It was impossible not to feel flattered at the compliment. “Nor could I, Mr. Darcy. I was fortunate in that my father agreed with him—my mother did not, and she was not shy about stating her opinion.”
This appeared to be a piece of information he either had not possessed or to which he had given little thought. “Your mother wished for the match?”
“You must understand my mother, Mr. Darcy. Mama has long feared the entail would leave her destitute. As there will be little money to support us should my father pass on unexpectedly, she compensates in the only way that makes sense to her—by hoping for her daughters to make good marriages.”
Mr. Darcy considered this. “Thatdoesmake sense from a certain point of view. Then you do not share your mother’s fear of the entail?”
Choosing her words carefully, Elizabeth said: “I understand the situation, Mr. Darcy, and I do not underestimate the challenges of genteel poverty. However, while my mother wishes to see us all—and herself—supported through marriage, she takes no thought for situation and temper, or her daughters’ wishes in life. To me, there is no more disagreeable notion than to marry a man who will make my life miserable. Such a life is less tolerable than even subsisting on very little.”
Mr. Darcy grew quiet, and Elizabeth wondered what he was thinking. If it had been only a week ago, she might have suspected he thought her imprudent for her convictions. Now, however, she was trying to see him in a different light—his behavior that day did not suggest disgust for her idealism. Even so, she could not imagine what form his answer would take.
“I must commend you for your convictions, Miss Elizabeth,” said the gentleman at last. “Many would behave like your friend, and no one would say they were anything but prudent.”
“I understand prudence, but I do not wish to be ruled by it.
“As for Mama . . .” Elizabeth shrugged. “She has good reasons for her opinions, though mine are different. My mother is not all naked ambition, though she often gives the impression of it. Her heart is in the right place, though I do not always appreciate her methods.”
“Then whatdoyou want in a marriage?”
“The same as any other romantic woman of my position in society,” replied Elizabeth. “Love, respect, a husband who adores me and makes me the center of his life.”
“What of the man’s situation?” pressed he. “Surely you wish to marry a man who can give you a life of fulfillment.”
“Of course,” said Elizabeth. “Yet fulfillment may mean different things to different people. If I loved a man and knew he could give me a comfortable situation, Iwouldmarry a parson as readily as I would marry a prince. It all hinges on my estimationof the man in question, and whether I am convinced of his love and respect for me.”
“That is all well and good, Elizabeth,” said Mrs. Bennet, having caught something of the conversation. “But you would do well to recall that men who can support you are not plentiful.”
“I never said they were, Mama,” replied Elizabeth.
Mrs. Bennet eyed her. “Then I hope you consider that should you receive another offer of marriage.”
“I shall, Mama. Of that you may be certain.”
That satisfied Mrs. Bennet as much as she could be satisfied, given her continued complaints of ill use in the matter of Mr. Collins. Mrs. Bennet did not receive the assurance she desired, though Elizabeth knew her mother would consider her acceptance a fait accompli should she receive another proposal. Mr. Darcy, she noted, appeared to understand this, though he married understanding with a determination not to provoke her mother by revealing the true meaning of her response. Not that she thought the gentleman would concern himself, regardless.
“Tell me, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, lowering his voice and leaning in closer, “do you have another man in mind to assume the role that Mr. Collins did not fulfill the way you wished?”
Elizabeth chuckled softly to avoid her mother’s scrutiny. “In saying this, you suggest I anticipated Mr. Collins’s addresses.”
“Not at all,” replied Mr. Darcy. “But you are a young woman of marrying age—as a romantic, which you own yourself, do you not wish for a suitor?”
“I would not be opposed if one stepped forward. Yet to say I am looking for one is also not accurate.”
“Pardon me, but are you of age?”
The conversation had become surreal, but Elizabeth endeavored to answer. “I shall be one and twenty in July. As my father declined to force me into matrimony with Mr. Collins, youmust understand that I have full autonomy over my life, whether or not I am of age. Should I accept a man’s offer before I come of age, my father will not object. On the other hand, should I reject another proposal, I have my father’s full support.”
Mr. Darcy nodded, deep in thought. Then he changed the subject.
“As Bingley mentioned, my sister is to join us at Netherfield tomorrow. I hope I do not ask too much if I request to introduce her to your acquaintance.”
“Not at all, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth. “I am eager to know her. After all, no less an authority than Miss Bingley has declared your sister to be a dear, sweet girl.”
As Elizabeth had expected, Mr. Darcy made a face. “Though Miss Bingley claims an intimate acquaintance with Georgiana, my sister does not return the sentiment. Georgiana is shy and finds Miss Bingley overwhelming.”
“Then perhaps you can share your insights of your sister, Mr. Darcy—you must know her far better than Miss Bingley could ever claim.”
Mr. Darcy agreed, and they spent the balance of the visit speaking of the man’s sister. Though Elizabeth was certain affection colored his account of his much younger sibling, Elizabeth suspected his impression was far more accurate than Miss Bingley’s toadying compliments. And Elizabeth grew impatient to make Miss Darcy’s acquaintance—she was convinced she would find the girl lovely and amiable.
