Page 29 of Mrs Darcy’s Dilemma
“Oh, no! I am not so silly as to require a season, I hope I have more serious thoughts in my head than that,” said Jane, “and besides, you know Frederick—” she pronounced his name shyly—“says we shall certainly take a house in town, so we shall see all that is going on. And perhaps we can go to Buxton in the summer, dear Buxton, where it all happened.” She picked up her skirts and danced around the room.
“It was the loveliest thing imaginable—there were private balls, and the opera, and I so enjoyed staying at Aunt Georgiana’s house, the new baby is a love, and oh, Mama, I never knew Frederick so well before.
He is all I could ever want in a man. I never suspected he was so very fond of me.
I am so glad his hair is dark; I should not like a light man at all; and it is so nice that Henry likes him so much.
Everything is so perfect, if only you think that Papa will not mind. ”
“He will miss his daughter, of course, but you are not going very far away,” said her mother fondly, “and he will be happy to see you in such hands.”
“Oh! If Fitzwilliam were all well, and if Henry could only be as happy as I am! Then I should have nothing in the world to wish for. Mama, I am sorry you were not successful in bringing Cloe with you. He is excessively disappointed.”
“He loves her then? You think so, do you?”
“Indeed he does. I have been observing him narrowly. He blushes and starts when her name is mentioned, quite lover-like, you know. And besides, he has told me.”
“What has he told you? That is—do not repeat it, if it violates a confidence between you—but I confess I should like to know.”
“Oh, there’s no harm. He told me all about it, and he should not dislike your knowing. That he loves her, and told her so long ago, but she would bury herself in Kent, and now Hertfordshire, all to avoid him. It is so sad, poor boy.”
“We did invite her,” said Mrs. Darcy, concerned, “but she would not come. I am sure she likes him, though I do not know how far it would be right to manoeuvre to bring them together. It is safest to leave it as it is, perhaps. I do not like to meddle.”
“Oh, Mama, I hope never to grow older if I am to become so careful and prudent as that. You would think you had never been in love. Henry is unhappy without her, I tell you—and she is such a charming and deserving young woman, I should so like to have her for my sister. It is dreadful for her to be a governess. What is your hesitation? Why did not she come here?”
“Why, indeed,” said her mother with a sigh. “Well: you must invite her to your wedding.”
“May I?” asked Jane, smiling. “My wedding! When will it be? Perhaps in May or June? That is not too soon.”
“My love, we are getting ahead of ourselves. It is not right to speak of such things until your father has approved it all. You had better go to him at once, and mind, it is not an engagement until he says so. Frederick is in Buxton, is he? And he comes tomorrow?”
“Yes; you will be quite settled in by then, I know, and Papa at leisure.”
Lord Frederick did arrive before noon the following day, and by the time the family sat down to dinner, he had gained the blessings of both parents.
Mr. and Mrs. Darcy smiled upon their daughter, who never stopped chattering; Henry could not congratulate his friend enough.
To crown all, he was taken upstairs to stand by Fitzwilliam’s bedside and receive the invalid’s hearty congratulations, while the aunts watched the performance with great critical interest.
“Now, Frederick—you had better take care of my sister, or I shall have to get up and see to you,” Fitzwilliam feebly quizzed his brother in law elect.
“That will hardly be necessary, old boy. Jane has informed me that she can take care of herself, and she is such a nineteenth-century young lady, there will be nothing for me to do.”
“Excuse me, but I do not know how modern she is,” said Aunt Mary earnestly.
“I have never yet succeeded in making her read The Last Days of Pompeii , and I wish she would—it is true it is only a novel but so instructional. She will not be a well-read wife, I fear, Lord Frederick, though I have tried to make her so.”
“I am sure you have had more success than you credit yourself with, Mrs. Smith,” said Lord Frederick, in a mood to be amiable to all the world.
“In my view she has read quite enough, but as for housekeeping, she knows next to nothing,” sniffed Mrs. Clarke. “You know it is true, Lizzy—painting and singing are all very well, but has she ever opened a receipt book? Will she be able to manage her household? I very much doubt it.”
“Why, I have been watching Mama all my life, Aunt,” said Jane serenely. “Watching is the best teaching.”
Before going to bed that happy night, Jane did not omit to write of her joy to Cloe, carefully wording a most urgent invitation to come to the wedding; but by return of post came the reply, full of earnest wishes for Jane’s happiness, but with a firm and decided refusal of the invitation.
She could not leave her duties, would not if she could, did not wish to be indebted to the Darcys for transportation, and thought it wisest not to come to Pemberley—but Jane would understand.
Jane did understand, and she told her lover, “We will have to devise another way to get Cloe here. I will think of one; you may trust me for that. I want Henry to be as happy as I am.”
“You are happy, then?” he asked her, as they passed under a flowering apple-tree in Mr. Darcy’s garden—her answer fully occupied them for a considerable time.