“He’s not my suitor. Now run along, I have work to do.”
“The ribbon?”
Elizabeth laughed, “Yes, you can borrow the ribbon. Now go.” Lydia darted forward and gave her sister a quick kiss, before she left.
Two of her sisters in one morning. Elizabeth smiled as she enjoyed the tactile pleasure of trimming her quill — as the total sum of money involved was so small Elizabeth indulged herself by buying the very best feathers. Would Mary or Kitty decide to stop by as well? Her other two sisters were very different. Mary, serious and studious; Kitty, flighty and flirtatious.
Mr. Collins’s taste for sermons and improving works had destroyed Mary’s preference for them, but not her desire to read serious books. Mary idolized bluestockings such as Elizabeth Montagu, and her favorite book was A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. She had given herself an extensive program of study, and, somewhat to Elizabeth’s surprise, mostly carried it through.
For several weeks after she read Wollstonecraft’s book Mary stopped playing piano, as it was an ornamental skill taught to woman so they could entertain their future husbands. However, Mary explained very seriously when she resumed practicing, as long as she played for her own pleasure and improvement, it was not an adornment but a reasonable exercise.
Elizabeth did not get on well with Kitty at all. She was her mother’s favorite, and Mrs. Bennet saw their family as made up of competing camps, where Kitty was the only one really on her side. Kitty loved being the main recipient of her mother’s attention, and little Elizabeth, or Jane, said could influence Kitty’s manners. She was a terrible flirt, with little in her mind beyond men, society, and dancing. Still, Elizabeth loved all her sisters very much, and hoped Kitty would eventually mature. Though she did not really expect her to.
Chapter 3
A few nights after the assembly Darcy attended a small party at Lucas Lodge, the home of a jovial minor knight who talked more than Darcy enjoyed and was too self-important for his position in life. It took several minutes of stiff bows, and short answers before he escaped the meaningless pleasantries of his host.
Darcy thought the red and orange pattern of the wallpaper, and the profusion of shiny ornate decorations, showed abominable taste. It was as if — Darcy believed this was what had actually happened — the owner had been so impressed by the decor of St. James’s that he decided to imitate it as far as possible on an income of a thousand pounds a year. The effect was gaudy, and made the cheapness of the furnishings more obvious.
Darcy looked for Mrs. Collins, as he hoped to continue the acquaintance. This quest was paused when he heard Bingley’s name spoken loudly. Mrs. Bennet said to Lady Lucas, “Bingley was most attached to Jane at the Assembly, and now he has talked to her all night.”
“It does appear a promising inclination,” Lady Lucas replied in a not entirely happy voice.
“It will probably come to nothing,” Mrs. Bennet said peevishly, “Lizzy still refuses to hire a French maid or increase our clothes budget. And should we have Bingley over to dine, he will most certainly be disappointed with the cheapness of our cook. That girl lives to vex me. If only she had not stolen Jane’s place! Had Jane married Mr. Collins she would have been a dutiful daughter.”
Darcy felt a start of surprise at this information. How had Mrs. Collins come to supplant her sister? Lady Lucas murmured sympathetically, before Mrs. Bennet exasperatedly added even louder, “I’ve told Jane to do everything she can to attach Mr. Bingley, but how can she if Lizzy refuses to let her look her best? I’d think Lizzy was jealous of Jane’s beauty if they weren’t so close.”
Lady Lucas noted Darcy’s presence, and gave Mrs. Bennet a pointed look and nodded towards him. Then she asked about a piece of neighborhood gossip which had nothing to do with Bingley. Darcy walked away, the conversation disturbed him. Bingley was in a corner eagerly speaking to Miss Bennet. He looked infatuated — but not more so than Darcy had seen him before. Miss Bennet, while she smiled, showed no symptoms of particular regard for his friend.
It was too early to be concerned, but Darcy decided to watch the two; if Bingley became more serious he would warn his friend that he had heard Mrs. Bennet ordered Jane to attach herself to him. Perhaps he should also mention the conversation to Miss Bingley.
Darcy again looked for Mrs. Collins. She was across the room in a pretty rose-colored dress speaking to two other young women. Before he approached her he himself was approached by Lydia Bennet, the youngest of the Bennet sisters. Due to her age Miss Lydia was not fully out in society, and had not been at the assembly ball, but since the Bennets were very close friends with all of the families at the Lucas party except Bingley and his guests, they allowed her to attend.
Like Georgiana she was tall and well grown for her age, and she had a yellow ribbon threaded through her light colored hair. “You are the one Lizzy danced with twice at the assembly.” She stepped back and looked him up and down, “La! You are tall!”
Darcy did not know how to reply.
“My sister likes you, she thought you could take a tease in good humor, and she said you were unusual as a man because you would let a woman argue with you. She said it reminded her of father. So,” the forward girl demanded, “what do you think of my sister.”
The impertinence of the request and Lydia’s manner shocked Darcy. The girl showed surprisingly poor breeding. Rather than reply Darcy gave her an impassive stare he knew to be intimidating. It worked as the girl started to blush and turn away but then she swallowed and firmed herself up and stared at him fiercely and asked again, “What do you want with my sister.”
It was quite the incongruous impression Darcy received from this. Lydia was a 15-year-old girl, yet her manner made him think of an old father demanding some young fellow explain his intentions towards his daughter. But the seriousness of Miss Lydia’s manner, and her undertone of real concern reminded Darcy of how he felt when he learned from Georgiana about her attachment to Wickham. The memory softened Darcy’s sense of the impropriety of Lydia’s request, and he replied honestly, “I found her a fascinating and challenging conversationalist, and I admire her willingness to work hard to maintain and improve the estate — I hope to know her better as I did enjoy our talk a great deal.”
“So you do not wish to marry her for her money?”
“No.” Darcy said flatly.
The girl in front of him relaxed, and blushed and turned away, “I’m glad to hear that, it was forward of me to approach you like that, but ever since he died,” she emphasized the word with a surprising amount of venom, “men have wanted to attach themselves to Lizzy as she owns Longbourn clear, if you just desire to talk I won’t worry. She does love to argue!”
And with that the girl walked away.
Darcy did not know what to think. Her behavior was very improper, and he should feel offended to have his motives questioned like that — Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley a fortune hunter? — But… it was deeply amusing, and a little touching. While he did not smile, the image of a fifteen year old girl playing the protective guardian left him in very good humor. Further, Miss Lydia had some steel in her. In the back of Darcy’s mind he wondered what he had done. It made him think there was more to the story of Mrs. Collins taking the elder Miss Bennet’s rightful place than was on the surface.
With a carefully maintained neutral face, Darcy walked to where Mrs. Collins now stood alone watching Miss Lucas play. “I just had the oddest conversation with your sister Miss Lydia.”
Mrs. Collins’s face turned the darkest shade of red he had ever seen on a person. Darcy noted that it was becoming and set off the brightness of her eyes nicely, “She didn’t!”
Darcy nodded to indicate she in fact had.
Mrs. Collins clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head, “I had made her promise to leave you be. Please don’t think her manners are always so poor: she was raised better than that, but,” as Mrs. Collins hesitated her blush faded, “something happened when she wa
s much younger that gave her an odd idea that it is her duty to protect me from men. I am very sorry for her behavior.”
The woman’s embarrassment dissolved any lingering offense Darcy might have had at Lydia’s behavior: it had not been proper, but there was no ill feeling behind it. Darcy smiled mischievously, “Will she negotiate the marriage settlement should anyone catch your heart again?”
The blush deepened once again, but this time Mrs. Collins mouth turned up into a genuine smile, “I daresay I will have her in the room.”
Before Darcy replied, Miss Bingley, wearing an orange dress and feathered hat, walked up to them and asked Mrs. Collins, “I just spoke to Lady Lucas about your relatives in Cheapside. Is it true they live within eyesight of their warehouse?”
Mrs. Collins nodded agreeably, “It is true — though they live on Gracechurch Street, which is near Cheapside, but not in the district. This will no doubt shock you my dear Miss Bingley, but not only have I visited them there often, I have even toured those warehouses — I’m not at all certain you will survive the shock of this revelation, but my capital has even paid for some of the goods that fill those warehouses.”
“You brag of your connections to trade?” Darcy said, surprised.
“I do. My uncle and aunt are the best of people; without their help I would hardly have managed the difficult time after my husband’s death. And, above all else I wish to see my sisters well cared for. The return on capital I can receive from my uncle is far greater than I could get from the funds, and ensuring my sisters and mother will never be in poverty — or forced to marry where they do not wish — matters far more than my dignity as a gentlewoman.”
She now turned to Darcy, “You said you abhor disguise of every sort; you surely can understand why I would not hide this.”
Miss Bingley replied before Darcy could, “I see what you attempt, you defy common standards for self-interested reasons, and claim it to be a virtue as you are merely being honest. This is a pretense which will not work with me.”
“Ah,” Mrs. Collins replied, “but I do not claim my behavior to be virtuous, merely self-interested. So there is no pretense.”
Darcy suspected it was jealousy that drove Miss Bingley to attack Mrs. Collins in this way, and he could not disapprove of Mrs. Collins attitude, “I do see why you openly own your relatives, and I do approve. For myself I always wish to let the world see me as I am and it may draw what conclusion it wishes. I do not perform for strangers.”
Mrs. Collins dimpled at his words, “To hear that you do not perform for strangers fits my perception of your character perfectly.”
He was not entirely sure how to take Mrs. Collins’s reply. Miss Bingley said, “Surely Mr. Darcy, you would not associate with tradesmen yourself.”
“I would not,” Darcy replied immediately. “But the situations are entirely different. My connections are of a much higher sort, my grandfather was an Earl, my aunt married a baronet, and the Darcy name, though untitled, has a long and distinguished history. To associate directly with tradespeople would be unfitting the dignity of my connections and name. I live as I ought given my station in life. People should not pretend to be in a different condition than they are, I would disapprove of you,” nodding to Mrs. Collins, “if you disdained those who bonds of blood and affection tie you to because you wished to appear greater than you are. That would be far worse than if someone in my situation condescended to associate with such persons.”
Mrs. Collins raised her eyebrows, “That is very liberal of you, to think it a worse crime to disdain one’s relatives than to dine with a tradesman.”
“That is not a very charitable construction of my words,” Darcy said with a smile.
With a small laugh Mrs. Collins replied, “Perhaps it is not. Though there are those who would disagree with you, and see dining with a tradesman as the greater crime. In any case I cannot blame you for your attitude, still the view one ought to only associate with those near themselves in station has always struck me as odd.”
“Surely you think some separation must be maintained to keep order. Look at what has happened in France when they tried to abolish all distinctions of rank.”
“The revolution is a great warning, no doubt, but of what I’m less sure. I confess that I do not see the path between thinking my uncle would be excellent company for anyone, and an English version of the Committee for Public Safety.”
Darcy shrugged, “Perhaps there is none, and I do not doubt your uncle would be excellent company, but, in any case, there is still reason to avoid intimate association with tradespeople if possible. After all they are constantly engaged in the handling of money, and buying and selling. The need to appeal to their customers damages their sense of independence, and the close association to profit can weaken their moral fiber. I am certain from your affection for him this has not happened to your uncle, but it does to many tradesmen.”
Mrs. Collins smiled and shook her head, “Now I do not believe that proves your point at all.” She laughed, “I admit commerce may damage the character of some tradesmen; I have done business with merchants who found their highest joy in cheating honest persons out of their money. But your idea is that the gentry, or aristocracy are superior and ought to avoid merchants to protect themselves. Why, not a week goes by when you do not hear a new story of scandalous behavior, or how a Duke lost enough money to feed a thousand persons for a year on a game of cards. Idleness clearly is as great a danger as running after profit.”
Darcy started to reply when Mrs. Collins interrupted him with an arch smile, “Be serious, you do not really think being wellborn and well-educated is a guarantee of virtue.”
After a moment Darcy laughed in defeat. He certainly knew too much of his peers to think that. He felt a bit foolish about the argument he had made, but the triumphant look Mrs. Collins gave him was too happy for him to not smile back at her. “I confess you have convinced me, now that we have established both gentry and tradesmen are contaminated by their way of life, where can we find virtue? Should we perhaps emulate cottagers?”
Mrs. Collins laughed, and Miss Bingley reentered the conversation, “Maybe breeding does not guarantee virtue, but the refined pleasures are preferable to those of the lower classes — surely you,” she looked at Darcy, “would not wish your sister to act as a cottager’s daughter.”
“Certainly not. But then I have no real belief in their superior virtue.” Mrs. Collins laughed again and Darcy gave a pleased smile at her amusement.
Miss Bingley said, “In most cases, the manners of tradesmen are deficient so as to give general disgust. They do not have the same education or standing, and cannot easily mingle in good society.”
Darcy loved the way the good humor was visible in the shape of Mrs. Collins’s mouth, as she raised her eyebrows and said, “In truth I am surprised to hear you disdain tradesmen so. I had understood that your father had gained his fortune transporting coal to the mills of Manchester — I certainly would not expect you to brag of your connections, but…”
Miss Bingley’s irritation was clear as she stared at Mrs. Collins for a moment before replying, “It is education and breeding which matter, my father may have chosen to go into trade instead of a more respectable occupation, but my grandfather’s estate is quite as good as yours. The Bingleys of Lancashire are an old and respected family. We have been educated in the very best manner possible. We show all the means and manners of gentility.”
“Now, now, you have no need to prove anything to me,” Mrs. Collins waved her hands and laughed. “I would never disdain someone for their connections to trade.”
This reply did nothing to improve Miss Bingley’s mood, and Darcy tried to hide his smile. Though from how Mrs. Collins caught his eye he could see she perceived his amusement. He did think Miss Bingley was correct in essentials: Mr. Bingley, was a gentleman due to his education and behavior. So long as a person acted the gentleman few would really disdain them because their fortune was new. Unli
ke France before the revolution, the higher tiers of British society were open to capable families of the lower ranks.
Charlotte Lucas approached them, perhaps because she had noticed the tension that had come over the conversation as Miss Bingley gave Mrs. Collins a cold smile, “My dear Eliza, now that I have, you must display for our new friends,” Miss Lucas nodded at Darcy and Miss Bingley.
Mrs. Collins laughed, “If you decree I must, I must. I will warn you,” she said to Darcy, “I am only competent, though I do take great joy in playing.”
The picture made as she sat at the piano with her eyes on the sheets of music, and her face twisted in concentration, was very pretty. She had spoken truly that she was not a great artist, but the emotion Mrs. Collins imbued the song with caught Darcy in its spell and nearly brought tears to his eyes. Besides his sister, he could think of very few performers he had enjoyed more.
Chapter 4
Mr. Bingley and his company would attend a dinner party hosted by the Bennets. Mrs. Bennet had been in a flurry of agitated activity all week, and her hope to acquire Mr. Bingley for Jane made her beg again for extra money to improve the entertainment.
In fact, Elizabeth wanted the party to go very well, though not as much as her mother. She never thought it important to impress her neighbors, who had known her from birth. But, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy were from excellent London society; they often ate more extravagant meals, in more expensively decorated rooms, than the environs of Meryton could supply. Longbourn should show its best face to them. Besides, Jane liked Mr. Bingley. For that Elizabeth would go out of her way to make them welcome.
Elizabeth gave her mother far more money than she usually would, and supported as best she could the flurry of preparations. However, despite her desire that the party would go very well — and though she enjoyed hosting her neighbors immensely — Elizabeth did not care for the details of preparing an entertainment. It seemed pointless to her to spend an hour, as her mother did, debating what flower arrangement would best match the color of the new tablecloth that she had purchased.
Mr Darcy and Mr Collins's Widow Page 3