Chapter 5 The Windmills of Her Mind
It took all of Elizabeth’s discipline, plus a few hours behind locked doors to get through Wednesday. Everywhere she went, someone had an opinion about her upcoming nuptials.
Mrs Bennet could hardly shut up about it and wanted to drag her daughter through the neighbourhood all day.
The only thing that saved her was the fact that in a stubbornness contest, she could easily best a mule and make a good showing against a stone.
Elizabeth eventually told her mother that if she was to be dragged through the neighbourhood like a prize heifer, she would say something truly mortifying just to get the miserable experience over with.
She would publicly say something bad enough to shame even Lydia.
Half an hour of shouted argument finally caused Mr Bennet to come down on the side of his daughter. Of course, he did so for his own comfort, as he would at least have some peace and quiet while most of his gaggle of wives and daughters were out visiting.
When Mrs Bennet left, Jane stayed behind and waylaid Elizabeth on the way to her room.
“Lizzy, may I speak with you?”
Elizabeth did not very much like the tone of the question, so she looked at Jane with some suspicion for the first time in her life and wondered if she was just becoming a cynical old crone in only a few days.
That led to her wondering how bad she would be after a few years of an unwanted marriage, but she did not wish to chase her mind down that rabbit hole.
She cautiously answered, “Go on.”
Jane took a deep breath. “You need to put away your childish things. These temper tantrums are doing nobody any good. I think Mr Darcy is not nearly as bad as you make him out to be, and if you would just let go of your prejudice, you might find yourself content.”
Elizabeth was not particularly surprised by the latter part of the remark, because Jane was a woman born to be abused by the first person who happened along with the inclination.
She always thought the best of everyone and had never really been tested in their small society.
So far in her life, Jane had been lucky.
Nothing had ever challenged her rosy view of the world, or at least nothing that Elizabeth had not protected her from.
Trying to keep her mind on track, Elizabeth replied, “Good, bad or indifferent, Jane, I do not wish to marry him.”
“Do you truly think it is your choice to make?”
Wondering what her formerly favourite but sinking fast sister was getting at, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“I mean that your recalcitrance is having a material impact on the rest of us. It was bad enough that you spent the last six weeks being rude to Mr Darcy. Now, when he is in your hands, you want to throw it all away. You make no sense.”
Elizabeth just stared open-mouthed, fuming, and finally asked, “You think I should accept him because it is convenient for the rest of you?”
“I mean, you brought your troubles on yourself. You could never meet the man without needling him. You should have either refrained from quarrelling during the dance or refrained from eloping to that corner. It was far from proper to accuse him about Mr Wickham. Even Lydia would not do such a thing! You dug your own hole, so you should quit complaining about it. That bruise you keep going on and on about was certainly not deliberate. If he wanted to hurt you, that is not how it would happen.”
Stunned, Elizabeth snapped, “Aha, so you are asserting when I helped you disengage from Mr Freeman, I was in error?”
Jane at least had the grace to look embarrassed. “That was different.”
“How?”
“He was a cruel and violent man in fact, not just in theory, all the time instead of under duress—but Mother would have forced me on him anyway.”
“And you know for a fact that Mr Darcy is not?”
“Mr Bingley would not be his friend if he were. You just do not like him because he made a few unfortunate remarks and what Mr Wickham said.”
Elizabeth chewed on that logic for a minute.
“So then, you are certain Mr Bingley is genuine, and not just a wolf in sheep’s clothing?
You are certain he was sincere in his regard for you, and not just a rich man fishing in the country streams for a few months; as many have done before he came, and many will do after he leaves? ”
“Yes, I am, and if you had not ruined it, I might be engaged to him by now.”
Elizabeth asked curiously, “So, you were ready to marry him. Did you love him?”
Jane looked sheepish. “Not really, but I liked him well enough. He is not a serious man, but he is kind, has a good income, is accustomed to being directed by women, and I should like to be mistress of an estate so close to the home I have always known.”
Elizabeth frowned at how closely Jane’s attitude mirrored her mothers and asked suspiciously, “And you think your outside chance with the man you were so subtle about that even Charlotte Lucas could not tell you were enamoured, is worth me spending my life with Mr Darcy?”
“As I said, he is not so bad.”
“Suppose I fix it right up! Rumours are easy to change, so long as we spread them right and someone gets married. How about if I substitute you for me at the wedding? You could be one of the richest women in England, and I doubt Mr Darcy would notice, or care if he did. He is only doing this for his family’s reputation, and he could salvage that by marrying any Bennet.
He could repair the gossip in London, and our neighbours would forget the whole thing in six months, so long as the family honour is restored with a ring.
Nobody outside of our family can distinguish one Bennet from another anyway.
Give it a fortnight, and everyone will believe it was you at the ball all along. It sounds like the perfect solution!”
Jane gasped at the idea, and Elizabeth was not surprised to see her tense up in fear. She was not surprised, but she was disappointed to see her favourite sister exposing the same ideas as Mary and her mother.
“Let me be certain I am not misrepresenting you, Jane. You think I should sacrifice for the family, but not you?”
Jane looked embarrassed but did not negate the assertion. “You underestimate yourself, Lizzy. You can tame the lion, but I cannot. Responsibility falls to the one who can bear the load.”
“And you would condemn me to this fate to save your own?”
“Not mine alone. You have four sisters if you recall correctly, and a mother who is likely to live two or three more decades. Are you willing to allow all of them to suffer just because you are too lazy to mould Mr Darcy into a worthy husband? After all, it was your actions that drove away Mr Bingley.”
Elizabeth sighed and let go of the very last of her childish preconceptions. “Jane, you did not see him. You did not see the anger and loathing in his eyes. You did not hear the half-hour of shouting between our father and that so-called gentleman.”
Jane was staring at the ground, so Elizabeth reached over and forced her to look up.
“Imagine it, Jane! Just try to imagine a marriage contract so bad that it makes our father shout for a half-hour. So bad the most indolent father in England feels the need to bestir himself to yell for a half-hour, but not quite bad enough to make my situation any better.”
Jane, feeling that her sister was taking on a much holier attitude than the situation called for, lost her temper for the first time anyone could remember.
“You think you are so clever, Lizzy. Had Mama not intervened, Mr Collins would have addressed you the morning after the ball. I heard Papa planned to approve the suit, whether you agreed or not. If you think exchanging Mr Darcy for Mr Collins is a bad trade, I have no idea how to reach you.”
Feeling exhausted by the entire ordeal, Elizabeth turned towards her door. Just before she entered, she spoke without turning around.
“We are done with this conversation, Jane. Never bring it up again!”
After resting for an hour, Elizabeth finally got anxious, jumped from her bed, and truly thought about what she was doing, and what her options were, if any.
She thought hard enough that she would not have been surprised to smell smoke.
She did not want to allow anger to drive every single action, though reining it in long enough to think rationally was a monumental task.
When her father went out to visit a tenant farm for a few hours, she even went through his books to see if they could offer any bits of wisdom.
All the sermons were worse than worthless, since they essentially took the concept ‘submit to the nearest authoritative male’ and reworded it a hundred times, without ever examining the underlying foundation to see that it was rotten to the core.
Fordyce was the worst, but the rest were not enough better to make any difference.
All thought of women as accessories to the business of men, and any of them would have told her to just shut up and listen to her elders.
Philosophy tracts seemed too abstract, too unrelated to the problem at hand, and often nonsensical. Still, she persevered, and it was late in the afternoon when she finally found the answer in the most unexpected place.
Elizabeth absolutely considered a forced marriage an evil of the darkest kind, and it suddenly occurred to her that it was almost as much of an evil for Mr Darcy as for her.
In some ways it was almost worse for him, because he was trading what would no doubt have been a beautiful, well dowered, highly accomplished wife, for a hoyden of considerable book knowledge but weak accomplishments, wild manners, and not a single connexion, who liked to walk alone.
He could have introduced an heiress or even daughter of a peer into the first circles to universal acclaim, but instead he would have to spend the first few years either defending his bad choice or avoiding society entirely.
His freedom to choose was curtailed, and his share of the world’s consequence adversely impacted by the marriage.
His children would lose stature based on what happened at Netherfield—presuming, of course, they could even get along well enough to have children, which was not guaranteed.
On the other hand, he had complete control over her future, so, the woman’s position in the affair was far-far worse.
If Mr Darcy found his future wife undesirable or hard to live with, he could put her aside, take a mistress, have an affair, treat her badly, and the world would not bat an eye.
If, on the other hand, she found her future husband undesirable, she had to smile, make the best of it, and try to protect any children they might have.
The marriage would be an evil—more so for her than him—but bad enough even for the groom.
She firmly established that the best she could hope for if the marriage happened was an awkward détente lasting the rest of her life, which would be good for neither party.
Yes, it might turn out that he was a good man, she had just caught him on a bad month, and he would revert to form.
That was something she could hope for if the unfortunate event came to fruition, but those were awfully weak legs to prop up her hopes and dreams. Her parents’ marriage being the best she could hope for was a sad situation indeed.
It was when she started thinking of the marriage like a disease, that she finally found the words that gave her either wisdom and guidance, or a selfish rationalisation for her actions.
She did not want to think about that too much, but the right words came from Hippocrates, who had been dead for well over two-thousand years: As to diseases, make a habit of two things—to help, or at least, to do no harm.
She could not make things right for herself, Mr Darcy, or her family.
The situation had gone too far, so some sacrifice was necessary.
The only question was who would do the sacrifice, and how big it would be.
The situation as it was, had all the burden on her and Mr Darcy (mostly her), while her family paid no price whatsoever, and in fact, would no doubt profit from the arrangement.
She and Mr Darcy would suffer harm so that the rest of her family would not suffer inconvenience and embarrassment.
To follow Hippocrates, she could arrange her affairs so that she did less total harm.
For certain, it would materially hurt most of the associated parties, such as her sisters, but the overall harm would be reduced, and she would not have to shoulder all of it herself.
Elizabeth wondered if she was being stubborn, stupid, selfish, or sensible, but in the end, settled for steadfast. With her ideas firmly in mind, she set about completing several preparations she had been making for weeks.