23. 23 November 1811
DARCY
It was decided, the next morning, that Bingley, the Darcys and their Fitzwilliam relations, and Elizabeth would make a formal call to Longbourn.
“Do you wish to go, Georgiana?” Elizabeth asked.
“I would,” she replied.
Darcy warned her that she might be overwhelmed by the volume and manners of the entire family, but she still wished to see and hear the family for herself. “I need to get used to all sorts of people, Brother,” she reasoned.
Elizabeth appeared very nervous about making a formal call on her own family. “What do you suppose my father will do, or say—in front of everyone?”
“I do not know,” Darcy replied, “But I promise to escort you away the moment you feel unsafe or uncomfortable.”
Darcy felt that he had never seen Elizabeth’s family behave so well.
The Misses Lydia and Kitty seemed very much impressed by Darcy’s introductions of the Earl and Countess of Matlock and his subsequent use of the titles Lord and Lady Matlock.
The youngest Bennet sisters were quieter than usual, although still quite lively, and they smiled often but giggled not at all.
Miss Mary barely spoke, other than to Georgiana, with whom she discussed music.
Mrs Bennet was able to refrain from shrieking, never mentioned anyone’s wealth, and only once complained of her nerves.
As always, she was a warm hostess who offered more quantity and quality of foods than most. That day, she had ordered quite a splendid tea, with several kinds of cakes, savoury meat pies, delicate finger sandwiches, and delicious tea as well as sherry.
Perhaps most surprising, Mr Bennet said nothing at all to Darcy or Elizabeth.
He shuffled out of his bookroom when everyone first arrived, and he therefore heard the introductions.
He sat with the group and enjoyed the tea, but the moment his plate was empty, Mr Bennet stood and said that he longed to get back to his bookroom to continue reading Roman History.
“It was published a month ago, and I had to wait until this morning to receive my order,” he explained.
Lord Matlock shot up from his chair and asked, “You are reading Barthold Georg Niebuhr’s Romische Geschichte?”
“I am.”
“Can I—Would you mind—”
“Would you like to see it?” Mr Bennet asked the suddenly inarticulate earl.
The two men left for the bookroom, chattering away with enthusiasm.
Darcy had gathered that Elizabeth’s father had many academic interests and read a broad assortment of books; he felt very pleased at the fortuitous coincidence that her father happened to be reading about the only academic interest of his uncle.
Richard was, as always, cordial and unreserved.
He acquiesced to speaking of the Army to Miss Lydia, and for a while the younger Bennets and Georgiana all listened to his stories.
He doubtlessly edited the truth to make the tales appropriate to young ladies.
Although Richard spoke a bit too loudly at times, and laughed far too loudly most of the time, the Bennets all seemed to like him.
Lady Matlock seemed to be on high alert, and Darcy wondered if she was thinking she might have to do battle against Elizabeth’s parents.
He thought that himself, but with Mr Bennet happily speaking of Ancient Rome to his uncle, and Mrs Bennet happily contemplating Jane and Bingley speaking in one corner and him and Elizabeth obviously enjoying each other within the larger group, he supposed that the issue of Mr Bennet might be solved without much acknowledgment that there ever was a problem.
Mrs Bennet attempted to prevail upon the guests to stay for dinner, and Darcy chuckled as his aunt said, “You must offer a very generous table, indeed, madam, if you could easily accommodate six extra guests!”
Mrs Bennet said, “My cook is very used to unexpected additions, and she keeps a pantry full of possibilities in case our number swells.”
Darcy said firmly, “My sister and Miss Elizabeth must still travel to the family that is hosting them, and I do not wish them to travel there in the dark. Thank you for your warm hospitality, Mrs Bennet.”
Bingley invited everyone to his house the next day, for tea, and the group finally departed.
Darcy and a footman escorted the carriage carrying Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Mrs Annesley back to the house in High Cross.
Once there, Darcy met with Mr Nicholls and haggled over money. Darcy attempted to pay for the kindness the Nicholls had extended to his sister and the other ladies, while Mr Nicholls attempted to turn away even a small payment.
Finally, Darcy said, “Mr Nicholls, do you tithe to your church?”
“I do, of course,” he said.
“Then might I pay a generous donation for your church?”
Mr Nicholls chuckled and finally accepted a small purse full of coins. “This is all going to the church,” he said to Darcy.
“As you choose,” Darcy said. “I wish you to know how much we appreciate your generosity.”
Before he left, Darcy said, “Georgiana, there has been so much happening, I feel that we have had only a few seconds here and there in which we could talk. May I escort you on a short walk?”
“I would like that.”
They had walked perhaps ten yards away from the house along an empty street in the small market town before Darcy finally asked, “I take it you are very fond of Elizabeth?”
“Ohhh, yes. She is so amazing,” Georgiana said. “I felt so comfortable with her, I broke your rule about never telling anyone about…you know, about Ramsgate.”
Darcy was shocked that she had so immediately wished to do so.
He did not reveal that he had already told Elizabeth everything about the incident; instead he assured, “I approve of your telling her, because I hope she will soon be our very closest relation, and in my opinion she needed to know about this event. I completely trust her, and I imagine that you realised you could, as well.”
“I do trust her, Will. And…I love you and Richard so much, but you put all the blame on four people: that man whose name will never again pass my lips, Mrs Younge, and yourselves. You do not admit that you blame me.”
“You were so vocal, blaming yourself, Georgiana. You took too much of the blame, and it did not seem right.”
“Miss Elizabeth heard me blaming myself, too, but this is what she said: She said I was showing an utter lack of perspective in my self-blame, and I over-generalised as a young child might. She said that what she heard from me was that I was bad, and stupid, and that I should have known that nobody would ever love me as he claimed he did. Miss Elizabeth said having those ill thoughts of myself was a way of shirking my true responsibility.”
“Did she?” Darcy was not certain how he felt about that, but Georgiana went on.
“She did. And she is right. Miss Elizabeth told me that I had much more capability of acting well than of acting poorly, and therefore I could not be ‘bad’ as I had said. She told me, ‘You acted badly in this particular circumstance, but that does not make you bad.’ She said that everyone makes mistakes, especially when we are moving from childhood to adulthood. She said that we must learn from our mistakes, and part of that is not thinking in terms of all-bad or all-good. Most things are not black or white.”
“I have always thought that Miss Elizabeth is wise beyond her years.”
“Yes! And, Brother, she pointed out how intelligent and knowledgeable I am on so many topics, so telling myself I am stupid because I made a mistake is just showing more black-and-white thinking. Finally, she assured me that I am worthy of love.”
Darcy felt a gush of emotion. That Elizabeth and Georgiana had already, within the first few days of their acquaintance, talked about such important topics…. It was almost incredible.
“You will make her my sister will you not?”
“You heard us talk about this, Georgiana. I wanted some of the emotions of the past few days to abate, so that there will be no pressure or additional complications to consider when I propose, which I will do tomorrow.”
“Good. I am so happy, Will,” his sister said.
“I am happy for myself, and for you. And more than that, I am proud of you for having discovered such a lovely lady, and for seeing her loveliness, and especially for showing her your appreciation. I am so happy that you did not make her despise you because you did that whole high-and-mighty act.”
Darcy felt affronted—his much younger sister never spoke to him as Richard did.
“Yes,” Georgiana said, “all of that.” She pointed her finger at him and then drew a circle in the air. He realised that he was frowning, and that the frown felt quite familiar on his face.
He consciously smoothed his brow and then smiled. His sister smiled back. “Keep at me, Poppet,” Darcy said. “I need your guidance, just as you need mine.”
“Have a safe ride back to Netherfield, Will. Sleep well.
Richard generally acted as a conduit between the Darcys and his family, so it did not surprise Darcy that, after the earl and countess retired, Richard approached and asked for a private conversation.
Bingley once again offered his study. “We will stay here and bitterly argue over our partners’ play,” he said with a jovial smile.
His family was setting up a table for a game of Whist. Other evenings, Darcy had been in the room as the Bingleys vied against the Hursts at the Whist table; he knew that his friend did not exaggerate.
Richard eagerly helped himself to Bingley’s brandy and silently asked Darcy if he wished to partake, lifting his eyebrows as he hoisted the bottle. Darcy shook his head.
The men sat in chairs by the fire that had minutes before been built up for their comfort. Richard sipped the spirit and sighed out an appreciative, “Good man, Bingley. Good man.”
“Well, Richard, are we here just so you can drain my friend’s supply of brandy, or do you actually need to talk?”
“My parents,” Richard said. He chuckled ruefully and said, “Have I said enough? Or should I go on?”
“Pray go on. I gathered that they admire Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet. They seemed perfectly accepting of the Bennet family, as well.”
“All that is true. But I cannot wonder if my father still thinks you could do better by wedding someone who is well connected, and I heard my mother say, just today, that you marrying someone with no fortune at all diminishes the entire family.”
“I am positive that your father cares about me marrying a well-connected lady solely to promote his own political advancement. As for your mother’s concerns, my fortune is quite separate from that of your parents.
I am certain that anyone who knows me understands that I take into consideration Georgiana and the people who depend on me—servants and tenants, for the most part, but to some extent the nearby townspeople—whenever I make a decision about anything involving money.
However, I will not widen that consideration to Matlock and Rosings.
I am my own man, and I will marry Elizabeth Bennet unless she turns me down. ”
“I know. And I am quite glad that this rumour thing happened just when my parents were here, because I truly have seen them changing their minds about what you should or should not be doing. I believe they are ready to support you, tooth and nail.”
“So you made it sound as if they have grave concerns about my choice of bride even though they no longer do?”
“Well, they are confused. They both feel you are so altered, and indeed they are correct. You are—forgive me, because it sounds so unlike you—utterly captivated. As if she has put a spell of enchantment on you.”
Darcy had known that something like this was coming, and he was happy that his cousin had not used the word “infatuated.” He felt certain that an infatuation was widely understood to be short lived, whereas captivation and enchantment could be lifelong, could they not?
Even though he did not subscribe to ideas of magic, even in affairs of the heart, he did not mind the analogy of a magical bond between him and Elizabeth, because at least such a bond might be seen as powerful and long-lasting.
Richard waited for Darcy to respond. Darcy was convinced his cousin was waiting for an explosion of fury that would not come. He just smiled.
“Ah,” Richard breathed. “So you agree that your lady has laid a magic spell on you?”
“Having never been in love before, despite the fact that I am seven and twenty, I have to admit that it feels a bit magical, if magic actually existed.”
Richard laughed loud and long. “Well, seeing your eyes as you look at your lady, and hearing that love feels like magic to the most rational person I know, I can be very, very certain that I have never been in love, even if I am two years your elder.”
Still chuckling, Richard continued: “I have liked plenty of ladies very well indeed, but I have no regrets about not having loved any of them because so many men indicate that love is a very troublesome emotion. Actually, it strikes me that you do not seem to feel tortured enough for this to be true love. I have not actually read Byron and Coleridge, but I know you have. Do they and others not portray love as a feverish sickness, a destructive fire, a portal to grief and despair?”
“If Miss Elizabeth does not marry me, check on me every month or so. I assume I will be mired in grief and despair, thus affirming the poets’ dismal view of the emotion.”
“When my parents and I first scoffed at the idea that any woman would ever turn down a marriage proposal from you, you seemed to believe that a refusal was possible. But now, having seen her behaviour towards you, I am certain she will say yes, and I know that you are just as certain.”
Darcy could not prevent a smile spreading over his face, and Richard laughed again, shook his head and muttered that his cousin was a stranger. He added, “I am for bed.”
Bed, of course, was the one place in which being in love did feel quite torturous, but Darcy did enjoy roughly half of his dreams, so he had no reluctance to follow his cousin in bidding his hosts good night and hurrying to his own chamber.