Fishing

Fishing

Elizabeth laughed at how ridiculous his poor abused analogy was faring, and said, “All right, I will bite. What do you mean?”

“We are thinking about the problem all wrong.”

“Pray, enlighten me, Mr Particular Idiot,” she said with a small light-hearted laugh, which somewhat surprised her.

“Back to the bear. I do not necessarily need to outrun Mr Colins. If I can stop the bear, we can both quit running.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning—you do not need to decide to marry me by Saturday. You must simply decide not to marry Mr Colins. If we remove the distress of having to make such a big and irrevocable decision in three days, we have time to fall in love at our leisure and assure ourselves we are not condemned to repeating our parents’ mistakes.”

“How?”

“Let us get back to basics: your mother’s fear that your father will die and you will all starve in the hedgerows.”

She grimaced. “You heard that?”

“Everyone in Lucas Lodge heard that—including Sir William’s hounds.”

Elizabeth laughed and surprisingly found herself slightly more comfortable with the man, though she was unwilling to examine exactly why having him openly slight her mother had that effect.

“Does Mrs Bennet have a jointure?”

Elizabeth was confused by the sudden jump in topic, but finally replied, “Yes, she came into the marriage with ￡5,000. That is the source of our pitiable dowries and most of our pin money. We each get an equal share on her death, and ￡50 per annum during my father’s lifetime.”

“Let us assume your father dropped dead tomorrow, and there was no money saved. I have a difficult time with such a pessimistic assumption, but I suppose it is possible. ”

“You would have to ask my father, but…” then she paused, and finally sighed, “…if you presume maximum indolence, you are not likely to be too far off.”

Darcy nodded and frowned. “You of course know that they will all be secure if you marry me? It would be covered in the marriage contract.”

“I assumed so, but I suppose it is good to be explicit.”

He sighed. “If you marry me, you agree to everything involved in marrying a very rich man—not all of them pleasant.”

“For example?”

“Your youngest sisters are, I hate to say, incorrigible flirts. Their behaviour must be curbed if we wed. It is non-negotiable.”

Elizabeth started to stammer a response, but a look at his face convinced her he was giving her a chance to work it out for herself.

She finally sighed when the answer became obvious. “They are currently mostly annoying but harmless so long as we keep them in the neighbourhood and the militia at arm’s length. However, if they have a very rich brother, they will become the target of every fortune hunter in town, and they are easy prey. They would follow Mary King’s example; except they might not have a sensible uncle take them away.”

“Exactly!” he said, happy that he did not need to explain that particular gem.

“Aside from that, their behaviour would embarrass the Darcy name, which would hurt us and our children.”

He nodded, not feeling the need to beat the subject to death.

“I suppose that would go in the articles as well?”

“Naturally!” he said, as if sending sisters-in-law to school or a governess was ordinary business in a marriage settlement. Of course, for all Elizabeth knew, at his level of society it was .

Darcy said, “That aside, let us get down to my suggestion.”

“Proceed at your leisure.”

“The problem is that I am asking more of you than you are asking of me. That imbalance makes your decision harder, so I propose we redress it.”

Elizabeth scrunched her face in confusion. “I do not understand. I offer nothing but my charms, such as they are, while you offer me everything. How is it that you ask more of me than I ask of you. It makes no sense.”

“Because you are thinking only in material terms, not in terms of what is really important. In those terms, I am asking more of you.”

“Explain!”

He stopped their walk so she could face him and they could look into each other’s eyes.

“In effect, I am asking you to discard your security for the nebulous promise that we can make a love match of it. Mr Collins had weeks to think about a match with you. I have been thinking about making you my bride for months. For you to even entertain my proposal, you must either decide very quickly or abandon the security of Mr Collins’s offer and hope for the best. I propose to restore your security, so we are on an even footing with regard to the love match we both truly desire.”

“How?” she asked, more confused than ever.

“Let us do some arithmetic. Your mother has ￡5,000. In the four-percents that can generate ￡200 per annum. I have no doubt that your uncle in trade could invest it better and probably get ￡300 but let us use 200 for the moment. Have you any idea how close to the hedgerows that is?”

“Not really.”

“Not close at all. ￡200 is enough to have a house in Meryton, all your food and clothing and two or three servants. I believe your Aunt Philips runs her home on less than that. Your mother will be distressed by her loss of consequence , but none of you will actually starve, or even live particularly poorly.”

“That makes sense.”

“Now we come to the crux of the matter. I could enter an agreement with your father that upon his death, Pemberley will contribute ￡100 per annum to your mother for her lifetime, and another ￡50 for each unmarried daughter. At that rate, she could even keep a carriage and another servant or two. The family would be of similar consequence as they would be with you as mistress of Longbourn.”

Elizabeth gasped. “Why would you do that?”

“To grant us more equal footing. If we want time to decide you must give up your security, while I am simply moving ￡5,000 into an account dedicated to sustaining your mother and sisters. I will hardly notice the loss, as the money will generate income as long as your father lives and then return to my coffers within a decade or two—but it does balance our risks a bit. It will stop the bear cold.”

“Is this a wild idea for discussion, or a scheme that you are prepared to implement?”

“I would not have suggested it if I were not serious.”

Elizabeth thought about it for quite some time, neglecting the fact that they had been standing in the path staring at each other like fools for a quarter-hour.

She finally asked. “Why take the chance? It may be little to you, but it is a great deal of money.”

“Because I have been looking for the love of my life for a decade or more, but she does not love me, or even particularly like me. I am trading an insignificant sum for a better than even chance to claim you as my wife. You are giving up some security, but also the certainty of being tied to a fool. I think we are both risking something for the chance at happiness—but you are risking more than me. If we do not marry, I will be no worse off than I am right now, but you will have given up Longbourn. ”

“It still seems overly generous on your part. Pray, explain your motivation.”

Darcy looked intently into her eyes. “My thinking on the subject is becoming clearer over time. At first, I thought I would use the security to prove to you that I am a better man than I appeared to be in Hertfordshire. A third of the way through, I began to think I wanted to prove the same to myself instead of you. In the end, it was neither of those motives.”

Thoroughly fascinated, Elizabeth stepped closer, so they were only a foot apart, and asked, “In the end?”

“In the end, I want to be a better man than I was in Hertfordshire. I do not want to establish that I was worthy of love at Netherfield but simply misunderstood, because that would not be the truth. I was raised in pride and conceit, and it took today’s conversation to make me understand that I did not behave in a manner worthy of love, or even respect. I do not want to convince you I was a better man then . I want to show you I am a better man now .”

“Would I be marrying the better man or the particular idiot?”

“The better man—though I would hope that does not negate my ability to be an idiot. Are we not all fools in love?”

Elizabeth gave him probably the first genuine smile of their acquaintance and it was one that Jane would envy. “Then it becomes a leap of faith, I suppose.”

“Yes, but with this proposal we will have time to look at the ground underneath us before we leap.”

Elizabeth smiled again, thinking about all he had said.

Being a man of action, Darcy wanted to move on to the next phase. “May I negotiate your mother and sisters’ security with your father so you can reject Mr Collins with a clear conscience?”

She stared at him hard for a moment, and then forgetting the rules of propriety entirely, she stepped forward until they nearly touched. “I think it might be simpler for you to simply ask for his consent and blessing. The seriousness and thoughtfulness of your offer, coupled with your rare ability to see the problem from my perspective proves your worthiness. I am ready to make the leap.”

“You mean?” he asked in apparent wonder.

“Yes… I mean… ask your question.”

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet, love of my life, would you do me the great honour of accepting my hand in marriage.”

“Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy. Yes! I will honour you. I will protect you. I will be your helpmeet. I will…” then she stared up into his eyes, “…love you, until my dying breath.”

Their first kiss, standing on that hidden path in Hyde Park, took both their breaths away, as well as that of the dozen spectators they had not noticed during their final tête-à-tête. Their wedding night a month later put paid to the ‘unpleasant but brief’ idea, since, apparently, when you were with the man you loved a little bit more every day, it was neither unpleasant nor brief (nor singular, for that matter). The births of their first and last children only cemented their love tighter and tighter.

Many years later, Mrs Elizabeth Darcy sat at her husband’s deathbed, offering peace, comfort, love, and assurances in the strongest of terms that he was and had been for many years, the very best of a GOOD lot.

~~ Finis ~~