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Author's Chapter Notes:
Our first real experience of Mark awaits.

The time had not gone idly by Jim Halpert, but he could not quite deny that hiding from his host and friend in a book, even one so exciting as the tale of the good doctor F----, was coming on a little strong in the hermit line. He resisted his conscience’s urgings for as long as he could, knowing that once he gave in to its urgings he would be unlikely to be able to hide himself away again in a similar manner in the near future. But at length, as he knew would have to happen, Mark strolled into the library where he had been hiding away and cocked an eyebrow at him. Coming from Mark, this was the equivalent of any his relatives stampeding into the room and throwing themselves into his arms full of questions, so, naturally, he waggled his eyebrows back at him. Mark took this in the correct mode, as Jim had known he would, and drew up a chair beside him.

 

 

“Well, Halpert?” he began. “As Jenkins assured me that we received not one but two invitations for this sudden ball Scott’s chosen to throw for some reason, so I assume that your appearance last evening was a success, but I must confess myself surprised not to have heard more about the affair from you yourself, rather being obliged to infer from the behavior of Michael Scott, which is always a dangerous thing to attempt.”

 

Jim grinned. “That it is. But in this case, you have gone only a little afield. I hardly talked to Scott—that is to say, he talked to me for twenty minutes but I hardly got a word in edgewise—“

 

Mark broke in to confirm that that did, indeed, sound like the Colonel Scott he was familiar with as well.

 

“—but then he left me entirely to myself for most of the rest of the night. I barely exchanged glances with him after that, let alone words! I cannot tell why I am so heartily blessed as to receive this additional invitation, for without it I would have thought myself almost entirely a failure. Though perhaps it was the intervention of Miss Lapin…”

 

“Oh ho, a lady! A lady! My dear Halpert, I never thought I’d see the day!”

 

“It is nothing like that, Mark, and I will thank you not to jump to conclusions—you are liable to harm your hamstrings. Phyllis Lapin is an old friend from Chester who, I will have you know, is far closer to being a long-lost aunt than a…a romantic entanglement of mine.”

 

“You interest me. Go on.”

 

“There’s not much more to tell, save that she was there, holding court amongst the ladies at the ball, and we spent a great deal of time renewing our acquaintance towards the end of the night. She seems well connected within, if not the ton, whatever term we might use for Scott’s set.”

 

“Ah yes, the tots. Quite like the ton you know—a fair degree of overlap, in fact—but not quite tout a fait the thing. Howard and I named it, after the way Scott pronounces tout.”

 

“Indeed. How is Howard, by the way? Still stuck in Norfolk with his family? Or is he back at Oxford again?”

 

“Oh, no! I thought you’d heard. Rusticated again—six months this time, something to do with a fire—but not in Norfolk, not at all. Staying with his aunt in some family villa on the west side of town. Looking for something to do, I think; come to think of it, I might bring him tomorrow to Scott’s little to-do. Been too long since the three of us had a chinwag, and I know he’s always amused by Scott’s tots.”

 

“Tomorrow? But I thought…that is, I was told you were intending to decline the invitation. You can’t possibly tell me you’re free on this short notice.”

 

“Oh, I’m not, but it was simply a family affair; Uncle Dorian, having failed entirely to launch Katherine into the ton, or at least into a nice quiet marriage, has given up his grand hopes of balls and dancing and chosen instead to invite little groups of people over for so-called informal dinners, with the hopes of intruding one or two eligible bachelors in each evening and drawing her attention to one of them. If anything, my absence will simply permit Aunt Louisa to shoehorn another of her young bucks into the table.”

 

“All right, but that doesn’t explain your own sudden change of mind.”

 

“But how can you wonder at that, my dear fellow? I’m simply too intrigued by your triumph last night. I must be with you as you revisit the scene of such a smash! And besides, I’m sure there’s more to it than you’ve had the good grace to tell me. You didn’t sit here in” he shuddered “the library for six hours—seven now!—just because you thought Colonel Scott had ignored you, and  even if you had, you didn’t come back here after the confirmation of your success for that. Come come old boy, you’d much better have it out.”

 

“I suppose if I do not you’ll simply consider it your obligation to hound it out of me?”

 

“Don’t be so vulgar! I’ll have Howard do it, you know how he loves to get under your skin.”

 

“Heaven spare me from childhood friends!”

 

“Heaven seems particularly indifferent to the matter, in my experience. If it cared, I’m sure I wouldn’t have to entertain my bore cousins this evening.”

 

“That’s a very different thing!”

 

“I suppose it is, for I suppose I liked my childhood friends at one point; I can’t really recall ever liking my cousins. But seeing as I do have to entertain them, I am not sure I have the time this evening for your endless beating around the bush. So spill it, Halpert.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll have it out of me eventually, so I might as well give.” And so Jim gave. He told Mark the whole story from his anxious arrival to his exhausted exit, and, to his surprise, his friend simply listened to the whole, only nodding occasionally, though Jim could see a mischievous twinkle in his eye. At the end he cleared his throat.

 

“A very full retelling, Mr. Halpert, very full indeed. But you did omit one minor detail.”

 

“What’s that?” sighed Jim.

 

“You haven’t told me when you’re planning to offer for Miss Beesly." He added under his breath "I knew there was a lady somewhere."

 

“What? You heard me say she’s engaged.”

 

“Engaged ten years, you said. Well, I know there are long engagements, and I daresay you saw them together and I didn’t, but Pamela Beesly hasn’t been Michael Scott’s secretary for three years for nothing, you know. She’s the sort that gets things done; couldn’t have stuck with Scott if she weren’t. And if a woman like that has a fiancée who takes ten years to get his boots on, I’d be very much surprised…well, I don’t like to traduce those I don’t know, but I don’t like it, and I don’t think she must either. And while I may not know this Anderson, I do know you—and I’ll note you didn’t say you hadn’t thought of it.”

 

“Of course I thought of it, Mark! But I’m no rake.”

 

“No, more’s the pity. No, don’t hit me! I only mean…well, let us forget it if you’re that upset. Would a ride ‘round one of the parks help cheer you up? I’ll let you drive my greys, to make up for my impertinence.”

 

Jim smiled sadly at his good friend. This was always Mark’s way—an easy manner and a disarming admission of fault without withdrawing the objectionable remark. But seeing as he wasn’t far wrong, Jim didn’t feel like pursuing the matter. He allowed as a ride around the parks might do him good, but disclaimed the desire to be the driver, as he considered Mark by far the whip hand. In this way he both managed to pay his friend a fair compliment (Jim himself being a renowned handler of horses) and let him know he was not entirely off the hook for jumping, as was his wont, so heavily into conclusions.

Chapter End Notes:
The Howard family are Dukes of Norfolk--and yes, that's Ryan. I appreciate any criticism, commentary, or other feedback.

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