“The sort that men marry! And, in any case I do not wish to marry. Why would I give some man the right to own me?” she demanded, indignantly.
“Well, which is it then, Mary? That you are not the sort that men marry? Or that you are not the sort who wishes to marry?”
“It can be both,” Mary said, stubbornly.
“And if the Colonel offered for you?”
Mary looked away.
Elizabeth sighed. “Very well, Mary. But think about it, please. He is an honourable man, a good man, an intelligent man, and one who has shown a good deal of interest in you.” And my husband is giving you a dowry, she thought, but she would try to leave it for William to tell Mary of his generosity.
***
The day came for the journey to Cresston Hall to begin. Mr. Darcy was still pleading with Elizabeth for her to change her mind and allow him to join her, right up to the last minute, but she was adamant. As the carriage pulled away, Elizabeth turned to look behind her. Her beloved William was watching the carriage, looking very unhappy; Georgiana was waving her handkerchief, her face hopeful.
Mary sighed. “I cannot believe I am in a carriage again.”
“I am sorry, Mary; I do know that I rather forced this upon you.”
“You did, yes; but I think I can be of assistance in this matter and am happy to do so. Have you considered what you will say to her?”
“I have rehearsed ten different speeches in my mind, but I think a good deal will depend on how she receives us. Perhaps she will throw us out of the house before I even open my mouth.”
“Yes, that is possible.”
“Which, in many ways, would be the best thing to happen,” Elizabeth said, with a touch of bitterness.
“For you, yes; but for your husband and new sister?”
Elizabeth sighed and stared out the window.
Mary continued, “And if you truly felt that way, you would not have offered to go on this journey to make peace with the woman.”
“I suppose you are right. Come, let us talk of something else.”
“Very well, as long as that something else is not Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
Elizabeth shook her head, leaving Mary to her own thoughts. In truth, Mary did not know what to think or how to feel about the Colonel. She had long ago defined herself asnotthe pretty one,notthe clever one,notthe lively one. She wasnoteven the studious one, as that title had been claimed by Lizzy. It was, she had begun to realise, a long series ofnots. But now she was beginning to think that – just perhaps – none of thosenotswere true.
It had been a mistake, she now understood, to downplay her looks. No, she did not have Jane’s golden curls, nor Lizzy’s shining mahogany locks and gorgeous dark eyes, nor Lydia’s buxom figure. But now that she had allowed Lizzy and Kate to have charge of her, she saw that she had a flawless complexion that showed to best advantage when she wore pastels, nut-brown hair that would take a curl if one’s maid had clever fingers, and a figure that showed to advantage with the right gowns.
And with all those things, a very respectable man, the son of anEarl, for heaven’s sake, was interested in her! But could she trust him enough to commit her entire life to him? Once married, she would become his property, and he could do with her as he liked.
This was why, she now understood, that Jane and Lizzy had decided to marry only for love; if a man loved you, odds were greater that he would treat you well. If you loved him, then the whole business of procreation became eminently more tolerable. Her sisters were not, she now realised, being romantic; they were being practical.
How much I did not understand, Mary thought. How much wiser Lizzy is than I imagined her to be. With that thought in her mind, she turned to her sister and said, abruptly, “Should I marry him, do you think?”
“I thought that was a forbidden subject,” Elizabeth replied, her eyes twinkling in amusement.
“I am now unforbidding it – I know that is not a word, you need not admonish me! – but I am eager to know your thoughts.”
“The sad truth is that if a woman does not marry, she is an object of scorn in our society.”
“Unless she is very wealthy,” Mary added.
“Yes. Oh, Mary, you are welcome to live at Pemberley with me forever, but do you think that would satisfy you?” Elizabeth spoke rapidly, passionately. “To watch my children laugh and play, to watch me go upstairs with my husband every night, and to go to your own bed alone? No, I believe you would not be content with that. So if the Colonel makes you an offer, I think you should say yes, thank you very much!”
“But can he afford to marry? I do not need much, Lizzy, but I should like my own home.”
