The Investigation

The Investigation

Darcy entered Lucas Lodge a fortnight later like a bloodhound—though obviously using his ears instead of his nose.

He was a methodical man, though if some favoured terms like plodding or staid , one could not necessarily argue. He had spent the hour before bed after the assembly filling in notes about all the ladies he met and their families in a pocketbook. He always carried one when he was working, but not usually to social engagements, so he had to work from memory. Later, he carried the journal and a pencil everywhere and dedicated a dozen pages to outlining all the people he met. It seemed his angel-hunt was to be more difficult than anticipated.

Gaining more intelligence was not a particular challenge once he set his mind to the task and put his back into it. He was vaguely aware one could catch more flies with honey than vinegar, so once he kindly queried Miss Harrington about the efficacy of his recommendation for her saddle, the conversation flowed easily enough. Though he could not remember all the details from previous discussions, he had enough specifics that he could easily talk to most of the ladies and half the gentlemen in the room without extraordinary effort. Over subsequent weeks, it became easier with practice.

Miss Bartlet’s father seemed to like a remedy for a stomach issue Darcy had learned from his own father a decade earlier. Miss Lightholder’s sister had written that very day, was apparently doing well in school, and did not seem to hate it. Master Duncan Clarke had regained his enthusiasm for mathematics, though that for the estate he would inherit was less in evidence. Mr Godwin was enthusiastic about a new drainage system for his southern field he wanted Darcy to see, even if the gentleman had no interest in his unwed daughter. Miss Haversham’s brother had written from Rome on his tour of Italy, writing a full page on the Colosseum alone .

Darcy finally met the younger Bennet sisters and discarded them from any consideration for being his angel (or even fit to leave the schoolroom). He found the youngest, Miss Lydia, particularly annoying, with hardly a thought in her head that did not involve redcoats. He naturally made no mention of his cousin, a decorated colonel in the regulars, and most certainly did not relay his cousin’s opinion that most of the militia were pompous dandyprats. The fact that Mrs Bennet promoted the child over her other daughters made Darcy nearly ill, especially with more than a decade in years and two decades in sense separating them.

The second-youngest, Miss Catherine (he could not quite manage ‘Kitty’) was well on her way to being the same. He suspected she just needed someone better to follow, so he surreptitiously made a note on the last page of his pocketbook, to see if he could somehow promote the idea. He had no idea how to go about it, but assumed dogged persistence might have some effect, and he was not all that busy.

Miss Mary was almost as irritating as her younger sisters, but she was not the least bit malicious, and Darcy suspected she was just awkward and lonely. That was a malady he could well understand, so he put a bit of effort into dragging her out of the grip of Fordyce, whom he considered a worse influence than Miss Lydia, liquor, or Laudanum. It eventually became clear the effort would be a long slog with progress measured in inches, so he added yet another item to his growing list.

Regarding the list, he reckoned if he was forced to be sociable, he may as well be useful while he was at it, and there was a certain thrill in a challenge. It was not as if he expected any intellectual stimulation at Netherfield. Since he would be in the area for two months without much to do other than spending an hour or two a day trying to pound some sense into Bingley while avoiding Miss Bingley, he should be able to accomplish something. It had been some time since he really challenged himself .

It took about twenty minutes to establish that Miss Amy Long was not his angel, primarily because that was how long it took to get her to speak enough words above a whispered monosyllable to make the determination.

At first, he dismissed the possibility out of hand because anyone who would not speak to a gentleman in polite conversation would certainly not be capable of attacking him from behind, without an introduction, to correct a megrim. He was, however, reminded of the wife of one of the Pemberley tenants. She was quiet as a mouse unless someone was sick in her company, at which time she became as domineering as a drill sergeant—and Lord Help You if your compliance with her instruction was not quick enough for her liking.

He persevered with Miss Amy because her awkwardness was not her fault, and that was how a true gentleman should act. He took to the problem in his usual methodical (or plodding) manner until after a half-hour he found a novel she shared an interest in with his sister, Georgiana. Since Darcy had read it to see if it was suitable (barely), he could speak with some authority. She was clearly not his angel, but by then she had made enough good points that Darcy thought to use some of them in a discussion with his sister. Since she had yet to recover from a terrible betrayal during the summer, Darcy was happy for any morsel he could use to cheer her up or at least distract her from her woes momentarily.

About halfway through his discussion, just when it was getting interesting, they were joined by Master Jason Browning, who listened for a few minutes before venturing his opinion.

“I cannot abide such rubbish. Give me Tom Jones or Tristian Shandy any day.”

Darcy was annoyed to see much of his progress over the previous half-hour destroyed with one comment, and an interesting discussion reverted to stuttering monosyllables.

He asked rather snappishly, “I see! I suppose you found no interest in the contrast between the main character’s rational approach to marriage and Lady Delacour's tumultuous personal life.”

“What do you mean?” Browning asked confusedly.

“ I mean —we are discussing one of the main plot points of Belinda. Since only a muttonhead would presume an opinion on a book they have not even read, let alone understood, you must have a more nuanced view than simply calling it rubbish. I only ask because my experience at school showed that to be a common failing among men who prefer to belittle things they do not understand. Naturally, I would never accuse you of any such thing—I simply invite you to explain your view in sufficient detail for Miss Long to debate your points.”

The man seemed nonplussed as expected, so Darcy ignored him thereafter. The discussion went on for another few minutes, but before he left, Miss Long was speaking well again.

It would be some months before Darcy learned he had inadvertently triggered a courtship by calling a man a muttonhead.

~~~~~

Darcy found himself thinking hard over the next week or so about the rather intractable problem of Miss Mary Bennet. Her skills at the pianoforte were more than adequate when she had the right music, but she made poor choices that matched neither her skill nor her audience. The same could be said for her voice, though even more emphatically. The issue was how to tell her that without giving offense, or worse yet, causing her to redouble her efforts in a direction that would never be productive, when more appealing choices were readily available.

He was perfectly well aware that a month earlier he would have simply sat in judgement, or worse yet, ridiculed her with Miss Bingley. However, with his newfound ambition to earn the respect of his unknown angel, he was finding the challenge more exhilarating than annoying, much to his surprise and chagrin.

The conundrum was extended when Miss Lydia convinced Miss Mary to play for dancing, though he had a hard time deciding if Miss Lydia was being cruel or playful (he occasionally found about half the ladies beyond his comprehension). With the introduction of music, he saw one more thing that might have annoyed him a month earlier, but now it just amused. It was not as if he was having fun or progressing in his search while he sat around thinking about Miss Mary’s playing and moralizing.

His observations of the dance were interrupted by Sir William. The former mayor was a little bit silly, and a touch pompous, but then again, aren’t we all. They spoke of houses in town and St James. Darcy thought he had done the gentleman a good turn by politely listening, at no real cost to himself, because he could still devote half his mind to his conundrum.

He was slightly startled, but not especially displeased, when Sir William abruptly changed from a flanking attack to a frontal assault.

"My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you." And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr Darcy who, though surprised, was not unwilling to receive it.

In truth, Darcy had no objection whatsoever to dancing with Miss Eliza Drake. He had met her earlier in the evening and learned she was a pleasant young lady of decided opinions. He found it refreshing, especially after an evening with Miss Bingley agreeing with everything he said, even when he contradicted himself twice in a row.

“It would be my pleasure, Miss Eliza,” he replied gallantly. Just because she was not his angel did not mean she was not worth the trouble of dancing with, and it was not as if his conversation with Sir William was all that scintillating. He also knew she had two sisters he had yet to meet, and it was entirely possible one of them was the woman he sought.

Miss Mary was playing shorter dances than at assemblies so people could change partners more frequently. He soon found himself dancing a lively reel with Miss Eliza, with very little time to talk. He would have considered the silence a boon for most of his life, but he was now finding it less to his taste because it did not advance his project. After all, listening to other dancers was as good a way to hunt angels as any.

That said, with a bit of strategic eavesdropping, he was slightly amazed to learn that he had somehow, some way, managed to convince the entire neighbourhood that he was amiable yet unavailable for matrimony. He could not remember anything specific, but as he overheard whispers here and there it seemed most were convinced that he was a pleasant dance and conversation partner, but not one to get attached to. He wondered if he would manage to replicate his success in future (though in his fondest dreams he had an entirely different solution to the matrimonial intent problem).

At the end of the reel, he bowed and offered his partner refreshment, but she had other ideas.

“Mr Darcy, you seem like a man who likes to solve problems.”

“I find that truer than not lately, though I have not always been thus,” he added ruefully.

“May I speculate that a man like you might enjoy a challenge?” she asked rather impertinently.

Darcy laughed slightly, and indicated she was welcome to do her worst.

With that, she took his arm and led him across the room to two other ladies watching the next set form.

“Mr Darcy, may I present my sisters, Miss Evelyn Drake and Miss Edith Drake?”

The standard bows and curtsies were exchanged, though the eldest Miss Drake had a rough go of it, owing to the need to lean rather heavily on a cane .

After appropriate greetings were exchanged, Miss Eliza continued, “Here is your challenge, should you decide to accept. My elder sister never dances for obvious reasons. I should like you to work out a way for her to do so.”

Darcy found himself more intrigued by the challenge than put out. “Has no one ever attempted to remedy your situation, Miss Drake.”

“Eliza is the only one who holds such ambitions, sir. I can barely walk, let alone dance, and have neither desire nor intention to make a fool of myself.”

“Aaaaahhhhhhh…” he replied slowly, in what he hoped sounded more like wise old sage than confused schoolboy. “I see your predicament. You assume that trying and failing will make you look foolish?”

She blushed and stared at the floor, but finally nodded.

He leaned in closer to almost whisper, “I have tried and failed many times, Miss Drake. I can assure you in no uncertain terms, that I do not like failure one little bit—but most of those, when seen in a prudential light, acted to improve my character.

“My father liked to quote Seneca: It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that things are difficult .

“I cannot blame you for not trying to catch the wind, but perhaps you might be generous enough to prevent me from feeling foolish?”

She stared in confusion. “I do not understand.”

He chuckled and was pleased to see her relax marginally—perhaps enough to be just tight as a bowstring, but at least one that was not yet drawn.

“I am a scion of an ancient estate, trained from birth to solve challenges. Your sister has thrown the gauntlet, and I would find it beyond foolish to simply slink off, unable to even make the attempt. What would my ancestors think? ”

That did it, and Miss Drake burst into laughter. He still thought her nervous, but at least he had distracted her from her own fears.

“How about it, Miss Drake? Shall we look foolish together? I can assure you that failure to answer the challenge would be far more humiliating to me than you.”

Still laughing, she shook her finger at him. “Let us see what you and your ancestors are made of, good sir.”

With a laugh, he asked the ladies to await his return, then walked quickly across the room to confer with Bingley and several ladies.

Five minutes later, he returned with what looked like most of the Bennet family.

“What think you, Miss Lydia? Can you manage it?”

"Oh!" said Lydia stoutly, "I am not afraid; for though I am the youngest, I’m the tallest.”

“What exactly is it ?” asked Miss Drake nervously.

“La! Dancing, of course! Ready, Mr Darcy?”

Darcy turned to signal Miss Mary, who began the slow tune he requested. Darcy bowed and held his hand, while Miss Lydia took the cane from Miss Drake and handed it off to Mrs Bennet who had come along to see what all the fuss was about. Miss Lydia boldly placed Miss Drake’s arm over her shoulders, grabbed her waist, and bodily manhandled her into the dance, using herself as a replacement for the cane.

Darcy took up his position, and they began the slow, stately moves of the minuet. Bingley and Miss Bennet joined, as did Miss Catherine with Captain Carter, and Miss Lucas with an officer Darcy did not know.

The dance proceeded in fits and starts. Miss Drake was quite self-conscious at the start, but Miss Lydia chattered incessantly whilst treating every misstep as a grand adventure, laughing gaily.

Darcy and Miss Lydia’s reflexes were quick enough to avoid any collisions, so things proceeded much better than anyone had any right to expect. Miss Mary kept an eye on the proceedings and varied the tempo as necessary to keep everyone on their toes.

By the end of the exercise, Miss Lydia and Miss Drake were laughing together, and the entire company was having a marvellous time.

At the end of the dance, Darcy could see that Miss Drake was tired, so he thanked the ladies for their service, and offered his arm to take her to a chair. While he went to fetch punch, Miss Lydia sat down and chattered happily with her about how much fun it was, and how very impressed the officers must have been, and how she would gladly engage with Miss Drake for any and all future dances she might need, though if Miss Eliza should eat a bit more than a bird she might be able to help her sister, though Kitty might well be able to take her place, for even though she was two years older, she was still shorter and not quite so robust, though would it not be wonderful to have her own beau someday to —

Darcy finally came back with punch for all the ladies, to find them still chattering happily away, so he considered his work for the evening complete.

Miss Bingley naturally had a few nasty things to say about what a tedious way it was to spend an evening, to which Darcy just ignored her as was becoming his habit. He hated to admit that his thoughts previously had more in common with Miss Bingley than her brother. For a while he became quite irritated with her, particularly when he was embarking on his new adventure, but then a new thought struck him.

Since he learnt how to enjoy himself, he mostly found Miss Bingley’s pique easy to ignore.