“I am determined to never marry for purely material concerns. And if I were tempted, Jane’s fate would be ample warning.”
“She is content.”
“Content? Is that all one can expect from a marriage?”
“It is all I would demand — in truth it is more than I would expect.”
“She sacrificed her hopes of happiness for the family, and it was a mistake for her to do so. I never could have.”
“Then you are a fool, and what is more, you are selfish. But I do not believe you. It is easy to speak as you do when such a sacrifice is unnecessary. But if you had really been faced with the choice to marry Mr. Collins, or to see your whole family thrown nearly destitute onto the charity of your relations who barely could afford the expense, I do not think you would have remained so haughty.”
Rather offended by her friend, Elizabeth replied, “Not all of us are wise.”
Charlotte stopped Elizabeth as they reached the door of the circulating library, with a hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “I beg you, Elizabeth, to understand that I think chiefly of your well-being in saying this. You see me — I am unmarried at an age when I would far prefer to be the mistress of my own household. I beg you to think of what you are about, and to not be a fool upon the matter — if I had half as much encouragement from a manas you have had from Mr. Darcy, I would assiduously seek to cultivate him.”
Elizabeth ventured not reply, and they entered together the musty confines of the store that combined a bookstore with a circulating library.
One half of the room had a collection of small tables with chairs put up around them, where those subscribed to the circulating library could sit and read through the books hidden within the shelves behind the desk or locked in glass display cases.
This had become necessary for Elizabeth’s happiness, as Mr. Collins had decreed that they would not keep novels in his house — following advice received from his patroness. It was passing odd to Elizabeth to think about how Mr. Darcy’s sweet child was the granddaughter of that woman who Elizabeth had never met but always assumed was a dragon.
Elizabeth found to her enormous surprise the girl who she had just been thinking of sitting happily on one of the wood backed chairs, munching cheerfully upon a crust of toast while looking at an open book filled with illustrations of animals. This despite Mr. Morris’s well known prohibition on the consumption of any food or beverage within the confines of his establishment.
Mr. Darcy stood by the desk being served by Mr. Morris, who had piled seven books on the counter next to him, several of them large sets of prints, and another a thick book bound in Greek. Mr. Morris eagerly spoke to Darcy as the gentleman fingered his way through the book he held.
Upon perceiving the gentleman’s presence, Charlotte nudged Elizabeth. Following their previous conversation, Elizabeth knew her friend meant to push her to use this opportunity to speak to Mr. Darcy.
Being of a contrary inclination, Elizabeth went to walk to the other side of the room, watching Emily as she went.
The girl looked up, and when she saw that Elizabeth watched her, she immediately looked down and away. Elizabeth chuckled, it would take a few more meetings before she was considered by Emily as one of the personages whose presence she immediately welcomed.
Mr. Darcy’s eye was drawn by the sound, and he looked over at her. He inclined his head to both of them. “Miss Bennet. Miss Lucas.”
“You have found the best place in town,” Elizabeth replied. “My favourite haunt.”
“Mr. Morris has an impressive selection of interesting books. Quite unusual for anyone outside of one of the bigger cities or London,” Darcy replied.
“It is easier to keep an excellent selection because we are not so far from London,” Mr. Morris replied. “A man can easily enough make the whole journey on foot in a day if he pushes himself.”
“Quite true.” Darcy smiled closely at Elizabeth. “And what books are your favourites, Miss Bennet?” Then seeming to recollect himself, he added, “Or yours, Miss Lucas?”
“Oh, do not mindmytaste in books at all. Mine tends to the improving. Elizabeth’s tastes are more fascinating by far.”
“Oh?” Darcy asked with a smile.
Elizabeth’s stomach fluttered.
She liked Mr. Darcy far too much, and Charlotte’s advice to cultivate him with hopes of marriage struck her as too appealing. But he wouldnotmarry again, because he had said as much, and shewoulddo him the honour of treating him as a rational gentleman who knew his own mind.
In any case, even if he had been looking for a wife, it was exceedingly unlikely that such a great gentleman would settle upon the second prettiest of an oversized group of poor sisters.
“I confess to preferring novels. It is a low taste, I know. They are more to my taste than improving tomes.”
“She can read Latin, French and German all well enough,” Mr. Morris said, as though he was in conspiracy with Charlotte to push her forward.
Elizabeth flushed. “I have to work at the Latin and German too much to enjoy the experience.”
“Latin?” Darcy grinned at her. “Most unusual — be careful with the pages.”
