P&P Chapter 35 ~ #3
She sighed sadly. “I believe you! I am ashamed to say I took Mr Wickham at his word, apparently only because you wounded my vanity, and he flattered it. I feel so very stupid. What a stroke would this be for poor Jane! She would willingly have gone through the world without believing so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind, as was here collected in one individual. Now I must work out how much of my disapprobation of you was directly fed by Mr Wickham’s lies, and how much you earned.
I fear the result will not earn me any praise for my supposed discernment. ”
He snorted. “It is not as if I can claim any cause to boast. I thought you were expecting my addresses. I fear I possess a monopoly on arrogance and stupidity. My father went to his grave believing in Wickham’s goodness, so you are in good company.”
She wanted to contradict him, but since he was not precisely wrong, it seemed disingenuous.
Instead, she said, “You have two sentences left, sir,” thus closing the book on George Wickham. If they managed to remain at least friends, she imagined there would be time to deal definitively with the cretin later. She must do something about him to protect her sillier sisters.
Darcy heaved a great sigh and started a sentence he did not expect to go quite so well.
“I observed your eldest sister most carefully at the Netherfield ball, once Sir William’s assertions and your mother’s endless boasting made me aware of a general expectation of a marriage; but the serenity of her countenance, and the way she looked at my friend with no more nor less approbation than anyone else, convinced me that her heart was not easily touched; which would be very bad for my kind-hearted friend, who deserves a match of equal affections, and who is not in a very good position to deal with that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly betrayed by your mother, by your three younger sisters, and occasionally even by your father. ”
Elizabeth jumped from the bench and stomped around the small poorly tended pond in the centre of the glade, burning with rage.
However, finding herself on the other side of the pond reaching for a rock, unable to determine if she wished to burn off her frustration by making a great splash or throwing it at Mr Darcy’s head—she paused and looked at the gentleman.
Her ire was softened by the man’s countenance.
He looked as if he was watching his life end before his eyes, and she realised she had been frightfully unfair asking him to summarise in one sentence what she could easily discuss for hours.
Her family mortified her! She remembered thinking at the ball that, ‘had her family made an agreement to expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit or finer success.’
She had twenty years to learn to deal with her family, while Mr Darcy had weeks.
If she were truly honest, she would have to sheepishly admit that she would not willingly marry into her family either.
That realisation put her into a complete state of shock.
Mr Darcy had correctly identified her family as the worst behaved family of her acquaintance, yet he had volunteered to join it.
How much more mortifying for a Mr Darcy than a Mr Bingley to join such a family, and yet he proposed marriage.
She quite surprised herself by running back around the pond, until she stood in front of him, breathing heavily.
“We will discuss Jane and Mr Bingley at another time, but, for the moment,” she paused in embarrassment, as if unsure of herself, but gathered her courage and continued, “let us just accept that you are partially right, and leave that sentence as-is. I imagine the longer description in your letter might have softened the blow?”
He looked rather uncomfortable, but his basic honesty forced him to shake his head.
“Probably not. I started the letter with a feeling of bitterness, and I fear it would have been obvious,” he drew a shuddering breath before continuing, “but, as you say, we can discuss it another time. If your sister does esteem Bingley more than I believed, perhaps the problem can be resolved in both their favours with a few words spoken in the right place and time.”
She deliberately sat back down on the bench she had abandoned a few minutes earlier, several inches closer to the gentleman.
She gently said, “One more sentence.”
The gentleman noticed her new position, primarily because he was always acutely aware of her. Perhaps he was past the first obstacle. All he needed was one more sentence, and he had the ideal candidate. It did not even require refinement. It was perfect, exactly as written.
“I will only add, God bless you.”
The look of wonder on her face was everything he had ever dreamed. It taught him hope, as he had scarcely ever allowed himself to hope before, and his answering smile conveyed his own sentiments.
With a Jane-like smile, Elizabeth asked, “Even in your anger, that was what you thought to be the last words you would ever say to me?”
She was looking at him in wonder from a foot away, so feeling very bold, he halved the distance between their lips. He got close enough to show intent and allow the lady to show her own desires by closing the gap of her own volition, yet far enough to allow easy escape, should that be her choice.
He gave her a gentle smile.
“Certainly not! You cannot seriously believe I would give up at the first obstacle.”