Chapter 15 #2
Darcy found himself watching this small struggle with growing interest.
It occurred to him that Elizabeth Bennet was not a woman who could be won by display. She must be understood, properly.
At that moment, she turned a page of the music and glanced briefly in his direction.
Their eyes met.
Elizabeth raised one eyebrow with a look that seemed to say she was perfectly aware that she was being observed.
Darcy, caught, inclined his head with the smallest smile.
Elizabeth returned her attention to the music.
Darcy leaned back slightly in his chair. Very well, he thought. If he wished to win Miss Elizabeth Bennet, he must begin by learning how to court her properly. And that, he suspected, might prove far more difficult – and far more interesting – than anything he had attempted before.
Elizabeth continued to play, the notes filling the room with cheerful animation.
Darcy listened for a time, though his thoughts had begun to wander again.
If he truly wished to gain Miss Elizabeth’s good opinion, he must proceed with greater care than he had shown before. Mere civility would not suffice. Nor would the empty attentions which so many gentlemen seemed to believe constituted courtship.
Miss Elizabeth valued sincerity.
She valued character.
And she valued family.
His thoughts turned then to Georgiana.
She had already shown a readiness to defend his sister with Wickham. Elizabeth Bennet, he thought, would like Georgiana very much. Indeed, he suspected she would like her exceedingly.
The idea settled comfortably in his mind. If Miss Elizabeth were to see him in the society of his sister, to observe their natural affection for one another, she might form a different opinion of him. And Georgiana, he reflected, possessed a softness of manner which very few people could resist.
At that moment, Mrs. Bennet’s voice broke across the room.
“Lizzy, my dear! That piece is vastly serious for the morning. Pray, play something a little more cheerful. Mr. Darcy cannot possibly wish to be melancholy before luncheon.”
Elizabeth did not stop playing, though a smile appeared briefly on her lips.
“I shall try to oblige you, Mama.”
Mrs. Bennet turned eagerly toward Darcy. “My daughter is very fond of music, Mr. Darcy. She practises whenever she can. I always say there is nothing so agreeable as a little music in the house.”
Darcy inclined his head politely. “I quite agree, madam.”
Elizabeth turned a page of the music. Before she began again, she glanced toward Darcy. “You must forgive my mother, sir,” she said lightly. “I am fond of music, but practising is another matter. I think you said that your sister plays very well.”
Darcy allowed himself a faint smile. “Miss Bingley mentioned it, I believe. But yes, Georgiana plays very well. It is one of her accomplishments.” He paused a moment before adding more quietly, “I miss her.”
Elizabeth looked at him with sudden warmth. She paused playing. “Then why do you not ask her to join you here?” she said. “I promise you we would take very good care of her.”
Darcy felt an unexpected stir of guilt. Bringing Georgiana to Hertfordshire would not merely be a social visit. Wickham was here. Darcy’s expression grew thoughtful. “I should like it very much,” he said at last. “But I must consider whether Hertfordshire is the best place for her at present.”
Elizabeth did not question him further. She sensed at once that the hesitation had some deeper cause, so she stopped the unwelcome thought from forming that their society was judged wanting.
Instead, she turned back to the instrument.
“Then until she comes,” she said lightly, “you must endure my very inferior performance.”
Darcy looked at her again. “I assure you, Miss Elizabeth, that I endure it with the greatest pleasure.”
Elizabeth raised one eyebrow slightly, as though uncertain whether to accept this as sincerity or politeness.
Then she began to play again.
Darcy listened.
But now, he found his attention far more fixed upon the lady at the instrument than upon the music itself.
It was not merely admiration that occupied him now.
It occurred to him then, with a clarity that left little room for doubt, that Miss Elizabeth Bennet would suit not only his inclinations, but his life.
She possessed a steadiness of judgement which, though still forming, had already proved itself in moments of consequence.
And as for Pemberley… he could not but think that her lively understanding, joined with a natural discernment of character, would in time render her equal to every expectation its mistress must fulfil.
She was young – but she learned quickly, and with eagerness. Her wit, too, was of a kind not easily overlooked; he almost smiled to imagine how it might be received among those who had long believed themselves unassailable in their refinement.
***
When Mr. Bennet returned, Mrs. Bennet immediately informed him – with considerable emphasis – that Mr. Darcy had most obligingly remained in order to speak with him.
Darcy rose at once.
“Mr. Bennet, if you would allow me a few minutes of private conversation.”
Mr. Bennet, though surprised, readily agreed, and led him into the library.
Darcy began calmly. He explained that he wished to mention a matter concerning Mr. Wickham – not to alarm him, but because it was better that certain circumstances should be understood.
He first spoke briefly of the events of the ball.
Mr. Wickham, he said, had approached him privately in the library and attempted to renew an old claim upon him, suggesting that, unless he received a certain sum of money, he might be inclined to circulate unpleasant stories concerning Darcy’s sister.
“At this point, Miss Elizabeth had happened to pass the library door. Hearing Wickham’s raised voice, she had entered the room. Darcy explained that she quickly understood enough of the conversation to perceive Wickham’s intentions.”
“Miss Elizabeth behaved with remarkable composure,” he said. “She made it very clear to Mr. Wickham that any attempt to injure the reputation of my family would not go unanswered.”
Mr. Bennet listened with growing attention.
Darcy continued, choosing his words carefully. “She told him, quite plainly, that if he so much as repeated a word of slander, she would see him made unwelcome in the neighbourhood.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyebrows rose. “I do not know if I should be proud of my daughter or chastise her for interfering with something personal between two gentlemen.”
Darcy allowed himself the faintest hint of a smile. “Mr. Wickham was… not pleased.”
He went on to describe the meeting in Meryton the following morning – Wickham’s altered manner, the brief loss of his usual civility, and the warning he had addressed to Elizabeth in a lowered voice.
Darcy did not dramatise the moment, but he did not conceal his concern.
“I believe Miss Elizabeth’s firmness at the ball may have wounded his pride,” he said.
“What occurred in the street suggests that he has not entirely forgotten it.” Darcy looked at the bookshelf.
“Wickham is not a man who accepts humiliation easily. And Miss Elizabeth Bennet had humiliated him twice in as many days.”
Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair and regarded Darcy thoughtfully.
“Well,” he said after a moment, “my daughter has never been afraid of speaking plainly when she believes herself in the right. I cannot say I regret that quality – though I begin to see that it may occasionally place her in uncomfortable situations.”
Darcy inclined his head. “I thought it best that you should be aware of the circumstances.”
Mr. Bennet was silent for a moment longer. “At the very least,” he said at last, “I shall take care that Mr. Wickham does not presume too much upon our hospitality again.”
Darcy rose. “I am glad if I have been of service.”
“Mr. Darcy, do you think she is in danger?”
Darcy sighed. “I hope not. But I have been on the end of his unforgiving nature in the most despicable way.”
“I see. Thank you, again. For telling me this.”
Darcy bowed and turned to leave, but after a step or two, he paused. He turned back. He looked down, but then straightened and looked at the older man. “Mr. Bennet.”
Mr. Bennet looked up again.
“There is one more matter on which I should wish to speak, if you will permit me.”
“By all means.”
Darcy stood very straight, though his tone remained composed. “I hope you will not think it presumptuous if I say that my concern in this matter arises not merely from the circumstances with Mr. Wickham.”
Mr. Bennet regarded him with quiet interest.
Darcy continued, choosing his words with some care. “During my visits to Hertfordshire, I have had the honour of becoming better acquainted with your daughter, Miss Elizabeth. Her judgement in the situation I have just described only confirms an opinion I had already begun to form.”
Mr. Bennet’s expression altered slightly.
“I should wish,” Darcy said, “with your permission, to continue that acquaintance.”
For a moment, Mr. Bennet said nothing.
He had expected many things that morning – his wife complaining about this or that, or his daughters wanting coin for a ribbon – but he had not expected Mr. Darcy of Pemberley to stand before him requesting leave to pay attention to Elizabeth.
At last, he said, with dry composure, “My Lizzy. She is special. I love all my daughters, but she is a delight.”
Darcy inclined his head.
Mr. Bennet studied him for another moment, then allowed himself the faintest smile. “If you mean to court my daughter, Mr. Darcy, I must warn you that she has very little portion.”
Darcy’s answer came quietly. “I am aware of that.”
“You are.” Mr. Bennet gave a short, amused breath. “Well, if you know what you are about, then I see no reason to forbid you the attempt.”
Darcy bowed. “Thank you, sir.” And with that, he left the library.
As he crossed the hall, he again heard the sound of the pianoforte in the adjoining room. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, it seemed, remained entirely unaware that she had just become the object of a very deliberate design.