Talk Any Louder
Chapter Nine
Though solitary rambles had been her habit since she was sixteen, Elizabeth found walking alone to be unsatisfying after several days of spending that time with Mr. Darcy. Air and exercise was Elizabeth's answer to all that ailed her. Solitude was preferable to the silliness and noise of her younger sisters, to the nervous distress of her mother and the shortcomings of her father. When compared to the companionship of a young man with a well-formed mind, a walk by herself was lonely. To return to the house in lower spirits than she had left with was unthinkable. And yet, entering Longbourn without having shared Mr. Darcy's company resulted in just that.
Divested of her bonnet, muff and pelisse, Elizabeth tried to cheer herself through other means. At breakfast, she would have the pleasure of Jane's company. Charlotte was still at Lucas Lodge and would welcome her friend paying a call. Mr. Collins being in the neighborhood meant her father was likely to have a new absurdity to share with her. And since she could not be truly happy banishing him from her thoughts, Elizabeth reminded herself that Mr. Darcy wished to see her still, he simply wanted their meetings chaperoned. He would come to call at Longbourn soon enough, and though she would have to share his attention with her mother or sisters, Elizabeth would still have the pleasure of his company and bear witness to his improved manners.
Moved to excellent spirits, and determined to be compelled into greater ones, Elizabeth sat down to breakfast with her family. Conversation at the table was exactly what she should expect: Mr. Bennet related bits of nonsense for the amusement of his daughters. Kitty bemoaned the loss of Lydia and the militia officers, but both were out of her mind easily enough when other topics of interest were introduced. Mary shared what quotations she felt were applicable to the conversation. Jane was serene and engaging to all. Elizabeth smothered giggles into her napkin.
Without warning and entirely unrelated to any of the conversation flowing around the table, Mrs. Bennet declared, "That Mr. Darcy! I begin to suspect he has no intention of offering for you at all, Lizzy."
Elizabeth's merriment was checked immediately by her mother's sudden outburst. She hardly knew how to respond to it. Ever since her mother had been informed of Mrs. Gardiner's ill-formed beliefs, Elizabeth had been trying to convince Mrs. Bennet otherwise. Her mother's behavior with the neighbors was an embarrassment. Elizabeth had carefully concealed her meetings with Mr. Darcy from the family. Mr. Darcy lingering in the neighborhood without being induced to hie to Longbourn had apparently succeeded where Elizabeth's persuasive skills had failed. Mrs. Bennet had ceased to consider the fortunes of her daughters saved and resumed prophesizing the worst scenario. Given the mortification her mother's behavior inspired, Elizabeth knew she should be satisfied with this change of heart. However, she had also enjoyed when Mrs. Bennet defended her to Mr. Collins. Hoping as she was for Mr. Darcy's addresses, Elizabeth did not feel equal to agreeing with her mother that he might never make an offer.
Dearest Jane said, "Mama, Mr. Darcy is a proper gentlemen. He wishes to court Lizzy before proposing."
"Quality people," Mrs. Bennet clucked, "if one can call them that, are not to be trusted. Why, Jane, just remember how ill Mr. Bingley used you."
This attack was effective at silencing Jane.
"He built up so much expectation and left without a word!" Mrs. Bennet continued regardless. "Mr. Collins wanted you first, Jane, remember, but I said, 'Mr. Collins, Jane is very likely to soon be engaged.' How much better off we all would be if Mr. Bingley had never entered the neighborhood! Jane would be Mrs. Collins and none of us would have met that Mr. Darcy. He'll do the same as his friend, I wager. Build up all of poor Lizzy's hopes and then wander away."
Elizabeth was, at this point, not sure whose conduct merited the most censure: Her mother's, for paining Jane; Mr. Bingley's, for doing exactly what he was accused of; or Mr. Darcy's for being responsible for Mr. Bingley's deflection. To Mr. Darcy, at least, she could attribute a noble motive, if not noble actions. Mr. Bingley had failed to follow the edict of his own heart, which in Elizabeth's opinion should have greater weight than the faulty judgment of his friend. Her mother's greatest mistake in this sorry business was being perfectly oblivious to the feelings of those around her.
As her mother was the only one of the three present, Elizabeth said, "Mama, please."
"I told you, Lizzy," her mother declared, shaking a finger in her direction. Elizabeth was at least relieved that Jane was spared any further pain by herself being Mrs. Bennet's primary target. "I told you never to dance with him. Did you listen to the wisdom of your mother? You did not! I am ill-used indeed. You did just what you please, like you always do, running wild and dancing with men worth ten thousand a year! It's a wonder to me he ever looked at you."
"Do you condemn Mr. Darcy because he looked at me," Elizabeth wondered, "or because he was not tempted by what he saw?"
"Men like Mr. Darcy do not want wives like you, Elizabeth," Mrs. Bennet said.
"Men like Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth countered, "will choose their own partners with no thought given to the preconceptions of persons unconnected to themselves."
"Exactly so," Mrs. Bennet replied, leaving her daughter to suppose she did not understand what was said. "His only concern is in pleasing Lady Catherine! It will be like Mr. Collins said! He will marry Miss De Bourgh! You will be a spinster!"
"Mr. Collins," Elizabeth reminded her, "informed us that any expectation of a marriage between Mr. Darcy and Miss De Bourgh was at an end."
"If only Mr. Darcy had wanted Jane!" Mrs. Bennet bemoaned.
"Then he should be a terrible friend!" Elizabeth declared, offended on Mr. Bingley's behalf.
"So graceful, so beautiful, so deferential! Those," her mother said pointedly, "are the qualities a man of Mr. Darcy's station looks for in a wife."
Mr. Bennet, having finished his meal and grown weary of the argument, stood to depart from the table. "You've got the wrong of Mr. Darcy," he said to his wife as he passed her. "He could not have less interest in a deferential wife." His eyes twinkled as he looked at Elizabeth. "Of grace and beauty, we will have to agree such things are in the eye of the beholder."
Satisfied that she had grace and beauty enough for both her beloved father and Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth said, "Mr. Darcy can be surprising, Mama. Please do not trouble yourself by trying to predict his actions."
"Mark my words, Elizabeth," Mrs. Bennet continued, as though no attempt had been made to reign her in, "He'll see you ruined!"
Their father's departure being enough to signal the end of the meal, Elizabeth's younger sisters took their leave. She could hardly blame either of them for it. Arguing with Mrs. Bennet was largely useless and neither Kitty nor Mary had the wit to make the best of it. Jane took Elizabeth's hand under the table.
"A rumored engagement leading up to nothing is hardly enough to ruin me, Mama," Elizabeth replied. Her prospects in the neighborhood had always been slim. No one who knew of this affair was likely to attempt to court her later. It was clear enough that she would marry Mr. Darcy or she would not marry at all, but to be a spinster and to be ruined were not analogous.
"Your honor!" Mrs. Bennet cried, "Your virtue!"
"Lizzy has done nothing to damage either!" Jane protested. "Her conduct has been nothing short of exemplary!"
Elizabeth blushed at this praise. Secret meetings with the gentleman were not exemplary conduct at all. She could rest assured that even if Jane had known of Elizabeth's assignations with Mr. Darcy, her older sister would still consider her without fault, but her own assessment was a bit more realistic. She squeezed Jane's hand.
"He's so rich, Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet continued. Normally, such a phrase out of the mouth of Mrs. Bennet was praise, but in this instance, it sounded like a plea. "We will never succeed if we take him to court for a breach of promise."
"We were never promised," Elizabeth replied, "so I should think that would be the case." It was on the tip of her tongue to inquire if Mrs. Bennet knew the truth behind Mr. Wickham's marrying Lydia. She and her sisters had long believed Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner pressured Mr. Wickham to the alter with a threat of legal action. In actuality, Mr. Darcy had bribed him into the match. She checked herself, however, aware that directing such a question to her father would be the better way to learn the information.
"Mr. Darcy is going to offer for Lizzy," Jane added. "He has not yet spent two weeks in her company. He is being sensible of her maidenly feelings."
"That is what the engagement period is for," Mrs. Bennet scoffed. "She will have weeks to get over her fears of what he shall do to her once the marriage is sanctioned by God."
"Mama!" Jane cried. Elizabeth, highly colored throughout the exchange, could only blush deeper. She had no fears of what Mr. Darcy would do, once the right to do as he willed was bestowed upon him. Every time she allowed herself to consider the duty of Mrs. Darcy, Elizabeth anticipated it more. She did not aspire to be only the object of his carnal desires; Elizabeth hoped to run his household, guard his happiness and mother his children.
"Jane dear," Mrs. Bennet replied, "a man needs his sons. Lizzy is clever enough to know how he intends to get them."
"Mama, Jane is not offended on behalf of my cleverness," Elizabeth argued, "but because this is not appropriate talk for the breakfast room."
"The talk is all for naught if Mr. Darcy does not offer for you!" her mother cried.
"And so he shall, Mama," Jane said at the same time that Elizabeth replied, "Then we'll all be better served to save our breath." Jane frowned at her sister. "You may talk all you like after an engagement occurs, should one occur," Elizabeth added. With a side long glance at her mother, she continued, "Though perhaps not in the breakfast room."
Mr. Darcy himself had drawn a comparison between Mrs. Bennet and Lady Catherine when he entered the neighborhood. Elizabeth was finding the two women had more in common than just their love for professing their own opinions. Neither of them required a response. Indeed, Mrs. Bennet wailed on about how Mr. Darcy would never offer for Elizabeth, as though neither she nor her sister had ever entered the conversation.
Through the employment of a lengthy tirade over which neither Elizabeth nor Jane could be heard, Mrs. Bennet convinced herself that not only would Mr. Darcy never pay his addresses to Elizabeth, but that he never intended to make them in the first place. Mrs. Bennet was now subscribing to the same interpretation of Mr. Darcy's character that she had found so offensive when espoused by Mr. Collins. Mr. Darcy, she claimed, was cut from the same cloth as his countryman, Mr. Wickham. He hoped only to find that Elizabeth was as ruled by her passions as Lydia. He would take what he wanted and leave her. His wealth made him untouchable. He would see the entire family ruined.
"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said coldly once her mother was finished, "is a gentleman. I shall thank you to speak of him in such a way no longer."
"You call what he's done the actions of a gentleman?" Mrs. Bennet asked skeptically. By this time, she may have forgotten that her theories were only her own conjecture and not events that had actually taken place.
"I do," Elizabeth replied. "He is the best man I have ever known and has done nothing to warrant such abuse."
"A man of with any sense of decency or honor would have offered for you by now," her mother replied, firm in her convictions.
Unable to bear a repetition of Mrs. Bennet's dreadful claims, Elizabeth disclosed the piece of information she had always promised herself her mother would never know: "He did offer for me," Elizabeth said. "In April. I refused him, most violently. Even a man of decency and honor has the right to some hesitation, in light of that."
Mrs. Bennet's reaction to the news was everything Elizabeth had ever feared. She was equal parts fury and nerves, calling Elizabeth out for harming the prospects of all her sisters and decrying the physical pains the daughter's behavior wrought. She spoke of Elizabeth in terms most abusive. She insisted she would never speak to her again. When Elizabeth attempted to save herself the pain of listening to such language, her mother immediately broke her vow to demand that Elizabeth stay exactly where she was.
Eventually worn out by the force of her own anger and hopelessness, Mrs. Bennet retreated upstairs to her room.
"You know she did not mean it," Jane said, attempting to relieve Elizabeth's wounded feelings.
"I know she will forget," Elizabeth replied, feeling mostly shock. "I believe she meant exactly what she said."
"Her only wish is to know that you will be cared for once Papa is gone," her sister argued. "It must be very frightening, to be mother to daughters with uncertain prospects."
Although Elizabeth was hurt and dismayed by her mother's conduct, she understood that Jane, though witnessing it all, could not condemn her parent. Mrs. Bennet's fears, however foolishly or cruelly expressed, were rooted in a very real concern for the girls' futures. In her assessment of her mother's feelings, Jane could not dismiss that. Any attempt she made to comfort Elizabeth must exonerate the one who gave her such pain.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, was much too pained to be feeling charitable towards someone who spoke so meanly of her. Mrs. Bennet's fits were selfish. Even Elizabeth herself did not approve of her past conduct, but she accepted how her actions were colored by her feelings at the time. Though her mother vocally disliked Mr. Darcy, she had made no attempt to consider how unappealing a match would be to someone who felt likewise. Comfort and consequence were as attractive to Elizabeth as they were to any other gentleman's daughter, but spending life attached to a man she could not respect or love was too high a cost. The knowledge of how worthy Mr. Darcy was of her respect came too late. Much trouble would have been avoided had he grown so dear to her months ago.
It was useless to speak of regrets to anyone but the man himself. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters would not be sheltered by regret. Sisterly confidences could change nothing. It was up to Mr. Darcy to find the courage to breech the subject. Elizabeth had given him enough difficulties that he was reluctant to do so, if he even still wished it. She had hoped he could read her intent in sharing a novel about a pair of lovers, or the commitment she made in those 800 pages. To tease him about poetry was indirect, but as a lady, it was the best she could do.
Because exercise was the cure for all that ailed her, Elizabeth announced, "I am going for a walk."
Disinclined to leave Elizabeth to solitary reflections after a heated conversation with Mrs. Bennet, Jane asked, "May I accompany you?"
"Of course," Elizabeth answered, "though I fear I will not be the best of company."
Elizabeth trampled an angry circuit around the park. Displeased with every part of the situation she found herself in, no amount of reflection could ease her mind. Her own conduct had been poor throughout. Many of her family members had played a part in furthering the rumors which she could not escape. She was the darling of Meryton as long as an imminent engagement could be believed, but should it fail to manifest, she would have the scorn of the same people. Jane searched for every silver lining or bit of encouragement to share with her sister.
The girls were nearly returned to the front gate when they spied a man on horseback approaching Longbourn. They stopped and watched so as to make out his identity. It was Mr. Darcy. "All will be well," Jane whispered.
Rather than return to the house, the sisters waited for their visitor's arrival. He came to a stop before them and dismounted.
"Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth." Mr. Darcy bowed. The sisters curtsied and chimed, "Mr. Darcy," in unison. A groomsman relieved Mr. Darcy of his horse. Though he tried to direct some of his attention to Jane has he made the usual inquiries into the well-being of their family, his consideration was monopolized by Elizabeth.
"Miss Elizabeth," he said, hesitant. "Are you well?"
"Yes, sir," she answered. "I thank you for your concern." He did not appear convinced, and Elizabeth felt clarification necessary. "I have merely had a disagreement with my mother. I fear such things are typical. It shall not distress me for long."
"I had hoped to call at Longbourn," Mr. Darcy said, as though his presence there was not enough to indicate such an intention. "If you do not wish to return to the house, do not let me importune you."
"Should I choose not to return to the house," Elizabeth queried, "what would become of your intentions?"
He smiled slightly. "They would require some revision. Should the object I seek not be at Longbourn, I must seek her elsewhere."
Elizabeth glanced at Jane. The presence of her sister should be adequate chaperonage. "My sister and I were walking," she said, "Would you care to join us?"
Mr. Darcy indicated that he would like to join them and the party rearranged themselves so that each of the girls held one of his arms. The group took a turn through the wilderness. The time passed pleasantly enough. Jane's company was sufficient to prevent Elizabeth's mind from contemplating the timber of Mr. Darcy's voice or the handsome shape of his lips overmuch. Supporting a second lady on his arm checked the intensity of his gaze.
When their path took them again to the gate, Mr. Darcy said, "I should like to pay my respects to your parents."
Elizabeth frowned. "My mother is likely to be indisposed," she replied, "but I am sure my father could be persuaded to be home to visitors."
"If he does not typically see callers," Mr. Darcy answered, "he need not change his habits on my account."
"He will be pleased to see you," Elizabeth insisted. "It has been many weeks since you last called, and he would appreciate your sensible conversation."
"Have I been remiss?" he wondered.
"Oh, no!" Elizabeth was eager to acquit him on the subject of his manners. "Papa did not return your call, and so there was nothing to be done."
"Until one becomes impatient," Mr. Darcy corrected, "and decides he shall have his own way regardless."
At this, Elizabeth laughed and she was happy to do so. "I have noticed that about you often! You are perfectly proper until it suits you to be otherwise." With Jane on his other arm, she dared not list examples.
"I am glad you are in better spirits," he said, his eyes showing his satisfaction. Sobering himself, Mr. Darcy added, "I hope your mother shares your constitution."
Trifling pleasantries about how her mother would get over their argument soon enough could not seem to escape Elizabeth's mouth. Through the course of it, she had revealed personal information about him without his consent. "Sir," she said cautiously, "I fear I must give you some intelligence about my mother's current indisposition."
"You need not air any private concerns to me," he said kindly.
"I am afraid it involves you," Elizabeth confessed. "I cannot be easy without your being aware." Silently, he waited for her to continue. Elizabeth took a fortifying breath. "Though I had promised myself I would never do so," she prefaced, "not two hours ago, I told my mother of the events of last April."
He lost some of his color and said faintly, "I see."
"I am very sorry to give you pain," Elizabeth hurried to add, "or remind you of the dreadful things I said on that unfortunate day. I am sorry to say, I felt it necessary for her to have more information about our relationship, in light of some of her own beliefs."
"Her beliefs on what score?"
"On the score of your character, sir," she answered. "I shall not repeat what was said, but she accused you of conduct unbefitting a gentleman, and I felt corrections were in order." Here, she paused, aware that on the dreaded day in April, his character had come under undeserved censure from none other than herself. "I have, of course, not shared any of the information you related to me in confidence."
"Mrs. Bennet was angry at you," Mr. Darcy surmised, "for doing what your own feelings had made necessary." He was studiously not looking in her direction. His eyes fixed on the house.
"Yes, sir." Her feelings had undergone a material change. Had he not withdrawn from her, had Jane not been on his other arm, Elizabeth would have added something about how differently she felt towards him now.
"I should like to speak to her," he declared, steering the group towards Longbourn.
