In truth all that Elizabeth could say in her own defense was that none of these lurid tales she made up for herself included the sound of wedding bells.
If she tried to imaginethat—by pretending that the difference in their state was not so great as to make it impossible, she needed to imagine what he would say when he learned about the sins of her mother and Elizabeth’s true parentage.
Several days into her daughter’s convalescence Mrs. Bennet descended upon the Netherfield party, accompanied by her daughters. It was impossible for Elizabeth to not smile at seeing how Mr. Darcy now looked at Lydia rather more askance.
Almost as soon as they arrived, Mrs. Bennet inquired about the locket which Elizabeth now wore.
With a flush, and a wish that she had hid it from her until such a time as Mr. Bennet was present, Elizabeth replied that itwas a gift from Mr. Bennet. For some reason she did not wish to say that it ultimately had been from her mother.
“Give it over, Lizzy, let me look closer at it.”
Elizabeth was aware that Mr. Bennet had instructed her to not let the image of her mother be seen widely, but likely there could be no harm in Mrs. Bennet seeing it, and to refuse on the grounds that Mr. Bennet did not wish the painted image within to be seen by her would raise far more questions.
With some anxiety Elizabeth took the locket off her neck and handed it over.
Mr. Darcy watched them with his solemn frown.
Mrs. Bennet turned it about. “Fine craftsmanship. Why ever did Mr. Bennet do this, and why did he say nothing of it to me? It ought to have gone to Lydia. She needs something of the sort. Lydia, come here, try this—”
“Mrs. Bennet, please. It is certainly mine, not Lydia’s. Mr. Bennet gave it to me for a particular reason...”
Mrs. Bennet looked at Elizabeth with some surprise at her unusual obstinacy. Then she said again, “I really do not see why it should not belong to one of his own children. At the very least let us see how it looks on Lydia.”
“It once belonged to my mother,” Elizabeth said then.
“No,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Mr. Bennet never said anything of the sort. That there was anything to give you of your mother’s. Your mother’s jewelry? Did she even have any? Don’t speak nonsense.”
“You may ask Mr. Bennet. I assure you that he will tell you the same.”
“That man! Taking the bread from his own children’s mouth for you. Though I never complain. Even if it was your mother’s it ought to be given over after all we have done for you. It would look much better on Lydia,” she said. “Come, Lydia, try it on.”
Elizabeth looked on helplessly, with a dreadful sense of wrongness to the whole.
Why did she find it so hard to say anything else and clearly demand it back. She could simply tell Mrs. Bennet that she must ask Mr. Bennet, and that this was a matter of importance. If she said it right, she did not think Mrs. Bennet would risk angering Mr. Bennet over the matter.
There was a flashing echo of pain. A memory of being beaten for standing up. A knowledge that she should never oppose the person set over her.
If only she had only let Mrs. Bennet see it while Mr. Bennet was present.Hewould have made it clear that it was solely hers in terms that his wife could not misunderstand. Though often lazy and unwilling to exert control, he had several times over the course of her childhood acted with real firmness and anger when Mrs. Bennet had crossed a boundary in his mind with regards to her treatment of Elizabeth.
Elizabeth felt it absolutely impossible to make herself complain, or even simply tell Mrs. Bennet once more to refer the whole matter to Mr. Bennet.
She felt sick in her stomach as Mrs. Bennet held the locket to Lydia.
“Madam,” Mr. Darcy suddenly spoke in a sharp voice. “I confess myself to be wholly shocked by this proceeding. If the necklace is a piece of family jewelry there can be no possible question about it belonging to Miss Elizabeth, and she has made as clear as she is capable that she does not wish to have it given over.”
If Mr. Darcy felt any discomfort at interfering in business that was not properly his own, he did not show it.
Mrs. Bennet stared at him, still holding the locket in her stretched-out hand.
Seeing that Mrs. Bennet was still conflicted, Darcy said to Mr. Bingley, “You certainly would agree that as a matter of principle and propriety that the piece should remain with Miss Elizabeth.”
Bingley studied the tableau with a frown.
Much of his cheerfulness was not there, and Elizabeth wondered what was in his mind, and she dearly hoped that this scene would not break his attraction to Jane, or at least that if it did, Mrs. Bennet would attribute the cause to something which had nothing to do with her.
“Yes, upon my honor,” Bingley said, “I agree with you, Darcy. But the matter, of course, is none of my business.”
Atthisdisavowal of it being his business, one which beyond question prompted some anxiety from Mrs. Bennet, that woman immediately returned the locket to Elizabeth, who anxiously took it, and held it in her hand. She wished to put it in her bags where no one could see it, she’d put it right next to the Queen Anne pistol Mr. Bennet insisted she keep.
