| The Other Bingley, Part III |
| Darcy started. "Mr. Wickham? What do you mean?" Elinor took his arm and guided him to a room where they could speak privately. "As I said, I had a very enlightening chat with Miss Elizabeth this evening, which was unfortunately interrupted by the return of the gentlemen before I could get any information of substance. But she did imply to me that she considers Mr. Wickham a good friend, and that you are most decidedly not." Darcy's eyes widened with fury and he clenched his jaw and fists. "And how did you deduce this, Mrs. Westling?" he asked angrily, as if blaming her for the facts. "Mr. Darcy, this is not my interpretation of the conversation. Miss Bennet said quite explicitly that she was happy to call Mr. Wickham her friend, and that anyone who was friends with one could not be friends with the other. I'm sorry to say it, but your lady seems to feel a most strong dislike for you." "She is NOT� MY� LADY!" he thundered. Elinor crossed her arms and looked at him threateningly. "I will thank you not to raise your voice to me Mr. Darcy, and I will also thank you not to imagine me a complete fool. You did not remove your eyes from her for more than a few moments today, and even those times it seemed to take great strength to tear them away at all. You barely spoke a word to her, but were most attentive of any word she had to say to anyone else. She may not be your lady in reality Mr. Darcy, but I am quite sure that she has been the mistress of your heart for some time now." Darcy walked away from her and stood staring out the window. Elinor knew that she had him trapped then. "Mrs. Westling," he began again in a gentler tone, "you never cease to amaze me. From whence comes this uncanny ability to read my mind?" Elinor smiled and touched his arm. "I have no such talent. I am merely an experienced observer of humanity, and you reveal a great deal more through your eyes than most people. Knowing you as well as I do, it is difficult to misinterpret what you are feeling." He sighed deeply and turned to the window again. "I do hope that I am one day fortunate enough to find someone who understands me as well as you do Mrs. Westling. Or perhaps I will just make it easier on myself and challenge your husband to a duel," he teased. Elinor laughed and patted Darcy's hand maternally. "I am afraid Robert would defeat you quite soundly my dear sir� and if he did not, I would!" Darcy had to chuckle at this, and his good humor was at least temporarily restored. "Good. Now that you are half human again, let us discuss the problem you are facing. It is quite obvious that Miss Elizabeth is your ideal match; she is like me in temperament, which is just what you need, but she has the added benefits of not seeing you as a younger brother and of being unmarried." "Younger brother? I am no more than a month or two your junior!" he protested. "Yes, but you are the best friend of my baby brother, and therefore in the same category. I will thank you not to interrupt me again young man." Darcy tried to stifle a grin and bowed his head contritely. "Yes ma'am." "Excellent. It is also obvious to me that Miss Elizabeth hates you quite passionately, which is a very good sign." His jaw dropped in shock, obviously not understanding how this could possibly be a good sign. He began to speak, but was stopped by Elinor's hand. "Mr. Darcy, no interruptions! Believe me, some of the most passionate marriages I have seen began with one or both parties hating the other most intensely. The Bard himself illustrates this for us with Beatrice and Benedick. Miss Elizabeth's reaction to you is strong, but has been tainted to be negative for some reason. If it were changed to be positive, I believe her reaction would be equally strong, but in quite the opposite direction. Just be thankful that she is not indifferent towards you." He still looked doubtful, but did not question Elinor's wisdom. "Although I do not doubt George Wickham's ability to slander you famously, I cannot accept that a sensible young woman like Elizabeth would believe him simply because of his charms. Does she have any other reason to dislike you?" Darcy looked down and began to fidget nervously with his signet ring. This was not going to be pretty. "I cannot say for sure," he mumbled. Elinor gave him a withering stare and shook her head. "Somehow I doubt that. Does she know of your interference with Charles' courtship of Miss Bennet?" Darcy's head shot up. "No, no, she knows nothing of that. At least, I do not think she does." "But she may have suspicions?" "Perhaps." The thought had never occurred to him before. "I see. Is there anything else?" He was silent. "I can see that there is, but you do not wish to tell me. Let us see if I can guess� at the time you seemed to be quite severely ruled by Caroline, so I can only suppose that you were just as charming to your neighbors as she is to all those outside her sphere. Am I right?" Darcy avoided her eyes. "I may have been somewhat reserved in company, but that is not unusual." She raised her eyebrows. "I may perhaps have been� a bit rude at times." Elinor crossed her arms and slowly tapped her foot. Darcy looked defeated. "There is a slight chance that on the night I first saw Miss Elizabeth, I said that she was tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt me, and that she heard me say so." He cringed at the onslaught he knew would be forthcoming. "Fitzwilliam Darcy! I am appalled! How could you be so unfeeling? I have always known you to be proud, but to say such a thing about a young lady you did not even know! And within hearing distance of her! It is no wonder that she was so easily able to give credit to Wickham's assertions, whatever they were. You were no doubt haughty and acted superior to company, and on top of this, insulted her practically to her face! If I were your mother, I would take you over my knee this instant!" Throughout her speech, Darcy's anger rose, but at this last sentence, could not help laughing. "Mrs. Westling, you do have a way of making a man feel like a mere boy caught doing something naughty. I have suffered from so many of your scoldings in the last month that I feel as if I were back in school!" "I am sorry Mr. Darcy, but you have deserved every one. You have obviously let the admiration of the ton go to your head. In doing so, you have lost the goodwill of the one lady whose admiration means anything at all to you; indeed, if I did not know your true nature and have such brotherly affection for you, I fear you would have lost mine as well. I dare say that you are fortunate to hear these criticisms from me, for I have a feeling that Miss Elizabeth would not be so kind." Calming down, Elinor continued, "I shall try to discover what manner of lies Wickham is spreading about you, but then it shall be up to you to decide what you want and how to go about it. I cannot change anyone's heart for you." She patted his hand again and took her leave. "I must decide what I want?" he shook his head and laughed bitterly. "I don't think that is under my control any longer." * * * * * * The next afternoon, Lydia and Kitty returned to Longbourn dragging Wickham and Denny behind them. Mrs. Bennet insisted that they stay for tea, and Wickham immediately sought out Elizabeth, despite his recent betrothal to Mary King. She welcomed him with a smile, but perhaps a bit more reserve than usual. "Miss Elizabeth, it is a pleasure as always." He bowed over her hand. "I understand that not only has Mr. Bingley returned, but that he and your sister are now engaged to be married. This is excellent news." "Indeed it is. They renewed their acquaintance in town, and Mr. Bingley decided to return to Hertfordshire for a few months. Fortunately he does not bring Miss Bingley or the Hursts." "And� has Mr. Darcy returned with Mr. Bingley?" he asked hesitantly. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm afraid he has, and Mr. Bingley has also brought his eldest sister, Mrs. Westling, and her husband and family." Wickham paled slightly at the mention of her name; he recovered quickly, but it did not escape Elizabeth's notice. She wondered what it could mean. "Are you at all acquainted with the Westlings?" "Ah� I believe I have met Mrs. Westling once, yes. A very charming lady." He smiled weakly. "Indeed. How is it that you know Mrs. Westling but not Mr. Bingley?" Elizabeth asked innocently. Wickham's cleared his throat and looked as if he had been trying to remember. "I cannot recall exactly. Perhaps it was at a time when Darcy and I were not on such unfriendly terms," he posited. "Wickham! Wickham, come here!" Lydia called from across the room, giggling with Kitty and Denny. He bowed and politely took his leave of Elizabeth, but she could not help feeling that he seemed relieved to be escaping her. Her mind was now full of questions. * * * * * * The day after the dinner at Netherfield, Elinor decided to call on Jane and Elizabeth, not only in the hopes of speaking to the latter once more, but also to see for herself this "horrid" family that so revolted Darcy. As she neared the door, it flew open, spewing forth two hysterically giggling girls carrying soldier hats, running away from the very soldiers from whom they had been purloined. He did not notice her, but Elinor certainly saw that one of those soldiers was Mr. Wickham. She could only assume that the young women were two more Bennet girls, and she began to understand what Darcy meant. Having avoided being trampled, Elinor rang the bell and was attended by Hill, who announced her in the drawing room to Jane and Elizabeth. Jane seemed pleased to see her, but Elizabeth's reaction would have been best described by confusion. "Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, how do you do? I hope I am not calling at an inopportune time, but I dearly wished to have the company of ladies today. Netherfield has far too many gentlemen doing those things that gentlemen do, leaving me to be lonely all day." Elizabeth was dearly wishing for an opportunity to ask Elinor about Wickham, and Elinor fully intended to make such an opportunity. When Jane offered to ring for tea, she demurred. "In truth, I was hoping to convince one of you to join me on a walk; I am in great need of exercise, but I am sure that I would get quite lost." Elizabeth quickly offered to accompany her, while Jane opted to stay behind lest their mother needed her. Once they were outside, Elinor began thinking about how to phrase her inquiries without seeming impertinent, but Elizabeth beat her to the punch. "Mrs. Westling, I apologize for my insolence, but my curiosity has always been my worst feature, and I hope you will excuse it. Mr. Wickham called today, and he reacted strangely to the mention of your name. How is it that he is acquainted with you, but not with Mr. Bingley?" Elinor had to smile to herself; Elizabeth reminded her of herself at that age, with a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody. "I'm happy that you broached this topic, Miss Bennet, for it is exactly what I wished to speak to you about. I was also hoping to get some information from you, but I will gladly share what I know first if you will pay me the same kindness." Elizabeth nodded and Elinor continued. "I must begin by telling you that I cannot give you all the particulars of the relationship between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham, not because I do not know them, for I do, but because it is not my place to share with you what Mr. Darcy imparted to me in strict confidence. Not even my brother knows all that has occurred. To answer your question, I met Mr. Wickham when I was paying Miss Darcy a visit in London late this past summer. He arrived unexpectedly, with the knowledge that Mr. Darcy was out, in the hopes of speaking with Miss Darcy alone. She was very distressed by his presence, and rightly so based on what she and Mr. Darcy later revealed to me. The poor girl could not even look at him, much less speak to him, so I firmly told him to leave at once. He quite rudely told me that this was none of his concern, that he had private business with Miss Darcy, and that I should be the one to leave. Knowing me even for the brief time that you have, Miss Bennet, I am sure you can imagine how I reacted. I informed Mr. Wickham that I had no intention of leaving him alone with a young lady, and that any business he had with her could be discussed in my presence. He scowled and sneered and made all manner of protest, but I stood firm. Miss Darcy at last recovered her voice a bit, and softly begged Mr. Wickham to leave her in peace. He stepped closer to her and said something along the lines of, 'It was not so long ago that you wished me always near you, my dear.' Poor Georgiana burst into tears and ran from the room at this, whilst I was bursting with fury. It is fortunate for Mr. Wickham that I was with child, or he may have found himself having his eyes thoroughly scratched out. I immediately rang the bell before Mr. Wickham could act in any way, and had the butler remove Mr. Wickham from the premises. I comforted Georgiana as best I could, and when her brother arrived, I acquainted him with the events of the afternoon. He and Georgiana enlightened me to the more� unsavoury aspects of Mr. Wickham's character, particularly as regarded his behavior towards Georgiana. As I said before, it is not my place to divulge those details to you, but I assure you, Miss Bennet, that they are grievous indeed." Elizabeth attempted to digest this information quickly, but found herself unequal to the task. Why would Mr. Wickham attempt to have access to Miss Darcy without a chaperone? What could a comment like "It was not so long ago that you wished me always near you, my dear" possibly mean? She could not reconcile her prejudices with this new knowledge. "Now, Miss Bennet, if you would indulge me� what sort of tales did Mr. Wickham enthrall you with?" Elizabeth related the story of how Mr. Darcy denied Wickham the living he had been promised, leaving him to make his own way in the world. Elinor listened to the details with great attention. "What a presentation� just enough facts to make the whole sound entirely plausible to someone who does not know Mr. Darcy as he is known to his friends and in Derbyshire. Would you humor me a while longer, Miss Bennet, and tell me what you thought of Mr. Darcy before you heard Mr. Wickham's tales of his dealings with him?" Elizabeth blushed, but would not be intimidated into softening her opinion for Mr. Darcy's friend. "I have disliked Mr. Darcy from the day I met him. He is disagreeable, proud, arrogant, conceited, and shows a selfish disdain for the feelings of others. Mr. Wickham's assertions only gave further credit to my opinion of Mr. Darcy, and even now I find it difficult to reconcile your information with what I have known of both men." Elinor could not help laughing at this assessment; she had been correct in thinking that Elizabeth's criticisms would be far harsher than her own. "I cannot say I am surprised, from what Mr. Darcy told me of his last trip to Hertfordshire. I know he can be absolutely impossible sometimes, and his arrogance does get out of hand when he spends too much time with Caroline, but you really have no idea of his generous nature. Do I seem to be the type of woman who would tolerate such behavior any more than you would?" Lizzy grinned and shook her head. "I like you Miss Bennet. I wish there were more young ladies like you and me; the world would be far more interesting. Alas, it would also be underpopulated, because rare is the man who can appreciate that sort of woman. Fortunately," she continued with a decidedly dreamy look in her eye, "I have found one of those rarities, and keep him as near to me as I can at all times� as you can tell by our three sons," she winked. Elizabeth would have liked to continue their discussion about Wickham and Darcy, but Elinor made it clear by changing the subject that no more information would be forthcoming in this interview. She did not hold out much hope in Mr. Darcy laying open his private affairs, but perhaps a talk with Elinor another day would yield better results. * * * * * * Elinor returned to Netherfield to find Darcy waiting upon her in the parlour. He tried to pretend that he was not eager to hear what news she brought from Longbourn, but as usual, failed miserably. Elinor acquainted him with every detail of her talk with Elizabeth, including the lady's unfavourable opinion of him before Wickham arrived. If he had not been prepared to hear something at least slightly negative, he would have been shocked indeed. As it was, he threw himself into a chair and rubbed his temples in frustration. "And what do you propose I do, Mrs. Westling?" Darcy asked when she had finished. "Tell her the entire history of my connection with George Wickham? Would you have me expose Georgiana in such a manner?" "Of course," she replied matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I am not asking you to take your story to the papers Mr. Darcy. I am simply urging you to tell Miss Bennet why she should not trust Mr. Wickham. I am quite certain that you can trust her to be discreet." Darcy nodded pensively. "How shall I do that? Wickham's sordid history is not exactly dinner table conversation." "I don't know� invite her for a walk, or write her a letter. She is curious enough at this point to readily accept any form of information you will give her." He thought about it for several long moments and arrived at some sort of resolution. "Thank you Mrs. Westling, you have been very helpful. I will resolve this as best I can, if only for El� Miss Bennet's protection. Good afternoon madam." He bowed and took his leave. "Yes Mr. Darcy, only for Miss Bennet's protection indeed�" Elinor shook her head in amusement. "May I ask what is so amusing, my love?" came a deep voice from behind her. The voice was soon joined by a pair of strong arms that wrapped around her waist from behind. "Robert!" she smiled and turned to kiss her husband. "Have I mentioned how happy I am to be married?" "Mmm," came his muffled reply from the curve of her neck. "Poor Mr. Darcy� I would not return to the uncertainty of courtship for a kingdom!" By this time Mr. Westling was barely listening anymore, having become completely enthralled by the neckline of his wife's dress. "As I recall, Elinor, you never had any uncertainty. I believe I declared my intention to marry you during our first dance." Elinor laughed. "Yes dear, but I didn't realize you were serious until much later." "Such as the following day, when I called on you at your father's and asked his permission to court you?" His kisses were by now becoming quite distracting, and Elinor was suddenly having trouble thinking clearly. "I suppose that should have told me something, yes." Robert now decided that any more conversation was superfluous, and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. It was in this position that Darcy found them when he returned to ask for further advice from Elinor. Embarrassed, he quietly retreated without interrupting. He could not help but smile, and yet envy the Westlings their good fortune; after all these years and three children, their passion for each other was unabated. He had despaired of ever feeling that way about any woman until he had met Elizabeth Bennet. Now, for the first time, Darcy realized how truly special it was to find that sort of feeling. With new resolve, he returned to the library to begin the most important letter of his life; the document that would begin his courtship of Elizabeth Bennet. * * * * * * A few mornings later, Elizabeth found the path of her walk leading her in the direction of Netherfield. She had not originally intended to go that way, vowing to herself that she would be patient and wait until Elinor sought her out to continue their conversation. Now it seemed that her curiosity was telling her that it was tired of waiting, and would force her to seek Elinor out herself. She wasn't quite sure what she would say when she arrived, but she reasoned that she had nearly 3 miles to figure that out. Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy was setting out on his third morning walk of the week; he had vainly tried to meet with Elizabeth each day, knowing her fondness for the outdoors. He was beginning to get discouraged, thinking that perhaps the chill February weather had been keeping her within. He was thus pleasantly surprised when he found her on the lane that led to Netherfield. Her hair was most attractively disheveled by the wind, and her cheeks were rosy from the exercise and cold. Darcy was extraordinarily thankful for the cover his great coat provided. "Miss Bennet! This is fortunate!" "Mr. Darcy! How do you do, sir?" "I am very well, and yourself? I hope your family is in good health." "Thank you, they are very well." "I am glad to hear it. Em� were you on your way to Netherfield?" "I think so. That is, I was thinking of calling on Mrs. Westling." "I am afraid that Mrs. Westling has caught a bit of a cold and has kept to her room the last day or two." "Oh dear. I hope she is alright." "I daresay she will be fine. Would you like me to convey a message to her?" "No, thank you, just tell her I said hello and send my wishes for a quick recovery." "I shall." They stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Darcy built his courage and cleared his throat. "Miss Bennet, I am happy to meet with you at last. I have been out walking for the past few days in the hope of meeting you. Mrs. Westling told me about her talk with you, and I felt that you should know the entire truth about my history with Mr. Wickham. Will you do me the honor of reading this letter?" He handed her said letter and bowed. "I shall leave you now. Please do not hesitate to speak to me if you require more information. Good day." Before Elizabeth could reply, he had bowed again and walked back towards the house. She stared after him, still surprised by what had passed. Suddenly she remembered the cold, and knowing that she could not stay outside much longer, put the letter in her pocket and returned home as quickly as she could. As soon as she had attained the privacy of her room, she took the letter back out and hastily opened it. With the strongest curiosity, Elizabeth opened the letter, and, to her still increasing wonder, perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter paper, written quite through, in a very close hand; the envelope itself was likewise full. Hopeful that its contents would include that very information which she desperately wanted, she began reading. Miss Bennet, Madam, please forgive the impropriety of this letter, but I knew not a better way with which to convey this information to you. Mrs. Westling told me of her talk with you, and my character required that this letter be written and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice. I realize that I have been accused of a very serious offence, namely that I had, in defiance of various claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity, and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham. Wilfully and wantonly to have thrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged favourite of my father, a young man who had scarcely any other dependence than on our patronage, and who had been brought up to expect its exertion - this, if true, would indeed be grievous. It is, however, entirely without foundation, and I can only refute it by laying before you the whole of his connection with my family. Of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity. Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates; and whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his god-son, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge. My father was not only fond of this young man's society, whose manners were always engaging; he had also the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities -- the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have. My excellent father died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended it to me to promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might allow, and, if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of one thousand pounds. His own father did not long survive mine, and within half a year from these events Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment by which he could not be benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would be a very insufficient support therein. I rather wished than believed him to be sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The business was therefore soon settled. He resigned all claim to assistance in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it, and accepted in return three thousand pounds. All connection between us seemed now dissolved. Being now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; but on the decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He had found the law a most unprofitable study, and was now absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present him to the living in question -- of which he trusted there could be little doubt, as he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for, and I could not have forgotten my revered father's intentions. You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for resisting every repetition of it. His resentment was in proportion to the distress of his circumstances -- and he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others, as in his reproaches to myself. After this period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropt. How he lived I know not. But last summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice. I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of my mother's nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself. About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an establishment formed for her in London; and last summer she went with the lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid he so far recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add that I owed the knowledge of it to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement; and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what I felt and how I acted. Regard for my sister's credit and feelings prevented any public exposure, but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge. I had hoped that this would be the end of it, but Mr. Wickham made still one further endeavor to hurt both my sister and myself. About a month after we had returned to London from the seaside, Mrs. Westling called on us, and I took advantage of her presence to leave Georgiana for a short time whilst I met with my solicitor on a matter of important business. Mr. Wickham must have been watching for my absence, for I had not been gone a few minutes when he insinuated himself into my home with the purpose of closeting himself with Georgiana and convincing her to run away with him that very day. Fortunately, Mrs. Westling had enough instinct not to leave Georgiana with him, and Georgiana herself, now free from her illusions of his love, asked him to leave her in peace. He continued to antagonize her until Mrs. Westling forced him to leave. Upon my return, she disclosed all to me, and in turn, Georgiana and I acquainted her with all the details I have now revealed to you. Mr. Wickham's chief object was unquestionably my sister's fortune, which is thirty thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed. This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. His success in deceiving you is not, perhaps, to be wondered at; ignorant as you previously were of every thing concerning either, detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in your inclination. I also realize that my behavior when I was last in Hertfordshire, particularly when compared with Mr. Wickham's, could not have led you to form a better idea of my character in any case. For that I apologize, and can only explain it by saying that I have always been of a reserved and private nature, and find it difficult to recommend myself to strangers. This is no excuse for my arrogance, but I hope it will help you to understand my character a bit better. There is one other matter about which I must confess. I am operating on the assumption that you are ignorant of what I am about to relate; still, I feel that to entirely earn your trust, I must reveal this information and thus put behind me another aspect of my life of which I am most ashamed. I had not been long in Hertfordshire, before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley preferred your eldest sister to any other young woman in the country. But it was not till the evening of the dance at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him in love before. At that ball, while I had the honour of dancing with you, I was first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas's accidental information, that Bingley's attentions to your sister had given rise to a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it as a certain event, of which the time alone could be undecided. From that moment I observed my friend's behaviour attentively; and I could then perceive that his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him. Your sister I also watched. Her look and manners were open, cheerful, and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar regard, and I remained convinced from the evening's scrutiny, that though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not invite them by any participation of sentiment. The serenity of your sister's countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart was not likely to be easily touched. I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I believed it on impartial conviction. I was desirous of preserving my friend from what I esteemed a loveless and most unhappy connection based not only on the relative situation of your family but also on the want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly, betrayed by your mother, by your three younger sisters, and occasionally even by your father. Pardon me. It pains me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at this representation of them, let it give you consolation to consider that to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the like censure is praise no less generally bestowed on you and your eldest sister, than it is honourable to the sense and disposition of both. Mr. Bingley left Netherfield for London the following day with the design of soon returning. The part which I acted is now to be explained. His sisters' uneasiness had been equally excited with my own; our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered; and, alike sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved on joining him directly in London. There I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my friend, the certain evils of such a choice. But, however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose that it would ultimately have prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which I hesitated not in giving, of your sister's indifference. He had before believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal, regard. But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my judgment than on his own. To convince him, therefore, that he had deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuade him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I assure you that I have long been ashamed for having done thus much. And yet, there is another part of my conduct in the whole affair, on which I reflect with even less satisfaction; it is that I condescended to adopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from him your sister's being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bingley, but her brother did not know it until Miss Bennet came to call at their townhouse. I must confess that it was once again Mrs. Westling who made a happy outcome possible. Had she not also been there and determined not to allow Miss Bingley to deceive your sister, Bingley might be in London still, never knowing that she came to call. It was also Mrs. Westling who pointed out to me the error of my ways, and made me realize that my behavior has been reprehensible. I have always prided myself on being a man of honor and charity, but through her eyes I saw that I had become quite the opposite. Having earned her forgiveness and that of Mr. Bingley for my part in his separation from your sister, I now entreat yours. I know that my behavior thus far has not provided you with any reason to bestow such generosity upon me, so I must hope that your naturally compassionate heart will forget my mistakes and allow a fresh beginning to our acquaintance. Please do not hesitate to ask me any question you need answered. I am your servant. Fitzwilliam Darcy Next section... |