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28

The Americans

Mr. Calvin
Beam’s sun-bleached hair and ruddy complexion portrayed a young man accustomed
to a life lived much out of doors, and, despite Mrs. Bennet’s disparagement of
his origins, he also possessed every mark of a well-bred, civilized gentleman.
Under normal circumstances, Mary would have been curious to learn more about
him. In this case, however, it was his sister that immediately captured and
held her attention – not because she was a devastating beauty, for she was less
than that, but because of the striking resemblance she bore to her own sister
Kitty.

“How do you do,
Miss Beam?” Mary said as she surreptitiously examined the woman’s face upon
first seeing her at Longbourn after church.

The features
were not exact, of course; Miss Beam’s jaw line was squarer and her nose a bit
shorter. But the fawn-colored hair and the large, gentle brown eyes were nearly
identical, giving the same appealing impression of a vulnerable innocent
begging for love and protection.

“Tolerably
well, I thank you,” said Miss Beam in a soft voice. “Although an ocean crossing
is not something to be quickly recovered from, I find.”

“I should think
not!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet as they all six settled together in the drawing
room – she with her two daughters on one settee, the American brother and
sister the other, and Tristan Collins in an armchair. “Nothing less than the
sharp point of a sword could persuade me to submit myself to such a punishment.
I wonder that you should have done so voluntarily, Miss Beam, as delicate as
you seem to be.”

The lady looked
unsure how to respond.

Calvin Beam
came to her rescue. “Although my sister may appear delicate, Mrs. Bennet, her
health is every bit as robust as mine, and she never shies away from a
challenge. Besides, we have long wanted to see England, and this seemed the
perfect opportunity, with our friend here to guide us at this particular
juncture.”

“There was no
hurry, though,” said Kitty. “Mr. Collins will be here at Longbourn to receive
visitors for years to come.”

Now it was
Calvin Beam’s turn to look confused. He regarded his friend. “Are you firmly
decided on staying, then, Triss? We had hoped you might be returning to Virginia with us in the end.”

All eyes rested
expectantly on Mr. Tristan Collins.

“Not
irrevocably decided, no. I am torn, as you might well imagine, between my ties
on this side of the Atlantic and those on the other. I only wish I could unite
all the benefits of both in one place, but of course that is quite impossible.”

“Yes, quite
impossible,” repeated Miss Beam. “You shall have to choose between the two.”

“I am well
aware of that, Miss Beam, believe me.” Tristan’s eyes darted from person to
person about the room, and then ultimately dropped to the floor.

A silence
followed, one which Mrs. Bennet soon rushed to fill. “Well, whilst you are here
in England, Miss Beam, you must make the most of your opportunity. There are
many beauties and wonders in the countryside round about, and should you be
inclined to travel far and wide, I would be happy to advise you on what is
worth seeing. But I daresay you have plenty of lakes and mountains where you
come from. No, London is where you must go; London must by no means be missed.
You will not find its equal anywhere, especially in the colonies.”

“Mama,”
whispered Mary, “they are not ‘the colonies’ anymore.”

“Ah, yes, I
keep forgetting. What I meant to say is that there can be nothing in your young
country to equal the history and culture of London.”

“I am sure you
are correct, Mrs. Bennet,” replied Calvin Beam. “Nothing in America can pretend to match London’s historic edifices, although we do flatter ourselves that we
are not totally deficient in culture.”

A civil yet
spirited debate continued, primarily between these two, comparing the merits of
English tradition and American innovation.

Mary could
attend to it but little, so thoroughly occupied was she observing the faces
round the room and listening to what was
not
being said. Her mother had
been right, she shortly concluded. There had been something more than
friendship between Mr. Tristan and Miss Polly Beam, and it was entirely
possible the lady had come with the hope of rekindling it. Miss Beam was
clearly trying to catch Tristan’s eye. Kitty alternated between also looking to
him for a sign of reassurance and staring daggers at Miss Beam. The man himself
avoided them both and feigned interest in the conversation going forward
amongst the others. Finally, he settled his troubled gaze on Mary. She returned
it with one intended to convey understanding and compassion.

That would be
her advantage, she decided right then and there. Where the others made demands
of Tristan, she would not. When her rivals pressed him for a decision, she
would be patient. She would prove her value in being a listening ear, a
sympathetic friend, a true and unselfish heart. She would not criticize Kitty
or Miss Beam; she would rise above. Then, after the other two had exhausted
themselves in a series of unbecoming skirmishes, she would still be standing,
tall and untarnished, to take the prize.

“Mrs. Bennet,”
said Mr. Collins suddenly, interrupting another one of her long speeches. “I
feel the need for some exercise before dinner. What would you advise? Have you
no more lanes hereabouts in which I may lose my way?”

“By all means,
Mr. Collins. Do take your friends and walk to Oakham Mount. It is a nice long
walk, and you have never seen the view. Kitty will be happy to show you the
way.”

“It may do very
well for me and for my strong friend Mr. Beam,” replied Tristan, “but I am sure
it will be too much for the ladies.”

“It is not too
much for me,” declared Kitty, getting to her feet at once. “I have made the
trek several times before, and I am not the least bit tired.”

“Nor am I,”
said Miss Beam, also rising. “I should very much like to see this view.”

“Then you may
as well go too, Mary,” said Mrs. Bennet. “I shall have a little nap whilst you
young people are out. Mind you are not gone too long, though. Cook will have
her nose out of joint for a fortnight if her famous fish stew is ruined.”

“I shall just
dash upstairs and change to my boots,” said Kitty. “Mary, will you help me?”

Since changing
footwear was hardly a two-person job, Mary perceived that what her sister
actually desired was a word with her in private. Being curious what Kitty had
to say, she willingly went.

“Is this not
the most upsetting development, Mary?” Kitty began in hushed tones when the
door was closed. “What were these people thinking to arrive here unannounced
and uninvited? The brother is not too bad, I suppose, except that he is always
putting his sister forward. But that Miss Beam! She cannot take her eyes of our
cousin Tristan, and we have not had a moment to ourselves since she arrived.”

“I gather there
is some history between the two. What does Mr. Collins tell you about it?”

“Very little.
As I say, we have barely had a moment for a private conversation, not with
her
always lurking about. And I think he does not wish to worry me by letting on
that there was ever anything serious between them.”

“You
are
worried, though. You see this Miss Beam as a threat to your position.”

“No, not as a
threat. She is no more to me than an irritating nuisance, an insect buzzing in
my ear. I certainly have no reason to fear her, and yet you must see how
uncomfortable she makes our dear Tristan.”

“There is
something else odd about her too,” Mary said tentatively. “Do not you think
so?”

“What do you
mean by odd?”

“Surely you
cannot have failed to notice her looks, how much she resembles you.”

“Resembles me?
Miss Beam?”

“Why, yes, I
was immediately struck by the similarity! Do you not think it remarkable?”

“I see no very
strong likeness, but it would not be so surprising if there were. Some men
prefer tall, fair girls and others those of shorter stature with brown hair and
eyes. What of it? The point is this, Mary, that you must assist me to get Mr.
and Miss Beam out of the way so that I can talk to Tristan alone.”

“What would you
have me do? Shall I push them off the cliff whilst they are admiring the view?”

“Do be serious,
Mary! I simply want you distract them, to engage them in conversation, to walk
ahead with them when I hang back with Tristan. Do you suppose you can do that
much for me?”

Mary thought a
moment. “I shall do as you ask if you will return the favor.”

“What? You wish
to have time alone with Tristan as well? What can you possibly have to say to
him that will not admit being overheard?”

“An apology,”
declared Mary, giving Kitty an even look. “I said something rude to him at
Pemberley and I am determined to make him an apology today. My conscience
demands that I beg his pardon, and yet my vanity insists that there be no
witnesses.”

Kitty studied
her before answering. “Very well, then,” she said slowly. “We shall work as a
team. You shall have your turn, and I must have mine.”

29

Admiring a View

It was not
easy, but Mary did manage to attach both Mr. and Miss Beam to herself for most
of the walk up to Oakham Mount. Feigning absolute ignorance about the new world
and an equally absolute urgency to remedy the situation, she soon entangled the
brother and sister in a web of questions so dense that it required the better
part of an hour to extract themselves from it.

Kitty,
meanwhile, followed along behind on the arm of Mr. Tristan Collins, talking
with him in tones too subtle to decipher at any distance. Mary for a long while
resisted glancing back at them, both to avoid torturing herself and to avoid
drawing Miss Beam’s attention thither. That lady’s eyes were sure to wander to
the view at the rear at least once in every five minutes as it was.

Finally, Mary
did look back, hoping to receive a signal from her sister that she could at
last free her captives. Kitty gave her a stern glare instead. So Mary soldiered
on a few minutes more until she ran out of questions to ask and out of patience
with Kitty’s demands. She then thanked the Beams for all their helpful
information. “You must forgive me for monopolizing your time,” she told them.
“I have such an insatiable thirst for knowledge that I could not seem to help
myself.”

“That is quite
all right, Miss Bennet,” said Calvin Beam. “I admire your dedication to learning
as well as teaching. With all the knowledge you have accumulated, you must be a
very valuable asset to your students.” He then stopped and turned, and his
sister did as well. “Come along, you two,” he called. “I have never seen such
dawdlers. Are you so out of breath?”

“Not out of
breath,” Tristan answered. “We are only in less of a great hurry than you three
seem to be. It is not a race, you know.”

They finished
the assent reunited as one group, and stood to admire the view several minutes.
Mary pointed out the principal landmarks visible from that vantage point – a
portion of the village of Meryton, the London road, Miller’s pond, and the
house and park of Netherfield. After providing this service, she withdrew a
little, taking Kitty with her. “I hope you are satisfied,” she whispered.

“You could have
kept them away a little longer,” Kitty returned in hushed tones.

“I should like
to see you do half so well for me.”

Kitty frowned.
“Did you notice how Miss Bean fastened herself onto Tristan like a leach just
now, the moment my back was turned?”

“You cannot
blame her; she has no way of knowing that you consider him your private
property. Perhaps someone ought to warn her off.”

Miss Beam was
no longer gazing down at the bucolic scene in the valley below, but up at Mr.
Tristan Collins’s handsome face instead, listening intently to his opinion on
what constituted a truly picturesque view. “Please excuse me from making any
comment,” she said when he had finished. “I know nothing of the picturesque.”

“As for me,
Triss,” Mr. Beam chimed in, “you must be satisfied with such admiration as I
can honestly give. I call it a very fine country – the hills are steep, the
woods seem full of fine timber, and the valley looks comfortable and snug –
with rich meadows and several neat farm houses scattered here and there. It
exactly answers my idea of a fine country, because it unites beauty and
utility.”

“And I daresay
it is a picturesque one too, because you admire it,” added Miss Beam with a
warm smile at Tristan.

“Yes, indeed.”
said Kitty for her sister’s ears alone. “Perhaps someone should warn her off.”

When everybody
had got their fill of seeing what could be achieved from the top of a hill,
Kitty suggested they should start back, and she claimed Miss Beam as her walking
companion. She failed to account for Mr. Beam, however, who then joined Mary
and Tristan in a second informal group. As the two men conversed, Mary cast
about for some scheme to dispose of the unwanted spare. She had nearly given up
hope of having one minute alone with Tristan when Mr. Beam himself provided the
solution.

“Oh, bother,”
he said in disgust, stopping in his tracks. “I have somehow managed to get a
sharp pebble into my boot, and it is cutting into my flesh like broken glass. I
cannot go on until I have shifted it.” He limped off toward a boulder that
would serve for a seat whilst he accomplished the operation.

“We shall wait
for you,” said Tristan.

“No, no, there
is no sense in that, old boy. You and Miss Bennet go on and I shall catch you up
presently.”

“Very well,”
said Tristan. He offered his arm to Mary and they resumed their descent of the
hill, albeit more slowly.

Not knowing how
long Mr. Beam would be elsewhere occupied, Mary wasted no time. “Mr. Tristan,”
she began, “I am glad that we have a moment alone, for there is something very
particular I wish to say to you.”

“You mustn’t
look so grave, dear Mary. Surely it cannot be anything as dire as all that.”

“Not dire
perhaps, but a serious subject nonetheless. I wanted to apologize for somewhat
of my conduct at Pemberley and on the journey home. I believe I behaved in a
rather uncharitable manner toward you, and I am sorry for it. Will you forgive
me?”

“It is already
forgiven and forgotten, my dear cousin. I could clearly comprehend that something
had got the better of you, stolen away your usual good nature as it were. I was
only distressed by the impression that I might unknowingly have been the cause
of it.”

“No, it was
something else entirely.”

“You said
‘was.’ I trust that means your trouble is now all in the past.”

“It will be if
you say that we are still friends, Cousin Tristan.”

“Of course we
are,” he said, patting her hand as it rested on the sleeve of his coat. “We are
more than friends. We are…uh… Why, we are family as well, are we not?”

“That we are.”
They walked on in silence for a minute before Mary broached a new topic,
watching for his reaction as she did so. “You must have been surprised by the
arrival of your friends from America – surprised and pleased.”

“Naturally,” he
said with a smile that looked a little forced, “at least once I ascertained
that all was well – with them and with my holdings. When I left Virginia, I had no idea of ever seeing them again, at least not this side of the Atlantic.”

“So they had
not told you about their earnest desire to see England, then.”

“No, it must
have been a notion that came upon them quite recently. One may develop a sudden
interest in a place one has heard a great deal about, I suppose, especially
when one has a friend there to visit.”

“Undoubtedly.
Would you permit me to make an observation, though?”

“Please, speak
freely.”

“Well, I cannot
help thinking that the unexpected presence of the Beams has placed you in a
rather… awkward position.” He started to say something but Mary held up her
free hand to stop him. “No, you owe me no explanations, and indeed I desire
none. I merely meant to tell you that if ever you are in need of a sympathetic
ear, an impartial confidante, I hope you will feel at liberty to come to me. As
your true friend, I will hear whatever you like. I will tell you exactly what I
think.”

“My goodness! I
hardly know what to say, Miss Mary. Your kindness has quite overwhelmed me.”

Calvin Beam,
walking now without a limp, rejoined them at that moment, putting an end to their
brief tête-à-tête. Although Mary could have wished for more time, she was
satisfied. She had accomplished what she had set out to do. She had made her
position clear. She had put her association with Mr. Tristan Collins back on
solid footing. And what was more, she had done so without sacrificing her
dignity.

He could no
longer be in any doubt of possessing her steadfast respect and affection. What
he ultimately chose to do about it was out of her hands. She would trust to
him, to God, and to the full measure of time to decide the matter rightly. She
would not throw herself at him. She refused to make a spectacle as if she had
taken complete leave of her senses. If that was what was required to win the
man, Mary felt she had much rather let one of the other two have him, for that
would mean he was not worth the price after all.