Chapter Twenty One #2
They looked at each other, and she felt her smile going wide across her face as he looked at her with that warm approving gaze. She was, in fact, exceedingly fortunate in her husband.
She wished to do something, something sweet, affectionate and caring for him to reward him for how he kept his temper in front of her mother. He could not like how Mama spoke any more than Elizabeth did.
She was not quite sure what best she could do for him though.
Seduce him.
They all sat down around the tables that had been brought out. A great deal of fruit and salads and cold soups were set out, with wine brought up from the cool cellars.
As they set to eating the soup, Mrs. Bennet apologized several times for the quality of the kitchen saying, “Mr. Bennet had us dismiss our old chef, and hire one who only charged half so much. And we have not given him a permanent assistant. I do not say that he was wrong to do so—he was most concerned after Elizabeth eloped with poor Wickham—do not look at me in that manner, Lizzy, I shall always be sure he was misused by both you and my husband.”
“I assure you,” Papa said from the head of the table, “I would have never used him in any other way.”
Papa had Emily on his lap, and he encouraged the girl to eat her soup with her own spoon—some great portion of that soup naturally ended up on his coat and pants. Papa looked quite happy, though he was clearly a little annoyed with his wife.
Elizabeth tilted her head curiously. “You do know the tale of how he died, and that it was my husband involved in a key manner. And that he is sitting right here?”
“Oh, yes! A duel. Very romantic. And so terribly sad—but I understand. Dueling over women is a natural thing, and he must have loved you very much to do so.”
“What?” Elizabeth replied in surprise.
“Oh, do not tell me that nonsense about a sister.” Mama smiled at Darcy. “I know that you must have been motivated by love. A man never thinks anything of his sister in any case. Or his daughters. They are never of any importance.”
“I do like the story,” Mr. Darcy agreed.
He smiled at Elizabeth, and briefly touched her on the knee, clearly perceiving that every part of this conversation was unpleasant to her.
“It is the one I would wish to believe if I were not one of the principal persons, and thus aware of the true facts. I have heard it spoken a half dozen times. I merely note that at the time I fought Mr. Wickham, I believed that there was no such creature as Mrs. Wickham, and that I did not see Elizabeth for the first time until the next afternoon.”
“But then…” Mama lowered her voice, and glanced over at Georgiana, who sat next to Mr. Bennet, “I cannot believe that—”
“Mama, let us not speak about this topic,” Elizabeth said sharply.
“Tell me more about everything here—what do you plan for our stay. You said we would have a great many dinners?—after we finish lunch, you must help me pick which of my dresses will be best for each—you do know that we shall have Mr. Darcy’s friend, Mr. Bingley, visit in two days when he comes down to look at Netherfield. ”
That ended any unwanted lines of conversation for the time being, as Elizabeth was inundated with requests for definite information about Mr. Binlgey’s estate and heart—though his intention to take Netherfield (for Mrs. Bennet was positive that he would be delighted with the place) was proof of a decent fortune.
Elizabeth rather feared that her mother would run on in unpleasant ways every time she had the opportunity, but really, Darcy did not seem to mind, so why should she?
It would be silly if she let herself feel embarrassed by her mother after everything that she had experienced over the years since she had married Wickham.
Her mother was her mother, and she loved her. Even if Mama’s advice, assumptions, and questions were all matters that she would have preferred to hear nothing about, Elizabeth felt a deep warm happiness in looking at her.
Unlike Papa, who Elizabeth thought looked somehow more vigorous and younger than when she had left, Mama looked older and faded. In Elizabeth’s memory Mama had always been a shining beautiful woman, the height of fashion.
And she was still beautiful, and at the height of fashion. From her dress, Mama clearly had received current intelligence about the present fashionable length of sleeves and the use of lace around the neckline. But there were more wrinkles, more tiredness, and a general look of being older.
And it was interesting to Elizabeth that her mother chiefly was interested in Mr. Darcy, while Papa chiefly occupied himself with his grandchildren.
Perhaps this was part of why, even though Elizabeth knew that she had many aspects of her mother’s character and appearance, that she had always thought of herself as far more like to her father than her mother.
After they had finished the outdoors lunch, they all went into the house. The trunk with the gifts had been set by the servants in the middle of the drawing room, and Elizabeth opened it up with some ceremony.
“If you do not like these gifts,” Elizabeth said to them all, “you must blame Mrs. Gardiner. I depended upon her advice in determining what to buy. I had completely forgotten to purchase everything until yesterday morning. Being in town was such a whirl, and we were there for such a little time.”
“Oh, I do not mind,” Lydia said. “I would be too busy to even remember on the last day to buy presents if I was in town for two weeks and able to do anything I wished to.”
Fortunately, it seemed that Mrs. Gardiner’s choices of what to buy everyone were quite good. She had bought a great many books of sheet music and several collections of sermons for Mary.
Lace for Jane, though Jane did not need anything to look exceedingly well.
Ribbons and shawls for Lydia and Kitty—though they would not be able to display them, as Papa was completely insistent on not letting them out into society until they were older.
After the gifts were handed around Mary and Georgiana went to the piano to plan out a duet, Mama finally showed an interest in George and Emily by insisting they eat cake, and that it of course would not bother her at all if George threw any or all of the vases in the drawing room to the ground.
Papa called to Elizabeth and Darcy. “Let’s retreat to the library for a bit—business matters, dear,” he said on seeing Mama look inquiringly towards them. “We’ll just be an hour or two.”
“What can Lizzy have to do with business?” Mama asked dismissively. “Lizzy, let us look at your dresses now, while these darling children have their desserts.”
“Ah, I shall need Lizzy for this matter,” Mr. Bennet said, and he took Elizabeth’s arm and led her into the old familiar library. It had the same smell, the same windows, the same portrait of her grandfather over the fireplace.
Elizabeth sighed with delight, and started to look over the bookshelves, to say hello to old friends, and make acquaintance with new titles.
“What is the matter?” Darcy inquired, settling into a chair next to Papa’s desk.
“What? Oh,” Mr. Bennet grinned. “I chiefly said that so you two might have a little quiet. You both looked a little tired. But you do insist on scrupulous honesty. Hmmmm. Have you found purchasing clay pipes to set up drainage for your fields to pay out quickly enough?”
“I think the ground around here is different, so I do not know that my experience would match—in any case, the fields for which it would be worth doing had all been done in my father’s day.”
Rather to her surprise Elizabeth found that many of the proudest items of Papa’s antiquarian collection were missing.
He seemed to catch the drift of her thoughts, and explained, “The old Johnson, and the original Paradise Lost have been sold. A great deal of similar books also.”
“You did that for me?” Elizabeth exclaimed, even more surprised than before.
Papa flushed. “Well, I suppose, yes. Yes. But for all of you girls, not only you.”
She embraced Papa. “Such sufferings have you endured.”
He laughed. “You know that it is nothing of the sort.”
“It still was significant,” Elizabeth said stoutly. “And a deep show of concern for us.”
“Ah, what does it matter,” Mr. Bennet said. “A newer copy of any book is better to read, for I have no fear of damaging it.”
“I think I know what I shall buy for your next gift,” Elizabeth said.
Mr. Bennet rubbed his hands. “Should you wish to buy me old, rare, and precious books, I confess that I would not take any offence—Mr. Darcy, I believe you have said that you have an extensive family library yourself.”
“It covers a large room in two levels,” Darcy replied. “The ancestor of mine who built Pemberley also had a love for reading and books, and he designed the room to make his collection appear as impressive as he might.”
“Well, well, well. I dare say—after you are settled in, Lizzy—that I must visit. To see how my daughter gets on.”
“Yes, of course.” Elizabeth said, “And if you only happen, by happenstance, to find yourself in the library for an hour, or two, or perhaps a whole month of hours together, that would simply be coincidence.”
Papa laughed. “Exactly. And I shall visit, and oftener than you expect.”
“I would like to see you frequently,” Darcy said.
“My wife—she rather cannot tell what is to be talked about from what is not. While I have troubled myself to curb her spending, I have not made any effort to curb her tongue. But I think that of the two, the one I chose gives more benefit to us all, and less unhappiness to her. I do not repent, especially as I rather enjoy listening to her speak.”
“Even if—” Darcy fell silent and glanced at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth answered for her father, “I hope that the conversation in our marriage will provide both of us different pleasures, but as you have likely observed, my papa enjoys to watch interesting characters.”