Chapter 25
Sisterly Affection
Mary Collins stepped into her parlour to find a large assortment of pasteboard boxes surrounding a disassembled dollhouse, and Elizabeth sitting on the floor, tears rolling down her face.
She shooed her husband past and went to her sister.
Mr Collins glanced at the tableau and did as he was bid.
He was a man with enough sense to stay out of women’s business.
If they wanted his help, they would ask for it.
Mary walked boldly forward, at least as boldly as she could without stepping on any boxes, sat down beside her sister, and put an arm round her shoulders. “It seems you had a delivery, a visitor, or both. Which has reduced you to tears, my dear?”
Elizabeth snuffled morosely. “As to the first question, both: a delivery and a visitor. As to the tears… I imagine they come from both, though they are vastly different tears for different reasons.”
Mary looked around in confusion.
“Let us start with the easiest. This beautiful dollhouse is Jane’s engagement announcement.”
Mary smiled in pure joy and squeezed her sister even harder with both hands. “I am so—so very happy!”
The dollhouse perplexed her, so Elizabeth said, “It makes sense to me, but I cannot tell you why.”
Mary edged closer and peered inside at the dolls.
“You did not tell me you endured a second awkward matrimonial conversation—though I shall certainly not fault you. It seems obvious that you somehow pointed two stubbornly private people in the right direction, so this must be thanks as well as announcement?”
Elizabeth laughed. “You are entirely too clever for your own good. You are correct, but we shall speak of that story no more. Their situation has resolved itself as it should.”
“You approve of Mr Jameson?”
“Of course I approve, though it is not really my place.”
Mary smiled and put the kettle on. At Longbourn, nobody ever made their own tea over the fireplace, but in Hunsford Cottage, with only one maid-of-all-work and a cook, it was the done thing.
While the water heated, Mary said, “I can understand tears of happiness for Jane, but that was not what I observed.”
“I suppose not. Your guess was correct. I had a visitor, and it has left me… disconcerted.”
“You are far beyond disconcerted, my dear, though I cannot think of a mathematical way to express it.”
Elizabeth giggled slightly. “Who will lift me out of my funks when you are surrounded by little Williams and Marys?”
Mary blushed. “Odd you should ask. I cannot promise you lots of them, but all signs point to one in the autumn. I felt the quickening just this evening. You are the first to know. I have not even told William yet.”
Elizabeth’s face lit with such happiness that she looked ready to jump up and dance—very carefully, round the big boxes—but she only smiled and hugged Mary’s legs.
Elizabeth opened her mouth, plainly ready to chatter about the baby, but Mary gave her the closest approximation to sternness she could manage.
“I am glad you have years to perfect the stern mother look,” Elizabeth laughed. “That one is not the least bit frightening.”
Mary laughed along, but the underlying tension her sister tried to disguise with humour was evident, and Mary was having none of it.
“All right, enough procrastination. How did your Mr Darcy leave you in tears?”
“Well, as I previously asserted, he is not my Mr Darcy… less so now than ever.”
“What did he do? Do not tell me he offended you or did something improper!”
“No, no… There is nothing to censure him for… I—”
She paused, let a few tears fall, wiped them away, and carried on.
“He told me he admires me and loves me… then proceeded to tell me in excruciating detail how inferior I am, then asserted he would overlook all those things if I would marry him.”
Mary stared at her sister a moment, not nearly as surprised as one might think.
“I agree that is horrible, but… well… you never told me about William’s efforts, though you see that, in the end, he was not irredeemable. Was it that bad?”
“Objectively, the two were similar. You have no idea how lucky you were. You just wanted a roof over your head and a respectable position, but you were exceedingly fortunate with William.”
“And you think Mr Darcy has no hidden depths?”
“The thing is… I think I knew, though I would not acknowledge it to myself, that your William was mostly just awkward… as Mr Darcy is, in truth. However, in objective fact, you are William’s equal, and it took him almost no time to work it out.
Mr Darcy, on the other hand, thinks me definitely inferior, which, by the measures he is accustomed to, I am.
Where William was getting an elegant, well-educated gentlewoman who raised his consequence, Mr Darcy would be getting an oddly educated, singular woman of less elegance, who would lower his. In the end, he would resent me.”
“Are you certain? All it took was the right wife to bring William out of his shell.”
“I can only look at the facts. At the beginning… well… at the very beginning, there was something. It was the beginning of something beautiful, something meaningful; but then, within a minute or two, he stomped it into the dust. I can assure you that, had you been in the room, you could not have heard William’s proposal either.
You were spared hearing it; I was not. Some things are very difficult to forget. ”
“All the same, I ask again. Is there not a chance Mr Darcy might be redeemable?”
Elizabeth sighed. “I have not just been wallowing. I have also been thinking hard. I asked myself the same question over and over, and—”
“Go on.”
“Perhaps there might be, but I am not willing to be his downfall. Look at it this way. Your William knew you only 8 days before your engagement and paid no attention to you for 6 of those. It took him but 3 weeks to become the man you see now. Mr Darcy has known me 5 months. We spent 4 days in the same house at Netherfield, and we have been in company for weeks here in Hunsford. He has met me in the park far more than is proper, and in all that time, he never came to a true understanding of who I am and what I need. He never once asked about my feelings. Should I hope the pure power of my charms might make him a better man?”
Mary stared at her sister for a moment, then sat on the sofa and leaned her chin into her hands. Flippant answers were not her forte; clearly, she meant to think it through.
The kettle boiled, and Elizabeth prepared the tea, giving her sister time.
When she returned several minutes later, Mary asked, “I assume you declined him. How brutal were you? I know you have a temper.”
“I was as kind and gentle as I could possibly be. You would hardly have recognised me.”
“So, there is no hope?”
“Perhaps, had I been even more moderate, I might have held him off for a short time, or asked for a courtship instead of an engagement, or delayed my answer, but… I… I… I just could not… not in that moment. I am terrified of becoming our mother. I know it is irrational, as you and I both have 10 times her good sense, but… but… I cannot enter such an unequal union.”
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I need a strong husband, just as you need William and he needs you. Mr Darcy does not need anyone. He wants me, but that is far from the same as needing me. He said outright that he spent months fighting the attraction. His family, his friends, society, and even his better judgement would all oppose me. I do not… I cannot… Mary, I cannot be the spoils of a lost battle. I do not know if it is my pride or my self-respect, but I… I just cannot.”
Mary took a few sips of her tea.
“Even if I could… which I cannot… no man would ever propose a second time. Of that, I am certain.”
“I am not so sure, but it seems… unlikely.”
They sat sipping their tea until Mary asked, “Are they tears of relief, loss, pain, or joy?”
“Yes.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, and at last Elizabeth said, “Do you know the worst part?”
“What was that, Lizzy?”
“There was a moment, a short, fleeting moment, when my heart started to… not to soar, as the poets say, but to… I do not know how to say it… not soar per se, but… it became aware that soaring was possible. For just a moment, I was intrigued by… potential… possibilities.”
“And you think it now impossible because of one awkwardly worded proposal?”
“It is not that simple. It was not the 5 minutes of the proposal… it is the 4 months he spent, by his own admission, trying his absolute best to escape the trap of his irrational and unreasonable infatuation. It is the years and years and years of being the mighty oak to the maul of his family’s expectations.
I cannot… no… I will not compete with that…
but just for a moment… just for the most fleeting moment…
even if it was only an instant… I felt I might. ”
“I cannot fault you, Lizzy… I truly cannot. You could not change your nature any more than he could, and while it might have been possible for the two of you to have a truly great love story, there are just too many things against you.”
Elizabeth hugged her sister. “Enough! So, you feel fluttering and spasms! Shall I call for your salts?”
With smiles and gentle laughter, both sisters cried a little. They got up, carefully reassembled the dollhouse, and put the big boxes back together.
Elizabeth considered leaving on the post the next day, to make Mr Darcy’s leave-taking easier, but that would say the wrong thing.
She would walk as she always did. She would be in the parsonage for callers, as she always was. She would… she would… she would… she would resume her life—but it would never be quite the same.