Page 35 of Till Death Us Do Part
“That was my conclusion. But I will not give up entirely. Her family may surprise me! How hard can it be to maintain decorum for one day, especially given the roaring success of their endeavours?”
“Miss Bennet, what is the meaning of this,” Mr Bennet nearly shouted at his recalcitrant daughter.
Elizabeth had no idea whether he meant the letter sitting open on his desk, or her presence in the room where she had been delivered, no doubt at some expense, by Mr Baker.
“As to the letter, it seems self-explanatory. I intended it as my last communication, at least until after my majority, so it was as comprehensive as I could make it. I have nothing to add. If you mean my continued refusal to let you and Mr Darcy dictate the rest of my life, the explanation is that I am no more enamoured with the idea than I was a week ago.”
Still with his ire up, Bennet said, “Sit down, daughter. This cannot go on. I will have your word that you will give up these childish notions of yours and do what is right.”
“Right for whom?”
“Right for your family. Right for Mr Darcy. Right for yourself if you would quit being so blasted stubborn.”
Elizabeth squeezed her fists together until she thought her palms might bleed. “No sir. I have one last hope.”
“Which is?” her father asked with a sneer.
“Which is, sir—” she said, then took a deep breath and exhaled carefully. “—you cannotmakeme take the vows. Women in England have almost no power in anything, but we haveonechoice in our lives. Wecandecline to be married, and neither the church nor the law will force the issue. No vows—no marriage.”
Bennet had been torn between anger and amusement, but the amusement flew right out the window, and he slammed his fist down on the desk.
“You are being ridiculous. Perhaps as you say, I cannot force you, but I do have means of persuasion.”
Elizabeth stared, hard and unyielding.
“I have thought of all of those. What are you to do? You can lock me in the cellar until the wedding, and nobody will say a word. You can beat me as much as you choose, so long as you do not kill me, but that is tough to do without being detected by the groom. I suspect he would strongly object and march away himself. Imagine him bringing suit against you for delivering damaged goods. You can throw me out to starve in the hedgerows, but since I have tried to do that twice on my own, I do not see it as much of a threat. You can take away my dowry, but since it is a pittance and not due for thirty years anyway, I am not going to hold my breath waiting. What else do you have?”
By then, Elizabeth was once again standing in front of her father’s desk, her blood boiling, practically spitting in his face, while her father tried to get a word in edgewise.
Finally, he sat down, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
“You forgot one thing, Elizabeth. I can threaten something you think is important.”
“I cannot think of anything I findthatimportant.”
Bennet looked confusedly at the spectacles in his hand and cleaned them with his handkerchief to buy time.
“Daughter, you have had your say. You have had your say, and had your say, and had your say and your say. You said it with your words. You said it with your feet. You said it with your letter. You said it with your derision. You need not worry you were too subtle. I got the message. However—”
And with that, he put his spectacles back on with a snap and leaned forward menacingly.
“You do not want to take any responsibility for what happened. There is no need to repeat your objections. Like your youngest sister and in fact like yourself, would you at least admit that I am not stupid. You may or may not have thought you wereflirtingwith that gentleman, but I would wager that eight men out of ten who saw would interpret it that way.”
Elizabeth gasped, and yelled, “FLIRTING!You are mad! Was I, in some fashion, too subtle in voicing my disapprobation?”
Bennet slammed the desk with the flat of his hand, his blood up to match his daughter.
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.The bard had it right—or perhaps you prefer Congreve’sHell hath no fury like a woman scorned.Darcy almost certainly thinks you were flirting with him, and I am not at all uncertain myself.”
“My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! Still, your ignorant assessment of my actions does not change the material fact that I can and will refuse to say the vows.”
Bennet sighed resignedly.
“Well then, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, let me tell you how it will be. I will not live forever, sosomeonewill be married from Longbourn within the month. If you do not marry Darcy, I will of course throw you out of the house without a farthing, which is nowhere near as diverting as you seem to think. Your aunt and uncle will not help you, since you will be simply reaping what you have sown. Then I will engage one of my more compliant daughters—which at this point, amounts to any of them—to Collins!I think Jane might make an adequate Mrs Collins!”
Elizabeth gasped in horror. “You would not!”
“Why not? Right or wrong you believed I would do the same to you, and if you think I am bluffing about getting my daughters married and settled, the past fortnight should have taught you differently. What makes you think Jane is safe? Your own words in this letter suggest it as an acceptable solution.”
