The Art of Apology (Happiness in Marriage)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

D arcy sat through the Bennets’ call—which fortunately was not prolonged—without saying more than murmured greetings. He ought to have retreated to another room as soon as he heard they were there, but something had kept him in the drawing room with Bingley and his family having a rather repetitive conversation about travel. The Bennet ladies had come to deliver an invitation. Mrs Bennet had barely looked at him when she assured him they would be happy to see him at Longbourn; her chin had been pointed in the right direction but not her eyes. Her voice, like her manner, had lacked the warmth she displayed when speaking to Bingley and his relations.

For the remainder of the visit, Darcy had remained silent and observant. While he had not been able to avoid seeing—or hearing—the younger Miss Bennets and their mother, what chiefly captivated him was Miss Elizabeth. What a conundrum she was! He did not know what to think of their exchange the previous day or what he ought to do next. Other than curtseying upon arrival, she had done nothing to acknowledge his presence, which only added to his confusion.

Disregard the matter and do my utmost to forget about her and her family. How I wish I could quit Netherfield immediately! Once Bingley demonstrated that he was becoming accustomed to his new duties, Darcy would leave.

For a minute or two after the Bennets’ departure, Darcy stayed sitting in the same chair, not truly listening to the conversation taking place around him, until the evident frustration in Bingley’s tone drew his attention.

“Well, I think it was very kind of her,” Bingley said. Catching Darcy’s eye, he continued, “Do you not agree that it is kind of Mrs Bennet to arrange a dinner to welcome us to the neighbourhood?”

Darcy shrugged. “Kind, yes, but also a rather dreary prospect.”

Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley tittered.

“I think it sounds like a jolly good time!” Bingley exclaimed, his face beginning to resemble a ripe plum. “It will be an excellent opportunity to know my new neighbours. I want them to have a good impression of us all, which means I expect you to be on your best behaviour, Caroline.”

Miss Bingley rolled her eyes. “I shall endeavour not to show the discomfort I feel amongst these people. Will that do?”

“Very nicely,” Bingley said through clenched teeth. He spoke no further, but his eyes flickered towards Darcy, who suspected his friend was recalling that he had done nothing to hide his disgust at the assembly .

That cursed evening! How I wish I had suffered a headache or had found another excuse not to attend.

“The woman is unlikely to serve even one decent ragout,” Hurst said. “But it is important to establish connexions with what gentry exists near one’s estate, or so my parents always say.”

“There you have it!” Bingley said, clapping his hands together. “In three days’ time, we shall go to Longbourn. I am already anticipating seeing the Bennets again.”

And I am looking forward to seeing Miss Elizabeth again. Initially taken aback by the realisation, Darcy soon recognised its value. He would again apologise, this time being sure not to sound as dismissive and unwilling as he had the day before. The task would be done properly, he would better mask his disdain for the people of Meryton in the future, and Bingley could happily anticipate however many months he chose to pass in the county that had been beloved by his late mother.

Elizabeth continued to be confused by her father’s behaviour. He was his usual self with her and, as far as she knew, Jane, but she happened to witness him speaking to her younger sisters, which was unusual; he seldom sought any of them out. The first occasion was when she and Mary were reading in the parlour shortly before dinner on Monday. They sat in different corners of the room, and when her father entered it, he glanced at her and then went to sit with Mary. Curious, Elizabeth kept her book open in her lap but ceased reading. Instead, she strained her ears to listen to their conversation. It might be wrong, but she reasoned that if he wanted to keep the subject secret, he would not have spoken to Mary with her nearby.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

To no great surprise, it was a book of sermons. In Elizabeth’s opinion, its only value was as a sleep aid.

“Ah. I do not believe I have read it myself,” Mr Bennet said. “What advice do you find in it?”

Mary spoke for several minutes, reciting the dubious lessons she had discovered in the tome. Upon occasion, Mr Bennet’s eyebrows would rise slightly until he abruptly lowered them, giving Elizabeth the impression he was struggling to appear interested and not disgusted.

After several minutes, he said, “So, this…gentleman argues that proper young ladies should always be silent when in company with young men, apart from brief comments on the most uncontroversial subjects?”

It was almost enough to make Elizabeth laugh out loud. As if she would ever behave in such a manner.

“He does,” Mary confirmed. “Whatever education we might have, it can never rival that of a man, and neither can our understanding of the world. Our innocence might lead us to say or do something that gives the impression we are flirting or might be open to…inappropriate behaviour. It will make us seem lacking in proper seriousness and deference, and no man wants to marry a silly woman, to have such a person as his wife and mother to his children.”

Instantly, Elizabeth understood Mary better than she thought she ever had. Their father had married an ignorant woman—much to the detriment of all their daughters—and their two youngest sisters were on the path to becoming excessively silly, unduly coquettish, and utterly empty-headed and ridiculous. She fairly burned to know how he would respond; he kept her and Mary waiting for a long moment, so long that Mary spoke before he did.

“It is a woman’s job to ensure the gentleman in her life knows that she views him as superior, that she will always do as he directs and put her own opinions and needs second to his.”

Elizabeth could see why many gentlemen would find it an appealing thought, but she would be miserable to be shackled to a man who expected blind obedience, who never gave a care to what she wanted and felt. It was how Mr Darcy would act, which was why she would never like him or even tolerate his company. A true, honourable gentleman would think first of ensuring his wife and daughters were comfortable and happy.

Her cheeks heated when she realised that her father might favour such an unequal arrangement. It was true that men were accorded more rights to decide for themselves and the ladies under their protection, but what the law said and how people acted did not always align. There was no denying that her father did not provide a particularly good example of how a gentleman ought to treat his wife, and, with regret, Elizabeth admitted he did his daughters no favours by refusing to be involved in their education.

Her observation of Mary and him was no longer surreptitious; she needed to know how he would respond. If he did nothing to counter Mary’s view, she would have to for her sister’s well-being.

Mr Bennet cleared his throat and said, “I believe there is an in-between that would serve both ladies and gentlemen better. A lady should always strive to behave respectably, but one who is too reserved, or excessively sombre, is unlikely to find many people who want to talk to her—especially at an occasion where they expect gaiety. And consider that if a young lady never speaks, if she is reluctant to share what interests her, how might gentlemen or other ladies discover whether they would enjoy being her friend or husband? There is nothing wrong with sharing your opinion—as long as you are willing to listen to and accept other people’s opinions in return.”

Mary furrowed her brow, and he continued. “Consider how Jane and Lizzy act in company. No one can fault Jane’s manners, though I suspect she keeps a little too much of herself hidden from the world. Some would say that Lizzy shares her opinions too freely. That sort of boldness will appeal to some but be disapproved of by others. I happen to like it, but your mother fears it will mean Lizzy remains unwed. I suspect the right man will come along, one who appreciates her quick wit and liveliness.”

Elizabeth blushed to hear herself spoken of in such a fashion. She was aware of her mother’s sentiments, but was there some message her father wished to impart to her? He must know she could hear him.

“My recommendation to you and your younger sisters is to choose which of them would best suit you as a model to follow—not to replicate or attempt to emulate but as a guide for how to behave in society,” Mr Bennet said before pausing and checking his pocket watch. “We must prepare for dinner. Perhaps we shall return to our conversation later?”

He patted Mary’s hands, stood, and left the room. Elizabeth stared after him, wondering whether an impostor had replaced her father. Turning to Mary, she suspected that her sister felt the same.