Page 51 of May I Have the Pleasure
“What more could I possibly want?To warn you that Mr Wickham is slandering your name to everyone who will listen—without any real opposition; which you probably already know? To ask you to help me find a less stupid husband; which is an impossible task? To ask you to drag Mr Bingley away fromyoursister and return him tomine; which, even if it were possible, I would oppose for obvious reasons? I repeat; what more could I possibly ask?” Elizabeth snapped, showing far more vexation than Darcy expected.
“Excuse me!” he nearly shouted, jumping out of his chair; then thinking better of it, he sat back down, though without his customary elegance.
Elizabeth looked ready to jump up and flee, and even stood halfway up, but then fell back into the chair with a sigh.
“I apologise, Mr Darcy. I let my temper get the best of me. To answer your question simply… yes, I only came here to ask about your aunt. I have nothing further. I should leave…” she said, and then punctuated her words by standing up abruptly.
Darcy nearly panicked and jumped up to match her. “Pray, have a seat. I cannot blame you when I practically shouted at you, but I humbly request you allow me a chance to discuss this rationally.”
“Discuss what?”
“All of it,” he said with a sigh.
Discussing
Elizabeth stared at him for some time, and finally sat down, but she remained on the very edge of the chair looking ready to flee at the slightest provocation.
“I apologise, sir. I said far more than I intended, and more than was wise. I did not come here to fight. If you are willing to disregard what we said earlier and simply tell me about your aunt, I would be in your debt.”
He leaned forward, held his hands out placatingly and whispered, “I should rather address what you said. You seem to be working with a few misconceptions, which I would like to clear up if I am allowed.”
“For what purpose? I doubt we shall ever see each other again, and venting my spleen has done nothing but make it harder to accomplish my purpose.”
“I promise to explain my aunt to you in all the detail you can stand; but I would beg your indulgence to discuss your other assertions first if you would be so kind?” he said, almost in a whisper, and with a pleading tone in his voice he would not ordinarily care for.
“Which part?” she asked, shoulders slumped in defeat.
“All of it.”
“I suppose I am not in that great of a hurry. Proceed at your leisure,” she said with another resigned sigh.
Darcy ran his hand through his hair, throwing it into some disarray, which any lady would admit made him look slightly more handsome.
With a tightly controlled voice, he asked, “You assert Bingley is, unaccountably, a few weeks after leaving Hertfordshire, abruptly courting my sister. How did you come to that conclusion, if I may ask?”
“Because Miss Bingley told us—in writing. She is a pernicious snake in the grass, but I have yet to know her to lie outright.”
“Until now,” Darcy grunted.
“There is no attachment?”
Elizabeth had no trouble believing Caroline Bingley would lie, but to write something so easily disproven seemed a bit much even for the superior sisters. Aside from being trivially easy to disprove, the letter was dangerous. Jane could easily destroy their reputations by simply asking her father to post the letter to Mr Darcy and asking him to confirm or deny its assertions.
“None,” Darcy said emphatically. “Bingley has nothing but fraternal feelings for my sister, who is by the way, only sixteen and not even out for another year at least.”
Elizabeth snorted derisively and let out a brittle laugh. “Do you seriously think her age will slow down a fortune hunter by even the tiniest little bit? My father occasionally asserts some men prefer stupid wives, and I never know if he is jesting or not. If he was serious, there are few better ways to get a naïve wife than getting them young. My sisters would certainly qualify. I can assure you that eight men out of ten would not bat an eye at a sixteen-year-old with high social position and a presumably enormous dowry. Whether Mr Bingley hassaidanything or not, I can assure you with absolute conviction the thought has occurred to him, even outside of his sister’s no doubt incessant badgering.”
Darcy was too wise to tackle the subject head-on, so proceeded to the next topic. “Be that as it may, whether Bingley is an idiot or not, he is most certainly not seeking a stupid or young wife.MissBingley certainly hopes for a match, but she would have better luck hoping lightning would strike her.”
Elizabeth sat back and rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling an aching head coming on.
“Much as I enjoy the idea of Miss Bingley being struck by lightning, it is beside the point. The gentleman is most certainly an idiot, andthere can be no two opinions on the subject. He deliberately and cruelly walked away from the most wonderful woman in the world without even taking leave forsome unfathomable reason. I would like to think learning the Bingley sisters were lying would somehow make Jane’s heart heal more easily, but I doubt it. In fact, it would probably make things worse.”
“How so?” Darcy asked, not liking the sound of the ‘broken heart’ assertion, which if true would cast him in a very ungentlemanly light.
“If Miss Darcy took precedence, Jane could believe the man was being practical—much as I am. If he abandoned Jane in favour of one of your half-dozen accomplished, well-dowered, sisterless ladies, it would at least show a bit of sense. It would of course mean he is no gentleman—but though his actions are inexcusable, they would at least be rational. With no Miss Darcy to justify the defection, the only explanation Jane will see is she wasjust not good enough.That is harder to accept.”
“Is ‘not good enough’ the only reason you can think of?” he asked with a sceptical air.
