Page 6 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
“Well,” said Mrs. Bennet, “we must have them all for dinner, the entire party, including Mr. Bingley’s sisters.”
“Oh, yes,” cried the Lucas girls in agreement.
“Wouldn’t it be something if a true connection came of it?” said Mrs. Bennet, smiling at Jane. “To think, two of my girls settled and safe.”
The conversation went on, interrupted by one of the Lucas boys who wished to say that if he were as rich as Mr. Darcy, he should spend no time dancing with boring ladies and quite all of his time hunting, and that he should have ever so many hunting dogs.
Elizabeth remained mostly quiet, however, scolding herself for having said the things she’d said aloud. They all seemed embarrassing now. She had not had time to reflect on how she felt about the evening and to compose the proper things to say.
She did get the chance, once the conversation was breaking up, to speak to Charlotte with no other ears listening. She apologized for not saving Charlotte from Mr. Thane, and Charlotte said this was hardly Elizabeth’s responsibility. It was not as if Elizabeth did not occasionally have to dance with Mr. Thane, also, but the truth was that Mr. Thane never leered quite the same way at Elizabeth. When Elizabeth said she was sorry for taking Mr. Bingley’s attention from Charlotte, her friend laughed this away.
“I am old, Lizzy, and it was quite unlikely a man like Mr. Bingley would ever have been interested in someone like me.”
“You’re not old,” Elizabeth countered.
Charlotte only laughed. “You know, sometimes, I wonder about Mr. Thane.”
“Charlotte!”
“I’m only saying, if he were to agree to take care of me, to take me on, and he does seem to have the means for such a thing, it may be the only way that I shall ever get out of my parents’ house. He might pay for a small cottage for me, and if there are children—”
“Charlotte, you would never be allowed to visit your parents again,” said Elizabeth. “Nor to visit me. I should have to condemn you—”
“Yes, of course, of course,” said Charlotte, now very grave. “You’re right.”
They were both silent, as they thought of the truth of it, their precarious futures. They were supposed to find husbands and leave and flourish, but here they were, stunted, as the years passed and stole their youthful charms.
Later, Elizabeth and Jane spoke as they were getting ready for bed.
“You must tell me, Lizzy,” Jane said, with some anxiety, “for I do not see it, and I am growing fond of him. I cannot say there is any reason for me to form some attachment, of course, but this is all the more reason for you to explain to me why you do not like him.”
“What are you on about?” said Elizabeth, undoing her sister’s stays. They often helped each other undress in the absence of a maid, since the family could not afford enough servants to see to all of the girls equally and their mother.
“Mr. Darcy, of course!” Jane turned around, pulling her stays out of Elizabeth’s reach.
“Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, blinking.
“You don’t like him.”
“I…” Elizabeth shrugged. Her feelings on this matter were entirely confusing, truth be told. “I like him.”
“Lizzy, you do not, and I shan’t listen to you lie to me in this manner, just to spare my feelings. What is it about him?”
“He’s too handsome!” Elizabeth didn’t even know why she’d said this, even as she also knew it was true. He was too handsome, and too rich, and too in possession of a sonorous, deep voice, a liquid voice, like the pour of rich morningchocolate. Too, well, perfect.
Jane scoffed.
Elizabeth reached for her sister’s stays again and began to work at them as best she could. “There must be something wrong with him, that is all. No one is that perfect.”
“Oh? And Mr. Bingley? You are not searching for his faults?”
“Oh, his faults are rather evident. He is not a serious man, I don’t think. He does not read. He has little imagination. He is easily convinced to change his mind. He has few strong convictions.”
“You don’t like Mr. Bingley?”
“I like him fine,” said Elizabeth, who had evaluated Mr. Bingley as flawed but adequate. She could marry this man if need be. It was likely that she’d never get a better chance than this. To deny a man like that if he truly was interested in her, would have been abundantly stupid, especially if she even would have considered the idea because someone like Mr. Darcy had that voice of his.
Anyway, it was all stupidity on her part, considering marriage.
