Posted on Saturday, 17 June 2006

Mary debated, narrowing her eyes. Collins or piano. Attentions split as they were she sat down and stared unhappily at the people crowded into the small room.

At her side, another person sat frowning with a crease in his brow. His eyes shifted to the woman across the room again and again, towards the one who spoke with too much gaiety to Mr. Wickham. Resentment and bitterness encroached upon his careful nature.

To his left sat another frowning creature. Small and fair, elegant in form and manner, Miss Jane Fairfax watched enviously as her fiancée flirted with Miss Woodhouse and the youngest Miss Bennets. She was as mad as a proper young lady could be, seething inside.

Together in uncanny unison they sighed. Startled, they looked at each other. Mr. Darcy asked, "Unhappy, ladies?" Both nodded and sighed again.

"Nobody seems to care about us." stated Jane with a glance towards her rival, looking just in time to see Frank kiss her hand again. If he did that one more time during the night, she would lose her supper.

After a few wistful moments of silence, Darcy slapped his hands upon his thighs, startling them. "Girls, I have just the thing!"

They huddled eagerly, conferring and plotting. For several minutes they bent, determining their course of action. It wouldn't be hard. After all what had they to lose, other than their dignity? Each nodded and pledged their part.

Mary stood and cantered over to Lizzy and her nauseously attentive companion and proclaimed, "Come Lizzy, Mr. Wickham, let us start up a dance. I want to play Grimstock."

The surprised couple stared at her, but readily agreed and led the way as the leading couple. The others complied. Frank and Emma, Mr. Collins and Jane (the former feeling rather pleased at having taken her up, knowing it a perfect chance to increase her affections), Mr. Bingley took up Kitty, and Lydia got Mr. Darcy, much to her utter dismay. The only two outsiders left were Mr. Woodhouse and Mrs. Bennet, who were content to discuss the benefits of carrot juice.

"Ah, Mr. Woodhouse, you see my youngest daughter there, Lydia with the tall gentleman. Did you know he has ten thousand a year?" Her eyes glistened gleefully in the candlelight.

"You don't say?"

"Why, yes!" she shrilled. "Now that will be a great marriage! Don't they make the handsomest couple?"

"Yes, I suppose so. It will be a most advantageous marriage as long as they abstain from serving cake at the wedding. I've observed that the cake-serving ones are more likely to falter."

Mary played a rousing intro and struck the first measures out in perfect tempo. The dancers began a brisk dance, one which required the alteration of partners. On one change, Mr. Bingley brushed hands with Miss Bennet and let out a moan. This incited a look of alarm on her face, but Mr. Collins claimed her again.

Mr. Darcy, who could hardly bare Lydia's chatter about Gretna Green any longer, gave Mary the signal. She gradually sped up the tempo. As the music increased pace, so did the dancers. Soon they were flying about in a wild manner, hardly noticing whether they had their original partners or not.

Mr. Darcy grasped Elizabeth around the waist and spun her out of Wickham's grasp. Her eyes were closed, for she felt the room spin around her at a dangerous speed. She continued to dance in spite of the confusion.

Somehow Jane Fairfax slipped into Frank's arms and socked Emma in the eye, on "accident". Soon after, the unsuspecting Frank received a searing pinch on his forearm. He stopped mid-twirl and stared at her, shocked. She dragged him out of the room to have a lover's quarrel. Poor Emma sat down, crying and holding her slightly blackened eye. A latecomer entered the room and came toward the sounds of her wails hastily. Mr. Knightley pulled her hands away to examine the injury and soon soothed her tears in a comforting embrace.

As for the remaining dancers, Mary's tune kept them twirling about. Somehow Wickham noticed his partner missing, but found Lydia willingly replace her sister. Feeling very much pleased with herself she took full advantage to say, "Mr. Wickham, you are the most dashing man in the regiment!" They stopped dancing and exited the room, passed the catfight between Frank and Jane and borrowed Mr. Bingley's carriage, setting off for an elopement.

Mr. Bingley, seeing Darcy at work, thought it an excellent idea. He promptly tripped Mr. Collins, sending the clergyman sprawling towards the pianoforte. Mr. Collins blinked for a minute and looked up from his bent-over position. His vision allowed the gleaming wood of the instrument and then Mary's engaging smile. Mary stopped her playing to inquire if he was alright. They sat on the divan while she sewed a rip in his sleeve cuff.

Mr. Bingley and Jane continued to dance, though they slowed to a waltz. Completely oblivious to the antics and chaos around them, they stared deeply in each others eyes.

Mary was very content in her position and almost forgot to help Mr. Darcy as they had planned. She got up with the excuse to stoke the fire. She grasped the poker and "accidentally" hauled it over her shoulder where it presently hit dear Fitzwilliam square on the side of his head.

Good thing she remembered, for Elizabeth had opened her eyes and noticed just who was dancing with. She was about ready to wrest his hands off of her, when he fell with a great anguishing cry and thud. Perplexed but also worried that he was seriously injured, Lizzy knelt at his side and fretted over the lump that was forming. She knew something of doctoring so she walked him to the kitchen to request some ice to bring down the swelling. She also gave him a bit of soothing herbal tea, for she thought him demented by the blow. He kept crying out ardent sentiments, about how he loved her passionately.

Mrs. Bennet cried out just how much this was unsettling her nerves and Mr. Woodhouse looked about ready to have a seizure. Seeing Bingley and Jane in such an enamored fashion quieted her though. She started to weep happily and chattered on about what a happy couple they were to be, even if Mr. Collins had magnificent shelves in all his closets.

And this, my friends, is a faithful narrative of an unusual turn of events.

The End