by Suzan Lauder
“Fanny, what is this disagreement he refers to, and what is its basis?”
“The long-standing disagreement was between old Mr. Bennet and old Mr. Collins. I do not recall ever knowing its source, but it could have been regarding the entail.”
“Whatever the reason for the original falling-out, this is indeed a difficult situation. We cannot turn this man away, even if he is so presumptuous to assume a visit without invitation. But he seems odd, and I am concerned and uncertain of what he suggests as amends. He presumes a role as the girls’ protector, implying we will welcome his marrying one of our daughters. I hope he does not pay unwanted attention to any of them. He does not seem to have enough sense or manners to please our girls.”
“I agree he seems ill-mannered in his assumptions. Perhaps he is trying too hard to make amends, and this letter has a bent for excessive flattery that may not be his true nature. I agree we must welcome his visit, but we must be sure he behaves with proper respect and decorum while he is our guest.”
***
“Surely you use explosive chemicals in your mine at Pemberley and have observed the heat that occurs in some situations? We were curious to know from whence the heat came, where it went, and how the chemicals contributed. So Lizzy determined a course of inquiry, and I have instructed Mr. Akuete to undertake the steps she has proposed, attempting various configurations. Akuete, my steward—who came from Africa and ended up in Longbourn via Bermuda—is very meticulous with this type of study. I know no other who is as careful. We have found there is a good chance for a fire or for the person using the explosives to suffer a burn with no consequential useful effect. I have a book here somewhere . . . ”
Mr. Bennet rose to look through his books to find the information on chemical reactions he was discussing with Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth took advantage of the break in conversation to challenge Darcy further.
“Pray, Mr. Darcy, tell me what unconventional knowledge related to heat and chemistry have you to offer?”
“None, Miss Elizabeth, other than my own observations. I have a familiarity with the principles behind blacksmithing and other such metal working and, as Mr. Bennet mentioned, the heat from the explosives in my mine.”
“Lizzy has studied Mr. Leslie’s treatises on heat, Darcy,” Bennet said absently as he leafed through a book. He then turned to Darcy as if he had a revelation. “Tell me, sir, did you study much of Euclid at university?”
“I did, Bennet; it was a favourite topic,” Darcy replied with no little pride.
“Well, perhaps you can help Lizzy with some of her postulations regarding Mr. Leslie’s work. The elliptical theory is slightly beyond my abilities.”
“I am more than willing to peruse the treatise and attempt to provide clarity where I am able.”
Elizabeth was aghast that her father asked Mr. Darcy to help her and that he seemed so smug in agreeing to do so. She was proud to best her father in this knowledge and certain she also bested Mr. Darcy and needed no help whatsoever!
But she remembered she had promised to be civil to Mr. Darcy and stated, though somewhat coolly, “Father, do not importune Mr. Darcy. The elliptical theory is Mr. Leslie’s reporting. I am content with my readings of that particular portion of the pamphlet, and I am also satisfied that my knowledge of Euclid is more than sufficient, so Mr. Darcy is safe to keep his superior knowledge to himself. However, I am interested in Mr. Leslie’s heat theories. I believe they may somehow be tied into why Mr. Watt’s engine improves that of Mr. Newcomen’s patent.”
“Darcy, please excuse my daughter’s propensity to speak too freely with regard to science. Lizzy and I have given each other leave to be forthcoming in our opinions when speaking privately. We each have come to expect the other to challenge ideas and arguments made by others in the pursuit of better understanding of scientific theories. I hope you are not offended.”
“I must admit to being surprised at the nature of our discourse today. It is highly unusual to find these topics perused outside of universities or coffeehouses. I am not offended, but I thank you for your sensibility.” He nodded to Bennet then turned to Elizabeth.
“Miss Elizabeth, my father installed Mr. Watt’s engine at one of Pemberley’s mines, and I have seen it operate. It is a great invention with many potential uses once one’s imagination links the practical applications.”
“But have you ever wondered why Mr. Watt’s engine performs as it does? How do you make it perform better? What makes it best that of Newcomen?” Elizabeth asked in earnest. Mr. Bennet agreed and smiled at his daughter.
“Many have performed experimentation on the various components to make them better. Watt’s engine is just a refinement of Newcomen’s, and even Watt continued to improve his engine based on his simple observations.” Darcy sounded like he was carefully explaining to one with no knowledge on the subject, and that irritated Elizabeth.
“Certainly adjustments can be made to the structure of the engine based on simple observation and the past knowledge of men,” she said. “But what do we know about the internal workings and the underlying philosophy of the engine? Perhaps Mr. Priestley’s oxygen, Mr. Leslie’s radiation, or Mr. Dalton’s theories about pressure will help us gain a better understanding of the mysteries within the engine. What chemical changes or elastic fluids cause the engine to move? Why does Mr. Watt’s engine use less fuel than Mr. Newcomen’s? What is the secret; is it of alchemy or caloric fluid or vacuum or some other notion?”1
Her energy surprised him, and her questions were beyond what Darcy had ever pondered. He did not feel up to a more thoughtful response, so he remarked in a somewhat condescending tone, “Your questions make for interesting discourse but are unlikely to have any practical application. What of philosophy could there possibly be in such a machine? Nay, Miss Elizabeth, leave the philosophy to the scholars.” He paused with a smug expression and then continued, “Or perhaps the parlours of bluestockings.” He knew he was goading her but so enjoyed the flash in her eyes when she rose to meet his challenge.
“Ah, there it is: the contradiction. It is said that women have no business discussing science, literature, or philosophy, and if they do, they are bluestockings and destined to be spinsters. However, when a woman challenges a man and he has no intellectual response, the topic is dismissed as a philosophical exchange among bluestockings. Come, sir, you cannot have both arguments!” She indignantly lifted her chin, and her eyes gave him the satisfaction he sought.
“Are you a bluestocking, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy leaned forward and met her eyes with his then gifted her with a rare, mischievous grin.
Elizabeth was caught off guard by the appearance of his smile. Somewhere in her mind, she realized how much more handsome he appeared when he smiled so broadly; he had dimples she had not seen before, his teeth were white and perfect, his eyes sparkled and crinkled at the corners, and his lips looked so soft . . . She felt heat throughout her body, and all rational thought left her for a moment. Blushing deeply, she dropped her eyes to her lap. Her physical reaction confused her as she had never felt affected this way. After a brief moment, she realized she must respond.
“I do not think it can be so, Mr. Darcy,” she said slowly and quietly without making eye contact. “A lady must have fortune enough to support an independent life if she wishes to spend it pursuing education, literature, and philosophy. I have neither the benefit of my own fortune nor the expectation of one.”
There was a pause in the conversation. Darcy was dismayed at her change in demeanour but was at a loss to understand what had occurred. Bennet sensed the discomfort in the room and quickly spoke to distract from the unease between the two young people.
“Here is the book I was speaking of, Darcy, by Mr. Neumann. It is in German, so please forgive my poor translation, but the experiments are intriguing.”
He proceeded to relate, somewhat haltingly, a short passage. Darcy and Elizabeth did not attend as well as they should.
Eli
zabeth continued feeling flustered; she waited for an appropriate pause in her father’s reading then stood abruptly and said, “Please excuse me, Father, Mr. Darcy, I must . . . I have forgotten . . . Please excuse me.”
She quickly made her curtsey and rushed from the room. Darcy, who had risen to make his bow, looked at her father in confusion. Bennet offered the book he was reading to Darcy then politely excused himself to follow her.
“Lizzy, are you ill?” he called to her as she neared the landing of the staircase. She stopped and turned to her father with a face much calmer than she felt.
“No, Papa, I am well. There is no need for concern on my account. Mr. Darcy has owned he is not accustomed to young ladies speaking plainly about such topics. I thought my absence would help him feel more at ease, and you have suggested I refrain from my impertinent challenges to him.” She smiled at the last.
“Yes, I have, Lizzy, but not to stifle your queries. However, at the moment I must thank you for your sensibilities. Are you to return?”
“No, I thank you, but I will ponder my philosophies on my own. Please convey my apologies to Mr. Darcy.”
“I shall do as you wish, my dear.” He watched as she turned to continue up the stairs before returning to his guest.
“Is Miss Elizabeth well?” Darcy enquired as Mr. Bennet took his seat in the library.
“Thank you for your concern, Darcy. Lizzy is quite well. She apologises to you for her abrupt departure but she desired a bit of solitude for thoughtful reflection.”
“I feel no need for apologies, sir. May we continue our discussion? I would like to understand this treatise better, and you have had more time to consider it.”
The gentlemen spoke for quite some time on subjects of general interest to both, changing topics occasionally, much as would have occurred with Elizabeth and her father.
Elizabeth closed the door to her bedchamber and sat heavily on her bed. What happened? Why did I feel I had no choice but to be away from Mr. Darcy? Was I ashamed of my meagre fortune? Or was I embarrassed that he might think I was suggesting I want a rich husband? Was I hoping he would not think I am a bluestocking? Does he think ill of my impertinence? Why am I so concerned about what he thinks of me?
***
Mr. Bennet was suspicious of Elizabeth’s reaction to Darcy. She was jealously competitive and disapproving of him at first but lately seemed somewhat less so. While Elizabeth was still confident and argumentative as their acquaintance continued, Mr. Bennet sensed a conflict in her feelings. Over a game of chess, he broached the subject with her.
“What do you think of our new neighbours?”
“Mr. Bingley is all easy manners and makes friends effortlessly. He pays Jane a great deal of attention, and she seems to enjoy his company a great deal. He is well-liked in the community, and I would be delighted if he decided to stay at Netherfield.” She completed her latest move feeling quite pleased with her cunning, and continued, “His sisters are another matter. I find their supercilious airs annoying but also amusing. I am glad Mama has taught us better manners.”
When Elizabeth did not elaborate further, Bennet allowed her some time since he was also examining the situation of his pieces on the board. Finally, he made his move and asked, “And the other gentlemen? What are your impressions of them?”
“Mr. Hurst keeps to himself and is somewhat unsocial and taciturn,” she said without looking up. “He does not complain, though, and is very complimentary of the meals he enjoys. Mr. Darcy is also rather quiet. He is clever, but too proud.”
“What do you mean by ‘proud’?”
“He shows a kind of vanity and conceit about himself. He cares not about anyone below his station and has no intention of being agreeable to our Meryton society.”
“He seems to have no qualms about visiting our family. In fact, he is as much a fixture at Longbourn as Mr. Bingley.”
“We are the only family he ever would deign to visit.”
“He is amiable enough to us and also to the Lucas family. He plays chess with all of us. I know you enjoy the intellectual contests you have with him; your arguments are too enthusiastic for me to believe otherwise. You vigorously question him on every point, and I think you cannot deny it enhances your own understanding.” There was a long silence as Elizabeth contemplated her next move. Bennet decided to continue his path to discovery of his second daughter’s odd mix of reactions to Darcy.
“I am under the impression you like him as much as any of our other acquaintances,” Bennet said, further delving into her feelings.
“I cannot say I dislike him. I just wish he were not so smug in his opinions.”
Lydia interrupted them. “Papa, your wish to remain the Longbourn champion is in vain. Your impatience has caused you to move too quickly, and Lizzy is going to win in the next three moves. Come; join us in reading a story. Mary and Kitty have agreed.”
“What is this story? Is it Shakespeare again?” Mr. Bennet asked, suppressing a sigh at his loss of the match.
“It is called Sense and Sensibility, and was written by a lady!” Lydia said with enthusiasm. She knew she had the most pleasant reading voice with excellent timbre, and her animation and inflection brought the story to life. She even joked she should become an actress, and her family frequently obliged her by enjoying her performances.
Bennet was sorry he had not been especially successful in understanding why Elizabeth was so affected by Darcy, but he quickly forgot it as his interest was diverted by the lively entertainment.
1 Although the steam engine had been invented and was in limited use in 1811, the thermodynamic theory behind its operation was not understood; however, it played a critical role in the start of the Industrial Revolution. Also at that time, the knowledge of science that we today take for granted was then in its infancy. What we now refer to as the periodic table of the elements contained only oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen, phosphorus, mercury, zinc and sulphur, as well as including ‘substances’ of light and caloric. Caloric theory is an obsolete heat theory.
Chapter 4:
Darcy attends the Lucas soiree and engages in a war of wits with Miss Elizabeth.
October 1811
Hertfordshire
Mr. Darcy left the Lucas soiree angry with himself. Following their intellectual discussions in her father’s library, he was enthralled by Miss Elizabeth Bennet and obsessed with the need to speak with her at every opportunity and feel her approbation. He had planned to converse with her almost exclusively that evening: to flirt and be flirted with, to enjoy her as a woman who intrigued him, to welcome her attention.
His intentions were bolder than his actions. He spent the first part of the evening watching Elizabeth, considering how to approach her and initiate a drawing room conversation. Shortly after divesting himself of his outerwear, he noticed her at the doorstep attending to Miss Mary, whose bonnet ribbons had become entangled, but he was already being announced at the drawing room and required by politeness to enter; thus he had to wait until an appropriate time to greet her. Twice, he tried to approach her when she appeared to be available, but both times he was interrupted by others, and then he was thwarted when he asked her to dance. He would have to content himself with the next occasion where he would see her to try to understand this fascination.
Mr. Darcy was an enigma to Elizabeth. When he visited Longbourn, he willingly entered into uplifting discussions about science and philosophy, and he was a worthy adversary when arguing almost any point, even if he had a fair bit of pride regarding his depth of knowledge. She begrudgingly conceded his greater information; he had a university education, and he had travelled in the world. No home education could compete with that. Still, she liked that he was not off-put by her ability to converse intelligently on topics usually forbidden to a woman, and she found herself drawn to him in a way that was frightening to her. But she was unsure of his regard and felt in danger of wanting his attention too much.
She noticed him watching h
er from across the room. She was not sure whether it was in disapprobation and hoped for the compliment of a positive regard, but she could not be sure; his expression was unreadable as was usual in public situations. When he approached her group and she made a banal statement, he responded in a way that could have been construed as flirtatious but also might be interpreted as his comparing her with every other simpering woman who lived for trivial entertainment. She did not want to be seen as sweet and fawning, and viewed the use of feminine wiles as frightfully resembling the cloying Caroline Bingley, whose type of flirtatiousness did not seem to attract him. Thank goodness Charlotte opened the instrument, for she was feeling all the inelegance of her inability to come up with a clever rejoinder.
There was no question she was confused at his request to dance when plied by Sir William, and she felt embarrassed at having no idea whether he really wanted to dance. She was mortified that he no doubt felt forced to ask, similar to when Mr. Bingley tried to coerce him into dancing with her at the Meryton assembly. Her feelings were hurt over both situations. Privately, she admitted that she yearned for such a handsome and important man to want her company of his own accord, but those feelings were in conflict with her insistence upon being cross with him for his rude comments and for usurping her position as the cleverest in the Longbourn drawing room. These thoughts left her sleepless for yet another night while she wondered about her obsession with his handsome countenance, his friendly if reserved manner, and her own burgeoning appreciation for his fine eyes.
***
Not many days later, while the Bennet family was enjoying their breakfast, a note addressed to Miss Jane Bennet was brought in by a footman. Jane shared the contents with her family: Miss Bingley was inviting Jane to Netherfield for dinner to help reduce the boredom she and Mrs. Hurst might feel whilst the men of their party dined with the officers.
“It is a compliment to you to be considered a favourite from such a short acquaintance. Of course, you must agree to visit,” said Mrs. Bennet with no little enthusiasm. “Thomas, we must allow her to take the carriage, for it looks like it might rain.”
