Chapter Eight
The Parish Dole
Elizabeth considered Harriet Standley as no more than a neighbour who happened to be her equal in age, birth, and breeding.
They had little else in common. Miss Standley was the daughter of a gentleman of easy competence but no vast fortune, from an estate similar to Longbourn in value and importance.
Of course, Mr Standley still lived, and his widow and daughter were not dependent upon the charity of their richer relatives. There, they were unequal.
In truth, Elizabeth rarely considered Harriet Standley at all.
Harriet’s occasional jabs and stabs to prove her superiority, being Miss Standley of Hathersage as opposed to Miss Bennet of Nowhere-in-particular-any-more, were so ineffectual and lacklustre that Elizabeth parried them with ease.
Miss Standley usually soon conceded the field.
The conversation would then safely turn to the common civilities that marked an indifferent acquaintanceship.
Consequently, Elizabeth viewed the Standleys’ visit to Pemberley’s new master with a detached unconcern and hoped she would not find it too tedious a business.
Miss Standley accompanied her parents, likely to determine if Mr Darcy were a better prospect than his younger brother, to whom she had been fruitlessly signalling her interest for a year or more.
Aunt Darcy received her curtsey with a smile and, with a kind word about allowing her to spend some time with young ladies her own age, had sent her to a sofa with Elizabeth and Georgiana, some distance in this vast room from where her parents sat with Mrs Darcy.
“I had heard you were sadly changed by your recent indisposition, Miss Elizabeth.” Miss Standley tutted softly as she took her seat.
“I see it is indeed the case! Your face is so thin and colourless… Such a pity. Once the bloom has gone, it can rarely be regained. Have you tried the Lotion of The Ladies of Denmark? I believe it to be quite efficacious.”
Elizabeth smiled as sweetly as she knew how.
“Oh, I do not use it, or Olympian Dew, or any similar concoction of crushed strawberries and sheep’s milk, or whatever it is fashion dictates.
I do not feel the need. After all, I had a great deal of bloom and now it is merely reduced to match everyone else’s. ”
Miss Standley flushed, but Georgiana, allowed into the drawing room to make her curtsey to visitors, spoke up bravely. “We think Lizzy to be vastly pretty, I assure you, Miss Standley.”
Miss Standley reached across Elizabeth to pat Georgiana’s hand. “You are such a kind girl, Miss Darcy!” She glanced at Elizabeth, and added a rather grudging, “I am pleased to see you recovered.”
The opening of the door and the arrival of more company prevented Elizabeth’s replying with other than a smile and a nod.
When the Standleys were announced, Aunt Darcy had sent Hugh to chase his brother back to the drawing room to do his social duty.
The first indication of Hugh’s success was his arrival with a tight-lipped Mary on one arm and Elizabeth’s mamma clinging to the other, her face aglow with triumph.
Hugh’s expression was not as happy. Mr Darcy followed with Jane on his arm and Lydia and Kitty on his coat tails, so close were they upon his heels.
Whatever ambitions Harriet Standley might harbour towards Pemberley’s new master must surely wither into dust. Not one lady in Derbyshire could match Jane for sheer beauty, elegant and alluring as she was even in the shabby riding habit that had been old before the family left Longbourn.
Jane was quietly radiant, and stiff, remote Mr Darcy smiled more fully than Elizabeth had seen hitherto.
Miss Standley released a low, huffing sigh as Mr Darcy escorted Jane to the sofa set at right angles to the one where she, Georgiana, and Elizabeth sat.
Aunt Darcy greeted Mamma and the girls with her usual grace, but viewed Kitty and Lydia with a less kindly eye as they squeezed themselves onto the same sofa as Jane.
Lydia, all glossy hard edges, was impervious to disapproving glances, although Kitty, softer and more malleable, shrank down to hide behind Lydia’s brash courage.
Elizabeth’s younger sisters would be improper, she was sure, but Aunt Darcy would deal with it swiftly when it happened. Her mother would do nothing.
Mary took a seat beside Mamma near the elder Standleys, and cast Elizabeth an apologetic look before retiring into her usual self-effacement.
The elder Bennet girls had agreed with Mamma about when and how to make the introduction to Mr Darcy, an arrangement Mamma had thrown to the winds.
No doubt she wanted to put her beautiful Jane before Mr Darcy as swiftly as may be. Well, she had succeeded.
Aunt Darcy made the Standleys known to her stepson. Mr Darcy was civil, though stiff and reserved in manner. His bow over Miss Standley’s hand was no more than courtesy required, and he showed her no extraordinary notice.
“I am told you are recently returned from India, sir. I spent some time there myself, years ago—” And with that, Mr Standley was off on the hunt for common acquaintances.
Doubtless he hoped to build a stronger relationship between Hathersage and Pemberley, based upon whatever connection he could establish.
He had a daughter to marry off, after all, and Mr Darcy was the greatest matrimonial prize in this part of Derbyshire.
Within a moment or two, the conversation was all Bengal and nabobs, silks and ivory…
at least, the traders in those last two commodities who might be known to both gentlemen.
Mr Darcy glanced more than once at Jane, about whom Hugh was hovering like a bee over a flower, but Mr Standley would not release his prey.
It must feel akin to being held in the jaws of a crocodile.
Georgiana was developing a shy admiration for her eldest brother, perhaps because Mr Darcy treated all her small concerns and occupations with grave consideration.
After only a few days, Georgiana was more comfortable with him than Elizabeth would have deemed possible.
Her desire to please and her eagerness to hear of his life in foreign lands had rescued more than one flagging dinner conversation, and she listened with innocent excitement to his tales.
Now, as Mr Standley paused to draw a belated breath, her soft voice was heard in the sudden silence telling Miss Standley of the exciting account of a tiger shoot with which her brother had indulged her the previous evening.
Everyone, even Hugh, had listened, fascinated.
Elizabeth had been the one to deplore, if only to herself, another adventurous, manly tale serving to remind the ladies of the difference in their lots when it came to active occupation.
“Oh, you hunted?” Mr Standley sounded surprised, while Georgiana squeaked and reddened at being heard by the whole company. “I suppose you government envoys took every opportunity to enjoy yourselves, eh?”
Mr Darcy met this insulting conjecture with a cool glance.
“Certainly, no life is one of all labour and no respite. Besides, the camaraderie of the hunt leads men to be more careless of their secrets. I learned much of value to the king while perched in a howdah on the back of an elephant, seeking out the tiger in his lair.”
“I must confess,” said Elizabeth, while most of the company goggled at him, “to a great deal of sympathy for the tiger. It must be quite harrowing to be going about one’s business in one’s own jungle, and suddenly elephants are thundering after one, bearing eager gentlemen with loud guns.
I have never seen a tiger in the flesh, of course, but from the illustrated accounts I have read, they seem noble beasts. How sad to be hunted for their skins.”
“They are hunted as often, though, because of the danger they pose to the villagers and farmers.” Mr Darcy turned to her, as her mother was heard to exclaim “Lizzy!” in reproof.
Elizabeth inclined her head. She ignored her mother, but Mamma was not to be gainsaid.
“Remember where you are, Lizzy! You cannot always run on in this wild manner.”
Mr Darcy, though, spoke on as if Mamma had been silent and Miss Standley were not openly smirking. “They are noble-looking beasts indeed, Miss Elizabeth, but they are as fierce as their reputations and can cause fearful depredations if not checked.”
“I bow to your knowledge and experience, sir.”
Mamma, however, was not done. “You must forgive Lizzy’s impudence, sir.
Mrs Darcy is too indulgent of her, I fear!
My Jane would not seek to impose on a gentleman’s conversation.
Jane has the sweetest temper I have ever met with, as sweet as she is beautiful.
I often tell my other girls they are nothing to her.
I do not think you will find a prettier girl than my Jane in the whole of Derbyshire.
” Mamma glanced at Miss Standley, and away again to smile more broadly on her host. “I am sure many a mother envies me Jane’s beauty.
I do not care to boast, but one does not often see anyone so lovely.
Everybody remarks upon it. One gentleman, you know, wrote poetry in her honour! ”
The conversation flagged for an instant.
Aunt Darcy seldom allowed her irritation to show, but her mouth tightened visibly.
Mr Darcy looked astonished before his expression smoothed out into indifference, and though he kept his countenance and did not sneer, as did the Standleys, Elizabeth felt he could not but disdain her mother’s ill-mannered effusions.