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Mr Bennet was rather disappointed by his conversation with his daughter Elizabeth, during which he read the chief of Mr Collins's letter expressing disapproval of the match between her and Mr Darcy that had been invented by their neighbours. He had anticipated her laughter and her wit to flow. It was exactly the sort of letter that ought to have appealed to her lively nature. Instead, she had been markedly disconcerted by the discovery. She said she was diverted, but certainly did not act like it. He allowed her to leave his library before long. Perhaps, he allowed, her dislike of Mr Darcy was too strong. The idea of his proposing to her was too irksome for her to find any humour in it, no matter how delightfully absurd the notion was. He shrugged and carried on with his morning.
Several days later, however, he was reminded of this letter when he joined his family in the parlour before dinner only to discover that Lizzy and Mr Darcy had been walking together for some time! It was the first he had heard of the gentleman's return to the neighbourhood. Bennet had thought—smiling to himself at the idea—that the aunt, who objected so strenuously to the match, would have warned him of this neighbourhood expectation, if not forbid him outright from setting foot in Hertfordshire again. But Mr Darcy was his own man, of course, and always did exactly what he pleased, and it appeared that today what pleased him was to walk with Lizzy a full hour after the other young people had returned.
Had he come to let her down gently? Bennet chortled to himself, then disguised it as a cough when Kitty looked askance at him. Perhaps Mr Darcy had heard the rumour and come himself to set things straight. Perhaps he had come to let her down… not so gently. If that was the case, he would be in for a surprise, for all his fortune and consequence might be enough to prevent a match but not enough to cow Lizzy out of speaking her mind. Was that the reason the walk was taking so long: the greatest row Hertfordshire had ever seen was taking place? And he was not there to witness it?!
Mr Bennet was disappointed once again when the pair came in placidly and rejoined the family party as though nothing were amiss. He was not certain he believed Lizzy had lost her way, but what other explanation could there be? He peered at Mr Darcy. No answers were written in his ever-impenetrable face. Lizzy looked rather flustered, however. She must be really bothered by being forced to spend so much time with a man she hated. Perhaps she was embarrassed at getting lost in her own neighbourhood in front of him. If she was too busy thinking how unpleasant the walk was, every moment fearing an unwanted proposal she would be forced to refuse, rather than attending to their direction, that could have been the reason she was turned around. Mr Bennet shrugged. It was not as amusing as the gossip from the Lucases or Mr Darcy travelling specially to contradict it, but it appeared to be all there was to it. How unfortunate.
The following evening, when Mr Darcy followed him to his library after dinner and requested a few minutes of his time, Bennet could have jumped for joy. Here it comes! he thought gleefully. He mentally rubbed his hands together. Mr Darcy had heard the rumour and finally deigned to refute it—going to the lady's father as he ought, as Mr Darcy was nothing but proper at all times, except when he was calling ladies tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt him. He kept himself from smiling as his quick mind thought of all the things he would like to say, knowing full well he would never actually say them aloud to this powerful gentleman. That Mr Darcy’s concern was unnecessary as no one in the family, least of all Lizzy, desired the match. That he was welcome to propose and see how she liked it. That he was tolerable, but not rich enough to tempt Lizzy. He turned another laugh into a cough at that one.
Mr Darcy sat in the armchair across from Bennet’s. It was the same armchair his little Lizzy liked to occupy. Bennet was nearly writhing in anticipation of how Mr Darcy would approach the conversation.
“Mr Bennet,” the gentleman said, as serious and solemn as he had ever been, “Your daughter, Miss Elizabeth, has done me the great honour of accepting my offer of marriage. I come to you now to request your consent to our union.”
Bennet blinked. “I beg your pardon?” he immediately asked, because he had obviously misheard. It sounded like Mr Darcy was asking for Lizzy's hand rather than denying any intention to propose.
“Will you consent to my marrying your daughter Elizabeth, sir?” Mr Darcy patiently repeated. Mr Bennet felt a pit of dread form in his stomach. He had not heard anything wrong. Instead he was being confronted with the unthinkable: his little Lizzy marrying and leaving him…
“Has she accepted you?” he asked somewhat desperately. He was fairly certain Mr Darcy had already said she had accepted, but he needed to hear it again to believe it.
Mr Darcy finally smiled. “She has, sir.” All of a sudden he looked younger, much less stern and imposing than he typically did. A handsome young man, to be sure. If he had been smiling at Lizzy that way, it was no wonder she said yes.
“Well,” Bennet replied, “I trust Elizabeth to make her own choices. If she wishes to marry you, then she shall.”
“I thank you, sir.” Mr Darcy offered his hand. After a brief moment of surprise, Bennet took it and they shook. “Would you like to discuss the settlement now, Mr Bennet, or another time?”
“Oh, later, later,” Bennet answered hastily. “There is plenty of time to think about that.” And plenty of time for me to try to talk my silly daughter out of this, he added to himself.
“Thank you again,” Mr Darcy said as he rose. “I won't take up more of your evening.”
Mr Bennet was unable to stand and see him out, so stunned was he by this conversation, and by the realisation that Sir William and Lady Lucas had known something, had seen something about his own family that he had not. “Please send Elizabeth in to see me, Mr Darcy,” he managed to say before he was gone.
The young man turned in the doorway and smiled at him again. “I will,” he said. “And please, call me Darcy.”