She turned and looked steadily at him. “I depend upon it,” she replied.
“As I depend on you, my sweetest, loveliest Elizabeth.”
Chapter 8
“Oh, Mr. Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar! You have no idea what has happened,” cried Mrs. Bennet. “You must come and make Mr. Darcy marry Lizzy!
“Mr. Darcy! Madam, I doubt I could make Mr. Darcy give me the time of day, if he were not so inclined, so I would hesitate to believe that I could make him marry anyone, least of all Lizzy, for whom you have always told me he has had the greatest indifference!”
“Nonsense, how can you talk so! You take delight in vexing me! They are just now in the garden together, and, oh, Mr. Bennet, what shall we ever do?”
“You may tell him from me, madam, that he has my full permission to be in the garden whenever he chooses, and that should put an end to the matter!”
Unable to contain herself, Mrs. Bennet cried in vexation. “You have no compassion for my poor nerves! And what shall become of poor Lizzy?”
The subjects of the conversation chose this moment to make their appearance, having overheard the previous remarks. Darcy, with his most correct social manner covering what to Elizabeth was obviously repressed laughter, bowed most correctly to his hostess. “Mrs. Bennet, a pleasure to see you again. And do I recollect that this is your sister? It has been far too long, madam.” Without allowing time for anyone else to speak, he turned to Mr. Bennet. “Mr. Bennet, would it be possible for me to speak with you privately regarding a matter of some importance?”
Mr. Bennet looked him up and down. “Well, Mr. Darcy, I cannot imagine what you would have to say to me that would be of any import, but you are welcome to join me in the library, where it is certainly much quieter. I understand you have already taken a tour of the gardens.”
Darcy cast Elizabeth a look of amused apprehension as he disappeared with her father. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her mother.
“Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet wailed. “How could you do this to us! Have you no regard for my nerves? You will disgrace us all!”
Lizzy pressed her lips together to hide a smile. “I am sorry to hear that. I certainly hope that any disgrace of mine will not dissuade Mr. Darcy, since we have only just become engaged. He is asking my father for my hand as we speak.”
The effect of this communication was quite extraordinary, for on hearing it, Mrs. Bennet found herself quite unable to utter a syllable. She managed to recover herself under the excited ministrations of Mrs. Philips, and expressed herself in such a tumult of joy as to make Elizabeth exceedingly grateful for Darcy’s absence. She could not give her consent, or speak her approbation in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings.
“Good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it really true? Oh, my dear Lizzy! Pray apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Everything that is charming! Three daughters married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me, I shall go distracted.”
“Well, Mr. Darcy, what can I do for you today?” asked Mr. Bennet.
“Sir, I would like to ask for the honor of your daughter’s hand in marriage,” Darcy said formally.
“Ah, yes, Lizzy. A bit overdue in approaching me, aren’t you?”
“Your daughter can be difficult to convince, sir.”
“By you? Not that I would have noticed, Mr. Darcy. But no matter—the question is why are you asking my consent?”
Darcy paused, puzzled. He had thought his request perfectly clear. “I would like your consent to marry your daughter.”
“Yes, yes, you want to marry Lizzy; that shows fine taste on your part, if a certain degree of disregard for your own peace of mind. But I fail to see where I come into this.”
“Sir, I do not have the honor of following your meaning.”
“Well, then, Lizzy has told me she plans to marry you with or without my consent, so it seems that there is no need to ask it, is there?”
“Your daughter says a good many things, Mr. Bennet, but she does not speak for me; I would like to have your consent.”
“You would like that, would you? And will it stop you if I fail to give my consent?” Mr. Bennet asked affably.
Darcy steepled his fingers and was silent for a minute. “No, sir, it will not.”
“Then it certainly seems to be a waste of your time and energy to be debating the issue with a difficult old man!”
Darcy was beginning to understand the source of Elizabeth’s playful sense of humor. “Possibly, sir, but I consider it good practice for dealing with your daughter.”
“Point taken, young man. So, why should I give you permission to marry Lizzy? I believe we can skip over the discussion of your material prospects, and I am willing to take your tender regard for her as a given.” Mr. Bennet sat back, clearly relishing the discussion.
“Among other things, it would improve your family harmony; I speak from experience when I say that Miss Elizabeth can be quite stubborn when she sets her mind to it, and she seems to be quite set on marrying me.”
Mr. Bennet waved this away. “I am quite accustomed to dealing with familial disharmony.”
“Perhaps then you should speak to your wife. She seems to feel that I have compromised your daughter, and as such, I obviously should marry her.”
“Oh, ho, so that is how the land lies, is it? Is there something you ought to be telling me about?”
Darcy leaned forward, and said with great deliberation, “Only this, sir, that I am prepared to sit here and argue this with you all day and all night if need be, until you give your consent simply to be rid of me.”
The two stared at each other. Finally Mr. Bennet chuckled. “Very well, young man. I see you have enough mettle to handle my Lizzy. You have my consent.”
“I thank you, sir, and I believe you will have no cause to regret your decision.”
“Well, we shall see, I would imagine.”
Darcy found himself not quite ready to quit the battlefield without having fired a shot of his own. “Sir, I do have one question.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“I understand from my friend Bingley that he found asking your permission to marry Miss Bennet a simple and straightforward procedure. This seems rather different from my experience. Perhaps you might explain this to me.”
“You are not reticent, sir! Very well, if you wish to know, when Jane brings home a puppy dog, I pat its head. When Lizzy brings me a full-grown wolf, I handle it differently.”
Darcy inclined his head. “I see we understand one other, sir.”
“Yes, yes, and I am sure you would rather be spending your time with Lizzy than with me, so be off with you!”
“Sir.” Darcy stood and gave him a very correct bow before leaving.
He found Elizabeth awaiting him anxiously in the drawing room. “Well?” she asked.
Darcy sank gratefully into a chair. “There are thousands of fathers in England who would be delighted to have me ask for their daughter’s hand.”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “He was difficult, then? Did he give his consent?”
“Yes, he was difficult, and yes, he consented, though only after I had threatened him with family discord, loss of reputation, and holding him hostage. Apart from that, it went quite well.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You should probably feel complimented; he is truly only difficult when he has a positive view of a matter.”
“Did you really tell him you would marry me with or without his consent?”
Elizabeth blushed. “Does that shock you, sir?”