Jump to new as of February 14, 1999

Posted on Sunday, 20-Sep-98

Prologue

itzwilliam Darcy sat in the neo-Grecian gardenhouse sipping tea and watching the long shadows on the lawn. No man could imagine such perfect happiness. He had just celebrated his twenty-seventh birthday, he owned one of the loveliest and most profitable estates in the whole of England and he was sitting opposite the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had come to Pemberley but four weeks ago and yet he could not remember what life had been like before. His dreams had been haunted by just such a woman for months and now she was his, his very own, his to keep forever. A tall, slender, Hellenic beauty with elaborately plaited hair and exquisite classical features. He glanced at his pocket-watch, sighed heavily and laid down his cup before forcing himself to get up and walk towards the house with only the briefest of parting glances at his Galatea who remained immobile and passionless on her plinth. And that, dear reader, was how it began.

Longbourn is a pretty little estate in North Hertfordshire with a handsome Queen Anne house, an excellent farm and some of the best apple orchards outside Kent. I suppose there are many like it all over England and each as dear to its inhabitants as Longbourn is to me but I cannot imagine them. I only know this dear, sweet place in which I was born and grew to adulthood with nothing to vex me or cause me pain. I was blessed with excellent health and a good education; I had the sweetest of fathers, the most doting of mothers and four sisters. Who could have asked for more? I certainly could not.

I continued in this happy way until I was almost two-and-twenty and then an event occurred which, although it had no direct bearing on our family, shewed to me the folly of my happy, idle existence. My father's cousin, Mr. Edward Collins, died. Mr. Collins was to have inherited Longbourn on my father's death but upon his death the right to our home and estate passed to his son, William, a young man of about four-and-twenty. The event brought home most forcibly to my poor Mamma the precariousness of our situation should my Papa die before we were all married, and it broke my heart to see her so full of concern and distress for our sakes. I felt it most acutely, for as the eldest I felt it my duty to marry well and help introduce my younger sisters into society, and I had failed. I was in my twenty-second year and still single.

My sister, Elizabeth, who is next to me in age comforted me by saying I was quite the most beautiful and would undoubtedly marry soon and very well indeed but I could not believe her. It seemed like so much pandering to my vanity, my believing her I mean. Lizzy is the sincerest creature in the world, she never flatters, but I sometimes think she is a little too kind to me. When I was fifteen and staying with my Aunt Gardiner in London I met a man who seem to like me very much, and although I was never in love with him, he remained in my memory as the most agreeable man of my acquaintance. He was gentle, intelligent and unassuming; he was also rather handsome which a young man ought to be, if he possibly can. Since then, my sister assures me, I have liked much stupider people.

I realized, to my shame and dismay, upon hearing of the death of Mr. Collins that I had spent almost seven years in the delusion that another such gentleman would walk into my life and that this one would be the man into whose keeping I could give my whole heart with no regrets or fears. I came to see myself as the most selfish of creatures and resolved that in future I would act not only in my own interest but in the interest of all my dear family.

Many things happened in the year between my twenty-second and twenty-third birthdays. I disciplined myself to become less giddy, less a lover of pleasure and more of a dutiful daughter. Lizzy found much to laugh at in my efforts and good-naturedly promised me, almost every night, that I was already quite angelic and did not need improvement. Dear Lizzy, she is kindest of sisters and the best of friends, but I could not confide in her my determination to marry well. I had already told her that I so longed to marry for love and I could not bear to have her think ill of me having changed my mind.

It was into this situation that Mr. Bingley came. He was described to us as a young man of good fortune from the North of England and proved his wealth by renting the estate of Netherfield for the entire winter. My Mamma could not contain herself at the news. Her joy knew no bounds for she was quite sure Mr. Bingley would fall in love with one of us. Lizzy and I bore it with patient good-humour; she because she was used to Mamma's ways, and me because I had made up my mind that I would be the one Mr. Bingley fell in love with. I could not bear the thought of dear Lizzy's wit and vivacity sinking under the care of penury and I knew that only the deepest love would induce her into matrimony, so she would not stoop to snare our new neighbour herself. Poor Mary had so few pleasures in life and the ones she did have, music and reading, are the preserve of the comfortable; Catherine and Lydia, although I hate to say it, had little to recommend them beyond youth and health, so the sooner they found husbands the better. It was my duty to marry well, and I was determined to do it.

I had my first opportunity to meet Mr. Bingley at a ball in the Assembly Rooms at Meryton. It was rumoured that he would come with a large party of four gentlemen and twelve ladies. Too many ladies! said Lizzy jokingly, but it took me all my time to conceal my fear, for among a party of twelve there was sure to be one he preferred above the others and my efforts would be in vain. In the event, however, he arrived with only his two sisters, his brother-in-law and a friend.

He danced the first with Charlotte Lucas which was quite proper as she was the daughter of his host. Charlotte was the most amiable and good-natured of girls, but as much as I wanted her to find a good husband and soon, for she was already seven-and-twenty, I did not want it to be Mr. Bingley. I noted as soon as he entered the room that he was very close, in appearance and manner at least, to the man I would have chosen for myself if I had been permitted the luxury of choice. However, when he was introduced to us it was Elizabeth and not myself he singled out and asked to dance. Could anything have been more likely? Elizabeth, all sweetness and vivacity, was the very woman to attract that lively and good-humoured gentleman, and I rejoiced at the prospect of him losing his heart to her very soon.

Mr. Bingley returned Lizzy to us and asked me for the boulanger. I agreed readily for I was even more anxious to determine his character for Lizzy's sake than I had been for my own. He was all cordiality and I could not find a single fault in him and that, dear reader, ought to have sounded a warning even in my dull brain. He engaged me for the next only because Lizzy was already promised to dance with Edward Goulding, and all without warning I found myself half in love with this man whom only a few hours ago I had intended to snare for his five thousand a year.

What a sorry creature I had become in the course of a fortnight! I had gone from a romantic to a schemer to a romantic again. I am rather glad my career as a schemer was so short-lived, for I have neither the imagination or the memory to be good at it and, in true Bennet form, a bad tendency to tell the truth at the wrong moments. I observed my sister and Mr. Bingley very closely until I became aware of being observed myself, and at this juncture I must introduce Mr. Darcy who is so important to my story.

Fitzwilliam Darcy was then seven-and-twenty and although many years have elapsed since that dance at Netherfield and my picking up my pen to tell you of it, I must confess he is still the most handsome man of my acquaintance.

What Happened When Jane Bennet Met Mr. Darcy

Posted on Saturday, 13 February 1999

I had, of course, noticed Mr. Darcy the moment he walked into the room. He was tall, slim but well made, with dark wavy hair and an expression that although it was not designed to please would warm any woman's heart. I am afraid he made himself most unpopular by dancing only with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley but that was of no consequence to me. I could not judge the poor man harshly for wanting to dance only with his friends. We do not all perform well for strangers.

It was about half way through the evening when I realized he was watching me. My attention until then had been taken up with Mr. Bingley and Lizzy and with making sure that Kitty and Lydia did not run amok and embarrass us all the way they had at the previous assembly. I noticed Mr. Darcy looking curiously at Lizzy when Mr. Bingley asked her to dance the third time and I concluded that if Mr. Bingley was the sweet and reticent young man that he appeared to be that his singling out Lizzy thus must be evidence of a serious interest. At first I could not determine his feelings toward the idea of Mr. Bingley and Lizzy but then it became clear to me that he was as interested in Bingley and Elizabeth as I was myself and I immediately felt a strong fellow-feeling for him. He was as solicitous for his friend's happiness as I was for my sister's.

As was usual at the Meryton Assembly there were fewer gentlemen than ladies, or at least there were fewer dancing gentlemen than ladies. I found myself sitting out for more than one dance while Lizzy danced with Mr. Bingley and Kitty and Lydia danced with anyone who would ask them. My sister Mary remarked to me that she would far prefer a good book to a partner but for myself I prefer to dance at a dance.

I allowed myself to look at him while I pretended an interest in Mary's philosophising, I hope that does not sound too hypocritical but I had heard it all before. Oh, he was handsome! I heard myself saying something to Mary about liking the dance better if there were many partners as agreeable as Lizzy's to go around but in truth the more Mr. Darcy looked at me the less I thought about Lizzy and Mr. Bingley. And then, dear reader, he was standing before me.

"Would you do me the honour of dancing the next with me, Miss Bennet?"

His voice was irresistible; educated, cultured and with a certain edge of authority that made me feel too weak at the knees even to consider dancing. We joined the dance not only to the astonishment of the whole room but of myself as well. Mr. Darcy dance with me? I caught Lizzy's eye at that moment and she was laughing at me so I knew I was going to be teased later.

I was far too frightened of him to say much or even smile much but he was the perfect gentleman and soon I found myself quite unafraid of him. I was, however, very much afraid of my mother for I had never danced with a man worth ten thousand a year before and I did not like to imagine what might be running through her head at that moment. Fortunately he did not seem to be very talkative and I was saved from the embarrassment of having nothing to say. I was sure if he had danced with Lizzy she would have found a good deal to say to him but she was more agreeably engaged with Mr. Bingley.

The journey back to Longbourn was not a long one, I am glad to say, for Kitty and Lydia's exchanges on their partners was not something I could bear to listen to for long. We found Papa still up. Dear Papa, with a book he is quite oblivious to time and on this occasion he had a good deal of curiosity as to the events of an evening so long looked forward to. I suspect he hoped Mamma would be disappointed in Mr. Bingley for he so loves to tease her but on this occasion the disappointment was all his for Mamma could not have been more delighted with the turn of events.

"Oh, Mr. Bennet!" she cried before Hill had even got her out of her coat, "Can you imagine how happy I am?"

"You know, my dear, how I love to hear of novelties."

Mamma needed no encouragement, "Well, Mr. Bingley is everything we could have hoped for! Oh, Mr. Bennet, he is so handsome and he danced with Lizzy three times although I do not know why but never mind about that Mr. Bingley and his five thousand a year is quite nothing and Lizzy may have him if she chuses…"

She paused, uncharacteristically, for breath and Papa frowned over his spectacles. Of course he had met Mr. Bingley and knew exactly how handsome and charming he was but that Mamma would dismiss him as being fit only for Lizzy was something utterly beyond his expectation. I am afraid he gawped.

"What did you say, Mrs. Bennet?"

Mamma squealed just like Lydia and sat down beside him, "You heard me, Mr. Bennet, you heard me. However, seeing as Lizzy is your favourite child I shall tell you all about Mr. Bingley and leave the best for last…" she giggled expressively in my direction and I felt myself blush.

"He danced the first with Charlotte Lucas, that mortified me I can tell you but after that he would not be separated from Elizabeth. He danced the second with her and the two third and the boulanger with Miss Grey but…"

"I wish he had broken his ankle in the first dance!" cried Papa making us all laugh, "May I be as happy as to hear the rest of this in the morning?"

"Oh, no! No, indeed! The Bingleys are rich, I dare say the lace on Mrs. Hurst's gown…"

"No lace, Mrs. Bennet, no lace!" roared Papa in his customary objection to all descriptions of finery and frippery.

Mamma smirked. "Very well then, sir, no lace. Have you noticed how lovely Jane is recently?"

"Jane has always been lovely," he replied gallantly. I wished with all my heart I could leave the room and go straight to bed.

"Jane is so lovely as to have captured the attention of a Mr. Darcy who is reputed to own a great estate in Derbyshire and have ten thousand pounds a year. Ten thousand pounds a year! What think you of that?"

Papa looked kindly at me but Lizzy spoke first, "Of course he danced with Jane, mamma. He could see she was quite ten times prettier than any other woman in the room."

"He was taken with her!" declared Mamma, "I am I such a fool that I cannot tell when a man is absolutely besotted with my daughter?"

Snoring from the corner reminded us that it was definitely time to retire and between waking Mary and persuading Lydia that it was not at all likely that the War Office would quarter a regiment in Meryton for the winter I managed to reach my own chamber without hearing Mr. Darcy mentioned again. Except that I thought about him all night.