Interpretation
“Before we begin,” Darcy said, “I am curious how you knew I speak Spanish. It is not a topic we discussed.”
Elizabeth laughed. “My father told me you spent an afternoon reading Don Quixote. He said you had trouble with the archaic language, but otherwise seemed more skilled in the language than me.”
“That explains it. I had forgotten the book from that afternoon, to tell the truth. Bennet and I enjoyed an intense discussion about a wide range of topics, and I retained that better.”
Elizabeth wondered what a wide range of topics consisted of, but suspected they centred on a specific subject.
“He also said something else interesting. When you finished, he said you asked to see the other copy.”
Darcy started looking nervous as he tried to bluff. “Which other copy is that?”
“The one in the cabinet, of course.”
Darcy started fidgeting, so Elizabeth continued. “Father asked whether I had told you about the cabinet, and I assured him I had not. I asked around, and it seems nobody told you.”
He stammered a moment. “Lucky guess!”
“Lucky, yes—guess, no. It was you, was it not?”
“We can discuss it later, if you like.”
“No need. I know all I need to know. On behalf of myself and my sisters, I thank you most wholeheartedly.”
Darcy snorted rather inelegantly. “Thank me? Are you mad? Your father has a Gutenberg.”
The Gardiners nodded in understanding while the Bingleys remained confused.
“Is it time for interpretation?” Elizabeth asked brightly.
Darcy grinned. “?Por supuesto!”
Elizabeth laughed gaily and began her translation.
“Let us begin. I opened with, ‘Buenas Tardes, Senor Darcy. Espero que nuestra visita inesperada no le cause ninguna molestia.’ That was standard courtesy: ‘Good afternoon, Mr Darcy. I hope you do not mind an unannounced visit.’”
“I believe I followed that much, just barely, Mr Gardiner said.”
“Mr Darcy courteously replied, ‘Por favor, considérese en su casa’—a typical Spanish welcome: ‘Please consider yourself at home.’”
“I was surprised to see you here, but very happy, I can assure you,” he said gently.
“At that point I supposed a little impertinence might not be amiss. ‘Le agradezco su gentil bienvenida; ?debo entender sus amables palabras en sentido figurado o al pie de la letra?’ I asked him if I should take it literally or figuratively.”
Mrs Gardiner stared at her niece. “A curious choice of response. Well beyond impertinence, I would say.”
“I can understand your concern, Mrs Gardiner,” Darcy replied, “but do the rules of propriety even apply when speaking in another language?”
Elizabeth smiled. “Perhaps I should write to Charlotte. She is my tutor on the subject, but I believe it never came up.”
“If you want to write to Miss Charlotte Lucas, you should be expeditious. I doubt she will retain that name much longer.”
“Oh, what might you expect it to become?”
“Mrs Oakley.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Good for her. Good for both of them.”
“You know Oakley?” Darcy asked in confusion.
“Yes, I met him at a ball. I am proud to say I introduced them.”
“Of course you did.”
Mr Gardiner said, “Might we come back to the literal-versus-figurative question? We seem to have gone astray.”
Elizabeth continued, “Mr Darcy answered, ‘Como usted prefiera, puesto que ambas interpretaciones son correctas’: ‘As you wish, because both interpretations are correct.’”
Nearly everyone in the group looked puzzled.
At long last, Mr Gardiner asked the obvious question. “All right, Elizabeth… perhaps you need to translate from English to English, for I do not quite follow.”
“Uncle, it is very simple. I asked if he meant literally or figuratively? and he said, in effect, both. Let us begin with the obvious. The figurative part was Mr Darcy inviting us to stay at Pemberley for as long and as often as we like.”
“That stretches what was said a great deal.”
“No, Mr Gardiner, it is not a stretch of any sort. Miss Bennet understands my character well enough that she perfectly comprehends what I think, better than I do myself. Be assured that you are welcome. My friends are always welcome in my home, though if I must quibble, I would forwardly request you bring your children next time. Pemberley has not had the sound of little running feet for entirely too long.”
Mr Gardiner had not quite regained his equilibrium, but Mrs Gardiner said, “We shall happily comply at our next opportunity. Should we bring Kitty and Lydia to look after them?”
Darcy laughed. “Aha, I can see where Miss Bennet gets her impertinence from. Bring both if you please. Perhaps Mr and Mrs Bennet as well.”
Gardiner choked down a laugh. “Let us not get carried away.”
Elizabeth smiled, quite enjoying the banter, while the Bingleys just stared about in a stupid manner.
Mrs Gardiner said, “That seems to take care of the figurative interpretation. How about the literal? I presume you were not offering my niece employment?”
Everyone else almost stopped breathing, staring at Elizabeth.
She smiled, looking to Darcy for permission. He smiled and nodded.
“That one is easily understood in broad outlines, but the specifics are a touch vague. Mr Darcy asked for either a formal courtship or my hand in marriage. It is difficult to tell when speaking metaphorically, ambiguously, and in another language.”
Everyone gasped except Darcy, who smiled at Elizabeth, and was most gratified to see her smile in return.
“Did I misinterpret your suggestion?”
“You did not.”
“Might you resolve the ambiguity, since I offered two potential interpretations?”
“Mr Gardiner, might you write down today’s date,” Darcy said. “It may be important later.”
“How so?” Gardiner asked, looking either out of sorts or thoroughly amused.
“Two things of note happened today: I believe I bested Miss Elizabeth Bennet in a logic contest, which I doubt will ever happen again, and she also complained of ambiguity, though I believe she thrives in it and finds clarity tedious.”
Elizabeth had almost forgotten the Bingleys—or actually, entirely forgotten them—until a screech pierced the air.
“This cannot be true! Mr Darcy, you must deny this post-haste! She is trying to entrap you!”
Caroline turned completely red, a colour that clashed horribly with her dress and her hair, which, come to think of it, clashed with each other even before the altercation.
Bingley said, “What say you, Darcy? I count 17.”
“I believe so, but Miss Bennet could tell you without counting.”
“There were 17, meaning ￡850 at your specified rate.”
Bingley turned to his sister resignedly. “There goes next season’s wardrobe. I suggest more silence, and it goes without saying that this is a private conversation, and should rumours escape this group, I will assume you are the culprit and cut you off entirely. Am I rightly understood?”
Caroline stared in abject horror, so Bingley continued, “Just nod your head.”
She reluctantly did so, and Bingley turned back. “I apologise for interrupting such an important conversation. I cannot say how sorry I am.”
“I wish you would not,” Darcy said. “The conversation is doing just fine. Your sister adds a certain spice.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I ordinarily prefer a plain dish to a ragout, but I agree in this case.”
Bingley laughed. “Miss Bennet, you and Darcy seem to know a great deal about each other that the rest of us are not privy to. Would it be impertinent to ask Darcy to explain the honour of his triumph?”
Everyone except Caroline laughed, though most of them had no idea what was happening.
“Should I explain, Miss Bennet?”
“Proceed.”
“I believe I have found your Achilles heel. This is another sequencing problem with mismatched prerequisites.”
“All right, it is a nice lure, and the cast was tolerable. I will bite. Careful how you set the hook.”
“Did you know that many in India think the English do things backwards? We all want to fall in love and marry, whereas their marriages are frequently arranged. They think you marry then fall in love.”
Fascinated, Elizabeth asked, “I have not read about this. How does the system work?”
“Among the higher ranks, marriages are frequently more like business arrangements, much like those in English high society. For most, their families try to pick suitable mates by matching characteristics they think will suit in the long run.”
Elizabeth nodded in thought. “The very idea rails against my sensibilities, but it is difficult to judge whether it rails against something fundamental, or simply conflicts with many years of thinking as an English lady is taught. I believe Miss Lucas would have been happy to be born into Indian society. It would have saved her a great deal of trouble and consternation.”
Mrs Gardiner said, “This is indeed fascinating, but I am still unable to resolve this ambiguity—and I remain unconvinced that all of us should be in such a public discussion.”
Elizabeth said, “Perhaps, but I do not mind. Do you, Mr Darcy? I think we can trust Mr Bingley to keep his friend’s confidence, and I believe we can trust Miss Bingley to keep quiet as the grave about anything that might help me do whatever it is that I am supposedly doing.
Naturally, Mr Newton and Kep are proven trustworthy. ”
Darcy laughed. Miss Bingley scowled, but nodded in agreement… or defeat. Plainly, she had no desire to be banned from Pemberley forever.
“Now we come to the ambiguous part,” Darcy said.
“I fully intend to court Miss Bennet for the foreseeable future the way a woman should be courted by a man. Whether that courtship happens before, during, or after a wedding ceremony makes little difference. Should we come to an agreement, I will follow any sequence she desires.”
Elizabeth gasped to hear it spoken so plainly. She should have been prepared for the bold declaration, since she started the rock rolling down the hill in the first place, but the plain words filled her with trepidation.
Darcy stepped before her and held out his hands, palms up. She took them without thought.
“Now you know. This was not how I planned this. I intended something more subtle and—ah—private, but I would like to court you and marry you, in whatever sequence you choose.”
They stood staring at each other in some wonder, both trying to understand how they had placed themselves into such an awkward position and wondering what came next?
He smiled engagingly. “At your earliest convenience.”
Darcy must have recognised he had gone too far, for the telltale signs of an impending thought storm brewed. It appeared his Elizabeth had bitten off more than she could chew, so he followed the time-honoured and efficient technique of kicking her.
He leaned in and whispered, “Your sister described the signs and instructed me to do that.”
He stood straight and offered his arm. “I can see this carriage has run away with us, and we both need to be moving to make sense of it—you more than me. May I have the pleasure, Elizabeth?”
She smiled. “I hate to be rude but—”
“Do not hold back on our account,” Mrs Gardiner said.
“Bingley, if you would be so kind, I would ask you to stay the night,” Darcy said. “You may leave in the morning if you care to, but I would feel churlish sending you out so late. Mr and Mrs Gardiner, are you of a mind to accept the invitation?”
“Much as we would like to, I feel it would not be quite correct”, Mr Gardiner said.
“How so?”
Gardiner stepped closer and spoke softly enough for only Darcy, Elizabeth, and his wife to hear.
“You two have painted yourselves into a corner, and you need room to manoeuvre. You cannot have your intended staying in your home; if we retain our present lodgings, you retain all options.”
“Understandable. Should you prefer to return to the inn or go inside for refreshments?”
“I trust Mrs Reynolds to see to our needs. Go take your walk before Lizzy starts chewing her fingernails, which I can assure you is an experience you may wish to defer,” Mrs Gardiner replied.
Mr Gardiner added, “Should we send a footman? You know the stakes.”
“I have walked alone with Mr Darcy in the past, and I expect to do so in future, regardless of how we resolve his suggestion. I will be fine.”
“Very well. Off with you,” he said kindly, and raised his voice. “Mr and Miss Bingley, shall we see what Mrs Reynolds has prepared?”