A Courtship Begins
Mr. Darcy was not to visit until after luncheon and her aunt had decreed that the children were not to disturb their 'Cousin Lizzy', which afforded Elizabeth both time and opportunity to reflect upon Mr. Darcy who, she realized, had been dominating her thoughts for some time; but, until her father's consent to the courtship had been given, she had not allowed herself to consider him as a possible husband. That much of her comprehension of Mr. Darcy's character had been based on mistakes and misunderstandings had been known to her for some weeks. Once the mortification inherent on recognizing those errors on her own part had passed, she had not allowed herself to wonder at her visceral dislike of Mr. Darcy that had taken hold of her for so many months. She was not sure why this feeling should exist and perhaps she had not been ready to look at the reasons behind it. She now realized that this could not continue and that she would have to address it, for once and for all.
She believed that the source was now more easily determined; She had been attracted to Mr. Darcy almost immediately - how could a woman not be attracted to such a handsome man – but he had insulted her before their acquaintance had even been established – dismissing her as unworthy, as 'not handsome enough to tempt him'. She recognized the blow to her vanity but had not thought herself so prejudiced as to not allow him to repair the damage – despite evidence, obvious to her now, that his every subsequent action of his had been an attempt to do so - at least in part. His conversations at Netherfield, his repeated attempts to dance with her – of which she had agreed only to the last and then spent chastising him – and his seeking her out to walk with her at Hunsford, were all obvious signs – not that she could see them then – of his interest and a repudiation of his slighting comment – even if that had not been his conscious purpose. She was resolved to put the incident behind her – although she thought it might prove useful should the opportunity arise, to tease Mr. Darcy about it. It was, however, a puzzle to her - why would a man, who otherwise behaved with civility, say something so abominably rude? She thought she was owed an explanation at the very least.
She searched her memory for other aspects of his dealings with her and only the inconsistency of his behaviour puzzled her. The same man who would ask her to dance three times also ignored her presence – beyond the coldest of civil greetings – when they shared the Netherfield library for a full half hour. His visits to the parsonage were equally puzzling. To sit for the duration of a visit without engaging in conversation beyond the barest and briefest of commonplace civilities was unfathomable to her. She had interpreted it as indicative of his disdain and disapproval. Was it something else entirely? Another question she would have to ask or puzzle out.
Then there was the matter of his arrogance and pride. His decision to involve himself in the business of her sister and his friend was surely proof of that arrogance. But what was arrogance but an insulting way of thinking or behaving that comes from believing that you are better, smarter, or more important than other people? Of this, she could find no shortage of proof. Mr. Darcy was clearly much more intelligent than most of those who surrounded him. His importance, she could not deny since his estate and birth would surely support such a feeling and, since he was assiduous in his management of that estate and other business, it was difficult to argue that he was not important. That he was somehow better than those with whom he was required to associate was more questionable. Certainly, society would deem him to be so and, if such a judgement were based solely on his personal merits, she would not fault it. That he felt no compunction on displaying that he viewed those around him as inferior, certainly contributed to her dislike; but, when she considered it further, she remembered that it was principally at the Assembly that the worst of his behaviour was displayed. In other engagements that he attended, he had been withdrawn and certainly not sociable but had been civil for the most part. Was there some reason that could explain his behaviour that one evening?
As she considered the matter further, she remembered his words when they were engaged in a heated discussion at Netherfield 'But pride – where there is a real superiority of mind – pride will always be under good regulation.' The pomposity of that statement – and the obvious circular reasoning since to claim such superiority was, in effect, an expression of pride – she found as amusing now, as then. Nonetheless, there was an element of truth contained therein, no matter how impolitic it was to have uttered it. Mr. Darcy did have a good regulation of mind - his judgement was sought and trusted by others – and he was obviously intelligent and thoughtful. He had cause to be confident in his judgement; however, he was fallible – as the matter of Jane and Bingley showed – and perhaps that error would cause him to be more cautious – and less arrogant – in the future. It was the way in which he conducted himself – his haughty manner – that offended and yet, he had greeted her aunt and uncle with perfect civility and every evidence of enjoying their company. Was he aware of how he was viewed? Or did his recent behaviour indicate an awareness of how uncivil he had been? She could not know for certain but the important question was whether this change - this improvement - was of a permanent nature.
If it was, then Mr. Darcy might make a most agreeable husband. As she considered this further, she remembered Charlotte's words - Mr. Darcy had, at the young age of two and twenty - come into the full management of a large estate upon the death of his father. The responsibilities inherent upon this must have been both a great burden and an equally great worry. She could not encompass all of the concerns that he faced but her knowledge of Longbourn and the responsibilities her father discharged - albeit poorly - were, she suspected, small in comparison to those faced by Mr. Darcy. As well, if she remembered correctly, that he had lost the service of a trusted steward scant months after the death of his father. He, perforce, was required to undertake responsibility for his estate without the guidance of a trusted steward. Surely a most demanding and worrisome undertaking; and yet, not five years later, his advice on running an estate was sought by Mr. Bingley who had considered acquiring an estate and also by his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It could not but speak well for his abilities and dedication to such responsibilities.
When she remembered that, at the time he took on the management of his estate, he was also charged with the guardianship and more importantly, the raising of a ten year old sister - a task for which she was sure he thought himself totally unfitted and which, from her brief acquaintance with Miss Darcy, she believed him to have done particularly well - she could not but feel admiration. That he had been deceived by someone to whom he had entrusted Miss Darcy could not be held to his account - although, given his sense of responsibility, she thought he indeed would do so - and then betrayed by a childhood friend, so lost to a sense of decency as to importune a fifteen year old girl, the daughter of a man whom he professed to honour - could in no way diminished his success with Miss Darcy who, Elizabeth was sure, regarded her brother with affection and esteem. If he could act so carefully and thoughtfully with a sister, would he not also extend the same care, consideration and protection to a wife and children? This was no small concern for Elizabeth when she regarded her own family.
Had Elizabeth's opinions been all drawn from her own family, she could not have formed a very pleasing picture of conjugal felicity or domestic comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance of good humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had, very early in their marriage, put an end to all real affection for her. Respect, esteem, and confidence had vanished forever; and all his views of domestic happiness were overthrown. But her father was not of a disposition to seek comfort, for the disappointment which his own imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which too often console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. He was fond of the country and of books; and from these tastes arose his principal enjoyments. To his wife he was very little otherwise indebted, than as her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement. This is not the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe to his wife; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.
Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her father's behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with pain; but respecting his abilities, and while grateful for his affectionate treatment of herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and to banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation and decorum which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own children, was so highly reprehensible. But she had never felt so strongly as now the disadvantages which must attend the children of so unsuitable a marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising from so ill-judged a direction of talents; talents which, when rightly used, might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife. She realized that she wanted more and better from the man she chose as her husband. She was not so foolish as to expect that her husband would be without fault; but she was determined that he would have a preponderance of those characteristics likely to ensure felicity and respect in marriage. That she and her husband should respect each the other; that he would provide her with a secure and loving environment in which to bear and raise their children, were all essential. She was determined not to settle for less.
These deliberations had consumed much of her morning and she did not repine when Darcy did not arrive at Gracechurch Street until shortly after luncheon. While Elizabeth had found herself regretting that he would not call after breakfast, her need for time to reflect on their courtship was important to her. Besides, he had indicated the evening before that business matters would occupy his time for several hours every day and that, if he could dispose of them early in the day, he would then be able to attend her for the remainder. She could not disagree with this decision and, when she considered it more carefully, she was pleased that he was so resolute in conducting his business affairs. When she compared his attitude to that of her father, who was somewhat indolent in such matters, she could not feel that the comparison flattered her father. Suddenly Elizabeth remembered the conversation between Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy when she stayed at Netherfield to nurse Jane.
"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year – letters of business too! How odious I should think them!"
"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours."
She realized that, even when visiting his friend, he had attended to business.
When Darcy was shown into the room, he found her sitting on the floor and playing with her cousins – two girls of six and eight years and two younger boys – in the sitting room. Slightly discomposed to be found in such a position – although it did not appear that Mr. Darcy was anything but charmed by the sight – she rose to curtsey and introduce her cousins. Since the afternoon was warm and sunny, Darcy and Elizabeth accompanied the children and their nurse on a visit to the neighbouring park.
Despite his desire to walk with Elizabeth on his arm, Darcy found himself escorting Miss Gardiner – named for her grandmother, Margaret – on one elbow and Miss Ellen Gardiner on the other. If he was dismayed at the prospect, he hid it well and was gravely solicitous to both girls as he escorted them. Elizabeth's hands had quickly been usurped by her youngest cousins who alternately skipped, hopped and chattered unceasingly as they attempted to hurry her to the park. Her apologetic look at him was met with a small smile and a quiet, "Do not concern yourself, Miss Bennet. I am not unfamiliar with young ladies." Turning to her cousins, "And I am particularly pleased to have made the acquaintance of these two fine young ladies." which produced a most charming blush on the part of Miss Gardiner and a soft chuckle from Elizabeth.
Once they reached the park, the two youngest Gardiners quickly dropped Elizabeth's hands and, pursued by their governess, scampered away accompanied willingly by Miss Ellen and somewhat reluctantly by Miss Gardiner who had been charged with assisting in controlling her brothers by both her mother and governess. Darcy was not slow to offer his arm to Elizabeth and she was not reluctant to accept it. They walked in a comfortable silence for a short distance before Darcy spoke, "I like your cousins. They are a lively bunch. Your Cousin Margaret reminds me a little of Georgiana - quiet and rather shy, perhaps."
"Margaret is very much like Jane and Georgiana. My aunt hopes that when she goes to school in a year or so, she will become more comfortable around people she does not know." Elizabeth was quiet for a few seconds and, as Mr. Darcy did not seem inclined to pursue that topic and indeed appeared to be in a contemplative mood himself, wondered if it would be an opportune time to start seeking answers to the questions that her morning's contemplations had raised but decided to explore the subject of his current thoughtfulness. Before she could do so, however, he spoke rather tentatively, "I believe, Miss Bennet, I owe you an apology - perhaps several since I suspect I committed a number of offences."
Elizabeth simply gazed at him, rather surprised that he would apologize for anything, before chastising herself for such an unkind reaction. 'When am I ever going to give this man his due?'
She realized that Darcy had noted her surprise and she hoped that he was not aware of the reason for it. "Yes, indeed we spoke of it last night when I was recounting my meeting with your father. I feel I must make my apology for those most insulting words that I spoke at the Assembly where we first met."
"Actually, Mr. Darcy, I do not believe we had met. If I remember correctly, you refused the acquaintance."
"Your memory is, unfortunately, all too good. It was perhaps the most uncivil and insulting thing I can remember doing. If I had known you had heard it - that anyone had heard it - I doubt I would have the fortitude to show my face there again."
"Are you apologizing for the action, Mr. Darcy - insulting me - or the consequences - it being heard? For if it is only for the consequences but you do not regret the action, an apology is meaningless."
"I am apologizing first for saying it and also for being so lost to propriety as to have said such in a public setting. That it was heard but adds to my shame." He paused, "I will make no excuses. It was a reflection of my mood and displeasure. I will not try to disclaim my actions by saying I did not see you. I did but what I did not see then, I began to see over the course of the following weeks. You were more than tolerable enough to tempt me, Miss Bennet, and, if truth is to be known, the reputed claims to beauty of your elder sister are nothing compared to your own."
Elizabeth could not help but blush in amazement at the compliment, knew not how to respond and unable to meet his eyes, gazed at the ground in front of her.
Darcy seeing her discomfort could not resist a tease, "You will have to get used to such compliments, Miss Bennet. You will surely receive many such from me in the future."
"I believe, sir, you are enjoying my embarrassment!"
"Indeed I am, and you are encouraging me to repeat it frequently. I do admire your countenance when you blush." His grin faded as he said in a less light-hearted voice, "I do hope you will forgive and forget my unkind words, Miss Bennet."
"I have spent a considerable amount of time lately considering them and other matters that lie between us. I can assure you that I had resolved this morning to put them behind me so your apology is accepted, sir. You are forgiven; however, ..." and her voice took on a teasing note, "...it would be very remiss of me to forget the offence and thus lose the opportunity to tease and plague you about it in the future which you can be assured I will do."
Darcy smiled, obviously not offended, as he replied, "I admit I like being teased by Miss Elizabeth Bennet and hope to give you many opportunities in the future."
"Nevertheless, Mr. Darcy, I admit to being puzzled as to why you would express yourself so ungraciously. Nothing I observed in your subsequent behaviour would support such behaviour."
Darcy walked in silence for several minutes before replying, "I cannot say for certain. I admit I had attended with some reluctance and to learn that my income and worth, as measured by such, was common fodder for discussion within minutes of my appearance, was…very distasteful. I admit it happens in London but more discretely, I assure you. I knew no one outside my own party and those to whom I was introduced did not recommend themselves to me. I am afraid Sir William and your mother did naught but exacerbate my discomfort." He paused and Elizabeth could see him scrutinizing her countenance. She hoped that he could detect no censure since she felt none. She could easily understand the reaction of a well-bred man to the improprieties of one and the foolishness of the other. She thought to reassure him saying, "I can well imagine your discomfort at both. I believe that I have become so used to both as to be somewhat oblivious to their behaviour."
Darcy obviously did not believe her entirely – she remembered that he had seen her embarrassment at her mother's behaviour on several occasions – but did not comment further as he continued with his explanation, "Well, as I said, I was not in a happy mood which was derived also from my concerns about my sister. While I was visiting Netherfield to assist Bingley, I was also separating myself from Georgiana – at Mrs. Annesley's recommendation – since my sister found my concern somewhat…smothering, I believe Mrs. Annesley said. In any event, I felt obliged to attend the assembly but did not wish to dance. I confess that if I had not attended, Miss Bingley would also have remained at Netherfield and that was a prospect I did not wish for. Unfortunately, Bingley, who is everything amiable and sociable, sometimes presses on me severely. That evening was one such time and I found his admonishments to be extremely bothersome. That I lashed out so unfairly, so unjustly as to insult you or any other young lady, shames me. I cannot…"
"Enough, Mr. Darcy. Your penance is complete. I have accepted your apology but I wish you to accept mine. I spoke most unkindly of you and to you afterwards and my behaviour was no less improper than yours. Let us leave this topic for now and think on those which should prove more enjoyable. What think you of Milton's Paradise Lost?"
The remainder of their walk was spent on less personal subjects and their preferences in literature were explored as were those books that had been read recently. If both realized a need to step back towards less emotional topics, the subjects and books discussed were of interest to both. That differences of opinion would exist was to be expected, although they found agreement on more than either expected. When disagreements were discovered, Elizabeth was pleased to discover that he was prepared to listen with respect as she defended her position. All too often it had been her experience that men – no matter how poorly educated or lacking in intelligence – were inclined to be dismissive of her opinion simply because of her sex. She had perceived Mr. Darcy's respect for her opinions when at Netherfield, but had been inclined to give him little credit for it. Now, she did and their discussions gained by the freedom and respect that he afforded her.
Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, their discussion of books did not survive the impingement of several young persons clamouring for attention - albeit in a most genteel manner under the stern eye of their governess. Darcy and Elizabeth shortly found themselves engaged in entertaining, and being entertained by, her young cousins until they all returned to the Gardiner home. If Miss Margaret was content to walk beside Mr. Darcy in such a demure fashion as to raise a carefully hidden smile from Elizabeth, her sister was a veritable font of questions most of which were also directed at Mr. Darcy. Prominent amongst them were whether he was to marry Cousin Lizzy or why was he so tall? Darcy appeared to take it all in stride and, while his customary reserve was intact, Elizabeth thought it was slightly softened when addressing her cousins.
Darcy had been invited to dinner and the evening passed in an agreeable fashion. It also set a pattern for future dinners inasmuch as the two oldest children sat with them to eat and Darcy, encouraged by their manners, had no reservations about asking to include his sister in future, invitations which met with general approval.
