Page 6 of The Shades of Pemberley

That, of course, set Mrs. Bennet off; she spoke at great length and energy about the disagreement between mother and daughter.

As was often her custom, Mrs. Bennet became so consumed with stating her opinion that she took little heed of whether her audience was listening to her pontificate, allowing Elizabeth to exchange glances and fits of laughter with her friend.

Jane, who had promised to help Elizabeth endure her mother that morning, patiently listened to her diatribe, trying to distract her with various comments, but Mrs. Bennet was like a horse with the bit in its teeth that morning, refusing to be moved.

Mary, Kitty, and Lydia had all had the good sense to avoid them altogether, for Mary was in the little parlor practicing the pianoforte, while Kitty and Lydia had left as early as they could to walk into Meryton.

No one can continue in such a fashion for long, for venting such feelings must take a toll on the aggrieved, and in time, Mrs. Bennet allowed Jane to distract her with some matter of the breakfast they had already decided.

Soon, Mrs. Bennet was speaking of the event she hoped would remain in the memories of her neighbors as her greatest triumph, allowing Elizabeth and Charlotte to engage in a little quiet conversation.

“Your mother is indefatigable, Lizzy.”

Risking a glance at her mother, Elizabeth turned back to Charlotte and said: “I shall not say you are incorrect. If Mrs. Darcy did not have such a deft touch with her, I might fear for my very sanity!”

“Just remember, my dear, that your mother wants you to have a special day. That thought will sustain you when tempers flare.”

Privately, Elizabeth thought her mother’s insistence was as much for the aforementioned desire to amaze the neighborhood with the fineness of her arrangements for her first daughter’s wedding.

Not wishing to sound like an ungrateful daughter, however, she avoided that subject in favor of other topics.

For a time, they spoke agreeably of matters of little consequence common to long acquaintances.

“Well, Lizzy,” said Charlotte after a time of this, “you appear in the best of spirits, eager to meet your destiny. I cannot be happier for you, for I know you have always wished for this.”

Charlotte rarely allowed herself to wallow in maudlin wishes or self-pity for the uncertainty of her situation.

It was, Elizabeth knew, not the best, for as a young woman of seven and twenty and possessing little dowry, Charlotte was almost on the shelf, destined to become that most despised of all women—a spinster.

Elizabeth understood the way the world worked, but she had always lamented it, for her friend was an excellent woman who would make any man a creditable wife.

Yet she languished in Hertfordshire where single men were scarce, and all were competing for those who had some fortune to their name.

In some ways, however, Elizabeth knew she lacked true understanding of Charlotte’s predicament.

That she would marry Mr. Darcy had been a matter of certainty for Elizabeth since the time she had entered local society.

Though she could remember her mother’s fears for the future, she had never considered it.

Mrs. Bennet had calmed, knowing that Mr. Darcy found Elizabeth agreeable and wished to have her for a wife.

Elizabeth was fortunate, and she would never forget the uncertainty she had never had to face, even if she did not understand it.

“Do not concern yourself, Charlotte,” said Elizabeth, patting her friend’s hand with affection. “When William and I go to London for the season, we shall invite you to go with us. I shall play the matchmaker and ensure some man sees you for the gem you are and makes you an offer.”

“Thank you, Lizzy,” said Charlotte. “I believe I shall hold you to that promise.”

At that moment, the Netherfield party entered, receiving the enthusiastic greetings of all present. Charlotte rose at the same time, with a smile and a gentle comment that she should depart. Before she could retreat, however, Mrs. Darcy approached them with a warm smile.

“Miss Lucas,” said she, her affection clear as she grasped each of their hands. “How lovely it is to see you this morning. I had no notion you were interested in the arrangements for Elizabeth’s wedding.”

Charlotte grinned and shot a look at Elizabeth. “Trust me, Mrs. Darcy—had I known you would arrive to discuss such matters, I would have chosen the better part of valor and stayed at home.”

“Aye, perhaps that might have been for the best. Yet, with your sensible nature, I suspect your assistance would be invaluable to my future daughter.” Mrs. Darcy glanced at Mrs. Bennet, who was greeting William with all the manic affection of a future mother, afraid the groom would call off the whole affair at the last moment.

“Why, I declare you may have some success in taming even a mother’s concern and bringing harmony to all. ”

“Then it is fortunate you have no need of that,” replied Charlotte, “for I have every confidence that you are more than capable of filling the role.”

With that, Charlotte went away after exchanging a few more words, leaving Elizabeth in Mrs. Darcy’s company. Seeing William still in proximity to Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Darcy leaned in close.

“How are you, Lizzy?”

“I am well, but I will be grateful when this is all over.”

“You are not alone, my dear. When your nuptials are in the past, your mother will need to arrange Jane’s, or I am no judge of the matter at all.

” As she had suggested, Mr. Bingley was by Jane’s side, speaking with animation, much as he had every other time he had been in her company.

“You and I will only be involved peripherally, though I cannot but suppose you will wish to step in and save Jane’s sensibilities. ”

Elizabeth laughed. “Jane is much more patient than I am, and much more adept at turning my mother’s attention. I have no fear for my sister.”

“Then let us go to it,” said Mrs. Darcy.

In the end, Elizabeth’s future mother-in-law resolved the differences in a fashion both elegant and satisfying to all.

The compromise on the contentious issue of the flowers she accomplished so Elizabeth was satisfied with what they decided, and Mrs. Bennet felt she had carried her point; her mother’s self-satisfied smile in her direction proved that supposition without the possibility for error.

With that matter resolved, they made quick work of the few points that remained with tolerable ease.

Then, Mrs. Darcy, dear that she was, distracted Mrs. Bennet to allow Elizabeth a few precious moments with her beau before he needed to depart.

“Well, Elizabeth?” asked he, catching hold of her hand and holding it as if he never meant to let go. “Can you believe we shall be married within the next fortnight?”

“It hardly seems real,” replied Elizabeth. Then she laughed and said: “Then again, had you not dragged your feet, I was prepared to accept you even two years ago.”

“Then perhaps I should have judged better. You are not unhappy, I think, with how matters have proceeded.”

“Had I been blessed with a more rational mother, I might have been happier. On the whole, however, I believe I have little cause for complaint.”

“I am pleased to hear it,” replied William.

They spent the rest of their time together in this attitude, speaking about rational subjects, reminiscing about their past, and sharing their hopes for the future.

That they had discussed such subjects at length did nothing to make their discussion any less treasured or interesting.

For two such people in love, even the most banal of topics must be of the greatest consequence, knowing their love was shared, the greatest gift either could receive.

At length, the Darcys rose to depart with Mr. Bingley, and the Bennets saw them to the door and their carriage.

Elizabeth watched as the carriage disappeared through the gates and beyond the village on the road back to Meryton and then Netherfield in the distance, sighing and entering the house with the rest of her family.

“I declare, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet as the ladies settled back into the parlor, “you are fortunate to have attracted that gentleman, for he is the finest of my acquaintance.”

“Yes, Mama,” replied Elizabeth. “I am well aware of how fortunate I have been.”

Mrs. Bennet nodded as if she had made her point. “It has been no less than a surprise,” added her mother in a tone that suggested exaggerated nonchalance, “for I might have expected Jane to be the first of you to marry. She is the most beautiful and sweetest of my daughters.”

“With that, Mama,” said Elizabeth, looking to Jane, who was blushing at her mother’s praise, “I cannot disagree. Jane is the best of us to be certain.”

“Yet Mr. Darcy chose you,” said Jane, fixing both Elizabeth and her mother with a pointed glare. “Lizzy is no less worthy of the love of a good man than I am, or any of my sisters.”

Kitty and Lydia entered the room at that moment, their loud conversation announcing them before the door had even opened.

What exactly made up worthiness, Elizabeth could not say, but she was of the firm opinion that both girls required substantial maturity before they would be prepared to receive any man.

That they spent their days engaged in frivolous pursuits, flirting with the officers of the nearby regiment, and boasted of their conquests without a care for their reputations did not suit Elizabeth’s feelings.

Both girls were intelligent, and their father provided serious thought and education, but Mrs. Bennet saw nothing wrong in their behavior, and Mr. Bennet did not provide as much guidance as they needed.

Elizabeth hoped that after she was married, she and Mrs. Darcy could persuade her mother to rein in her youngest daughters.

“Mama!” exclaimed Lydia the moment she caught sight of them, “we had such a grand time in Meryton with the officers!”

“Oh, Lydia,” said Mrs. Bennet, proving that she did see something wrong with their behavior, though perhaps not for the correct reasons, “how I wish you would not go on about the officers. Your sister will marry a man of society, and I would not part with you to any man less than he.”

“But Mama!” cried Lydia, insensible to her mother’s desires. “I mean to marry an officer, for they are so handsome and dashing. There can be no better match for me than one of their number!”

“Nonsense, Lydia! This notion of marrying such a poor man as an officer is nothing but silliness. The officers of the regiment cannot even support themselves—how would they support you and any children you might have?

“No, my dear,” continued Mrs. Bennet when Lydia might have protested, “you shall have a man of society, a man who can support you. Mr. Darcy has many fine friends who would suit you admirably.”

Lydia huffed and threw herself into a chair, folded her arms, and fixed her mother with a mutinous glare. Mrs. Bennet, however, took no notice of her behavior, instead clucking her disapproval and declaring her certainty of the futures of all her daughters.

“Now that Mr. Bingley is paying such attention to your sister, I have hope that we will have a second marriage before long.”

“Mr. Bingley has made no declarations to me, Mama,” replied Jane, her cheeks again assuming a rosy hue.

“Not yet, Jane,” corrected her mother. “He has not known you long enough, after all. Mark my words, he will find himself in love with you before long and will waste no time in securing you for his wife.”

While it was so like Mrs. Bennet to declare such things without care for propriety, in this instance, Elizabeth could not disagree with her.

Mr. Bingley’s interest in Jane was marked, and Jane, while modest and reticent, appeared to like the gentleman very well, indeed.

As for the business of Mrs. Bennet’s assurances regarding her younger progeny’s future breaking the hearts of every man in London, Elizabeth could not say.

William’s position was promising, for all that he was not of the first circles himself, but her sisters’ fortunes were no more substantial than what Elizabeth possessed herself.

As her mother so often commented, Elizabeth felt all the good fortune of her situation, for her future husband esteemed her enough to marry her despite her lack of those virtues that so many in society thought essential.

Mr. Bingley seemed to be cut from the same cloth that produced Mr. Darcy, but could her sisters also hope to find such men for themselves?

Her experience had proven that it was possible, but she could not speak about how likely it was.

One thing was certain, however—if they did not modify their behavior, Elizabeth doubted any respectable man would look on them with anything other than derision.

To protect William’s position in society, they needed to be reformed, and the sooner the better.

Whether her mother would see the need was yet an open question. Elizabeth knew they needed to try.

DARCY’S HEART AND MIND were full of Elizabeth, thoughts of her interrupting conversation with his companions during their brief journey back to Netherfield.

While Elizabeth recognized her good fortune to be the object of the affections of such a man as Fitzwilliam Darcy, for his part, Darcy recognized she was a rare gem, the likes of which he would never find again.

Elizabeth worried about their position in society with her family as it was, but Darcy was more concerned about his happiness and that of his future bride.

The younger girls were what they were, and in Darcy’s mind were not beyond amendment.

They could take thought for such matters when they were married.

Thus, Darcy spent the entire journey lost in thoughts of his beloved, confident that she would be his in every way in less than a fortnight.

In this supposition, however, time would prove Darcy incorrect, for while they were at Longbourn, an express had arrived, containing news that would change Darcy’s life forever.

For those few exquisite moments, however, Darcy remained unaware of the upheaval awaiting him at Netherfield.