Chapter 16
A Curious Revelation
Saturday morning, after a hearty breakfast, it was finally time to say goodbye to Mr. Collins. Perhaps only two persons were at all affected by his leaving, Mary and Mrs. Bennet, but the rest of the family bore it with excellent spirits.
However, Elizabeth’s heart actually warmed toward the parson for the manner in which he took his leave of his intended. Though expressed with his usual flourish, he declared that he would miss her very much and promised to return at the earliest opportunity.
By the time the coach left with him, they were all chilled. The sun, as though tired of the proceedings, withdrew at last behind the clouds. It looked like rain.
As they started to walk toward the house, Elizabeth joined her father. She knew he would say something dry but true – something that would make her laugh.
Mr. Bennet glanced at her. “Well, Lizzy,” he said, “I discovered a circumstance yesterday which may amuse you.”
Elizabeth looked at him expectantly.
“Mr. Darcy did me the honour yesterday of asking permission to pay his addresses to one of my daughters.”
Elizabeth looked at her father without understanding. She stopped short, and with her, her father. Her mind could make no sense of what she had just heard. He must know that Jane was already engaged elsewhere, that Mary was promised, and Kitty and Lydia? Impossible.
“Indeed? You must be joking, Papa. It is quite impossible.” She laughed. “And which sister is to be the object of such solemn attentions?”
Mr. Bennet looked at her with perfect calm.
“You, my dear.”
Elizabeth forgot to laugh.
For a moment, she could not move. The gravel path before her seemed suddenly very interesting.
“You cannot mean it, Papa,” she said at last, though her voice had lost its usual lightness. “Mr. Darcy?”
“The very same.”
Elizabeth walked a few steps in silence.
The words ought to have amused her. Only some days before she would have found the idea impossible, perhaps even ridiculous. Yet now the thought did not provoke laughter. Instead, it produced a strange and unfamiliar sensation – something very near to shyness.
She felt suddenly conscious of herself in a way she had never been before.
He was a man of the world – educated, clever, and, she could not deny it, handsome. He moved in a very different circle. And this same man, who had once declared her not handsome enough to tempt him, had now asked her father’s permission to court her.
At first, she had been offended by that remark and determined to prove him wrong.
She had enjoyed putting him in his place.
Yet afterwards, he had proved her wrong more than once.
When she began to discover qualities in him that any woman might admire, she had resolutely checked such thoughts.
A man of his rank could never seriously think of her.
And yet…
How could it be?
Her heart beat faster, and she felt the warmth rising to her cheeks.
He had chosen her – not merely to admire, but to pursue.
The recollection of the previous day returned suddenly to her mind. The gravity of his manner. The attention with which he had listened to her. The question he had asked so unexpectedly.
What do you dream about, Miss Elizabeth?
Elizabeth stopped for a moment in the path.
Had he looked at her then with admiration? With feeling?
“My dear Lizzy,” said Mr. Bennet mildly, “you appear to be conducting a very serious meditation upon the gravel.”
Elizabeth started slightly and resumed walking. “I beg your pardon, Papa. I was only thinking.”
“So I perceived.” He regarded her for a moment with quiet amusement. “I hope you appreciate my discretion in this matter.”
Elizabeth glanced at him. “Your discretion?”
“Yes. I might very easily have announced Mr. Darcy’s request at the breakfast table this morning.”
Elizabeth stopped again. “Papa!”
Mr. Bennet continued calmly. “I believe Lydia would have found it highly entertaining, and your mother would certainly have had many observations to make.”
Elizabeth covered her face for a moment with one hand. “I am very grateful that you did not.”
“I thought you might be.” He paused, then added with a faint smile, “Though I confess the temptation was considerable.”
Elizabeth could not help laughing at last, though her cheeks were still decidedly warm. “Mama will soon discover it,” she said. “If he truly means to come again.”
“Oh, she will discover it whether he comes or not,” said Mr. Bennet calmly. “Your mother possesses a remarkable talent for uncovering information that has not yet been revealed.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly, then grew thoughtful again.
“Have you decided how you feel about this development?” he asked.
“I believe I am still in shock,” she admitted, looking down for a moment. “Yet I cannot dismiss his interest. He is… it is an honour, is it not?”
Mr. Bennet regarded her with unusual seriousness. “Mr. Darcy is certainly a man whom few fathers would think proper to refuse.”
Elizabeth glanced at him quickly. “You did not hesitate.”
“No,” he said quietly. “I did not.”
They walked a few steps in silence.
“You must not imagine that I gave my consent lightly,” he continued. “But a man of his character, his fortune, and – if I judge him rightly – his determination… such a man does not ask merely out of passing curiosity.”
Elizabeth felt her heart beat a little faster.
Mr. Bennet’s voice softened. “I know, Lizzy, that I have not always been the most attentive father. Your portion is small, and I have done little to improve it.”
“Papa…”
“No,” he said gently. “Allow me the reflection.” For a moment, he looked ahead rather than at her. “He does not seem to care about such matters. And if he is sincere… he may offer you a life very different from this one.”
Elizabeth said nothing.
“You deserve that,” he added quietly.
By the time they entered the parlour again, the house had resumed its usual animation.
Mrs. Bennet was already giving directions to Hill about luncheon, Lydia and Kitty were disputing whether the weather would spoil their walk to Meryton, and Jane was attempting – with her usual gentle patience – to restore order to both conversation and tea.
Elizabeth took her seat among them, but she heard very little of what was said.
The room seemed unusually lively that morning. Voices rose and fell around her, chairs moved, cups were set down with small decisive sounds, and yet she felt oddly separate from it all, as though she were observing the scene from a distance.
Mr. Darcy.
The thought returned again and again, each time bringing with it the same quiet flutter of astonishment.
He had asked her father’s permission.
Her.
Lydia was laughing loudly at something Kitty had said.
Mrs. Bennet declared that the weather was most unreasonable for the middle of the season.
Jane asked Elizabeth a question which she answered without quite knowing what she had said.
Then, almost unconsciously, Elizabeth glanced down at herself.
Her dress was the same simple morning gown she wore within the house. The ribbon at her waist had loosened slightly, and a stray curl had escaped from her hair.
She became suddenly aware of it all. If he comes today… Elizabeth rose quietly. “I shall be back in a moment,” she said.
No one paid her much attention. Lydia was already speaking again, and Mrs. Bennet was explaining to Hill why the good china must certainly be brought out when Mr. Bingley returns.
Elizabeth slipped from the room and went upstairs. In the privacy of her chamber, she paused for a moment, as though surprised by her own actions.
Then she moved quickly.
The gown was changed for one a little neater, a little more becoming. She adjusted the ribbon with more care, and before the mirror she gathered her hair again, smoothing the loose curls with fingers that were not quite steady.
Elizabeth Bennet had never thought herself a vain woman. Yet when she finished and looked once more at her reflection, she could not deny that she hoped to look well.
For a moment, she stood quite still. Then she laughed softly at herself.
***
When Elizabeth returned downstairs, the parlour was as lively as she had left it.
Mrs. Bennet was describing, with increasing energy, the many inconveniences of uncertain weather. Lydia and Kitty had resumed their debate about whether the militia officers would venture out despite the threat of rain, and Jane was listening to them both with patient amusement.
Elizabeth paused for a moment at the door before entering, as though hoping to slip quietly back into the room.
But Jane looked up almost immediately. Her eyes rested on Elizabeth for a moment, and a small smile appeared. “Lizzy,” she said gently, “you were not long.”
Elizabeth crossed the room with what she hoped was perfect composure. “No. I had only to fetch something.”
Jane did not inquire further, though her glance lingered just a moment longer than usual.
Lydia, however, was less discreet. “Well!” she exclaimed suddenly. “Lizzy, you have changed your dress.”
Elizabeth stopped.
“It was inconvenient for the morning,” she said calmly.
Lydia laughed. “How very particular you have become all at once!”
Kitty turned to look at her as well. “I think it looks very well.”
Mrs. Bennet glanced up briefly. “Yes, yes, very pretty. Lizzy always looks well in blue. Now Jane, my dear, why do you not put a menu together for when Mr. Bingley returns? We have to be ready.”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow warm again.
At the far end of the room, Mr. Bennet observed all this with quiet interest. He said nothing.
But when Elizabeth happened to glance in his direction, she found him watching her over the edge of his book with an expression that suggested he understood the entire matter perfectly.
Elizabeth looked away at once.
The conversation in the parlour had scarcely resumed when the distant sound of hooves upon the gravel reached the window.