To Conquer Mr. Darcy

Elizabeth felt a swell of disappointment. I should have known better than to think he would truly change, she thought. He does not wish to expose his sister to the defects of my family and our intolerable social connections. “Indeed, Mr. Darcy, I can suppose that she, like some others, might find me more appealing in the absence of my family,” she said tartly.

Darcy turned to her in obvious distress. “Miss Bennet, I fear you have mistaken my meaning. I hope that Georgiana will meet your family very soon.” Aware that he was stumbling badly in his attempt to convey himself, and fearing that he had already lost any ground he might have gained, he said, “May I speak frankly, Miss Bennet?”

“You may be as frank as you please, Mr. Darcy; I doubt that there can be worse than what I have already heard in the past,” she said, growing more heated by the minute.

Darcy cursed himself silently. “Miss Bennet, I do not deny that I richly deserve your reproaches for what I have said in the past,” he said with all the humility he could muster. “But I beg of you to listen to what I am saying now. My sister is quite painfully shy. She finds it extremely difficult to speak with people she does not know, and is accustomed to a very quiet life. If I were to bring her to Longbourn, or any other household full of unknown lively people who are unafraid to speak their minds, I can guarantee she would be unable to say a word, and would leave convinced of everyone’s dislike of her. I very much would like her to come to know you, but I cannot see any way to accomplish this unless I can find a more quiet setting for you to become acquainted.” He forced himself to pause, aware that his words were rushing out of him with some desperation.

Her silence told him he had failed, and that his hopes of forgiveness were in vain. Sick at heart, he said, “I apologize, Miss Bennet, for my clumsy words. I have obviously made a misjudgment in broaching this matter. I assure you that no offense was intended, and I am sorry to have caused you any distress. I shall no longer disrupt your morning; please be assured that I shall not trouble you again.” With a formal bow, he turned to leave.

Elizabeth was heartily ashamed of herself. To have jumped to such a conclusion could perhaps be understood, but to not allow the poor man a chance to explain himself before she began abusing him yet again— had she not learned anything from that humiliating experience at Hunsford? Was she forever to be mistaking this man? “Mr. Darcy,” she said quietly, her eyes on the ground, “I am the one who needs to apologize, for the misjudgment was mine. I arrived at an unwarranted conclusion and should not have said what I did. If you are still willing, I would like to hear what you have to say.”

Elizabeth could not bring herself to look up, but had she done so, she would have seen Darcy stop at her words, and a look of great relief come over his face. He took a moment to collect himself, and then said, “I would like that as well, Miss Bennet.”

“Perhaps you could tell me in the kind of setting Miss Darcy is most likely to be comfortable with,” Elizabeth said in a somewhat subdued voice as they began to walk again.

“I hoped you might be willing to meet her at Netherfield,” he said tentatively. “Then, perhaps, once she knows you better, I could bring her to Longbourn.”

“I would be happy to come to Netherfield, sir. Would you care to suggest a convenient time?” Elizabeth’s eyes were still downcast.

“Miss Bennet,” said Darcy in a tone of emotion. “At the moment I would rather say how sorry I am to have distressed you, and to ask if there is anything I can do to relieve your discomfort.”

Elizabeth looked up at him with a hint of a smile. “Your aunt, Lady Catherine, condescended to tell me on several occasions that I would never play the pianoforte really well unless I practiced more. By that measure, I must be developing true virtuosity in the art of feeling ashamed of things I have said to you, since I have had a great deal of practice at it.”

“The difference, perhaps, being that I derive a great deal of pleasure in listening to you play pianoforte, and I would not have you berate yourself, especially since your response was understandable given the insufferable things I have said to you in the past. I have acknowledged to myself the truth of the reproofs you made in April and I have attempted to attend to those matters, but I realize you have no cause to believe that as yet.”

Elizabeth could not begin to imagine how much those words must have cost a man of such pride. “There was also a great deal of untruth in the accusations I made that day, though I did not realize it at the time. I should apologize to you for believing without question the falsehoods of Mr. Wickham. Ever since reading your letter, I have felt ashamed of my lack of discernment.”

“Mr. Wickham’s manners can be most persuasive when he so chooses. Had I told you immediately upon seeing him in Meryton what I knew of his past, the situation would not have arisen, but since I thought it beneath me to lay my private actions open to the world, I have no one to blame but myself for your misunderstanding.”

“Sir, you are very harsh upon yourself, and seem to expect me to take no responsibility at all for making misjudgments of my own.”

“Have I not reason to be harsh upon myself? Since you are apologizing for what you see as your errors, should I not express regret for my abominable condescension and ungentleman-like behavior? I do not do so, Miss Bennet, not because I do not believe there to be cause, but because I do not believe any apology to be within my power, other than to demonstrate that I have seen the error of my ways.”

“We had best not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but I must and will hold myself responsible for the errors I have made, despite your generous attempts to exculpate me, sir.”

“Miss Bennet,” he said gravely, “perhaps we could demonstrate we have both improved in civility since that time by agreeing to begin anew and attempting to see one another without preconceptions.” If she refuses this, I know not what I shall do. Now that I have seen her again, how can I accept she will never be mine? he thought, awaiting her response with trepidation.

Elizabeth could not but be aware of the significance of his request, but was unsure what her response should be. She was relieved to have cleared the slate by expressing her regrets to him, and would be pleased by a cessation of hostilities, for the sake of Jane and Bingley if nothing else. But did she wish to allow anything more? She could not imagine developing a tender regard for Mr. Darcy, and it would be cruel to raise any false hopes in him, yet refusing this overture that he had clearly come all the way to Hertfordshire to make would certainly be hurtful as well, and she was beginning to appreciate that he was a man of greater depth than she had realized. Glancing up at him, she saw a drawn look that clearly bespoke the tension that he was feeling, and discovered she had less capacity to disregard his feelings than she would have thought.

“I would be willing to entertain the possibility that we might yet be friends, sir, but as I do not wish to raise hopes for any future understanding that might come from it, I would ask you to reconsider whether this is a path you wish to tread,” she finally said, gazing into the clouds in the distance, wondering how she would feel if he in fact demurred.

At least she did not refuse completely, he thought, surely that must be promising. Her statement was disappointing in its view of the future, but he could not forget that she had made an effort to resolve their earlier misunderstanding at some cost to her own pride, when it would have been far easier for her to simply let him go. He wondered whether her actions spoke louder than her words in this case, or whether they were no more than a manifestation of a sense of honor that would not permit her to leave him under a misconception. He could not be certain, but perhaps it was enough simply to be allowed to be with her for now. Yes, it was enough, more than enough. “I believe that I shall take my chances, Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth felt a not completely unpleasant sort of tension from his response. She had not thought he would be so open about his intentions. Any other gentleman of her acquaintance would have agreed to be friends, and not suggested a desire for more at this stage. What was it he had said at Hunsford? Disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Clearly, she would need to accustom herself to a greater degree of frankness than she usually encountered. “I do not know whether you are brave, foolhardy, or both, Mr. Darcy,” she said, attempting to lighten the atmosphere.

“‘Nothing ventured is nothing gained,’” he replied with a smile.

“‘Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,’ Mr. Darcy,” she said in lively retort.

“‘Fortune favors the brave,’ Miss Bennet.”

“Let me see… ‘the fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.’”

Darcy smiled wickedly. “‘None but the brave deserves the fair.’”