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“Well, if you insist upon bluntness, which I believe to be your preferred mode, then I shall lay out before you this: I have heard, from someone who claims acquaintance with you, that you are a harsh and unyielding man.”
He paused. “Ah,” he said flatly.
“That is your defence of yourself, sir? Ah?”
“What would you have me say? Naturally, I am harsh and unyielding when the circumstances demand I be.”
Mr Darcy, standing beside me, struck me anew as a powerful, consequential man. Having grown up with Papa, who was snide rather than assertive, and Sir William Lucas, who confused congeniality with manliness, I momentarily lost the thread of my argument.
Faced with this force beside me, I fell to wondering whether perhaps I was out of my depth, and I would have retreated into lighter, jesting observations, but Mr Darcy decided to coldly pursue my inquiry.
“Of what has George Wickham accused me, ma’am?”
“Of withholding a valuable living your father intended for him.”
He snorted. “That old saw again?”
“Is it true, Mr Darcy? Will you not exonerate yourself?”
“I shall not lower myself to address that man’s claims.” He spat the words between clenched teeth.
I gasped in frustration. “Then he will be believed! Indeed, half the neighbourhood is already very sympathetic to him.”
“And what do I care what this neighbourhood thinks of me?”
This, of all the things he had said to me, struck me as unforgivably harsh. “Forgive me, sir,” I said coldly. “I was mistaken in thinking that at least my opinion of you mattered.”
Oh, for two good ankles! I would have walked away from him if I could. I looked around, desperate for someone to rescue me and caught Charlotte’s eye. She came to me and, bless her, Mr Darcy moved a few steps away so she could take up his place beside me.
Darcy
I am not a conversationalist. I am not inclined to chatter amiably.
That said, however, I had never massacred a conversation in the shocking manner in which I had just affronted Elizabeth Bennet.
The task of reparation, of pulling together some semblance of conviviality between us, and of making an apology loomed before me.
Having been toadied all my life, however, I was woefully unpractised at grovelling.
For a full minute, I stood beside Miss Bennet like an imbecile while my body reacted as though I had been struck a hard blow.
As my wits began to thaw, I struggled for a strategy, and as though grasping at a straw, I decided to start by telling her about Wickham.
Yes, that, I decided with relief, would be how I would begin.
Of course, I would not mention Georgiana, but there was a great deal I could say.
I opened my mouth to begin anew, and would have, were it not for the abrupt arrival of Sir William Lucas’s eldest daughter to entertain Miss Bennet.
I moved away, as a gentleman should, and awaited my turn.
But I did not move too far because I was determined to have a chance to defend myself.
Eavesdropping is below me and I loathe it, but while lurking about by a sad-looking potted palm, I could not help but hear what was said.
“Did you enjoy your set, Charlotte?”
“Oh, well,” the lady sighed. “I was glad to be led out for the opening dance, Lizzy. John does not always remember that he has a sister who is not in the first tier of eligible girls.”
“He was, however, kind enough to think of my sister Mary who is often left with the matrons.”
Miss Lucas struck a resolute tone that prefaced a change of topic. “Lizzy, do you really have no ambitions with regard to Mr Collins?”
“My only ambition for my cousin is to be spared the mortification of refusing him, should he resolve to pay his addresses. Why do you ask?”
“I would like to put myself forward. If you will not have him, and you say you will not, I would like to make myself an agreeable alternative.”
After a heavy pause, Miss Elizabeth replied in disbelief, “Surely not, Charlotte.”
“Why not? You have objections to him that you make plain to anybody, but I have no objections whatsoever.”
“But think, Charlotte. What sort of life would you have? He has a strong inclination to dominate a woman with less power than he possesses, and yet he is thoroughly dominated by his patroness. I can think of no worse place to be situated! Below the salt to be sure. You would be little more than a drudge.”
Then it was Miss Lucas’s turn to pause. “You can think of no worse place, Eliza, because you are young yet. You are a very pretty girl with a lively air about you. In short, you have charm. You have prospects.“
“I have no such thing. I fully expect to sit on the shelf, for I shall never marry without affection, without respect. And who comes to Hertfordshire? No one!”
“You have made my point for me. I too expect to sit on the shelf, yet unlike you, I find the prospect unbearable. You will allow me to be unromantic if you are my friend and understand that there is a great deal I would suffer to be mistress of my own home.”
“Oh, Charlotte,” Miss Bennet said softly.
“Do not pity me, Lizzy. My eyes are open, and I know what I want. The only thing lacking is?—”
“If you want my blessing, of course you have it, but I shall not lie and tell you how happy you make me with such a compromise.”
They were silent for a moment and then Miss Lucas said, “I shall be happy if I am lucky enough to secure your cousin.”
Miss Elizabeth sounded slightly defeated when she eventually replied. “He will be lucky to get you. And if you are made mistress of Longbourn?—”
“You will be family, and I shall not turn my back on you.”
“I am not thinking of myself. Will you promise to take care of Mama? That is an enormous vow, I grant you, but if you will do it, then I shall be at peace with your choice.”
“And you? Your sisters?”
“Jane cannot go to waste. If anything, my uncle Gardiner will see her well settled with a good husband. My two youngest sisters are shaping up to be camp followers, and Mary will make someone a very tiresome governess.”
“You may joke all you like. But what of you?”
“I shall find a caravan of gypsies and tell fortunes over a glass globe.”
“I despair of you, friend.”
“I despair of myself. But would you be a dear and find my father? I wish to speak to him.”
As Miss Lucas left, I pushed myself away from the wall only to have to step back to make way for Miss Bennet. I was finding my flirt’s popularity quite tiresome and hoped for a reprieve from these eternal interruptions.
“Jane, dearest,” Miss Elizabeth said with obvious affection, “do not let Mama see you standing idle. Is there not one marriageable man in the room with whom you have not danced?”
“How is your ankle, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth Bennet did not care to be pitied. She ignored her sister’s question and launched a question of her own. “Who has secured you for the supper set, Jane?”
Miss Bennet paused. “Mr Bingley will take me in to supper.”
“Will he? Mama will be in alt.”
“Oh Lizzy, do not tease me,” Miss Bennet said in a low, pleading voice.
“But what is it? Surely you are pleased.” Another pause. “Never tell me you have let Mr Bingley crawl over your defences.”
“He has done so against my will.”
“Then he has shown himself to be determined to earn your affection, and I applaud his resolve.”
Jane Bennet’s voice wavered. “I am torn in two.”
“But why? If he loves you, and you are inclined towards him, then why should he not offer for you?”
“Please God that he does not, Lizzy, because to refuse him will be unspeakably painful.” She uttered this last on a stifled sob.
“You would refuse him?”
“I believe I must. He is everything good and amiable, a man perfectly suited to my temperament, and someone who has never discomposed me in any way. I could so easily love him. But his sisters are spiteful to Mama, and they cannot tolerate my own sisters. Could I be happy living with anyone who thinks ill of those dear to me?”
“Come, Jane. Surely you can see that those women will not always be living with their brother.”
“The Hursts seem to be content to live with him. From what I gather, they follow him everywhere. And Miss Bingley, though she is elegant and has a fortune, is already six and twenty. This does not indicate to me she is much courted.” Miss Bennet paused.
“Even were she to marry and go away, there will always be society between us, and she will never let me forget her disapproval of my relations in trade.”
“Though her own fortune comes from trade.”
“How I wish they had never come here,” Miss Bennet said sadly. “Oh, I must go. Mr Parnell is coming to lead me out.”
I looked out into the room and saw a homely man of middle years approaching. Behind him came Mr Bennet, and I knew my moment still had not come.
“Did you indeed summon me, child?”
“Papa, how would you like to finish your evening with a book while I sit on a stool and toast us some cheese by the hearth?”
“Never tell me I am to be released from gaol?”
“You are. Will you call for the carriage? Harry can come back again for Mama and the others. My ankle is uncomfortable, Papa, and I would like to go.”
Mr Bennet tapped a footman on the shoulder and then came and took his daughter away. And thus ended my flirtation. Greatly sobered after such a disappointing evening, I realised what I must do and on the following day, I did it.