Mr Bennet tossed his book to the table, removed his spectacles, and rose. He scarcely opened his lips when he spoke. “What would you tell me about the proud and disagreeable Mr Darcy?”
“You have mistaken his character. Do not upset me by speaking of him so. You do not know him.”
“I thought you knew better than to fall for a handsome face. Of all the foolish reasons for a daughter to leave her father and her home, that is by far the most reprehensible. You could have fallen for one of those officers if all you wanted was some attention.”
She looked at her father in dismay. “When have you known me to flirt with men to trifle with their affections? Do you believe me to require a gentleman only to be handsome in order to accept him?”
“Other than being taken in by pleasant features and a full purse, I can see no other reason for you to encourage Mr Darcy. From the first moment of your meeting him, you and your mother told me, with much bitterness of spirit, I might add, how shockingly rude you found him. You only pretend to admire him now, but he is a proud man who does not love you.”
“He does love me, and I am not pretending. He asked me to marry him, and I accepted!” Her father’s face went pale. “He attempted to ask for your consent when he was last here, and I beg you to grant it when he returns.”
Her father stared for a long moment, and even before he spoke, she knew he would not agree.
“You are but a temporary amusement to this man.” Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. “Mr Darcy might be like other rich men. He visits the country to partake in the company of a country miss and has no scruples in returning to town and leaving the lady with disappointed hopes. Consider Mr Bingley from last autumn and tell me you mean more to Mr Darcy than Jane did to Mr Bingley.” He crossed his arms and smirked.
“He courted my attentions in Kent and in London, and he is returning to Netherfield to be near me. How do you explain his calling on me and making his sister known to us if not because he loves me?” She would avoid explaining Fitzwilliam’s first proposal and her vehement refusal as she could not bear to open them both to further sport.
“His own enjoyment or his own ease must be his ruling principle, just as any other wealthy man. Your sisters are all silly and ignorant, but I thought you had something more of quickness than them.” He shook his head at her disappointingly. “Clearly, I was in the wrong.”
Elizabeth’s misery increased at her father’s cruelty. His odd mixture of sarcastic humour and caprice had never troubled her as it now did. “Pray tell, what have I done to deserve such a description?”
Her father threw up his hands. “Have you not always hated this man? You would leave your home only for riches and pin money?”
“I disliked him before I knew him better! And if all I cared about was wealth, I might have married Mr Collins for the security of my family.”
“Instead, you would marry a man who, although not foolish like Mr Collins, is proud and unpleasant. You have been lured by his ten thousand a year. Why else would you wish to leave Longbourn?”
“Because I love him.” Why was this impossible for her father to understand? “He has no improper pride, and he is a perfectly amiable man. I was mistaken by my first impressions of him. He has admired me for a long time. You might see that I care for him and you might even find him likeable if you ever left your library.”
“Likeable?” he cried. “I do not need to know him, Lizzy. All he is to me is the man trying to lure you from home. You mean nothing to him.”
Elizabeth jumped to her feet. “I respect him just as he respects me, and there is no doubt in my heart or my mind that he loves me.”
Mr Bennet sighed and returned to his chair. Elizabeth had hoped that, once her father knew of her affection for her betrothed, he would have no reservations. She could no longer blame her father’s misinformation; she was in every way reasonable in explaining her feelings.
Her father gazed out the window. After several moments of silence, he asked, “You are determined to have that man?”
“I am.”
“How fortunate for you that Mr Darcy is the kind of man to whom I could never refuse anything that he condescended to ask. In the unlikely event this man returns for you, I shall grant my consent.”
Elizabeth felt no joy upon hearing these words but thanked her father all the same. He still would not look at her. She willed her tears not to fall and walked to the door when her father’s voice made her turn back.
“Lizzy, I congratulate you. You will be a happy woman with your fine carriages and expensive clothes.”
After a lifetime of praising her intellect, soliciting her opinion, and appreciating her humour, her own father thought her mercenary and superficial. “I am not marrying Mr Darcy for his fortune or for his consequence. I thought that you knew me better than that.” With her eyes cast down and her disappointment rising, she left him.
Elizabeth tried to take pleasure in her mother’s positive response, but to have her mother extol Fitzwilliam’s affluence reminded her that her father thought her to be a fortune hunter.
Her life at Longbourn now involved avoiding her father’s critical eye and limiting her mother’s effusions. One parent believed her to be a heartless fortune hunter while the other could not wait to announce that her daughter would marry a man worth ten thousand a year.
By the middle of June, Fitzwilliam’s return was the only object of Elizabeth’s happiest thoughts. It was her best consolation for the uncomfortable hours that the discontentedness of her father and the ignorance of her mother made inevitable. Summer activities arose, and the gossip of the neighbourhood predominantly focused on Jane and the return of the amiable Mr Bingley.
* * *
For a mannormally lively and unreserved, Bingley had grown disconcertedly quiet, and Darcy felt all the awkwardness of their situation. There remained an hour left in their journey to Netherfield, and Bingley’s irritated silence filled the carriage.
One quarter of an hour had passed since Darcy made his confession, one that he ought to have made long ago. He had to tell his friend that he concealed Miss Bennet’s presence from him for three months, well before Darcy delivered Elizabeth’s letters and brought Bingley to Gracechurch Street. Bingley deserved to know the truth of his interference last winter, and now he struggled to understand Darcy’s deceit.
