She was still leaning against him, with Mr Darcy’s arm across her shoulders. His face was inches from her own, and his fingertips fell to the skin above her collar. Elizabeth was suddenly very conscious of her own arm that was resting across Mr Darcy’s waist. As his fingertips burned the sensitive skin of her neck, she wondered if she ought to close her hand to clasp him a little tighter.
“I, I am glad that you ...” His voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “If you feel up to it, I ought to dress for... is it not late? We both might dress for dinner, if you are well enough, I mean.” Hespoke without any of the composure she had come to expect from him.
She managed to nod as she looked into his eyes. It took a moment to find her own voice and say, “Yes, I shall meet you in the dining room in a quarter of an hour.”
Then Mr Darcy leant forward and pressed an impulsive kiss to her forehead before he quickly quit the room. She felt a weakness, a little breathless, as she thought of Mr Darcy while she climbed the stairs to her own chamber. Was it one of her incidents of heart pain coming on? Whatever this was, it was a new symptom.
Darcy removedhis black gloves and adjusted his armband after the Collinses’ butler took his coat. He then took Mrs Darcy’s pelisse to reveal a grey evening gown with black trim.It was pleasant to see his wife out of unrelieved black. Georgiana was as much on their minds now as she was when she died six weeks ago, regardless of what colour they wore.
His wife gave him a long-suffering look as they stood outside the door to the Collinses’ drawing room. Darcy drew her arm under his, and they entered together. The invitation for a family dinner had come from Mrs Collins, but one look at her face was enough to tell him that it was given under duress by Mrs Bennet. He had only seen the Collinses at church and had not spoken to them since the funeral. Darcy knew who would be the greatest tax on his forbearance, and it would not be an indiscreet mother or a gossipy sister.
“My dear Darcy, how do you do?” Mrs Bennet greeted him. Darcy ought to have spoken to Mrs Collins first, but he was naturally drawn by his mother-in-law’s genuine concern and repulsed by his hostess’s sullen attitude. “How do you bear up?”
“Tolerably well, madam.” He then forced himself to address Mrs Collins. “Thank you for inviting us.”
She curtsied and frowned as Mrs Darcy said, “How do you do, Mary? Thank?—”
“Cousin Elizabeth, I welcome you back to your childhood home,”Mr Collins interrupted her and led them into the dining room. “How fortunate you have found a husband in your own neighbourhood so as to make frequent visits to your mother and sisters.” He took closer notice of her as they sat. “You are looking markedly well. Married life must suit you.”
His wife did look pretty. There was no hint of pain in her features, and she had dressed for the evening with care. It was good for her to re-enter public life now that she was in half-mourning. Darcy turned from admiring Mrs Darcy and caught the peevish look on Mrs Collins’s face.
“There is nothing remarkable about a woman finding some sort of husband,” Mrs Collins said. “I suppose that youth, sprightliness, and a love of society must draw insomemanner of man into wedlock.”
Darcy widened his eyes in affront while Mrs Darcy sighed. “Yes, Mary. Let us not forget to add submission and frugality. Those are the principles that matter most to Mr Darcy and attracted me to him.” She gave him a wink. “Lydia, how?—”
“You do know that you are lucky to have married at all?” Mrs Collins asked expressively. “Istudied the necessary principles whilst in the single state to make me a proper wife and dutiful mistress, did I not, Mr Collins?”
“Of course, my dear. Being a good manager, keeping a good table, and a neat appearance are far more important than a handsome face or accomplishments such as cousin Elizabeth’s.” Lydia could not contain a laugh as Mr Collins unwittingly insulted his own wife, and Mrs Darcy turned pink. “You have added to my happiness, as I must presume that Mrs Darcy has added to the happiness of Mr Darcy.”
“I would assume nothing of the sort. It is equally in Lizzy’s power to communicate happiness or to occasion misery to her husband,” Mrs Collins quickly rejoined.
The room’s attention shifted to him, and Darcy glanced at his wife, who bore Mrs Collins’s implied insult with grace. Mrs Collins was both jealous of her sister and insecure of her own merits. It threw a languor over the evening, and her husband’s foolish flattery and practised compliments did nothing to help.If she can keep her patience, so canI.“I assure you, madam, I do not have the words to do justice to my domestic happiness.”
He had grown very conscious of Mrs Darcy’s good qualities. He could never have been content to live with only a pretty and useful companion, a woman with no mind of her own or one gratified by only refined pleasures. Mrs Darcy was witty, lively, and aimed to put everyone at ease. She was devoted to those she loved and had no taste for finery and parade.
It is not to last, of course.
It was not the marriage he would have chosen, but being in her company gave Darcy a calm satisfaction and contentment. She was a woman any intelligent man would be proud to call his wife, and he would enjoy it while he could.
“Lizzy,” called Mrs Bennet, “have you heard that Mrs Starr has totally failed in her business, and yesterday had an execution on her house? All of her effects were seized, your aunt Philips told me.”
“Yes, her own brother is the principal creditor!” Lydia cried. “Can you imagine it?”
How lamentable that this gossip was an improvement over the previous conversation. “Our whole neighbourhood must pity Mrs Starr,” Mrs Darcy said sadly. “If she is not seized herself in default of payment, something ought to be done for her and her children. Mr Darcy, do you think that we might?—”
“The fault in her failure lies with Mrs Starr,” said Mrs Collins. “As the wife of the principal landowner in the village, I do not think it wise to set a precedent to support those who have failed not through tragedy but through their own unwise choices.”
“I could not disagree with you more,” Darcy said. “Let us hope for the sake of Mrs Starr’s hungry children that the rector of Longbourn and the other landowners do not oppose a little charity to widows and orphans.”
In the silence that followed Mrs Darcy gave him a smile, and she appeared to relax.
“This is all so very dull!” Lydia exclaimed. “I am eager to go to South End with Jane.”
“Yes, you have not even seen Thomas, let alone the newestnephew.” His wife’s countenance brightened as she mentioned these little boys. “Thomas is two, and Frederick will be above eight months?—”
“I do not at all care for that. Well, I do wish them well, of course, and I daresay they are better behaved than—I want to go to the seaside because, after that holiday, I hope to spend the winter in London with Jane and Mrs Cuthbert.”
“I have no doubt you will do very well during your turn,” replied her mother. “Jane and Kitty made a match their first seasons in town. How strange that Lizzy went every winter for five years and never had one offer. And she was there for Jane’s lying-ins, too. I was always so disappointed when you came home every spring.”
