His brow furrowed, and I suspected he was revisiting the particulars of our acquaintance. He seemed to have lost control of the stone face he habitually wore, and I suspected Lizzy was even more fascinated than I was. Every few seconds he nodded and frowned as if he had recalled something and did not like the recollection in the least.
He finally turned his attention to me. “Is that why both of you avoided me like the plague for the first fortnight, though you stared at me warily almost constantly?”
“Partially,” I replied cautiously.
“I owe you an apology as well, Miss Bennet, but cannot quite work out exactly what I need to apologise for. Miss Elizabeth stated she would ordinarily savage my reputation over that slight, yet you both held your fire. That slight, bad as it was, seems inadequate as explanation for your wariness. Can you tell me why?”
That was it—the moment of truth I had avoided for six weeks. I looked to Lizzy, and she shrugged resignedly, as if it was time to get it over with and accept the consequences.
I had a small valise our coachman brought in case of need, so I opened it, removed my travel bonnet, held it over my head, lowered my voice as Lizzy had, and gave an abbreviated version of the most mortifying moment of my life.
“Who are you and what are you doing with my sister twenty miles from where she belongs? Answer me! Now! Or perhaps, you prefer to speak with the magistrate.”
Ithoughtthe man looked poleaxed with Lizzy’s repetition. Now he looked so stunned he might kill himself if he could find a rope. For about half a minute he stared at me in agitation, while I wondered if he would finally offer reward or revenge. I admit I was being as churlish as Lydia since he had only once given anyhint of dishonourable intentions during our acquaintance, but by then I had been frightened by his outburst for nigh-on five months and fear was not easily conquered by logic—especially given our vast disparity in consequence.
He shocked me by sliding out of his chair to kneel in a posture somewhere between suitor and supplicant, which was disconcerting to say the least.
“I will never be able to adequately apologise for my shameful behaviour that day, but pray allow me to make a start. I am sorrier than I can ever say about how I handled that situation, and it is the most shameful moment of my life. I hope you will allow me to say how very sorry I am, and I further hope that, regardless of how unworthy you may find me, you will allow me to reintroduce you to my sister and get a start on making amends. I owe you everything… absolutely everything, and I would move heaven and earth to ensure your happiness.”
I was becoming tremendously embarrassed by the supplication, and considering the tolerance for mortification attendant in being a Bennet, that is saying something.
I finally said, “You owe me nothing, Mr Darcy. I asked for all I desire at the start of this discussion. Lizzy and I will be happy to be introduced to your sister, but I ask nothing more.”
“You could askanythingof me, and I would happily grant it.”
“I have asked for all I desire, sir.”
He looked back at me with what I easily recognised as a mulish look—something I was very well accustomed to. Our assertion that one of the possible outcomes was a substantial reward seemed to be borne out. While I was not especially desirous of a reward, particularly a monetary one, it did give me the idea that he would never be happy unless he felt he had repaid the debt. I began to think of ways a man like him could help my family, and I was no longer entirely convinced I would demur.
At the very least, we could ask him to redirect Mr Collins to the appropriate sister, and maybe finance a school for Kitty and Lydia. Those alone might satisfy Lizzy and me, but I doubted very much a man like him would consider it much more than an appetiser.
14.Enlightenment- Darcy
Funny thing, character. You never know how or when it will change, though assuming it will be when least expected is not a bad rule of thumb.
Most of the time, a man’s character changes slowly over time, if at all—something like a boat lazily floating down a slow-moving river gradually evolving over years. Other times, it may change much more abruptly, akin to hitting rapids, where the current is quick, the rocks sharp, and failure severe. That is more or less how things progressed for me.
A boy of sixteen knows everything there is to know about everything in the world, including his own place in it and associated character. He is as certain of his knowledge as the imminent rising of the sun. His upbringing is thus complete, and all he lacks is escape from the shackles of parents, schools, society, and the like. Ladies are still a mystery, but the gentleman is content to allow the mystery to unfold in its own time, as all will turn out correctly and will naturally coincide with his own convenience and desires.
A slightly older man at his majority, having lazily floated down the river from Eton to Cambridge with his father’s advice along the way, can look back and see the naivety of the callow youth he was, with the firm certainty thatnowhe has finally arrived at the age of wisdom and knowledge, and he only lacks experience. That young man is ready to learn the details of his inheritance and has years to accomplish the task. He finds his character complete, but his knowledge of his responsibilities has room to grow.
A man of twenty-five, who has endured the death of both parents as well as his steward, taken over the reins of a vast estate with hundreds of dependants, taken reasonable charge of a decade-younger sister, and managed it all withnary a disaster, nor even anything close (save the occasional compromise attempt), may well rue the innocence of that twenty-one-year-old who so vastly underestimated the effects of being responsible for so many. The river is longer and the current faster than anticipated, but his character matches his knowledge and training, thus allowing him to prevail—just about as expected. Women are as much a mystery as ever, but his years of experience have taught him to be wary, and less naively optimistic about his chances of success on that front.
Much later, when that poor, arrogant, deluded fool meets his sister in the middle of a coaching station twenty miles from where she belongs, he might rapidly learn that the river hasfar worserapids than he could have imagined, and like any land-lubber, he needs to learn to paddle like mad or sink; the chances of bashing his boat into several rocks of his own making are considerable. He might be disconcerted to learn he entered the rapids without anywhere near the required skill, and it is only the whims of fate that save him.
Even later, should the lunkhead fall in love with a woman for whom most of her family makes a high art of impropriety, and for whom the two eldest members demonstrate with unflinching honesty just how deluded he has been—that poor blighter will go over a waterfall, and his survival will depend on doing just the right thing at just the right time to avoid disaster, despite his previously noted lack of skill in watercraft.
Such was my feeling when Miss Jane Bennet demonstrated the folly of all my unearned pretensions of superiority with naught but a travel bonnet and a mirror held up to my own arrogance.I can assure you in the strongest terms that the view of the rocks dozens of feet below and rushing at me was nerve-wracking.
Things became crystal-clear. I recognized what I had been reluctant to admit to myself, and my poor boat flipped over,leaving me underwater. Instead of trying to work out if Elizabeth Bennet was worthy of me,I had to somehow endeavour to make myself worthy of her.The development of my character wasfarfrom complete, and it needed to improve rapidly to have any chance of success. At the very least, I needed to survive the waterfall so I could live to paddle another day.
The first order of business was an abject apology, or several if you get down to it. I doubted either lady would appreciate literal grovelling, especially after enduring a week of Mr Collins’ particular attentions, but I could make a good start on amends. Beyond that, I needed to at least stake my claim with respect to my intentions, especially with the aforementioned groveller in attendance and eyeing the object of my affection with looks I could not like.
Miss Bennet’s last exchange, with me kneeling in front of her in supplication, laid the groundwork.
“You could askanythingof me, and I would happily grant it,” I said, meaning every word.
“I have asked for all I desire, sir,” she replied.
