“Iheardabout it, but I would not say that I learnt anything,” he said in a low voice. “I am too conservative an investor for your brother’s liking, and we had nothing to talk about since he has no mind for anything other than what can be bought and sold on the Exchange. He could not even remember the verses he wrote for your sister when I asked him his thoughts on poetry.”
Jane finished with the tea and joined them, and, until Mrs Cuthbert interrupted, they passed the time pleasantly as Darcy made pains to know her sister.
“I understand you were in Hertfordshire for your sister’s health, Mr Darcy.” Mrs Cuthbert sat across from them with such force that the sofa shifted, and some of her coffee splashed onto Jane’s carpet. “Of what did she die?”
“She suffered since childhood from a wasting disease, madam.”
“What a pity. I suppose you married Eliza expecting her to nurse Miss Darcy?”
Elizabeth saw a muscle twitch in her husband’s jaw. It was true, and yet so far from the truth of their situation now. Mrs Cuthbert went on. “A pity you could not afford to send your sister to a warmer climate for the sake of her lungs.”
“Mother Cuthbert, Lizzy said that Miss Darcy was too ill and in too much pain for even a carriage ride, let alone an ocean voyage.” Jane gave Darcy a sorrowful look, and he nodded his thanks.
Elizabeth could not allow Jane to manage Mrs Cuthbert for her any longer. “That was true, madam, but I will thank you not to imply that everything possible was not done for Miss Darcy. I assure you that Mr Darcy spared no expense or treatment.”
It felt good to defend her husband, and to speak her mind to Mrs Cuthbert, now that her situation in life was secure. No one would reprimand her, and there was no threat that she might be deprived orneglected. She had no reason to fear for her security, no cause to fret over being slighted and insulted.
“You are more of a man of means than Eliza led us to believe,” Mrs Cuthbert replied to Darcy rather than her. “I am surprised, then, that you did not look for a lady possessed of a better position in life than Eliza could boast. Robert is the best connexion she has.”
Darcy cocked his head. “Surely you do not imply that there is anything to be said against the character or situation of the Bennet girls?”
“Oh, why, no.” Mrs Cuthbert blinked and spoke quickly. “No, not at all. Jane married at fifteen. She is a pretty girl, a lovely hostess, and has given Robert four boys, and will likely give him more. But if you were in want of a wife whilst you were in Meryton, why did you choose Eliza when Lydia is prettier and five years younger?”
“Madam, you have no?—”
“Mr Darcy need not admit to any inquiry into the affairs of his heart,” Elizabeth interrupted Darcy and laid a restraining hand on his arm. “However,Iwill say that he enjoyed the conversation of a clever woman and yielded to his admiration of my beauty and abilities. I will thank you not to cast any aspersions against his choice, lest you give us any reason to exclude you from Pemberley.”
“Well”—Mrs Cuthbert sniffed and shifted in her seat, knocking one of the pillows over the arm—“I was just saying to your wife, Mr Darcy, how glad I am that she is wed. No one wishes to support an old maid.”
“Elizabeth married at twenty-one.That is hardly old enough for anyone of sense to assume she would never marry.” She could tell that Darcy was scarcely keeping his patience. He could not tolerate to hear anyone speak against her, let alone cause her any unease. “And even if a woman does not marry, I would never consider an unmarried female relation a burden.”
Mrs Cuthbert gave a condescending smile. “Hopefully, you will be like Robert—and me—and have only sons. An unmarried daughter or sister can be a trial or a burden, or both. There have been few spinsters in the Cuthberts’ connexion. Not at all desirable, you know.”
Darcy clearly had no idea what to say, and rather than speak out of turn against his hostess, he bowed and moved to the other side of theroom to suffer more dull talk about the Exchange. She knew he wanted to say as much to Mrs Cuthbert as he had said to Mary and Mr Collins, but she had told Darcy that speaking his mind against Robert’s mother would only cause a strain to Jane.
The children soon came in to see their aunt and say goodnight, and for a while they garnered the notice of the room, as they seemed to think it as good a place as a garden to run about in. Jane coaxed them all to shake hands with their new uncle, and Mrs Cuthbert offered them too many sweet things.
“Such lively, clever little boys.” Mrs Cuthbert heaved as she settled back into the sofa. “You shall have to begin quickly if you wish to have a value to match your married sisters.”
“I beg your pardon?” Elizabeth asked as she passed the baby to his nurse.
“Mary wed at seventeen and produced an heir immediately, and is to have another, and Kitty is already expecting. You did not marry until twenty-one. Jane had three boys by then, fine boys. Mr Darcy will expect sons, as any man of sense would. Since he has an estate, it is all the more important that you do not have a girl, at least not at first.”
“My value to Mr Darcy has absolutely nothing to do with my being a brood mare, and I shall thank you to keep any opinions about me to yourself.” Elizabeth rose to play with her nephews before they went to sleep, and to put it out of her power to be as rude to Mrs Cuthbert as she deserved.
She could now manage Mrs Cuthbert, but Elizabeth still gazed at Darcy for courage. He was listening in absolute seriousness to two-year-old Thomas chatter on about his top, but Darcy raised his eyes above the little boy’s head to give her an affectionate look.
She once might have been alarmed to know that a man’s admiration and confidence could support her through any trial, but the truth was Elizabeth had lost her mettle a long time ago. She had been essentially homeless, unwanted, unloved. Facing death had led her to take actions for herself for the first time in years, and ultimately led her to a partner and a situation that would assure her happiness.
When they were in their carriage on their way back to Charles Street, Darcy took her hand. “I can well understand why livingamongst the Collinses and the Cuthberts would cause you such distress, anxiety, and melancholy that it made you feel as though you might die.”
“Mrs Cuthbert says such rude things and has the strangest yet most firmly held beliefs about the value of men and boys over women and girls, and she presumes all the world is in agreement with her.” She sighed. “I wish people who carry their heads in the clouds with such notions would take their bodies away with them.”
“That would require a rather large balloon to support the significant weight of both Mrs Cuthbert and all of her foolish opinions.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
She awoke to Darcy’s lips moving gently over hers. Every evening, Elizabeth had an earnest longing to be in bed with her husband, and although Darcy kept her awake late into the night—with either vigorous, heart-racing action or a slower, sweeter thrill—she then fell into a sound sleep and awoke perfectly revived, in excellent spirits. Sometimes, she was fortunate enough to convince him that he rose too early and that he ought to revive both of their spirits again before they began their day.
