Darcy’s Story

“She had the effrontery to reply that she would make no promise of the kind.”

Darcy let out his breath silently, as his aunt went on, with mounting indignation.

“Indeed, she said that, in any case, her giving such a promise would not make a marriage between you and my dear Anne at all more probable.”

He certainly did not dissent from that view, but said nothing as his aunt continued.

“I told her that I am no stranger to the particulars of her youngest sister’s infamous elopement. I know it all; that the young man’s marrying her was a patched-up business, at the expense of her father and uncles. Such a girl is of course totally unsuitable to be your sister by marriage, as is the son of your late father’s steward to be your brother.”

Darcy reflected to himself that, if his aunt had really “known it all,” her words would have been much more extreme. Her reaction if she had been aware that Darcy himself had brought the whole matter about could only be imagined. He did not remind himself that he might have shared his aunt’s views not so many months ago.

“I charged her that she had no regard for your honour and credit, that a connection with her must disgrace you in the eyes of everybody.”

“She replied that she was resolved to act in that manner, which would, in her own opinion, constitute her own happiness, without reference to me, or to anyone so wholly unconnected to her.”

“When I told her that she appeared to be determined to ruin you in the opinion of all your friends, and make you the contempt of the world,

“She replied that neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude, had any possible claim on her, and that no principle of either would be violated by her marriage with you.”

His aunt paused and, getting no response from him, she then said, with every appearance of expecting a favourable reply, “Darcy, you will appreciate why I was most seriously displeased. You must give me the assurances which that ungrateful young woman has withheld.”

To reinforce her point, she went on to repeat sentiments that, although less explicitly, she had told him many times before.

“As my nephew, you and Anne are formed for each other. Both of you are descended on the maternal side from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable, honourable, and ancient, though untitled families. You have been destined for each other by the voice of every member of our respective houses. You are not to be divided by the upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune!”

There was a silence for a few moments and she awaited his reply.

Darcy found himself quite calm, now that the time had come for him to speak. He looked his aunt directly in the eye as he began.

“I have the greatest respect for my cousin Anne, and for you, and that will continue,” he said. “However, I would wish to achieve in my own marriage the happiness and affection which my mother and father shared. As to whom I should marry, that is a private matter which I do not intend to discuss with anyone. It is not my wish to offend, but the intervention of others is not calculated to assist me, or to influence my choice.”

Lady Catherine regarded him with alarm and dismay, and her voice rose to an angrier pitch as she said, “Are you refusing to give me the assurance I seek? She is a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family! Such a marriage would be against the wishes of all your friends! Your alliance would be a disgrace; her name would never even be mentioned by any of us.”

She looked again at Darcy for a response, but he remained silent.

“Are you refusing to honour the agreement between your dear mother and myself? Will you not promise me never to enter into such an engagement?”

“My mother told me of no such agreement. I know myself of none. I have no wish to upset you, and I have every respect for my mother’s memory,” Darcy replied, quietly. “But, as I have already said, there are other considerations to which I give priority.”

“I cannot believe,” said his aunt, “that you are willing to put aside the wishes of your nearest family in this matter!”

Darcy looked at her without expression, and said nothing.

And although Lady Catherine continued in the same vein for fully fifteen more minutes, he would not yield.

Eventually, his aunt left, in as angry a mood as he had ever seen her, without the assurances that she had sought.

32

Darcy found himself with such a mixture of emotions after Lady Catherine had left that it was some time before he was able to think calmly.

He was at first at a loss to know how the idea of an alliance between himself and Miss Elizabeth Bennet might have occurred to his aunt.

Then he recalled that Mrs. Collins’ family lived in have Hertfordshire. The news of Bingley’s engagement would travelled to his aunt by that route, and might have prompted speculation about a liaison between himself and the sister of Jane Bennet. It would be also from her chaplain, Mr. Collins, that Lady Catherine would have heard of the recent marriage between Lydia Bennet and Wickham.

His aunt had apparently therefore made a special journey to Hertfordshire, for the sole purpose of obtaining a promise from Elizabeth Bennet which, in her own words only four months ago in Kent, that lady should have been more than happy to give.

Yet she had refused to provide such an assurance.

He could well imagine that Miss Elizabeth might have been more than offended by Lady Catherine’s manner of address. Indeed, he had to acknowledge that he and she shared the disadvantage of some close relations who cared little for discreet conversation. However, he did not believe that his aunt’s outspoken comments would have prevented Elizabeth from speaking her views plainly.

“You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.”

He remembered only too painfully those words she had said to him only a few months ago in the parsonage at Hunsford; and others—

“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you.”

And, above all,

“Had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner...”

How those words had tortured him since then! What a contrast did Miss Elizabeth’s answer to Lady Catherine now appear, which had just been repeated to him,

“ . . . that his wife must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine?”

Those words touched in him such depths of emotion as he had rarely felt able to admit to himself before.

They indicated a state of mind in the speaker which had seemed to be impossible only a few months ago. He found it difficult to believe that Lady Catherine would have had any reason to fabricate such a remark.

Was it conceivable that Elizabeth Bennet had really said those words? For the first time since she had rejected his addresses in April, he felt some confidence that she might have changed her mind about marriage to him.

Darcy had seen at Rosings that she would have not been in any awe of Lady Catherine. Surely, she would not have hesitated to tell his aunt what she thought, if she had been irrevocably decided against him?

Darcy reflected that he should at least be grateful to Lady Catherine for making the journey to Hertfordshire, if only for the nature of the intelligence which she had brought back with her, and his first thought was to return to