen’s face took on an odd look. “You know, you can be a little less formal with me, now,” he said. “We are married, you know, and this is your home. It seems as though you are pushing me away when you refuse to even use my name.”
“I am so sorry,” Mary said. “I meant it as a sign of respect and to show you that I can defer to your judgment since, notonly are you my husband, but you are also older and much more experienced of the world.”
“Very well,” he said. “Then, as the more experienced one, I will tell you that it is only the most beaten down of wives who refer to their husbands as ‘sir.’ When you do so, it makes me feel quite monstrous. Call me Henry, or if you truly cannot, call me Mr. Allen.”
Mary knew her mother and father usually referred to each other as Mr. and Mrs. so she was mostly comfortable doing so with Mr. Allen. Calling him by his Christian name seemed impossible, however. He was far too old, far too respectable, for her to presume to be his equal by calling him Henry.
“I shall call you Mr. Allen, then,” she said. “I apologize for causing you distress before.”
He waved away her apology with his hand. “Do not concern yourself,” he said. “I suspect you have much to learn, and I will do my best to be patient. At least you seem willing to learn. That is a characteristic highly in your favor. Now, I believe it is time to change for dinner.” He rose and made to leave the room. “I shall see you in an hour.”
Dinner was a little awkward, but the conversation flowed as the two newlyweds got to know each other, their likes, dislikes, hobbies, and many other little things. After dinner, they took turns reading to each other from a novel Mr. Allen had begun recently.
As the evening progressed, Mary became more and more nervous. Her mother had explained the basics of what she could expect from her husband on their wedding night. Mary considered that, of all the times when she had made something awkward, this was the one time she was sure to do so and therefore ruin everything.
After a couple of hours of reading, Mr. Allen closed the book, stood, and held out his hand. Mary took it, and he led her to her room. “Get your maid to let your hair down and brush it out, but do not re-braid it for the night. Change into your nightgown and wait for me.” He kissed her hand and caressed it in a calming manner. “Try to relax. I shall not harm you.”
He turned and headed for his own room. Mary took a deep breath and entered her chambers. She went past her sitting room and entered her bedroom, where Anna was waiting for her.
Mary’s first joining with her husband changed something fundamentally within her. He was a considerate lover, not particularly passionate, but appreciative of what she offered. Since she had learned to respect and trust him over the previous weeks, she trusted that he would take care of her, and he did.
They joined together as man and wife at least every other day from then onward. Mr. Allen always told her at dinner whether he would come to her room that night, and she was grateful for the forewarning. As she learned more about him and what he liked, she learned more about herself as well, and she became more confident. Gradually, the act became more enjoyable, but it was never something she actively sought.
The confidence she learned in the bedroom and by conversing with Mr. Allen at dinner every day somehow translated into Mary’s daily life. She had more confidence that she could manage people, and her housekeeping improved. She had more confidence that she could talk to strangers, and her socializing skills improved.
She learned enough confidence to tackle the problems that the village’s school was having, though she had to teach the children herself for a couple of weeks while she looked for someone who was willing to take on the task. Even so, it all worked out in the end.
Once a week, Mrs. Bennet and all of Mary’s sisters would visit Mary at Braydon Hall, and not a single visit went by without at least one of them commenting on how improved she looked or how much married life seemed to suit her.
Surprisingly, Mary appreciated all the little bits of gossip they would bring her. She had always assumed gossip was evil, but she now saw that it was an important way of staying connected to one’s neighbors without having to visit them every day. She still didn’t approve of spreading lies or besmirching anyone’s character, but it was interesting to know when the Lucas’ pigs had got into their garden or when Mrs. Goulding was pregnant with her sixth child.
Once a month, Mr. and Mrs. Allen threw a dinner party. The first one was only attended by Mary’s family and the Allens’ nearest neighbor. Each subsequent one, however, was bigger than the last as Mary learned how to plan one properly and how to behave as a hostess. She was never as good at the latter as she wished to be, but at the end of each party, the guests seemed happy and content, and that was what mattered the most.
On Christmas Day, the Allens spent most of the day at Longbourn, along with Mrs. Bennet’s brother and sister, Mr. Gardiner and Mrs. Phillips, and their families. It was a crowded but joyful time, and Mary was glad to be a part of the love that pervaded the house. Even so, she was also grateful to return to her own home with Mr. Allen at the end of the day.
The first Monday in January, Mr. and Mrs. Allen made the short trip to their townhome in London. It wasn’t particularly large, and it wasn’t in the most fashionable neighborhood, but it was more than large enough for Mary and her husband, and the neighborhood was neat and clean and clearly was occupied by respectable people.
