Chapter Thirteen

As soon as Mr. Darcy left the parsonage Elizabeth let out a deep breath.

They had met, and while matters had begun exceedingly awkward, by the conclusion of the interview they had become… not quite easy with each other. Not in the way they had been before that awful night at the Netherfield ball, but not wholly uneasy.

Elizabeth had in great part expected Darcy to strictly avoid her while in Rosings on his necessary business. He had been grateful about Emily, but she had also once had the presumption to think he might favour her.

And that thought annoyed Elizabeth. Her presumption. He’d talked about her connections in trade when he said he had no interest in marrying her.

The fact was, Elizabeth thought he favoured her now.

He had by no means been easy.

He’d kept looking at her. Perhaps it was his own confusion and awkwardness, but it was impossible for Elizabeth to not strongly suspect that it was because he admired her person and liked to look at her.

She did not like that. His admiration might make her wonder again. She would not do that once more. She was done. She had wholly and completely put aside any hopes of that sort, and she would not let his renewed presence lead to her tormenting herself again.

She was not a fool.

Mr. Collins departed from the drawing room soon after Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam left the parsonage. He first said, “What a great compliment to us all! What a great compliment! Such kindness and condescension! Ladies, we must not presume too much upon Mr. Darcy’s kindness, but it was a great compliment to myself, and to Lady Catherine’s judgement in choosing me as her parson, was it not?”

After her husband happily absented himself, Jane said, “I know we owe this compliment to you .”

“Mr. Darcy mentioned that Emily wished to take a walk. A devotee of walking, and not yet two years of age. She shall never fail to appreciate the sublime in nature. She shall know and commune with every sort of tree, grass, leaf and bush. Darcy is an exemplary parent,” Elizabeth said.

“Walking is a most healthful activity, and if a person is to develop their spiritual faculties fully, they should commune regularly with nature,” was Mary’s contribution to the subject.

Jane looked at Elizabeth pointedly.

This made Elizabeth flush.

“I suspect,” Elizabeth lowered her voice to a faux whisper and said, “that delight in your husband’s company was the chief additional inducement.”

Even Mary giggled at that .

That evening, when all were going towards bed, Jane came to sit in Elizabeth’s room while she brushed out her long hair. An old habit, though usually Elizabeth sat in Jane’s room while Mr. Collins bustled about, making inane comments.

Jane did not like to climb the stairs in her present, blessed, state.

After several minutes of light conversation, Jane began with an awkward and serious tone, “Lizzy…” Her sister frowned as she worked the hair caught in the bristles out of the brush. After a pause she asked, “Is it possible… do you admire Mr. Darcy?”

“I am determined not to.” The reply came without any hesitation, and it rather surprised Elizabeth to hear her own confidence in this matter.

He had been as handsome as he ever had been. The simple fact was that her susceptibility towards him had never waned. She still had hidden in her trunks the fine silk handkerchief initialled with F.D. that she had borrowed from him.

Yes, she was determined not to let her susceptibility carry her away again.

This response did not satisfy Jane, who looked at her with a sorrowful expression as she wrung her hands before starting to brush out her hair again.

“He does not… Mr. Darcy is determined not to marry,” Elizabeth explained. “I shall not forget that he will not.”

Not again .

“Oh, Lizzy.” Jane hugged her. “You must find it so, so difficult, so painful to see him again. You need not dine with Lady Catherine. Not if you wish to avoid him. I’ll tell Mr. Collins—”

“No! — I was glad to see him. We are friends, and we will meet as common friends henceforth. No, I will not avoid him. I only shall avoid being on such terms of intimacy as before.”

Jane studied her. “Oh, poor Lizzy. You have developed an affection when you have no hope that it shall come to fruition. I beg you: Be cautious. You can return to London or Longbourn.”

“Stuff and nonsense!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “No! I will be with you. And I can command myself. I will not be a fool.”

Elizabeth did not encounter Darcy the next day, though she did meet Nell taking Emily and her youngest son around on a walk. Both children were of course quite shy with Elizabeth, as they had not seen her for months, but quickly enough Nell’s cheerful greeting of Elizabeth, and her loud exclamation of “Don’t you remember Miss Bennet?” set the small beings at their ease.

The young boy shouted and jumped about, while Emily stared at Elizabeth and said in a clear voice, “Be-ne.”

“That’s right, Miss Bennet.”

“Miss Be-ne.”

Elizabeth offered Emily her hand. “Miss Darcy, I am delighted to see you once more.”

That seemed to satisfy the girl, who seriously shook Elizabeth’s hand, and then repeated several times more, “Be-ne.”

“She has changed so much,” Elizabeth said.

“‘Tis what they do.”

Elizabeth walked with them for half an hour, and asked about how Emily had done, if there had been any illnesses, and Elizabeth heard the tale of how a week previous Emily woke crying constantly at night, because the poor dear was teething — but that Mr. Darcy absolutely refused the suggestion to call the doctor to lance her gums.

After Emily’s morning walk ended, and she returned to the estate for her nap, Elizabeth continued her own walk. She was more and more confident that his gaze on her the previous day had indicated admiration, attraction.

That proud, difficult, odious, handsome man!

It was easy enough to understand him, and to understand all that would follow from his character. He would show himself attracted to her once more, talk to her seriously, enjoy the conversation, and indulge himself, confident in the knowledge that he’d made it clear to her that she could have no expectations, and then eventually he would deny himself, because he liked to punish himself for his perceived crimes.

If only he had been driven chiefly by the dislikeable notions that he had once mentioned, a distaste for her connections, low position, and lack of fortune! She could then rail against him, detest him, and put the whole matter out of mind. In that case nothing could be helped.

But this whole matter could have been helped. If only Mr. Darcy was not such a fool.

That evening Elizabeth dressed for dinner with far more care than she ever had when it had been merely Lady Catherine whose gaze she was concerned about.

That she could not stop herself from scheming over her clothes for the best part of an hour enraged her. That odious, frustrating, difficult man!

She should think nothing of him.

But could she do more to make him unhappy in his resolution not to marry her if she wore the silver chain or the ruby cross? The sprigged muslin or the blue wool?

Of course it would all be the same. Mr. Darcy might be a keen enough observer of the female form to notice such matters, but they would not affect his fundamental judgement in the slightest.

Elizabeth prodigally scattered twice the sum of time in the arrangement of her hair as she ever had since coming to Jane’s house. Her sister observed her with some worry. At least Jane did not pester her further with her anxieties, thus requiring Elizabeth to once again make clear that she had no expectations.

She certainly did not.

By the time they’d begun their walk across the park, she was quite prepared to scream at Mr. Darcy, if he gave her half an excuse.

When they presented themselves at the drawing room, everyone made the proper bows and greetings. Darcy’s eyes immediately looked towards her, and they seemed to stop and widen. She smirked at him, as though to say, look as much as you wish, you’ll never do more than that.

His colour rose; his eyes remained wide.

That made her heart lighter and her mood angrier.

Emily was in the drawing room violently pushing herself back and forth on a solidly made rocking horse, watched by Nell, who occasionally darted nervous glances towards Lady Catherine.

Upon seeing them all, Emily ran over to Elizabeth — the shyness not having returned in the four hours since they wandered about in the grove this morning — and exclaimed, “Be-ne! Be-ne!”

Grinning, Elizabeth picked up the girl, “Hello, Miss Emily, and how do you do this evening?”

She pointed at her rocking horse and said, “Neigh! Neigh!”

Now that the greetings were done, while Elizabeth was occupied with Emily, Lady Catherine began speaking once more, clearly continuing the conversation that had occupied her before the entered the room. “Dismiss her to her previous role,” Lady Catherine said, pointing at Nell. “The child is weaned.”

“I will not,” Darcy replied through tight lips. “And I beg you not to discuss the matter in front of Emily and the person in question.”

“Oh nonsense, she is just a servant—”

“ That does not affect the matter.”

“I am determined to have this discussion with you. We will not delay. Nurse, go and take the child away. Now, do it.”

Nell looked quite frustrated as she glanced between Darcy, Lady Catherine, and Emily, who still sat in Elizabeth’s arms.

Darcy walked over to Nell, spoke to her for half a minute in a low voice, and then he said, “Come here, Emily.”

Emily squirmed to be put down, and she ran over to her father who picked her up, tossed her high in the air twice as she squealed, and then swung her about. Putting her down again, he said, “Now off you go to the nursery with Nell, and you’ll come down later in the evening after you eat. Nell will give you some of that cake you liked so much!”

“Cake!” cheered Emily, who happily went off with her nurse after having that promise made.

“And that is another matter,” Lady Catherine said. “A child must never be given leave to eat sweets. Only after they are an adult can their digestion manage sugar.”

“She likes the sugar very much,” Darcy replied. “And I do not permit her to eat an excess of pastries.”

“I never allowed Anne to eat any sweetmeats at all until she was four and ten,” Lady Catherine replied.

“And I have permitted Emily to eat cakes, and biscuits, sorbets and all matters of sugared delights frequently,” was Darcy’s reply.

“Her teeth shall rot out,” Lady Catherine prophesied.

“In moderation,” Darcy replied.

“But do dismiss the nurse before too much damage is done.”

“What damage?” was the clipped response.

“She has already formed a close attachment to the woman! You can see that clearly! It must be stopped, or else she will love a servant more than you.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam coughed and said, “Little chance of that, the way Darcy mothers the child. He dotes on her.”

“I do not adhere to this common notion,” Darcy said, “that a child must never be permitted to form a close attachment to any servant.”

“The lower orders do not have the delicacy and propriety of spirit which we have. That is why they are the lower orders. When you allow my grandchild to be alone with a servant, you expose her to notions and phrases that she cannot unhear.”

“And which notions are that? Which phrases specifically? Nell is an excellent woman, of excellent character, whose family has lived on my estate for generations, and her husband is a man of good character who Mrs. Reynolds depends on. I can trust her to not treat Emily in a way—”

“I do despise that name,” Lady Catherine replied peevishly. “Must you use it? Can you not refer to her as ‘the child?’ or ‘the girl’?”

Elizabeth winced.

The fact was that the behaviour of the two of them together was much like Elizabeth had expected to see. If she had not worried about Darcy’s feelings, she would have been delighted to watch the interplay.

Darcy’s jaw tightened, and from the way his eyes flashed, Elizabeth rather suspected that he wished to say something truly awful to his aunt.

“No matter how confident you might be in your nurse,” Lady Catherine added, “every family has a servant who they believe is different from the ordinary. But they make a terrible mistake when they allow their child to be too much in the presence of any servant, without the constant supervision of the parent. And worse, I have observed that you allow the girl to play with the woman’s own children. She will begin to think of herself as one of them .”

“One of who?” Elizabeth asked, unable to stop herself.

“The lower orders .”

“Ah, yes. Likely,” Elizabeth replied. “Every gentlewoman who I know, who ever ran about in childhood with a servant’s child, believes herself to be required to milk cows, cook her own food, and spin her own thread.”

“Do not be impertinent with me, Miss Bennet.”

“I apologize,” Elizabeth said, carefully repressing her smile. “But I am not wholly certain… What do you mean when you say that Emily will think about herself as a member of the lower orders?”

“She will have no dignity. She will not keep a sufficient distance between herself and the servants. She will let them speak to her familiarly,” Lady Catherine replied.

“That is not likely,” Darcy replied. “As she grows, she will certainly learn the proper manner of behaviour amongst those of her dependents who she holds in great affection. Furthermore, I constantly supervise Emily, and I am not sure what you recommend for me to do, unless you wish me to bring her to dinner.”

“Hire a woman of good character and good family, a gentlewoman fallen on difficult times to take charge of her now that she is weaned. There is no further reason for her to be on any terms of intimacy with persons not well educated and of good blood, and whose legitimate ancestors cannot be traced back in all directions for at least four generations.”

“Madam, I beg you to not imagine that I have not considered the matter. But this is how my family has always raised our children. No mischief will be done. I have a fond relationship with my own nurse from childhood. Georgiana as well, and—”

“See! See!” Lady Catherine then looked at her other guests, and said, “I shall not speak of our family’s shame before my friends, but you have proven the matter.”

Darcy said stiffly, but with a clear voice, “I do thank you for your kindly meant advice, but I shall follow my own wisdom in this matter.”

“And ignore the preponderance of wisdom from all authorities upon the subject? If one must use a wet nurse, it is best to separate the child from the nurse before the child is so old that they shall develop a permanent affection.”

“That is not the advice of every authority,” Darcy replied. “Rousseau, in one of those rare cases in which I agreed with his advice, said that by detaching the child from their nurse you are chiefly teaching them ingratitude.”

“Rousseau’s advice,” Lady Catherine replied immediately, “was for the mother to nurse her child herself. My daughter ought to have lived to do such. If only you had encouraged her to walk more frequently whilst she was in her delicate condition, all would have been well.”

Darcy did not reply to that, which Elizabeth thought showed remarkable forbearance.

Lady Catherine said, “There is no limit to the harm that the practice of giving out children to foster has done to our noble stock here in England. It is a principal cause of the decayed nature of our present day, in which women flit about, talking, attending opera and theatre, and dancing and listening to dissolute music at all hours of the night, with no concern in their minds for their most important duty. Mrs. Collins, promise me once more that you shall never allow your child to be given to a wet nurse, provided you survive the ordeal whose veil you shall soon pass through.”

Cheery thought.

Elizabeth felt more than a little resentment towards Lady Catherine. There was no point in reminding Jane that childbirth was dangerous. Every woman in the country knew that.

When Jane agreed that she intended to nurse the child herself, Lady Catherine added, “And you must follow the dictates of nature in all things. Do not allow the child to be tightly wrapped, no matter how much the midwife might insist. Do everything yourself, and never trust a hired servant.”

“I promise to act with judgement,” Jane replied.

“Further, do not allow the child to gain fixed habits, for then they will be weaker and more inflexible as an adult. The only habit the young ought to have is the habit of having no habit. Wake your son at irregular hours, take away any object to which he has become excessively fond. Do not allow him to become attached to persons who are not worthy of his concern. Always change everything.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam had an aghast expression. “I know excellent soldiers who are creatures of habit. I may even be one of them.”

“She is repeating a piece of Rousseau’s advice. But however popular he was amongst your set when you were young,” Darcy said to his aunt, “he did not raise his own children, but rather abandoned them. He loudly claimed in the introduction to his great book that he was qualified to be neither a tutor nor a father — I am not inclined to disagree with him upon the point — and he thought he could put his theories to a robust practical test by creating a wholly imaginary child to suffer through them.”

Elizabeth smiled at Darcy. “You are no enthusiast of Rousseau.”

“There is much in his attitude which offends me. I had believed it a work of genius when I read Emile as a student, but when I reread it after Emily’s birth, I found much to dislike.”

When they went to dinner Elizabeth was seated next to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who proved to be an excellent conversationalist, keeping her smiling and laughing. She did get a sense however that his questions were oriented towards understanding her character in greater detail.

The whole time Darcy’s eyes were upon her, and he barely spoke to Mary, who he sat next to. He occasionally replied to Lady Catherine. Darcy had a dissatisfied air as he watched her.

At one point Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “Mr. Darcy has determined to never marry again. He thinks there is no need for Emily to have a mother, as there is nothing that a man can do that a woman cannot.”

The easy manner with which Elizabeth heard Colonel Fitzwilliam say this proved that she had spent the months of recovery from her heartbreak well. “I heard him say as much myself, many times.” Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Darcy. She was light and fey; she cared for nothing. He would see that she cared for nothing and cease to look at her in such a way. “I expect him to do nothing else.”

Mr. Collins said, “Hear, hear. Mr. Darcy ought to make his entire future life a shrine to the memory of his wife.”

Lady Catherine said, “No person, it would be impossible, a sacrilege, if anyone made the effort to follow my daughter, Anne. Any woman, no matter who they were, would prove themselves inferior in every way, and thus impart to Darcy an additional memory of his grief, rather than give him any comfort.”

“What of Princess Charlotte? Would she also be inferior in every way?” Elizabeth spoke without quite thinking. Likely it was the rush of having been able to say to Darcy that she expected nothing from him without having the slightest tendency towards tears.

If she had been in only her ordinary high spirits, she would not have spoken so jokingly of the Prince Regent’s fifteen-year-old daughter.

Not only Lady Catherine stared at her, but both Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr. Collins rubbed his chin thoughtfully, as though seriously considering the question.

“ My birth is not so high as to aspire to her hand,” Darcy said with a dry smirk. “And I believe you have taken my aunt’s words as having a different meaning than the one she meant to convey. I believe we once agreed that you have a tendency to wilfully misunderstand everyone, if it might be the basis for a joke.”

Elizabeth flushed, but she also laughed.

Darcy grinned at her again, taking away her sense of embarrassment. She grinned widely back at him, and he looked away from her, with a bit of colour in his own face.

Be angry with him, dear Lizzy. You are not supposed to let him make you laugh .

“But madam,” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked his aunt, speaking across the table to her. “What is your view of Darcy’s notion that he can do anything that a woman can, and that a woman has no sphere of superiority in which to shine.”

“I am certain,” Lady Catherine replied, “that you do not truly portray Mr. Darcy’s views.”

Elizabeth laughed, and patted Colonel Fitzwilliam on the hand. “As you just observed, I too have on occasion been accused of being in jest.”

She was certain that Darcy watched her as she made such a flirtatious gesture towards his cousin, and she thought that the gesture had likely been prompted by the awareness that Darcy watched her.

Settle yourself. You are the wholly sensible woman who has wholly recovered from the heartbreak which Mr. Darcy delivered last Autumn .

Darcy stared at her.

“Mr. Darcy, explain your views, so we can know whether to tease you upon the matter. When we spoke last upon the subject, I believe you defended the claim that women were inferior to men in all respects, and beyond that, low creatures always scheming for the favour of gentlemen.”

Darcy laughed. “You know that is not a wholly accurate depiction of my views.”

Elizabeth examined the statement, attempting to find something in it to offend her. She replied at last, “Men never care so much for their children as women.”

Rather than replying, Darcy looked at her quietly. He did not seem offended, but rather thoughtful.

“With the obvious exception of Darcy,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “You must admit that. It is the woman in him.”

“He is an odd fellow,” Elizabeth replied. “He makes such odd decisions, ones that hardly work towards his happiness. But I see nothing womanly in Mr. Darcy. You must confess that I am a greater expert on being womanly than you.”

“But you must confess that I am a greater admirer of the female form and character.” Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned. “It, along with the battlefield, has been my chief study.”

“Oh, my!” Elizabeth fluttered and gasped, she theatrically mimed fainting to the side. “You say such shocking things!”

“Miss Bennet,” Darcy said to her, “I confess that I do not hold my own happiness as worth nearly as much as my honour, or my sense of right.”

“Oh, that would be nothing if you did not insist on remaining in society,” Elizabeth replied.

“Would you have me withdraw from society simply because of my resolutions? I always have attempted to act as an honourable gentleman.”

“What has that to do with anything?” Elizabeth replied.

“Is not honour, and keeping to one’s resolutions, is that not always of importance?” Darcy replied.

“What about the care and concern for others? Avoidance of causing harm — but I know, I know you will say you have never caused harm to anyone intentionally.”

“Yet I have made mistakes. And I regret them.”

“And I disagree with you. Men cannot be equal to women in the care of a child. They are careless, they do not have an awareness of the emotions of others. They lack… the ability to understand what it is like to be small, to be weak, to be helpless and in need of constant aid. A woman… we are weak, we are often helpless. We understand better — that is why a man can never be a mother.”

“You mean to say that Emily needs a mother, and that I should remarry?” Darcy looked at Elizabeth pointedly. “I wish… that is to say, perhaps you are right.”

“No! You misread what I say entirely. I—” Elizabeth waved her hand about. She saw how most of the table watched their discussion. She hoped it was quite opaque. As she only half understood it herself, she had a good hope that no one else could understand more than a third. “He is a fine gentleman, is he not? Wholly sure of himself.”

“I am not sure of myself,” Darcy replied.

“You ought to be, you are a Fitzwilliam,” Lady Catherine said.

“ You are not sure of yourself?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked. “Miracles have happened.”

“To return to the earlier subject, and I am certain that Lady Catherine will agree with me,” Elizabeth said nodding towards that lady, “I am confident that there is no point of mental abilities in which men have a true superiority, and many in which they are wholly inferior.”

Lady Catherine’s expression was rather odd, as though she had never thought on the point, but now that she was confronted with the question, she was delighted by the possibility that Elizabeth was correct.

“Cousin Elizabeth, that is fallacious,” Mr. Collins exclaimed, his colour high. “And you must cease to bother her ladyship with such notions. Heaven has ordained that the man be the superior of the woman.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Catherine said. “And I’ll have you say nothing of that sort in one of your sermons.”

“No, no, of course I will not!” Mr. Collins replied. “Not if you think it better if I do not.”

“And I observe,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “that the woman can be at least the equal of man in matters of command.”

Lady Catherine glared at her nephew. “I learned the habit of command from the same source as you, the long tradition of Fitzwilliam blood and service.”

“Madam, I do not make sport of you, I am wholly serious,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied, grinning in a way that suggested that he was not at all serious.

Elizabeth determined that she did like Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Darcy looked at her with an odd expression, there was something in his eyes that made Elizabeth’s stomach feel hollow, and she felt a sudden tilt in her world. Something had changed in him.

“Darcy, now,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “you must take the opposite position. You will defend the claim that women are inferior to men in all mental points, or at their best their equals in a few.”

“Must I? — A man can feel. Miss Bennet,” Darcy said, “a man can know what it is like to be helpless, to be forced by society to do that which he does not want, to have a fate he cannot defeat.”

“Can a man have that which he loves most ripped from him, without him able to do anything? — It can happen to a man… would you say that it has happened to you?”

Darcy did not reply. But his eyes… it was impossible for Elizabeth to be angry, properly angry, with him when he looked at her with those eyes.

She turned away. She looked at Colonel Fitzwilliam. “And what is the place of women in this case? What is she to do when in your theory males are the superior in all matters?”

“She is to fulfil the role that is already ordained for her by society and the Almighty,” Mr. Collins offered.

“But Colonel Fitzwilliam, what is your view?”

“I had asked Mr. Darcy to serve as the chief barrister for complete female inferiority, I do not offer to undertake the task. And Darcy, you must.”

Looking between Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam, Darcy shrugged. “Supposing the premises to be true — which I do not — I would follow the notion proposed by Ricardo of comparative advantage. Even if the woman is inferior in every single point, so long as there are places where the severity of her inferiority is less, or where a high quality of execution is of less importance, she might do those tasks.”

“I had not taken you to be a man who thought child rearing to be of no importance,” Elizabeth immediately replied.

“It is a case where her degree of inferiority is less,” Darcy replied, with a manner that put her to mind of her father when he argued a point for the joy of the debate, rather than out of any conviction, “not where the importance of the task is less. Those areas where her muscular inferiority makes the largest difference, such as working in the fields or digging ditches, should be the focus of a man.”

“Ah, and in a like manner women should become predominant in those fields where the man’s greater similarity to a beast of burden is of no benefit. Cases such as the production of scholarly tomes, arguing at law, and of course in parliament,” Elizabeth agreed. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, how important is muscular power upon the battlefield?”

“As much as I would wish to agree with you on this matter,” the officer replied, “if only to stymie my cousin, quickly loading a musket, digging fieldworks, and marching fifteen miles in a day while carrying rations and an ample supply of gunpowder are all matters of physical strength. I would trust many women to stand up under fire. I think fewer could keep up a rate of four volleys a minute.”

“Then,” Elizabeth said grandly, “I shall reserve the right of being shot at to the gentlemen, while only keeping for my own sex the matters of leadership. I do not believe a general needs to be any great physical specimen?”

Colonel Fitzwilliam replied laughingly, “Not at all. No, that is no requirement.”

Darcy grinned at her, though Elizabeth thought that Lady Catherine was less pleased.

Mr. Collins exclaimed, “Cousin Elizabeth, do not let your high spirits run away with you! You speak nonsense.”

“It is Mr. Darcy who speaks nonsense,” Elizabeth replied. “He is the one who claims that men are superior to women in all respects.”

“I do hope you have not forgotten that I was ordered by my cousin to serve as the advocate for that view.”

“As I said, Darcy sincerely believes, without any doubt, that there is no possibility of a woman being superior in any respect, except that of her ability to put a child to suck. Fie, fie, fie! Surely not! The Almighty would not have arranged it so. No, I demand that we are either different in essentials, or that the difference is a matter of convention.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughingly said, “With such opinions as you attribute to him, the question is whether Darcy might convince any woman to marry him, not whether we might convince him to marry again.”

“It has been my observation that many women prefer men who loudly profess their superiority,” Darcy replied.

“Fie, fie!” Elizabeth laughed. “And you cannot claim that is not your true opinion. You are severe on my sex.”

Darcy had an air of being pleased by the conversation. “I am willing to be castigated for my errors, but I wish the criticism to be for a view I adhere to.”

“Do you think,” Elizabeth asked, “that the differences are wholly a matter of convention? That any woman could — in mind if not in body — be the equal of a man on the battlefield, just as you claim yourself the equal of any woman in the nursery? — have you changed the clouts and swaddling clothes, or only provided the cuddles and embraces which are ordinarily a mother’s place to bestow?”

“I had believed that amongst the class of people to which both of us belong, it is ordinarily the place of a servant to change the diaper,” Darcy replied, with a frown. From his expression Elizabeth thought she’d just delivered the poor man a new matter to feel guilt about.

“Poor Nell! — I have many times cleaned and changed the cloths. Including twice in the case of your own daughter.”

Darcy flushed.

“She has you, coz.” Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled. “She has you straight.”

“I shall rectify the matter,” Darcy said stoutly, “and ask Nell to teach me the trick to changing the clouts.”

“I shall admire you exceedingly for having done so,” Elizabeth replied, “if you make true on that promise, even though it undermines my point.”

“That many differences are a matter of convention not nature? No one doubts that,” Darcy replied.

“The different spheres of the male and the female amongst humans were ordained by the Almighty,” Mr. Collins said, “and any who seeks to undermine the natural ways of the man and woman commits a crime against all society.”

“It is evident to anyone of sense,” Darcy replied in a tone that made Elizabeth suspect he excluded Mr. Collins from that group, “that often the Almighty operates to make the sexes different through the education we separately give to men and women.”

“And you wished to educate that girl as a man?” Lady Catherine asked sceptically. “That would explain all matters. But not even you are such a fool.”

“Georgiana was chiefly educated by my father. And following his death in accordance to the recommendations he had made to us about her schooling,” Darcy replied. “There is ample blame that falls upon me for the… unpleasantness of the previous winter. But not in the matter of deciding where she would be schooled, and upon which model. And I do not think that her education, except in so far as it left her quite na?ve, had anything to do with the matter.”

Lady Catherine looked unsatisfied by this reply.

Darcy said to Elizabeth, “Some differences between us are clearly a matter of nature. And I think the primary reason that society encourages men and women to be yet more different is due to a rational reaction to the differences that already exist in nature.”

“No, no,” Elizabeth replied. “I wished for you to say something that I could decry as the rankest foolishness.”

“Ah, I apologize,” Darcy replied with a grin, “for disappointing you.”

“And I command you all to cease the nonsense of this conversation,” Lady Catherine said. “It smacks of radicalism and the sorts of notions that were popular in the last years of the previous century. You will all cease to speak of such things.”

When the women withdrew after dinner to the drawing room, Elizabeth had a chance to think about the conversation.

That had not gone well.

She had enjoyed herself far too much.

She also had not made clear, in any way, that she was particularly frustrated with him. In fact, there were things she had said which might suggest that she pined for him, though only if he wished to interpret them in such a way.

The solution for what she must do for the rest of the night was obvious, and she would act upon it, no matter unpleasant: Conversation with anyone but Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins was now forbidden.

As soon as they re-entered the room, both of the gentlemen gravitated immediately towards Elizabeth. Darcy had retrieved Emily from the nursery and the girl was happily perched in her father’s arms. Though as soon as she was let down, Emily immediately ran to a massive doll house which had been assembled in the middle of the drawing room while they were at dinner.

She was quite too much the adorable pet.

Unfortunately paying attention to Emily distracted her from her resolution to only speak with Lady Catherine or her cousin. This gave Colonel Fitzwilliam the opportunity to pounce. “You and your sister did claim you could provide music for us. The time has come to prove it.”

“Oh, no,” Elizabeth replied. “I do not wish to put myself forward.”

“You might as well play,” Lady Catherine said. “Your fingering at the piano is tolerable enough.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “Her voice will be as beautiful as a bird’s.”

“But is the bird,” Elizabeth replied, “a nightingale or a dying goose?”

Darcy said, quietly, “I have seldom enjoyed anything so much as when I heard Miss Bennet perform.”

Oh, Lord!

There was that thing in Darcy’s eyes again. He was doing it to her again.

And she would not have it.

With a stiff curtsey and a flushed face, Elizabeth opened the piano and put her fingers to the instrument. She kept her eyes towards where Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins stood together. So, she felt rather than saw Darcy’s admiring eyes.

But her spirits were too high, she was too affected, and she lost herself in the song. After a minute she knew that she was singing for Darcy.

She had no expectations, but it was too hard to keep control of her heart when she liked him so very much. It would be easy if only he did not like her also.

That odious, honourable, man!

Fortunately, Mr. Darcy did not press Elizabeth so hard after her song was done, and she chiefly spent the remainder of the evening in an amusing (for her) conversation with Lady Catherine upon a variety of controversial matters about which Lady Catherine had not the slightest doubt.

Elizabeth also took her opportunity to bounce a ball about with Emily, who she encouraged to call her Miss Lizzy. Unfortunately, it seemed that the chance for such informality was already past, and that she would remain Be-ne.