Chapter 1.11 #5
“If you are not mistaken, I must have been in error, which I shall not even attempt to deny with the superior information that I have gathered in the meantime. But a month ago, the serenity of your sister’s countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction that her heart was not likely to be easily touched.
I had also noticed a great insistence that this marriage shall take place, coming especially from your mother and shared by all your neighbours and friends.
Consequently, I found my young friend in danger of entering into an unequal marriage, into a family who—please forgive me for paining you, but that was my opinion at the time—was beneath him, bonding his life to a woman he admired and fancied to be in love with and who only accepted him to please her family and to secure their future.
It was my genuine conviction that such a marriage would ruin his life.
Everything that passed that evening at the ball confirmed my opinion and urged me to save my friend from what I deemed to be a most unhappy connection.
I briefly spoke to his sisters during the ball, and our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered, and, alike sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved that I should go with him the next day and they would follow us shortly. ”
“It is strange to hear you speaking of your ‘coincidence of feeling’ with Mr Bingley’s sisters,” Elizabeth interrupted him sharply. He did not reply to her comment but continued.
“We accordingly went—the only exception being the delay due to your accident. His sisters joined him the next day, and as soon as they arrived home, they pointed out to Bingley the certain evils of entering into an alliance with your sister and bringing as the strongest reasoning my opinion. He came to me and inquired what I thought of the situation and especially of your sister’s feelings.
I shall mention that some of the things I held against the union had diminished after the short time I spent at Longbourn in your father’s company.
I found that Mr Bennet was a gentleman who put his daughters’ happiness beyond any advantageous marriage and would never force any of you into an alliance against your will.
Therefore, I was unable to advise my friend against your family—except for connections in society and the lack of decorum of your mother and younger sisters. ”
There was another glance and a short pause before he spoke further.
“I again apologise for offending you, but I wish to speak honestly. My opinion of your sister’s feelings for him and my suspicion that she was willing to marry him for mercenary reasons did not vanish, and I presented them to Bingley.
After that night, I barely saw him at all.
He avoided my company and left London for another friend’s estate.
His change of spirits was obvious, and it made me believe that I might have been wrong in my judgement that it was a mere infatuation.
I planned to speak to him again, but all the events that ended with our marriage, as well as his departure, put a barrier to my resolution.
I am willing to condemn the reasons that governed me to interfere and to make amends.
And I hope you believe me that, if I have wounded your sister’s feelings and yours, I deeply regret it. ”
They were facing each other, their countenances severe, their faces shadowed by distress.
“And I must apologise for my ungentlemanly manner in handling our earlier conversation and for the preposterous things I said. I know they cannot be forgotten or forgiven, either by you or by myself.”
“I must apologise, too. My manners were hardly what they should have been. And I do believe you. I cannot imagine your hurting Jane or Mr Bingley on purpose, but you did, I am afraid. That cannot be easily forgotten or forgiven.”
She wondered whether she should speak further. She heard her voice, harsh and distant, but she could not change that; it mirrored her feelings. It was time for the truth.
“Miss Bingley implied to Jane that Mr Bingley is expected to enter into an engagement with Georgiana. She implied that it was an event already arranged and soon to happen.”
He looked at her in disbelief. “Surely, you are joking…”
“I am not, but now I know that to be another lie from Miss Bingley.”
“Although I would be content were she someday to bestow her affection on someone as worthy as Bingley, such an arrangement never crossed my mind,” he said, troubled.
“Mr Bingley is a worthy gentleman, but that is more than I can say about his determination.”
“Please do not blame Bingley. The fault is entirely mine. I thank you for listening to me. I shall leave you to rest now. Dinner must be ready. Molly will bring you something to eat.”
She stared at the fire a moment as a battle raged between Lizzy Bennet and Elizabeth Darcy.
The former wished to leave the house and wander around the park in the snow, alone with her dog and her thoughts and angry with all those who hurt her sister.
The latter straightened her back and replied decidedly.
“That will not be necessary. I shall be ready and join you for dinner shortly.”
His face lit slightly. “I am glad to hear it. We will be happy to have your company.”
When Darcy left the room, Elizabeth felt a heavy burden lift from her chest and shoulders; she could breathe again. She knew she made the right—no, the proper—decision.
He had come to apologise, and they spoke in a civil manner.
He told her the details of his involvement, even those that embarrassed him.
He admitted his fault and his errors and declared he was ready to make amends.
She could not forgive him, nor could she ignore this new insight in her attempt to understand his true character.
However, the fact that such a proud man saw his wrongs and came to apologise immediately was solid proof that he was neither selfish nor insensitive.
Besides that, she clearly remembered that even Charlotte—who had known Jane for a lifetime—suggested she should show her feelings more openly. If Charlotte had doubts about Jane’s feelings for Mr Bingley, how could a stranger see beyond Jane’s serenity?
In such cases, the man should not have the presumption to interfere, she replied to herself, growing angry again. Surely, he can resist giving his opinion just once in his life.
Elizabeth had little time to think further on what occurred. That was a task for later. For the time being, she was expected downstairs, and she hurried to join the others.
Dinner proceeded more solemnly than on the previous evenings.
Elizabeth’s attention turned from her husband to her sister-in-law.
Once her anger and distress about Jane diminished, the conversation with Georgiana increasingly occupied her mind.
Elizabeth also recollected her husband’s anger when he scolded her not to speak of “things about which you do not know”—a remark that surely referred to Mr Wickham.
She remembered that Wickham described Miss Darcy as a proud and unpleasant sort of girl, and he let her believe that there were no recent connections between them. And yet, Georgiana specifically mentioned that she had seen him a few months ago and she was worried about his well-being.
During their brief talk, Elizabeth was first tempted to believe that Miss Darcy had tender feelings for Mr Wickham and her brother strongly opposed them. But not a single word, gesture, or sign from Mr Wickham suggested that he held Miss Darcy in special regard—quite the contrary.
Elizabeth was inclined to accuse her husband of being unfair to Mr Wickham, and she was certain their mutual dislike was due to disagreements and perhaps faults on Mr Wickham’s part that Mr Darcy had treated more severely than he should.
After all, he did say that he might be called resentful and his good opinion, once lost, was lost forever.
As her uncle Gardiner once said, when two men fight, the truth is never on one side.