Chapter 27 #3
“But you cannot wish to live there.” Mrs Bennet caught his eye, and then turned pink. “I mean no offence to Darcy, but it is scarcely more than a cottage. Miss Bennet of Longbourn has a better chance of being married than Miss Bennet of Netherfield Lodge.”
“But I shall get a husband with Mrs Cuthbert’s help at the seaside!” A look of dawning comprehension diffused over Lydia’s face. “Or with Lizzy’s because Darcy is r—”
“Elizabeth would be glad to chaperon Lydia to a ball,” Darcy interrupted.
Lydia shrieked and flew to her mother. “Mamma! You can be mistress of your own home again, and I shall be married before the year is out!”
“It would be such a help to Darcy,” Elizabeth said, “and you would be a hostess of your own table again. All the neighbours would be so glad.”
Mrs Collins’s face turned red. “No one will say that my table—”
“Oh, hang Mary!” Lydia cried. “Mamma, we have to move there or I shall never be happy again.”
“Well, if it means so much to you and Lizzy, then we could remove there, if it helps Darcy.”
“We shall do very well by ourselves, Mamma, you shall see. And once I have found a rich husband you can live with us if you do not like living there.”
Mrs Bennet conceded, and then wondered about what new furnishing she ought to have and how recently was the drawing room plastered, while Lydia flew about in raptures. Elizabeth gave him a warm, private look, her eyes congratulating him.
“After you are settled,” he said to Mrs Bennet, “you and Lydia must visit us in Derbyshire at Christmas, so long as Lydia has not found herself a beau in town with Mrs Cuthbert.”
Both women giggled and looked markedly happy, and the sight brought joy to Darcy’s heart.
“I am sure you never mentioned that you had a house in the Peak, Darcy,” Mrs Bennet said. “I would have remembered such a thing.”
“I suppose it to be an insignificant holding,” Mrs Collins answered smugly. “He would not have rented that lodge if he was a man of means.”
Darcy saw Elizabeth set her shoulders. “Darcy has a comfortable income, I assure you.”
“I hope that your frugality and capacity can improve it. I can think of little other reason for you to be desired by a man.”
“I am a good manager, but perhaps Darcy married me because he finds me tolerably handsome and his ardent feelings could not be repressed.”
Mrs Collins looked at her husband. “Handsome, she says! Such vanity. Who is not shocked by the flippant impertinence of a self-conceited woman?”
“Why yes. No man wants a woman to dazzle with the supposed superiority of her own powers and allurements. Let man discover, let not her display.”
Mrs Collins gave Elizabeth a self-satisfied smile.
Elizabeth drew breath to speak, but Darcy said, “My dear, why do you not show Mrs Bennet and Lydia the carriage. I am sure you would like to give them a private farewell. I shall be along in a moment.”
She rose and gave him a look that said she knew what he was about.
They had discussed it before they arrived, and while he was certain Elizabeth could manage the Collinses herself, he had asked her to allow him the pleasure of speaking his mind.
“Yes, Mamma, come and see the carriage and give me a hug before we go. Lydia, you must sit in it.”
Darcy watched the ladies leave and waited until the door was closed. His gaze then settled on Mr and Mrs Collins. He was not a man who typically had to resort to explicit set-downs. His silence, his look, or a few terse words and a bow before parting were enough to express his displeasure.
This would require directness and not a bit of dissembling for the sake of politeness.
“Mr Collins, the way you allow your wife to exhibit cruelty and parsimony in order to reign over this house with domestic misery is shameful.”
“Why Darcy,” he cried as he rose, “I—”
“Mister Darcy,” he corrected.
Mr Collins blinked. “We are brothers and equals, surely I can flatter myself that we—”
“I do not have time to waste while you flatter yourself, since you speak at length on the dullest of subjects.” Mr Collins appeared to be too many cognitive steps behind to be insulted, so Darcy continued.
“The artifices that you have employed to attract admiration could not deceive a person of sense. So trust me, Mr Collins, that your ignorant, illiterate, foolish manner does not pass undiscovered by me or anyone in Meryton.”
“Mr Darcy! I have a fortune, a house, a carriage, and by those rights I am a gentleman deserving of—”
“I am finished with you,” Darcy cut in. “You do not possess the requisite intelligence to further any conversation with me.”
His silence satisfied Darcy. He then fixed his eyes on Mrs Collins. She remained seated, and drew back slightly as he took two paces nearer to stand over her.
“I shall say my piece to you, madam, and then I shall quit this house forever. For some reason I cannot fathom, your head has been swelling with overestimated self-importance since you married a weak-willed, stupid man. And now that you have secured a husband, you have no notion as to what to do with yourself other than harm those you perceive to be vulnerable. You quote from outdated morality sermons and use your limited abilities to exert control over those who deserve your notice, your loyalty, and your compassion. You have no noble ambitions for the good works you might do, but would rather horde your money and boast that you are mistress of an estate as though you accomplished anything beyond being the wife of the dull man who inherited this house.”
Mrs Collins seemed to take a long time to adjust her reflections on all that she heard, and finally said, “You have no right to speak to—”
“Hear me in silence. Your cruelty toward me and mine ends now. I am speaking to you as a husband who will not allow further harm to come to his wife. Elizabeth and I shall never set foot in this house again. I will not admit to your society in town and you are not welcome in my home. You are not to tyrannise Mrs Bennet and Lydia. Elizabeth has told me she does not want even a letter from you. If any of those things happen, I will use every means in my power to make your life as miserable as you made my dearest Elizabeth’s life unbearable. ”
“I did nothing at all to harm Lizzy.”
“I am not finished.” Darcy used a tone he rarely had cause to use. “You are an insecure, self-righteous, moralistic woman of zero consequence in this world due not to a lack of fortune or connexions but because of your pride and selfishness.”
“Did Lizzy aim to have you speak to me this way?” She crossed her arms. “She has too bold a temper; it is not pleasing in a female.”
“Elizabeth’s only aim is to laugh at you.” Darcy set his hat on his head and put on his gloves. “Mine is to make you aware of your own insignificance, to swear to you that I shall never aid your family, and to ensure Elizabeth’s continued health and happiness.”
Without so much as touching his hat, he strode through the door.
Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders in Jane’s drawing room.
They had been invited to dine at the Cuthberts’ as soon as they arrived in London, and she was reminded of all the oppression she had experienced being an unwanted sister in someone else’s home.
Reminded of it, but not sunk anew. Independence had been one of her motivations to persuade Darcy to marry her, but there was a new strength and succour in the self-sufficiency and status she had gained as a married woman, and it felt even greater now that she had Darcy’s affection.
“You mean you will not come when Jane is lain-in?” Mrs Cuthbert spoke louder than was necessary for a room with only three people in it. “Not that you were needed, Eliza, not with me here to manage Robert’s household, but for some reason, Jane always wanted you when her time came.”
“Mother Cuthbert, having Lizzy with me is always a comfort, but she has her own home now.” Jane was ever calm and agreeable.
“Pray, what is there to do but manage a few chickens and a cook?” Mrs Cuthbert gave a patronising smile.
“But at least you are married now, that is the important thing! No longer a burden, thank heavens. And we are near enough to Meryton that you could come for a fortnight when Jane’s time comes. Your husband can likely spare you.”
“You are kind in your hints that I am needed here”—and rude in your hints that I am not needed in my impoverished husband’s house—“but Mr Darcy only leased the house in Meryton after his sister fell ill while at Ramsgate and could not be moved farther. We will soon go to Derbyshire, where Mr Darcy has an estate.”
Jane only raised her eyebrows, but Mrs Cuthbert’s mouth gaped to hear this information. “I was under the impression you married the least well of all of your sisters. I am surprised you never boasted of it. I suppose your income must be rather small.”
The door opened, and the gentlemen came in, Darcy nodding with a complaisant gaze and Robert talking about the four percents.
“I thought you might have spent at least another hour talking with Mr Darcy, Robert dear,” called Mrs Cuthbert before he advanced into the room. “You have no opportunity for intelligent conversation at home with your pretty wife.”
Darcy’s eyes widened in affront at her ill-breeding, and he gave Jane a slight bow before sitting by Elizabeth.
“What did you learn about the price of stock today?” she murmured.
“I heard about it, but I would not say that I learnt anything,” he said in a low voice.
“I am too conservative an investor for your brother’s liking, and we had nothing to talk about since he has no mind for anything other than what can be bought and sold on the Exchange.
He could not even remember the verses he wrote for your sister when I asked him his thoughts on poetry. ”
Jane finished with the tea and joined them, and, until Mrs Cuthbert interrupted, they passed the time pleasantly as Darcy made pains to know her sister.