“I see; so you are searching for a young lady with Miss Elizabeth’s qualities in theton, is that it?”
“That is it.” But Mr. Darcy’s voice sounded just a touch uncertain.
“Have you met many such young ladies in the past? You have spent innumerable hours in equally innumerable ballrooms. How many such young ladies have you found?”
Mr. Darcy was silent.
“That is what I thought,” the Colonel said, with considerable satisfaction.
“Your mother is preparing a list for me.”
“My mother and her lists! Let me guess – this is a list of eligible candidates to fill the role of Mrs. Darcy?”
“Just so.”
“I believe we must have met a few of them at the ball we attended when we were in town gathering Wickham’s debts; did you enjoy meeting them?”
“You know I did not, but there are a good many other young ladies on your mother’s list.”
“I wash my hands of you, Darcy, I truly do. You are not rational as you claim to be, you are merely stubborn. Franklin, you have been entirely silent; what say you of your master’s stubbornness?” This was addressed the Mr. Darcy’s valet, who – of course – had been silent throughout the conversation.
“Nothing whatever, Colonel; indeed, I have been admiring the scenery and have heard not one word of your discussion.”
“The perfect valet! If you are ever weary of being in Mr. Darcy’s service, you are welcome to join mine. We would have grand adventures on the battlefield, Franklin.”
The look of horror on Franklin’s face caused both Mr. Darcy and the Colonel to chuckle.
Mr. Darcy said, “May we consider this subject closed?”
“That subject, yes; but tell me, what of Wickham?”
Mr. Darcy recounted for his cousin the steps he had taken, ending with, “I shall speak to my attorney in London on the subject before I leave for Pemberley, and instruct him to see the matter through to the end.”
“Wickham will finally be off the streets. Hurrah! England is a safer place as a result.”
***
As Mr. Darcy had planned, he spent exactly one day and one night at Matlock House. He spoke to his attorney, who assured him that Wickham was already in a spunging-house, and could be expected to be imprisoned in a fortnight.
Mr. Darcy then bid his relatives farewell, and headed home, home at last to Pemberley.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Acold November became an even colder December. By the middle of that frigid December, the banns for Mary and Mr. Collins had been read three times. Mr. Collins had left Longbourn, briefly, to inform his patroness of his success in wooing a Bennet daughter and to make whatever adjustments to his cottage he deemed necessary for it to be suitable to receive a bride. But now he was back at Longbourn and the wedding was to take place the following day.
Jane had been cast into the shade, as far as Mrs. Bennet was concerned, for Mary’s triumph of keeping the estate in the family was all the greater for its having been so unexpected.
Elizabeth understood that Mr. Darcy had been instrumental in moving Mr. Collins’ attention from herself to Mary, and despite her sorrow and anger, she was grateful to him for that kindness. If the rest of her family had known of this, doubtless they would have been grateful as well, for if Mr. Collins had not been so directed, Elizabeth would have been forced to refuse him, leaving Mr. Collins free to focus his attentions elsewhere. Where might he have ended up? Mary King, perhaps; Mr. Collins had been quite interested in her freckles.
Mary’s dress was ready, as was her headpiece. Her flowers were in a vase of fresh water, and Kitty had been tasked with making certain that they all looked fresh the next day.
Mama made a fuss of pulling Mary into her room to have the Married Woman talk, as she put it. The girls stared at the closed door of Mama’s room, wondering what that talk might consist of. When the door was flung open and Mary emerged, looking rather green, she said, “Do not ask me,” and fled.
Mr. Bennet stayed out of the way as much as possible, though he appeared that afternoon and asked Mary to join him in his study.
Mary obeyed, but with some reluctance. “If you mean to have some sort of special talk for married women with me, you need not, for Mama has already done so.”
Mr. Bennet turned purple and said, “No! Heavens, no! I leave such things to your mother.”
