Page 2 of May I Have the Pleasure
I had to admit, he was fearsomely handsome when he did smile, which could explain his typical stern face. I imagine if he smiled as much as Jane or Mr Bingley, he would be fighting off the ladies of thetonwith an axe.
Surprisingly enough, even though we had possibly been in each other’s company for all of two minutes, it felt like it had been longer, and somewhat… well… I would not saypleasant, but certainlyless unpleasantthan our interactions usually were.
He surprised me yet again. “I will presume the service you require is not dishonourable, since it is well beyond my capability to imagine you engaging in anything like that. If you are willing to trust me with your request, I will accept it, deny it, or suggest an alternative; but I will keep it in the strictest confidence and will not censure you in any way.”
Ordinarily, the offer to keep a conversation in confidence would not be considered anything unusual among friends or even casual acquaintances, but it had to say something about our peculiar acquaintance that I found him offering the most rudimentary levels of gentlemanly behaviour surprising.
It took me a few minutes to realise that aside from one churlish statement he made at the very beginning, he had actually been perfectly polite most of the time. He was odd and frequently distant and unapproachable, but nothing had ever actually shown him to be dishonest or immoral. In fact, even though he had grievously wounded my vanity at the assembly that first night, I had to grudgingly give him some credit. He might not think much of me, but at least he was honest, and that was worth something in our society where nobody was ever allowed to say what they really thought, and subterfuge was the coin of the realm.
It took me a few seconds to make my decision, and he once again raised in my estimation by simply awaiting my pleasure, showing neither boredom, nor indecision, nor any other negative feeling. At long last, I decided that I would just trust him.
“Mr Darcy, I need …” I began nervously, then paused as the moment of decision was upon me, and then decided to trust him to be a gentleman. “… someone to request my first set. It must be someone insignificant—a man who would not raise any …”
I paused and felt heat on my face. “…unrealistic expectationswith it being the opening dance. That obviously excludes you, but nearly anyone else would do.”
Once again, I found myself staring at my shoes, now only glancing up periodically at his reaction. From his expression, I had to guess that he was perplexed.
He replied relatively quickly. “I admit to being somewhat confused. If you wish to be asked for the first set, all you need do is walk into the ballroom. Were you not here talking to me, you no doubt already would have been solicited.”
This left me at the point where I had to actually finish the sentence.
“I need somebody to request the set…retroactively.”
His look of perplexity continued for another moment, and then I saw his eyes light up with understanding. I wondered what he would do with such an unusual request, but he did not leave me waiting long.
“So, you wish to avoid dancing the first with someone who might have asked you recently?”
To this, I could only nod sheepishly. He now knew my shameful conduct. I was trying to avoid a dance without giving up dancing for the rest of the evening as the rules of propriety demanded, so it seemed likely I had declined using a lie.
His face become a little bit more, perhaps thoughtful, or pensive. He started to raise his finger, much like you wouldexpect of a tutor when proposing an idea or starting a new topic.
“Perhaps, we need aPropriety Fiction.”
At this point, I am quite certain my face showed pure confusion. “My apologies, but I have no idea what that is.”
He actually chuckled, which surprised me yet again. “Probably because I just invented it.”
The chuckle just left me confused, which he had to notice, as he lost the chuckle, but did not revert to his usual stern expression. Instead, his countenance was again soft and accommodating as he continued.
“I borrowed yet another concept from legal circles. In the law, they use a construct called aLegal Fiction. It is used for breaking entails, among other things. It applies where several parties wish to meet the strict requirements of the law, whilst going against the spirit. It consists of several parties agreeing that something istrue, even though it may not befactual.”
I was still confused, but since he seemed to have some idea of what we were discussing, I thought I might go along. So, it was an artful way to lie, but since it was an agreed practise, and everyone important knew the lie, it was acceptable. Confusing, but I would take it.
“That seems like a workable solution. I understand it is asking a lot, so are you willing to assist me? If not, I will need to… ask another,” I replied somewhat glumly. I was beginning to question why I was not just asking one of the men I had known all my life for the favour, but the cat was out of the bag, so I had to see it through.
Mr Darcy, to his credit, gave me a look that was at least neutral then surprised me by raising his right hand to just below shoulder level and looked over at a well-dressed servant who was presently speaking with Mrs Northcutt, Netherfield’s housekeeper.
The man broke off his conversation and walked over to us, then Mr Darcy curiously stated, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, this is Mr Smithson, my valet. He is the most discreet andtrustworthy man I know. Will you allow him to quietly do what must be done to relieve your plight?”
This line of reasoning was entirely surprising, but I was certainly amenable to any solution to my present dilemma, since I had given due consideration to breaking my own ankle just to avoid dancing the first with my cousin.ThatI would avoid at all costs.
Mr Smithson was the type of man who engendered trust. I have no idea how, or why, or whether it was an attitude that he was born with, or he had been trained into over many years, but he certainly seemed trustworthy enough to me.
I gave him a small curtsey, which was slightly out of character for a servant, but if he was willing to help me, I was certainly willing to show him respect.
Mr Darcy leaned down to whisper into his ear for a surprisingly short time, though after thinking a moment, I thought it couldn’t possibly take long to give him a name or two.
Mr Smithson in his turn, nodded a few times and turned to me. “You may leave it in my hands, madam.”
