Chapter Oh, you do not disturb us.
Elizabeth regarded the note with even deeper grim satisfaction.
She asked Margaret to address the letter, then smeared the ink slightly to ensure it would not be read promptly, put it in the common post for delivery two days hence, and considered the matter settled.
Her father might be angry when he eventually read it in a few weeks, and there might be consequences for her action, but it was done and done for the best. Absence of refusal did not truly imply permission, but why quibble over minor details?
Sometimes Lizzy, you just have to do what you have to do. Quit whining and just do it.
Elizabeth silently thanked Charlotte for her good advice, blew out the candle, and went to sleep.
“You look troubled, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth started slightly. Margaret was in the music room practising her harp, while Elizabeth sat with the Wythes for a brief visit.
“My apologies, Mr and Mrs Wythe. I did not mean to disturb.”
“Oh, you do not disturb us.”
Elizabeth studied Mr Wythe, but he smiled and continued.
“Perhaps it would help to discuss what troubles you. Sometimes a trouble shared is a trouble halved.”
“I have a question, if you do not mind.”
“We never mind a question, dear. We may not answer, but usually a question hurts nothing.”
Elizabeth blew out a breath. “How can you trust me? You have known me less than twelve hours, yet you offered to take me on this wonderful journey with nary a backward glance.”
Mr Wythe asked, “Are you implying you are untrustworthy?”
Elizabeth looked ashamed. “No, but I have not told you everything.”
Mrs Wythe leaned across to take her hand. “Ah, but that is the question. Have you told us enough? I do not need to know more than you wish to share. It seems obvious you wish to avoid your home for a few weeks, but we believe there is no harm in you.”
Mr Wythe leaned forward. “Let us turn the problem over by posing a hypothetical. Suppose you had your own reasons to avoid your father’s house. Do you think you might be desperate enough to take a long journey with someone you judged untrustworthy?”
“Of course not. I would find another way.”
Mrs Wythe squeezed her hand, while Mr Wythe sipped his tea before continuing.
“And is your father likely to give you trouble after this journey?”
“Probably not. He usually trusts my judgement and dislikes interfering in his daughters’ affairs.”
She did not mention that she had no idea if he did so out of faith in their judgement or mere indolence.
“You are young and naturally trusting,” Mr Wythe continued. “You react to a thousand clues of which you are mostly unaware—as are most people. I wager it would take an Act of Parliament to make you change your first impression of our Margaret?”
“More like an Act of God.”
The Wythes laughed. “First impressions are dangerous, but most take them almost instantly and rarely change our minds. It is human nature. Some are blessed with the natural ability to judge better in that first moment, and some study for years to learn how, since it is a skill that can be learned like any other. It is important to know when to re-evaluate based on new information, and most are abominably bad at it, but if you pay attention, you can often rely on that first impression.”
Elizabeth regarded him with fascination.
“I am a businessman. A bad bargain, or even a good one made with a dishonest or greedy man could ruin me.
I have made it my life's study to be able to make judgements, and I am rarely wrong. You are young and idealistic, I am old and pragmatic, yet we trust each other. We both came to the same conclusion. Is that not enough?”
Elizabeth smiled widely and released a breath she had unknowingly held. “More than enough. I thank you for your counsel. It is refreshing to receive good advice from people who are still alive and in the same room.”
The Wythes joined her laughter. Though they esteemed and trusted the young lady, they had no idea what that last phrase meant.