Chapter 45 #2
Elizabeth hesitated, but Bennet continued. “As far as we can tell, Wickham did not take it by force. They both gave it willingly, but… well.”
“Since, as you said, Lydia could easily have found herself one of them, I cannot fault them too badly. In fact, I might have been in some danger at the beginning of our acquaintance. Not much, mind you, but he was handsome and charming.”
“Be that as it may, it is a difficult situation for a young woman. Mr Darcy has seen it before, with more men than Mr Wickham, and he did what he usually does.”
“Which is?”
“He says not to read too much virtue into his actions. He sees a duty and throws money at it. Both girls obtained reasonable husbands away from Meryton with a modest dowry, which Mr Darcy stood for. He said it was his duty for not taking the blackguard down years ago—though why it is his duty is beyond me.”
“That sentiment is admirable, though there are enough rotten apples in the general population that he will already have been replaced with someone else.”
“We will never know. At any rate, your Mr Darcy left the county about ￡2,000 poorer.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Perhaps he left the county ￡2,000 richer in character, or richer in pride—the proper kind.”
“Not to put too fine a point on it,” Bennet chuckled, “but might he have left the county ￡2,000 richer in affection?”
Elizabeth snapped her head up and glared. “That smacks of a mercenary attitude.”
“Perhaps, but are you certain you would be so offended if there were not a tiny grain of truth?”
Elizabeth sighed and nodded, admitting defeat.
After a time, she said, “I would not put a price on affection, Father, but I do not find anything wrong with his buying ￡2,000 worth of esteem. However, that is a pittance compared to the esteem he gained by coming here and doing right, regardless of his motives. He has nearly infinite money, but no more time than you or I. He spent it here, doing what is right. I cannot fault him.”
Bennet leaned forward, reached across his desk, laid his hands palms up, and held them still until Elizabeth took them and squeezed.
“Never value affection over esteem, Elizabeth. If you have esteem, affection tags along like a newborn calf. I believe he is a good man. He has my esteem, and if he has yours, whatever happens between you will be as it should be… whatever that is.”
Elizabeth smiled and sat in quiet contemplation for a time.
“What causes that thoughtfulness?”
“I am thinking of what you have been telling me. Mr Darcy’s conduct very much suits my feelings, but why am I to be the judge?”
“Why indeed, Elizabeth? Why indeed!”
She nodded, and Bennet left her to her contemplation for a moment. He considered relighting his pipe, but another idea intervened.
“We have not walked the park for some time, or even the gardens, for that matter.”
She readily agreed, and a few minutes found them bounding up the path towards Oakham Mount. Well, she was bounding along, and he was walking sedately, but why quibble?
After a time, he asked, “Might we return to your ECS?”
Elizabeth looked perplexed.
“You like to make up scales with three-letter names. You have done it since you learnt about graph theory. What was that one you used on Miss de Bourgh… QOL for Quality of Life?”
“How did you know about that?”
Bennet put his hand to his ear and smiled.
“Do not worry. I open that cupboard rarely, and I never heard anything you would be embarrassed by. I heard you in the corridor, so it was not so secret. Do not worry, no servant would risk Mrs Hill’s wrath by repeating it, and your mother or sisters would not even understand.
I only caught a minor reference in a conversation with that lady and surmised the rest.”
“Very well, so what is the ECS?”
“That is Elizabeth’s Coddling Scale: your measure of how much parents coddle their children.”
“Have we not beat that subject to death?”
“Nearly, but let us give it one more whack if you have no objection. I believe you are an aficionado of examining situations by reversing the characters, no?”
“As I told you, I changed my opinion about Mr Darcy by imagining Jane as a rich heiress and his friend as Mr DownOnHisLuck with no fortune at all.”
“I dare say Heiress Bennet’s good friend Charlotte Lucas dragged her from the Netherfield ball by force.”
Elizabeth laughed. That was exactly as it went.
“Let us try a different tack. Your Miss de Bourgh has taken on the onerous duty of bringing my wife into accord with Jane’s wishes for her wedding, no?”
Elizabeth decided to cease being offended that her father knew more than he should, and nodded.
“Let us assert that your young friend has been coddled all her life, while acknowledging that it is difficult to know how a very sick young lady should be raised, and that it would not be right to make judgements. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Now, let us assume that she has a trusted friend to pull her out of the doldrums. In one mighty burst of bravery, she somehow contrives a situation where she has someone to guide her through society, at well over 23 years of age.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“It will become clear in a moment. We will perform a Reverse Mama Bear.”
Elizabeth shook her head. The clear air of the park had driven off the brandy’s haze, but her father only grew more confusing.
“Let us pick another example. Suppose a parent is indolent about raising his children, and manages to get away with it because his eldest two decide the path to success lies in coddling their parents? You would have to agree that you and Jane have been in the 20-40 range on your scale, would you not? You allow your mother and me to carry on as before because you took up the slack and kept things from utterly falling apart.”
“Perhaps we did, perhaps not,” Elizabeth snapped. “We were children! We did our best, and I will not be criticised for it.”
Bennet remained unperturbed; by Elizabeth’s standards, the outburst was mild. “Do not make assumptions. That was not criticism. It was both praise and an attempt at objectivity. Can we at least agree on the basic facts?”
“I would have to think about it, but since you are obviously working your way up to something, I will provisionally accept your thesis.”
“You know what a Mama Bear does when her cub becomes too lazy and dependent?”
“Of course! She drives it off into the woods.”
“Exactly. Now, let us say that we have a situation where two parents, a new guest, two younger sisters, and Heaven knows who else—all depend on a single Mama Bear to work out all difficulties. Will they grow into their roles, or depend on her forever—or until she tires of the sport or marries?”
Elizabeth's assessment that the brandy had worn off now seemed optimistic, or her father had turned obtuse, for she could not follow him at all.
“What are you saying?”
He stopped and turned to face her.
“I am saying that Miss de Bourgh, your mother, your sisters, and I all need you to go away for a while. Lydia and Kitty are coming into their own, so you need not worry about them. Your friend Anne should not be saddled with managing my wife, yet she should not be coddled into society by depending on you for guidance. I think you should return to the Gardiners until Jane’s wedding, then go on the tour with them straightaway.
Let me ensure Jane’s wedding is appropriately elegant and simple, and I, along with Lydia, Kitty, and Mrs Jenkinson, will make sure that your Miss de Bourgh gets a chance to grow. She will lean on you if you are here.”
“So, you want me to drag Anne out of Rosings practically by force and just abandon her?”
“Exactly! I want you to drive both your dependant and your parents off into the woods.”
Elizabeth walked to a bench and sat to think.
Bennet let the silence stand.
Presently, he continued. “It would do you good to spend a few months away from your sisters, your parents, everyone who depends on you, either appropriately or overmuch. The Gardiners have no need of your services. They can take you into society, and you can enjoy some time with no worries about your family embarrassing you or needing you to take care of anybody for anything. I think it would be good for you as well as your cubs. Take the chance to be a young lady in society without fears, responsibilities, or expectations. Dance with young men without watching for your family to embarrass you. Flirt if you like, knowing that you need no suitors. Enjoy your life for a while.”
Elizabeth laughed, no longer wondering where she had acquired the propensity to use a metaphor once too often.
“Very well, that is sensible,” she said. “Shall you call for the carriage now?”
He laughed, no longer at odds with his most worthy daughter.
“Why not? Let us strike while the iron is hot. While I am at it, I suppose I could give my blessing to Jane’s gentleman and bring her home in a few days. Can you pack in an hour?”
Elizabeth jumped up and started back to the house, full of new energy, as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders.