Page 33 of May I Have the Pleasure
Your confused sister,
Elizabeth
Pemberley
27 July 1812
Lambton, Derbyshire
Dearest Sisters,
I have had the most shockingly up and down day of my life, and ended up quite distressed, but paradoxically contented that all my previous confusion has been resolved. I now fully comprehend everything about our situation in all its particulars. I can think of no way to convey it except to relay the entirety of the day’s events in detail, in the hope that writing it all out will help bring clarity of thought and spirit. I apologise that the letter is so long, but I do not have time before the post to make a shorter one.
True to plan, we went to Pemberley and the look on Miss Bingley’s face was priceless. I believe both Darcy siblings may have a sense of humour as the Bingley sisters seemed to have no idea we were to attend.
The sisters exerted themselves to the usual level of civility, and they were shockingly forward, practically fawning over Miss Darcy. I am astounded they are not astute enough to detect that Miss Bingley’s intentions are completely transparent. Miss Bingley wishes to be mistress of Pemberley and sees Miss Darcy as her ticket. Unfortunately, they cannot see that their fawning sycophant behaviour just drives Miss Darcy deeper and deeper into a protective shell like a clam, until you can hardly get a single word out of her.
I am surprised Mr Darcy allows it, but I suspect he is simply exposing his sister to the type of behaviour she can expect when she comes out into society, as the poor girl must toughen up a little if she does not want to be eaten alive by theton. At least that is the explanation that seems to make the most sense.
Mr Darcy seemed like either an indifferent sportsman or diligent brother, because he presented himself to check on the ladies every half-hour. Since he never seemed inadequate as a sportsman in Hertfordshire, I had to conclude the latter was his motivation. Each time he appeared, he observed the room for a bit, conversed with a few assorted guests, and then returned to his sport, only to repeat the exercise a half-hour later. I cannot believe he caught a single fish. At this point of the day, I was quite prepared to give him credit for at least being a good brother, which even Mr Wickham would acknowledge.
The gentlemen returned from their sport in good time for luncheon, and the second and most vexingly confusing part of the day commenced. I was most curious to observe the relationship between Mr Bingley and Miss Darcy, as we so far have only Miss Bingley’s word on the subject.
An hour of close observation confirmed that it was simply Miss Bingley’s dream, as they have no more affection than any other indifferent acquaintances. I was a bit surprised they did not correct my parting statement from our first meeting, but I suppose there is no polite way to bring up such a thing.
Of course, that made me question my own judgement from January, when I concluded Miss Bingley was telling the truth just because I observed them in town, he was being polite, and Mr Darcy stared at me menacingly. I must own that even though I somewhat facetiously said back in January that I did not trust Miss Bingley, I must admit that even cynical me found it hard to believe she would blatantly lie straight to my face.
I really believe I must learn to examine my own bias in these matters, as I seem to be wrong about as often as not. Of course, all of that does not really change the fact that Mr Bingley left Jane alone in Hertfordshire with hardly a backward glance, but it did make me wonder at my own conduct here in Derbyshire. Why am I being amiable with the Darcys, considering Colonel Fitzwilliam’s disclosure in April, which seemed at least to be more reliable than anything to come from the superior sisters?
At this point in the day, I was conjecturing very charitably that perhaps Mr Darcy knew that Mr Bingley was an indifferent suitor and dragged him away to protect Jane. If that were the case, I can think of no way he could accomplish the task and still let us know it had been done with any sense of propriety. The duty of leave-taking fell to Mr Bingley, and he deferred it to his capricious sister. I was quite convinced that was the right of it and was beginning to feel considerably more warmth toward Mr Darcy.
During conversation, just before luncheon, Mr Bingley did try once again to hint around at the status of all my sisters, but I was in no more of a mood to indulge him than I was a few days ago, so I once again refused to answer a question he could not even work up the nerve to ask directly. I believe he left feeling frustrated—entirely to my satisfaction. You can see that I need not give up the mantle of the cruellest of the Bennet sisters, as I am practising the arts continuously; and of course, I have such able instruction from the superior sisters.
After luncheon, Mr Darcy offered to give us a tour of the house. Everyone joined as we went through the principal rooms, and we saw much what we would see if we had taken a public tour. The house is inordinately beautiful, matching Matlock in elegance and simplicity; and I found I like it very much indeed. Naturally, I also observed my companions and could see Miss Bingley mentally cataloguing all the things she would move toward the vulgar if she had any control over the décor, which was an amusement in its own right.
During the tour, Mr Darcy seemed to be going out of his way to drag out the endeavour, inserting sufficient detail of every feature to satisfy both my curiosity and our aunt and uncle’s; and clearly at least double what the superior sisters were capable of understanding or tolerating.
After the tour of the ground floor is where things began to get strange. By this time, the sisters were dragging, but of course those in my party are made of sterner stuff, so we were quite refreshed. Through some sort of signal or trickery, Mr Darcy convinced the Bingleys to abandon the tour in favour of refreshment. After they were gone, he unexpectedly offered to show us some of the guest rooms on the next floor. This was unexpected, but we acquiesced readily enough. The rooms were everything that you would expect, and I must say everything wonderful. I was quite surprised he took the trouble.
After the guest rooms were complete, Mr Darcy’s behaviour became even odder. He asked if Aunt and I would indulge him by advising him on the décor of a particular room. It seemed an odd request, but not sufficient to commit him to Bedlam, so we agreed while Uncle went to find the other gentlemen, since he has even less interest in decorating than I have in fishing (if you can imagine such a thing).
Miss Darcy naturally accompanied us, and we ascended to the next floor and over to the family wing. Mr Darcy showed us a room that was stunningly beautiful. The furnishings and colours were not currently fashionable, and the room appeared as if it had not been used in some time; but it had a timeless elegance that looked like it could stand the test of decades without strain.Its windows opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts which were scattered over the intermediate lawn.All in all, it was quite breathtaking.
Mr Darcy asked anxiously for our opinion, which seemed like the strangest thing he has ever done. I indicated that Icould not think of a single thing to change in the room, and Aunt agreed.
He seemed quite happy with the praise, so I exerted myself to ask what room it was, and nearly swooned when he indicated it was the mistress’ suite, vacant and unchanged these fifteen years since his mother passed.
It took me several moments to comprehend the honour of being shown the room, and then looking at Miss Darcy, I calculated her mother must have died in childbirth or soon thereafter. That means the poor girl never really had a mother. Perhaps the housekeeper or governesses performed the office suitably, but with no sisters and no mother, she must have had a difficult upbringing. After her father’s death, her brother and cousin could not have been much of an improvement over being raised by wolves.
At that time, I began to have a new and more charitable theory about Mr Darcy’s intent. I believed he could see his sister was shy, lonely, and thoroughly unprepared for society. I then suspected he wanted her to have a friend near her own age but somewhat older to possibly support her in the endeavour. She has a companion, but that is not the same as a friend; and I fancied myself the one that he had chosen to fulfil the office.
Perhaps the fact that I have never been the slightest bit impressed by his looks, wealth, manners, or position in society give me a certain air of respectability in his eyes; and of course, since it is obvious to the most casual observer that I am not setting my cap for him, he could consider himself completely safe.
The intimacy of showing his mother’s suite to us was not lost on me, and I was very conscious of the honour of having him want me to befriend his sister.
It all made complete sense! I must confess, at that moment I felt I could almost be friends with the man, and obviously, being friends with Miss Darcy is as easy as breathing. I felt quite content with the exchange and fancied that Miss Darcymight be as well. It was when we returned to the ground floor to take more refreshment, that things took yet another unexpected twist.
When we returned to the drawing room, I found I had another introduction in front of me. As you probably guessed, I was introduced to the infamous Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was apparently to visit for a fortnight. He was exactly as Jane described him in Kent, so I need not go through any tedious details about the next hour of idle conversation. He and Mr Bingley were having an amiability contest, with both talking much but saying little.
