Chapter 7 Speaking to Mr. Bennet
CHAPTER SEVEN
SPEAKING TO MR. BENNET
The two spoke only a little the rest of the way to Longbourn. They began walking without thought, but before long, Darcy recalled that he had ridden his horse, and they doubled back to retrieve him.
Along the way, they spoke of why Elizabeth did not ride, and she admitted that she had never learnt. Darcy considered offering to teach her, but chose to wait, not wishing to push her too much when she had only recently accepted his courtship.
They reached Longbourn sooner than Elizabeth might have wished, and she was relieved to find the house quiet upon entering.
Without hesitation, she led Darcy to her father’s study and made the introductions.
Though the gentlemen had met before, it had been little more than polite greetings, and she was determined that her altered opinion of Mr Darcy should be plain in this second introduction.
Upon seeing who entered his room with his second daughter, Mr Bennet did not bother to rise from his chair, feeling as though the man deserved no such civility from him after speaking so rudely of his daughter at the assembly.
He lowered his newspaper long enough to raise an eyebrow at his daughter in a silent question.
Elizabeth caught the look at once and offered a small, reassuring glance that promised a forthcoming explanation.
Only then did he give Darcy a cool nod and return to his reading.
Elizabeth, unwilling to retreat, crossed the room with deliberate composure and seated herself before his desk. Darcy hesitated, but her words as they walked towards the house discussing their plan—It is best we face Papa together—lingered in his mind, and so he too sat at her side.
The silence stretched. The steady tick of the mantel clock punctuated only by the rustle of newsprint as Mr Bennet turned a page.
Neither Elizabeth nor Darcy spoke, and the pause grew long enough to make even Elizabeth’s composure begin to falter.
She thought she understood him, but the longer the silence continued, the more she wondered at his purpose.
However, before she could speak, her father set the paper aside with deliberate care, smoothing its edges as though preparing himself for whatever explanation might follow.
His eyes glinted with wry amusement as they travelled between his daughter and her companion, taking in their flushed cheeks and early arrival with an interest he made no attempt to disguise.
“It is a trifle early for a social call,” he remarked at last, his tone perfectly dry—as though he found the situation more entertaining than alarming, but was still reserving his judgement.
His expression softened when it settled on Elizabeth, a brief, reassuring glance that told her he was not displeased with her, whatever else he might think of the circumstances.
Then his look shifted, becoming markedly cooler as he turned it upon her companion.
“I can scarcely imagine you ventured here at dawn for idle conversation, Mr Darcy,” he continued, the mildness of his voice doing nothing to hide the pointed nature of the inquiry.
“I am curious—how came you to be escorting my Lizzy at such an hour? For, as I recollect, the two of you had very little in common not long ago. Yet here you are, in my home twice within the last four-and-twenty hours, if my memory serves.”
He leant back slightly, one eyebrow lifting in a way that conveyed both paternal vigilance and unmistakable scepticism. “It seems quite the transformation from the man who found her merely tolerable.”
Darcy straightened, resisting the urge to adjust his cravat. “Sir, I have come to request your permission to court Miss Elizabeth.” He spoke clearly and boldly, holding Mr Bennet’s gaze without flinching.
Mr Bennet studied him for a moment, eyebrows climbing in silent assessment, then shifted his gaze to Elizabeth, looking for the answer there.
Not finding what he expected, he resorted to his usual wry wit.
“Is this in jest, my Lizzy? Do you mean to show up Jane by bringing home a much richer suitor and become your mother’s favourite?
For I cannot imagine that he has improved in civility since that first meeting. ”
Elizabeth met her father’s look without flinching, and she even scowled a little at his words, making no attempt to hide her displeasure.
“Not at all, Papa. That is why I asked Mr Darcy to permit me to remain while the two of you spoke. He and I talked at length at Netherfield while Jane was ill; he sought my consent to a courtship, and I granted it. He is perfectly serious in his request.”
Mr Bennet leant back, fingertips steepled, the corners of his mouth twitching as though suppressing a smile. His keen gaze returned to Darcy, measuring whether the younger man would squirm beneath the scrutiny.
Darcy did not squirm, but held Mr Bennet’s gaze steadily, not wavering for a moment.
“Why should I allow you to court my Lizzy? Only a month ago you declared her tolerable and insisted that she was not worth your notice.” Mr Bennet said wryly.
“Over the last month, I have heard nearly as much about your disagreeableness as I have about Mr Bingley’s apparent intention to marry my Jane.
So tell me why it is that you are in my study requesting a courtship with the daughter you refused to dance with while Mr Bingley has yet to darken my doorstep? ”
Elizabeth closed her eyes in mortification.
“Papa—” she began, only to falter as Darcy reached for her hand.
His fingers closed around hers in a swift but deliberate squeeze, warm and steady, before he released her and drew back into a more proper composure.
The touch was fleeting, yet it spoke volumes—comfort, loyalty, and a tenderness she felt linger even after his hand was gone.
“I was a fool, sir,” he admitted. “I confess I did not recall making that comment, but I have apologised to Miss Elizabeth, and she has granted her forgiveness. While I cannot speak for my friend, I know what I desire, and that is to court Miss Elizabeth until she agrees to marry me.”
“Lizzy will not do well in an unequal alliance,” Mr Bennet declared. “She is not yours to trifle with, and I will not permit you to cause her harm.”
Darcy’s eyes flashed at the insinuation, but his countenance betrayed nothing of it, his voice remaining deliberately calm as he replied.
“I would never trifle with her—or with any lady, sir. To suggest otherwise is unjust to both her and to me. I know my own mind, and it is determinedly fixed upon your daughter. For years I have sought a wife who might stand beside me as a true partner in the management of Pemberley, and in Miss Elizabeth I believe I have found such a woman. She possesses intelligence, discernment, and strength of character—qualities I hold in higher esteem than wealth or consequence. I respect her profoundly, and I am convinced she would not only make an excellent mistress of Pemberley but also bring the gentleness and steadiness my sister so greatly requires.”
“You warn me of the harm I might do to her. I assure you, my only wish is to cherish and protect her, as she deserves.”
He paused, his expression softening before he continued.
“That said, this is but the beginning—a courtship, nothing more. My aim is to give Miss Elizabeth the time she requires to know me better and to allow her the freedom to determine whether life at my side is what she wants. I would never compel her into a future she did not freely choose.”
Mr Bennet nodded at this and considered the younger man’s words. “What do you think about this, Lizzy?”
“I am pleased by his request, Papa,” Elizabeth said as evenly as she could manage. Hearing Darcy’s defence had revealed more of his heart than she had expected, and she could not deny that it warmed her—drawing her closer to loving him than she had believed possible.
She drew herself up as she stated her terms. “But I gave my consent on one condition: Mama must not be told. You know as well as I that she would trumpet the news through every corner of Meryton before the day was out. A courtship is not a promise of marriage, yet she would speak of it as though the banns were already called. What she says of Jane and Mr Bingley is mortifying enough, and they are not even formally attached. I will not have her create a situation in which Mr Darcy and I are thought to be honour-bound before we ourselves have determined whether this is truly what we desire.”
Reluctantly, Mr Bennet agreed. “I take your meaning, my dear, and I shall speak to your mother about thrusting her daughters at every passing suitor. I cannot promise success, for you know she seldom hears anything that does not suit her own fancy.”
Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, a small smile playing at her lips since he had said something similar about his aunt, Lady Catherine. But before she could reply, Mr Bennet spoke again.
“My distant cousin, the one who will eventually inherit this estate, is due to arrive later this afternoon.” Mr Bennet removed his spectacles, polished the lenses, and put them back on, looking carefully at his guests.
He continued, “I have not yet informed your mother, but I intend to mention it over breakfast. In his letter, he referred to my daughters several times and spoke of offering an olive branch. I do believe he means to marry one of you.”