Thanks for the responses to chapter one of The Talk. Here is chapter two, hope you enjoy. I do not own Pride and Prejudice. Cheers!
"Pardon, Mama?"
A very confused Lizzy Bennet asked of her mother. She looked to her sensible aunt for confirmation of what she had just heard.
"Do not look to my sister, Lizzy, for it was her idea in the first place you know," Mrs. Bennet informed her daughter. Elizabeth and Jane exchanged incredulous glances again. Ten minutes previously, they had walked into Longbourn with Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. Upon their arrival, they were separated from the men by Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner, with no explanation. That is, until they were well out of earshot from them. Mrs. Bennet turned to her favorite daughter, who had turned as pale as a sheet upon hearing about the knowledge that was about to be bestowed on the two eldest of the Bennet sisters.
"Jane, dear, you must know," Mrs. Bennet comforted her oldest daughter, "After all, men of Mr. Bingley's and Mr. Darcy's station are in want of nothing but an heir!" she laughed. This statement really did nothing to comfort the docile Jane, and Lizzy squeezed her hand, silently telling her to just bear with the conversation that was about to arise. Mrs. Gardiner decided it was time to try and comfort her two nieces. Lizzy was being uncharacteristically quiet, and it was quite unnerving.
"Girls, do not worry about how untoward or improper this conversation will be. It is something every woman must be informed of before her wedding," she pause, smiling, "Beside the fact, Mr. Gardiner is speaking to Bingley and Darcy at this very moment too!" she said, hoping that the information that they were not alone would comfort them. Far from it Lizzy exclaimed:
"Our future husbands are being lectured on marital relations by our uncle? Good heavens, Darcy will be incapable of looking me in the eye for the next year! Never mind on the evening of our marriage!" while Jane blanched further still at the thought. Lizzy glanced at her sister, "Jane dear, you and Bingley complement each other very well. I am sure that at this moment he is turning quite red at the thought of you not being able to look at him."
Three men sat in the sunny parlor of Longbourn decidedly staring at the embroidery Mrs. Gardiner had left on the table a few minutes prior. Darcy and Bingley had a general idea of what might be coming, and were not looking forward to it one bit.
Mr. Gardiner, not even ten years his senior, sat on a chair across from the gentlemen. He cleared his throat, preparing to speak.
"My wife-"
"Good God man, do you mean to drive us away?"
Bingley jumped a little bit, not even allowing him to finish a sentence. Darcy rolled his eyes at his friend. Today, for the first time since Cambridge, did he feel the space of three years that separated them. This was not to say that he was wholly comfortable with this conversation himself.
"Are we going to allow Mr. Gardiner to finish a single sentence, Bingley?" he drawled to his friend, feigning the indifference he so dearly wished he felt. Bingley blushed, a little bit. One of many to come within the next ten minutes, I am sure, he thought to himself.
"Mr. Gardiner," he nodded his head toward the man, who looked equally daunted at the task of speaking on this particular topic.
"As I was saying, my wife," he gave a pointed look to Bingley, who was looking anywhere but at Darcy or Mr. Gardiner, "has asked me to speak with you on a certain topic. I am quite sure, given your outburst Mr. Bingley, you have either deduced the nature of the conversation, or at least saw it coming," he finally finished the sentence.
All three men were looking down as Bingley and Darcy nodded.
"Is it…ah…wholly…necessary?" Darcy asked, trying to keep a straight face and voice. Mr. Gardiner, in the same tone, said:
"Mrs. Bennet surely seems to think so, as she is…er, lecturing Elizabeth and Jane at this moment," he said awkwardly.
"Good God. I shall not be able to look Elizabeth in the face for a fortnight," Mr. Darcy said under his breath, so only Bingley could hear. Bingley shook his head, like a dog trying to rid his ears of water.
"You shall not be able to look at Elizabeth? Jane shall not be able to look at me for the rest of our lives!" he exclaimed, blushing yet again at the prospect of facing Jane after this miserable conversation. Mr. Gardiner looked on the gentlemen with pity. This was decidedly the most trying conversation he had ever held.
"Surely- I mean, - surely you do not need a great amount of instruction?" he said quickly, trying to rid his mouth and brain of all thoughts as fast as possible. He chose to interpret the open mouthed stares of Darcy and Bingley as 'yes's and continued.
"That is not to say," he broke off awkwardly, looking around the room, "You two are, erm, not chaste?"
Mr. Gardiner silently cursed himself for his poor correction of his unintentional insult. Surprisingly, Bingley recovered first.
"Yes- I mean, sort of, that is to say, um, mostly," he stumbled. Well, it was a recovery for Bingley. His face was hardly two shades lighter than his hair.
Mostly? How in God's name are we mostly chaste? And why the hell is Bingley answering for me right now?
Mr. Gardiner was staring at the two gentlemen skeptically.
Merde. Darcy thought to himself, shaking his head. "I do not believe I can follow up Bingley's eloquent answer without appearing a fool," Darcy paused, smirking slightly, and continued, "However, I must concede to say that Bingley is at least correct in saying 'Yes,'" he finished determinately looking at his hands. Mr. Gardiner was now looking out the window, as if something dearly interesting were happening outside. He chanced a look at the two gentlemen again.
"I think- I mean, that is to say, Mrs. Gardiner thinks, that it is best if I tell you…," he said in a rush, a Bingley like blush gracing his face as well as the two others.
How we differ? A distraught Bingley thought to himself. Surely he is not serious. His distraught was clearly written across his face. He sent his friend a pleading look. Darcy rolled his eyes. It seemed that he was to be the one who said all things rational today. He took one look at Bingley, who was blushing profusely and probably trying to divert all thoughts from Miss Bennet, just as he was ridding his thoughts of Elizabeth. Mr. Gardiner continued to look around the room, and Bingley and Darcy followed suit.
Mr. Darcy found it upon his shoulders to speak.
"Mr. Gardiner, surely you do not expect that Bingley and I-" he was hurriedly cut off by the consistently red-faced Mr. Bingley, who said:
"No, Darcy. Do not include me in whatever 'Educated as a Cambridge man' speech you are about to make." This was the first sentence he had been able to utter without stuttering or blushing since they had entered the front parlor. Darcy raised an eyebrow at his friend, who continued.
"I mean, it is not as if…that is to say- um, well, it is quite, er, obvious?" he paused, looking at his friend for approval of his word choice, and continued when Darcy merely shook his head in confusion, "Er, obvious how men and women…erm, are not similar?" he finally finished his mess of a sentence. Mr. Gardiner decided it was time to put them out of their misery. Himself included.
"Gentlemen, I will be frank with you right now. As terrifically trying this is for you, imagine how it is for me, having to speak to you about my nieces?" he up talked, as if he was still unsure of his words. He continued nonetheless, "Jane and Elizabeth," both men turned red, as it was the first time their respective fiancées had been mentioned through this entire conversation, "have been trained their entire lives to live under the rules of propriety. Do not mistake me. This is a good thing, but it means that…er…on your….er….wedding night," here, Bingley started to cough violently and Darcy absent mindedly took a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to him. They waited until Bingley started to breath normally again.
"By all means, continue," the red haired and faced man said without conviction. Darcy rolled his eyes as Mr. Gardiner continued.
"Er, well yes. On your wedding night," he threw a sharp look at Bingley, "Do not frighten them. I guarantee they will be frightened, and anything you try to say will be twisted into something to be held against you years down the road," he shook his head, and Mr. Darcy guessed that he was telling them this from experience.
"Also," he continued, wringing his hands together and staring at a painting on the opposite wall, "It will hurt for them," he broke off, looking as uncomfortable as the two younger gentlemen. Bingley made a squeaking noise in the back of his throat. "It is just something I thought you ought to know," his face finally relaxed, and Darcy took that as a good sign that this conversation was about to end.
"I think, you will figure out the rest for yourselves, gentlemen," and he stood up abruptly, bowed, and quickly strode out of the room. Darcy made to get up. Bingley sat motionless on the couch.
"Well, that could not have gone any worse," Darcy said, shaking his head slightly. Bingley finally looked up, and they both started to leave the room, having no desire to return any time in the near future. As they were leaving, Bingley said:
"Yes, the only thing that could make this experience worse is seeing-" he was cut off by the sight of two figures a few feet down the hall. The two men abruptly stopped, as did the two Bennet sisters. Jane was blushing profusely, matching Bingley. Elizabeth was determinedly avoiding his eyes. Darcy started to speak, once again finding that it was his responsibility to diffuse the situation.
"Well, I think it is in the best interest for both parties if Bingley and I were to return to Nether-" he was cut off by a nervous, blushing Bingley.
"Would you like to accompany us on a walk, Miss Bennet? Miss Elizabeth?" he asked hurriedly, as if he'd said it without thinking.
The three others in the hall gave him horrified looks, but could not deny the simple request without feeling quite rude.
Good God. Mr. Darcy thought as the two couples walked side by side, careful not to touch, and not saying anything, what in God's name did they discuss? Surely it was not half as awkward as our conversation. He and Elizabeth brushed elbows, very slightly. Elizabeth reddened, and Darcy did as well.
Bingley's paranoia has spread to all now, a slightly irate Mr. Darcy thought to himself, shaking his head as they continued in the most awkward walk of their courtships to date.
fear not, there will be a third installment, perhaps even a fourth if I feel the story hasn't wrapped itself up by then. We still need to hear about the girls' talk, don't we? Reviews are welcomed, and may even get me to update faster! just kidding. sort of.
-ifshoneydukes