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Page 35 of Beyond Pride, Past Prejudice

“And both of you are mostly mistaken,” Mr Bennet countered. “He may take pride in his ancestry and family, but I believe he could be amiable in any circumstance and within any circle, under one condition—that he finds the company agreeable.”

“But he did not like us, our neighbours, our family, Mama, Jane…”

“He is one of the rare few who truly do not like me,” Jane gasped as she settled onto the sofa while Mary gently took her hand.

“I cannot remember anyone not liking you before,” Mary said comfortingly.

“Well…he could be the first,” Elizabeth said with newfound courage. “Jane’s timidity and reserve did not serve her well. Mr Darcy assumed she had no affection for Mr Bingley, and we must remember that Charlotte also reproached her for it.”

“So there must be some truth in it, must there not?” Mr Bennet spoke in a gentle and compassionate tone as Jane’s tears began to fall.

“It is merely how I am,” Jane whispered, her voice tremulous.

“Yet you encouraged me to change. Perhaps it is time for all of us to change!” Mary spoke with a sudden vivacity that had sprung from the intimate discussion she valued so much.

“I did show him my feelings,” Jane said defensively, as if she had not heard her sister. “I am sure he understood them, or at least sensed them.”

“Yet it was insufficient, for his sisters, at some point, turned against you, and then there was Mr Darcy.”

“Did Mr Darcy have something to do with Mr Bingley’s departure?” asked Mary, shocked.

“Unfortunately, yes. Mr Darcy was Mr Bingley’s best friend, and he wanted him to find a lady who loved him. But Jane seemed indifferent, and—”

“Your mother talked too much, spending silly gossip all over Meryton.” Mr Bennet sighed with apparent regret.

“But we cannot blame her just because she is not present,” Jane said, her affection for Mrs Bennet evident.

“No,” Elizabeth replied firmly. “Not because she is absent but because she influenced you to make imprudent decisions.”

“Such as?” Jane asked.

“Such as riding in the rain when the carriage was at your disposal.”

“I did not protest. I was just as guilty as Mama in wanting to spend the night at Netherfield.”

“I regret to say that it was the most imprudent thing to do,” Elizabeth continued. “Not only did you become gravely ill, but your intentions behind that scheme were apparent to everyone. Mr Bingley’s sisters and Mr Darcy did not see your love but rather your desire to secure a wealthy husband.”

“Oh!” Jane exclaimed, distraught. “I never considered it in those terms. I was so honest, so deeply in love.”

“That is not how others perceived it, and then Mama cast the final blow by spreading rumours of an impending wedding throughout the neighbourhood.”

Jane gazed in despair, turning to her father, who nodded in agreement with Elizabeth’s words.

“But does that mean she can never speak to our neighbours again?” Jane asked, still determined to protect her mother.

“She must restrict herself to safe topics, not presenting her fancies as reality.”

“Oh!” Jane whispered, hiding her face in her hands while Mary comforted her.

“Jane, you must accept your and our family’s shortcomings. You will never change if you hide your feelings and allow your mother to make decisions for you,” Mr Bennet said.

“Mr Darcy advised his friend to leave, and he did so. It was cowardly, I say,” Elizabeth murmured, pained to tell Jane such things. Nevertheless, she hoped the shock would prompt her sister to reflect on her own errors and those of Mr Bingley, and would, eventually, help her move on.

“After all, he is a grown man who should be capable of making his own decisions regarding his choices and commitments.”

“Elizabeth is right again. But let us not throw out such unequivocal statements, my dear,” Mr Bennet said, casting a glance at Elizabeth, as he suspected the story was not quite so straightforward, and his daughter’s unrelenting sadness since her return held many unspoken truths.

“We do not hate anybody. Mr Darcy had every right to offer his friend his counsel. It is our fault that his opinion of our family was so unfavourable.”

“You mean erroneous!” Elizabeth said.

“He did me great harm,” Jane murmured.

“I should say unfavourable andlargely erroneous—if we are to be honest with ourselves. Now, Elizabeth,” Mr Bennet said gently, “tell us everything. From this moment, the story is yours and Mr Darcy’s alone. Let the rest be set aside. He proposed, did he not?”

“He did,” Elizabeth replied. “And he was painfully forthright. He admitted quite openly that he had wrestled with himself before deciding to make the offer.”

“A detestable man!” Jane cried, unable to restrain her animosity for the gentleman she had considered most suited to her sister only a few days ago.

“A detestable man, you say? Well, that ‘detestable’ man proposed to your sister despite some significant doubts, while your extraordinary suitor fled without a word when his family urged him to do so.”

“Papa!” Elizabeth exclaimed, astonished by her father’s brusque remark.

“No, my dear. Jane must confront the truth in all its enormity for once. The truth about our family, her bearing and actions, the man she loves, and the man you love!”

“I did not say I loved him.”

“You did, Lizzy,” Mary protested, but her voice was only a murmur.

“It was unnecessary, my dear. Your feelings are evident in every gesture you make,” her father said gently.

“It is laughable. Like a second-rate play. I fell in love only after I rejected his proposal,” Elizabeth admitted in a rueful voice.

“That does not mean you did not have feelings for him before.”

“No, Papa, you are wrong. I would have handled the situation differently if I had trulyhad feelings for him before he proposed. On that fateful day, I was simply shocked and angered by his stupid inner struggles and, more significantly, by his role in Mr Bingley’s departure.”

“Give me but a moment, Lizzy,” Mr Bennet said, turning to Jane, who was still weeping softly. “Dry your eyes, my dear. I have a question of some import to ask you.”

Jane obeyed immediately, dabbing her tears away as always, without protest.

“Had the situation been reversed—if Mr Bingley had advised Mr Darcy against courting Elizabeth—would you have refused Mr Bingley’s proposal?”

“No!” Jane replied at once, without a moment’s hesitation, the flush rising to her cheeks only afterwards. Yet for Elizabeth, it came as neither a surprise nor a source of sorrow.

“Do not be ashamed of it!” Mr Bennet exclaimed, more animated than usual. “That is the right answer—not the one your sister gave.”

“You have not resolved anything, Lizzy,” he continued in an affectionate tone. “You remain unmarried, and that man’s unfavourable impression of us endures. Now, Jane, what would you have told Mr Bingley immediately after agreeing?”

And once again, the timid yet wise young lady responded promptly, “That I would marry him, but he must first acquaint himself with Lizzy and see what a wonderful person she is and seek forgiveness for his mistake.”

“You are right!” Elizabeth said and began to pace the room.

For once, Mr Bennet did not protest; she was too upset.

“That is what I would say today to Mr Darcy. But even though I did not accept him, two weeks after that disastrous proposal, I tried, in my own way, to change his opinion of us. It was the least I could do.”

“How?” asked Mary impatiently, but no one answered her.

In that silence, Mr Bennet observed Elizabeth for a long time.

Seeing Jane suffer had been torturous because, in the same way as she could spread love, she could also spread her pain to everybody around her.

Elizabeth was stoic in her sadness. She behaved as she always did.

But that did not mean she suffered any less.

“I must speak to Elizabeth,” Mr Bennet said.

“No!” Mary cried, her voice trembling with uncharacteristic passion. “Please, Papa, let us stay and hear what you have to say. It means so much to me. To be here with you today has mattered more than any conversation I have ever had!”

“Of course you may stay!” Elizabeth exclaimed, smiling, yet her face did not reflect any happiness.

Mr Bennet nodded, genuinely astonished by his daughters. He saw them suddenly as grown ladies, filling his heart with joy, pride, and gratitude for the exceptional people they had become and for the relationship they shared with him—all three of them.