crosspost: Elizabeth's feelings about Darcy

[anghraine]

I've written a lot of meta (/hopelessly considers the deadline), but this is one of the ones that took the most amount of sheer time and energy, so I definitely want to save it! 

I was once writing a fic series about this but got lured away by the siren song of Star Wars. Anyway, I’ve been meaning to provide a guide to the evolution of Elizabeth’s emotions for awhile, and at long last I have time to myself, so–here goes.

Note from the future [2014]: omfg this is ridiculously long, basically all my thoughts on their entire relationship after the first proposal crossed with a recap. Every time I try to shorten it, it just grows again. CONSIDER YOURSELF FOREWARNED.

 

1) The Letter

Elizabeth’s response to the letter is often a bit simplified, I think. While it does clear the air (and, like I said before, the letter itself is amazing), it starts the shift in her feelings and accompanying character development, doesn’t end it. 

First, it hits her that “generally standoffish and being rude twice” does not make him a bad person. It’s not even really evidence of being a bad person, just an unlikable one. She has no evidence that he’s the soulless monster she’s been taking him as beyond Wickham’s story, which she now realizes is very questionable. And really, “a bit unpleasant but people who know him well like him a lot” doesn’t suggest “secretly evil.” It…kind of suggests the reverse, actually.

And he loves his sister. Even Wickham admitted it (ish); Elizabeth has noticed it herself, because lol Darcy talks about her all the time. (x)

So the stage we’re at is “probably not evil.” Elizabeth acknowledges outright that she was not in love with anyone except herself; she was just flattered by Wickham, and offended by Darcy’s “neglect.” That could, possibly, be stretched to some initial/subconscious attraction (neglect implies a certain expectation of more). No more. (x)

At any rate, the letter quickly consumes all her attention, extinguishing her interest in Colonel Fitzwilliam. (x) She reads it so much she practically memorizes it; sometimes she’s pissed at Darcy, sometimes she’s sorry for him and terribly guilty about how she treated him. (x) Remember, she tried to respond politely to Mr Collins' proposal, far worse than even Darcy’s, which says rather a lot about just how contemptible she thought Darcy was. 

(Elizabeth is a deeply considerate person–another thing that gets overlooked about her a lot, I think.)

In the end, she’s gratified that he fell madly in love with her (she has to reason herself out of feeling a bit smug about it and looks forward to telling Jane (x)), thinks he’s basically a decent guy, but she doesn’t approve of him and she definitely doesn’t regret refusing him. He wasn’t unprincipled or malicious or anything like that, the way she thought, but he’s still an asshole. She doesn’t want to be married to someone like that.

There’s a book about this, btw–a woman who marries a man who is exactly what Elizabeth believes Darcy to be at this point: basically decent, but arrogant and controlling with a bad temper. He has absolute power over her and evolves into this nightmarish emotional abuser who makes her life a living hell while self-righteously convinced that he’s the injured one. It's One Fault by Frances Trollope–the ‘one fault’ is being bad-tempered. Elizabeth’s concern is 100% valid.

Back at Longbourn, Elizabeth’s family is so awful that she’s inclined to agree with Darcy about them (x) and forgive him for Jane and Bingley. She reiterates both to Jane (x, x) and Wickham (x) that she thinks Darcy is essentially a good person. 

2) Pemberley - Day 1

As we know, Elizabeth is very favourably impressed by Pemberley. Interestingly, the grandeur is described only vaguely (stuff is “large” and “suitable”). The emphasis is on how tasteful everything is–we’ve never seen Elizabeth’s idea of what Pemberley is like, but it’s obvious she was expecting something like gaudy Rosings (x, x). It’s then that she starts to waver in her absolute conviction that she could never have married him–though only for a moment. She quickly reminds herself that, basic decency and nice sense of aesthetics notwithstanding, Darcy would have controlled her life and isolated her from her family. (x)

In case there was any doubt: a One Fault-like scenario is clearly very present in her mind. A husband doesn’t have to be a Gothic monster to make your life profoundly miserable.

Still, the sheer beauty of everything clearly weighs with her. This is also the point at which she admits that he’s super hot. (x)

But then we switch into something much more important, and the reason I mentioned One Fault. Mrs Reynolds, Darcy’s elderly housekeeper, loves him. She loves him a lot. In fact, it turns out that everyone at Pemberley loves him a lot, because…he’s actually really nice. (x) When it comes to the people at Pemberley–not random social acquaintances whose lives he expects to scarcely impact, but those who are actually under his power–he’s responsible, kind, considerate, and generally upstanding. (x)

Elizabeth interacted with Darcy over the course of a few months, when he was on his worst behaviour and she wildly misunderstood even that. Mrs Reynolds has lived under his direct, immediate authority for twenty-four years, and the people at Pemberley live with him for six months at a time. Obviously they’d know him better.

Again, her interest in Darcy overrides everything else. (x)

And what’s particularly highlighted–though I think the weight of it gets overlooked–is less the extravagant gestures of generosity than a basic pleasantness. He’s not cross with the servants, ever; he was a sweet-tempered, generous child and continues to be so (x); he doesn’t abuse his power and in fact handles his authority surpassingly well; he adores his sister and does everything he can to make her happy. (x) He is, in a word, good-natured.

This is after the letter, after 'in essentials as he ever was,’ after the good taste, but it may be the thing that matters most of all. Elizabeth is completely stunned. Her most basic opinion of him–the reason she couldn’t approve of him even after the letter, the reason she always tended to dislike him–has been that he’s a grumpy asshole. Not sometimes. Not just at balls. Not just at awkward house parties, or when reluctantly tumbling into love. One of the world’s natural jerks.

Except, he’s not. Not a basically good person with a bad temper, but a basically good-tempered person under a layer of arrogance and reserve that, for various reasons that are both his fault and hers, are all she ever saw.

Elizabeth stands in front of his portrait, reeling from all this. She’s never really seemed to register him smiling at her, but now she remembers it, prompted by the portrait–apparently so typical, at least before his father’s death, that the smile made it into a formal painting. (x) She’s suddenly much more grateful that he loved her, and remembers the proposal far more fondly than before, focusing more on the carried-away-by-love part than the even-though-your-family-sucks bits.

Then she leaves, and bam! He shows up. Most awkward meeting of all time, quite possibly. And true to the description she’s just heard, he’s nice–awkward, blushing and repeating himself, but courteous. He quickly leaves and Elizabeth is left to simmer in anguished embarrassment. Even now, she still misjudges him:

In what a disgraceful light might it not strike so vain a man! It might seem as if she had purposely thrown herself in his way again!

Later we’ll discover that Darcy felt exactly one emotion: surprise. And really, he’d have to be much vainer than he’s ever shown himself to be (he tends far more to pride–vanity is mostly her thing) to think, the first time he’s seen her since her scathing refusal, 'oh yes, clearly travelled halfway across the country to throw herself at me.’ But given that she’s only just had her entire concept of his personality turned upside-down, it’s understandable. It does show that she’s still tending to view him negatively, though.

Anyway–suddenly she doesn’t care about anything else, even the scenery. She’s dissecting what just happened, desperately wondering if he’s still in love with her, why he was so nice to her, etc. (x) He returns, is introduced to the Gardiners, and strikes up conversation with Mr Gardiner:

Elizabeth could not but be pleased, could not but triumph. It was consoling that he should know she had some relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, his taste, or his good manners.

So she obviously cares what he thinks; she continues to be both flattered and bewildered by his pleasantness (back in Kent, Colonel Fitzwilliam had mentioned that Darcy wasn’t acting like himself, but the scene was Charlotte’s POV, not Elizabeth’s). It seems that she both wants to think he took her reproofs to heart, and can’t actually believe it.

It is impossible that he should still love me.

Mm-hmm.

She immediately felt that whatever desire Miss Darcy might have of being acquainted with her must be the work of her brother, and without looking farther, it was satisfactory; it was gratifying to know that his resentment had not made him think really ill of her.

Elizabeth was not comfortable; that was impossible; but she was flattered and pleased.

Gratification continues to be her dominant emotion, no longer complicated by dislike. Flattery is something she’s always rather enjoyed, which certainly did Darcy no favours earlier (nor her, in the long run). It’s turning out better, this time. Darcy is bothering to make courteous, considerate gestures, and Elizabeth is flattered not by sleazy ingratiation but genuine good will (and affection, though she’s trying not to think too hard about that).

When Mr Gardiner suggests that Darcy might be whimsical and hypocritical, Elizabeth feels he’s “entirely mistaken his character,” though she doesn’t say anything. And although she trails dutifully after Mrs Gardiner to visit her friends, she can’t think about anything except how nice Darcy was and 

above all, of his wishing her to be acquainted with his sister.

'Elizabeth discovers something new about Darcy and can’t think about anything else’ continues to be a theme! But it’s a long-standing one, and I think comes about equally from 1) the legitimately bizarre and distracting situations the “something new” arises from and 2) Darcy holds a certain fascination for her and always has–he's interesting to her.

(an opinion shared by Anna Isabella Milbanke, the future Lady Byron: It is not a crying book, but the interest is very strong, especially for Mr Darcy. :D)

3) Pemberley - Day 2

When he brings Georgiana to visit Elizabeth the next day, the Gardiners start to suspect shenanigans. They poke around a bit and observe them and quickly decide that a) Elizabeth might not be in love but probably is, and b) Darcy definitely is.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth spends a night trying to figure out her feelings towards “one" (her italics, lol) at Pemberley. She knows she respects him and likes him now and feels bad about hating him and he’s being so nice now and obviously he loves her a ton and she wants him to be happy and she thinks he’s a really great guy but agggggggh everything is so complicated!!!

(x)

Also, she’s excited to go back to Pemberley (she and Mrs Gardiner are calling on Georgiana) and can’t really explain it lol

(x)

4) Pemberley - Day 3

Elizabeth, sitting with the Bingley sisters and Georgiana and Mrs Annesley, is torn between being afraid Darcy might come back and wishing he would. She’s leaning more towards ‘wishing he would’ when he does come back, and it’s awkward and Caroline is awful but actually it turns out pretty well.

She and Mrs Gardiner want to talk about him, but neither has the nerve to start, so instead they talk about Georgiana, Pemberley, the Bingleys, and the nectarines.

(x)

5) Lambton - Lydiagate

Elizabeth gets the letters about Lydia and is surprised by Darcy. After interrogating her about the details of the elopement, he starts pacing. Elizabeth promptly assumes he no longer loves her, and can’t even blame him. She feels convinced that she could have loved him. (x)

(Not that she does yet, however.)

(Give her time.)

He leaves, and Elizabeth regrets it and is even more miserable than she was already.

Good job, Darcy.

6) Longbourn - Lydiagate

Elizabeth actually realizes she’s in love offscreen, when Darcy isn’t even there—we just hear that, thankfully, everything is so awful that she doesn’t need to explain why she’s so particularly miserable, but she’s “by this time tolerably well acquainted with her own feelings” and knows that it wouldn’t be nearly so bad without that. She dryly splits her sleepless nights: half are for Lydia, half for Darcy. (x)

7) Longbourn - post Lydiagate

Elizabeth regrets telling Darcy. There’s no one she could trust more, but there’s also no one she would rather not know about it, though it makes little practical difference. Brother-in-law of Wickham is brother-in-law of Wickham regardless of how the marriage came about. She’s grieved and penitent, “jealous of his esteem,” longs to hear anything about him, and sure that they would have been happy together, and that their personalities are perfectly suited and they would have continued to influence each other for the better. (x)

Woe.

8) Longbourn - Lydia

Darcy was at Lydia’s wedding. Elizabeth freaks out and writes a panicky letter to Mrs Gardiner demanding an explanation, which she receives at the beginning of next chapter. Elizabeth is stunned for the umpteenth time and decides that his explanation of feeling responsible is essentially true, though aided by his partiality for her—she can’t quite believe that he’s still properly in love with her. She’s both agonized over just how much they owe to someone who can never be repaid, and delighted by how wonderful he’s proving to be. In a reversal of how pride has been characterized through the whole book, we got the adorable line: she was proud of him.

(eeeeeeeeee)

Oh, and she’s glad that Mrs Gardiner praised him (and reads it over and over) BUT IT’S NOT ENOUGH OK (though she’s happysad that the Gardiners were so convinced that she and Darcy had an ~understanding~).

(x)

9) Longbourn - Bingley’s return

Elizabeth is consumed with anxiety, for Jane and for herself; she thinks that her interest in Darcy is less tender than Jane’s in Bingley, but as just.

(????? Elizabeth and Darcy have certainly never been a particularly tender couple, tbh. I’ve never been quite sure what just means in this context, tbh. Justifiable, I suppose??)

Anyway, her eyes light up and she starts blushing. From dispassionate respect ;)

Darcy mostly acts like his old self, withdrawn and standoffish. Elizabeth assumes it’s because her mother’s terribleness makes him uncomfortable, which is probably true, though he’s also preoccupied with possible matchmaking (lol) and Elizabeth’s lack of encouragement. She’s too nervous to talk to him, though he’s the only one she does want to talk to. Between Mrs Bennet’s oblivious faux pas and everything else, she finally just wishes miserably that both men would go away. After they do leave, she sulks, particularly, that he was pleasant to Mr and Mrs Gardiner in town, when she wasn’t even there, and pretty much ignored her existence at Longbourn. 

(x)

10) Longbourn - COFFEE

My precious scene <3

There’s a big party at Longbourn and Elizabeth hasn’t been able to interact with Darcy at all, so she’s looking forward to the men coming back as the only chance of any enjoyment whatsoever and swearing to herself that she will giVE HIM UP FOREVERRRRR if he doesn’t talk to her then and when he tries to come near a girl is all ~eww men~ and he wanders off.

Elizabeth watches him move around the room, is jealous of everyone he talks to, and gets pissed at the people who want her to, y’know, actually pour the coffee and then at herself for being a ridiculous person. (She is being a ridiculous person. It’s adorable.) And she’s scolding herself for thinking that, even if nothing else had gone wrong, a man who’s been refused already?? He’ll NEVER

OH WAIT HE’S COMING BAAAAACK (for more coffee)

(She’ll pour him coffee)

She tries to make conversation with him but he just answers briefly and then stands silently there Darcy wasn’t your stunning mix of pride and social awkwardness supposed to be cured by the magical power of love lol no never. 

And then random misandrist girl drives him off again.

And then Mrs Bennet makes everyone play cards and ALAS~~ puts them on different teams and Elizabeth’s only comfort is that he looks in her direction a lot and plays just as badly as she does.

This scene is flawless and nobody will convince me otherwise. Why is it never in the adaptations it’s just ... perfection.

(x)

11) Longbourn - two couples down, one to go

Elizabeth jokes to herself that Jane and Bingley will undoubtedly get engaged unless Darcy returns unexpectedly (he left for ten days). But she quickly adds, still to herself, that she’s actually pretty sure Bingley has his permission Darcy’s onboard the good ship Bingley/Jane at this point.

~true love~

(After Bingley and Jane’s engagement, Elizabeth is also grateful that Bingley didn’t tell Jane about Darcy’s involvement, because she’s sure that would prejudice Jane against him. I will admit that I personally think she’s projecting a bit there; Jane wouldn’t know a prejudice if it bit her.)

(x)

12) Longbourn - Lady Catherine

Lady Catherine is an asshole, news at eleven. Elizabeth thinks: How could I ever think her like her nephew?’

Gosh, I don’t know. Maybe because she’s basically Darcy to the power of ten, with his brains traded out for a higher place on the table of precedence.

There’s also: 

"If Mr Darcy is neither by honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?”

“Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or friends, if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and despised, by every one connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us.”

“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But the wife of Mr Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine.”

*chinhands*

Tell me more.

13) Longbourn - Lady Catherine aftermath

So it turns out that 1) Elizabeth, yet again, can’t stop thinking of this latest Darcy-provoked surprise, and 2) Elizabeth was kind of hoping that Jane and Bingley’s marriage would throw them together. A bit. Maybe. Just a possibility! 

(Perfect premise for a fluff fic, y/y? I wrote a really angsty one where that happens–like, one where ten people die–but it’d be nice to read something that’s just Darcy and Elizabeth stumbling across each other at Netherfield and being awkward and adorable.)

She also thinks that Darcy must think better of Lady Catherine than Elizabeth, and that her insane arguments might actually seem reasonable to him if she attacks on the snobbery angle (“his weakest side”). 

This is a justifiable misapprehension given the past, but I do wonder a bit if she ever stops confidently misjudging him? Like, at Pemberley she thought he’d think she was throwing herself at him (no), at Lambton she just knew that he seemed distracted and unhappy because his horror overcame his love (no), back at Longbourn she’s sure that brother-in-law of Wickham and second proposal would prevent any serious intention on his part (no), and now she’s, oh, he’s still snobbish enough that the bizarre troll logic will make sense to him (no!). 

(Of all the trumped up reasons to throw drama into Darcy and Elizabeth’s early marriage, I think this might actually be the most probable.)

She also thinks he’s been wavering about whether he should marry her or not.

lol

Anyway, she’s basically upsetting herself over what if Lady Catherine gets to him!!! but then she comes around to the splendid conclusion of “well, fuck him then.”

Elizabeth Bennet, ladies and gentlemen. 

(x)

14) Longbourn - letter

When Mr Bennet jokes that he didn’t know he had two daughters on the verge of matrimony, Elizabeth blushes scarlet, assuming that Darcy actually wrote to Mr Bennet before speaking to her—she’s not sure if she’s pleased, or offended that he didn’t run it past her first. Again, Elizabeth <3

Of course he’s all LOL AS IF DARCY WOULD LOOK AT YOU which is approximately the least funny thing in the world to her at this moment, and now she starts to worry that maybe it’s not her father isn’t seeing what’s there, but she’s been seeing something that isn’t there.

It was necessary to laugh, when she would rather have cried

:(

15) Longbourn - proposal

Elizabeth thanks Darcy for fixing the Lydiagate section, he proposes, and she replies with…

Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change, since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. 

...something.

>_>

Austen, I love you, I do, but would it kill you to actually show this?

(Though, lol, Emma. I should count my blessings)

So. Elizabeth may or may not actually admit that she loves him. At any rate she incoherently accepts. She can’t quite work up the nerve to look him in the face (Elizabeeeeeth), but she happily listens to him talk about how wonderful she is.

They walked on, without knowing in what direction

After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know any thing about it

Irrelevant, just

*shriek*

MY BABIES

SILLYHAPPY AT LAST

BUSY FOR SEVERAL MILES HAHAHAHAHA

And she just smiles at his matchmaking

a;jkldfadf;jk

(She also decides against openly laughing at him right away.)

16) Longbourn - after the engagement

After Darcy and Elizabeth return to Longbourn, they stay quiet–Darcy because he’s Darcy, Elizabeth because of 1) awkwardness, and 2) worrying about explaining things to her family. That night, she tells a stunned Jane, giving us an interchange that is both the first time Elizabeth explicitly says she loves Darcy and fantastic.

“Oh, Lizzy! it cannot be. I know how much you dislike him.”

“You know nothing of the matter. That is all to be forgot. Perhaps I did not always love him so well as I do now. But in such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable. This is the last time I shall ever remember it myself.”

“Oh, Lizzy! do any thing rather than marry without affection. Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought to do?”

“Oh, yes! You will only think I feel more than I ought to do, when I tell you all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why, I must confess that I love him better than I do Bingley. I am afraid you will be angry.”

<3

And of course there’s what may be the most misunderstood quote in P&P, though there are a lot of contenders:

“Will you tell me how long you have loved him?”

“It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began. But I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley.”

Another intreaty that she would be serious, however, produced the desired effect; and she soon satisfied Jane by her solemn assurances of attachment.

In context, the entire conversation thus far has been Jane prodding Elizabeth about her feelings, and Elizabeth–not someone who enjoys self-reflection–responding flippantly. This is more of the same; she’s joking. That’s obvious by Jane’s response. It is a joke with a grain of truth, but only a grain, not literally true. 

Elizabeth did not fall in love when she saw Pemberley’s loveliness. Going over the scene (*points up*) makes that eminently clear. Rather, Pemberley's tasteful beauty was the first thing to shake her conception of Darcy as an obnoxious jerk–and that only a little, until Mrs Reynolds’ testimony. But the Pemberley experience overall, the good taste and a long history of being a genuinely sweet person where it matters most and his dramatically altered behaviour to her–that’s what started her falling in love, definitely.

It’s irrelevant, but really cute: Jane says she always thought highly of Darcy, that she would always have liked him for loving Elizabeth, but that now she loves him better than everyone except Bingley and Elizabeth. (Sorry, Mary, Kitty, Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet, etc…but I can’t blame her.)

17) Longbourn - next day

Elizabeth gets annoyed at her mother for always insulting Darcy. She and Darcy agree that he’ll speak to Mr Bennet and she to Mrs Bennet–Elizabeth really doesn’t want him there for Mrs Bennet’s initial reaction. (Understandably.)

Explaining things to her father is supremely awkward, but this is when we get another explicit declaration of love from her:

How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate! It would have spared her from explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give; but they were now necessary, and she assured him, with some confusion, of her attachment to Mr Darcy.

“None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him.”

“I do, I do like him,” she replied, with tears in her eyes, “I love him. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not know what he really is; then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in such terms.”

Yeah, all the people who go on about how just respects his character and position but doesn't reallllly fall for him at the end?

Nah.

She’s upset by people insulting him, even though it’s rather less than she herself has said to his face, she loves him, she’s been agonizing over him for several months at this point and finally they’re together but now there are all these other things to deal with, arrrrgh.

So she “enumerat[es] with energy all his good qualities” and wins her father over.

She starts feeling better once that’s over, and happily teases Darcy and demands explanations:

“My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may be; and I shall begin directly by asking you what made you so unwilling to come to the point at last. What made you so shy of me, when you first called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you called, did you look as if you did not care about me?”

“Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.”

“But I was embarrassed.”

“And so was I.”

“You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner.”

“A man who had felt less, might.”

He’s ten years younger than Mr Knightley, but clearly a man after his own heart.

This part also is clearly skimming over several days–later determined to be three–but I think it’s evident that her feelings for him are hardly a verboten topic:

“Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy, for she loves to be of use. But tell me, what did you come down to Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed? or had you intended any more serious consequence?”

“My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me.”

(Ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed. ilu Elizabeth lololol)

(This whole conversation is wonderful, and likewise generally excised from adaptations.)

But in case you’re not quite sure, Elizabeth then writes this letter to Mrs Gardiner:

I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory, detail of particulars; but to say the truth, I was too cross to write. You supposed more than really existed. But now suppose as much as you choose; give a loose to your fancy, indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the subject will afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more than you did in your last. I thank you, again and again, for not going to the Lakes. How could I be so silly as to wish it! Your idea of the ponies is delightful. We will go round the Park every day. I am the happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but not one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Mr Darcy sends you all the love in the world that he can spare from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas.

<3

Also, Elizabeth–who once told him that his discomfort with strangers was the result of just not trying hard enough–tries to protect him from difficult social situations, aka Mrs Bennet and Mrs Phillips:

Elizabeth did all she could to shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might converse without mortification

(She also refers to her family as “society so little pleasing to either” herself or Darcy, which always makes me laugh at the portrayal of the Bennets as just warm artless proto-Weasleys, especially because even Jane and Bingley can’t stand to live around them for more than a year.)

18) The end! 

And all these ~dark~ ~realistic~ readings where they’re actually miserable together?

With the Gardiners, they were always on the most intimate terms. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, really loved them; and they were both ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing her into Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them.

Happily ever after, y'all.

Comments

[beatrice_otter]

The coffee scene is just so cinematic. You could do SO MUCH with it, it just begs for a live treatment rather than stay on a page ... and yet, you're right, it never makes it in.

[anghraine]

I know, right? It's just bizarre. We get manufactured scenes for extra romance, while leaving out this visceral pining and ... /sigh.