Chapter 5

Fortunately for all involved Darcy's horse had missed being seen by Mrs. Bennet's carriage, sparing the neighborhood her wild imaginations, assumptions, and sporadic flutterings about Darcy's visit. Her mindset was similar to Lady Lucus, informing one's neighbors is not the same as gossip. None of the party ever knew the depth of misunderstanding they were thus spared, simply by the work of a few moments, owed entirely to Mrs. Bennet's distracted state and Darcy's urgency to flee.

As he traveled the lane towards Netherfield, Darcy witnessed Mrs. Bennet's carriage turn into Longbourne's drive. Thus the distraction from his feelings provoked him back to reason and away from the sensibilities that urged him to distance himself from the scene of his set down.

As his woolgathering drifted towards Mrs. Bennet, he begrudgingly confessed to himself that as mercenary as he viewed that matron, unlike the grasping, conniving women of the Ton, she had not pushed her daughters into towards him. Elizabeth was right. Even her mother wouldn't pair a daughter with Darcy. Whatever her flaws and fears for the future, she applied some standards beyond wealth to the hopes she harbored for her daughters, though what those standards were he knew not. That conclusion both humbled and wounded him. Whatever her aims for her daughters, he wasn't up to par, and their situation was dire indeed. Five daughters. An entailed estate. Almost no dowries. The urgency of their situation necessitated marriage with less regard to preference than many women of the Ton could enjoy, as a consequence of having some dowry to sustain them if they remained unwed. It mortified him and injured his already wounded pride, but disguise was his abhorrence, and in this, he could not deceive himself when faced with the consequence of his own behavior. He had been deemed unworthy by those desperate to retain their station in life. However bad her manners, Mrs. Bennet's morals were far above most he knew in a higher station in life.

Was Elizabeth right about the rest as well? Where only the most mercenary pursuing him? Was his behavior the reason? Were they the only ones turning a blind eye to anything to add to their own consequence? Was his behavior provoking the social climbers to a desperate forwardness, while driving off those who would value him beyond what Pemberly's coffers could afford them? Had this cold, calculated behavior that had slowly developed from shyness to haughty aloofness have caused exactly what he was attempting to learn to avoid? How had he failed to consider this?

His position in life afforded him many privileges but robbed him of a few basic needs. With the exception of Bingley and his Cousin, almost every friendship proved insincere. Those around him grasped and plotted, seeking to draw him into financial schemes and arranged marriages to rescue titled relatives from dire straits. For all of his consequences, he often felt worthless, knowing most of those who sought him in society did not do so for his company. Darcy, like most of an ill temperament, simply sought to avoid being wounded with little thought to the wounds he was inflicting.

As humiliating as an ill-bred set down was from an impertinent country miss, the veracity of her arguments and the humiliation at his own lack of understanding started to sink in. It was beginning to seem that it was his understanding found to be wanting, not hers. Far be it for him to fault her insightfulness when he often lamented the lack of intellect found in women of the Ton. He oft wondered why ladies who did possess intelligent minds, worked hard to conceal them, or worse wielded their intellect with cunning calculation towards their own aims with little thought towards the damage in their wake. They would ruin reputations, rob others of their hopes, and with cold calculation move themselves into positions to be revered by society.

Is that what he respected? Certainly not, he had always held it in contempt. Ironically though, it was by the same measure he had always held the Ton up as the standard all else was measured against. It was the society one must be welcomed in, in order to be of consequence and to live up to the legacy his parents had left him. One simply must be accepted to have a place in good society. To be beneath their notice would be to leave less importance to his children than he had been presented with by his own parents. That would be a failure indeed, to reduce a legacy instead of increasing it. Yet, what an odd notion, to compare everything to a society who held to a morality he abhorred.

Whatever he could accuse Elizabeth Bennet of, it wasn't self-interest. She certainly didn't simper and smirk, pretending agreement. If she were to be accused of something it ought to be self-respect. She hauled up his worst behaviors and challenged him to face them like a man. She had no designs on him, quite willing to call him out. Whatever the sting of his humiliation that morning, he respected her for her frankness, though he fled the house despising it not much more than a quarter of an hour ago. If he ever received approbation from her, it would be well earned.

And what of his effect on those in his society? Was he any better than those he despised? Elizabeth's arguments that caused him to recall his sister repeated in his head. She was right about that as well. Had she been of a different temperament, he truly could have dealt her a blow with his insults, for no more reason than his own discomfort in society. He meditated on how his sister, who already dreaded a season that was yet a few years off, would have reacted. It's unlikely she would have recovered. His much younger sibling would have convinced herself it was only her dowry that made her welcome in society, that everyone secretly thought what one man had spoken. She was already crippled with shyness and dreaded being pursued by fortune hunters. He'd had hoped to facilitate her confidence, to help her see she was worth far more to a husband than her 30000 pounds. But how could he do that if his views were also skewed?

Elizabeth, however, recognized the blame rested with his person, not with hers. Though her assertions strayed from reality, at the heart they were correct, in that he put his comfort above that of a young lady. No Gentleman deserving of the title would do so. It was becoming clear to him that he was given good principles but left to follow them in pride and conceit.

He knew how he had come to such erroneous conclusions previously, to think his behavior was perfectly acceptable, no one in town ever dared censure Darcy. They had too much to gain from his good opinion. The result, however, was that the mercenary forced their way into his notice, while the esteemable persons of his acquaintance retreated, and Darcy became further entrenched in his isolated position, viewing the world with cold contempt, excepting only those he was responsible for. To think he had thought that none censured him because he was beyond reproof, only added to the need for an unbiased voice in his estimation.

Darcy weighed all the benefits of change. Instead of dodging the pursuit of others, he could eventually find a woman worth pursuing. He needed to marry eventually, his most important responsibility was to pass Pemberley on to the next generation.

Truthfully, he knew not how to act. His interactions with women had always been limited to his dodging their advances. He wished for a wife that he could thus feel respect and affection for, though he wouldn't say he aspired to a love match. He had a duty first and foremost. His wife must be a member of the first circles and have a dowry, if not a title. Those were the expectations, anything else would be mocked and scorned. Society's sentiments would either elevate or alleviate the Darcy's role in society. His sister, his children, would either benefit from his marriage or suffer for it.

How was this muddled mess to be corrected? After years of entrenched isolation, others would take notice if he appeared more civil. How was he to take his place in society without raising expectations? If he started dancing more than was required, society would declare he was on the hunt for a wife. If he started conversing with his partners they would misinterpret his actions as interest. Darcy started to appraise the depth of the pit he had dug, and couldn't find a sensible way forward.

After arriving at Netherfield, he took his pen and began a letter.