J ane tapped softly on the door to their mother’s bedchamber while Elizabeth waited just behind her.
Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley had been escorted to their father’s study, while Mary had explained to Jane and Elizabeth that their mother was suffering from a fit of nerves.
Apparently, there was to be a guest arriving at Longbourn today.
One who was the source of many of their mother’s fears – the heir to the estate – a Mr. Collins, who was their cousin in some fashion.
“Mama, Lizzy and I have returned and brought Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy with us,” Jane said when their mother’s maid had opened the door. “They are currently speaking with our father, but Mary has requested that tea be brought to the drawing room for after their interview with Papa.”
Their mother sat up on the chaise lounge on which she liked to recline when feeling overwhelmed with some little bit of anxiety. “Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy came with you, you say?”
Jane sat down next to their mother on one side, while Elizabeth took the other.
“And they are both speaking to Papa,” Elizabeth said.
“Both?” Her mother’s eyebrows rose high over wide eyes. “For any particular reason?”
“Yes, Mama,” Jane said. “It seems you may have two daughters wed before too long.”
Their mother looked like she might need to have another lie down at that information. Excitement mingled with confusion in her little gasps and short “oh’s” as her attention shifted from Jane to Elizabeth and back.
“It seems that our strange Lizzy is just the sort of lady that Mr. Darcy prefers,” Jane said.
Their mother blinked. “But he said that horrid thing about her.”
“Yes, he did, and he is properly sorrowful for having done so. In fact, he has asked for and been granted forgiveness,” Jane said. “Apparently, he is not so stupid as you proclaimed him to be in the carriage on the way home from the assembly.”
“And, he is also not so severe and cold as we may have thought,” Elizabeth added. “Indeed, he can be very agreeable. It is just that he is reserved and proper.”
“Huh.” Their mother seemed to be lost for words.
“His cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and his sister have been invited to join him at Netherfield for the ball,” Elizabeth continued. “I do not know, however, if his sister will be allowed to attend since she is not out yet.”
“But is she not Lydia’s age?” Mrs. Bennet asked in surprise.
“She is.”
“And she is not out?”
“No, she is not.”
“Hmmm. How very strange, but I suppose that is how they do things in Mr. Darcy’s circles.
It is far easier for a man of means to provide for an unwed sister or daughter than it is a man of moderate to little means.
” Mrs. Bennet rose from her place and straightened her gown.
It appeared that her fit of nerves was over.
“What do you know about this Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
Yes, indeed, she had moved from overwhelmed with worry to likely conjuring some marriage plot.
“He is just one year older than Mr. Darcy, and he is the second son of the Earl of Matlock.” Elizabeth knew that such information would only add fuel to her mother’s matchmaking fire, but it would also guarantee that all thoughts of fanning herself and calling for her salts would be pushed completely out of her mind.
As expected, the information arrested their mother’s attention, and all activity stopped for a full half-minute before she slowly turned towards Elizabeth.
“The second son of an earl and a colonel?” She blew out a breath.
“Mary might not be too young for him, I suppose, and red is a very good colour on her.”
“Mama,” Jane said, “Mary will not be wearing a scarlet coat even if she catches his eye.”
Mrs. Bennet waved the comment away. “She will have to stand next to him in the portrait for the long gallery at Matlock, so it is good if the artist does not have to alter her complexion to match the colonel’s uniform.
Oh!” she cried in delight. “Just imagine the visitors of the house being led past my daughter’s portrait as they tour the grand home.
” She clapped her hands. “Well, it seems there is much to do. We may be saved after all if Lizzy can secure Mr. Darcy as she seems determined to do, and if Mary can make a favourable impression on the colonel. Do you know what type of lady he prefers?”
“I would imagine one with a fortune.” There was a note of caution in Jane’s reply. “He is a second son who is used to living in luxury and likely will need his wife to bring a fine purse with her to put into his coffers.”
Again, their mother waved the words away as if they were a pesky fly trying to take a taste of her tea.
“I am certain he has a fortune of his own, and if it is even barely modest, a pretty face and pleasant manner can present a temptation to any man.” Her brow furrowed.
“Do you think we can convince Mary to wear a bit of lace and allow my maid to do her hair in a softer style? I do think I could spare her service for such a purpose.”
Their mother was the only lady in the house to have a maid assigned to her and her alone. The rest of them helped each other and shared one maid between them. Mary preferred to see to her own preparations each day. The result was a very plain and simple presentation.
“I shall be very sad to leave this home when the time comes,” she said as she left her room.
“But it shall be much more bearable if I have the homes of such wealthy daughters to visit.” She turned towards her two eldest daughters as they reached the top of the stairs.
“And with such connections as you three shall have, Lydia and Kitty will surely marry just as well, if not better.”
And with that, their mother hastily descended the stairs and entered the drawing room.
“At least she is no longer melancholy,” Elizabeth whispered.
Jane laughed. “Indeed. Though I do not even know him, I rather pity the colonel.”
Their mother scurried out of the drawing room to the foot of the staircase just as Jane and Elizabeth had reached it.
“Do you know if the colonel is handsome?” she asked Elizabeth in a whisper that was incapable of concealing anything.
“Sadly no, I do not,” Elizabeth said. “Mr. Darcy did not say, and I did not ask. I thought it would be a very poor way to encourage his admiration.”
“Oh… well… yes, to be sure.” She sighed as if thoroughly disappointed. “I suppose I will just have to discover that on my own.”
“Or you could wait until the colonel arrives,” Elizabeth suggested. Not that it was a suggestion her mother would heed.
“Oh, do not be foolish, Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet scolded. “Now, hurry. You want to be in your places when the gentlemen join us.”
With a shake of her head and a sigh, Elizabeth followed her mother into the drawing room and took a seat near Mary that left enough room for Mr. Darcy to sit with her and Mr. Bingley to sit with Jane.
“Mama seems to be doing much better,” Mary said. “I take it she found your news about Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley reviving to her spirit?”
“That, and she has settled upon a matchmaking scheme, though I do not think it has been thought out completely.”
“A scheme? For whom?”
Elizabeth smiled at Mary. She knew her sister was not going to like this news.
“No! Me?” She looked perfectly horrified.
Elizabeth nodded. “Mr. Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, has been invited to Mr. Bingley’s ball, and you are Mama’s next daughter to see attached to someone.
Therefore, you may find yourself compelled to wear some embellishments on your dresses and style your hair in a more alluring fashion.
” As suspected, Mary’s response was to shake her head and heave a heavy sigh.
“I do not want to marry a man for whom I must appear to be something that I am not.”
“We have not met him yet,” Elizabeth cajoled. “Perhaps he will prefer simply dressed and styled ladies, and Mama will find she does not need to alter you at all.”
“I will not be altered,” Mary said firmly.
Elizabeth laughed. “While I am sure that is true, you know Mama will try.” Their mother considered a refusal as the beginning of discourse, not the end of it. “You may as well strengthen yourself for the battle.”
Again, Mary sighed heavily.
“And I will warn Mr. Darcy about the scheme if Mama does not do that herself when she inquires about the handsomeness of the colonel.”
Mary covered her face with her hands. “Why? Why must our mother be as she is?”
“Because if she were not, she likely would not have married our father, and we would not have each other for sisters.”
This was met by a huff. “While that makes sense – and I despise that it does – it does not make me complacent to what is.”
“She has decided already that you are to have your portrait painted, standing next to the colonel in his uniform – because red is becoming on you – and that the painting will hang in the portrait gallery at Matlock.” Their aunt had told them tales about how lovely that stately home was. She had toured it once as a girl.
Mary blinked. “Why at Matlock?”
“Because the colonel’s father is the earl.”
Mary’s eyes grew wide. “Has Mama lost control of all her faculties? Me? Married to the son of an earl?” She shook her head. “As if that was even close to possible.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “You are worthy of the greatest and noblest of men, my dear sister.”
“I am not. I am cross far more than I should be. I take pride in my accomplishments. I try to stand forward ahead of all my sisters because my pride is so fragile. My tongue is sharp. My manners are harsh at times. And those are just the beginning of my shortcomings.”
“If they are shortcomings, and I am not saying they are, what hinders you from amending them?”
“You may as well ask what hinders Dottie from pulling the carriage.”
Dottie was a mule. A sweet but excessively mulish mule.
Elizabeth chuckled. “I do believe if Dottie took it into her head to move the carriage, she would, so your argument only proves that you must desire the change.”