Janet Aylmer: Darcy’s Story

Bingley paused and then, as though suddenly struck by a new idea, went on,

“I knew that Lady Catherine had called to see Elizabeth at Longbourn, for Jane told me about the visit. Was that on your behalf?”

“No! It was not,” said Darcy, more sharply than he intended.

He reflected immediately to himself that it was not wise, at least not yet, to broadcast his aunt’s strong opposition to the marriage, even to as close a friend as Bingley, until he had written to her and received a reply to the letter. There was, after all, the possibility, however small and remote, that Lady Catherine might change her mind about the match.

Instead, he said to Bingley, “Will you now wish me joy?”

His friend replied emphatically, “With all my heart. I can think of nothing that would please Jane and I more. Are you to speak to Mr. Bennet tomorrow?”

“Probably, yes,” Darcy replied, “when I have had the opportunity for some further private conversation with Elizabeth. Are you willing to propose another walk tomorrow? I must confess that there seems little likelihood of talking with her at Longbourn without being overheard.”

“Of course!” said his friend, “for clearly such exercise is to your advantage!”

On the following day, Darcy followed his friend into the drawing-room at Longbourn.

As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at Elizabeth so expressively, and shook her hand with such warmth, as left no doubt of his good information. Soon afterwards, he said aloud, “Mrs. Bennet, have you no more lanes hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her way again to-day?”

Darcy saw Elizabeth look at him with some alarm, but her mother intervened before she could say anything.

“I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty,” said Mrs. Bennet, “to walk to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has never seen the view.”

“It may do very well for the others,” replied Mr. Bingley, “but I am sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won’t it, Kitty?”

Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home.

Darcy confirmed to Mrs. Bennet that he had a great curiosity to see the view from the Mount. Elizabeth said nothing, but went to get her wrap before joining him outside. After they had walked out of earshot of the house, Darcy began.

“I wish to speak to your father tonight, to ask his consent, before anyone else has any knowledge of it. Do you know what his reaction will be?”

Elizabeth replied, “My father is likely to be very surprised at your application. He knows nothing of what passed between us in Kent, or at Pemberley.”

She blushed as she went on, “His opinion of you may be coloured by the views of others, formed when you first came into Hertfordshire.”

“You mean, I suppose, by views similar to your own at Rosings?”

She acknowledged that she had in mind something of the sort.

“Also, it is only a few days ago, just after Lady Catherine called, that my father received a letter from Mr. Collins. He wrote that word had reached Kent of my sister’s forthcoming marriage. That must have led on to the idea of an alliance between us, passed on, I assume, from Sir William and Lady Lucas to Charlotte, and warned my father that your aunt was opposed to it. He called me into the library, as he was so surprised at such a possibility.”

“And what did you say?” said Darcy with a half smile.

“I said as little as I could, without telling him an untruth.”

Darcy looked concerned. He knew that Elizabeth was her father’s favourite child. “You are not saying that he will refuse me consent to marry you!”

“No, I do not believe so. But he may say that he has had no inkling that I have any attachment to you.”

“And your mother, what of her,” Darcy inquired, remembering very well Mrs. Bennet triumphantly relating to him only two weeks ago the news of her youngest daughter’s nuptials.

Elizabeth told him that she would speak to Mrs. Bennet only when she was certain that Darcy had her father’s consent. She went on to ask him, in relation to the events which had led to her sister’s marriage with Wickham, what, if anything, should be disclosed.

“As I told you before, Sir, my mother and father have no inkling of how indebted they are to you in that unhappy business. They believe that it was my uncle Gardiner’s doing. You do not wish me to inform either of them?”

“Only, if you consider it essential, to tell your father, so that he may not trouble your uncle about repayment.”

Elizabeth then reserved to herself passing on the news to Mrs. Bennet, once it was certain that her father had agreed, saying only that she believed that she would always be happy at the prospect of a wedding for any of her daughters. That reminded them both of Wickham and Lydia, and they changed the subject quickly, to happier topics about the future.

That evening after dinner, Darcy followed his host when he left the party to go to his room.

Seeing him, Mr. Bennet said, “Can I assist you, Sir? You are very welcome to borrow one of my books, for when the other entertainments, that are on offer, pall?”

“Thank you, but I have no need of a book for that reason. But there is something that I should like to discuss, if you would be kind enough to allow me a few minutes.”

Mr. Bennet looked surprised, but said nothing, and he led the way into the library, then inviting his guest to sit down.

But Darcy walked over to the fire, and turned, taking in the room with comfortable furniture and lined with books, in in which he knew that his host spent much of his time.

He began, without delay.

“I have an application to ask of you, Sir, that is of the utmost importance to me. Your daughter, Miss Elizabeth, has done me the greatest honour in telling me that she is willing to accept my offer of marriage, subject to your consent.”

His host appeared to take several moments to comprehend the import of this request. His countenance turned slowly to astonishment and then to concern. At last, Mr. Bennet said, “You have asked Lizzy to marry you...and she has accepted?” He spoke as though expecting a reply in the negative.

Darcy replied simply, “Yes, Sir, she has done me that honour.”

“Forgive me, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet, “but I had no idea that you... that she... that you and Lizzy were well acquainted enough to...?”

Darcy waited for a moment, and then, as his host made no move to continue, he said,

“Your daughter has told me, Sir, that you may have little knowledge of our meetings in Kent and in Derbyshire earlier this year. You may wish to speak to her about that.”

Mr. Bennet was still silent.

“All I should say for myself now is that it is my dearest wish that she should be my wife.”

Darcy hesitated for a moment and then, as Mr. Bennet still gave no reply, he added, “I can assure you, Sir, that it is my intention to make a most generous settlement on her in the event of our marriage. She shall not want for anything.”

This last remark aroused Mr. Bennet into speech, although not on the lines that Darcy had anticipated.

“I do not doubt your ability to provide for her . . .” he said.

But he went on, in a tone that was almost puzzled, “I had no idea that there was any mutual feeling between you and my daughter. And I must confess that I was completely unaware of your intentions.”

“Forgive me, Sir,” said Darcy, “if I say that Miss Elizabeth and I are perhaps less open, more private in our emotions and behaviour than my friend, Bingley, and your eldest daughter, Miss Bennet.”

“Yes, yes,” said Mr. Bennet, almost testily, and he then lapsed into silence.

Darcy was not sure how to interpret this reaction, especially since he had noted in the past that Elizabeth’s facility with words was inherited from her father.