Page 27 of Most Truly the Gentleman

“Nonsense,” he replied. “You were my partner for the supper set. What sort of gentleman could I call myself if I left you now?”

She smiled and blushed and accepted his escort. They sat with Bingley and Miss Bennet, Mr Lucas and Miss Elizabeth, and his cousin Darcy, who had not danced the supper set. With such resources of wit and intelligence as this assemblage offered, the meal passed with a great deal of good conversation and more than a little laughter.

Alerted by his earlier conversation with Miss Lucas, Fitzwilliam kept a discreet watch on his cousin during the meal. He looked at Miss Elizabeth quite a bit, even when others were talking. As for the lady, she paid Darcy a bit more attention than she gave the others, but that could easily be attributed to the fact that, of the gentlemen seated next to her, Darcy was the one she had not known all her life.

He hoped very much that his cousin knew what he was about. Fitzwilliam would hate to see him injured by a conflict between his heart and his expectations, particularly as he was reasonably certain that the latter would win.

The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr Collins made his declaration in form, and a pink-cheeked Mary Bennet accepted him with as great a display of eagerness as her highly reserved disposition would allow.

“Oh! Oh!” Mrs Bennet cried when she was informed of the engagement. “You have saved us all, my dear girl! I have always said you could not be so spiritual for nothing!”

Even Mary could do naught but stare at her mother in bafflement following this piece of ridiculousness, but the lady was too happy to notice anyone else.

“You will be a clergyman’s wife—nothing could be more perfect! And you will keep company with a great lady, who may perhaps be induced to take an interest in your sisters! Do not neglect to mention them to her, Mary. Jane will be well settled, and Lydia must be admired wherever she goes, but I know not how I shall get Elizabeth and Kitty married without help. I rely on you and Jane to exercise your connexions for their benefit,” she declared. “And when your father dies, you will return to Longbourn and take care of your old mother.”

As Mrs Bennet detailed her expectations for the future, which seemed to include remaining mistress of Longbourn in all but name after her husband shuffled off his mortal coil, Jane, Elizabeth, and Kitty gave their own, quieter congratulations to their sister. Lydia, presumably sulking over missing the ball, had yet to make an appearance downstairs, and must yet be unaware of the morning’s events.

Bashfully, Mary ventured what might be a sensitive subject. “You do not mind, do you, Lizzy? He paid you a great deal of attention the first few days he was here.”

“Mind? How could I, when the two of you are so much better suited?” Elizabeth replied sincerely. “I feel nothing but happiness for you both.”

Mary smiled contentedly. “That is well, then. I should not like to be at odds with one of my sisters over a gentleman.”

Mr Bennet entered the room then, a visibly delighted Mr Collins at his side, and announced that he had agreed to the engagement. He then sardonically instructed his wife not to bankrupt him with the arrangements.

“Bankrupt you!” the lady exclaimed. “I never would! We cannot be caught short when it is Jane’s turn!”

“Do not bankrupt me then, either,” he retorted.

“I believe Mr Collins and I would prefer a simple ceremony and breakfast,” Mary interjected, “as befits a clergyman. Worldly trappings hold little interest for either of us.”

Mr Collins hurried to his betrothed’s side and raised her hand to his lips. “Indeed, my flower, indeed.” He raised his head and beamed upon the family. “My dear Mary and I have but one mind and one way of thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each other,” he pronounced fatuously.

“So it would appear,” remarked Mr Bennet.

Later, when they were private in the room they shared, Jane said, “Tell me the truth, Lizzy—do you truly think Mary has made the right decision, or are you merely relieved that you are not in her place?”

“She seems to really like him,” Elizabeth replied, “and even I will admit that he means well. Mr Collins does have a tiny bit of sense, and Mary has a little more. One must hope that they will encourage each other in its use, and not become increasingly more foolish together.” She shrugged and smiled. “Whichever path they take, they at least will be happy; I feel quite satisfied on that point. My concern rests largely with the comfort of those around them.”

“Surely becoming parents will increase their maturity, and thereby their sense.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “As a counter-argument, I present to you: our mother.”

Jane stifled a laugh even as she chided, “Lizzy, that is unkind!”

“But true.” Elizabeth dropped backwards onto the bed with a great sigh. “I must begin to seriously look about me for a husband, I think. Though I like Mr Collins much better as a cousin and future brother than I ever did as a suitor, I do not wish to live with him when Papa is gone.”

“If I am so fortunate as to see the realisation of my present hopes,” Jane offered shyly, “I feel certain you would always be welcome in our home. Do anything but marry for prudence, Lizzy.”

She levered herself up onto her elbows and smiled at her sister. “Thank you, Jane, and have no fear. I mean only to ask my uncle Gardiner if I might visit for a time, perhaps after Christmas, and be introduced to more of his circle. There is no one here for me, so if I am to fall in love, I think it must happen in London. Or perhaps I shall like one of Mr Bingley’s friends. I am sure he must have several we have not yet met with.”

18

A SOJOURN IN LONDON

The three gentlemen set out from Netherfield at mid-morning, leaving Bingley’s sisters in Hurst’s care. They were all to stay at Darcy House and were using Darcy’s carriage, leaving Bingley’s with his relations, not that any of them expected that the ladies or Hurst would choose to stir from the house.

Bingley and Fitzwilliam soon fell asleep, but despite having had no more sleep than they, Darcy remained wakeful, considering the problem of Elizabeth Bennet. He had vowed to be civil, perhaps even friendly, but no more; to keep her at arm’s length and assiduously avoid the raising of any expectations, on her part or on others’. What had he done instead? He had singled her out as his first dance partner of the evening, though at least he had displayed the sense to secure a set from Miss Lucas as well. None could now say he had only danced with one of the local ladies. But then he had sat next to her at dinner and directed much of his conversation towards her. Perhaps it had not looked so particular as it had felt; some of the conversation had been general, including Bingley and Fitzwilliam and their dinner partners also.