My Virtual Darcy 🏆 2021 Wattys Shortlister

6 - Beautiful

Half a chicken nugget was impaled on Marla's fork, which she waved carelessly towards the ceiling of the food court we were having lunch in, before our English Literature lecture.

"Sho, wher' ar' you now?" she inquired, the other half poking out from between her lips.

Matthew hunched over the table and flicked her shoulder, disapproval darkening his features. "No talking when your mouth is full."

"If it wer' full, I wouldn't be abl' to talk," she sputtered towards her twin brother, spraying his cheek with parmesan sauce.

Idris glanced at me, and we pushed our chairs back at once, preparing for the inevitable food war. Ever since the four of us met, two years ago, these sibling fights were a regular occurrence. I stopped paying attention somewhere after the Great Onion Ring Battle.

Letting out a sigh, I popped a pill to get rid of the migraine that was hammering against my skull all morning.

"I finished Chapter Six," I stated, before downing a glass of water with the paracetamol. "I've yet to agree with Charlotte's vision of marriage."

Matt's arm dramatically extended to the table condiment holder. His eyes remained glued on Marla while he opened his hot dog bun, and flooded the sausage with ketchup.

"Her advice bothered me. The whole husband-hunting, reeling-in-the-fish, and securing-the-prey's-affection gimmick."

"She is neither young, pretty, nor rich. I admire her pragmatism." Idris shrugged, as Matthew chomped on his dripping sandwich.

"She's twenty-seven. And though the Regency tight locks don't flatter her face, she is far from being plain," I countered, defending my virtual BFF.

"Charlotte ij je one ending wij je clergyman, right?" Matthew asked, spitting ketchup-covered pickles on Marla's fries.

Oh, if looks could kill.

"Yeah. Most readers are shocked by her opinions and final choice. They should compare her predicament to basketball," Idris offered, earning a raised brow from me. "What if you loved basketball, but were neither very tall nor very quick? You couldn't aim for the NBA, but you could enter a smaller team."

Frowning at his arguments, I unfolded a napkin, and held it by two corners. "But this is marriage we are talking about."

He followed my lead, and hid behind his own paper shield. "Marriage during the Regency," he corrected. "Charlotte is described as educated. For many years, her sensibleness has pondered over the matter of economic security. She has to marry someone, or she will become a burden to the male members of her family, which is a social disgrace."

"Why can't she stay single and become a governess, like Jane Eyre?" I pouted, eyeing the projectiles flying from one side of the table to another.

"Governesses are caught between upstairs and downstairs: too well-bred to mingle with the servants, but in need of a salary, thus below the masters of the house. In other words, condemned to a life of loneliness. She would have to work until old, for a meagre wage. The other possible position would be lady's companion, but it often was a degrading and humiliating situation." Idris grimaced at the idea.

"Urgh. This is infuriating. Why does an intelligent and thoughtful gal like her have to settle for such an awful match?"

"Because she is intelligent and thoughtful, she knows this is her best shot. She cannot attract a wealthy husband, and marrying down is out of the question--it would disgrace her sisters."

Whispers and protestations rose from the tables near us. Behind me, a man in his forties, sharply wrapped in a three-piece suit, squinted his eyes at the flying food, and muttered under his breath, "Brats. Watch out for my Vuitton."