Mary Bennet and the Longbourn Tutor

  Mary Bennet and the Longbourn Tutor

  Book Two in the Mary of Longbourn Series

  Carrie Mollenkopf

  Other titles by Carrie Mollenkopf

  The Sequels

  The Redemption of Caroline Bingley

  The Vocation of Mary Bennet

  The Soulmate of Kitty Bennet

  The Stubborn Pride of Lydia Bennet

  The Supernatural

  The Transformation of Georgiana Darcy

  Mary of Longbourn Series

  Mary Bennet and the Longbourn Heiress

  Mary Bennet and the Longbourn Tutor

  ~Prologue~

  Mary Bennet sat up in bed with the tattered journal in her hands. It seemed like forever since she had discovered it alongside the human remains in the cellars of Longbourn. So much had happened. In the end it was bittersweet. A tragic woman, but one who had provided much security for Mary in the present. Now, with her ancestor resting in the Bennet family cemetery and the entailment to Longbourn dissolved, there was much promise in the future. While Kitty wasted her days in search of the perfect mate her new substantial dowry would attract, Mary had no such plans. On the contrary, marriage was far from her mind despite the feelings she harbored for a certain local doctor. She had too much to do before any sort of domestic settling could be considered. For many, including her own elder sisters, marriage made them blissfully happy, but they had been fortunate and had married for love. Not everyone was so lucky. At one time, it had been a pressing concern for one of the Bennet girls to marry simply to keep a roof over all of their heads. Mary cringed at the memory. She too had considered marriage with Mr. Collins to prevent losing Longbourn, imagining herself in love with the dreary little man. Looking back, she felt rather foolish about her feelings, now realizing they were nothing near what love, or even affection should be. Happily, it had not come to pass. Now, with money no longer a factor, it was time for a bit of self-indulged improvement. But how to go about such a thing? Mary knew that her mother had tried her best, but what Mrs. Bennet considered accomplished, even by the standards acknowledged by society as a must for every young lady, were lacking. Oh, the Bennet sisters could embroider, and there had been lessons on the pianoforte. Lizzie and Jane were also known to possess pleasing voices, but that was all. They had never learned the classics, or studied much of anything beyond how to run a household, and that was only how to manage servants. Mary had always wanted to prove her worth, but somehow, she had always come up short. Now, with money at her disposal, she would rectify that deficit. However, she wanted a real education, one that great women such as Elizabeth I had possessed. To learn languages, mathematics and sciences! Now that would be an education worthy of study. Only one small problem remained. Mary was long past the age of most school girls. At the most eligible age of nineteen, most people considered her only for the marriage market, not schooling. She could hardly attend the local day school in Meryton, or hire a governess who may be her own age. As it was, many of the surrounding families already thought her a bit eccentric. A private tutor was the only rational solution. While Dr. Sutton had offered to take on the job, it somehow did not feel right to Mary. She knew his qualifications were excellent, and she liked his company, but it also made her uncomfortable. As her friend… no, to be honest, he was more than just her friend… Mary feared her feelings, mixed-up as they were, would become all too apparent. Now was not the time for any sort of romantic affection that could interfere with her plans.

  Frowning with frustration, but fueled by determination, Mary placed the old journal carefully in a drawer next to her bed and withdrew her own diary. The plain cloth bound book was actually a ledger, similar to those used by estate managers. Here, Mary did not record her innermost thoughts, instead, it held daily lists of various chores to be accomplished. The entry for the following morning was already of considerable length, but there was room for one more. Taking up a pencil, she carefully added to the agenda. The words “place advertisement for tutor” were written boldly at the bottom in large block letters.

  ~ONE~

  Spring, 1817, Longbourn Estate.

  “Out! Find your way out and don’t ever set foot on this estate again!” Mary shouted as she threw a brass bust of Beethoven at the head of her most recent tutor. Ducking to avoid the possibility of injury, the pale, balding man scurried for the door as the object found its mark just inches from his head. This was the third one in just as many months. After receiving a number of replies to her advertisement, most of the gentlemen had refused her offer once they discovered that she was the pupil. They could not allow themselves to tutor a woman. For one, it was an embarrassment to his imagined and self-inflated status, for the others, it was a belief that women simply were not capable of thinking in a scientific way.

  “My dear Miss Bennet… perhaps you do not realize the absurdity of what you are asking,” a particularly whey faced crow of a man had dared to voice during his interview. How dare they? Her money was just as good as anyone’s and as for her brain…well that was considerably better.

  Mary fumed as she paced the parlor after the dismissal of her latest employee, randomly picking up various objects and returning them to their places as she pondered her next move. Elias Jones had lasted longer than most, nearly two months. While Mary had to admit to herself, she had learned a great deal from him, but it was mostly the fact that her education was in a worse state than imagined. Despite this acknowledgement, or perhaps because of it, she was willing to tolerate his arrogant display of superiority and patronizing comments in order to rectify her deficit. While she had planned on finding a replacement, Mary had hoped that there would be at least a few weeks before it was necessary. Unfortunately, his behavior had not been worth the strain on her reserve, and this morning had been the last straw. The slimy little man had dared to attempt to kiss her. When she had pushed him away in surprise, he had perceived it as encouragement and attempted to press her further, resulting in an appropriately placed elbow to his midsection and objects of art being used as weapons. It was simply too much to bear. Even now the memory of his inappropriate nearness made her flesh crawl. She would have to make do with extensive reading until another, more suitable candidate could be found, but from past experience it was not going to be easy.

  Mary had even gone so far as to place another advertisement, carefully disguising her gender as M. Bennet. Unfortunately, it had met with the same results. It did not seem to matter that she was now an heiress to some ten thousand pounds and a respectable estate. Nor did it matter about her connections to Pemberley and Netherfield. No one wanted to teach a woman anything beyond stitchery and music. While she did love music, Mary had long come to the realization that she possessed no talent despite hours of practice on Longbourn’s antiquated pianoforte. Her requirements were simple: Mathematics, Science and Astronomy, and classical languages. It was not too much to ask, and her salary was quite generous. Not wanting to interfere, her father had simply been sympathetic, only reminding her once, that another, most agreeable man had eagerly offered to do the job. One that Mary had refused.

  Grumbling, she drank the last of her tea in one gulp and prepared to write another posting. This time she may need to go as far as London. Halfway through the missive, Mrs. Hill announced a visitor. Hoping it to be her friend Dr. Atlas Sutton, new physician at Meryton, Mary smoothed her hair and dress self-consciously. For some unfathomable reason, she wanted to appear her best when he came to call, but it was not he. Standing in the doorway behind Hill was a stranger… a very handsome stranger.

  Raising an eyebrow at the hole in the plastered wall of Longbourn’s parlor, proof of the altercation with the
late Mr. Jones, the longtime housekeeper simply sighed and kept her own consul as she introduced the newcomer.

  “Mr. Grayson Everfield, Miss Mary. He calls in regards to the post of tutor.”

  Bowing in her direction, Mary noted the full head of slightly curling raven black hair and tall, well-built stature that seemed at odds with a rather ill-fitting suit that was some years out of style.

  Taken by surprise at the drastic contrast the stranger presented in comparison to his predecessors, Mary stammered a reply.

  “Yes… yes, of course, welcome to Longbourn. I am Mary Bennet, your student.”

  Recovering rapidly, Mary rose and strode the short distance to the room’s entry and boldly offered her ungloved hand. She wanted no misunderstanding as to who was the employer in the situation

  Meeting her eyes, Grayson Everfield took the proffered limb, greeting her as he would a man. Resisting the urge to wink at her forward behavior, he offered a simple greeting.

  “Miss Bennet… my apologies for arriving unannounced, but my travel was somewhat delayed by unforeseen complications. I hope you have not yet filled the position?”

  “Ah… no… rather, a final decision has yet to be settled upon,” Mary lied smoothly. She hoped the newcomer had not encountered Mr. Jones as he exited the estate.

  “If I may… I should like to express my qualifications for your consideration…”

  “But of course… do make yourself comfortable. Might I offer some tea?” Mary said as she gestured to a chair opposite the one she had recently vacated.

  Grayson Everfield smiled and took the proffered seat as Mary rung the bell. “That is most gracious of you… I must admit to some fatigue after my journey.”

  Mary gave her request to Mrs. Hill and the housekeeper left the room, muttering to herself in displeasure. Resolving to speak to the servant later, Mary returned to her guest. It was indeed rare for a man to admit any sort of weakness, even if it was simple travel weariness. The most she could do was offer refreshment as his timing was so opportune. However, Mary did not miss the look of disapproval from the woman who had cared for her family for years. What could Mrs. Hill find fault in a stranger? The housekeeper had actually liked wormy Elias Jones, always bringing him treats and fussing over his manners… perhaps it was time for the elderly woman to retire? Resolving to question the servant later, Mary turned her attentions on her perspective employee. If nothing else, the man was considerably more favorable to the eye than all the others.

  ~Two~

  Grayson Everfield tried to maintain a sense of calm as he walked the nearly two miles back to Meryton. His plan had gone far better than he had anticipated. It had been so easy to convince that plain little thing of his sincerity and qualifications as a tutor. Not once did she suspect any form of duplicity as she read his references and studied the graduation certificate from Oxford. For all intents and purposes, he was the perfect example of an impoverished younger son forced to make his living. Fortunately, his own mother had been a governess before her disgrace and had imparted as much of her own education upon him before she died. He possessed a tolerable working knowledge of French and classical literature, but that was all. Hopefully, it would be enough and his ruse would hold long enough for him to repair his reduced finances and be forgotten by those who sought to find him. Meryton was the perfect place to hide. The hardest part was getting used to being called by another name. Who would give their child such a silly name like Grayson? He much preferred his own, but for the time being, it would have to do.

  Forcing his personal distresses aside, he pondered the meeting. Longbourn was a rather small estate, but well respected. The grounds and house had shown recent repairs, smelling of raw wood and fresh paint, so he surmised that money was not of a dire concern, a reassurance to his plans. As for Mary Bennet, well she was an odd one. Who ever heard of a gentleman’s daughter wanting to study like a man? He had heard of women who were not the marrying kind and held no affection for men, but Miss Bennet had not struck him so. Instead, he was puzzled by her completely. Mary Bennet was a tiny mouse of a creature, dressed from head to toe in the plainest of grey woolens, with only the smallest hint of lace. She was hardly what one would expect to hold interviews for anything, let alone a tutor. One would have thought that she was a servant herself. Why had her father not been present? From what he had learned about the family, Mr. Bennet was indeed alive and well. This was a strange indulgence, but perhaps a benefit. Grayson did not want to draw any extra attention should someone recognize him. It would ruin everything.

  Distracted, he did not pay any attention to his surroundings until the small curricle had drawn up beside him.

  “Hello there! Need a ride into town?” called a ginger haired man from the driver’s seat.

  Not accustomed to walking such distances in the attire of a gentleman, Grayson’s feet were already blistered from the trek to Longbourn. While he had not wanted to make his presence overtly known, prudence forced him to nod in agreement.

  “I would be most appreciative,” he replied and took the vacant seat.

  “Atlas Sutton. At your service.” Answered the driver and proffered his hand.

  Grayson shook it firmly. “Grayson Everfield, in your debt.”

  “Nonsense, it is a bit of a way to Meryton. I trust that is where you are headed?”

  “Yes, the Dancing Duck Inn.”

  “The best lodgings Meryton has to offer… and the only lodgings, but they do set a fine table,” replied Atlas Sutton with a chuckle.

  Grayson only nodded with a wry smile. While he had hoped to be given a room at Longbourn, none were offered as terms of employment. Mary Bennet did not seem the type of person to permit strange men living in her home, despite her parents being in residence. He would be forced to make the two mile walk each way daily. His feet already pained him considerably, and the tight fit of his too small suit chaffed most unpleasantly, but he did not want to give away his discomfort to a stranger.

  “I trust the Bennets are well?” continued Atlas as he studied the stranger out of the corner of his eye. It was not every day that he found what was trying to pass for a gentleman walking alone down the road. His physician’s observant eye had noticed the man limping before he stopped and upon closer examination, something did not seem quite right, but he would refrain from judging a new acquaintance. Perhaps the man had fallen on hard times. As a doctor, Atlas knew all too well how many people did their best to feign a level of respectability in the face of poverty. Many would forgo proper food and medicine in order to maintain what they considered their place in society.

  “Ah… yes. I suppose they are. How did you know where I came from?” Greyson queried with a touch of apprehension.

  “This road only leads to two places, Longbourn and Lucas Lodge. As I have just departed the one, you must have come from the other?

  Greyson forced himself to relax. Of course the local population would know the surroundings well. It was foolish of him to be suspicious of everyone. He would have to get accustomed to country ways if he were to fit in. Deciding it was best to ingratiate himself, he explained his presence.

  “I have just taken a post as tutor to Miss Bennet.”

  “I see… Hmm… I wonder what happened to the last fellow.” Atlas said.

  “I… I don’t know, but I did see a person hastily leaving the house just as I arrived. Perhaps that was he?” Grayson asked curiously.

  “Well if I know Mary… he probably did something stupid.”

  “Oh… well, then I shall endeavor not to.”

  “Good luck!” Atlas replied as the curricle stopped in front of the Dancing Duck and his passenger alighted. This new tutor was going to need all the luck in the world if he was going to endear himself to Mary Bennet. Despite the man’s obvious handsome appearance, Atlas knew that Mary was not one to be swayed by physical appearances. If anything, it would set her on her guard. Self-consciously running a hand through his unfashionably short hair and smooth
chin. Atlas was not a person who attracted the attention of the ladies, but nor was he ugly, or at least he hoped not. All too recently had charming ways and a handsome face nearly resulted in scandal for the Bennet family. Mary was not one to fall for such things… or at least he believed so. However, Atlas could not quite quell the pang of jealousy that pricked at his heart. His feelings for Mary had only grown in recent months and Grayson Everfield was far too handsome and confident to be just a tutor.

  Grayson Everfield was all too happy to be free of what he had felt to be scrutiny. He sank down wearily on the bright patchwork quilt that covered the lumpy mattress of his rented room. Peering about at the whitewashed plaster walls and single window, he felt imprisoned. A strange sort of charming prison cell, and one of his own choice, but a prison nonetheless. While he had hoped to go unnoticed during his stay, he now realized that Meryton, despite its remoteness from London, was too small for anyone to hide completely. He would have to go out in public and become known. Perhaps this was a good thing. Should any trouble come calling, no one would believe that the respectable tutor of Longbourn had anything to conceal. Smiling to himself, he rubbed his feet and planned his first lessons for Miss Mary Bennet.

  ~Three~

  Mary was quite pleased with herself as she changed her dress for dinner that same evening. It really was wonderful to have found a replacement so soon. With no one to hold competent conversation, she feared that any of her newfound knowledge would be wasted. Of course there was Atlas, but she had not wanted to appear to be showing off. Besides, Mary knew he was still feeling a bit hurt by her refusal to allow him to be her teacher. Well, hopefully he would understand her logic for wanting a stranger. As it was, he had been so busy lately with the ailments of Meryton and the surrounding area, there had been little time for them to socialize. She could hardly accompany him on his medical rounds, but she did miss his companionship. Twirling the fine wisps of hair that escaped her upswept locks, she attempted to coax the wayward mess into some semblance of acceptability. Never before had she fussed so much with her appearance, but for some unexplainable reason, she now wanted to appear reasonably attractive. To contemplate being pretty was out of the question and just plain vain. That was something to which she would not indulge, but there was nothing wrong with being tidy. Pleased that her mother had thought to ask Atlas to dinner this evening, along with Jane and her husband Charles Bingley. Now comfortably settled at Netherfield after their wedding tour, it would prove to be an enjoyable occasion.