Gay Pride and Prejudice (48 page)

At night she opened her heart to Jane. Though suspicion was very far from Miss Bennet’s general habits, she was absolutely incredulous here.

“You are joking, Lizzy. This cannot be! In love with Caroline Bingley! No, no, you shall not deceive me. I know it to be impossible.”

“This is a wretched beginning indeed! My sole dependence was on you; no one else can know how it really is. Yet, indeed, I am in earnest. I speak nothing but the truth. She still loves me, and has proposed a manner in which we may always be together.”

Jane looked at her doubtingly. “Oh, Lizzy! It cannot be. I know how much you dislike Miss Bingley.”

“You know nothing of the matter.
That
is all to be forgot. Perhaps I did not always love her so well as I do now; but in such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable. And in fact, she is no longer Miss Bingley.”

“Do you mean—like Charlotte?”

“Not entirely.” And she proceeded to explain the complicated arrangement Caroline and Darcy were proposing. Jane, whose nature it was to look for the positive in any undertaking, at first could only stare at her sister in shock. But as Elizabeth went on, Jane’s countenance slowly lost its astonished appearance, and she even began to nod.

“It might work,” she said at last. “That is, if you are all of a mind to do so, this might be your only chance at achieving happiness. But are you certain, truly certain, that your feelings for Caroline are so great that you would be willing to marry a man you do not even like?”

“I believe they might be; but fortunately, that is not the case. I have grown to like Mr. Darcy far more than I ever had before, for reasons some of which you will soon comprehend.” Here at last was the inducement to confess to Jane the gentleman’s—and lady’s—involvement in Lydia’s marriage to Wickham.

Miss Bennet looked all amazement. “Good Heaven! Can it be really so?”

Elizabeth very seriously assured her it was.

“Now I must believe you,” said Jane. “My dear, dear Lizzy, I would—I do congratulate you—but are you certain? Forgive the question—are you quite certain that you can be happy with her?”

“There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us already, that we are to be the happiest couple in the world. But are you pleased, Jane? Shall you like to have such a sister and brother?”

“Very, very much. She is already destined to be my sister, and the addition of Mr. Darcy to the family could only give Charles more delight. Do you really like him quite well enough? Oh, Lizzy! Do anything rather than marry without friendship. Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought to do?”

“Yes. You will only think I feel more than I ought to do, when I tell you all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why, I must confess that I like Darcy better than I do Bingley. I am afraid you will be angry.”

“My dearest sister, now be serious. I want to talk very seriously. Let me know everything that I am to know, without delay. Will you tell me how long you have loved Caroline, and ceased to dislike Darcy?”

“Both have been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when either began. But I believe I must date my regard for the gentleman from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley.”

Another entreaty that she would be serious, however, produced the desired effect; and she soon satisfied Jane by her solemn assurances of genuine regard for both Caroline, her beloved, and Darcy, her possible betrothed. When convinced on that article, Miss Bennet had nothing further to wish.

“Now I am quite happy,” said she, “for you will be as happy as myself. I always had a value for Caroline. Were it for nothing but her love of you, I must always have esteemed her; and now, as Bingley’s sister and your beloved, there can be only Charles and yourself more dear to me. But Lizzy, you have been very sly, very reserved with me. How little did you tell me of what passed at Pemberley and Lambton! I owe all that I know of it to another, not to you.”

Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. She had been unwilling to mention Bingley; and the unsettled state of her own feelings had made her equally avoid the name of his sister. But now she would no longer conceal anything from Jane. All was acknowledged, and half the night spent in conversation.

***

“Good gracious!” cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window the next morning, “if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming here again with our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always coming here? I had no notion but he would go a-shooting, or something or other, and not disturb us with his company. What shall we do with him? Lizzy, you must walk out with him, that he may not be in Bingley’s way.”

Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so convenient a proposal; yet was vexed that her mother should be always giving him such an epithet.

As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her so expressively, and shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt of his feelings on the proposal being proffered.

“My dear Miss Eliza,” said he, “please accept tidings from my sister. She awakened with a head-ache this morning, but asks that if you are not too busy later, might you not be able to find time to visit her at Netherfield?”

“Certainly,” Elizabeth said, outwardly calm but inwardly excited at the thought of being alone with Caroline for the space of an entire afternoon. What luxury—the same as awaited them at Pemberley nearly every day ahead, should she marry Darcy.

Bingley inclined his head with a smile, and soon afterwards added, “Mrs. Bennet, have you no more lanes hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her way again today?”

“I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty,” said Mrs. Bennet, “to walk to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has never seen the view.”

“It may do very well for the others,” replied Bingley; “but I am sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won’t it, Kitty?” Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home. Darcy professed a great curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently consented.

As she went upstairs to get ready, Mrs. Bennet followed her, saying: “I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that disagreeable man all to yourself. But I hope you will not mind it. It is all for Jane’s sake, you know; and there is no occasion for talking to him, except just now and then. So, do not put yourself to inconvenience.”

They had not gone far down the lane when Darcy said: “And so, Miss Bennett? Caroline tells me that you and she had quite a tête-à-tête yesterday.”

“Indeed. She tells me that she is married to your friend, Monsieur de Laurent.”

He inclined his head. “A perfect match, if I may say so. As for the other matter, have you given it consideration, or would you prefer more time to weigh your options?”

“Come now, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “Surely you can ask for a woman’s hand in a more agreeable manner than that. You must know that all women dream of being proposed to in gallant fashion.”

“Even those with little interest in marriage?”

“Perhaps some among us.”

“In that case,” said Darcy, bowing deeply, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, will you do me the honour of accepting my proposal of marriage?”

“I will,” she said after only a slight pause; “on the condition that we openly acknowledge our union to be based on friendship and shared interest, entirely devoid of romantic love.”

“Of course,” he agreed, nodding at her with real warmth. “I must say, I am happy that you trust my intentions enough to agree to this alliance of our interests. I can assure you that you will be very well cared for and supported, and all of your material needs attended to, as my wife.”

“I do not have any doubts on that account.”

“I imagine, however, that was not always the case?”

“No more than it could have been on your side.”

“What luck that we have both allowed our mutual esteem to grow, then.”

“What luck, indeed,” said Elizabeth, looking up at him. His wife, she thought; my husband. Not words she had ever thought to utter in such proximity to Darcy’s name, let alone his person.

He offered his arm to her, and they walked on, both of their minds full of what her assent might materially mean. In any other situation, Elizabeth would have accepted her companion’s arm merely from politeness; but this morning she leaned rather heavily on her future husband as they discussed the details of their engagement. A week before she had had no idea of marriage to Mr. Darcy, but now it seemed to be happening quickly. She wondered if all brides-to-be felt the same curious sense of dislocation. Her future life had long been a mystery, open to interpretation and marked by a certain freedom of choice. But this was a decision that could not be undone without much pain and mortification; a decision that would decide the course of her entire life. And yet, she imagined herself at Pemberley with Caroline and Darcy and Rémy and Georgiana, with Jane and Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner as their frequent guests, and the tumultuous nature of her thoughts immediately quieted. This was the life she had only dreamed of having, and the man beside her was making it all possible. She had not lied to Jane, after all. Despite her early impressions, she really did like Darcy better than Bingley. Which was a good thing, given she had just agreed to marry him.

During their walk, it was resolved that Mr. Bennet’s consent should be asked after the mid-day meal. Elizabeth reserved to herself the application for her mother’s that evening. She could not determine how her mother would take it; sometimes doubting whether all his wealth and grandeur would be enough to overcome her abhorrence of the man. But whether she were violently set against the match, or violently delighted with it, it was certain that her manner would be equally ill-adapted to do credit to her sense; and Elizabeth could no more bear that Darcy should hear the first raptures of her mother’s joy, than the first vehemence of her disapprobation.

***

In the afternoon, soon after Mr. Bennet withdrew to the library, she saw Mr. Darcy rise also and follow him, and her agitation on seeing it rose commensurately. She did not fear her father’s opposition, but he was going to be made unhappy; and that it should be through her means—that she, his favourite child, should distress him by her choice—was an unhappy reflection, and she sat in silent worry till Mr. Darcy appeared again, when, looking at him, she was a little relieved by his smile. In a few minutes he approached the table where she was sitting with Kitty; and, while pretending to admire her work said in a whisper, “Go to your father; he wants you in the library.” She was gone directly.

Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and anxious. “Lizzy,” said he, “what are you doing? Are you out of your senses, to be accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?”

How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate! It would have spared her from explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give; but they were now necessary, and she assured him, with some confusion, of her affection for Mr. Darcy.

“Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine carriages than Jane. But will they make you happy?”

“Have you any other objection,” said Elizabeth, “than your belief of my indifference?”

“None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him.”

“I do like him,” she replied, “and he is in a position to offer me a type of happiness I doubted I should ever attain. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not know what he really is.”

“Lizzy,” said her father, “I have given him my consent. He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything which he condescended to ask. I now give it to you, if you are resolved on having this match. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing
you
unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are about.”

“But I do know, Father,” said she; “for we are absolutely equal in our affection toward one another, possibly even more so than Jane and Bingley. We have a perfect accord, and I do indeed esteem him. It pains me to think that you would worry about my contentment, so let me say this: My marriage to Mr. Darcy will afford me the means of obtaining genuine happiness.”

Her earnestness was evident to her father, and as he considered her language—she had not once claimed to love him, only to like and esteem him; the marriage would offer her the opportunity to be happy, not in fact make her happy in and of itself—another idea occurred to him: Elizabeth was marrying Darcy in order to realize the very arrangement he, her father, had hoped she would find. Who, then, was the lucky young lady? He flashed on the fashionable Miss Bingley, with whom Lizzy had walked away the previous day. Could it be true? Had Caroline Bingley fallen in love with his daughter? But then, why should she not? Lizzy may not be nearly as polished as Miss Bingley, but Mr. Bennet liked to think she offered considerably more wit and heart at once than any of the other young women he knew.

Which left only the question of Darcy’s role in all of this. Of course, now that he thought about it, Mr. Bennet believed he might have noticed something in the line of the young man’s breeches; perhaps a certain impudence in his gaze. If such were the case, then Elizabeth was likely to be far happier in her union to Fitzwilliam Darcy than Mr. Bennet had been in his own marriage.

“Are you certain, Lizzy? I want only for you to be sure before you make such a weighty decision.”

Elizabeth was earnest and solemn in her reply; and at length, by repeated assurances that Darcy was really the object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did conquer her father’s incredulity, and reconcile him to the match. To complete the favourable impression, she then told him what Darcy had done for Lydia, giving him the credit for Caroline’s contributions, as she could hardly reveal the lady’s support, much as she might wish to. Her father heard her with astonishment.