Chapter 10
After they arrived at the parsonage, Mr. Bennet asked Elizabeth to join him in the garden. It was newly dark and she slipped out behind her father and joined him on a stone bench near the far wall, well away from the house.
"Lizzy, I must speak to you.” He took her hand and looked at her face, shadowed in the evening light.
“Yes, Papa?” Elizabeth was nervous. What would he tell her? Would her fears be confirmed?
“I need to tell you something, but I must ask you not to react until I am finished, and you must not run off, but stay here and speak with me when I am through, for I have not the energy to chase you down.” He smiled at the last and she returned it.
“Very well, Papa. I am listening and I will not run away.”
“I spoke with Mr. Darcy this evening. He is an intelligent man, well regarded, respectable.”
“He is. And rude, proud, and thoughtless,” she added lightly. She looked to her father to join in her joke, but he was serious. “What is it, Papa?”
“Do you really find him thoughtless?” He also found Mr. Darcy proud, but perhaps not overly so, and while he could be rude, Mr. Bennet wondered if he could actually be very thoughtful. After all, he had remembered Elizabeth’s desire to see The Lake District.
Elizabeth thought on her father’s question for a moment, and remembered Mr. Darcy listening to her confession a few days ago, and how he had handed her his handkerchief and been kind while she was in distress.
“No, I suppose he is not,” she said slowly.
“And is he always rude? Has he never been polite or civil to you?”
Again she thought for a moment before answering her father. “No, he is not always rude, but when he is, it is quite memorable.”
They shared a smile and Mr. Bennet took her hand in his and looked at her seriously. “My dear Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy is in love with you.”
She looked at him for a moment and then laughed. “Papa! I don’t think Mr. Darcy would appreciate you making such distasteful jokes. Although it is very funny.” She laughed and looked at her father who was not laughing with her. “Papa?”
“My little Lizzy, this is not a joke.”
She stared at him. “Mr. Darcy? In love with me?”
He nodded.
“With me?”
He nodded again and squeezed her hand.
“But I am not tolerable enough to tempt him to dance!”
“He danced with you at Netherfield,” said Mr. Bennet.
She looked at him, her face confused and reflecting a dawning horror.
“He is intelligent and well read. He is respectable and not ridiculous. Capable of holding a decent conversation and I imagine he argues and debates intelligently. He is thoughtful, Lizzy, at least where you are concerned.”
She began to shake her head and lean away from her father, too afraid to speak the thoughts that were swirling through her mind faster than she could sort them.
“He is not an unattractive man,” Mr. Bennet’s expression showed his distaste for this particular topic, but he would not have his daughter believe him unfeeling or unaware of the difficulties a woman faced in her marriage and the intimacy that came with it.
“He does not smell of cabbage or sweat profusely,” he tried to tease.
Deciding he should be more practical, he added, “He is a very busy man, I doubt he would want to be entertained all day. He will have his own activities to keep him occupied.”
“Papa,” she whispered, on the verge of tears.
“My sweet Lizzy, he loves you, very dearly. He will take good care of you, and when I am gone, your mother and sisters.”
She cried in earnest now.
“Please, my darling girl, you will be all right. He will be good to you, I know it. I trust him. Please don’t cry, my dear.”
“But, but, it’s Mr. Darcy! He does not like me! How can he, how can we, I cannot! I simply cannot! Please do not ask it of me, Papa!”
Mr. Bennet was feeling nearly as distraught as his daughter at the sight of her tears. “Lizzy, you must listen to me.”
She sniffled and looked toward him.
“Mr. Darcy is an honest man.”
She interrupted him. “Honest! What of his behavior towards Mr. Wickham? And I strongly suspect he had something to do with Mr. Bingley never coming back to Netherfield.”
Mr. Bennet shook his head. “You are too much like me sometimes, Lizzy. Think! Use the cleverness you are so known for! Mr. Bingley is his own man. No matter what anyone tells him, he has the right to come and go as he pleases. If he was persuaded to stay away by Mr. Darcy, and we do not know that he was, is that truly the kind of man you wish your sister to marry? She who is not forceful herself? All their decisions would be made by others! And has not Jane seen Mr. Bingley again in town, several times? Has she not met other men, other suitors, perhaps more worthy than Mr. Bingley?”
She watched him with wide eyes and he shook his head. “Lizzy, you must not lay the problems of the world on Mr. Darcy’s doorstep. Jane has seen Mr. Bingley’s true character and it is now for her to decide what she will do. She is the one who will have to live with him, after all.”
“And would I not have to live with Mr. Darcy?” she asked sharply.
“Yes, but you see, Jane is in a hypothetical situation. Pretty and sweet as she is, she has not had a single proposal, while you are in possession of two. You must open your eyes to Mr. Darcy’s good qualities, Lizzy.
It is the only way you will be happy and respectable.
And he is a respectable man. I do not know the particulars of what happened with Mr. Wickham, but I do know that he is always at the gaming tables when they are available, and I also know that he was very quick to tell you his tale of woe, and very keen to avoid Mr. Darcy.
” He saw his daughter was about to protest and held up his hand.
“You have a clever mind, Lizzy. Tell me, why did he speak to you as he did? Why did he not come to the Netherfield ball when he said he would? And why, I might ask, is a man his age only beginning in the militia? Do not let your mind be carried away by your vanity, Elizabeth. He complimented you while Mr. Darcy insulted you; yes, I see that. And he is handsome and amiable and very charming. But do not lose your head over it! You do not know the grief from choosing for the wrong reasons, Elizabeth, and I pray you never do.”
“Is marrying for nothing but material gain not also a wrong reason?” she cried.
“You are determined to be against him! Are you truly so stubborn? It must be my fault for not having taught you better. Ask yourself this: would you be as inclined to believe everything Mr. Wickham said, after an acquaintance of days, if it came from Mr. Collins? Do not speak, just think on it.” He was silent and getting angry himself, and so let his daughter stew on what he had said.
Long used to obeying her father, Elizabeth did as he asked. She imagined Mr. Collins speaking to her so intimately on so short an acquaintance and felt nothing but revulsion and disbelief. Swallowing her pride, she spoke slowly.
“I may have been hasty in my judgment of the situation between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham. But Mr. Darcy has said nothing to refute Mr. Wickham’s claims,” she said.
“Have you asked him?”
She looked at him with surprise.
“Of course not, it would be improper,” he said, dripping with sarcasm. “Mr. Darcy is not one to bandy his personal business about the neighborhood. Neither am I, I might add.”
She looked at him worriedly for a moment before hanging her head. “You have given Mr. Darcy your consent?”
“And my blessing, yes. He did want to speak to you first, but he said he hasn’t had a chance.”
“Not had a chance! He has walked with me almost daily –” She stopped herself as realization dawned on her. “Was he courting me? All those times he walked me back to the parsonage, I thought it was just perverse fate,” she said quietly, confused wonder in her voice. “How could I have missed it?”
“We often do not see that which we do not wish to see,” he said.
Elizabeth laid her head on her father’s shoulder, exhaustion overcoming her. Disbelief coloring her voice, she asked, “Father, do you actually think I could be happy with Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes, I think you could. You are not built for low spirits. Your liveliness will brighten his disposition and his greater information and position in the world will feed your mind in ways you never imagined. Picture it, Lizzy, quiet evenings spent in front of the fire with a good book, the man beside you would be quiet and reading his own tome, not blathering on about insipid topics,” he chuckled while Elizabeth smiled weakly.
“Intelligent discourse, travel, elegant company. Mr. Darcy will make a good companion in time, I think. You may have to train him a bit, but if anyone can do it, it is you.”
Silent tears tracked down her cheeks as she realized her father was deadly serious and would not support her refusal. But still, she had to ask.
“What will happen if I refuse him?” She felt her father stiffen. “Will you throw me from Longbourn? Will I be forced to find employment or take refuge with whatever relatives will take me in? Will Mr. Darcy seek revenge for his humiliation?”
“I would never throw you out, my dearest daughter, and I do not believe Mr. Darcy is the kind to seek revenge on a lady for nothing but refusing his suit. However, he is a powerful man and I would not actively seek to anger him.”
“Do I have a choice?” she asked in a small voice.