Page 17 of May I Have the Pleasure
He sighed, reflecting that if it wasn’t for bad luck he’d have no luck at all. He started out fuming about his fate, but after a few moments’ reflection, he thought it might be more efficacious to quit whingeing and recognise the golden opportunity that had just been dumped in his lap and take advantage of the situation. He had been giving considerable thought to how to slightly improve the younger Bennet sisters for weeks, and this seemed too good an opportunity to waste.
“That man has been the bane of my existence foryears. I cannot tell youthe worstthings about him, but I will tell you what I can, and then I shall tell your fathers the rest. They will decide how much to share with you. Is that agreeable?”
The ladies looked frustrated by the restrictions, while Darcy gave some thought to how close to the edge of propriety he was willing to skirt to teach the lesson. He decided to start with the easy part.
“I suppose he told you my father was the best of men… he stood as godfather… we played together as boys… he treated him like another son… sent him to school and Cambridge—that sort of thing?”
“Yes,” the three answered breathlessly.
“He probably asserted I was jealous of my father’s attention to him. If he was feeling particularly plucky, he might even have speculated my father liked him better than me, since I am such a stick in the mud.”
The ladies frowned at the precision of his assertions, completely unable to conceive of the amiable Mr Darcy as a stick in the mud. In the end, their minds could not go so far, so they just nodded in lieu of saying something silly.
“At that point, I assume he told you I denied him a living that my father left in his will.”
The three gasped, and Darcy thought about just telling them the real story, but then decided it might be his best chance to teach them a lesson.
“Have you spoken to your uncle about it? He is an attorney, after all, so he should be an expert on wills.”
“No,” they all said, looking slightly chagrined.
“You may do so later, but for the moment, let us do an experiment that you may find instructive.”
“All right,” they agreed rather unenthusiastically, probably disdaining the idea of instruction on principle.
“You said there was—what was the phrase—truth in his looks. Suppose you heard the same story in a letter from someone you did not know, or someone like Mr Chamberlain gave you the same tale? What would you think?” he asked, picking the most untrustworthy looking officer in the militia (though he knew no evil of the man).
Miss Lydia surprised him by asking a good question. “In that scenario, would we know you well?”
“I have been uncharacteristically amiable this trip for a few reasons, so let us assume you are acquainted with me, but do not know me well.”
They thought a few minutes and Miss Maria ventured, “I suppose we would not really know, would we?”
“That is correct! To your credit, you came to the source with your questions, but if you did not know me well, or perhaps did not even like me, how could you proceed?”
They chewed that over a bit, though the idea of disliking Mr Darcy was nearly impossible to fathom.
Miss Catherine finally said, “I suppose we should look for holes in the story or ask someone we trust for advice.”
“EXCELLENT!” Darcy said quite happily, since it was possibly the most sensible thing he had ever heard from the girl, who seemed like she might not be beyond amendment.
The three beamed in pleasure as if they had all come up with the answer themselves.
“Try to think of some questions you might ask,” he suggested gently.
Miss Lydia volunteered, “The man looks older than my cousin, Mr Collins. He is not exactly a fount of wisdom or even sensible, and he has no connexions, yet he has a living while Mr Wickham, despite the education your father bestowed, and his connexions to your family, is not even a curate and might not even have taken orders.”
“Good observation,” Darcy asserted. “I can tell you heshouldhave finished university five years ago, and a lieutenant in the militia makes less in a year than your cousin does in a quarter just from marrying and burying.”
“How is it that he is just a lieutenant, less than a week into his career, after five years?” Miss Maria asked in some confusion.
“Another excellent question.”
Getting into the spirit of things, Kitty asked, “Longbourn is entailed, and even though my father is indolent but very well educated, he says he can do nothing about it. How would you disregard your father’s will, when my father cannot even thwart his great-grandfather’s, even at the risk of his family becoming destitute?”
“How would you think?” he asked gently.
She shrugged. “Only if you were very dishonourable.”
