Chapter 18 #3
How lamentable that this gossip was an improvement over the previous conversation. “Our whole neighbourhood must pity Mrs Starr,” Mrs Darcy said sadly. “If she is not seized herself in default of payment, something ought to be done for her and her children. Mr Darcy, do you think that we might—”
“The fault in her failure lies with Mrs Starr,” said Mrs Collins. “As the wife of the principal landowner in the village, I do not think it wise to set a precedent to support those who have failed not through tragedy but through their own unwise choices.”
“I could not disagree with you more,” Darcy said. “Let us hope for the sake of Mrs Starr’s hungry children that the rector of Longbourn and the other landowners do not oppose a little charity to widows and orphans.”
In the silence that followed Mrs Darcy gave him a smile, and she appeared to relax.
“This is all so very dull!” Lydia exclaimed. “I am eager to go to South End with Jane.”
“Yes, you have not even seen Thomas, let alone the newest nephew.” His wife’s countenance brightened as she mentioned these little boys. “Thomas is two, and Frederick will be above eight months—”
“I do not at all care for that. Well, I do wish them well, of course, and I daresay they are better behaved than—I want to go to the seaside because, after that holiday, I hope to spend the winter in London with Jane and Mrs Cuthbert.”
“I have no doubt you will do very well during your turn,” replied her mother.
“Jane and Kitty made a match their first seasons in town. How strange that Lizzy went every winter for five years and never had one offer. And she was there for Jane’s lying-ins, too.
I was always so disappointed when you came home every spring. ”
She undoubtedly meant that she was distressed her daughter remained single, but Mrs Darcy still closed her eyes with a quiet sigh. When she opened them, Darcy gave her a commiserating smile.
“I had more practice flirting here than Lizzy had in London,” Lydia announced.
“The regiment was here last winter, and I was sure to catch the notice of the colonels and majors, though it was difficult since they were never invited to Longbourn. Lizzy, there were so many handsome officers! I had set my cap on Colonel Forster, but he married not long after they arrived.”
“Perhaps you ought to have tried for one of the captains or lieutenants.”
Darcy heard the satirical tone of her voice, but Lydia, clearly, did not.
“I could not be used to such a small income as they have! My competence ought to be one or two thousand a year, at least. Jane’s marriage and my father’s death showed me how necessary wealth is.
Although, a few of the lieutenants might have been handsome enough to tempt me into flirting even though they had no fortunes. Lieutenant Denny and his friend—”
“Coquettes have but little sensibility, Lydia!” Mrs Collins cried. “Natural graces, if any you have, are lost in levity and affectation.”
“Yes, my dear Mary. A flirt such as Lydia courts the regards of all, but has no true regard to bestow upon any. A forward appearance and light demeanour disgust a man of delicacy.”
Darcy was appalled, Mrs Darcy’s mouth hung open, and Lydia’s high spirits fell. Mr Collins was the most tactless man ever to be called a gentleman.
“Well, I am sure my Lydia has attractions enough to get a good husband in London!” Mrs Bennet was eager to defend her youngest child.
“Just because Lizzy never did, it does not mean Lydia cannot. There is nothing so comforting in my time of life as having my daughters well-settled, even you, Lizzy.”
Darcy could not be sure if this slight was added because he was her least desirable son-in-law, or because Mrs Darcy was her least favourite child.
He could not see how Mrs Bennet could fail to acknowledge the good qualities of her second eldest daughter.
He laughed quietly to himself. It must be me.
Fitzwilliam Darcy is not quite the desired husband for the sister-in-law to a man worth a few thousand a year with connexions in trade.
The rest of the meal went on in the same style, and he convinced Mr Collins to forgo talk in the dining room in order to return to the ladies sooner. They entered the drawing room to hear Mrs Bennet talking about her grandchildren.
“Have you had a letter from Kitty? She is expecting a child this winter, not long after Mary. To think she was only married in November! Of course, it was just the way with Jane and Mary, too.”
“Yes, it is those wives who have given their husbands children who bless, dignify, and adorn society,” Mr Collins said, looking at his wife if not with fondness, then at least respect.
Instead of affectionately meeting her husband’s gaze, Mrs Collins was looking at Mrs Darcy, resting a hand on her rounded stomach, with a smirk that announced all the superiority she felt over her older, prettier, and more accomplished sister.
His wife looked as though she wished the earth would open up and swallow her whole to spare her this mortification.
Darcy wondered what he might say to ease or distract her, and he sat by her.
While he wondered what might help, short of their leaving, he pressed her hand.
She met his eye and gave his hand a firm squeeze before setting her shoulders.
Her mother seemed to notice her distress, because she left the tea table, where she had been usurping Mrs Collins, to join them.
“I am sure your time will come, Lizzy. I wonder at your not expecting a child yet.” Her voice raised in a question, and Darcy looked anywhere but at either of them. “I suppose it has only been two months, but your sisters and even I—”
“I look forward to the coming of another little relation, Mamma!” Mrs Darcy cried. “I will write to Kitty to congratulate her on her happy news.”
The evening did not pass pleasantly with lively talk, or with diverting games or music.
Mrs Collins said that since young William was asleep, Mrs Darcy ought not to play, and she ignored her mother’s hints that the card tables be placed.
Mrs Bennet was oblivious to everyone’s discomfort and was interested only in news, Lydia’s desperation to be married and gone from Longbourn was apparent in her every word, and Mr Collins’s flattery insulted almost as much as Mrs Collins’s false morality and pettishness.
At the close of the evening, Mrs Bennet attempted to act as mistress of the manor and offered the Collinses’ carriage. “Lydia! Run down and order the carriage for the Darcys. They keep no carriage of their own, you know, and the moon will not quite be full for—”
“Mamma, we are in habits of economy. Perhaps you had not realised since you have had to make way for me,” said Mrs Collins, “and if the Darcys walked here, they are capable of sparing my horses and my servant by walking back to their lodge.”
Darcy tried to unite civility and falsehood in thanking them for the evening since Mrs Darcy’s lips were pressed together, and she looked as though she might scream if she was forced to speak.
It was not as dreadful as the Longbourn ball, but that was only because Mrs Darcy was not crippled by a heart paroxysm.
He was surprised, therefore, when they reached the lane and his wife laughed.
“What a terrible, terrible evening! Taken on their own, I can bear each one tolerably well, but the entire Longbourn family together is insupportable.”
“A true gentleman could make no civil reply to that. Still, at least you are diverted by their absurdity rather than pained by it. I do not think my temper could ever be so forgiving.”
“It is because I am able to leave. I am pained at the thought of living amongst them again. So I hope you do not decide it would be convenient to return to your friends without explaining my existence and instead leave me at Longbourn, since I am to die soon anyway.”
Mrs Darcy stopped walking to look at him, to silently ask that he not abandon her. He held out his arm for her to take, and tugged her closer until she fit against his side for their walk home.
“I never once considered it.”