Page 48 of Beyond Pride, Past Prejudice

“Would you like to talk to me?” Mr Bennet asked Elizabeth.

Elizabeth nodded without a word, but then she smiled, finally in need of his advice, which she had avoided since her return from Bath.

They were in the library, her father’s favourite place, where he spent almost all mornings and most of the afternoons.

She looked around the room she so dearly loved, her gaze filled with pleasure.

It was there she had spent the most cherished moments of her childhood and adolescence, listening each day to her father’s lessons, engaging in spirited discussions with him—often in disagreement—or simply reading together in comfortable silence.

With her eyes, she caressed the maps, worn in places from so much use, and the books, passed down through generations, from which they had learnt history, geography, and mathematics.

Her father had taken great delight in testing them with problems he himself had once solved at Oxford, though he had studied philosophy and classical studies.

“Yes, I am ready to speak to you. You once advised me to fight for my love—”

“More or less!” Mr Bennet replied, his usual smile tinged with affection yet retaining a hint of sarcasm. “I do not remember speaking about fights and wars, but yes, I think you should try to convince Mr Darcy that you may have a future together.”

But Elizabeth did not seem to be attentive to her father’s words, instead she asked, “Why is it that men possess all the privileges in this world, and nothing can tarnish their reputation, while women are forever ostracised for the slightest indiscretion?”

“It is a valid question, my dear, that lacks a logical answer, unfortunately. These irrational and unjust rules reveal the inequities of our society. If your question pertains to whether you have the right to challenge the rules that men routinely flout, my answer is an emphatic yes, as long as it does not harm you. Disregard the version of morality that men have constructed solely for their benefit. Do as you please but be cautious not to hurt yourself or your reputation.”

“So, you believe I should go to Derbyshire?” Elizabeth asked, looking into her father’s eyes.

“You like travelling and encountering the unknown,” Mr Bennet answered ambiguously.

“It is not about travelling this time,” Elizabeth replied, determined to speak frankly and not in broken sentences or riddles.

“I know, my dear. It is about encountering the unknown.”

“Even if there is nothing at the end of this journey for me?”

“By nothing you mean returning unmarried.”

“Yes, yes,” she said and blushed. So many times she had imagined herself in love but still in possession of her ‘strengths’, a notion that was no longer feasible. She behaved in love like any other lady.

“You are strong,” her father said as if he could read her mind and wanted to reassure her. “I am not afraid that you will break if at the end of the road is disappointment or pain.”

“Then why should I go?”

“Regret is much more destructive than pain,” he said.

“Unfortunately, you do not know the whole truth, and I wonder whether you would agree if you knew.”

“For me, it is enough that Mrs Gardiner is making the trip with you. Her presence assures me that nothing dishonest or shameful will happen to you.”

Elizabeth nodded, planted a kiss on her father’s forehead, and left the library.

On the morning of her departure with the Gardiners, Mr Bennet escorted her to the carriage. Amidst the noise of her family bidding her farewell, he whispered, “Promise me just one thing. If Mr Darcy asks for your hand, simply say yes, and contemplate your decision after marriage.”

Elizabeth remained silent. Dissatisfied with her response, Mr Bennet compelled her to look into his eyes and fervently stated, “Promise me, Elizabeth Bennet!”

And she replied, “I promise, Father!” her solemn commitment devoid of any hint of mirth.