Detective Mary

Chapter 12

"If you ask me, Jane Bennet is still worth associating with," spoke Miss Bingley, "but her sisters are of little value to associate with, especially that Miss Mary Bennet."

Mr. Darcy raised his eyebrows slightly at this less than approving remark, but did not express any affirmative or negative gesture.

He remained in that unmoving manner, "Miss Mary Bennet was specifically named, so it seems she has really upset you."

Seeing Darcy's cold response, Miss Bingley's temper weakened a little, but still held her own.

"I admit that she helped us solve the case, no doubt," she explained, "but to trespass on someone's home without consent is just too much of a liberty. Besides what does the theft have to do with her? To be so concerned is either something else or pretentious."

"I rather think that Miss Bennet is not a pretentious person."

Darcy retorted calmly, "She is not false in her licentious behavior, but she has some real talent. Pretentious people tend to think of making a splash in social situations, whereas Miss Mary Bennet shies away from socializing."

"Suffice it to say that she really doesn't look on the sidelines."

"So, I don't like to be involved in the middle of a ball either; do you think I'm pretentious too?"

"......"

Miss Bingley choked hard on Darcy's rhetorical question.

In saying this, Darcy felt a little sympathy for Mary Bennet - country life was monotonous, and the conversation of ordinary ladies was monotonous and uninteresting, and they could not avoid them, so how could they be in the mood for etiquette?

It seems that Elizabeth Bennet's sister, in fact, is not so excessive.

"But before you said that the Bennet daughters, except for Missy, were worthless," Miss Bingley was exasperated, but she forced herself to put on an air of indifference, "it seems that nowadays you have indeed changed your mind."

Darcy: "That's natural."

Ms. Bentley: "............"

That's a pretty frank admission!

Completely unprepared for Darcy's direct and positive response to her banter, Miss Bingley froze as Mr. Darcy continued.

He looked serious, very different from the way he had looked the first time he had been pontificating about the Bennet ladies, "I did say that it was true, but my words were not all true. It was Miss Mary Bennet's words that made me realize the mistake I had made - that I, like her, had disregarded social etiquette, and that I was enjoying myself without realizing that I was hurting other people's self-esteem. If she had been really pretentious, how could she have warned me?"

Elizabeth, standing at a distance, froze slightly.

In Elizabeth's mind, Fitzwilliam Darcy's behavior had been so bad that she had labeled Mr. Darcy with almost every word she knew about the word "uncaring."

But now the haughty Mr. Darcy spoke with sincerity and firmness, and with genuine reflection, not with idle argument.

This was completely unexpected by Elizabeth.

As for Mary, she was on the verge of tears at the words - she didn't know exactly what Mr. Darcy had said when he danced with Elizabeth, but it certainly wasn't what had just been said, or else how could Elizabeth have become angrier.

Thank goodness, it was true that official matches were powerful.

"You see," Mary was immensely relieved as she lowered her voice and spoke, "I told you Mr. Darcy wasn't as nasty as you thought, it's not that I like him, I just thought the misunderstanding between you two was so unnecessary."

Elizabeth hummed softly.

Seeing the smug little look on Mary's brow, she couldn't believe this sister's sophistry.

Even if Mary really did not like Darcy, she had at least "something in mind". Otherwise, according to Mary's character, she would not care who Elizabeth hated.

However, Elizabeth is not an unreasonable person.

His previous impression of Mr. Darcy had been so bad that his words had had some effect. After all, arrogant and rude people do not reflect on themselves.

"Daring to admit a mistake one has made," Elizabeth said with immense reluctance, "is rare indeed."

"Right!"

"But ......"

Elizabeth, who wasn't stupid, raised an eyebrow, "You were the one who spoke up to remind him, what's the point of being so enthusiastic?"

Mary just laughed.

What a first step in a long journey! Mary breathed a long sigh of relief, she had been worried for a long time that she had messed things up for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.

Having learned a lesson from the past, Mary neither answered nor continued to pester, for fear that she would give Elizabeth another misunderstanding if she got carried away. She intimately took Elizabeth's arm and deliberately raised her voice: "Will Jane be all right, I've been frightened all night!"

Hearing her voice, Miss Bingley was startled.

She turned around in a panic, and saw Mary approaching in the same pose she had just arrived in.

"Elizabeth and I have come to see Jane," Mary spoke directly, "she came with a handwritten letter saying she had caught the windchill, how is she doing?"

Miss Bingley was uncomfortable; she looked like she would like to ask Mary what she had heard, but it was hard to see her face full of unconcern.

After squirming for half a day, Miss Bentley finally just spat out, "Well, I'll ask my servant to take you there."

Before moving off, Mr. Darcy took a slight step forward in time to stop Mary.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy spoke sincerely when he saw that Elizabeth had stepped through the manor gates, "I am grateful for your reminder that day."

"......"

Don't mention the pot calling the kettle black. Mary can't help but laugh and cry. You don't know you're on the verge of losing your wife!

However, it is good for Elizabeth to know that Darcy is not of a bad nature, and Mary is relieved. As for Miss Bingley to say their own bad words ...... although she does not know where he got into her eyes, but Mary actually do not care too much.

Just say it, can still fall a piece of meat not.

Especially when she saw the pale-faced Jane, Mary was in no mood to dwell on what people were saying about her.

Jane was still running a high fever, and she looked listless as she lay in bed. The servants at Netherfield Manor said that she had begun to run a fever before dawn, and in the twenty-first century, a high fever was still a condition that required immediate medication, let alone in the Victorian era.

"Do we need a doctor?" Elizabeth asked with immense concern.

"It's just a wind-chill, nothing serious," Jane declined breathlessly, fearful of troubling Mr. Bingley, "I'll be mostly better when you come to see me."

"It's not as if Lizzie and I were a panacea." Mary retorted.

Still, it was evident that Jane was happy that her two sisters had come all the way here because she was sick. She spoke with Mary and Elizabeth and was in better spirits.

Taking advantage of this, Elizabeth ordered the kitchen to bring some hot soup, and Mary asked the cook to put in more ginger. Jane barely drank a little, and Mary couldn't stop helping her wipe the sweat from the hot soup.

When Jane finished the ginger soup, the servant who came to fetch the dishes suddenly spoke, "Miss Mary, Mr. Holmes asks you to go to Mr. Bingley's study."

Elizabeth was a little surprised, "Mr. Holmes?"

Is the detective here!

Mary looked shocked, and as she was just subconsciously about to say yes, she inadvertently glanced at Jane's pale face and calmed down.

The case was important, but with Sherlock Holmes, what mystery could not be solved? As far as Mary was concerned, she had come to Netherfield Manor to look after Jane.

"I have to look after my sister," she says, "and tell Mr. Holmes that I am not going over."

When the servant left, Elizabeth asked, "Who is Mr. Holmes?"

Mary: "The detective from London."

Elizabeth: "Then why did he-"

The servant with the cutlery returns suddenly.

Her face was full of embarrassment as she stood in the doorway, "Miss Mary, you'd better go!"

"Didn't I say ......"

The latter words ended abruptly at the sight of the thin man behind the maid.

Mary's eyes widen: Sherlock Holmes, to have found his way straight to Jane's bedroom?

Even if he was just standing in the doorway, in Victorian times that would have been enough to be considered trying to break into a lady's room.

Elizabeth stood up almost immediately at the sight of the man's figure, and she glared at the visitor as if she were guarding a chicken coop, "This is the lady's room!"

Mary: "Mr. Holmes?"

Elizabeth is even more shocked, "That's the detective?"

Sherlock Holmes, on the other hand, pressed on without casting a glance at the hospital bed.

The lean detective traveled in a hurry, with a touch of gravity between his brows.

It wasn't until Mary and Elizabeth came hurrying down the hallway that he spoke, "Excuse me, Miss Mary,"

But Mr. Holmes showed no guilt, apparently there were more important things than manners in his mind, "If you don't mind, please follow me."

"About the case?"

Mary quickly followed the thought, but ......

she glanced around the room with some difficulty.

Having just realized the error of her ways, that she couldn't neglect her real loved ones for something she loved, she was now going to leave Jane behind? That was just a bit much.

"But I have to take care of my sister," Mary hesitated, "is there a new clue?"

"It's what you've been asking me about."

"......"

Damn!

Mary's curiosity was immediately piqued.

Mr. Holmes saw that she was in a dilemma, and only then did he turn his attention to Elizabeth, and with a quick nod he said, "Can you take care of your sister, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth frowned at that, "Of course, are you questioning my feelings for Jane?"

Holmes: "That's fine."

He takes a step back, with a look that says, "Why aren't you moving?", "I don't think Miss Jane Bennet needs two people to look after her either, so follow me."

Mary: "......"

That's pretty perfunctory of you!

She was simply amused by this behavior of Mr. Holmes.

Fortunately, Jane was kind, and although she didn't know Sherlock Holmes as a person, she knew that he was a detective hired by Mr. Bentley, and a person trusted by Mr. Bentley. When she heard him mention the word case through the door of the room, she coughed softly and stood up for the detective instead, "Since your help is needed, you go ahead, Mary. Lizzie takes care of me enough."

Mary heard this as if she had been pardoned.

She shook Jane's hand and barked a few words of advice before she let go of her unease and picked up her skirt and followed Mr. Holmes out of the room.

"The thing I asked you after," Mary spoke, "was it that contract?"

"Naturally."

"Now you can always tell me what kind of contract it is," said Mary; "I suppose, as Mr. Bentley moved from the North, which has a great deal of industry, it would be a factory contract."

"Yes."

Holmes stopped at the door of Mr. Bentley's study, and he politely opened it for Mary.

"Not only that, but an unsigned contract."

"Eh?"

Mary blinked in bewilderment.

Stealing an unsigned contract? That was even stranger; without a signature, the contract didn't even have legal effect, so what was the point of stealing it?