Page 7 of The Gossip War
He frowned ferociously at that assertion but did not argue since Mama had done so in company at Netherfield when she visited.
“Out of curiosity, why not have your father talk to me, or let it go? Have you been nursing a grudge this whole time… not that I did not deserve it of course?”
She sighed in chagrin. “My father remarked once on a broken courtship of a neighbour’s daughter, ‘Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed a little in love now and then. It is something to think of, and it gives her a sort of distinction among her companions.’”
She frowned and looked at him carefully. “Your slight was something like that. I perversely enjoyed being the object of such scorn. It gave me a distinction to be so summarily dismissed. It was not as if anyone in this county would entice someone of your stature anyway. I was slighted, but at least I was not ignored.”
She shrugged as if it was of no moment, but I was not fooled. She had been hurt, but she had recovered and was done with it.
Elizabeth might have been finished with the slight at the assembly, but Mr Darcy was not. Lizzy’s tender heart would know forgiveness in an instant. It was the only way to get through a typical day at Longbourn. For Mr Darcy, only time would do the job. It is always harder to forgive yourself than someone else. He would get over it, but not that night.
“My plan is simple enough,” said she. “We will go to Longbourn and work out how to protect your sister’s reputation. My parents will be invaluable in that regard. My father will go through the forms of denying consent, and after the dust settles, we can begin again. Perhaps we can even be friends next time.”
The gentleman sat in thought for a moment. “Out of curiosity, aside from ending our phantom betrothal, how will your parents be of assistance?”
I had been passive long enough, so I laughed. “I hope you realise what you are in the middle of.”
He just looked confused, while Lizzy nodded in agreement.
“This is a matter of reputations, and we all know how they are damaged or spared. Tonight, the Bingleys fired the first shots of a gossip war. They have no idea that they are as thoroughly over-matched as if they brought a pillow to a knife fight.”
That did not seem to quite answer the question, so I took the liberty of assisting.
“Mr Darcy, gossip is like four streams on a muddy plain. They mix here and there, but there are four primary threads. There are both the male and female streams on the gentry side, andthe same for the servants and tradesmen. They can trickle out to nothing or create a flood. My mother and our housekeeper are the undisputed masters of both female streams, and my father and our butler have ready access to the male.”
“Whatever story we choose will spread before luncheon here in Hertfordshire, and to town before supper.
“Gossip always gets distorted, but it is my mother’s lifeblood. She understands it far better than you would give her credit for. The story we choose will be told, regardless of what the Bingleys do.”
He looked as if manipulating gossip was a brand-new concept that should be studied at Oxford, but he gave us the courtesy of thinking about it for a while.
“I see. Now that you point it out, the whole thing makes sense.”
Lizzy said, “We must decide on a story, but once we do, it will spread very quickly. That is why I do not want the Bingleys to know we are gone. The element of surprise is invaluable in war. Hours may make the difference between success and failure, so our story will disperse before the Bingleys leave their beds.”
We all nodded, trying to think through what we wanted the story to be.
I finally said, “We should not spend all night thinking with just the three of us. We need our parents’ council. My mother is a bit flighty, but you will be surprised how sensible she can be when she wants to; and I can assure you that she will. I can well picture her rubbing her hands in glee at the challenge.”
He nodded and was thoughtful for just a moment, then looked carefully at Lizzy.
“Miss Elizabeth… I applaud your thoughtfulness more than I can possibly express. I must admit, that at least today (and probably most days), you are smarter than I am. I like yourplan very much. I would, however, like to suggest one small modification that may enhance its chances for success.”
Elizabeth laughed. “It is a work in progress. I am certain your cousin the colonel would assert that no battle plan survives the first strategy session, let alone contact with the enemy. What would you like to change?”
“The change regards Mr Bennet denying consent for the engagement. I have a preferred solution.”
Elizabeth looked intrigued. There was nothing she liked better than an improvement on a clever plan.
“What do you suggest?”
“I would very much prefer he give his consent and blessing!”
Netherfield Library, 1:50 AM, Elizabeth
Zooks! Talk about kicking over a hornet’s nest! Mr Darcy is not one for half-measures. He appeared to be a straight for the jugular type of man.
When he said he not only found me tolerable enough to dance with, but tolerable enough tomarry, I seriously considered swooning. Of course, that would have been overly dramatic at that point, so instead, I gave him an honest answer.
