A Wife for Mr. Darcy

With all paths to Meryton muddied from recent rains, it was impossible for anyone at Longbourn to venture into the village without risking ruining shoes or soiling frocks, so all of the Bennets were at home. While Mrs. Bennet was in her bedchamber resting, Mr. Bennet kept to his library, successfully ignoring Mary’s attempt to master a new piece on the pianoforte. In the parlor, Lydia and Kitty perused a magazine obtained from the circulating library showing the latest London fashions, and Lizzy was upstairs pinning up the hem on Jane’s new dress. It was then that Mrs. Hill came to announce that Mr. Darcy was in the parlor and wished to speak to Miss Elizabeth.
    “Mr. Darcy! Here to see me?” Lizzy looked at Jane with a puzzled expression. After their awful meeting at the assembly, she was hoping the gentleman would return to London and that she would never have to be in his company again.
    “Yes, miss. The gentleman asked your father if he could have a word with you, and Mr. Bennet said he had no objection.”
    “What can he possibly want?” Jane asked.
    “Perhaps he thinks I did not hear his insults regarding my beauty, or lack of it, and has come to tell me in person.” Both sisters giggled, and when Jane offered to go downstairs with her sister, Lizzy said that she was not afraid of him and would go into the lion’s den alone.
    When Lizzy entered the parlor, she found Mr. Darcy lost in thought and staring out the window, so much so that he had not heard her come in.
    “Mr. Darcy, I understand you wish to speak to me,” she said, interrupting his reverie.
    “Yes, I do, and I thank you for receiving me.” He declined an offer of tea, explaining that his visit would be brief, but then said nothing. If it was to be a short visit, then why did he not begin? He obviously had a purpose in mind but was having difficulty finding the right words with which to express it.
    “Miss Elizabeth, at the assembly, you overhead a remark I made in which I stated that I chose not to dance with you because you were tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt me. Even if the statement had been true, it was incredibly rude to have uttered it, and I have come to apologize.”
    Mr. Darcy’s confession came as a complete surprise to Lizzy, but she now understood the reason for his struggle. He was not in the habit of admitting he had erred.
    “Your apology is accepted, Mr. Darcy. I appreciate that you took the trouble to come to tell me in person that I am more than tolerable,” Lizzy said, half laughing at his clumsy effort to repair any damage resulting from his comment.
    Darcy winced at her response. “I can assure you that I find you to be much more than tolerable, Miss Elizabeth. You are a very handsome woman, and I might have had an opportunity to express such a sentiment if I had sought an introduction. However, I do not have the talent of conversing easily with those whom I have never seen before. I cannot appear to be interested in their concerns as others do, and I find I have little patience for the type of discourse one hears at these dances.”
    “What type of discourse is that, Mr. Darcy?”
    “The usual banter about weather and roads and other such things that are of little interest to me,” and leaning forward in his chair, he continued, “Whether it be Meryton or London, I hear the same conversations. A lady will comment on the number of couples in attendance at a dance, and the gentleman will respond by mentioning the size of the ballroom. And what, pray tell, do we learn from that exchange? One party is good with measurements, and the other can count.”
    Now Lizzy laughed openly. “Sir, you mistake the purpose of such an exchange. It is certainly not about the dimensions of the room or the number of couples. The parties are merely trying to sketch each other’s character so that they might discover if this is a person they would like to get to know better. If that is the case, one can hope that another conversation about some weightier matter might follow in a quieter venue.”
    “But you are an intelligent woman. Do you not find the whole exercise to be tedious?”
    “No, I do not, and may I add that you puzzle me. You tell me you are uncomfortable conversing with those with whom you are not acquainted, but then you complain about a lack of conversation. This puts me in mind of a gentleman I met at a card party. He said that he did not like the food and then grumbled that there was not