So, Mr. Bennet did pay attention to his daughters, thought John. “I may have hurt her, sir, but the pain I inflicted was nothing to what you have done to her. You have ignored her for her entire life, enough so that she was even hesitant as to whether I should seek your approval for our marriage. She doesn’t need it, either legally or emotionally. I was the one who insisted we at least try.”
Mr. Bennet was stunned silent, though his mouth flapped open as if he wished to defend himself.
“Not only did you ignore everything she has ever done, but for most of her formative years, your only feedback was criticism in the form of teasing. Not one word of praise from you has she ever heard. Even her mother, who never understood anything she did, gave her more praise than you. Despite this, and despite everyone around her treating her the same way, she has taughtherself to be one of the most accomplished ladies in London, including all the grace and manners necessary for such acclaim.”
Mr. Bennet rallied. “I knew well enough how much she had improved. Did she not tell you that I haven’t said a single negative thing to her in the last two years or more? As far as I can tell, she is the most outstanding of my daughters, though not necessarily the most intelligent or the most witty.”
The more Mr. Bennet praised Mary, the more John’s stomach began to protest at this conversation. It was sickening to see the man so aware of the treasure he had possessed yet know that he had done nothing to protect her and nothing to nurture her.
Mary had been correct. They should have simply married from Pemberley and then sent a letter to inform her parents after it was done.
“I grow sick of this game of blame,” said John. “I admit that I hurt her two years ago, but she has forgiven me and has agreed to become my wife. Do we have your blessing or not?”
Mr. Bennet hesitated. He clearly wished to continue his criticism. John half expected he would. However, when he finally spoke, he said, “I am afraid I cannot grant that immediately. After all, I know nothing about you other than the fact that two years ago you had enough money to rent Netherfield. Can you at least provide a comfortable, stable home for my daughter?”
John put his hand in his pocket and pulled out one of his cards. “Mr. Porter is a pseudonym. This is my real name.”
Mr. Bennet looked at the card and his jaw visibly dropped. “You must be joking,” he said after he had pulled himself together. “Anyone can order cards to be printed to say anything they wish.”
“It is accurate,” said John. “Mr. Phillips can testify to it, since I had to use my real name when I signed the lease. If you require further validation, Darcy can vouch for me. He is, after all, my cousin.”
“I suppose if you were going to pretend to be a lord, you would not choose to be the one lord who is closest to my family,” mused Mr. Bennet. “Well, I could not ask for a more comfortable home or stable income than that. The whole country knows that Matlock is currently one of the wealthier earldoms in the kingdom.”
John was satisfied, and he began organizing his thoughts to bring this uncomfortable conversation to a close.
His thoughts were completely knocked off course, however, when Mr. Bennet said, “Are you certain a man of your station wishes to marry someone like Mary? I admit, I was quite surprised when Mr. Darcy proposed to Elizabeth, but there I can at least see the appeal. Mary, while quite accomplished, is fundamentally boring in both appearance and behavior.”
John felt his hand close into a fist as he sternly repressed the desire to punch this old man’s face in. “You know nothing,” he said, “and I pity you for it. This conversation is over. I will tell Mary what took place here, and I suspect she will wish to be married from Pemberley. Unless you receive a specific invitation from Mary herself, you, sir, are not invited to attend.”
John rose from his seat and left the room before Mr. Bennet could find words to respond. Once in the hall, he turned toward the front door, but he paused. After the disastrous conversation with Mr. Bennet, John would not have been surprised to find out that the old man never told Mrs. Bennet anything about it.
He sighed and turned towards the parlor, hoping to find the lady of the house there.
He was in luck.
“Ah, Mr. Porter,” she said with a smile. “I did not know you had returned to the neighborhood.”
“I am only here for today to complete some business,” he said. “I will be returning home tomorrow.”
“And where is home for you?” she asked politely.
“Derbyshire.”
“Derbyshire? Why, my son-in-law is from there. Perhaps you have heard of him as he is very well known in those parts. His name is Mr. Darcy.”
“I am quite familiar with him, Madam, since he is my cousin.”
“Your cousin? The only cousins of his that I am aware of are Colonel Fitzwilliam and the Earl of Matlock, and neither of them go by the name of Porter.”
John explained once again who he was, though he gave more explanation as to why he had gone by a pseudonym since, after the shock wore off, she was quite curious.
Eventually, he managed to bring the conversation around to the subject of Mary. “You should know, Madam, that I will be marrying your daughter, Mary, in about a month or so. My purpose in visiting here was to obtain your husband’s blessing. He gave it but in such an insulting manner that I am not comfortable bringing Mary back here for our wedding.”
Mrs. Bennet’s cheerful expression fell. “I can well believe it. He has never had much patience with any of his daughters, but Mary has often received the least attention from either of us. I have tried to make up for it these last few years, but she is so independent now that she simply ignores me. I suppose it is ajustified return for the years when I ignored her.” Tears gathered in the lady’s eyes.
“Please tell her that I wish her all the happiness she can grasp,” said Mrs. Bennet. “I can tell that you care for her very much, and I am certain you shall take good care of my girl. Though she may not believe you when you tell her, I will certainly miss her company.”
“I will tell her,” promised John. “I am afraid my time here is up, but I wish you well, Mrs. Bennet.”
