A MARRIAGE OF REASON

EXCERPT #1

In 1800, plain and ordinary Mary Bennet did not see the man fall from his horse and land in the puddle before her, because her nose was in its usual location-buried in her latest novel of intrigue. She stepped on the man instead of in the puddle and plodded on.

     The middle sister of five daughters, Mary also did not see the men chasing an escaped goat through the streets of Meryton. However, just as she stopped to turn the page, the goat sprinted past in front of her-and it would have knocked her off her feet had she not paused.

     The only unmarried daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn House was no more aware of the two children darting about her feet chasing one another. She marched freely as they bolted in and out of her path-until a mother's beckoning howl sent them scurrying away.

     "Miss Bennet," a voice called out to no avail, for Mary strutted on without hearing it.

     "Miss Bennet," the voice sounded a second time, but Mary plodded on unaware of anything except the machinations foaming from her book.

     "Miss Mary Bennet." Without looking up, Mary collided with the originator of the voice. Backing up a step, she lowered her vicarious adventure and glared at the thin, young man three inches her inferior.

     "Mr. Ditherspoon," she said, wrinkling her facial skin into a sour expression. "Pray, you may wait one moment." Mr. Ditherspoon not only looked up to Mary in height, but also in age, for, at twenty, he was two years her junior; which did not do anything to hinder the flow of his affections for her. Mary returned to read another passage, as Mr. Ditherspoon waited. When Mary finished, she glowered at him. "What is it, Mr. Ditherspoon?"

     "Miss Bennet, if this is not the rarest of coincidences. Why, I was going this very minute to Longbourn to seek you out, and, God be praised, here I run into you ..."

     "Mr. Ditherspoon, you may explain yourself."

     "Oh, yes ... my mother's uncle, that is to say my granduncle ... or should I say ..."

     "You may be brief, Mr. Ditherspoon," Mary snapped, closing her book, removing her round spectacles, and glaring down at him.

     He fiddled with the buttons on his waistcoat. "Yes. I will be brief. My mother's uncle has invited my mother and I to a party. I begged my mother to write back and ask if I may escort a young lady ... he is a most generous man, my granduncle, and mother thinks that there would be some possibility ..." he gazed into Mary's halting eyes and removed himself from the path of his tangent. "I desire to write return his correspondence and ask if you could be my escort."

     Mary snorted and resumed strolling. Mr. Ditherspoon's shorter legs required him to jog in order to keep up with her brisk pace.

     "I would be glad to play the pianoforte for your granduncle," Mary said, as she opened the book, inserted her nose, and continued reading.

     "No, Miss Bennet. No, no. Not this time." He pulled on her arm to stop her. Mary whipped her book down by her side and glared at him as though he had just laid a hand on a delicate place.

     "I am sorry," Mr. Ditherspoon said. "It is just that ... that ... that ..."

     "You may come out and say it, Mr. Ditherspoon," Mary barked. "Really, Mr. Ditherspoon, you can be such a worm."

     "I am sorry, Miss Bennet. I do not mean to be offensive, for I have the greatest admiration for you and-"

     "Pray, what will be my function at the party if not to play and sing?"

     Mr. Ditherspoon looked upon the ground. "I would like you to be my escort."

     "Do you not consider my performing adequate?"

     Mr. Ditherspoon gulped. "Oh, Miss Bennet, I love your music. You play the pianoforte like … an angel."

     "Then it is my voice that offends."

     Waving his hands in the air, Mr. Ditherspoon continued. "I-I-I think you sing wonderfully … melodiously. Why, you have the voice of ... an angel."

     Mary cleared her throat. "I am glad you think me so ... angelic, but if I accompanied you to the party and did not play, pray, I would feel most out of sorts."

     "Miss Bennet, please forgive my boldness. I love and appreciate your talents, but because you perform to the extent that you do, the opportunity to dance with you is nearly nonexistent." Mr. Ditherspoon lowered his head, He raised it again batting his eyebrows. "You do dance, Miss Bennet?"

     "What an impertinent question," Mary snapped, stepping around him and striding away.

     Mr. Ditherspoon chased after her. "Miss Bennet, please forgive my unintended rudeness. I know I have not had the benefit of a father for most my life, but my mother, bless her heart in her attempt, she has done her best by me, and I do not mean to offend-"

     Mary stopped too fast for Mr. Ditherspoon to avoid slamming into her. However, he suffered in the collision the most, as his thin wiriness made for less a mass than hers. She twirled on him with such vigor that it forced Mr. Ditherspoon to shy away.

     "Oooooo," he whined, rubbing his nose.

     "Mr. Ditherspoon, you may write to your granduncle, and you may accompany me as my escort. Now, the matter is closed."

     Before Mr. Ditherspoon could answer, Mary whirled around and marched away nose-in-book again.

     "Oh, bless you, Miss Bennet," Mr. Ditherspoon called out. "Thank you, my little … angel."

EXCERPT #2

Weeks later at Mr. Ditherspoon's uncle's party, Mary strolled toward sister Elizabeth and her husband, Mr. Darcy. She gestured to her escort. "Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, I would like you to meet Mr. Ditherspoon."

     Elizabeth half-curtsied. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Ditherspoon."

     Mr. Ditherspoon smiled. "I am pleased as well to meet such a fine sister to Miss Bennet."

     "The pleasure is all ours, I assure you," Mr. Darcy remarked, bending into a half bow.

     Mary pointed across the ballroom. "And here comes my other elder sister, Jane."

     When Mr. and Mrs. Bingley reached them, Mary conducted the introductions.

     "So, Mary," Jane began, "are you to play for us?"

     "There is no need to," Mr. Ditherspoon interrupted. "My granduncle has hired professional musicians. Miss Bennet is free to dance."

     Mr. Darcy extended his arm to Mary. "Perhaps the first dance will be mine?"

     Mr. Bingley reached out also. "And I insist on the second."

     The music started and couples drifted onto the dance floor.

     "Why, thank you, brother-in-law," Mary said to Mr. Darcy as she snatched the arm he offered her. Seconds after lining up on the floor, the dancing commenced.

     Mary's sisters and Mr. Bingley turned to Mr. Ditherspoon. He stuttered and stammered for several seconds. "Please excuse me," he said, and then hurried to the refreshments.

     When Mary returned to her sisters, she glanced around. "And where, pray, is Mr. Ditherspoon?"

     Elizabeth and Jane pointed across the room. When Mary looked, she observed three men hovering around Mr. Ditherspoon; and all their postures told a most interesting story. The three men with hands on hips, bent low over Mr. Ditherspoon in the attitude of three fathers scolding a single son. The prostrate Mr. Ditherspoon made himself smaller than his already tiny stature with his back hunched forward and head down. It appeared at any moment that he would burst into tears.

     Mary mounted some determination and marched over to the foursome. She barged into the middle of them and glared at each of Mr. Ditherspoon's antagonists in turn.

     "And what, pray, are you doing to my escort?" she insisted.

     Mr. Rollins gathered in his air of superiority. "We were inquiring as to when Mr. Ditherspoon contemplates moving away from his mother."

     "Yes," Mr. Brinson agreed. "Do you not think that twenty is too great an age to remain behind a mother's skirts?"

     Mr. Ogden laughed. "Perhaps he still likes having his breechcloth changed."

     Mary approached the last gentleman to speak. "Mr. Ogden, perhaps you forgot all too quickly about your French parlor maid. As I recall, she left rather suddenly and nearly nine months later word came back that she was the not-so-proud mother of a daughter."

     She twirled to face another. "Mr. Rollins, you are the eldest and the least likely to bring into question the manhood of my escort. What is it I hear about your wife? She has just dropped her seventh child and seventh daughter all at the same drop. How virile a male who cannot produce an heir, would you not agree?"

     Mary spun to the last man. "Pray, and you, Mr. Brinson, of all people. I would have expected you to be the last person to find fault in a man for not being manly. Would that I make your little secret known, I dare say all the other men would resign their gender on the spot and join ranks with mine. How I grieve for poor Mrs. Brinson who lacks your affections because of your … unusual attraction. Do we not all have deficiencies? What say all of you to gathering up your stones and returning to your glass houses?"

     The men bowed their heads and slithered off as Mary grabbed Mr. Ditherspoon by the arm.

     "Roger, when will you learn to stand up for yourself? You have just as much right to exist as do they."

     "Miss Bennet, you have indeed become my champion. I know not why you have done this for me, but it is most appreciated; and it has served to draw me even closer to you. I must confess that I have had the strongest-"

     "You may hush now, Mr. Ditherspoon."

     "Oh please, Miss Bennet. I loved it just then when you called me Roger. The familiarity so warmed my heart."

     "A simple violation of etiquette protocol. Think nothing of my interference, for it is a most charitable thing to defend the weak, nothing more."

     Mr. Ditherspoon grabbed Mary's arm. "Please, Miss Bennet. May I bestow my affections on you just this once in gratitude towards your having spared me such embarrassment?"

     "I think not, Mr. Ditherspoon. None are in order."

     "But I believe there is. Please, allow me one of life's rare luxuries. It will so heal me from the previous experience."

     Mary glanced around to be sure that no eyes were cast in their direction and tapped her right cheek. "Very well. You may kiss me here."

     Mr. Ditherspoon reached up and kissed Mary on the cheek. When he bounced down again on his heels, he could not retain his feelings. "Oh, thank you so very much. Pray, Miss Bennet, you are the sunshine in my withered garden."

     "Come," Mary extended a hand to him. "The music is starting. You may dance with me this dance."

     "But ... Mr. Bingley?"

     "Posh. Mr. Bingley is my brother-in-law and he will forgive me. I must have you near to keep a watch out."

     They assumed positions on the floor as Mr. Darcy leaned toward his wife. "Look at that, Lizzy. I dare say your sister Mary has developed a wit even greater than yours. You see how she so thoroughly thrashed those three gentlemen with the sharpness of her tongue?"

     Elizabeth smiled up at him. "Pray, I am sure you wish my wit were less than hers, Mr. Darcy." They laughed.

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