Finally, when there were only two dances left, Mr. Porter approached Mary. “Miss Bennet,” he said, “I was hoping to secure your last dance of the evening.”
Mary opened her mouth to accept, but she closed it without uttering a sound. In that moment, she realized that she couldn’t possibly accept his offer.
If she danced with him, it would be impossible to hide how very much she loved him. While she no longer cared whether he knew of her feelings, she cared very much whether her neighbors knew. If her feelings were widely known in the neighborhood, there would be no end to the gossip and rumors that would circulate when he inevitably left.
“I…” she said. Then she stopped once again. The refusal she must give stuck in her throat. She cleared it and forced herself to be strong. She wished she could simply tell him that her last dance was taken, but it was not, and she could not lie to him. With a great effort, she said, “I am afraid I cannot.”
“I knew I should have asked earlier,” said Mr. Porter. “I suppose your last dance is taken.”
Mary felt her cheeks flame in embarrassment. “It is not,” she managed to force out.
The look of surprise and hurt on Mr. Porter’s face was more than she could bear. She turned her gaze to the floor so she would not have to see it.
There was silence between them for quite some time, but she could tell by the position of his boots that he had not moved away.
“Does that mean I will no longer see you by the bridge?” he asked quietly enough that no one else could possibly hear.
Mary’s gaze immediately flew back to his face as she said firmly, “I will be there tomorrow, same as always.”
With a puzzled expression, he said, “I am glad to hear it.” Then he turned and walked away.
Mary watched him and wondered if she had just made a mistake that she would regret for the rest of her life.
~~~~~
Mary found it difficult to sleep that night. She tossed and turned, thinking over all the time she had spent in Mr. Porter’s company. She remembered how very good a team they were when playing cards. She replayed the many times they had drawn a new plant together with their heads close together, bent over a single sheet of paper.
She remembered the intense feelings of attraction she felt for the man, and those were the feelings that were hardest to chase away.
When she finally slept, it was only for a couple of hours before the bright sunlight broke through the curtains waking her up. Somehow, immediately upon waking, Mary knew she must take action. She could not continue as she was with Mr. Porter.
The most sensible action would be to not meet him again. Everything in her knew that such was the correct course of action. Even so, she could not prevent herself from going to him. It was impossible to know he was waiting for her and prevent herself from taking the opportunity to see him, to have his undivided attention.
Not knowing what else to do, she resorted to her old habit of writing a letter, but this time she would do something a little different.
Before getting dressed, before brushing her hair, even before washing her face, Mary sat at her desk and poured out her feelings onto paper. With all the willpower she could muster,she hoped and prayed that this time, by some miracle, she would find a way to break Mr. Porter’s hold on her heart.
It was nearly noon by the time Mary descended the stairs. Given that assemblies invariably ran well into the morning hours, it was not surprising or even out of the ordinary. What was unusual was that Mary had only slept a couple of hours. Despite this, she felt wide awake and almost jumpy as if she was anticipating some sort of momentous occasion.
She had barely finished her breakfast when Miss Lucas and Miss King arrived. They always gathered on the day after assemblies or big parties to discuss the events that had occurred. Though Mary did not feel as though she had much to share, she was grateful for their friendly, cheerful chatter which distracted her from anticipating her plans to go to the woods later.
Mary was entirely caught off-guard when, fifteen minutes into their conversation, Miss King said, “You looked remarkably well last night, Mary. Have you been doing anything different lately?”
Mary knew she was asking about skin care or hair care or something along those lines, and she was certainly not doing anything unusual there. Still, she could not help but think of the fact that she had been doing something quite different by meeting Mr. Porter in the woods. She couldn’t prevent the corners of her lips from tilting upward just the tiniest bit.
“I knew it,” said Miss Lucas, immediately noticing the hint of a smile on Mary’s face. “You are doing something different. Even my brother noticed it. Do you know, on the way home he said that he thought you were quite pretty last night? He hardly ever compliments the ladies in our neighborhood. I would not be surprised if he pays you more attention from now on.”
“I hope not.” The words darted from Mary’s mouth before she could stop them.
“Do you not like Mr. Lucas?” asked Miss King. “I have always thought him quite handsome.”
Mary took a deep breath so that she could respond calmly. “He is handsome. I suppose it is only that I have known him for so long that I don’t think I could ever consider him as a suitor.” She knew it was more than that, but she couldn’t possibly explain to his sister that she could barely stand the sight of him, because she was holding a two-year-old, completely irrational, grudge against him.
“Well, if you do not want him, feel free to send him my way,” said Miss King, shocking both Miss Lucas and Mary.
Miss Lucas recovered first. “Do you mean that you like my brother?” she asked.
Miss King blushed, but she said, “Very much. He has always been polite and kind to me, and I truly think him the best-looking gentleman in the neighborhood. If only I didn’t have such freckles, I might not feel it to be so hopeless.”
