Page 40 of May I Have the Pleasure
I am so giddy with happiness, it is taking a bout of iron-willed discipline to refrain from carrying on in that vein for another page or two, but alas you have asked for my help and advice, so I shall endeavour to provide it.
You do know after all the correspondence of the last year that I am probably the last person in the world you should turn to for advice, as I seem to be wrong at least half the time. Be that as it may, you have asked, and I will deliver; so long as you promise to pay more attention to your own council and that of your intended than anything I say.
After all the things that Mrs Bennet has said to you and about you since you were a girl (it did not start when I turned down Mr Collins, it had been going on for some time), I canwell understand your desire to have a dignified engagement and wedding, and I agree it would be impossible with Mrs Bennet’s involvement. It may sound mean spirited, but I think you can agree that it is a cold-hearted statement of fact. The woman is vulgar and crass, and anything she touches will adopt that vulgarity. I would not suggest such a thing if you had not already asked, but since you have, then I do believe we must get you married without her interference.
That brings up some practical difficulties, and I have thought of several schemes to accomplish the goal. Being wed from Longbourn is clearly impossible, so we must dismiss it out of hand. That leaves your intended’s parish or Uncle Gardiner’s to choose from. You must also obtain consent to both wed, and to travel thither for the ceremony.
That brings us to the tricky part. In my new life in the world of business, I have learned to predict others’ behaviours somewhat by inferring from previous actions to understand their motives, and then judging which perceived course of action will best match their motivations and habits. It works a surprisingly robust percentage of the time, so we can apply that to the principals in this drama. As Shakespeare says,past is prologue.
Let us begin with the easiest: Mr Bennet. He will do the thing that causes him the least inconvenience or expense, regardless of the outcome. Did he not give that as his reason for allowing Lydia to go to Brighton? Has he not refused to check his wife or daughters for years just because it requires industry? Has he failed spectacularly to provide his daughters with dowries? Is Longbourn’s income even less than it was under his father?
I can confidently assert that he is the most reliable and predictable father in England. All you need do is present him with a fait accompli—a paper to sign that requires no effort or expense. He will sign it and go back to his book. In the end, obtaining theonlything you truly require from your parents, your father’s consent, should be easily accomplished.
Now for Mrs Bennet, things are easier. The simplest way to prevent her from interfering with your wedding is to prevent her from knowing it is happening until the deed is done. This may impinge on your sense of honour or propriety, but really it is the only way, and it is not as if the woman has earned any consideration. If you follow my scheme, you can console yourself that you are not actually lying to her. You are simply failing to inform—a mere oversight.
Here is my scheme, of which I have already taken the liberty of consulting Aunt and Uncle, and they agree.
I understand that your intended has by necessity travelled to his parish, to return when you are prepared. I applaud his sense of duty. It is yet another thing that speaks well of him, as if courting you during Lydia’s debacle were not enough for ten men.
For a man such as yours, nothing will do but to ask your father directly, so I suggest you have him write his proposed settlement and bring it with him. I will ask Uncle Gardiner to write a simple document turning you over to my employer, Mr Ellery’s protection. It so happens that I am travelling with Mr Ellery and his wife to within twenty miles of your intended’s parish in early November, so you shall simply travel with me. Once you have permission, your beau can read the banns for three weeks before we arrive. On arrival, I will stand up with you, unless you have someone else in mind.
I also believe attempting to prevent Aunt Gardiner and Mrs Ellery from buying you a trousseau would be an exercise in futility, so you may as well accept it with good grace. You will be travelling first to town, and thence to Derbyshire with Mr and Mrs Ellery and myself, so all the proprieties will be observed. All will be well.
I do truly hope you will accept this plan, but I have one more perhaps distressing component you should comply with. Unless Mrs Bennet has changed habits considerably, she always takes the carriage to Lucas Lodge every Tuesdaymorning and stays all morning for gossip and chatter. If you truly wish to escape, you must have your beau at Longbourn right after breakfast, and once permission has been granted, you must quickly pack and leave before she returns. You may send her a letter when the deed is done.
I know the subterfuge will be distasteful to you, but it is either that or put up with her interference. You must decide which course is right for you.
Your inordinately proud and insufferably boastful sister,
Lizzy
Jane
10 November 1812
Gracechurch Street
Dearest Jane,
So, Mr Bingley is to return to Netherfield right after the Christmas season! I would find it shocking, except I have entirely lost the capacity to be surprised by anything to do with the Netherfield party or our family.
Since you have asked for my advice, I must repeat what I said to Mary. I have been wrong at least as often as right, so you must, in the end, accept your own council. However, since you have a few weeks before any chance of encountering the man, I will endeavour to write down my thoughts. To tell the truth, they have been circling round and round my head the last month, and I think I may be able to offer some insights that will be useful to you, although they will be quite painful.
I have spent nearly every idle minute since Lydia’s wedding, going over everything that happened in the last year, and trying my best to understand it. In Lambton, the only explanation I could come up was uncharitable in the extreme, but such was my state of agitation that I could do nothing else. I believe I have looked on Mr Darcy with a prejudicial eye at every opportunity since that first slight at the assembly, just over one year ago. Even when I asked Aunt and Uncle for their opinion, they took the story from my lips, and I can now see that I coloured the narrative to bend it towards my foregone conclusion.
Mr Darcy’s support of Lydia’s ill-fated marriage turned the tables completely, to the point where I could no longer trust or believe a single thought since the very beginning. After spending nearly every spare moment thinking about every interaction we ever had, I believe I have an explanation that makes much more sense, as it explains every single occurrence so much better than my rogue rake theory.
This is quite painful, but I can now remember exactly what happened at the ball in Netherfield last November as if it were yesterday, and in fact I believe I can remember everything that happened with the gentlemen, even the times you were sick at Netherfield.
At the ball, I now see clearly as a leaf under a magnifying glass, that I was downright rude to Mr Darcy simply because he had the temerity to ask me politely for a dance. After that, I proceeded to needle him about his conversation, and then abuse him by discussinganother man—his sworn enemy who has done him a great deal of harm, as it turns out. Worse yet, I gave him not the slightest opportunity to defend himself or turn the conversation to more pleasant topics.
At the time, I was oh-so-very-certain in my beliefs that our dislike was mutual that I failed to listen to perfectly wise council from both you and Charlotte! Now, I can see that he did not dislike me at all. Perhaps he even esteemed me. It seems obvious in retrospect that if he disliked me, he would not have singled me out as the only woman in Hertfordshire that he chose to dance with. I even turned the man down twice before that.
As if that were not enough, it gets even worse. My rudeness and lack of manners were quickly followed by Mrs Bennet screeching with all the power of her awful voice and vile manners about Mr Bingley’s £5,000 a year, how you would soon be mistress of Netherfield, and how he would then throw her daughters in the path of other rich men. I was mortified at the time, and Mr Darcy must have heard it. I begged and begged her to desist, and she insulted himdirectly and loudly. I can remember her exact words:"What is Mr Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear."
As if that were insufficient, Lydia and Kitty were thoroughly in their cups and embarrassing the entire room, and Sir William had the temerity to interrupt the dance to indicate only the date of Mr Bingley’s conquest was in doubt.
That last piece is vexing in the extreme, but Jane, I must point out that you are the most polite and genteel lady I ever met, and that means you were following the rules of propriety to the letter. I could perfectly tell you preferred Mr Bingley, and I felt he should be able to;but Mr Darcy could not, and a modest man like Mr Bingley might not be certain. Charlotte asserted that you were too subtle in your indications of your preferences, and I fear she may have been correct. Mr Bingley may be a very good man, but he did not have the strength of will to go against his sisters and his best friend and stand up against the combined might of a lady’s indifference and an obviously mercenary mother—who would?
