Tue, Dec 3, 1811 – Longbourn, Hertfordshire


"I repeat, I will not marry that man."

Elizabeth stood tall, looking angry, but doing her best not to shout at her father.

For his part, the gentleman still had his blood up, and had no idea who he was angrier with. All they had to do was get through one ridiculous ball without scandal, and the sheep-like Mr. Bingley would likely take his eldest daughter off his hands. Collins would take the second eldest, and he would only be left with the three and his silly wife. As an added inducement, the one he had previously considered the most sensible (or perhaps least silly) daughter would eventually be the mistress of Longbourn. Instead, the entire ball had been a series of failures piled one on top of the other.

First his two youngest got thoroughly tap hackled and ran through the ball like madwomen, which admittedly was amusing in its own way, though hardly conducive to keeping the family in good standing. Then the middle child took to the pianoforte without being asked, played a ponderous bit of a funeral dirge, and tried to do a second. Then his idiot cousin Collins made some obscure sort of speech, if it could be called that instead of aimless babbling, which was amusing but embarrassing. Meanwhile, his wife spent supper bragging about how Jane would 'capture' the ever-elusive Mr. Bingley – loudly, and within hearing of Mr. Darcy.

To cap the evening off, his second, and now apparently stubbornest daughter, somehow, made some sort of assignation with the man she claimed to despise, who obviously had his own culpability. You would think a man hunted for sport every day of his adult life would have a better sense of self‑preservation. Then the whole night was capped by his wife screeching about a compromise, echoed by the rest of her gossipy sheep friends. All in all, every single member of the Bennet and Darcy families had conspired to destroy his peace permanently.

It never occurred to the patriarch to take any of the responsibility for the debacle on his own shoulders.

Barely containing his own ire, he snapped, "Elizabeth, you cannot deny that you were in an isolated corner with your future husband. If you do not like how it ended, do not blame others."

Full of righteous fury, Elizabeth yelled, "First off, it was not empty, and second off, he dragged me there! Look at this!"

With that, she rolled up her sleeve and showed the bruise in the shape of a large handprint that covered her arm just above the wrist.

"It was hardly isolated. There were plenty of people around when we arrived. They were perfectly visible, but far enough away to not overhear, which I assume was the so‑called gentleman's objective. He did not consult me on the maneuver."

Bennet looked at the bruise skeptically. "Am I to believe that he physically dragged you from the dance floor hard enough to raise a bruise, and you did not make a peep. You were apparently in that corner for several minutes before your mother caught you. Do not try to shift the blame to others."

Gasping in anger, she repeated yet again, "Mama made the whole thing up out of whole cloth. It is true Mr. Darcy was speaking quietly to me, but we had a respectable distance between us, and it is not as if we were in another room. The bruise must have come after Mother's assault, or else I would have been the one screaming. He most likely just reacted badly to the screeching."

"So, you are telling me that you were just 'talking', and your mother and her cronies just 'made up' the observed kiss, and then Mr. Darcy manhandled you hard enough to bruise your arm? You expect me to believe that?"

"I expect you to believe the truth!"

Bennet felt like he had endured all the bad temper he wanted for the day, so tried to speak reasonably.

"Lizzy, you know how it works. You are compromised. He has made an offer of marriage. Granted, it is the stingiest marriage contract ever written, but you are a clever girl. You will talk him back into good humor eventually. Nobody can stay angry at you forever."

"I did nothing wrong! I will not be punished for the rest of my life for someone else's crimes."

Losing patience himself, Bennet snapped, "Bah! Bah! Boo, Hoo, Hoo! You think you will be the first wife with a disagreeable husband? Will you punish all your sisters for your transgressions? Would you prefer Collins?"

"They are not my transgressions. They are yours, and your wife's."

Smashing his fist on the desk, he growled, "Nevertheless, if you do not marry him, your sisters will never make a match."

Equally angry, Elizabeth slammed her own palm on the same desk, and shouted, "They could too! It just would not be the match you and mother dreamed would fall out of the sky with no effort on your parts. You could have them all married in a year to honorable farmers, merchants, or tradesmen, if you would set your sights on something achievable, and enlisted the help of your only sensible relatives. Perhaps our reputation in Meryton is tainted, but it was not very good to begin with, and there are no eligible men in this accursed village anyway! There never have been!"

"So, they are supposed to settle for tradesmen or farmers because you are too high in the instep to accept one of the richest men in England and do your duty to your family?"

"YES! My experience so far indicates tradesmen on average make better husbands than gentlemen anyway."

By that point, father and daughter had both stood up from their chairs to lean across the desk and yell at each other from only a foot or two. Both had their blood up, and neither seemed inclined to give an inch.

Lowering his voice to a menacing growl, Mr. Bennet reiterated, "It is done, Elizabeth! The marriage contract is signed! I will call the first banns on Sunday. You will marry that man on the twenty-third of December, and you will work out a way to live in harmony with him, or else suffer for your own stupidity like the rest of us."

Elizabeth gasped. "Live in harmony with a man who will not even speak to me? Live in harmony with a man who did this to me? Who is apparently offering the smallest morsel of support he can get away with? He did not even have the grace to ask for my hand, or say anything the least bit polite, after he asked you."

Elizabeth raised her bruised arm in emphasis.

"Nevertheless, you will marry him. He did not need to ask you. Need I remind you that you are still a minor, and I control your marital status."

Elizabeth growled furiously. "I will not!"

Becoming tired of the entire endeavor, the patriarch said, "I am done with this discussion. Go to your room and stay there until you can comport yourself in a civilized manner."

With that, he plopped down into his chair, picked up a book, and held it in front of his face high enough to cover his presently most vexing daughter.