That was how our tenth encounter began, though one could easily assert that, since we had been together since the ninth, it was not really another encounter but simply an extension.
That said, I expected the parlour to be particularly trying, so judged it worthy of the distinction.
Mrs Bennet was in full flower, pummelling Bingley with endless repetition of the eldest Miss Bennet’s many charms (most of which he already knew), while the two youngest were talking behind their hands and giggling like children.
The youngest was older than my Elizabeth had been when she came to meet a man alone and anonymously to sell some pistols; a dangerous and foolhardy, though very brave and ambitious endeavour. The two youngest, who were all at least a year older seemed incapable of meeting each other to tie a bonnet. The difference was rather stark. On the other hand, Miss Lydia was younger than my sister had been when she planned to elope with a bounder, so I thought it might be wise to keep my hypocrisy in check.
The middle sister, Miss Mary, engaged my sympathies almost immediately because she looked lost in the melee. She would try to interject something here or there, but she was always just a step too late—a malady I could well understand.
It seems odd that I got all that in the brief interlude before Mr Bennet made introductions, but I am not as clever as all that. Elizabeth’s father deliberately stood there for several minutes, looking for all the world like he was enjoying the silliness before he finally cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.
I was rather astonished that the lady of the house failed to notice fresh meat in her parlour, but I suppose she had simplyignored me when I failed to dance with one of her daughters on initial introduction. She was entirely focused on the bird in the hand; though if she carried on with her blathering, he was likely to become the bird that escaped back to the bush. Bingley was more amiable than I was, but even he had his limits.
Mrs Bennet eventually noticed our entrance and looked me over curiously at first, then avariciously when she noticed Elizabeth had her hand on my arm and my hand covering hers.
Mr Bennet eventually did his basic duty by first clearing his throat, then staring down all his assorted ladies until he eventually got relative silence.
“Family, allow me to present Mr Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire. Mr Darcy, my wife, Mrs Bennet, and my other daughters, Jane, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia.”
“La, he is so handsome,” Miss Lydia blurted out, and then giggled with her next elder sister while Mr Bennet smirked at them.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr Darcy,” Mrs Bennet said in the honeyed tone Miss Bingley routinely employed. I liked the tone no better on a matron then a miss.
“The pleasure is mine,” I said, omitting the obvious suffix that all the pleasure came from Elizabeth’s presence. I imagined I would eventually like her family well enough (or at least get along with them), but it seemed obvious it would take a while, and some serious intervention for all except the eldest Miss Bennet.
Mr Bennet had exploited the situation for all it was worth, so he made the announcement. For all his faults, I had no complaints about how he presented our suit. In a very workmanlike and efficient manner he gave the news.
“Mr Darcy and Elizabeth have been acquainted in town for a few years, through connections with the Gardiners. This morning, he asked for her hand, she accepted; I gave my consentand blessing. They are engaged! Mr Darcy has other obligations, so they will wed within the month.”
I thought hisblessingwas more like pulling teeth, but I would take it since he was cleverly telling the story we wanted told, though Elizabeth and I needed to add some meat to those bones quickly.
Bingley and Miss Bennet showed at least some compatibility because they both looked exceedingly pleased. They were obviously surprised, but neither seemed the least bit perturbed by the speed of our engagement, nor did they seem in any great hurry to plumb the mystery of Smith and Jones.
Miss Mary looked confused by the whole affair, and I thought we would need to sit down with her to explain things (or more likely, Elizabeth would).
The two youngest said a great number of things that I will not repeat, and I only wish I could spare my own memory as well as this journal. I gathered that Miss Lydia was the leader, and Miss Kitty the follower—a situation to neither’s benefit—so I thought I would probably have to separate them.
Mrs Bennet exceeded all expectations, even for the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh:
"Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! Mr Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it really true? Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! how rich and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have! Jane’s is nothing to it–nothing at all. I am so pleased–so happy. Such a charming man!–so handsome! so tall! Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Every thing that is charming! One daughter married at only twenty! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me. I shall go distracted."
I wondered where she got an estimate of my income, but not for long. It was common knowledge. It also seemed obvious she considered Bingley’s subjugation all but complete; but I alsosupposed he would either be caught by my new sister Jane, or he would not. That said, he had in the space of five minutes gone from courting the daughter of Longbourn to courting the sister of Pemberley, so his odds had improved markedly. At the very least, his sisters’ likely objections would be curtailed.
I fervently hoped that ‘go distracted’ meant ‘stop talking’ but no such luck. She barely even took a breath before launching into all that needed to be done to facilitate the wedding, with the first order of business being delaying long enough to make it a grand event (good luck with that).
Mr Bennet sat down and watched the spectacle as if he wanted to memorise every squeak and giggle for posterity, but by then Elizabeth had taken a better hold of my arm, and I was happy enough to just let the waves of sound wash over me like a rock in the beach. Elizabeth was giving me her brightest, most beautiful smile, and I wanted to shake her mother and tell her to open her eyes to the beauty she had been trying to tear down for years. I did not, of course, but the temptation was nearly overwhelming.
Bingley came to give me a hearty handshake, complete with backslap that I was certain he had been itching to do for years. Jane did the same for Elizabeth with roughly the same enthusiasm, but in a much calmer and more genteel fashion. Miss Mary joined timidly until Elizabeth engulfed her in a close embrace. The youngest two just kept giggling and spouting inanities, so I ignored them until they were eventually prevailed upon to give their own rough congratulations.
The next half-hour amounted to an interrogation, the likes of which should have been done by Mr Bennet, but the office was left to the lady of the house. I suspected that once I admitted I could afford a wife, the father considered the problem solved—or in a more prudential light, he probably realised his wife wouldbeat the subject to death no matter what he did, so he was saving himself one repetition of many.
I saw no reason to prevaricate. I had already given Elizabeth the basics of my income and connections the previous day, and they were all common knowledge anyway. She knew I was grandson and nephew to earls, had an income of ten thousand, was a first circle dandy (as she put it), had a house in the best part of town, was well acquainted with so-called good society, and so forth. Elizabeth had seemed stunned by how far her circles would change and looked overwhelmed until I reminded her that she met a stranger to sell duelling pistols at fourteen, and nothing having to do with marrying me would be any harder or more dangerous than that. I also mentioned I still had the pistols in case of need.
Giving the same information to Mrs Bennet took the better part of two hours, with me occasionally asking Bingley to translate from English to English when the lady of the house could not seem to understand basic facts. To this day I have no idea if she had trouble comprehending her daughter’s change in status (and likely benefits to the rest of the family), or she just enjoyed hearing it so much she kept asking for her own amusement. I eventually decided she shared certain defects with her husband and let it go. It was not as if I was unaccustomed to hard-headed women after exposure to Lady Catherine and Miss Bingley, or that I might have to endure her presence often since I lived miles away.
We eventually stayed for dinner after dispatching a note to Netherfield. I thought I might enjoy listening to Miss Bingley whine about ruining her dinner for a half-hour before dropping the news of my engagement just to see if Mr Bennet had a point, but it was an uncharitable thought (tempting, though).
We eventually had to return to Netherfield, and Elizabeth and I agreed to another dawn rendezvous since we still hada great deal to discuss. It was abusing the rules of propriety abominably, but was a modest infraction by our standards and I was in no way ready to submit to chaperonage.
