Page 11 of Requirements for Love (Love in London with Mr Darcy #3)
She nodded eagerly. “Generous with his time, his help, his consideration, his wisdom. Generous with his money and his affection.”
“I suppose that is an attractive quality. I wonder if my mother considered it when she was young.”
“Was your father kind?”
“Without question,” he said immediately.
“He was benevolent and amiable with everyone. He was compassionate to his children and his wife. Charitable to the poor, as well.” He smiled to himself at the memories.
“He told me to never give a servant a task I was not willing to do myself. There are many things I do not know how to do, but if I am unwilling to learn and do it if I must, then I should not demand it of someone in my employ. Of course, it would appal my servants if I set my own fire or saddled my own horse.”
What would his father say if he knew he called a woman not handsome enough to dance with? He must do better. Eager to turn the attention from himself, he asked, “Is your father kind?”
“No,” she murmured. “He is not. Nor is he ruthless,” she added hurriedly.
“He mocks my mother. All of us, actually, although less so me because I am quick enough for him. But no, he is not generous with his time or affection.” While he watched her in compassionate silence, he saw how she forced herself back into cheerfulness.
“So, requirement number one is kindness.”
The thought that he would be generous with his time and affection for his wife pressed on Darcy’s heart. And a large part of his heart still wanted that wife to be Elizabeth.
“Kind, and tall enough to dance with,” he said, moving toward the door as though he could put distance between himself and his emotions if he was not near to her. “I suppose someone five foot eight or nine would suffice? I think the friends I spoke to today are at least that tall.”
Despite how he had acted toward those outside of his circle, he would act better in the future. He knew he could be a good husband who was kind to his wife and children.
But that did not mean he could align himself with a family like Elizabeth’s.
The following morning, Elizabeth rested in the drawing room while the Darcys and Mrs Annesley went to church, and when they returned, Colonel Fitzwilliam was with them.
“How is the invalid?” he asked cheerfully as he sat by her side.
“Rather sore, still, I must admit, although I wish I could move about on crutches.”
“But do you not enjoy having Darcy at your beck and call?” he asked with a wink at his cousin. “I understand he has to carry you from room to room all day long.”
“Only rarely. I do not wish him to throw out his back,” she said in the same lively tone. “Then poor Miss Darcy will be the only one left who can move under her own power.”
“Helping Miss Bennet about the house is no trouble,” said Mr Darcy.
“I hate to give advice unasked for,” the colonel said to her, ignoring his cousin, “and to a new acquaintance at that, but you ought to force him into your service more often. It might do him good to humble himself.”
“And you think you are an excellent teacher on the subject of humility?” Mr Darcy asked in an expressionless tone .
Colonel Fitzwilliam drew back in mock outrage. “I am a modest man. There is not a man more unpretentious than me.”
“Then, please, teach me your humble ways. As the second son of an earl, one of the wealthiest noblemen in England, you are best situated to instruct me. The example of your lower dignity and importance will be an inspiration.”
“I would rather talk with Miss Bennet.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam made a great show of shifting his body from his cousin and focusing his attention on her. She was willing to listen to the cousins taunt one another, but she wanted to talk with the man who had helped her on the street two days ago.
After half an hour, Colonel Fitzwilliam rose to walk in the Green Park. “On Sundays in particular, it is always extremely crowded with genteel and well-dressed company,” he said. “So naturally, Darcy must go.”
“She will not believe you,” Mr Darcy said, rising to join him. “She thinks me too unsocial and taciturn to enjoy any public interaction.”
Elizabeth shook her head, amused. “Do your best to be patient with the masses beneath your exalted notice.”
Mr Darcy bowed solemnly. “By your command.” To his sister, he asked, “Would you like to join us?”
Miss Darcy shyly shook her head. “Miss Bennet and I must work on our project.”
“Ah yes, the matchmaking scheme,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I heard that Miss Bennet is to be married by the end of the season to one of Darcy’s friends. Best of luck.”
After the gentlemen left, Miss Darcy collected her writing things, and Mrs Annesley rose to leave.
“You are welcome to stay,” Miss Darcy said to her.
She shook her head. “You do not need an old lady hanging about while you come up with qualities for beaux.”
Miss Darcy’s companion was forty at the most. “But you might have excellent advice for me.”
“You girls will do well enough planning on your own. I will stay in the room when these suitors call. ”
Mrs Annesley gave Elizabeth a little private smile before leaving.
“Have you given more thought to what qualities you require of your future husband?” Miss Darcy asked when they were alone. “What is the first thing he must have?”
“Kindness,” she answered. “I have been thinking about it since last night, and that must be first on the list.” Miss Darcy wrote, but she wore a sceptical look. “Do you not approve?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh no,” she cried. “Generosity and a kind manner are important.” She blushed and stared at the paper. “I only thought you might have some preference as to what he looked like.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I am not opposed to handsomeness, but character matters more. And a plain man would grow more attractive to me the more I grew to like him.”
“That is true,” Miss Darcy agreed. “I will not write it down, but have you any preference for hair or eye colour?”
“None,” she said. His nature mattered more than if he had brown hair or blue eyes.
Or lovely forearms. She was not likely to see any gentleman’s forearms unless perhaps at their own homes on a summer day in the sun.
Men always covered from wrist to jaw, whereas a lady’s evening dress put nearly everything on display.
“Then we will centre our thoughts on character. That will make it easier for Fitzwilliam to choose amongst his friends. Besides, he might not have the same notions of what makes a man handsome as we do.”
Elizabeth thought about how Mr Darcy had teased about the same topic last night.
That was after they had a rather serious discussion about his character.
“I would like someone who would let me sport with him. It is too much ingrained in my nature to suppress it for a man too serious to be laughed at.”
Miss Darcy dipped her quill. “‘Willing to be sported with.’ Must he be lively? Charming?”
“Not as lively as me,” she said quickly. If two people in a marriage were exactly the same, then one of them was redundant. “Someone who can appreciate my satirical eye and can laugh at himself and the world a little, but not someone whose first object is a joke. ”
“I wonder if a man who loved you would allow you to tease him, even if he permitted it from no one else.”
“It might be difficult to tell that sort of manner right away, but someone who was truly amiable and amenable to my manner would probably let me tease him. I will make certain I can tease him before I fall in love with him!”
Miss Darcy laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “What else?”
Elizabeth thought for a while. “I think I need someone rather clever. Not because intelligence is the most important thing, but I would grow to resent someone who had too much absence of mind or had little knowledge of the world. It would not be fair to lose respect for them if the greatness of their mind was not what I know I need.”
“You want to look up to your husband and admire his judgement,” Miss Darcy said as she wrote. “That is sensible.”
“And if he has any sense, he will also admire my judgement and abilities. He should also respect my family. That can be number four.” She knew her closest relations had faults.
Their behaviour was not always genteel, their actions embarrassing.
But she loved them and they loved her; so too must the man she tied her life with.
Miss Darcy now wrote rather slowly. “Must they like him?” To Elizabeth, she seemed distracted or sad.
“It would help,” she said honestly, “but I am uncertain it is essential. My mother just wants me married with enough attention to money that I have a roof over my head and food on the table. Jane wants me happy, and my aunt wishes for me to marry prudently and be happy.” How distressing that some women could not have both.
Her friend Charlotte married for situation and security.
There was no affection between Mr Collins and Charlotte.
“What will matter is if I like him. If I love him, my family will love him for my sake. And so I want my future husband to feel the same about my family.”
For a moment she was lost in thought, but when Elizabeth took a closer look at Miss Darcy, she noticed she looked near to crying.
“What did I say?” she asked in some alarm.
“Nothing,” she said, sniffling. “You are right. Family opinion matters, and the respect a man shows to your family also matters. ”
Elizabeth handed her a handkerchief as a few tears fell. “But why are you crying?”
She hung her head and did not answer for a long time. “I was not as wise as you. And I nearly made a very poor choice.”
Mr Darcy had hinted at her disappointment with a boy.
Elizabeth imagined a stable hand smiling at Miss Darcy and then her imagining he was in love with her.
The dear girl fell for someone unsuitable and was a little crossed in love.
“Did you, perhaps, like a young man who was not the sort of husband your brother would approve of?”