Chapter 3
After the tête-à-tête with her uncle and aunt, Elizabeth’s surprise at the subject of their discussion gave way to a more troubled state of mind and tormented reflections, torment that only increased as she was turning over in her head the shocking proposition that had been presented to her, becoming painfully unbearable.
She needed a time of solitude until her mind accepted that they were seriously suggesting she consider marriage to a perfect stranger.
One of the reasons she had left home was the huge row with her stepmother over Mr Collins — her father’s cousin and the heir of Longbourn.
The ridiculous, conceited clergyman had dared to court her — or what he considered courting — and had the audacity to propose.
He might have chosen Jane — who was prettier and possessed of a calmer and gentler disposition — as she was the first to arrest his regard when he arrived in Hertfordshire; but he found out quickly, no doubt from a reliable source, who was the only Bennet sister with money, so his decision was easily swayed.
She was grateful that none of her family or acquaintances, except for her father and uncle, were aware of the true amount of her fortune.
The known sum was ten thousand pounds, which was not insignificant but not conspicuous either, and it kept Elizabeth largely sheltered from her stepmother’s greed.
If she had agreed to further support her stepmother and sisters’ silly and imprudent expenses and further indulge their tendency to dissipation, certainly Mrs Bennet would have never encouraged her to marry.
What better plan than Elizabeth, the least favoured among the Bennet girls according to the matron, remaining a spinster and using her money to please the others?
Her determined refusal had induced Mrs Bennet to wish to get rid of her, marrying her to the first man who showed interest. How could she or the clergyman have expected Elizabeth to accept such an arrangement?
It was ridiculous and showed they did not know her at all.
Or maybe Mrs Bennet sought to kill two birds with one stone: to get rid of her step-daughter and obtain some of her money by striking a bargain with the sycophantic suitor.
Her father had supported Elizabeth’s decision and sent her immediately to London, as she requested.
For that, Elizabeth was deeply grateful and indeed disposed to forget some of their past grievances.
In the Gardiners’ house, she was protected, she was at peace, and she was happy.
Or at least she had been until that very day, when the subject of her marriage had been brought up again, and another man — though one seemingly less silly and ridiculous — had expressed an interest in her money.
This time it was her dearest relatives who were pressing her to accept.
The feeling of betrayal seared her heart, and she had retired from their company lest she might give voice to it.
When she left the library, Elizabeth was determined to keep up the appearance of appropriate consideration of the notion for a few hours and then refuse the ludicrous scheme.
But she kept turning the conversation over in her mind, pondering each argument. Of one thing she was certain — the Gardiners did not want or need her money. She had repeatedly offered, yet they had dismissed it instantly.
Mr Gardiner was the only relative she knew on her mother’s side — a second cousin who had been very young, almost a child still, when her parents married.
In her memories, there were vivid recollections of visits from Edward Gardiner.
She knew of the existence of a letter naming him her guardian along with her father and a witness in all matters related to her fortune.
There was also another cousin, born in India five years before Elizabeth, but all their attempts to discover his whereabouts had failed so far.
Who else could Elizabeth rely on and confide in, if not her uncle and his wife?
She had nobody closer, nobody kinder, nobody more trustworthy.
They seemed to believe — quite strongly — that an arranged marriage to a stranger might be to her benefit.
A stranger about whom she knew nothing, but they held in the highest esteem.
At that moment, she wished she had not read so many novels and had not allowed herself to dream of romance, of love, and of passion as a suitable inducement into matrimony.
In her dreams — or in her conversations with Jane — she declared she would only marry for the deepest love or remain alone for the rest of her life.
She had the means to purchase a house and live comfortably in her own establishment, with a paid companion or a sister, and she could also support and shelter Jane, too, if she wished.
Being bound to — putting herself into the power of — someone she could not love and respect was far worse than being alone.
In truth, she was aware that many marriages were arranged, and it was only a matter of chance if the two partners reached a point of mutual respect and affection.
She had heard that her parents married for love.
Her father and her stepmother — certainly not.
Her acquaintances outside Meryton were scarce, but except for the Gardiners, she could not name another happy and harmonious family — in the way Elizabeth imagined felicity in marriage.
The Gardiners had declared that she could not find a better man than this Mr Darcy, even if she were to look for one among the cream of London society.
Could that be true? Surely it was an exaggeration.
But then again, they had known Mr Darcy for a long time.
If she happened to meet someone, fall in love, and marry that someone in due time, there was still a risk she would not discover his true character until after the wedding, when it would be too late.
In such a case, that man would own her completely — her and all her money — and she would have no say, never be able to impose any rules, conditions, or limitations.
As the hours passed, such contradictory thoughts spun in Elizabeth’s head, and despite the confusion they caused, she reflected deeply upon the idea of marrying Mr Darcy. It came as a shock to realise that the more she pondered it, the more reasonable it sounded.
Things were simple — painfully simple. If she refused to ever marry, she must wait nearly ten more years until she could claim full possession of her inheritance, her money, which would give her complete liberty.
If she decided to marry, there was a chance she might meet a man she would fall in love with, but it was unlikely she would ever know his character as deeply as she would like.
Could she trust her own judgment to seal her fate?
A marriage to this Mr Darcy — an honourable gentleman with apparently few flaws of character, a good name, good family, and good connections — would give her the opportunity to impose her own rules, her own demands, her own conditions, and provide her with a certain protection.
If he was a man of his word, as her uncle proclaimed, at least he would not force his will upon her — in any way.
Moreover, Mr Gardiner said Mr Darcy would be willing to draw up and sign a contract, aside from the marriage settlement, promising he would return her money in a year.
If that was true, she could be in possession of her entire fortune within twelve months, and if they could not find common ground for an acceptable marriage, they might very well live separately, as each of them wished, only keeping up an appearance of respectability.
Many arranged marriages turned out that way.
From that perspective, the situation did not appear as dramatic as it had first sounded.
Perhaps she did not have everything to lose and nothing to gain, as she had feared — as she had said in the library.
Perhaps that arrangement would not only solve Mr Darcy’s problems but hers too.
Perhaps — just perhaps — the Gardiners were not entirely wrong.
The question was whether she could trust Mr and Mrs Gardiner with her life and whether they were good judges of character. Regardless, she would take the time to speak to Mr Darcy and to appraise him with her own eyes, her own wit, her own heart.
Another question was how would Mr Darcy respond when she presented her requests, and would he agree for her conditions to be written down and signed?
She would carefully watch his countenance and his eyes during their discussion and try to guess his feelings on the matter, behind his words.
Mrs Gardiner said he was handsome. Elizabeth cared little about that.
She did not expect, nor need, to like him.
It was enough if she could trust him to indeed be a man of his word.
Her first impression of him would determine whether she accepted the arrangement that would bind their lives together. In fact, it would be the second impression; the first one, as little as she had seen him, had indicated that Mrs Gardiner was right, at least in regard to his handsomeness.
At dinner time, a maid brought a tray, and very much to her surprise, Elizabeth found herself not only calm enough to eat but also to plan what she should wear the next day, at the meeting with Mr Darcy.
***
Darcy had been to the Gardiners’ house too many times to even count or remember, yet he felt disconcerted and overwhelmed with anxiety when he knocked on the door.
It was not surprising, though. After all, it was not a friendly call upon the happy and loving family but his first meeting with Miss Elizabeth Bennet, a complete stranger who was holding his reputation, his name, and his future — perhaps even his life — in her hands.
He was still uncomfortable recollecting their brief encounter and his unguarded words that she might have overheard.
Of her appearance, he had noticed little but her scrutinising and uncommonly pretty eyes.
More than her looks, he was interested in her circumstances and her response to the peculiar marriage proposal, made through an intermediate — her own uncle.
Would she even consider it? Why would she?
If she had everything at her disposal already for a comfortable life, why go to such trouble?
Was she being forced by something? Someone?
A peculiar circumstance? Had Mr Gardiner mentioned anything about the nature of his problems?
Would her decision differ if she knew the full truth?
With such questions but no answers, he had waited the entire previous day for a note from Mr Gardiner, which had not arrived until the evening, offering him a response to at least one of his concerns.
So, there he was, standing in front of the door, waiting in the cold yet feeling strangely warm.
Instead of the butler, Mr Gardiner himself appeared, with a brief greeting and a serious countenance that did not reveal anything. Darcy followed him along the hall, towards the most important meeting he might ever be involved in — and surely the most hazardous.
The host opened the door, and they entered the morning room; Darcy paused a moment, looking at the two ladies sitting on the sofa.
One of them was smiling, the other gazed at him, her brow furrowed, her hands clasped in her lap, clearly taking his measure.
He bowed his greetings and they nodded in return.
“Come, Mr Darcy, please take a seat. Would you like a drink? Some cake?”
“Thank you, Mrs Gardiner, but not this time.”
“We should at least indulge in a little pleasure since the conversation will be uncomfortable enough.”
“Please do not trouble yourself on my behalf.”
“Well then, let us begin,” Mr Gardiner said. “I have already spoken to Elizabeth and explained the circumstances to her. As I expected, she did not take the suggestion either well or accept it readily. However, she eventually agreed not to dismiss the proposal entirely.”
“Miss Bennet is very generous and kind, and I am truly grateful to her,” he said.
“Please do not assume that, Mr Darcy,” Miss Bennet interjected. “I do not deserve any more praise than any other woman in my position, and some people might believe I have more faults than qualities. We should be honest in describing our own characters.”
Her voice was strong and cold, and strangely, that put him at ease. She certainly did not sound like someone who could be forced into something against her will.
“I absolutely agree, Miss Bennet. And I find it refreshing to hear you describing your character, as it might be similar to mine.”
“Might it? My uncle and aunt led me to believe you are a man without fault,” she challenged, arching her eyebrow.
“I certainly hope they did not do that. If they did, it was certainly merely proof of our mutual appreciation and loyal friendship.”
“Well, it is refreshing to see you are both modest and unfair in your own descriptions,” Mr Gardiner interjected.
“In that, you are equal.” He smiled, then continued in a more serious tone.
“You are also equal because Mr Darcy is an excellent gentleman and you are an excellent lady and the daughter of a gentleman, Lizzy.”
Darcy only nodded, as did Miss Bennet.
“As I already mentioned, Mrs Gardiner suggested this arrangement because we are both convinced it would be to the advantage of you both…and because we firmly believe that what may begin under peculiar circumstances has every chance of becoming a long and happy marriage.”
“Let us not speak of hopes and a distant future, dear uncle,” Miss Bennet said. “I dare say the present and near future require a practical approach and a clear understanding.”
“I agree,” Darcy replied. Her coldness and self-confidence concerned him far less than the Gardiners’ hopeful assumptions.
“I am glad we at least agree in our disagreement with my uncle and aunt, Mr Darcy.”
“I hope we shall agree in other matters, too, Miss Bennet.”
“We shall see. For now, would you mind explaining these unusual circumstances, as you see them? I have been given them in general terms, but the details could make a difference.”
“Should I relate everything, from the beginning? Or perhaps you would rather question me in regard to specific points?”
“You may be right. Perhaps asking would be more efficient. I understand you need to marry in order to acquire a certain amount of money. It seems you are seeking a wife and a fortune at the same time.”
Darcy took a breath, surprised by the ruthlessness of her direct statement. Yet it was true.