A Case of Some Delicacy

by K C Kahler

  In her agitation, Elizabeth’s attention would not be swayed from her father, and she had much more to say. “Yet you would allow Jane to endure a loveless marriage to an intolerable man, merely because she is too good, too dutiful to complain? How could you abide such a fate for any of your children, let alone your most worthy? Jane is all goodness and serenity, but she feels just as deeply as any of us who are more open with our emotions. Like me, Jane wishes to marry for love and respect, two emotions Mr Collins is unlikely to engender in any sensible woman!”

  Mr Bennet closed his book. “Lizzy, if such a proposal comes to pass and Jane refuses, I shall of course support her.”

  Although she was somewhat placated by this statement, Elizabeth pressed on. “The entail complicates matters. And Mama’s shameful gossiping has all but publicly announced an engagement. What if Jane feels forced to accept out of her sense of familial duty?”

  “If she does accept, then she will be making a great sacrifice for her family. The decision is hers.”

  “No, the decision is ultimately yours. You must refuse your consent.”

  Mr Bennet put his book on the desk and sat up straight in his chair. His tone betrayed his vexation. “If I do as you suggest, I shall never hear the end of it from your mother.”

  This was just what Elizabeth dreaded hearing. It brought to the forefront of her mind long-buried thoughts about her father’s inadequacies towards his family, and the fact that these inadequacies might now be paid for with Jane’s future happiness.

  “Oh, what burdens you face! What great misfortunes! Why endure a few weeks of your wife’s excited fretting when you can stand by and let your child enter into an unhappy union with an insensible man? Indeed, why not simply sit back and observe, with detached amusement, the inappropriate behaviour of your wife and daughters rather than trouble yourself to correct it?”

  Mr Bennet interrupted sternly, “Elizabeth, you forget yourself.”

  “No, sir, you forget yourself and your responsibility.” She was not quite yelling, but her voice commanded undivided attention. “You have known about the entail your entire life. Surely the lack of a male heir has been apparent for at least ten years. Did you then begin to exercise stricter household economy to save and invest in your daughters’ security? No! Did you provide them with a proper education and the discipline to pursue their talents? No! Your indolence and aversion to confrontation allowed them to become, as you often say, the silliest girls in England. And all the while, Mama carries on unchecked, her behaviour often bordering on impropriety. Can you not see that your continued failure to act has injured us all?”

  “That is quite enough!” Mr Bennet boomed as he stood. “I shall not be lectured by my daughter in my own library. I fully comprehend your feelings.”

  “I do not think you do.” Elizabeth could not regret her words; they were the truth. But she softened her demeanour and tried to explain. “You never meant your choices to lead to this. But I shall not allow Jane to forfeit her happiness because of the follies of our family. The final decision lies with you, Father. If you fail Jane when she most needs you”—her voice broke as she gave her ultimatum—“I shall never forgive you. You must determine whether you would rather face your wife’s temporary displeasure or mine, which I assure you will last as long as Jane’s unhappy marriage.”

  Mr Bennet stood at his desk, unmoving.

  “In an attempt to spare you this decision, and Jane as well, I shall endeavour to prevent the dreaded proposal from ever happening.”

  Mr Bennet scoffed. “Just how will you do that?”

  “By shielding Jane from Mr Collins. I shall constantly insert myself into their company. I shall do whatever is in my power to protect her and to heal this rift between us.” Searching his face for some sign of acknowledgement and finding none, Elizabeth concluded softly, “Please wish me luck, Papa.”

  Mr Bennet’s shoulders slumped at her last words, but he made no other movement. As she turned to leave, Elizabeth caught sight of something at the window—the dark eyes of Mr Darcy, blinking at her in bewilderment. Then he was gone.

  Stifling her gasp, Elizabeth rushed from the room, resolved to confront the interloper. She knew Mr Darcy had disdained her before, but after witnessing such insolence and hearing all of the family failings, she could only imagine what his opinion must be now. She hardly cared—what rudeness! To eavesdrop, to spy! She must find out how much he had heard and secure his word that he would reveal nothing of it to his friends.

  As Darcy hurried to make his escape, he berated himself for being so lax in his concealment. The angry Elizabeth he had witnessed was intoxicating enough, but the hurt, sad Elizabeth at the end of the confrontation had wreaked havoc within him. He had wanted to run inside to comfort her, to tell her how valiant she was in defence of her sister, how selfless she was to take such a burden on herself, yet he was unable to move—and then suddenly she looked straight at him! Blast!

  And now he must return to Mrs Bennet without succeeding in his promised task. He sped along the path, his mind racing to come up with an excuse. Although he would not stoop to the indecorous act of running, Darcy thought he had the advantage of uncommonly long legs in combination with a head start. He had not bargained, however, on his sprightly pursuer breaking into a rather unladylike run.

  “Mr Darcy! A moment, please!” she called out. Her voice was surprisingly close and clearly angered.

  He halted his hurried steps, endeavoured to school his features, and turned to face her. “Miss Bennet, how may I be of service?”

  * * *

  Elizabeth would have laughed at Mr Darcy’s slightly breathless attempt at artlessness were she not so irate. “I have come to expect staring from you, but what can you mean by lurking about windows and spying on private conversations?”

  He winced at the word “lurking,” but did not deny it. “My apologies, Miss Bennet. I—I,” he stuttered and paused. “Mrs Bennet sent me to fetch your father, and I was about to enter the house when I heard voices coming from the library window. I…you… Your voice was raised, and I was dumbstruck by the heat of the argument.”

  A moment of silence passed as their eyes met.

  Elizabeth flushed, embarrassed afresh with the confirmation that Mr Darcy had seen her at the height of her temper. “That is hardly an excuse, sir!”

  He looked away and made no reply. Sighing, she continued, “Mr Darcy, although I am sure you are shocked at my impudence, you must have deduced the very delicate nature of the conversation you just witnessed.”

  “I do grasp the delicacy of the subject matter, yes.” It looked as if he might say more, but he remained stubbornly silent.

  “Can you have the decency, sir, to promise that you will speak of what you overheard to no other soul?” She decided to come right to the point, since Mr Darcy, although visibly flustered, was being his usual taciturn self. His dark eyes, which had in the past often been steadily trained on her in what she surmised was disapproval, were now anything but steady. They darted nervously between her face and the ground. He resembled a naughty boy expecting a punishment, and she was momentarily distracted by his fine features and endearing discomposure.

  At length, he met her eyes. “Of course, madam, I give you my word. I would never dream of revealing it to anyone.” He paused, still holding her gaze. “In fact, I would rather offer to help you in your undertaking.” He looked amazed at his own words, as if they had fallen from another man’s lips.

  “I do not understand your meaning.”

  Suddenly they heard the excited exclamation of Mrs Bennet, “Lizzy! Where have you been, you irksome girl? Mr Darcy found you at last, did he?” She made her way towards them on the path.

  Mr Darcy spoke quietly and quickly, “Miss Bennet, I wish to explain myself in a more private setting. I understand that you often walk out in the morning. How early do you go?”

  Was he asking her to secretly meet him alone? Elizabeth could hardly believe it, but curi
osity and a bit of desperation urged her forward. As her mother’s yelling became louder, she haltingly answered, “In the immediate future, I must take my walks very early, around seven in the morning, so that I can return home before…certain members of the household awake.”

  He seemed to catch her meaning. “And are there any particular paths you favour on a Sunday morning?”

  “Lizzy! Come here at once! I shall not be ignored any longer!”

  Elizabeth answered in a hushed tone, “There is a path along Oakham Stream; you can reach it from the road about a mile from here.”

  “I believe I shall be able to find it.” Mr Darcy nodded and continued loudly, “And now I shall fetch your father as promised, Miss Elizabeth. Thank you for telling me where I might find him.” He strode back towards the house, leaving Elizabeth to deal with her mother.

  She shook off her confusion. “Mama, I am fetched at last. What do you require?”

  “I require you to act as a gracious hostess to our guests! Wherever have you been? How can Mr Bennet hide in his library when he has duties as host? Am I expected to do everything myself?”

  Knowing that none of these questions were anything but rhetorical, Elizabeth simply muttered apologies and proceeded towards the assembled guests.

  “Just a moment, Lizzy,” Mrs Bennet demanded. “I insist you make an effort with Mr Bingley! Stop wasting your time on that dreadful Mr Darcy who does not find you handsome. Furthermore, you must keep Charlotte Lucas away from Mr Collins! She wants to steal him from Jane; I am sure of it.”

  Elizabeth asked with some exasperation, “Mama, can you not see that Jane prefers Mr Bingley and Mr Bingley prefers Jane?”

  “Of course he does. Who would not prefer Jane? That is why you must exert yourself. I know you can be charming when you so choose. Mr Collins will propose to Jane, and why should Mr Bingley not settle for you?”

  After years of being unfavourably compared to Jane, Elizabeth endured the insulting speech fairly well. As mother and daughter returned to the guests, Mrs Bennet began, “Mr Bingley, what say you to a game of cricket?”

  “Excellent! Darcy and I played at Oxford but have rarely had the chance to play since then.”

  “Lizzy and Lydia are our best players—you should claim Lizzy for your team. Lizzy, find out who else wants to play and arrange the teams.”

  “With pleasure.” Elizabeth looked forward to a good cricket match despite the fact that it was all an elaborate matchmaking exercise for her mother.

  * * *

  Mr Darcy travelled up the path towards the house, again astonished to feel relief at Mrs Bennet’s timely appearance. He could not explain his strange offer of assistance to himself, let alone to Miss Elizabeth. He must invent a plausible excuse to rescind it before tomorrow morning. This was none of his business; it was a family matter and such a family! He ought not be involved with them any further.

  Yet, for the eldest Miss Bennets, his respect only grew. Never in his suppositions and speculations about Miss Elizabeth’s behaviour towards Mr Collins had he come close to guessing the truth. There was no sisterly rivalry, no mercenary scheme, no trifling flirtation. In the absence of proper parental care, she was protecting her sister from an unwanted suitor. Extraordinary!

  He entered the front door and, finding all the servants occupied with the picnic, went directly to the library. “Mr Bennet? I am sent by your wife to fetch you.”

  Mr Bennet was seated at his desk with the closed book still in front of him. “Yes, yes, I know. One can hear much through open windows on both sides.”

  Darcy blanched. There was far too much eavesdropping going on. Surely Mr Bennet could not have heard the latter, more hushed portion of the conversation about private paths and morning walks? He cleared his throat and continued as if nothing were amiss, “Mrs Bennet recommends that I coax you with the promise of sport…” He trailed off under Mr Bennet’s continued inspection.

  “Mr Darcy, let us speak plainly. I know you overheard my altercation with Elizabeth, and I know she has already confronted you about your bad habit of spying. She is fleet of foot, is she not?”

  Darcy made no answer, though none was likely expected.

  “I have also noted your, shall we call it preoccupation, with my second daughter. I must warn you, sir, I shall not allow Lizzy to be toyed with or hurt in any manner.”

  Could not Mr Bennet see that she had already been hurt and by his own doing? Pushing the thought from his mind, Darcy answered with the only truth he could admit to anyone, “I assure you, I have no such intentions. One cannot stand about as silently as I do without observing people, and Miss Elizabeth is a unique young lady. I have been intrigued by her behaviour towards Mr Collins.”

  “You stare at my daughter out of curiosity?”

  “I was curious, yes, to discover why she sought out Mr Collins’s company. As I know her to be uncommonly clever, I wondered why she should bother with him. My confusion has been allayed.” Darcy donned his typical mask of disinterest.

  “I see. A bit of entertainment, then, observing the locals?” Mr Bennet eyed Darcy suspiciously. “Well, I suppose my daughter has already extracted a promise of your discretion, so there is nothing to do but return to my wife and those promised outdoor amusements.”

  Darcy was relieved Mr Bennet had dropped the subjects of staring, eavesdropping, and spying, though he believed the older gentleman was not entirely satisfied with his answers. He must be more guarded in the future.

  The two gentlemen made their way out of the house to re-join the festivities, where Miss Elizabeth was organising the guests into cricket teams.

  She called out, “Come, Mr Darcy, I have been told you played cricket at Oxford. As the most experienced among us, you and Mr Bingley must serve as captains.”

  Darcy looked from a grinning Bingley to an expectant Miss Elizabeth. “Very well. Who else is on my team?”

  Bingley laughed at his friend’s capitulation. “We shall have a grand time, and I daresay my team will have the advantage. Miss Elizabeth has a mind for strategy and is familiar with the strengths and weaknesses of many of the players.”

  “Let us not be braggarts, Mr Bingley,” Miss Elizabeth cried. “The Bennets and the Lucases have often faced each other as opponents, but that is the extent of my experience. The best player of those matches, John Lucas, is unfortunately absent today.” She considered the willing players. “You Lucas brothers should be split up. Do either of you have a team preference?”

  Walter Lucas was fourteen, while Peter was twelve but nearly as tall as his brother. “I want to be on your team, Miss Lizzy!” the younger boy said. “You are the best girl player.”.

  “Such flattery certainly earns you a place on my team.” Elizabeth smiled at the boy. “Lydia, we two should be split up as well. You must be on Mr Darcy’s team.”

  “Lord, you are bossy. As long as Denny is on my team, I am satisfied,” Miss Lydia bargained.

  “You can also have Mr Chamberlayne while we take Mr Pratt and Mr Saunderson.” Miss Elizabeth gave a dazzling smile to the young redcoats.

  Turning towards the remaining Bennets and Lucases, she asked, “Well, ladies, how will you be split up? I suggest Charlotte and Mary play with me while Kitty and Maria join Lydia—beauty versus youth, you see.” Amused, Darcy watched as the reaction came more slowly to certain members of her audience. Miss Lucas laughed openly, but her sister continued blinking blankly.

  Miss Lydia snorted, adding, “How droll you are, Lizzy. We shall beat you right good for that!”

  Miss Mary pursed her lips. “Sisters, must we ruin a friendly game with such poor sportsmanship?”

  Ignoring one sister’s taunt and another’s reprimand, Miss Elizabeth searched for more potential players. She charmed and cajoled four more officers into joining the game as well as a youth named Henry Long. The new recruits were divided up, but now the teams had an uneven number. Miss Elizabeth looked around for one last player and frowned when she noticed Mr
Collins sitting with her eldest sister.

  “Jane, you must play to make the teams even.”

  Mrs Bennet intervened. “No, Jane must remain with the other guests. Find someone else.”

  “Oh, we need another gentleman actually. Mr Collins, will you not play?”

  “I fear I must decline. In my youth I was quite the player, but I have not kept up the skill. I must be content with my current activity.” He smiled mawkishly towards Miss Bennet.

  Darcy could not abide seeing that smile nor the distress that Miss Elizabeth clearly felt. He approached the parson. “Mr Collins, my team is short a player. I would be much obliged if you joined us. In fact, you might do well to reacquaint yourself with the game as I am sure Lady Catherine will ask you to play in her annual spring cricket match. She quite enjoys the spectacle.”

  Mr Collins profusely thanked him for the information and the invitation in many more words than necessary. Darcy gave Miss Elizabeth the barest hint of a smile. At first, she merely gaped at him, but soon a joyful smile grew on her face—a smile she directed for the first time, he realised, exclusively at him. Darcy was sure he could endure hours of Mr Collins’s effusions if the reward was such a smile. The new accomplices regarded each other surreptitiously while Mr Collins finished his speech.

  Bingley exclaimed, “Excellent! We shall have ten players each. I am anxious to begin!”

  * * *

  Elizabeth and Mrs Bennet ushered the guests towards the west paddock, which had for many years witnessed the epic cricket matches between the Bennet and Lucas clans.

  There were chairs, tables, blankets, and refreshments already set up on one side of the field. As Jane sat down with Mrs Hurst to watch the game, Elizabeth marvelled at how valuable an ally Mr Darcy was proving to be. Whatever his purpose for becoming involved in her family struggles, the results of his interference were undeniable. Mr Collins would spend the next several hours playing cricket rather than courting Jane.