Page 39 of Most Truly the Gentleman

The readiness with which Mr Collins seized upon that line of thought was a startling indication of a real affection for his betrothed. Darcy had, until that moment, assumed Miss Mary to be little more to the man than a means of obeying Lady Catherine’s dictates. It also suggested that the young lady was a great deal more capable of managing his devotion to his patroness than Darcy would have expected. With a few years in her near-constant company, Mr Collins might even become something less than ridiculous. The couple bent their heads together and began to devise a strategy for mollifying his patroness.

“Rosings Park is entailed, but not to the male line?” Mrs Bennet asked with unusual timidity.

“No, madam,” Darcy answered, comprehending her interest in the matter, and finding himself struck with sympathy for the silly woman. An entail such as Longbourn’s would weigh heavily on the minds of ladies much cleverer and more resourceful than she. “Though I believe there is a clause stating that when a woman inherits, if she has a son, he must take the de Bourgh name to claim Rosings in his turn.”

“Well,” the lady said, “I must say that seems a very sensible way of doing things. Is it the same with your estate, sir?”

“Pemberley has no entailment whatsoever,” he replied. “I may dispose of it as I wish. Presently my sister is my heir, as my excellent father would have expected, but if she were, for example, to marry someone of whom I did not approve, it would be within my power to protect Pemberley from coming into his hands even if I were not so fortunate as to have children of my own.” He gave his cousin a wide smile. “It would likely fall to this ramshackle fellow in such a case.”

“I hope, Mr Bingley,” Mrs Bennet announced, “that when you have an estate of your own, you will take Rosings Park and Pemberley as your examples when you consider what will become of it after your own time. It is a hard thing for a wife or a daughter to know that her home cannot be her own forever.”

“That is an advantage to purchasing an estate rather than inheriting one,” Bingley agreed. “I mean to do everything in my power to ensure that all of my descendants will be provided for, I assure you, madam.”

“We have been very fortunate that my husband’s heir is a kind man, and even more so that he likes our Mary,” she said with a fond look at the clergyman, who was still engaged in an intense whispered conversation with his future bride. “Had he taken us in dislike, or married a woman who did not wish for him to support his relations, our future might have been bleak indeed.”

“It is to be hoped, Mrs Bennet,” said the colonel with a smile, “that you will have several sons-in-law when that unhappy day arrives.”

“May it be just as you say!” the lady exclaimed.

25

SCANDAL

“Not that twaddle again,” Miss Darcy murmured in exasperation as Mr Collins claimed an engagement between her brother and Miss de Bourgh. Seeing her companions’ curious expressions, she elaborated. “It is my aunt’s dearest wish, and no one else’s.”

“I imagine any number of ladies have decided opinions on whom your brother should marry,” Elizabeth said sportively. “Few young gentlemen are in possession of their own estates, and of those that are, the gossip columns in the London papers would lead me to believe most lead lives of excess.”

“I confess to extreme partiality, but I think any lady would be most fortunate to marry my brother,” Miss Darcy replied. “Many of them do seem to agree!”

Kitty giggled. “And what sort of sister should you like him to get for you?”

“Oh, I do not much mind, so long as he is happy and she is not aggrieved that he is responsible for my care. She may be loud or quiet, rich or poor, pretty or plain, so long as she is a good wife to my brother and at least a civil acquaintance to me.”

“I doubt that Mr Darcy could be happy with anyone who did not really love you,” Elizabeth reassured her.

“I do hope he marries before I come out,” the young lady confessed. “My aunt, Lady Matlock, will advise me, of course, but I should so much like to have the company of a lady nearer my own age as I attempt to navigate society.”

“I should love to have a Season in London,” Kitty said dreamily. “Though I suspect my manners are not quite what they ought to be for such circles.”

Elizabeth regarded her sister in surprise. Self-reflection had never been a quality Kitty displayed. “Your manners are much improved of late, Kitty. You are only seventeen; it is perfectly natural that you are still learning how to go on.”

And spending less time with Lydia has certainly helped, she thought. Mr Bennet yet remained firm in his resolve that his youngest daughter should not be given any opportunity to interact with any member of the militia. Mr Bennet had allowed her out of her room after several days’ total confinement, and she had deigned to grace Longbourn’s parlour when Miss Harrington, another soldier-mad young lady, had accompanied her mother to Longbourn the previous day, but when she had seen that it was Mr Darcy’s carriage coming up the drive today, she had declared that the Netherfield party were ‘too, too dull’ and taken herself upstairs.

Thus far, Lydia had not chosen to defy her father’s strictures, no doubt in fear of having another quarter’s pin money repealed or her term of confinement extended. As it was, she had no hope of so much as calling at Lucas Lodge until the militia departed in May, and was without funds until Midsummer Day, her sisters and mother forbidden to provide her with gifts of coin or even loans. Added to these trials was her father’s edict that she must earn the right, by good behaviour, to once again be allowed to attend events outside of Longbourn once the militia had gone. This possibility of future freedom Mr Bennet had dangled before her when it seemed she was building up to a screaming fit a few days earlier, and it had produced an immediate beneficial effect in reducing Lydia from a state of incandescent rage to an irritating but bearable attitude of sullen petulance.

Miss Darcy had now met the youngest Bennet, after services on Sunday, although only briefly. Lydia had been entirely focused on reaching Maria Lucas and gleaning what news she could of the officers; she had curtseyed and voiced pleasure in the introduction, but in such a distracted manner as to make it plain that she wished herself elsewhere. Lydia’s four sisters had all but fallen over themselves to apologise to their new friend, who had been clearly taken aback but responded graciously. Miss Bingley had been close by and, with a supercilious sneer at the Bennets, had urged Miss Darcy and Mr Bingley—who was, as usual, by Jane’s side—to come with her to collect Mr Darcy and the Hursts and return to Netherfield. Mr Bingley had been too kind to publicly chastise his sister for attempting to dictate when their party would leave, and so the lady had got her way and the Bingley carriage had been among the first to depart.

Miss Darcy now shared with Kitty a little of what she had heard from her elder cousin Lady Evangeline, Colonel Fitzwilliam’s sister, about her Seasons in town. Elizabeth also listened with interest, though she did not expect to ever take part in such affairs.

In time, the gentlemen were released from Mrs Bennet’s conversation and approached the younger ladies. Miss Darcy’s face fell. “Must we leave already, Brother?”

“Not quite yet,” Mr Darcy replied indulgently. He and his cousin greeted Elizabeth and Kitty, and the conversation pivoted to encompass the events which would take place in the days before Christmas. On Friday, the final day of Mr Collins’s stay, there would be a dinner at Haye-Park. On Saturday, the clergyman would depart and the Bennets’ London relations, the Gardiners, would arrive. On Tuesday, Christmas Eve, the Harringtons of Woodvale Hall would host a musical evening of seasonal songs and carols. Any number of dinners, card parties, and teas would occupy them all until Twelfth Night, when there would be an assembly in Meryton. Longbourn would traditionally open its doors for a dinner the day after Boxing Day, but with Mrs Bennet declaring herself consumed by wedding planning, the neighbourhood would have to settle for tea and cider in the afternoon.

“I suppose the season is celebrated in grander style at your home, sir?” Elizabeth teased Mr Darcy.

He smiled at her, though there was a hint of bashfulness in it. “No, indeed, Miss Elizabeth. Most of the estates nearest my home are similar in size and income to those hereabouts; to own the truth, we are most often with my uncle’s family for Christmas, and when we are at home we keep to ourselves. Perhaps I might have judged better at those times to celebrate with my neighbours. Certainly, yours are doing everything to ensure a lively and happy celebration for all.”

“When next you are at Pemberley for Christmas, I charge you to recall what you have just said, and go forth like Gulliver to experience the strange ways of unknown peoples,” she declared sportively.