Discussing

Discussing

Elizabeth stared at him for some time, and finally sat down, but she remained on the very edge of the chair looking ready to flee at the slightest provocation.

“I apologise, sir. I said far more than I intended, and more than was wise. I did not come here to fight. If you are willing to disregard what we said earlier and simply tell me about your aunt, I would be in your debt.”

He leaned forward, held his hands out placatingly and whispered, “I should rather address what you said. You seem to be working with a few misconceptions, which I would like to clear up if I am allowed.”

“For what purpose? I doubt we shall ever see each other again, and venting my spleen has done nothing but make it harder to accomplish my purpose.”

“I promise to explain my aunt to you in all the detail you can stand; but I would beg your indulgence to discuss your other assertions first if you would be so kind?” he said, almost in a whisper, and with a pleading tone in his voice he would not ordinarily care for.

“Which part?” she asked, shoulders slumped in defeat.

“All of it.”

“I suppose I am not in that great of a hurry. Proceed at your leisure,” she said with another resigned sigh.

Darcy ran his hand through his hair, throwing it into some disarray, which any lady would admit made him look slightly more handsome.

With a tightly controlled voice, he asked, “You assert Bingley is, unaccountably, a few weeks after leaving Hertfordshire, abruptly courting my sister. How did you come to that conclusion, if I may ask?”

“Because Miss Bingley told us—in writing. She is a pernicious snake in the grass, but I have yet to know her to lie outright.”

“Until now,” Darcy grunted .

“There is no attachment?”

Elizabeth had no trouble believing Caroline Bingley would lie, but to write something so easily disproven seemed a bit much even for the superior sisters. Aside from being trivially easy to disprove, the letter was dangerous. Jane could easily destroy their reputations by simply asking her father to post the letter to Mr Darcy and asking him to confirm or deny its assertions.

“None,” Darcy said emphatically. “Bingley has nothing but fraternal feelings for my sister, who is by the way, only sixteen and not even out for another year at least.”

Elizabeth snorted derisively and let out a brittle laugh. “Do you seriously think her age will slow down a fortune hunter by even the tiniest little bit? My father occasionally asserts some men prefer stupid wives, and I never know if he is jesting or not. If he was serious, there are few better ways to get a na?ve wife than getting them young. My sisters would certainly qualify. I can assure you that eight men out of ten would not bat an eye at a sixteen-year-old with high social position and a presumably enormous dowry. Whether Mr Bingley has said anything or not, I can assure you with absolute conviction the thought has occurred to him, even outside of his sister’s no doubt incessant badgering.”

Darcy was too wise to tackle the subject head-on, so proceeded to the next topic. “Be that as it may, whether Bingley is an idiot or not, he is most certainly not seeking a stupid or young wife. Miss Bingley certainly hopes for a match, but she would have better luck hoping lightning would strike her.”

Elizabeth sat back and rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling an aching head coming on.

“Much as I enjoy the idea of Miss Bingley being struck by lightning, it is beside the point. The gentleman is most certainly an idiot, and there can be no two opinions on the subject . He deliberately and cruelly walked away from the most wonderful woman in the world without even taking leave for some unfathomable reason. I would like to think learning the Bingley sisters were lying would somehow make Jane’s heart heal more easily, but I doubt it. In fact, it would probably make things worse.”

“How so?” Darcy asked, not liking the sound of the ‘broken heart’ assertion, which if true would cast him in a very ungentlemanly light.

“If Miss Darcy took precedence, Jane could believe the man was being practical—much as I am. If he abandoned Jane in favour of one of your half-dozen accomplished, well-dowered, sisterless ladies, it would at least show a bit of sense. It would of course mean he is no gentleman—but though his actions are inexcusable, they would at least be rational. With no Miss Darcy to justify the defection, the only explanation Jane will see is she was just not good enough. That is harder to accept.”

“Is ‘not good enough’ the only reason you can think of?” he asked with a sceptical air.

“What does it matter? Whether he found her not good enough, or our fortunes too precarious, or our family too coarse, or his sisters and best friend aggressively discouraged him—it matters not. He courted my sister for weeks, with abundant exposure to her family and full knowledge of our condition in life, then left without a word. Worse yet, he left saying he would return in days, so he abandoned Jane with lies on his lips. I could forgive a rational decision and graceful bowing out. Slinking off like a thief in the night… less so.”

Feeling queasy, Darcy asked, “What if he left because he was clearly under attack by a mercenary mother, and he was courting a woman who showed not the slightest bit of real interest? I observed her carefully and I shall not scruple to assert, that the serenity of your sister’s countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart was not likely to be easily touched. ”

Elizabeth stared at him hard for a moment or two, then shook herself before answering. “None of this has anything to do with Lady Catherine, so I will not waste the rest of the afternoon arguing about my sister and your inconstant friend. I will only say this—she showed her affection to him! She behaved with propriety , which means her feelings were not to be bandied about to the general population until he declared himself. They spent hours in semi-private conversation that neither you nor I are privy to. Would you be happier if she spent her time fawning over him like Miss Bingley does to you? It would be the grossest impropriety if you knew as much about her feelings as he did. The fact that Mr Bingley listened to you , of all people, is just another example of how much of an idiot he is… thus strengthening my thesis.”

Darcy stared back and started to speak once or twice, but Elizabeth just held up her hand to stop him.

“Once again, we are wasting time and vexation on irrelevant topics. You wanted to know why I assert most men are idiots, and any man who would court a Bennet sister is a particular idiot. Mr Bingley was a convenient example, but I could easily find you five more. Jane will heal and eventually find a worthier man, not that the standard is all that high. I would prefer to return to the topic at hand if you please. Contrary to popular opinion, I do not like to argue just for argument’s sake.”

Darcy stared at her in consternation and started imagining finding some beaten down shadow of her at Rosings. The vision made his chest feel like it was being trampled. It was one thing to imagine her eventually married to some vague, unknown, but mostly acceptable (and more importantly, out of sight) gentleman. In his heart of hearts, he was not certain he could have accepted even that, but Mr Collins… Mr Collins? That thought was just too much to bear.

He growled silently in frustration at the vagaries of life and fortune.