Darcy was not inclined to reply to such a statement, so he made a small bow.
“Lord! It is such a nervous business being a parent? Is it not?” Mrs. Bennet glanced towards where Emily sat playing peekaboo with the youngest Lucas daughter. “I have such flutterings and anxieties and feelings every day.”
“I hope to not be as nervous as you claim to be,” Darcy replied.
“You must be very eager to marry again, so that you might have someone to share the burden of worrying about your child,” Mrs. Bennet replied.
“Not at all.”
“You are a devoted parent, but you cannot enjoy having so much of your attention attached to a girl, and you must wish to have a son — I tell you again, I know! As a woman and a mother of five… children. All my girls will one day make excellent mothers, especially Lizzy.”
Darcy stiffened and stood straighter. His jaw was tight. He understood well enough what Mrs. Bennet hoped to encourage.
The deuce.
He had spoken to this woman on only two separate occasions. And he still wore mourning for Anne — he rather intended to always keep the black armband as a marker of his intention to not marry again.
“Mama.” Miss Bennet came up to them. “You surely see that Mr. Darcy enjoys his management of Miss Emily.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Bennet replied. “He surely knows that he needs a new wife, to have a proper heir, and—”
“The gentleman, Mama,” Miss Bennet, half desperately, interrupted her mother’s speech, “stands right here, and he can speak for his own preferences.”
Miss Bennet’s face was flushed, and there was something deeply embarrassed in her eyes.
Ifshehad developed any hopes, he needed to dash them immediately, and he guessed that he ought to speak much less with her in the future. Or maybe, if he spoke clearly enough, they might be able to be friends, since she would expect nothing.
“I am determined to never marry again,” Darcy said. “This is my firm plan, considered and well established.”
“Oh, nonsense, you cannot mean that,” Mrs. Bennet replied. “Grief passes. Why I was stricken when Mr. Bennet died. Look at me now! And it has not been so long.”
“Mama, you must account for differences of character and preferences.”
“Lord!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed again. “Nonsense.”
“This is not a matter of grief,” Darcy said. “It is a matter of what respect I owe to Anne. I shall not marry again, and my duty is to my daughter, not myself.”
“You cannot be happy without a son,” Mrs. Bennet burst out. “Heavens! I know very well that no man can be happy without a son.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened. “I would beg you not to tell me how I can or cannot be happy.”
“Besides, you must find a mother for your sweet daughter.”
Said daughter toddled towards them now, and Mrs. Bennet bent to her and said, “Hello, dear, dear. Do you not want a mother? Any girl must want a mother. Mama. Do say Mama. Can you say Mama? Ma-ma.”
“Ma. Ma.” Emily echoed the sound back.
“Yes, that is right,” Mrs. Bennet repeated encouragingly, “Ma, ma. Ma, ma.”
Darcy picked up Emily, far more offended by Mrs. Bennet having convinced Emily to repeat “Mama” after her than by anything else. “Her mother is dead. No new wife could replace the position that belonged to her.”
“At her age? She obviously cannot remember your first wife,” Mrs. Bennet replied in a tone that indicated she thought he had said something quite foolish. “And men insist thatwomenare the silly sex.”
“What has that to do with any matter?”
“The girl would be happier with a real mother. A child, especially a girl, can never be happy with just a man to care for them. Fathers never have enough anxiety for their children.”
Miss Bennet gasped. “Mama, you are surely wrong. Anyone can see that Mr. Darcy is devoted to his child.”
