A/N: As this is the continuation of a conversation, I thought I'd better not wait too long to post it, else you'd all forget where we were. However, first I'm going to respond to a few reviews, and unfortunately not all will be of the pleasant variety.
Now, I am not in the habit of responding to reviewers that don't like the story; that's entirely your prerogative, as it is my prerogative to write in a manner which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you or to any person so wholly unconnected with me. (Apologies, I couldn't resist.) But there were two reviews in particular that I would like to address.
The first review, I take issue with for no story-related reasons. It was from a user called QOP and it read: "I've always thought Lizzie was a b****. And here, I just want to strangle her. I never understood Darcy's fascination with her, but, I've noticed men like b****!"
My first response is: if you don't like Elizabeth, why on earth are you in the Pride and Prejudice tag? Seriously, I feel like you might be in the wrong fandom here because, well, how do I put this subtly? Elizabeth is the main character of this one.
My second point is a little less friendly, so if you have Jane Bennet's kind heart, you might want to skip to the story. What I'd really like to say is, well, how dare you make such a nasty sexist comment, QOP? It is 2016. Surely we have passed the point where it's still clever or even acceptable to talk yourself up by putting down other women, or to blame the disinterest of the opposite (or same) sex on their preference for "b****es", who are clearly inferior to yourself, as you are clearly an incredibly nice person - you know, when you're not disparaging the rest of the women you know. Even Miss Bingley wasn't inclined to tolerate that kind of rubbish: she very wrongly described Elizabeth as "one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art."
She's right, much as I hate to find myself taking Miss Bingley's side. It is a paltry device and a very mean art and moreover it will not be tolerated here. While constructive criticism will always always be welcome, from this point forward, I will be deleting any review that I deem to be sexist, or that reflects bigoted ideals. This was the first blatantly rude review, because thankfully the vast and overwhelming majority of you have been an absolute delight to hear from, but I say now, it will be the last.
The other kind odd review came from a guest who decided to comment purely to tell me what to do now, as it was "obvious" where the story was going. Dude. I am relatively certain I know a bit more about where the story is going than you do. Please hush. I love to hear your predictions, but please don't try to tell me how to write my own story.
On a lighter note, a few of you have commented that Elizabeth is very intractable. Yes, she is. For this I make no apologies. It's literally in the title, she is prejudice. Go back and read the book if you need to remind yourself exactly how long canon Lizzy holds onto her resentment. She's flawed, that's what makes her character development interesting. As for her view here, YepItsMe summarised it best in their review when they said "it might be difficult to reconcile The Strong Brave Hottie Who Smells Amazing And Saved My Life with The Frowny Growly Man". For those of you that think Elizabeth should really get over the nasty comment at the assembly, allow me to show you something. This is the essence of what Darcy says in a modern context.
Bingley: Come on, Darcy. There's one of Jane's sisters over there. She's pretty; why don't you try her?
Darcy: Pretty's an exaggeration; I'd give her a four, maybe, and I don't get out of bed for less than an eight. Go see that Jane girl, you're not going to get anywhere with me. I'd rather have no sex at all than a pity shag with some girl who's only available because none of the other men here want her.
Imagine hearing some stranger say that about you. Now try - just try - to tell me that you are a big enough person to not hate that guy for the rest of your natural life, no matter what he did then. I don't know about you but honestly I'd probably hold onto that forever. Seriously, if someone said that about me and then proceeded to single-handedly cure cancer and rescue my whole family from a fire, I would still kind of be mad about it. I would be dead and my tombstone would just read "Here Lies Eleanor", etc, etc, and then underneath that in smaller font "also f*** you, random guy, I was definitely hot enough for a pity shag, not that I need a pity shag of course because there are plenty of people in the world who want to have sex with me, obviously, and actually I'm glad you didn't want to have sex with me because I would rather die a virgin that shag you anyway".
Now, thank you to cartasdeamor, vickety, SugarQuills10, YepItsMe, ilex-ferox, Babe Pryor, EngLitLover, tarlily, Javalorena, LMFG, cleob, Talktidy, and the numerous guests that left reviews, I absolutely love hearing what you thought. Special thank you to ilex-forex, the detail of your reviews is always a joy to me.
Apologies for the long A/N, but hopefully we won't have to do anything like that again.
Enjoy the update!
~Eleanor
'How did you enjoy the ball at Netherfield, Charlotte? It was very good of you to rescue us from Mr Collins after supper; I was beginning to think I would have to feign a fit of the vapours to escape another set with him.'
'Then I am glad I joined you when I did for you have no talent for deception and would have fooled nobody,' said Charlotte dryly.
'Oh but in this particular deception I have had the benefit of a master.'
Charlotte rather suspected she knew to whom Lizzy was referring and reproached her without feeling:
'You ought not to speak so of your poor mama.'
'Why ever not? I should think she would be delighted to hear that I have applied myself to the study of at least one of the arts of allurement that she has tried so valiantly to teach me.'
'I fail to see how fainting might be considered alluring – though your mother certainly seems to believe you've ensnared Mr Darcy by it, so perhaps I am wrong—'
'Oh Charlotte, I pray you, let us not speak any more of Mr Darcy; I cannot think on him without distress,' said Lizzy, and truly she was distressed.
Her efforts to sketch Mr Darcy's character had never met with less success and it unsettled her greatly; their conversation at the Netherfield Ball had left her in little doubt of his pride, of his blatant contempt for the injuries he had inflicted upon poor Mr Wickham, and yet his behaviour on Wednesday could not in any respect be called prideful. After her initial dismay at learning of his involvement on Friday, she had been afforded any number of quiet hours during which to consider the experience – though she had not been permitted to walk any further than the length of her room – and still she had come to no better conclusion.
He had humbled himself in her service, this she knew without question both from her own vague recollections and from what Jane had told her; he had tended to her wounds and given her his coat; he had exposed himself to the viciousness of the elements, risking illness and forsaking dignity, to ensure her safety. She fairly burned with shame and embarrassment at the very thought, though she was not entirely sure why. The rest of his conduct, she could not make sense of. Excepting that first unchivalrous comment, he had ever been courteous in the face of her insolence; yet on Friday, when he would perhaps have had the best chance of attracting her courtesy, he had been insolent! He had not said ten words together, she was sure of it, and still he had managed to give offence. Insufferable man.
'Really, Charlotte,' she said again, attempting to regain some of her good humour. 'Let us not think of Mr Darcy.'
Charlotte eyed her sceptically and replied, 'I think you must think on him, Lizzy.'
Though neither made any reference to the rumoured engagement, Lizzy was far too quick to mistake her friend's implication. She was silent a moment, her gaze fixed on her bandaged hand in her lap, her mind awhirl with that distressing possibility.
'Is it very wrong of me, Charlotte,' she said eventually, brow furrowed in vexation, 'to wish that it had been some other person who came upon me at Oakham Mount?'
'Not very wrong; but perhaps a little. And perhaps more so if you are thinking of Mr Wickham, which I suspect you are.'
'I had not been, but I daresay he would have served well enough; better even, for he would have exerted himself to speak to me afterwards,' she said, feeling playful and provoked by turns.
Charlotte did not bother to reproach her friend, but merely raised a bow.
'I have said nothing that is not true, Charlotte. Even you cannot deny that Mr Wickham's manners are far pleasanter than Mr Darcy's.'
'I do not deny it, but it does not follow that his character should be necessarily better; to tell the truth, I cannot imagine Mr Wickham undertaking to carry you all the way to Longbourn in such a storm,' Charlotte said frankly.
'Perhaps not, but it is not as if either of us could have imagined Mr Darcy undertaking such a thing until he did.'
'I am sure that you could not have – but I have always had a better opinion of him than you.'
Lizzy laughed.
'Do you mean to tell me that you, my dearest and most reasonable friend, have been concocting grand romances between myself and Mr Darcy? I will not believe it.'
'Certainly not,' Charlotte conceded. 'But,' she added with an implicative lightness of tone, 'even you must admit that it would not be for a lack of beauty that neither of us suspected Mr Darcy would make a suitable hero.'
Their eyes met and any attempt at restraint was given up as a bad job.
'No perhaps not,' said Lizzy archly when she had recovered from their very undignified display of mirth, 'but I am convinced we must be forgiven for neglecting to put forward a heroine who was only tolerable.'
'Lizzy,' admonished her friend. 'Surely such a comment cannot have much weight in consideration of his actions now.'
'Are you suggesting that Mr Darcy would not trouble himself to rescue a woman he thought plain? That does not reflect well on him.'
'You are wilfully misunderstanding me,' Charlotte said pointedly, perfectly used to such behaviour and uninclined to allow it.
'That is what he said,' Lizzy recalled without thinking.
'I beg your pardon?'
'Mr Darcy,' Lizzy explained with some embarrassment. Charlotte raised an eyebrow and Lizzy said contritely: 'While I was at Netherfield caring for Jane, I had a discussion with Mr Darcy… Regarding the nature of our respective character flaws.'
Charlotte knew her friend far too well to feel anything other than horrified trepidation.
'Oh Lizzy, what did you say?' she said, almost wishing not to hear the answer.
'I said that his vital flaw must be his propensity to hate everyone.'
'—oh good heavens—'
'And he said that mine was to wilfully misunderstand them.'
Charlotte exhaled in relief.
'Then he knows you very well, Lizzy,' she said, ignoring Elizabeth's protests to the contrary. 'And you are very lucky that he does; another gentleman might well have taken offense.'
'I wish he had, for then I would be spared the trouble of conversing with him.'
'Lizzy, you are being very impertinent,' said Charlotte with some severity. 'I daresay you dislike the man but at the very least you must be courteous to him; he saved your life.'
'That is precisely why I dislike him, Charlotte! I do not like to be in any gentleman's debt, and I like it far less when the gentleman is Mr Darcy, who is too proud to accept any sort of gratitude.'
Charlotte's gaze softened and she leant forward to clasp Lizzy's uninjured hand briefly.
'That may be so, but truly, I am grateful that he happened upon you when he did; I should hate to lose you, Lizzy.'
Lizzy felt all of her friend's sincerity and as the distance was too great to allow her to embrace her friend, she instead lifted the hand in her grasp to press an affectionate kiss to the back of it.
'Oh Charlotte, for your sake, I shall endeavour to be kind to him,' she said, releasing her hand with a last squeeze and quite forgetting that she had already made and broken such a promise to Jane within the space of the past Friday.
'I am glad to hear it,' said Charlotte warmly. 'Perhaps he will improve upon closer acquaintance. By all accounts he is a clever man, and from what you have said of your stay at Netherfield, he is a great reader, so perhaps you will find some common interest there.'
'I hope not! That I must be courteous to him, I own, but for it would be dreadful of me to enjoy the company of a man who has so wronged one of our friends.'
'You speak of Mr Wickham,' said Charlotte, displeased by his return to the conversation.
'Of course!' cried Elizabeth. 'Is there another in our circle who has suffered at his hands?'
'Lizzy, I wish you would not put so much faith in what Mr Wickham has said of Mr Darcy,' Charlotte said with some feeling. It is the blessing of a plain woman, she thought, to have never been the object of flattery; her sense of self-worth was fixed, and her vanity was not buffeted about by every charming gentleman she met with. She fancied that her perception was greatly improved by her position of impartiality, and wished only that her friend could be persuaded to listen to her. 'Consider: we neither of us have any means by which to judge its truthfulness.'
'Charlotte, you cannot think he would invent such a tale.'
'If it is true, I think it very strange that he should share such personal information with you on so short an acquaintance, or indeed at all; it does not speak to a prudent character.'
Elizabeth paused, wounded by the disapproval of her dearest friend.
'Charlotte, do you really think so ill of Mr Wickham?'
Charlotte looked to the side, then brought her gaze back to Lizzy's with something of an archness in the quirk of her brow.
'I do not believe that Mr Wickham would have ruined his coat for you.'
The pair dissolved into a merry exchange of denial – all Lizzy's – and serene insistence – all Charlotte's – until Lizzy finally conceded.
'Perhaps you are right,' she said, and before Charlotte could crow, continued to say, 'but I daresay that is because he cannot afford to be ruining his coats. And that is undoubtedly a charge for which the blame lies squarely at Mr Darcy's door.'
Charlotte reproached her without expectation of success.
'Be careful, Lizzy,' said she, 'that you do not allow your vanity to inform your preference.'
'Preference? My dear Charlotte, you speak as if I would ever be required to express an inclination either way.'
'You may laugh, Lizzy, but we neither of us may be sure that such a situation may not come about.'
'On the contrary, I am very sure that it shall not,' Lizzy said dismissively. 'Mr Wickham has paid attentions to me, it is true, but certainly never in such a way as to raise expectations, and truthfully, Charlotte, I have no particular feelings towards him. He is a very agreeable acquaintance, certainly, and while I shall be sad to relinquish his company to some woman more liable to find herself in love with him, I shall not be wounded by the loss. As for Mr Darcy, I daresay I will never be obliged to dissuade or encourage him either way; whatever my mother says, I am sure he has never looked at me but to see a fault.'
Privately and perhaps for the first time in their long friendship, Charlotte found herself agreeing with Mrs Bennet. Mr Darcy certainly looked at her friend a great deal; even Elizabeth had noticed his peculiar habit of standing near her whenever they were in company together, seemingly content to spend the evening lurking in her wake, eavesdropping on all her conversations, a habit which bothered Elizabeth mostly because he never exerted himself to participate. Her loyalty to her friend asserted itself and she decided that Mr Darcy was rather more admiring than Elizabeth gave him credit for. She knew her friend well enough, however, to know that such an idea would only prompt further laughter, and she did not think it kind to expose Mr Darcy to such cheerful censure, if indeed he did harbour soft feelings for Lizzy, so she said nothing of her suspicions.
'Come, Charlotte,' Lizzy said, now in a very good humour. 'Let us speak of other things.'
'Very well,' said Charlotte, knowing that she could delay no further in imparting her news. 'I have something I must tell you.'
Lizzy raised her eyebrows.
'Why, Charlotte, what is it? You do sound severe.' Her brow creased in concern. 'Is something the matter at Lucas Lodge?'
Charlotte hastened to reassure her. 'No, we are all very well.'
'Is Mr Collins making a nuisance of himself? I am truly sorry you have had to suffer him so long but I confess I am relieved he was not here to witness the spectacle—'
'Lizzy,' Charlotte interrupted, reaching again for Elizabeth's hand. 'I am engaged.'
Elizabeth broke off abruptly. 'Engaged?' she repeated.
'Yes,' said Charlotte, her voice steady. 'To Mr Collins. He left yesterday for Hunsford to make the arrangements. It will be announced upon his return to the neighbourhood.'
'Mr Collins!' Elizabeth could not help but cry. 'No, it is not possible, Charlotte; I cannot believe that such a man has won your heart.'
'He did not need to,' said Charlotte honestly. She hesitated, and then continued, 'I am not like you, Lizzy, as you well know… I am seven and twenty, well past the age where I might reasonably allow romantic inclinations to inform my choices, though,' she added, 'you must not think that I resent you for doing so.' She smiled. 'I am under no illusions, Lizzy, I am not beautiful; my charms and accomplishments, such as they are, might kindly be called limited.'
Lizzy attempted to protest but Charlotte would brook no interruption.
'No, Lizzy, you must listen now. I am grateful for your loyalty but you must acknowledge how very unlikely it would be for me ever to receive another offer. Truly, I am content with Mr Collins. He is respectable in his way, his situation is good, and I think he will treat me kindly. Whatever indignities may befall me with such a husband, they cannot outweigh the ignominy of my alternative.'
Elizabeth did not know how to respond. She coloured, doubted, and looked down at Charlotte's hand in her own, feeling all the mortification of their situation.
'You are in earnest,' Elizabeth said quietly, and Charlotte knew it was not a question. Slowly, Elizabeth raised her eyes to meet her friend's. 'And you are sure of your decision?'
Charlotte owned that she was. Elizabeth squeezed her hand quickly and smiled.
'Then I am sorry for what I have said about him in the past,' she said with forced cheerfulness. 'By his choice of bride he has already proved himself to be cleverer than I gave him credit for, and I am persuaded that if you were to remark every so often on the subject of the felicitations you expect shall come from your new situation, I think I shall begin to think him quite agreeable indeed.'
Charlotte smiled. 'And what particular felicitations should you like to hear described?'
'Oh any will do. Perhaps you will share your delight in the opportunity to redecorate your new sitting room entirely in green, or tell me how well you think you shall look in a fine lace cap,' Lizzy teased. Charlotte obliged with pleasure, and the two passed another merry half an hour in this fashion, each refusing to consider how few opportunities they would have for such shared gaiety when the day of Charlotte's wedding was behind them.
