Changeling Child - Part 11

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

In all honesty, Mary preferred card parties to balls.

One socialised in smaller groups, and if one migrated between those groups carefully, it was possible to go the entire evening without interacting with more than a dozen people.

There were rather more officers present than Mary might have liked, an abundance of strangers that left her on edge. Diarmait’s presence was soothing, but he was gathering information, and could not spend every moment by her side. Jane was busy helping Lizzy evade Mr Collins - who either had failed to notice that Mr Darcy was already courting her, or laboured under the illusion that he was somehow the better option - and their younger sisters were occupied having Uncle Phillips introduce them to every Officer willing to stand still long enough.

At least the majority of Officers were also Gentlemen, albeit younger sons of the gentry. The army might have a reputation for coarse language, but Mary had witnessed no sign that they had forgotten how to behave around young ladies. The question of whether Lydia had ever known how to behave around a handsome officer was one that Mary consistently debated, but that was a matter for her parents to solve, not her.

Mary had just managed to seclude herself in a quiet corner, relishing the solitude and relative quiet, when she was interrupted. "Good evening, Miss Mary."

The interruption alone would have been grounds for some measure of ire, but the speaker was Wickham, which put Mary even more on edge. "Good evening... Mr Wickham, I believe it was?"

Mary had no recourse to send him away directly without being unacceptably rude, and perhaps she could use the opportunity to gather information. Mary had noted that men tended to be guarded around their fellows, but loose-lipped around an impressionable young woman. Mr Wickham smiled in what he no doubt thought to be a charming manner, "Lieutenant Wickham, now, but you may address me as you like."

That was extremely forward of him, and while some ladies might have found it delightfully flirtatious, Mary did not. "Mr Wickham, then. How are you enjoying the evening?"

That was one of Mary's preferred tactics for conversing with strangers; open questions that allowed them to do most of the talking. Mr Wickham was no exception. "I find the party delightful, and all the moreso for your company."

Mary did not consider herself unattractive, but among five pretty sisters, one must inevitably be the plainest, and Wickham did not know her nearly well enough to be attracted to her personality. “Thank you for the compliment.”

Normally, Mary would try to extract herself before the silence became awkward, but this time she allowed it to draw out. If Wickham was targeting her, as he had others, then he would press forward soon enough. Indeed, the man shifted, verging on unease. “I hear that your father’s heir is visiting you. Your sisters do not seem to like him.”

That fact was obvious to everyone except Mr Collins, so Mary did not bother asking which sister had been so obvious. Lydia was the most likely culprit, but it was difficult to miss Lizzy’s increasingly desperate attempts to evade him. “He is. I cannot say that I like entails, though I see the reasoning behind their existence in some cases.”

Entails ensured that the estate could not be broken up or sold off, or seized to discharge a debt, if the heir was incompetent or a gambler. It ensured the continuation of the family name, if the current master had only daughters, either by defaulting to heirs male, or by requiring a husband to adopt his wife’s name. Mary had long theorised that the latter was why Mr Collins was a Collins, rather than a Bennet.

"It is a shame that accidents of birth so often trump merit in the world." Wickham smiled charmingly, in a manner that suggested he agreed and understood her opinion, and invited Mary to question why he would support such a controversial statement. To someone who was unskilled in social situations and used to having their opinions disregarded, as most Changelings were, it would be a very effective tactic.

Mary did not take him up on the implied offer, instead looking around the room. Kitty was talking with a... Major, if Mary was reading the insignia correctly, and Lydia was at the center of a cluster of other officers. Well, Mama would have something to talk about for several days. Aunt Phillips and Charlotte had Mr Collins well occupied, which Elizabeth must be most relieved about.

Wickham cleared his throat, not dissuaded by an inattentive audience. "Your older sisters are being courted, I believe?"

Mary nodded in acknowledgement. She didn't know if the gentlemen had officially spoken to Papa, who had made himself as unavailable as possible to avoid Mr Collins, but their marked attentions could be taken as nothing less. Wickham's face contorted into an expression of exaggerated dubiousness, "Well, then I wish your second sister the greatest of luck, for Darcy is not known for paying attention to women. I suppose being Master of a great estate makes up for many things, even if the estate was never meant to be his. Just as Longbourn should never have been entailed upon your cousin."

What Wickham implied, beyond the ludicrous notion of displacing a legal heir on hearsay, Mary had no idea. Still, Mary began to see the shape of what Diarmait had begun to tell her. Wickham found Changelings who were easily charmed, convinced them that they deserved more, or that they should support him in his wild claims, and stood back to watch the result.

Mary supposed that it was comparable to fireworks, the too-loud, too-bright explosions that Mary had once witnessed in London, fascinating from a distance but dreadful up-close. If Wickham convinced some poor Changeling to make a claim on a Border Estate, it was easy to imagine the current Lord or Lady taking offence and punishing the Changeling. If the Fae and the Changeling belonged to different Courts, it was even easier to envision a diplomatic strain springing up between those two Courts.

No wonder Diarmait had been so busy of late.

Realising she had been silent too long, Mary made another attempt at redirection, "I suppose many would overlook a great deal, in order to be happily settled in marriage."

Wickham laughed, again with an excessive amount of charm. "Ah, one such as I is hampered when it comes to marriage, unless my bride has an income."

That was extremely forward for a first meeting, though Wickham could likely explain it away as being honest if anyone called him on it. Mary took great care to miss his point, "Yes, I suppose that a militia officer would need to be at least a Captain to afford a wife, and have some savings besides."

There was a reason that even Mama, as delighted with Officers as Kitty and Lydia were, specified that she would be happy for her daughters to marry a Colonel with five or six thousand to his name.

Wickham looked over Mary's shoulder, fear darting across his face almost too quickly to be seen. She followed his gaze, and smiled to see Diarmait striding in their direction. "Ah, yes, Mr Cathal. Would you like me to introduce you?"

Mary very much doubted that Wickham would accept, and indeed, he stammered an excuse and departed as hastily as possible. Mary did not repine his absence as Diarmait handed her a glass, and she looked down at it with trepidation. Aunt Phillips insisted on serving the same punch as the Prince Regent preferred, an affront to Mary's tastebuds that was both too sweet, and contained far more alcohol than any sensible person should imbibe in a single sitting.

Diarmait noticed her hesitation and smiled warmly, an expression far preferred than Wickham's integrating smirks. "It only looks like your aunt's punch. I transmuted it into the spiced cider you enjoyed the last time we danced."

Was it wrong that Mary's heart melted at such quiet consideration? She took the glass gladly, "I hadn't realised that you noticed my distaste for spirits."

He tapped the rim of his glass gently against hers, "Aversions to certain tastes and textures are not uncommon, and I am always aware of you, my melody."

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