He wasn’t about to start now. What thoughts he had about Miss Bennet were simply idle curiosity, nothing more. She was a complex person, behaving in two very different ways, and he was curious as to why that might be.
He heard her voice before he saw her that morning. She was singingThe Water is Wide, sometimes known asO Waly, Waly. He had heard the song sung many times, usually by a young lady who wished to show off the control she had over her voice. Occasionally, it was sung by someone who wished to appear sentimental.
This was nothing like anything he had ever heard.
Miss Bennet was clearly mourning the loss of a love. Every phrase was expressed with sincerity. Every note was sung with sadness so deep it was close to despair. There were even a few moments when her voice cracked slightly with suppressed tears.
John was baffled. She had seemed so happy the night before. She had smiled slightly several times as they played whist together. It was more expression that he had ever seen on her face.
Now, only twelve hours later, she was singing as if her heart would break.
Had she received a letter? Was the man she loved far away and she learned of his death? Had he married someone else? Or perhaps she had learned that he had betrayed her in some way.
An instinct to comfort the peculiar lady arose in John’s chest. He even took a step around the tree he was hiding behind so he could go toward her. Then he stopped himself.
He was a stranger here. His presence would not in any way be a comfort to Miss Bennet. He would simply make her feel awkward in her sorrow.
He stepped back out of sight and contented himself with merely listening. When she was out of earshot, he headed back to Netherfield. He was no longer in the mood for rambling in the woods.
That night, he played cards at the Red Lion. He was far more reckless than usual, but the local gentlemen did not complain, since they won a total of thirty pounds off of him.
~~~~~
Mary felt a bit relieved after her emotional sojourn through the forest. Though she could not seem to lessen Mr. Porter’shold on her mind or her heart, she was more resigned to the knowledge that it would be a temporary situation. He would leave at the end of April, and that would be the end of it.
She stopped writing letters to him and burning them in the fireplace. She had learned that it was pointless. She decided to simply wait it out, and she would deal with the heartbreak when it came. In the meantime, she enjoyed his company as often as she could.
As the month of March passed, the weather began to warm. There were more social engagements in the neighborhood, and Mary’s evenings became more full.
March and April were Mary’s favorite time of year. The temperature fluctuated quite a bit, sometimes from one day to the next, making life a little more exciting and unpredictable. At the same time, it was fascinating to watch the woods slowly awaken from their slumber as if they were coming back to life.
When it wasn’t rainy or threatening to storm, Mary spent as much time as possible beneath the trees, sketching and cataloguing every new plant she could find. She also began implementing her plans for the greenhouse. It was still too early to plant outside, but the greenhouse was just warm enough that she could keep her plants alive.
With more social engagements, she saw Mr. Porter more often. As the month progressed, she gradually became used to his presence. She could not help the fact that he drew her gaze to him, and she could not prevent her curiosity about the man, but she managed to prevent herself from doing anything embarrassing in his presence.
There were no more card parties that month, for which Mary was grateful. She didn’t think she could have managed to partner him again without giving away some hint of her feelings.
Towards the end of the month, on a day that was the warmest yet, Mary once again headed for the woods with her sketch pad in hand and several pencils in her pocket. As she walked, she was focused mainly on the ground, noticing the various types of new growth on the forest floor.
Of course, many of the tiny plants were ones she had seen before. Most were ones she had sketched before. Any time she saw something new, she drew as accurate a picture of it as she could and compared her drawing to the ones in her book of common plants to identify it.
Most of them were found within the pages of that book, but there were a few that she had not been able to identify. Still, the effort was worthwhile. Knowing the names of the plants around her made her feel more familiar and more comfortable in their presence.
As she strolled along, she was required to look around her occasionally to take note of which direction she was traveling in. As she did so, she happened to notice a gentleman crouching next to a clump of plants. She assumed he was studying them.
Then, to her great distress, he began to reach out to them as if he would pick them up. “Stop!” she cried as loud as she could while she picked up her skirts and began running toward him. “Stop!” she shouted again.
The gentleman stopped the progression of his hand just before he touched the plants. He looked up at her in surprise.
Even in her distressed state, Mary could only sigh in frustration when she realized that the gentleman was Mr. Porter. Of all the men she might meet alone in such a place, he was the worst possible one. Not because she disliked his company, but rather because the idea of being alone with him was all too appealing.
“Is something the matter?” he asked, standing as she approached.
She stopped in front of him and paused to catch her breath. When she could, she said, “Though those leaves there look perfectly plain right now, they are in fact lords and ladies.”
She was relieved when he readily understood, acknowledging her warning by saying, “Ah.” Lords and ladies is a rather flamboyant weed. In its early stages, it grows a leaf and stamen that looks almost like a lily, though it is green instead of white. It eventually grows a cluster of red berries on a tall stalk.
It is eye-catching and unmistakable once it begins to grow, but the leaves on the forest floor in front of Mr. Porter were still in their infancy. It had taken some time for Mary to discover their identity.
