Page 38 of Gold and Good Sense

Fortunately, this changed Kitty’s focus immediately. “It’s such a difficult decision, you know,” said Kitty. “Black material is always so hot, so I have been trying to discover the lightest but sturdiest material I can find for my pelisse. Even if it’s in a different color, I can always just dye it black. There were a few possibilities I saw in the shop yesterday, but I couldn’t decide which one was best.”

Elizabeth’s attention quickly faded as Kitty, with Jane’s help, continued to prattle away about her plans for her clothing and her plans for her trip to Bath in the autumn.

Instead, her attention was directed inward, silently wondering why she felt so hollow. Elizabeth was a good daughter, and she loved her mother, but she had learned in recent years that she did not necessarily respect her mother’s judgment. For the last couple of months, she had leaned almost entirely on Lady Esther for motherly advice and support, and she had not missed her own mother much during that time.

Now, however, something about the permanence of this situation, the knowledge that no matter how Elizabeth might wish to see her mother again she never would, caused an ache to grow within her breast. The more she thought about it, the more tears tried to gather in her eyes, and her throat began to tighten.

She was startled out of her pain and her wonderment at her pain by the feel of an arm going around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly as if trying to hold her together.

Elizabeth looked around to find Mary next to her with a sympathetic expression and tears in her eyes. “I have no words to comfort you, Elizabeth, but I can say that you aren’t alone.”

Just this simple sentence unlocked something inside Elizabeth, and the sobs that had tightened her throat burst free. With Mary’s arms around her, Elizabeth poured out her grief onto her sister’s shoulder. As she did so, she could occasionally hear a matching sob emerging from Mary.

By the time the men had returned from the funeral, all five sisters had shed at least a few tears, and each of them in their own way had bid a permanent farewell to their mother.

Part Three

Chapter 20

August 29, 1811

Fitzwilliam Darcy sighed in contentment as he set down his empty port glass on the empty dinner table.

“I am afraid I will need to leave a week earlier than usual this year,” said Darcy’s uncle, Judge Darcy. The older gentleman had arrived for his annual visit to Pemberley today after six weeks of overseeing his assizes circuit. He usually stayed for about a month then either retired to Brighton or Bath or spent October visiting other friends in the country.

“That is unexpected,” said Darcy. “Is there anything amiss?”

Judge Darcy scoffed. “Hardly. I have decided to get married. Well, at least I’ve decided to propose marriage. Whether that results in me actually being in the married state will depend entirely upon the young lady.”

It was a good thing Darcy was no longer holding his glass, or he might have dropped it in shock. “I was certain you were a confirmed old bachelor.”

Darcy’s uncle chuckled. “I believed it myself.”

“Then what changed?” asked Darcy.

“I suppose it is the one thing that can change any man’s mind on that subject,” said Judge Darcy wistfully. “I met the right woman.”

Darcy narrowed his eyes. “You have been on circuit for the last six weeks. When could you possibly have met someone?”

“This is a lady I met last spring.”

“And you are only now deciding to propose?”

“I thought about it before she left London, but I had not come to any conclusion when her mother died and she went into mourning. I’ve just been biding my time ever since.”

“Her mother died? Are you referring to one of the Misses Bennet?” As he asked the question, his stomach clenched, and he prayed to God above that Uncle Darcy was not referring to Elizabeth.

“I am, indeed,” said Judge Darcy, completely unaware of the turmoil within Darcy. “Miss Mary Bennet.”

Darcy released the breath he was holding. “That is surprising to say the least,” he said. Darcy’s uncle was one of the most gregarious men Darcy knew, while Miss Mary was quite the opposite. She was not particularly sociably successful. At every ball, she danced less than half the dances, and it was always unclear whether she enjoyed herself at all.

Judge Darcy shrugged. “She is my opposite in every observable way, yet that is precisely the appeal. I spend my life and my career surrounded by people. Miss Mary, on the other hand, prefers books. I came to realize that it might be nice to spend my time at home with a quiet companion who allows me to talk about things other than hunting, cards, and politics. Do you know, she actually listened to me talk about an interesting case that was brought before me and responded intelligently, asking questions as though she was truly curious about it? That is a rare quality in a lady.”

“Are you sure she wasn’t just pretending interest just to catch your attention?” asked Darcy, though he felt sick just thinking it. Elizabeth and her sisters were far too artless to stoop to such tricks. At least, he had assumed that was the case.

Surprisingly Judge Darcy shrugged. “Does it matter? The point is that she understood what I was saying enough to ask for more information and to respond intelligently. What difference does it make if the interest was feigned? I genuinely don’t care what we talk about, even if she does not like the law in the least. The point is that, unlike every other lady I’ve met in London, she is relaxing to be around. At my time of life, that is an extremely valuable quality.”

“So, you are not in love with her?” asked Darcy.