Asking for Permission
By Winter's Fallen Angel
Summary: Vignette from Pride and Prejudice. Based on "In the evening, soon after Mr Bennet withdrew to the library, she saw Mr Darcy rise also and follow him …" This is one of the scenarios that I've thought would happen.
Author's Note: I've changed this from the original one (posted on 12/07/07); nothing major, no plot changes.
Disclaimer: Any characters, plot, phrases that you recognise from the original work are obviously not mine.
Mr Bennet sat in his library, enjoying the book he was currently reading, and a small amount of brandy. This, for many years now, had been his habit, and was not going to change it any time soon. Usually, once he withdrew to the library, no one would come looking for him, except his Lizzy. It was therefore a great surprise when a sharp, decided knock came from the other side of the door, nothing like Lizzy's gentler one. Taking a short break from reading, he put down the book and set aside the brandy, and called out, 'Yes? Come in.'
Something must have gone wrong, for there, closing the door, was Mr Darcy. Not being in his presence for any long amount of time, Mr Bennet did not hate Mr Darcy as much as he thought his second eldest daughter did. Yes, it could be safely said that Mr Bennet did not see Mr Darcy as the most pleasant company, but on occasions he saw a wittier, knowledgeable man, when not in the company of a certain Miss Caroline Bingley, his wife and younger daughters.
'Mr Darcy! I did not expect to see you here. Are the ladies a little too much? I am sure I have heard enough of lace to last me a life time! And to think that I still have three more daughters!' At this, he chucked a little, and looked to Mr Darcy. 'Oh, dear me, I've seemed to have forgotten my manners. Care for a brandy, Mr Darcy?'
'No, sir, I do not think that I will have any brandy tonight. However, I do come with a request.'
'A request, Mr Darcy? Did I hear correctly? That is most strange, sir. But, I will do my best to help you. What is it that you need?'
'I need your permission, sir…' But before he could continue, Mr Bennet interrupted with, 'You, sir, a man of reportedly £10,000 a year, need this old man's permission? What in heaven's name would you need my permission for?' Maybe there was something wrong with Mr Darcy, Mr Bennet thought. Then a thought of what he could grant permission came to mind, but he quickly dismissed the idea. It was impossible.
Mr Darcy was by now very nervous, and Mr Bennet observed him twisting his signet ring. 'If you would let me continue, sir,' he looked up and Mr Bennet felt some pity on him, and nodded.
Feeling on edge, and not particularly calm, Mr Darcy proceeded to blurt out, 'I would like your permission to marry your daughter, Miss Elizabeth.' There. He had said it, and all he could do was watch the amazed expression on his fiancée's father's face, hoping that his request would have a positive answer.
Mr Darcy wanted to marry his Elizabeth? That was simply impossible—not that he didn't think of it before—yet here was the £10,000 man himself, asking for permission to marry his most precious daughter. It would not be sensible to refuse such an offer: who knew what Mr Darcy would do if he refused, but still! Mr Darcy had not shown any distinct regard towards his daughter, and Lizzy herself had told him of what a horrible man he was. Could he let his dearest Lizzy into such a marriage? One where she did not esteem her husband? Feeling Mr Darcy's stare, he felt that he needed to give an answer.
'Well, I do not suppose that I cannot say "no". Yes, Mr Darcy, you have my permission to marry Elizabeth.' Relief was clear on the younger man's face. 'But before I give my blessing, may I ask why, exactly, do you wish to marry Lizzy? You know that I cannot offer more than £1,000, and that is after her mother's death.'
The mask that Mr Darcy was always wearing vanished, and Mr Bennet saw who he really was: a young man, with far too many responsibilities, and, surprisingly enough, warmth that could only be said to be love. A softer, almost wistful tone replaced his usual hard, decisive voice, and said, 'I…love your daughter, sir. Yes, I do realise that she has no real fortune, but I am willing to settle £30,000 on her, which is equal to my sister Georgiana's inheritance. She has provided me with something that has been missing for a long time, something that no amount of money could buy. Miss Elizabeth makes me happy, sir, and I cannot say how much that means to me.'
'So I assume that happiness is a rare thing, Mr Darcy? Does not anything or anyone else give you happiness too? Do you not take any pleasure in reading, as I have been often told?' His mind was still trying to work, trying to find a way out before his Elizabeth found out what he had done.
'You mistake me, sir. I do take pleasure in reading, and other activities. My sister, Georgiana, gives me happiness too, but of a different kind. Miss Elizabeth is someone I can talk to, and I have found out that her happiness… is my happiness,' said Mr Darcy, referring to Lydia's elopement with Wickham. Not used to talking of his inner, most private feelings, he gathered up all his courage to say, 'I am a man of means and money. There are few things that I did want in my childhood, and I can buy almost anything. Your daughter showed me what I was lacking in my life. She also showed me that she would not marry just for money and a secure future—which, when living amongst the Ton, is refreshing. There is no other woman like Miss Elizabeth: she is, truly, a priceless jewel.'
All the time that Mr Darcy was talking, Mr Bennet was discreetly watching his every facial expression. 'So Mr Darcy loves my Elizabeth?' he thought. 'Question is does she love him back? After all that she's said of him?' Love really was a strong word—after all; he fell in love with his wife's looks some odd three-and-twenty years ago. Where had that gotten him? He could not find fault with the man's preference in a wife; any man who wanted his Lizzy to be their wife was a smart man. For the first time in their short acquaintance, the younger man's face betrayed his every feeling, and if love was too strong a word, then desire and admiration was not.
Not wanting to face Mr Bennet, Mr Darcy started pacing. 'I know that this must come as a surprise to you—but I can assure you that my feelings have not changed for many months now. We first met at Rosings, my Aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh's estate, and that was an accidental meeting. There I learnt some things about myself…' Here Mr Darcy trailed off a bit, before accumulating his thoughts. 'I realised then what made a true gentleman, and I believe that I have changed.' Here, Mr Bennet raised his eyebrows, but stayed quiet.
'Then came the summer – I met her again, but this time it was in my home, Pemberley. I saw the change in her attitude to me; by then, I knew that she had fallen in love with me too.' Mr Bennet's eyebrows went higher, but said nothing. The man seemed convinced that Elizabeth loved him. 'I had decided to propose to her again, but…an unfortunate event occurred, and I could not. So when Bingley came down to Netherfield, I joined him, in hopes of having a chance at proposing, and here I am now.
'I do not know what will convince you that I love your daughter, but I do. And that is not ever going to change.' He stopped pacing, and looked Mr Bennet in the eye, hoping, praying, and willing him that he would see how much Elizabeth meant to him. 'I know how this must feel for you, sir. Georgiana is more than ten years my junior, and sometimes feels like a daughter to me. I do not know if I could let her go. But, if you think about it positively, you would be gaining a son, and also two very fine libraries, at Darcy House in Town and Pemberley. Then there is also my liquor collection that I inherited from as far back as my great-great-grandfather.'
Mr Bennet allowed a hearty chuckle to escape. 'Well, son, I like your way of thinking. You have my permission, and my blessing. But can I first have a talk with Elizabeth?' He liked what he saw of the new Mr Darcy, but it was time for Elizabeth to tell him her feelings.
Mr Bennet looked at Mr Darcy, and saw no sense of dread as he half-expected, but a confidence that came from the knowledge that it did not matter what Mr Bennet said to his daughter, he would still be getting married to the women he loved, and who loved him back completely.