Mr. Darcy Came to Dinner (22 page)

“Excellent — and Bartholomew accompanied them?”

“Yes, sir. He has your instructions.”

“Very good. Miss Mary and Miss Kitty will get the items they need. It seems you have a free morning today.”

“I have some letter-writing that needs my attention. I look forward to hearing the music Miss Mary chooses this afternoon. I know Miss Kitty is excited about trying watercolors, so we shall use them first thing tomorrow. Is there anything you need, sir?” Assured he was fine, Mrs. Annesley left the pair.

Lydia pouted. “You see? She did not so much as acknowledge me! Everyone hates me!”

“And when was the last time you greeted Mrs. Annesley?” Darcy gently pointed out. “She is my sister’s companion. You are a lady of this house. It is your duty to speak to her first. Civility goes both ways.”

Lydia plopped into a chair. “I do everything wrong!”

“Your sisters show more proper behavior. You should follow their example.”

Lydia wagged her feet. “I suppose,” she admitted, showing no inclination to leave.

Darcy, too polite to have the girl removed from the room, bent back to his work. A few minutes passed, and after he made a few more notes for his planned letter to his solicitor, he was interrupted anew.

“What are you doing?” asked Lydia.

Darcy sighed. The girl was bored and thought nothing of breaking his concentration. “I am working. If you would excuse me — ”

“Are all those letters?” Lydia obviously could not take a hint.

“Yes. This stack is from my banker in Town,” he indicated a pile, “this stack is from my solicitor, and these letters are from Pemberley.”

“No invitations to parties? Just business matters?”

“Yes, just business matters.” Darcy did not say that he instructed his people not to forward invitations unless they were from a small, select group of people — his family or close friends.

“How boring! I thought you were rich. Do not rich people have people to take care of all that?”

“Miss Lydia, if I did not attend to matters such as these, I would not be rich for long.”

The girl seemed to think about that. “Papa gets letters of business, but he leaves most of those matters to the steward. Do you not have a steward?”

“I do, and he is a fine, intelligent, and hardworking man. But as I am ultimately responsible for Pemberley, we remain in close consultation.”

“I am glad we have Papa and our steward. I would hate to do all that work.”

“Well, there is only me.”

“Really? What about your father?”

“My father has been dead these five years, Miss Lydia.”

“Oh.” She seemed to think about that too. “I should hate it if anything happened to Papa. I mean, he teases me, and he can be strict, but . . . but he is my papa. You understand? Besides, Mama says if Papa died, Mr. Collins would have us starve in the hedgerows.”

Darcy recalled the tall, heavy, detestable man, and with sudden, furious resolve, silently promised himself,
Not if I have anything to say about it!

Lydia continued. “Is your mother gone, too?”

Darcy nodded. “It is just Georgiana and myself.”

“Oh. You are a good brother to Miss Darcy.”

“I try to be. She is all I have.” Darcy had no idea why he was opening his heart to this strange girl.

“She has beautiful dresses and pianofortes and jewels — she
does
have jewels, does she not? Big emeralds and rubies and pearls?” Lydia’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, I wish I had a rich brother!”

“There is more to being a good brother than dresses and trinkets. Georgiana has had the opportunity to study under masters of art, music, and literature. These are gifts that will last a lifetime, long after the dresses are rags and the trinkets are forgotten.”

Lydia deflated a bit. “I still wish I had them. Miss Darcy is very accomplished, though.”

“She has worked very hard to become so.”

“Miss Bingley thinks she is accomplished, but she is nothing to Miss Darcy,” Lydia said with no little spite. “Neither are we.”

“I disagree,” Darcy said. “True, you ladies have not had Georgiana’s advantages, but you and your sisters have made the most of what you have.”

“Perhaps. Lizzy is good on the pianoforte, and Jane does beautiful embroidery.” She gazed at the fireplace. “But the rest of us have no talent at all.”

“Miss Lydia, you do a disservice to your sisters. Miss Mary is working very hard to improve herself on the pianoforte, and Miss Kitty’s drawing is very fine.” He lowered his voice. “You should not tease your sister. She has done a lovely portrait of you.”

Lydia looked up, puzzled. “Is that so? She never showed that to me.”

“Can you blame her? She says you mock her work.”

Lydia shrunk back into the chair. “I . . . I do not mean to hurt her feelings! I just — oh!” She hung her head, as a tear ran down her cheek. “It is just that they can do all that and I cannot.”

“Have you tried?”

“Yes, but the pianoforte is so hard, and all my drawings look as if Cassandra had an accident on the paper.”

Darcy sat back, observing the wretched girl. “You remind me of someone I know.”

“Who? The village idiot?” she mumbled into her chest.

Darcy bit his lip so as not to laugh. “Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there were two sisters — two princesses. Both were very beautiful, but that was all they had in common. The elder princess was kind and good and paid attention to her lessons. She became very accomplished and attracted many admirers. She had her pick of any man in her father’s kingdom, and many knights and earls and dukes vied for her hand. But instead, she fell in love with an untitled gentleman, renowned for his wisdom, wealth, and good humor.”

The story caught Lydia’s attention as he continued. “Her father, the king, was surprised at his daughter’s choice and questioned her closely about it. She was steadfast and would not give up her lover, and in his turn, the gentleman made an excellent impression upon the king. The king granted his permission, and the pair made a very happy marriage. They raised their children to work hard, respect all people, and marry with affection.”

“Was the gentleman handsome?” asked Lydia.

“I suppose he was. Allow me to finish my story. The younger princess was not kind to those beneath her and did not attend to her lessons. She found them difficult. She was also very proud. She wanted to be the best at anything she did and cried very much when she was not. But she could never be as accomplished as her sister because she would not put forth the effort.

“She finally decided that if she could not be a true proficient, she would not try at all. Why should she play music or draw or write? She was a princess, after all. She would have people do that for her. She also decided that as she was a princess, she should marry only for rank and prestige.

“Unfortunately for her, tales of her pride and haughtiness were told throughout the kingdom. Few nobles wanted to spend their lives shackled to such an unpleasant woman, even if she were a princess. After many years, the king finally found a knight willing to marry her. The princess agreed, for she had no other suitors. However, the two did not get along, and their marriage was filled with acrimony. Their arguments would only end with his untimely death a few years later.

“The princess lived on as his widow, holding court in the knight’s ancestral home. Few came to visit, for those who did quickly tired of her boasting and conceit. To the end of her days, the princess would belittle her betters by proclaiming that her unimpeachable taste was superior to all, and that she would have been an extraordinarily accomplished woman if she had so desired it.”

“What a silly woman!” said Lydia, who had hung on every word. She paused a minute. “You think I am like the younger princess?”

Darcy smiled kindly. “You do not have to be. Look to your sisters’ example. Miss Mary and Miss Kitty went to Meryton not to buy bonnets or finery but to acquire items that will help them become accomplished in their chosen art.”

“I was wondering about that. Mary only spends her money on religious books, and Kitty has no money as I borrowed it all for a . . . ” Her voice trailed off. “Wait! How do you know what they are buying in Meryton? From what you said to Mrs. Annesley, you already knew!” She pointed accusingly at Darcy. “You do know!
You
are buying their music and paints!”

Caught, Darcy said nothing.

Lydia frowned. “Why are you doing that?”

“They truly wish to become proficient in their avocation.” He gave Lydia a hard look. “
And
they have been kind to my sister.”

“I am sorry about that!”

“So you have said.”

Bold as brass, the girl asked, “If I apologize to Miss Darcy, will you buy me something?”

“Do you believe I buy my friends or my sister’s friends, Miss Lydia?”

Lydia cringed. “I am sorry! I say stupid things sometimes!”

You seem to make a habit of it
, Darcy thought wryly. “Besides, do you have an avocation?”

“I do not know. What is an avocation?”

“Something you enjoy doing — something in which you want to become accomplished.”

“Oh.” Lydia looked out the window. “I do enjoy something, something above all else, but Papa will not let it become my
avocation
.”

Darcy shuddered to know what it could possibly be, but he had to ask for form’s sake. “What is it?”

“Riding.” She turned to him, visibly unhappy. “I love riding and jumping and all those good things, but Papa never lets us ride the horse! It is always being used on the farm. What is the use of
learning
how to ride if one never
gets
to ride?”

Of all the things Lydia could have mentioned, Darcy had to admit riding was one of the last things he expected. “Do any of your other sisters ride?”

“We all learned, but only Jane and I enjoy it. Lizzy is positively frightened of horses! I do not think she has been on one since her lessons. Mary and Kitty do not care one way or the other. I would say that Jane and I are the only ones who would like to be considered horsewomen.”

Lydia reinforced Jane’s revelation of Elizabeth’s aversion to horses, and it explained much about his accident. He set aside contemplation of the reasons for Elizabeth’s aversion until later, sat back in his chair, and studied the unhappy girl before him. “If you had a horse for your own use, what would you do?”

“Will you get me a horse?” cried Lydia hopefully.

Darcy held up his hands. “I did not say that! This is a speculative exercise. Imagine you owned a horse. How would you treat it? It is a great responsibility, owning a horse.”

“Oh,” she said disappointedly. “Well, I would ride him every day, of course. I would make sure the groom fed him well and that he had clean hay in his stall at all times. I would brush him and put ribbons in his mane and tail and feed him carrots. And . . . and” — she blushed — “I would bury my face in his neck and kiss him and smell him. I just love the smell of a horse!”

Darcy had to admit that he did as well.

“Nobody knows,” Lydia said, “but when I can, I go the barn and just sit with our horse and talk to him and give him sweets. The groom keeps my secret.”

Darcy smiled. “Being a good horsewoman is a worthy avocation.”

“Much good it will do me as I have no horse.” She smiled sadly. “Thank you for listing to me and not teasing me. I suppose I should go do my chores.”

“That would be best. And I must go back to my work.”

She rose from the chair and eyed the stack of papers. “Perhaps being rich is not good fun after all. Good day, Mr. Darcy.”

“Good day, Miss Lydia.”

Darcy had just returned to his stack of correspondence when Lydia had one last word from the door.

“Mr. Darcy? I am sorry about your father and mother. You must miss them.”

“Thank you, Miss Lydia.”
Yes, I do — every day of my life.

* * *

As much as Elizabeth wanted to go shopping with Miss Darcy, she was glad she met with Charlotte. Apparently, Mr. Collins had not ended his attentions. Rather, he seemed more determined than ever to secure a bride in Meryton, and he had selected Charlotte as the most agreeable candidate.

“Oh, Eliza,” cried her friend, “Mr. Collins is relentless! He has worked upon my mother’s desires that I secure a husband so diligently that she is acting in a manner more like your Aunt Philips!”

Elizabeth was not deceived by Charlotte’s choice of relation. She knew she meant to say
Mrs. Bennet
. Still, it was distressing that Charlotte should find herself in such a predicament! Her friend had begged her father to refuse any application from the pernicious parson, but she feared that he might give way if Lady Lucas demanded the marriage.

Once Charlotte returned home, Elizabeth directly petitioned her father to come to her friend’s aid. It took a quarter-hour to secure Mr. Bennet’s promise to talk to Sir William and tell the knight what he knew of Mr. Collins’s character.