~*~Mary King’s Tale~*~
I have never been the romantic heroine type. For one thing, I don’t look the part. Both of my parents are rather taller than average, but I did not inherit their height. My figure is not elegant, either. I never developed womanly curves, so the high waists of current fashion do well to hide my thick waist, but I am afraid I do not have much on top to push up and look nice in décolletage. And sadly, the trait that I did inherit from my father was a spotty complexion. I would feel much more at ease with my auburn hair if the freckles weren’t so bad.
Now, even though I am not the handsomest girl in Hertfordshire, I do have many friends and enjoy a tolerably good life. The Kings own a smallish estate called Penfold, and we have lived here in Meryton for four generations. My best friends are Evangeline and Isabella Long, and we have great fun going into town together, shopping, and finding merry topics to discuss. Sometimes we visit the Bennets, as they have five daughters, and sometimes the Lucases, who have only two. We like to laugh, and find humour in most situations.
About a month ago, some notable events happened in Meryton. A gentleman from the North of England leased an estate that had long been unoccupied, Netherfield. Of course we were all agog to see him, but we did not have that pleasure until the Meryton assembly.
We are quite fortunate to live in a town large enough for such gaieties. There is a ballroom at the inn, and when the moon is full and the weather is fair, the ladies organize a ball or assembly. Oh, how I love to dance! I have only my younger, clumsy brother to practice with. Dances afford me the opportunity to really dance, with a variety of partners. And I know the only proper touching I can accept from a gentleman is handholding while we go down the line, or an occasional brush against each others’ forms, but the thrills I feel, and the breathlessness, well! I can only say that I am left after each dance yearning for more.
But dear reader, I have digressed. I was telling you about Mr. Bingley and his friends. You can imagine at this assembly how glad I was to accept a dance from him. He moved very well! At one point, while going down the dance, his foot trod through some spilled wine and I was afraid he would fall, but he regained his footing and we continued merrily up the set.
After our dance, I moved to stand with Evangeline and we drank some punch. Mr. Bingley had asked Jane Bennet, the eldest, to dance, and Evangeline and I admired their dancing; they made a lovely pair. You may imagine I was jealous, but dear reader, I was not. Although Mr. Bingley was an amiable fellow, he did not excite me in any way. I had heard that he was in the way of having a good sum of money, but his personality did not strike me as one I could bear every day for any length of time, so I gladly watched Jane dance with him and harbored no ill will for either of them.
When that dance was over, Charlotte Lucas joined us for another glass of punch. We ladies had to take turns with available gentlemen at this assembly as we outnumbered them. We discussed some light topics as the color of the ladies’ dresses and accessories in Mr. Bingley’s party. Presently, the second eldest Bennet girl, Elizabeth came over to us, her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.
“You will not believe what an insult I have just been given,” she said. “Do you see Mr. Bingley’s friend? The tall fellow who looks as if he had been weaned on a pickle? His friend told him to ask a lady to dance, and exampled me as a suitable choice. That gentleman told him that he was not ‘in a humour to give consequence to ladies who are slighted by other men’! And then he had the nerve to continue and say that I was ‘not handsome enough to tempt’ him!”
Charlotte immediately said, “Oh, no!” while Evangeline and I burst out laughing.
I made a show of looking around the ballroom. “Where are these multitudes of men who are slighting you, Elizabeth? They neglect us as well.”
“Aye, if you are not handsome enough for his taste, I can not imagine what his taste would be, then,” Evangeline commented. “Does he consider the ladies in his party handsome enough to whet his appetite?” Her eyes grew big as she continued, “London tastes must be so very different in what they consider handsome, then.”
We all made a pact to stay away from the cad. Handsome and rich though he may be, if Elizabeth Bennet was not pretty enough for him, I definitely would not live up to his standards. The Bennets are known for their beauty and charm. Well, all except Mary. She looks something like me.
Our pact was not difficult to keep. The man hardly went about in society, so it was easy to avoid him. Another event that made it easy was a company of a militia regiment that came to Meryton to train. They set up a drilling practice field right next to one of Penfold’s fields. My brother went out daily to watch, and I confess I did the same. The officers in their bright red coats made me tingle more than when I danced! They looked so dashing and strong. I could just imagine them protecting me from a rampaging enemy.
One fine afternoon, my mother invited several officers to have refreshments after their exercises. I dispatched an invitation to Evangeline and Isabella, and they arrived as quickly as their kid boots would allow them to walk. That afternoon, we served and charmed as well as we could. One officer in particular caught my eye: Mr. Wickham.
Mr. Wickham was new to the regiment. It seemed he had experienced exciting adventures already in life. He had received a fine education, and hoped to rise in the military to a grand and prosperous career. I sat and listened to him with stars in my eyes, I’m sure. His handsome countenance and good form in his uniform dazzled me. He also had a way of talking that bewitched me. He looked directly into my eyes and spoke, and he also seemed to be drinking in my entire form. I confess, dear reader, that I was smitten from that first conversation.
That autumn granted me many pleasant audiences with Mr. Wickham and the other officers. Isabella was partial to Mr. Chamberlayne. She told me that one day, they dressed him up as a woman. I could only think when she told me this that it must not have been difficult to deceive others, for I think his figure rather light and feminine anyway.
We had several evenings when we could dance. Mr. Bingley held a grand ball at his estate, Netherfield. I danced quite a bit at that ball, and I noticed that Elizabeth Bennet did not hold up her side of the pact; she danced with Mr. Darcy! Well, that gentleman left Hertfordshire shortly after that party, and Mr. Wickham told me some stories about him. They had grown up together, and Mr. Darcy had tormented him the entire time they had been at school together. Darcy continued to lie and cheat him. I say he deserved a good beating, or at least a public humiliation!
Another grand event of that autumn was my Aunt Minerva’s death. Now, I know I have not previously told you of Aunt Minerva, dear reader, and that is most unfair. But the truth is, until she died, she was not a big part of my life. I had spent several winters at her house in London, this is true. I made a pleasant companion to her, I believe, and she did seem to laugh more and attend more plays and parties while I was with her. I read to her often, as her eyesight failed her. But dear reader, I did not believe she possessed a great deal of money. Her simple ways, when compared with many Ton dwellers, caused me to think she received just enough to live on. So when we received news of her passing, I grieved for our loss briefly and did not think on the matter again until an attorney arrived at Penfold to read her will.
Imagine my mother’s shock, dear reader, when he told us that Mark and I were to inherit all her estate! He now has possession of her town house upon coming of age, and I inherited her bank account: ten thousand pounds! She knew I had a very small dowry, and wanted to see me able to marry for more consideration than fortune. Now, instead of searching for a wealthy man who would have me, I was now free to choose based on whom I deemed worthy.
I really did not know what to do with such wealth. At first I considered going on a spending spree, and then I wondered how much money I would need to purchase my own estate. But my father hired an attorney to look into investments for me, to yield the highest interest. I sincerely hoped to have the money protected in some way. I had read books about rakes and heels who sought young heiresses only to abscond with their money, but I supposed I would just have to be careful in whom I chose.
The young men of Meryton did begin to take notice of me. But there was only one man I wanted. Now that I could have my choice, I desired the dashing, handsome Mr. George Wickham! And I was to have my wish. When news of my good fortune circulated among the officers, Mr. Wickham paid me much more attention than he had previously. In retrospect, I must admit that his attentions were so obvious and abundant once he heard the news that I should have suspected he was only after my money. But, reader, I was blinded by the events that had just taken place. I believed myself a child of good fortune whose every dream was coming true. To a young girl, the sweet whispers and fervent presses of hands that lovers exchange always derive from pure emotions and motives.
To be sure, Mr. Wickham never proposed marriage to me. Not in the formal, proper way. He acted in a manner, however, that told me he wanted it. We walked unchaperoned through the countryside when the weather was fine. At Penfold, when my mother invited him to a family dinner, he brushed against me several times and, when no one was looking, kissed my neck and embraced me to him, rubbing my back. Oh! Reader, I was enraptured by all these attentions!
And then that fateful day came. It was Springtime, and the snow had all melted, heralding the emerging growth and life. My mother was making calls, my father and brother had chores and business around the estate. I was all alone in the house, then, and I did not feel like visiting my friends. It was the perfect morning to net a new purse and daydream about my future life as Mrs. Wickham.
I was not surprised when he entered the room. He stood in the doorway, his coat partially unbuttoned, his hair damp with sweat, and his eyes full of desire. “Miss King,” he began, “Mary…” he stumbled toward me. I threw aside my craft and met him halfway. We embraced and immediately began kissing each other with an urgency and passion I had never known before. I was swept up in the moment, and before I knew what was happening, he had picked me up and carried me behind the skreen. He unlaced the front part of my dress and began caressing my skin, all the while smothering me with sweet kisses.
The next thing I knew, I heard my father’s voice saying, “What the devil is going on here?” and George exclaiming a curse word. Suddenly my father was pulling me out of George’s arms and ordering him out of the house. I cried, begged, and pleaded, but George left anyway.
After several hours of seclusion in my bedchamber, my parents both came to talk to me. They said my actions had been very wicked, and I must be sent away. They told me that George Wickham was only after my money and they wanted to protect me and my reputation from him. I tried to protest, saying that George really loved me and wanted to marry me, but they pointed out that no respectable man would have seduced me in such a manner without first gaining consent from my parents, and even then should not touch me before we were married.
I began to fear that they were right. It was then that I saw how soon after my fortune had become known that he had attached himself to me. I succumbed to my parents’ wishes and prepared to live with an uncle in Liverpool.
In the months that have passed, I have begun to heal and forgive myself what happened. I recognize that my parents, though extreme, were right to send me away. I heard recently that Mr. Wickham, amidst gambling debts and broken promises, seduced and eloped with Lydia Bennet, the youngest daughter of that family. I guess I was lucky to have escaped the shame and humiliation that must bring to her family. For now, I will look for a man who will love me for me, and not just my ten thousand pounds. My one demand, though, is that he must also be able to send those delicious shivers down my spine.
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