Chapter 10 #3
Mary drew back. “I assure you, we, I . . .” She looked at her husband, who did not have the astuteness for a quick reply. After more silence, her sister mumbled an ungracious, “We are happy for Mrs Darcy, are we not, Mr Collins?”
“Yes, indeed. A gentleman with a prospering estate such as Longbourn has the duty to pay every proper attention to a bride. These little attentions are so very important to gently bred ladies. A bride, you know, my dear Mary, is always the first in company.”
Mary’s face was a glow of contempt that went unnoticed by Sir William, who cried, “Yes, let the others be who they may, a bride must come first, particularly when she is the brightest jewel of the county!”
Mr Collins and Sir William appeared pleased with themselves for their courtly attentions.
Elizabeth was mortified, Mr Darcy looked affronted, and the colonel once again was struggling not to laugh.
It appeared to now occur to Mary that the general consensus of their friends was that the ball was given in honour of her sister’s marriage, and she gave Elizabeth a cold look before claiming an errand that, as hostess, she could no longer put off.
Soon the dancing began, and Elizabeth was happy to call a minuet. It was stately, all formal bows and curtsies, and measured paces. It may not have been as fashionable, but it was not an odd choice, and easier on her heart than a reel or Boulanger.
Elizabeth felt the notice of her gossiping neighbours who were no doubt enjoying their first long look at the reclusive man renting Netherfield Lodge.
To her surprise, Mr Darcy’s dancing proved to be extremely good, and Elizabeth kept up a continual course of smiles for the sake of the attention bestowed on them.
The best that could be said for their dance was that their silence had saved her enough breath to have a pleasant conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam when they danced the second.
After that, she sat to spare her heart, and her new husband stood behind her while she received what congratulations flowed in.
The only interruption to the compliments was when the entire gathering was forced to listen to Mrs Baker drunkenly call her husband’s name across the room while he pretended not to hear her.
“Mrs Darcy! Oh, Mrs Darcy.” Her mother ran across the room to sit by her side. “You look handsome! I am so happy to be rid of another one of my girls! Even if it is to such a man, but at least you will be settled near your friends. Mrs Cuthbert and Mrs Redmond are so far away.”
“I hope you often call on me, Mamma.” She heard Mr Darcy exhale, but he did not argue.
“I suppose I could on occasion call at the lodge. Most everyone seems willing to give the Darcys a good character since you are married to that family. He did buy a licence, after all. But, at my time of life, I would rather find comfort in staying at home.”
There was no one less likely than Mrs Bennet to find comfort in staying at home in any time of life, but Elizabeth strove to be polite, aware that Mr Darcy, and everyone within ten feet, could hear her mother. “I hope you are not obliged to go into company more than you like, ma’am.”
“Why are you not dancing?”
“I, I am rather tired. There are few gentlemen, and Lydia ought to dance if she can.”
Mrs Bennet turned in her seat to look at her new son-in-law. “Mary is always neglectful of such things. She has much to learn about being a good hostess, but I can introduce you to any young lady.”
“I am a married man. My dancing days are now over, madam.”
Elizabeth wished Mr Darcy could love a ballroom better. Soon thereafter, the musicians finished, and supper was announced and the move-through began. Mr and Mrs Collins passed near, and Mrs Bennet called to them.
“Oh, Mr Collins! You must be sad to have missed the chance to dance with Lizzy, but she is weary and intends to sit out the remainder of the evening. You do not mind not dancing with the bride?”
“Good heavens, Mamma!” Mary interrupted. “It is bad enough that she opened my ball. Too much notice of Lizzy on the occasion of her marriage is a vanity bait to a poor spinster, a woman who has married a notorious man, and who has nothing to recommend her beyond being the sister to Mrs Collins!”
This mean-tempered injunction was heard by everyone, and Elizabeth blushed in shame.
Many guests stared, a few smiled, as Mary walked, with a self-satisfied air, to supper.
Elizabeth felt a pressure and heaviness building in her chest. Mr Collins remained, and for a moment, Elizabeth thought he might apologise for his wife.
“Mr Darcy, my dear Mary does speak the truth. My cousin Elizabeth was not a wise choice for you. Your fortune is very limited, and your family naturally will be increasing. Elizabeth’s portion is unhappily small.
But, perhaps on this subject, we ought to be silent.
What is done cannot be undone, and her lack of fortune ought not to undo the effects of her alluring qualifications.
Let me advise you, as a man who has enjoyed that honourable estate for two years, to not allow an ungenerous reproach against your wife about her lack of fortune cross your lips. ”
And with a bow to Mr Darcy, he concluded his offensive speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by the entire room.
Elizabeth stood to walk to supper, but fell back into her chair as her legs could not support her.
Her new husband met her eye, and in an instant he was gone, she knew, to order the carriage.
The rest of the party went in to supper, but Colonel Fitzwilliam remained at her side while her breath came unsteadily and her heart pounded away erratically.
“Good heavens, Mrs Darcy. I did not realise how quickly these paroxysms struck you. You ought not to have danced, I suspect.”
She tried to joke about her not realising it either, but the tightness in her chest and the building pain made speech impossible.
Instead, she dropped her head to her knees and allowed Colonel Fitzwilliam to block her from view as the room emptied.
She focused on the pain in her heart, on willing the organ to keep beating as she tried to pull air into her lungs despite the squeezing pressure against them.
Mr Darcy was soon back at her side and all but carried her into the carriage they had hired for the evening.
She had fallen asleep against the side glass before starting awake as they rattled toward the lodge. She opened her eyes, but the carriage was dark, and the gentlemen were engaged in quiet conversation.
“ . . . was nothing compared to the manners of these people.”
“Normally, I would caution you to not be fastidious, but you are not wrong. I feel for Mrs Darcy.”
“For her? Feel for me. She is used to bad connexions, but I shall have to suffer them until—”
He stopped, but Elizabeth knew what he would have said. He would only have to tolerate her embarrassing relations until she dropped dead, which, given tonight’s sudden and severe episode, felt like it would not be long.