When the dance finished, she watched them return to their friends, but immediately after, Mrs Sullivan broke away and approached her. After asking if Miss Elizabeth remembered her from The Green Park, she asked if she could sit by her side.
“I thought you could keep me company until my friends return,” she added.
Mrs Sullivan was plainly choosing to keep her company, but was too polite to say so. It made it difficult to dislike her for dancing with Darcy when she was so considerate. It was a kind gesture, especially for someone she had just met. Elizabeth watched Darcy ask Miss Bingley to dance. That was done out of politeness, but had he asked Mrs Sullivan out of affection?
“You are welcome to join me,” Elizabeth said, removing her eyes from Darcy, “but please do not let me keep you from your friends.”
“I should be honest. They are Colonel Fitzwilliam’s friends. I am relatively new in town, you know, and eager to make friends now that I am on my own.”
“I am sorry for your loss. Has your mourning kept you at home and away from London?”
“Thank you. I nursed my father for years, you know, at the seaside. He had been in banking, quite successful. I was his only child, and he left me fifteen thousand pounds, and the house in Harley Street. But between my first husband’s death and my father’s long illness, I have been away from society since I was twenty-four.”
Elizabeth could tell her new acquaintance did not want her pity, and so she tried not to show it. “How fortunate you are well-provided for. Have you become reacquainted with your former connexions?”
Mrs Sullivan made a face and shook her head. “I think too much time has passed for most of them. Now that my father is dead—and I miss him, certainly—but now that he has passed, I can make my own friends without his interference and opinion. I hope I can count you among them, Miss Bennet?” Her voice lifted hopefully.
“If you are able to visit Cheapside, you would be very welcome to call,” she said. If Mrs Sullivan wanted to be herfriend, she ought to know her connexions. “I am staying with my aunt and uncle in Gracechurch Street.”
She waved a hand. “Oh, you cannot think a Harley Street direction has gone to my head. We started as a country bank, you know, before moving to town when I was a child, and our first bank was in Lombard Street. You have a friendly face and a dislike of some of the superior ladies—I can tell—so I hope you will not think me forward in saying I would be glad to call.”
Elizabeth had assumed her to be a woman of fortune, and not less pleased with herself for having those fifteen thousand pounds and a wealth of life experience. In Mrs Sullivan’s person, there was nothing remarkable, aside from a charming smile. After seeing her interest in Darcy, Elizabeth wanted her to have an excess of undeserved vanity, and with only the empty appearance of knowledge, but Mrs Sullivan was delightful. Mrs Sullivan might be too bold for polite society, but she was friendly, sincere, and likeable.
It was no wonder Darcy laughed and smiled while they danced.
As jealous as she felt, she was not about to forsake the possibility of a new friend. “You are very welcome to call,” Elizabeth said. “I am in town until the first week of March when I leave to visit other friends, and then I return to my family in Hertfordshire in May. Have you any other family?”
“No near relation living. It is rather freeing, you know.”
She thought this was a curious thing to say. “I am afraid that I do not. My family has their faults, to be sure, but they are all dear to me.”
“Of course,” Mrs Sullivan cried. “What I meant is that my family is dead. I am of age—by quite a lot, you know—and I can finally make choices for myself, without a father or another man to decide for me or influence my choice.”
Elizabeth sighed over the truth of it. It was so difficult to be a woman sometimes. “I understand wanting more agency than men typically allow us.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” she went on. “I know we just met, but I am simply bursting, and you have such a kind face. You are young, so you cannot know how I feel, but I am weary of the season already. Not being asked to dance anymore as I grow older made me realise?—”
“Mr Darcy asked you to dance,” Elizabeth said quickly, hoping she did not sound jealous.
“He is a new friend, or rather, I hope he will become one. I like him already. But I am not asked to dance any longer. I am allowed to be out on my own on account of my age and my previous marriage, which is both liberating and lonely. I would like to marry again, but I know I am not beautiful, and it would be dreadful to marry a man who thinks my fortune is my sole recommendation.”
“Yes, it would,” she managed to say, still caught on hearing Mrs Sullivan say how much she liked Darcy. “I am surprised you did not remarry before your father became ill, when you were nearer to my age. You are very good-natured and had that fortune when you were young.”
Mrs Sullivan blushed and shook her head sadly. “My first marriage was a foolish one, and one made too young, you know. I mourned him, but never truly missed him. My father insisted I was worthy of someone of greater consequence, given how he had raised himself and the circles we moved amongst, and after my first poor choice, I conceded to his wishes. He never approved of any gentleman. And then he became ill, and I had to care for him. And here I am, you know, at thirty-one with no family of my own. You want to marry, do you not? Although I would hate to assume.”
Elizabeth smiled to herself. Mrs Sullivan did a great deal of assuming, but she still answered, “I do, someday, and I want to make my own choice.”
“I as well, and have children, and be liked for myself and not my fortune, so do you know what I did?”
Elizabeth leant forward, intrigued. She could not help but like Mrs Sullivan and was curious to know what she had done.
“Miss Bennet?”
They both looked up to see Darcy standing in front of them. She had stopped watching the dance and had lost track of where he was.
“Will you do me the honour of dancing with me?”
Her heart beat an unsteady rhythm and her mouth gaped, but she recovered in what she hoped was enough time for Darcy to not believe she was reluctant. She was only excessively surprised that he asked her. “Yes, certainly.” She rose and then looked back at Mrs Sullivan. “But I hate to leave Mrs Sullivan alone.”
