Page 46 of Most Truly the Gentleman

“We frequently discuss books.”

Mrs Bennet frowned, incapable of finding romance in such a subject. “Books? What a thing to speak of with an eligible gentleman! I suppose it is too much to expect that a man who insulted your appearance when first you met should change his mind so very greatly as to marry you, though. Still, if he likes you, he will introduce you to his other friends, when Jane takes you to London! I shall insist she do so once she is married to Mr Bingley, and you will at last find a husband.” She nodded decisively. “You have my permission to speak with him on any subject he cares to raise, Lizzy. He is a valuable connexion. Keep him happy.”

“I shall do my very best, Mama, I assure you.”

Mrs Bennet then turned to Jane with a great deal of advice on how she might induce a proposal from Mr Bingley. In the dim moonlight slanting through the carriage window, Mr Bennet raised a single eyebrow at Elizabeth. Her reply was a wink, at which he looked surprised, then thoughtful.

Released from her mother’s attention, Elizabeth was free to recollect her dances with Mr Darcy, who seemed, against all conventional expectation, to have become her suitor. Their first dance had begun in silence, until she teased him that everyone would think they were quarrelling if they had not some little conversation. He had smiled and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said. She had then asked his opinion as to whether the heat of Miss Bingley’s glare might actually set one or the other of them aflame before the set ended. He had laughed, openly, and drawn the startled attention of many by this unusual display.

They had spoken of nothing in particular after that—comments on the music, the decorations, the many pleasures of the Christmas season which was now ending. They had spoken, she thought, almost entirely as an excuse to smile, for to dance in silence with such happy expressions would have appeared quite silly and would likely have been far more revealing than either of them would have found comfortable.

Their entrance into the final dance of the night caused a stir, and the many pairs of surprised eyes upon them rendered even Elizabeth largely mute for the opening measures. When she resolved to pay attention to her partner rather than her neighbours, and focused upon Mr Darcy, she found him looking serious and thoughtful.

“What is it you are pondering in the middle of a dance, sir?” she asked lightly, covering the creeping fear that all those avid gazes had caused him to regret this second dance.

His lips twitched with a repressed smile, and he lightly squeezed her hand. “Gloves,” he replied.

Surprised, she laughed. “And what about them were you considering so intently?”

“I was thinking that I generally do not notice them, but at the present moment, I quite despise them.”

She understood him instantly, for she, too, wished they might join hands in the dance without two layers of fabric in between. She blushed, but did not hesitate to reply, “I see we are once again in complete agreement, Mr Darcy.”

The dance separated them for a moment, and when they faced each other once more, he said, “I hope, Miss Elizabeth, that complete agreement may be our usual state going forward.”

“I see no reason why it should not be.”

The expression of heartfelt delight which then diffused over his face became him excellently well, and she could not but return his smile with one of her own. Though they had spoken obliquely, she felt they understood each other perfectly, and furthermore, that his understanding matched her own. She was in love with Mr Darcy; he was in love with her. The rest was only a succession of details which would be managed at some time or another, and so long as it was soon, she did not much care how it came about. What truly mattered had been decided and declared.

29

THREE ENGAGEMENTS AND A WEDDING

Elizabeth was sitting in the parlour with her family the day after the assembly, when Sir William and Lady Lucas called with their eldest daughter. Though it was the habit of the Lucas ladies to visit with those of Longbourn the day after an assembly, the presence of Sir William was as unusual as the absence of Maria. All became clear when Sir William proudly announced that Charlotte was now betrothed to Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Mrs Bennet, possessing all the satisfaction of a daughter already engaged, and having never seriously considered the colonel for any of her other daughters, displayed none of the spleen which might have attended such an announcement in different circumstances. Lydia’s expression at hearing the news was as sour as a ripe lemon, but her father’s presence seemed to restrain her, for she said nothing. The remaining sisters were warm in their congratulations and sincerely happy for Miss Lucas.

“Did he propose this morning?” Elizabeth asked.

“Last night at the assembly,” Charlotte replied, smiling and blushing. “We walked about the assembly rooms during the last set; he brought me underneath the mistletoe, kissed me, and asked me to marry him. I said that I would, and this morning he visited my father and received his blessing. We intend to marry in the third week of February, so that we might have at least a fortnight together before he is needed in Warwickshire to oversee the planting at the estate he is to inherit from his great-aunt, and of which he is to act as master from then on.”

This unexpected information created a clamour as great as the news of the betrothal. Everyone demanded to know of this estate, and how the colonel’s prospects had undergone such a revolution. Charlotte circumspectly replied that he had only recently been legally made the lady’s heir, and he had not liked to speak of the possibility before it was settled.

When the Lucases departed to call upon the Gouldings with their news, “Well! Had I known he was to have more than his half-pay, I should have tried to get him for one of you girls!” Mrs Bennet exclaimed, entirely forgetting that she used to be quite fond of militia officers with much less. “Those artful Lucases had no business snatching up an eligible gentleman when I still have four daughters to marry off, and they have only two!”

“That attitude, my dear, is no doubt why the colonel chose to keep the truth of his situation a secret,” Mr Bennet remarked.

Despite the mutual avoidance between the Harringtons and their neighbours since the scandal broke around Miss Harrington, most of the four and twenty gentle families of the area appeared at the church for her wedding the next morning. The bride was pale and trembling, the groom stiff and grim. There would be no wedding breakfast. The unhappy ceremony had an effect on Lydia, who might so easily have found herself in a similar position; she was silent and solemn throughout and retreated to her room without a word when they returned to Longbourn. Elizabeth felt a little sorry for her, for she thought that Lydia’s confidence that life must only hold good things for a pretty, lively girl had been well and truly shaken. Though she did not expect this to have much of a lasting effect upon her sister, she did hope that some echo of this day might remain with Lydia when she was next in the company of a handsome man inclined to flirt.

Mr Bingley, it seemed, was not long to be outdone by his guest, for he presented himself to Mr Bennet later that very day, requesting a private audience with his eldest daughter. The outcome of that interview could not be doubted by anyone, and the joy which greeted the announcement of Jane’s engagement was unalloyed with surprise. Mrs Bennet, of course, was in ecstasy, and spoke of dividing her time between Longbourn and Netherfield when Mr Bennet was dead. That gentleman—still very much alive, thank you!—meanwhile exercised his wit upon the couple, teasing that they were so easy that every servant would cheat them and so generous that they would always exceed their income.

That evening, as they readied for bed, Elizabeth remarked to Jane that she must be firm early in her marriage, for both her mother and her future sister were likely to attempt to usurp her place as mistress of her husband’s home.

“I shall not allow anyone to prevent me from upholding my duties,” Jane replied. Elizabeth smiled; she had expected such a reply. Jane always wished to please those around her, but she would not be moved when she knew herself to be right.

“It is unlikely to be a concern for long, at any rate,” Jane added after a momentary silence.

“Oh?”