The Other Bennet Sister: Episode 5 recap

Caroline Bingley oozes back onto the scene and sets about trying to tear Mary down, because Caroline’s very much after William, who seems very much interested in Mary.

Mary writes to her mother to let her know that, even though the Gardiners’ original governess has returned from Norfolk, she’s still needed and won’t be able to head to Pemberley just yet.

Instead, she’s heading to Lady Winspear’s weekly ball. Lady Winspear? Does that name sound ridiculous to anyone else? Just me? I mean, at least Lady Whistledown was supposed to sound like a fake name.

Oh, and for anyone who wants to know exactly where we are in time: it’s June 1814.

But also: why is Mary Bennet being invited to an aristocrat’s ball? Is this purely through her connection to Darcy? Because it shouldn’t be through the Gardiners, who are in trade and would therefore have been considered beneath the aristocracy. Unless we’re pretending the Gardiners aren’t in trade at all? Have they been retconned into the gentry or something?

Anne Baxter kind of playfully tells Mary that, now her governess-ing days are over, she’ll have to find a husband. Mary tells her that ‘someone who was once a friend’ (oof) said the choices were either marriage or misery. Anne’s like, ‘God, that is BLEAK as hell, who is this miserable person?’

She tells Mary that marriage isn’t the only route through life, and sometimes marriages are miserable, so better to remain single than to risk that. She also firmly tells Mary that Mrs B’s notion that nobody will marry a girl in spectacles is absolute nonsense, and also her mother sounds like she kinda sucks. I like Anne.

Anne decides to get Mary ready for the ball, mostly through some questionable DIY beauty treatments that seem to include quite a lot of onions. Uncle Gardiner comes in and observes that Mary appears to have a stew on her face, then nods in an, ‘All right, carry on!’ sort of way. Hee! It’s going to be so fun for him when his daughters hit their teens, but I feel like he’s getting some good prep for that.

Dinner is served, I guess?

Anne also coaches Mary on how to walk, telling her to step into the room as if she were Lady Winspear herself. Mary apparently has this Lady Winspear confused with the Madonna and walks in like she’s about to give a benediction or something. Anne’s smile gets a little more strained and she tells Mary to just walk normally. She doesn’t seem able to do that.

Ave Mariiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaa!

Nevertheless, Anne’s stoked for her, because she thinks Mary’s going to get to experience the early days of first love, and what’s better than that? Certainly not what comes after, which, to Anne, is kind of a dead-soul ordinariness. Yikes. Mary does a great, ‘Does Tom know you feel this way?’ side-eye.

Anne continues to coach Mary and finally advises her to think back to her childhood, when she didn’t have a care in the world. It’s so clear that Mary never had a time in her life like that, and Anne’s face freezes into a, ‘Wow, your family really messed you up, didn’t they?’ expression.

'Freud would have a FIELD DAY with you'

Mary goes to the ball wearing the same dress she wore to the Meryton assembly all the way back in episode 1. She keeps fussing with her neckline as she and Anne walk in together.

Tom comes over and Anne, being a very good friend, is all, ‘Tom, doesn’t Mary look so great tonight?’ Aww. Mary awkwardly tries to return the compliment, and then Anne levels things up by suggesting Tom dance with Mary, to show how eligible and wanted Mary is. Mary looks pained but agrees, and Tom politely asks if she has any room on her dance card. Mary checks out her (still empty) dance card and says she can find some space for him. I’ll bet she can.

Also: I love the names of the dances. For anyone who (like me) wanted to know what Gathering Peascods is, here you go (skip to about 40 seconds in):

So Tom is, I think, not very good at dancing? He gets an awkward start, and at some point we can hear someone off-camera who might be him apologising. But then when he’s back on camera he’s fine, so I have no idea what was happening there. Mary’s really good and Tom is 100% tracking her every move. The dance is, as Austen-story dances often are, loaded with romantic tension and possibility.

With the dance over, Mary returns Tom to his fiancé and finds herself in charge of the purses. She tries to attract the attention of another gentleman who isn’t dancing, and he promptly spins on his heel and leaves the room. Rude! But he walks past… William Ryder!

Will looks up and spots Mary and swiftly excuses himself from the young woman who was talking to him. Also rude! He beelines for Mary, delighted to see her again. He asks her to dance and she lies that her feet are sore.

He guides her to a table and admits he finds these occasions intolerable, with all the young ladies desperately throwing themselves around, trying to catch men’s attention. Not romantic at all! This guy just drips with Regency male privilege, doesn’t he? Also: is he a time traveller? I always get annoyed when there’s a character in historical fiction who seems baffled by the time in which they live.

'What are consequences? What is a week-end?'

Mary sets him somewhat straight, telling him that these ‘dull’ occasions mean a great deal to these young women, because there’s a lot of pressure on them not to fail.

He asks if she doesn’t feel like some people put too much weight into the idea of marriage and she (and I) inform him that for some people, that’s the only way to survive. Come on, man! You know how the world works! He thinks that the heart should be the only thing that guides people. I’m a bit fed up with this guy now. What a dolt. I’m not saying love and feelings shouldn’t come into it at all, but there are always other, practical, considerations, aren’t there? I mean, even Pride and Prejudice made that clear.

Mary almost laughs as she asks him if he really thinks that’s true. He thinks they should sweep away all these silly rules and just do whatever they want. Oh, God, now I AM done with him.

Mary (and I!) point out that’s really easy for a man to say, because men in this society and time can get away with almost anything, while women bear the consequences (sometimes literally!). Having had a front-row seat to the whole Lydia debacle, she knows of what she speaks. He is so tone deaf to keep pushing this.

He insists she dance with him and takes her out onto the dance floor for a waltz, which was a very new (and somewhat scandalous) dance in London at the time. It definitely serves as a contrast to her more traditional, less touchy-feely dance with Tom earlier.

Mary looks distinctly uncomfortable. Like she’s trying not to vomit. William teases her a little, asks her what she’s reading, and finds out about her old fondness for true crime. By the end of the dance they’re both in much happier moods and everybody’s watching, some approving, some not.

William leaves Mary with Anne and goes to get everyone some ices. Once he’s gone, Anne warns Mary that the guy’s a lot of fun, and very cute, but she should take care with him, especially since he thinks he’s above all the rules to govern polite society. Ladies just can’t play fast and loose with those the way men can, right?

Mary, ludicrously, is all, ‘Oh, is he handsome? I hadn’t noticed.’ And Anne’s like, ‘Girl? Puh-lease.’

Mary insists that William is not into her at all in that way, which is why she can kind of loosen up around him. How does she know he’s not into her? They’ve met twice, and both times he’s attached himself to her like a barnacle.

Tom joins them, and then William returns with ices for himself, Mary, and Anne. Noting that Tom’s arrived, William offers him his ice, and Tom says he wouldn’t dream of taking William’s ice. Is this symbolic? It’s so subtle it’s hard to tell.

Anne signals to Tom that she’d like to dance, and he, like a stick-in-the-mud, says through gritted teeth that he’s quite tired. Yes, all that seething must have exhausted you, Tom.

He then looks at William and Mary, laughing it up over their ices, and decides that dancing with his beautiful future wife is better than watching his crush enjoy herself with his frenemy.

And then who should arrive to ruin all the fun by Caroline Bingley! Yay! She evidently knows William quite well, but when she catches sight of Mary she looks like she’s swallowed a bug. She greets Mary snippily and William seems surprised that she and Mary know each other. Which, as we’ll later learn, is RIDICULOUS.

'Oh, God, not another Bennet'

Caroline says she’s known Mary for ‘some years’ and explains that Mary’s sister married Caroline’s brother. How would William not know that? Do Jane and Bingley never come to London? I find that very hard to believe. And William is clearly quite close to the Bingley family, so how would he not know who Bingley married and then make a connection between that Bennet and Mary? Especially since Pride and Prejudice made it clear that the Gardiners and Bingleys frequently visited each other after Jane’s marriage. William’s friends with all of these people. There’s no reason for this to be a surprise. So weirdly sloppy.

Clearly trying to embarrass Mary, Caroline asks after her governess job, saying she hadn’t thought it had ‘quite come to that’. See? I told you this job would have been seen as a serious embarrassment.

Mary says she’s not doing that anymore, so Caroline asks if she’s husband hunting. Mary says she isn’t and Tom grins and says she’s a radical thinker. He invites her to attend a supper he’s hosting and Mary accepts. Caroline immediately cuts in that Mary should sing, and then steers William away, leaving Mary deflated. Aunt Gardiner notices and looks like she could slice Caroline Bingley right in half with her glare.

Oh dear. Mary’s nervous fidgeting habit is back. Over breakfast she fiddles with a handkerchief and, in a subdued voice, tells her aunt the ball was super fun. She perks up, though, when her uncle comes in and tells her William Ryder stopped by earlier and dropped off a bunch of crime pamphlets for her. Hee!

Also, the Gardiners are invited to the supper at William’s. Aunt G beams and tells Mary she can wear her red dress. Oh, dear God, please don’t!

Mary says she might not go to the supper and her aunt, no fool, says she knows Caroline got under Mary’s skin somehow. Mary says she seems to delight in being horrible to Mary and Mary has no idea why.

Aunt G’s like, ‘Where to begin? She had Darcy snatched right out from under her and she has an inferiority complex the size of Mont Blanc. The only way she can feel better about herself is by making someone else feel less than. Also, she feels threatened by Mary the same way she was threatened by Elizabeth, because the guy she’s trying to get her claws into seems charmed by a Bennet and Caroline can’t fathom why because she doesn’t understand that just dressing nicely and having surface-level accomplishments isn’t necessarily enough to make someone want to spend the rest of his life with her. She also does not understand why doing everything she was taught her whole life to do in order to catch a husband has, in fact, failed to catch her a husband.’

Aunt Gardiner goes on to big Mary up but pointing out how much she’s changed for the better since coming to London. She smiles and laughs! She enjoys herself and has some actual confidence! It’s true, and it’s lovely!

‘We do not run and hide from the Caroline Bingleys of this world,’ she finishes. AMEN!

Oh, God, she has worn the red dress to dinner. Although somehow it’s less offensive this time around. Maybe the lighting’s better for it? And that odd crease has gone from the bodice?

Also: Tom and Anne have been invited to this supper as well. This should be fun.

In the drawing room, Mary notices a bell jar filled with some kind of insect collection on a side table. William explains that it was his father’s. He was a collector of all things strange and unusual. I’d say he passed at least a little bit of that down to his son, whether William realises it or not.

They tete-a-tete about books and those pamphlets he sent, and then Caroline manifests, probably sensing this particular pairing getting a little too cosy. Oh look, she’s wearing a red dress too! (I hate to say it, but it’s fabulous. Much better than Mary’s. It’s a nicer pattern, a better colour, and it suits her.

Caroline oozes over and comments on the portrait of Lady Catherine de Bourgh over the fireplace.

Hold up: so William is a relative of Darcy’s, then? Because there’s no other reason for him to have a portrait of Lady Catherine in his house otherwise. People were not just hanging fan art of their favourite aristocrats in their drawing rooms at this time.

For some reason that I can’t figure out, Mary does not ask the obvious question, which is: oh, you’re my brother-in-law’s kinsman, then? Weird you’ve never mentioned that. I HATE it when characters in stories don’t act like people would in real life. She would absolutely ask him why he had that portrait. And if William’s related to Darcy, doesn’t he know that Darcy married a Bennet? Wouldn’t he have slotted these things together before now, and maybe mentioned it? Oh, you’re Mary! Yeah, your sister married my cousin (or whatever Darcy is)!

And if he’s Darcy’s relative, and they’re all so tight in with the Bingleys, then why was he so surprised that Mary and Caroline knew each other? He would DEFINITELY know his cousin’s wife, and most assuredly would have known her sister married Bingley, making them all one big, happy, crazy family saddled with Mrs Bennet forever. Why is this being treated like some mystery?

In a wildly inappropriate moment (for the time) Caroline asks if she can ‘cast an eye’ over the dinner table before they’re all seated. Oh, hell, no. That was the job of a hostess. That would have been considered serious overstepping and, I imagine, would have sent Mr marriage-is-for-suckers running for the hills.

But William’s just like, ‘yeah, do whatever,’ and wanders off. Once he’s out of earshot, Caroline tells Mary her dress is ugly. Not just me, then?

Of course Caroline has messed around with the seating arrangements and put Mary in between Mr Hurst and some deaf guy. Tom sends her a sympathetic glance.

We skip ahead to partway through the meal. Anne’s smiling a bit too much at the guy sitting across from her. Everyone else is laughing and having a grand time, except for Mary, stuck in conversational no man’s land. She decides to make a go of it and tries to engage Mr Hurst (who’s married to Caroline’s sister, just to put him in context here).

Her first attempts at engaging with him fall flat, so she just asks him what he’s interested in, and he tells her it’s horses. She brightly says she doesn’t know a thing about horses, so could he tell her all he knows? Looking a little panicked, he says they won’t have time for that. Ha! She tells him to just try and they’ll see how they get on.

Get on they do, like a house on fire! She lets him go on and on about everything horses, laughing at his bad jokes and encouraging him. Everyone starts staring, like they’ve never seen a young woman engage a dull older man in conversation over a dinner table before. Like that wasn’t every debutante’s job at some point or another. I mean, they trained for that kind of thing. Tom and William and Aunt G are looking charmed by this. Tom’s also looking a bit thirsty, I’m not gonna lie. Like, maybe he should wait a  little while to get up from the table.

By the end of supper, Mary and Mr Hurst are good pals. Everyone retires to the drawing room, and Caroline comes right over to try and knock Mary down a few pegs. She says she and Lady Catherine were talking recently (see? These families are close!) about the enormous difference between Mary and her sisters. This is what Lady Catherine talks about? What Caroline talks about? How much free real estate does Mary Bennet, of all people, occupy in these people’s heads? If I were her I’d be laughing at how lame that is. Get lives, ladies!

Caroline has the gall to use the, ‘Oh, Lady Catherine just tells it like it is,’ excuse that every horrible jerk uses, and Mary rightly calls that out as just being a lame cover for being a bitch. She says it more politely, but that’s what she means.

Caroline offers Mary some advice and Mary, seeming mostly fed up by this point, allows it. Caroline tells her not to waste too much time in attachments that will never go anywhere. Well, Caroline would be the expert on that, wouldn’t she? Yeah, I said it.

Just in case Mary doesn’t get it, Caroline says she’s talking about Mr Ryder. Mary’s astonished that Caroline thinks she’s going after William, or that she thinks he’s going after her, which seems a bit thick of her especially since this isn’t the first person who’s commented on William’s apparent interest.

Caroline drops that William has, apparently, been talking about Mary a lot lately, and in a very admiring way. She warns Mary to confine herself to her ‘proper sphere’ or risk disappointment.

‘You seem to know a great deal about rejection,’ Mary returns. OOOOOH! Yeah, she went there!

Caroline CANNOT BELIEVE IT and stomps off to, I don’t know, probably go pee on William or something.

The very definition of a slapped face

While Mary’s trying to return her heart rate to normal, Tom comes over, which probably won’t help that heart rate situation. In the most awkward way, he offers to ask William to back off, if Mary wants him to. I bet Tom would LOVE to deliver that message.

Mary seems baffled and tells Tom that she likes hanging out with William, so no, thank you. Tom obviously thinks this means she likes likes William, leading Mary to deny that she’s drawn to William at all.

A couple of random ladies pass by, gossiping meanly about Mary (Oh, the governess) and you can just see this one more humiliation piling on and Mary getting that much closer to breaking.

And Tom’s no help at all. He excuses himself and leaves Mary to try and hold it together as best she can.

Caroline calls for Mary to come sing for them, prompting both Anne and William to brightly encourage her to perform, because obviously they don’t know this is a setup. Caroline leads the whole room in a chant of, ‘Sing! Sing! Sing!’ and then THANK GOD, Uncle Gardiner rushes in and tells Mary she needs to go to Pemberley immediately, because her mother’s very ill. I’ll bet this is the only time in her life she’s been grateful to her mother.

As she rushes to leave, Mary bumps into the table with the bell jar and insects on it, knocking the whole thing over and shattering the bell jar. William looks a bit devastated; Caroline barely tries to hide her smile. Mary leaves, looking like she’s not quite sure what just happened.