Mrs. Bennet, entirely satisfied, continued her effusions, ushering them all inside with a stream of commentary that left little room for interruption.
Conversation continued to be just as lively in the drawing room.
Darcy had expected as much.
Lydia and Kitty were already present when they entered, though to his surprise, both were quieter than he had ever known them to be. They hovered near Georgiana, their usual exuberance subdued into something almost resembling civility as they attempted conversation.
Georgiana, to her credit, bore it with composure.
Mrs. Bennet, however, more than compensated for any lack of noise elsewhere.
She had secured Lady Anne and Lady Catherine and was holding them fast.
Darcy, seated at a slight remove, found it difficult to determine which of the two ladies was more discomposed—Lady Anne, who looked as though she scarcely knew where to place her eyes, or Lady Catherine, who regarded Mrs. Bennet with an expression of frank astonishment, as though she had encountered some entirely new and inexplicable species.
“My dear Lady Catherine,” Mrs. Bennet was saying, “you must allow me to offer you my heartfelt congratulations! Only one daughter—how very fortunate! I am sure it must have been the simplest thing in the world to see her so well married.”
Lady Catherine’s eyes widened, and the muscle in her jaw told Darcy his aunt was doing all she could to keep from gaping at the spectacle before her.
Mrs. Bennet pressed on.
“For I assure you, five daughters is quite another matter entirely. The expense! The anxiety! The endless planning!Though now that three are married—” she cast a satisfied glance about the room “—I am quite repaid for all my troubles.”
Darcy felt, rather than saw, Elizabeth’s reaction beside him.
Mrs. Bennet turned at once to Lady Anne.
“And you, my dear madam, must allow me to offer my services when Miss Darcy is of an age to be presented. I have had considerable experience in such matters, I assure you, and should be most happy to advise you on every particular—gowns, introductions, suitable acquaintances—”
Lady Anne murmured something polite.
Lady Catherine said nothing at all.
Dinner was announced soon after.
If Darcy had hoped for any abatement, he was disappointed. Mrs. Bennet continued in much the same strain throughout the meal, though now with greater detail and very little interruption.
“And Mary is settling in so well,” she declared, looking about the table with satisfaction. “Mrs. Collins suits her exceedingly. Quite the proper situation for her—very respectable—and she is not so very far removed that we shall not see her again. Though of course,” she added with a sigh that was anything but sorrowful, “it is always a trial to have one’s daughters leave home.”
The moment her sister’s name was mentioned, Darcy saw Elizabeth’s posture change. It was only a slight stiffening of her shoulders, but Darcy knew his wife well enough to discern that she was affected by her mother’s words.
He knew that look.
Her expression was composed—perfectly so—but there was a tension about her mouth that had not been there a moment before.
She was holding her tongue.
Darcy felt a flicker of sympathy—and something sharper beneath it.
Mrs. Bennet pressed on.
“But at least Mary will return to Longbourn one day,” she continued, entirely untroubled. “For of course, when Mr. Bennet is gone, Mr. Collins will come into the estate, and she will be mistress here. So it is not as though she is lost to us entirely.”
Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around her fork.
Darcy met her eyes.
He offered the smallest, most understanding look he could manage.
