Chapter IX #2
As their father instructed them but little, Lydia did not know how to take it, and this allowed Mr. Bennet to speak again.
“Given what we learned of Wickham and our discussions yesterday, I am wondering if we should rethink our interest in the officers. Your behavior while with them treads the line of what is proper.”
Aghast, Lydia could not muster a response, allowing Kitty to speak in her stead. “You do not want us to see the officers anymore?”
“What I want, Kitty, is prudence,” replied Mr. Bennet.
“So long as they are in the neighborhood, there is little chance of avoiding them.
The truth, however, is that you and your sister have gone about with nothing but the officers in your heads for several months now.
It is high time you behaved as young gentlewomen ought.
“Lydia,” continued Mr. Bennet as the girl was gathering herself for an impressive outburst, “you should think twice before you say anything further. Remember that I am your father, and you are underage. If you do not wish me to rescind your permission to attend local society and return you to the nursery, you had best not provoke me.”
That silenced Lydia, though her petulance remained.
A pouting Lydia was far preferable to a screeching Lydia, so Elizabeth was inclined to accept minor victories when she could.
Kitty was subdued, but Lydia grabbed her hand and led her to a corner, where they sat whispering.
Elizabeth fixed them with a critical eye, noting that Lydia was doing most of the talking while Kitty listened, most likely plotting how to persuade their father to relent.
Given her father’s character and Lydia’s determination, Elizabeth did not know who would prevail.
If she were to guess, she might choose Lydia, for she suspected her sister would wear down her father’s patience.
“If you will forgive me, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, capturing her attention again, “I have never considered your father to be an authoritarian.”
Elizabeth smiled and fixed her father with an affectionate look.
“No, Mr. Darcy, he is not. Papa has many sterling qualities, but he finds living in a house with six women taxing to his patience, particularly my youngest sisters. As you have been in company with them, you must already understand they are not shy and retiring girls.”
A slight smile curved Mr. Darcy’s lips. “No, I cannot think anyone would describe them thus and maintain a straight face.”
“Unless I am mistaken,” continued Elizabeth, “Lydia is now plotting how to induce Papa to relent.”
“I doubt your father will prevent them from seeing the officers—as he suggested himself, it will be difficult to avoid them so long as they remain in the district. The mere threat of it may do much to alter their behavior.”
“If Papa can withstand their whining.” Elizabeth turned a wry smile on Mr. Darcy. “That is no guarantee, Mr. Darcy, for I give even odds that she will wear him down and force him back to his study.”
“You never know, Miss Elizabeth,” replied Mr. Darcy. “The business with Wickham appears to have changed his perspective. A man who has seen the warning signs may do much to change his approach—I suspect your father has seen the danger that he never acknowledged before.”
“I hope so, Mr. Darcy.”
For several minutes after, they sat in companionable silence.
They were, she noted, a subject of curiosity, probably because everyone in her family knew of her previous opinion of Mr. Darcy.
Mrs. Bennet kept darting questioning looks at Elizabeth, though she knew her mother would commend her for keeping the attention of such a disagreeable man.
Mr. Hurst and her father appeared to be speaking of something diverting, and the frequent glances both sent her way suggested she and Mr. Darcy were the subject of their jesting.
Elizabeth might have suspected Mr. Darcy had exhausted his limited supply of words that day, had he not opened his mouth soon after.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth, but I have a question I would like to ask you.”
Elizabeth turned to him, noting that the unflappable Mr. Darcy appeared quite discomposed. Not understanding what was bothering him, she did nothing more than nod.
“Is it true—well, I have heard—” Mr. Darcy paused and gathered himself. “Is it true that you rejected a proposal of marriage from your father’s cousin?”
Feeling a hint of mischief coming over her, Elizabeth opted for teasing. “Is that so surprising, Mr. Darcy? Do you think it shocking that there is a man in the world who is interested in me?”
While it was a jest, there was a measure of curiosity that Elizabeth could not deny.
Since this man had disparaged her charms, it seemed reasonable to suppose he could not imagine any man finding her attractive.
As her perspective had changed, however, it occurred to her to wonder if something other than distaste for her person had provoked Mr. Darcy’s comment at the assembly.
The gentleman started at her response and replied at once. “Not at all!”
Elizabeth regarded him, feeling his sincerity, but he was not finished.
“Any man would be fortunate to have you for a wife, Miss Elizabeth. What I cannot fathom is any man proposing on the strength of a week’s acquaintance.”
“It was precipitous,” agreed Elizabeth. “I suspect you would not be so quick to pay a woman your addresses.”
“Not at all,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “By nature, I am far more cautious than that. While I can understand instant attraction well enough, to suppose a man is in love with a woman after only a few meetings is beyond my comprehension. A man would not even know a woman under such circumstances.”
“I cannot say you are incorrect,” said Elizabeth. “But it is much worse than that, for Mr. Collins was so disappointed by my rejection that he proposed to my dear friend, Charlotte Lucas, mere days after I broke his heart forever.”
“So Hurst has told me,” replied the gentleman, shaking his head. “Such a transfer in three days strains credulity.”
“Two days, actually.” Elizabeth grinned. “Mr. Collins proposed to me on Wednesday, the day after the ball, but was obliged to return to Kent on Saturday. His successful proposal occurred on Friday.”
“And Miss Lucas?” asked Mr. Darcy. “I cannot suppose she felt much more for Mr. Collins than the reverse.”
“Prudence dictated Charlotte’s response, Mr. Darcy. As a woman approaching that dreaded time where all hope for marriage must be lost, she accepted him because his prospects are good, and she wished for a situation of her own. Charlotte does not love him.”
Elizabeth leaned closer as if to impart a secret. “Though I would never say as much to my friend, the notion of anyone finding Mr. Collins appealing as a prospective husband disgusts me.”
The gentleman stifled a laugh at Elizabeth’s irreverent comment. “Perhaps it is something you should not say in company, but I cannot say I do not understand. In truth, I cannot see you as the wife to such a man as Collins—every proper feeling rebels against such an unequal connection.”
It was impossible not to feel flattered at the compliment. “Nor could I, Mr. Darcy. I was fortunate in that my father agreed with him—my mother did not, and she was not shy about stating her opinion.”
This appeared to be a piece of information he either had not possessed or to which he had given little thought. “Your mother wished for the match?”
“You must understand my mother, Mr. Darcy. Mama has long feared the entail would leave her destitute. As there will be little money to support us should my father pass on unexpectedly, she compensates in the only way that makes sense to her—by hoping for her daughters to make good marriages.”
Mr. Darcy considered this. “That does make sense from a certain point of view. Then you do not share your mother’s fear of the entail?”
Choosing her words carefully, Elizabeth said: “I understand the situation, Mr. Darcy, and I do not underestimate the challenges of genteel poverty. However, while my mother wishes to see us all—and herself—supported through marriage, she takes no thought for situation and temper, or her daughters’ wishes in life.
To me, there is no more disagreeable notion than to marry a man who will make my life miserable.
Such a life is less tolerable than even subsisting on very little. ”
Mr. Darcy grew quiet, and Elizabeth wondered what he was thinking.
If it had been only a week ago, she might have suspected he thought her imprudent for her convictions.
Now, however, she was trying to see him in a different light—his behavior that day did not suggest disgust for her idealism.
Even so, she could not imagine what form his answer would take.
“I must commend you for your convictions, Miss Elizabeth,” said the gentleman at last. “Many would behave like your friend, and no one would say they were anything but prudent.”
“I understand prudence, but I do not wish to be ruled by it.
“As for Mama . . .” Elizabeth shrugged. “She has good reasons for her opinions, though mine are different. My mother is not all naked ambition, though she often gives the impression of it. Her heart is in the right place, though I do not always appreciate her methods.”
“Then what do you want in a marriage?”
“The same as any other romantic woman of my position in society,” replied Elizabeth. “Love, respect, a husband who adores me and makes me the center of his life.”
“What of the man’s situation?” pressed he. “Surely you wish to marry a man who can give you a life of fulfillment.”
“Of course,” said Elizabeth. “Yet fulfillment may mean different things to different people. If I loved a man and knew he could give me a comfortable situation, I would marry a parson as readily as I would marry a prince. It all hinges on my estimation of the man in question, and whether I am convinced of his love and respect for me.”
“That is all well and good, Elizabeth,” said Mrs. Bennet, having caught something of the conversation. “But you would do well to recall that men who can support you are not plentiful.”
“I never said they were, Mama,” replied Elizabeth.
Mrs. Bennet eyed her. “Then I hope you consider that should you receive another offer of marriage.”
“I shall, Mama. Of that you may be certain.”
That satisfied Mrs. Bennet as much as she could be satisfied, given her continued complaints of ill use in the matter of Mr. Collins.
Mrs. Bennet did not receive the assurance she desired, though Elizabeth knew her mother would consider her acceptance a fait accompli should she receive another proposal.
Mr. Darcy, she noted, appeared to understand this, though he married understanding with a determination not to provoke her mother by revealing the true meaning of her response.
Not that she thought the gentleman would concern himself, regardless.
“Tell me, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, lowering his voice and leaning in closer, “do you have another man in mind to assume the role that Mr. Collins did not fulfill the way you wished?”
Elizabeth chuckled softly to avoid her mother’s scrutiny. “In saying this, you suggest I anticipated Mr. Collins’s addresses.”
“Not at all,” replied Mr. Darcy. “But you are a young woman of marrying age—as a romantic, which you own yourself, do you not wish for a suitor?”
“I would not be opposed if one stepped forward. Yet to say I am looking for one is also not accurate.”
“Pardon me, but are you of age?”
The conversation had become surreal, but Elizabeth endeavored to answer.
“I shall be one and twenty in July. As my father declined to force me into matrimony with Mr. Collins, you must understand that I have full autonomy over my life, whether or not I am of age. Should I accept a man’s offer before I come of age, my father will not object.
On the other hand, should I reject another proposal, I have my father’s full support. ”
Mr. Darcy nodded, deep in thought. Then he changed the subject.
“As Bingley mentioned, my sister is to join us at Netherfield tomorrow. I hope I do not ask too much if I request to introduce her to your acquaintance.”
“Not at all, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth. “I am eager to know her. After all, no less an authority than Miss Bingley has declared your sister to be a dear, sweet girl.”
As Elizabeth had expected, Mr. Darcy made a face. “Though Miss Bingley claims an intimate acquaintance with Georgiana, my sister does not return the sentiment. Georgiana is shy and finds Miss Bingley overwhelming.”
“Then perhaps you can share your insights of your sister, Mr. Darcy—you must know her far better than Miss Bingley could ever claim.”
Mr. Darcy agreed, and they spent the balance of the visit speaking of the man’s sister.
Though Elizabeth was certain affection colored his account of his much younger sibling, Elizabeth suspected his impression was far more accurate than Miss Bingley’s toadying compliments.
And Elizabeth grew impatient to make Miss Darcy’s acquaintance—she was convinced she would find the girl lovely and amiable.