Chapter 3
A/N: I had so much fun writing this chapter. It practically wrote itself. There is SO much contradiction! Don't believe me? Read it yourself and reference the book! You'll probably find more incongruities than I've already spotted.
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"We reach another odd part of the letter as it concerns our dear gentlemen," Miss Austen related. "I am especially eager to hear your thoughts on this matter."
She turned her attention to the words on the page: "Although your friend is a kind and … energetic person, I prefer a man who knows what he wants, one that deliberates things rather than going through life on a whim. I want a man of reason, of knowledge – your friend does not read. I want a man who knows his duty (not like my own father) – your friend let himself be persuaded and left me behind without a second thought."
Miss Austen set the paper down, barely able to contain her mirth. She looked to Charles, whose rosy complexion bordered rage and Darcy, his frown decidedly pointed down. "How do you get on with such an account?" She asked both gentlemen.
Bingley spoke first, "Well, it seems, my dear," he said to Jane, "that you are selfish and deceitful as I am indecisive and unreasonable, at least on paper."
"Darcy?"
"Well, the lady is offering more proof of how little she knows of us."
"Charles," Miss Austen began with an amused smile. "Apparently you cannot read."
"Apparently so," said he, as he glanced at his copy of the letter. "What a pity given how much resources my father spent towards my education."
"It is pitiful that Miss Brady failed to notice that particular description of your character, Charles. I recall distinctly sharing that you were by no means lacking in intelligence, only Darcy is more clever as you are his superior in propriety.
"Anyway, let us continue to the heart of the matter," she said and picked up the letter. "This is where the contradictions settle unpleasantly. That Jane says she wants a man who knows what he wants, one that deliberates things rather than going through life on a whim."
"It is as you say," Jane Bingley began. "A bouquet of contradictions. Anyone with some form of understanding knew the purpose of Charles acquiring the lease to Netherfield."
"I recall sharing the reasons that led to your arrival at Netherfield, Charles. But Miss Brady might disagree, after all, she has proclaimed to know better than I about my own work! Perhaps you can remind us."
Mr. Bingley nodded and thus began. "It was my father's dream and purpose in life that we - that is Caroline, Louisa, and myself - join the gentry and I become a man of property. He spent his life towards such a goal but did not live to fulfil it. Hence my coming to Hertfordshire and Darcy's company. I knew what I wanted: to honour my father's legacy and his sacrifice."
"Miss Brady's Jane must have discarded that account entirely and is blinded to your reasons for coming to Netherfield. You went to fulfil your duty, to fulfil your father's dreams," she said as Bingley nodded in agreement. "Another factor we should not fail to address is your youth, Charles. You had recently come into your inheritance. You were no older than a child who happened to be born at the turn of the 21st century."
"I was two and twenty," he recalled.
"Exactly so!" Miss Austen exclaimed. "To be frank, you were no more than a boy when you came into your inheritance. Now compared in light of modern times, your situation would be no different to that of a young individual left with the equivalent of £10 million by his parents at the age of twenty. The inheritance is not in a trust or tied to land or some property but exists in the bank ready to be used or abused at his or her discretion.
"Additionally, if we are to continue in the same vein, the £5,000 per year is the equivalent of almost £400,000. A generous sum to live off, I dare say. Now, I am well aware that I am no parent, yet I would think it wise of anyone who was in the same circumstance as you to seek out the advice and help as you did of Darcy. His circumstances were not so different at that age would you not agree?"
"The only difference I would note is that I was raised to become the next master of Pemberley, those teachings were ingrained in me since I was a young boy," Darcy replied, "and the other factor is that I became a guardian to Georgiana when she was much younger than Miss Bingley."
"Nevertheless, a trying time for both of you to find your feet and become steady in your new situations," Miss Austen remarked. "But again, Darcy, you were at an advantage. Becoming Master of Pemberley was a birthright and a role you were trained to assume as you did after your father's passing. Charles' situation was vastly different from yours."
Darcy concurred with Miss Austen's assessment, "it was easier as time went on and I had of course my steward, Mrs. Reynolds, and my cousin Fitzwilliam to assist me with my duties. In joining Bingley at Netherfield, I was only offering him the same help and advice I received when I was in that situation five years prior."
"Well," Charles sighed, "a great many think my reliance on you, Darcy, at that time, as a weakness of mine."
"Well, they are wrong." Jane Bingley reached collapsed their hands. "You were young then and charting out new waters. It is no weakness to seek help."
"Especially so, when it is to honour your father's legacy." Elizabeth added. "No, your actions were to be admired. As Jane says, there is no shame in asking for assistance."
"And I appreciated your faith in me," Darcy began, "though I hardly proved myself worthy of it at the time."
"Let us not get ahead of ourselves too quickly," Miss Austen said to Darcy. " We know the conditions which led Charles to come to Netherfield. I would want you to explain the conditions in which you first came to Hertfordshire. We all know that you are taciturn and give offence continually, but in Meryton there was a greater severity than your usual wont."
Darcy took a fortifying breath, "'Tis true. I came to Meryton not many weeks after the events of Ramsgate. I was angry and disappointed at Wickham, yes, but also myself for having left Georgiana vulnerable to his actions and myself for having failed to protect her."
"And how did this frame of mind - if you will - influence your actions in Meryton," Miss Austen asked.
"Oh greatly, I was determined that I would not fail Charles in the same way I had failed Georgiana."
"Hence your displeasure with everything and everyone from the people of the locale to the surrounding environs. You were adamant that Charles would not fall prey to any fortune-hunters and you would save him, even from himself. Even if it came about through lies and machinations."
"Yes."
"You meant well, though not the method you went about it was not honourable. Your actions were not guided by 'reason or knowledge.'"
"No, I was guided by fear and my own selfishness at the time as I wanted to prevent a closer attachment indirectly to Elizabeth. If Miss Brady's Jane is looking for a man who exercises either 'reason or knowledge,' I immediately disqualified myself."
"What is equally surprising is that Jane is so willing, eager I dare say to absolve you, Darcy of your faults while painting Bingley in a worse light," Miss Austen observed.
"It is one of the more obvious incongruities, why would Jane despise Bingley given the contents she now knows of Fitzwilliam's letter?" Elizabeth said. "Charles was the injured party and he remains ignorant of the events. Furthermore, given the account, he still held Jane in high regard."
"Perhaps, another oversight from that Jane and Miss Brady," Miss Austen concluded.
"I knew that your affections were still engaged." Darcy shared, speaking to Bingley. "Hence the reason for my duplicity at the time."
"And lack of remorse," Elizabeth spotted.
"It is utterly hypocritical and speaks of a mercurial tendency for that Jane to lay all the fault on my door solely and disregard entirely the actions of my sisters and Darcy as they all worked against me," Bingley shared.
"What I find more exasperating is the discrepancy of it all," cried Jane Bingley. "It defies logic to despise my husband while praising a man who detests all that I am and all that I hold dear."
"I believe defying logic is Miss Brady's most adamant attempt, my dear," Miss Austen tried to comfort her before she continued: "but we will return to that discussion at a later time. This segment, I am also eager to examine. Miss Brady's Jane goes on to share that she is - and I quote, 'not blinded to your good qualities.'"
Miss Austen looked up, the parchment hiding the smile that threatened to turn into laughter. "Pray, Darcy do tell - what are these admirable qualities you displayed whilst in Hertfordshire?"
"My arrogance? Aloofness? The general incivility I proudly displayed? Are those the qualities Miss Brady is describing?"
"Oh there is more! Here allow me. That Jane says: There are many things to admire about you although you do not show yourself to the world." Miss Austen released the paper to the table as her laughter echoed across the room.
Bingley shook his head, stupefied. Jane Bingley blushed with embarrassment while Elizabeth's own mirth spilled forth. Darcy sat, his ears tinged red.
"My goodness, I do wonder where that Jane received her powers of astuteness to spot your mask, Darcy." Miss Austen shared. "Dear heavens! Will wonders never cease."
"If Miss Brady's aim is to disappoint, she is succeeding spectacularly," Elizabeth quipped.
When they had shared more chuckles and a few more bursts of laughter and wiped tears from their eyes as a result of such silliness, they pursued the rest of the letter, albeit now with lighter spirits.
Miss Austen read the last portion and discarded the parchment back to the table as they all released a collective sigh.
"Good G-d we are finished," Darcy cried. "I hope to never read such appalling drivel again."
"Well, I am sorry to say, given this sample before us you will sorely be disappointed. Unfortunately, this lady is determined to make a mockery of my work. And will not take such an offence with indifference. I am kind enough to set the record right."
"The latter portion was mortifying in every way." Darcy stated. "What sort of person goes on to relate such intimate details of their lives and thoughts to a complete stranger?"
Beside him Elizabeth echoed similar thoughts, "It reminds me of Wickham that evening at my Aunt Phillips when he related his affairs so soon after making our acquaintance."
"Jane?" Miss Austen called to her. "What did you think of the remaining segment of the letter?"
"Utterly abysmal. Why would I recommend myself to a man I hardly know? Again, I reiterate, why should I talk ill of my sister? Promote myself to a man who never desired my company. It is unseemly."
"It is no different than the behaviour Caroline often displayed whilst we were at Netherfield," Bingley noted. "And what Darcy was was accustomed to in society. Hardly a way to attract the attention of fine men."
"No, I consider such comportment to be demeaning," Darcy concluded.
"Miss Brady thinks it is the golden pathway towards winning your heart," Elizabeth teased her husband.
"Then she is wrong. I spent nigh a decade fighting fathers, mothers, and daughters who acted in such hoydenish ways. Miss Brady's Darcy must be a weak, pitiful creature to fall for such trickery."
"My dear Darcy," Miss Austen smiled in commiseration, "weak and pitiful are hardly apt descriptions with which to portray the caricature Miss Brady has made you out to be."
Darcy groaned at such a report, "Then she is beyond redemption."
"And I am of a mind to concur with such an opinion."
References:
1. Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in spite of great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy's regard Bingley had the firmest reliance, and of his judgment the highest opinion. In understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being liked wherever he appeared, Darcy was continually giving offence. (P&P, Ch 4)
2. Mr. Bingley had not been of age two years, when he was tempted by an accidental recommendation to look at Netherfield House. He did look at it, and into it for half an hour, was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately. (P&P, Ch 4)
3. Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county; but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to purchase. (P&P, Ch 4)
4. With assumed tranquillity he then replied: "I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself." (P&P, Ch 34)
5. But, however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose that it would ultimately have prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the assurance that I hesitated not in giving, of your sister's indifference. He had before believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal regard. But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my judgement than on his own. To convince him, therefore, that he had deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuade him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I cannot blame myself for having done thus much. There is but one part of my conduct in the whole affair on which I do not reflect with satisfaction; it is that I condescended to adopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from him your sister's being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bingley; but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. That they might have met without ill consequence is perhaps probable; but his regard did not appear to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some danger. Perhaps this concealment, this disguise was beneath me; it is done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject I have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your sister's feelings, it was unknowingly done and though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not yet learnt to condemn them. (P&P, Ch 35)
