Mary opened her mouth then closed it again. She glanced over her shoulder at her mother who was speaking animatedly with Lady Lucas. She sighed.
“I will tell you, but you must not tell anyone until you hear it from another source first,” Mary said. She glanced back at thetwo chatting ladies and added, “I suspect it will not take long for that to happen.”
“You have my word, Mary,” said Alan.
Mary looked at him appraisingly as if she was attempting to decide whether to believe him. Then she said quietly, “Elizabeth inherited a great deal of property from an entirely unexpected source. It took many forms, so there was a great deal of work to get it all transferred over to her. Now that it is all settled, her income is more than twice that of my father.”
“Twice…” cried Alan as the shock of the declaration made him unwise.
Mary shushed him immediately. “Not so loud, if you please,” she said.
“I apologize,” he said. “I am certain you can understand my shock, but I should not have raised my voice. How did she inherit such a fortune without knowing about it ahead of time?”
Mary gained a twinkle of humor in her eyes. The contrast between that expression and her normally serious or flat expression was so entrancing that Alan vowed then and there to make her laugh as often as possible.
“It was entirely a fluke,” said Mary. As she told him the story of Elizabeth’s inheritance, he could understand why Mary found it so humorous. He had never heard of such a thing in all his life.
She concluded her story by saying, “Elizabeth has been most generous to the rest of the family. She plans to take us all to London for the first three months of next year. Additionally, she has convinced our father to create dowries for us. Can you imagine? The Bennets, who for as long as anyone can remember have been doomed to genteel poverty should our father ever pass away, are now among the best catches in the neighborhood.”
“I know it is a gauche question,” said Alan, “but would you mind telling me just how much of a dowry you and your sisters have now?”
Mary shrugged her shoulders. “I might as well tell you. All of this will be common knowledge in less than a week.” She glanced at her mother once again. “Possibly in less than twenty-four hours. We each have five thousand pounds in addition to the one thousand pounds we will get when our mother passes away.”
“That is quite the improvement,” said Alan. “With that, I doubt Miss Bennet will remain unmarried for much longer.”
He must have said the wrong thing, for Mary narrowed her eyes in irritation. “So, an improved dowry suddenly makes someone more worthy of marriage?”
Alan waved his hands in defense. “No, that is not at all what I meant,” he said. “It is only that I have heard several gentlemen claim a decided preference for her, but they never did anything about it, because they couldn’t afford a wife with no dowry. Now, however, she will likely receive much more attention, and she can make a choice rather than be forced to take whoever will offer for her.”
“Hmm,” said Mary as she studied him once again. “I suppose you have a point. She has always been greatly admired.” Her gaze moved briefly over to where both of her older sisters were chatting with John Lucas and Brian Jones. “Though I suspect Elizabeth will receive even more attention given the fact that the vast majority of the fortune in question is still hers.”
She looked out over the room. Then, without turning toward him, as though what she was saying didn’t matter in the slightest, she said, “And are you one of those who will be paying Jane or Elizabeth more attention?”
He watched her as she looked away. Did he dare hope that she would be jealous if he paid more attention to her sisters? How should he answer? It didn’t take long to decide, less than a moment, in fact. With Mary, it was always best to be completely honest.
“I am not,” he said. “There is another lady who already has all my attention.”
Her head turned toward him. For some reason he could not understand, there was fear in her expression. “And who is the lady who has captured your attention so well that it cannot be diverted even by the most beautiful, kindest young lady one could ever hope to meet or by the wittiest, wealthiest lady in the county?”
“Mary, after all these years, you must know that it is you,” said Alan. He wasn’t certain whether he was making a mistake or not by declaring himself thus in the middle of a growing crowd, but she had asked, and he must answer.
For some reason, his answer only made her more afraid. “Me?” she asked. “For years?”
“Yes,” he responded. “For as long as I have known you, in fact.”
She looked back out toward the rest of the room. “I suppose you have always paid me a great deal of attention,” she mused. Then she turned back to him. “Pray, what form will this attention take going forward? Will you be teasing and criticizing? Will you shove me down into the mud? Or perhaps, you will force me to climb a tree so that I can pretend that I am a princess in distress and then refuse to rescue me.”
Alan groaned and ran his hand down his face. “I am an idiot, Mary. A simple and foolish man. I always have been, and I always will be. I can try to improve, as I have been doing eversince I came home from London, but no matter what I do, I cannot change the fact that many of my actions are determined by my emotions rather than any reason that makes sense. Honestly, I think that is one of the things that draws me to you, for you are quite the opposite. Being near you is like finding a safe and steady harbor in the middle of a storm.”
As he spoke, her fear shifted into a puzzled expression. “I have always known this about you,” she said. “I admit that I was often jealous that you could just live life without thinking so hard about everything. But that does not explain what kind of emotion would lead to you tormenting the very person you claim to admire. It does not make sense.”
“I did not understand what I was doing at the time,” said Alan, “though I think I understand now. I will do my best to explain, but it is not the kind of discussion that should be had in such a public venue.”
Mary looked around her once again, though this time she seemed to be seeing the growing number of people for the first time. “I suppose you are correct,” she said. “Very well. I should probably mingle for a bit before the dancing starts, and I am certain there are others you wish to greet. If nothing else, you will likely be pleased to see Mr. Bingley again when he arrives.”
In all honesty, he would rather be talking with Mary than greeting his old friend, but it would not do to monopolize her attention for too long. As for Mr. Bingley, Alan had been pleased to renew his acquaintance when the gentleman arrived in the neighborhood a few weeks ago.
Bingley had been one of those gentleman Alan associated with during his first six months in London, before he had joined his current club. Alan admired the man. He was friendly and energetic but not foolish. In fact, before joining his club, Alan had seriously been considering joining the gentleman’s clubBingley was a member of. The members he had met were all friendly, lively sorts, but they weren’t too loud or too crass.
