by Riana Everly
As he bestowed upon her this radiant smile, Elizabeth realised that she had never before seen him with an expression of such undisguised joy before, and she was struck by the change to his face. Only now did she realise what a handsome man he was. His features, she admitted, had always been fine and more than pleasing to the eye, but it was when he smiled that the solemnity that often overshadowed his face lifted away, revealing a most agreeable visage. She would, she vowed, make him smile more often.
Lizzy began by introducing the topic most dreaded by her student: small talk. He understood the mechanics as a house painter understands the theory involved in mixing pigments. But Elizabeth wished to help him learn the art, so that he might become, if not a Gainsborough of chatter in the salon, at least a creditable imitator.
“You might wish to have one or two topics upon which you can converse lightly,” she suggested. “Something of interest to you, but that also will appeal to your companions. Pray, sir, what are your personal interests, that amuse and occupy your mind when none other is there to disturb you?”
“My interests?” he furrowed his brow. “Why should anybody concern himself with that?”
“We seek not only to pass the time with small talk, but to form some small connexion between the participants in the conversation. By exploring whether you might share some common interests, you can create the illusion of getting to know each other without the risk of exposing your true self. You, sir, are a master at protecting your innermost essence, but without the effort of reaching out to others even with the most superficial of topics, you leave the room with only the impression of your pride and disdain. In short, upon first encounter you seem most disagreeable.”
At this, Darcy started and huffed, “I? Disagreeable? I cannot believe that! I say nothing to offend people! Well, most of the time.” He must have reflected upon his rude words only days before, for he turned a rather alarming shade of red. Then collecting himself, added, “I learned that much, at least, from my governesses and tutors.”
“Sir, you say nothing, and THAT is what offends people!” Lizzy retorted. “You leave people with the impression that you have no interest in engaging them in conversation, that nobody is good enough for you. And I recall a conversation you had with your good friend Mr. Bingley, in which you insulted me most cruelly. ‘Not tolerable enough to tempt me,’ were your exact words, I believe!”
To his credit, Darcy bowed his head in remorse. “You were not intended to hear that. It was all I could think of to say to convince him to leave me in peace. You know how poorly I acquit myself with strangers. Dancing requires conversation, and whilst my feet can execute the steps of the dance, my tongue cannot execute the words I need to make myself an agreeable partner.”
Trying very hard to school her thoughts and her tone of voice, Lizzy agreed rigidly, “That, sir, I can attest to.”
Mr. Darcy may not have been at all adept in deciphering facial expressions, but when he was not hiding behind his protective walls, he was most eloquent in displaying them, and the look of contrition that washed over him was almost enough to bring about Lizzy’s complete forgiveness. “I am most sorry you heard that,” Darcy muttered. “It was not true.”
With a breath to clear her thoughts, Elizabeth returned, “One never knows who hears one’s words. That is why we must always be careful what we say. And, to our topic, it is the reason small talk is of such importance, trivial though it be by nature. It is how we display ourselves to best advantage with strangers, how we replace our impenetrable protective walls with something a bit… friendlier, which will allow those whom we might allow real friendship a safe entrance to our inner essence.”
Darcy pondered these words for a few moments. He had risen, and was pacing the small space of the folly, from one Grecian pillar to the next, as he contemplated this little speech with the determination he might give to one of Sophocles’ orations. “If I understand you, what you are saying is that we suffer through small talk so that we might have a means of selecting those whom we wish to admit as friends and intimates.”
Suppressing a giggle, Elizabeth said, “Well, yes, in a way. You phrase it in a rather mercenary manner, but that is certainly a part of it. We also engage in small talk because it is more polite than staring blankly at people.” Darcy stared blankly at her. Rolling her eyes and taking yet another deep breath, she continued, “And so, let us return to my original question: What are your personal interests? We need a base upon which we can build.”
“Bridges.”
Now it was Lizzy’s turn to look incredulous. “Excuse me?”
“Bridges. I am most fascinated by bridges. I have several bridges on my estate, and I have always been fascinated by them. One tends to take them for granted, but so much knowledge and experience needs be pressed into use in order to construct a bridge that will be safe to carry a burden. There is so much to know and understand: How they are constructed, how long the span should be in comparison to the weight each might bear, how the width affects the equations, and how many supporting structures might be needed. Also, the span over which the bridge is built must be taken into account, whether it be over a dry gorge, or over roughly running water, which might cause the land around the supporting structures to erode. Also, I am fascinated in how the varying properties of different building materials can so alter how long or how wide a bridge might be. Did you know that London was built at the first place along the estuary of the Thames at which the Romans were able to span the river with a bridge? I am also most fascinated in the construction of the Iron Bridge in Shropshire, and I have studied it in great detail with the goal of recreating it across a gorge on my estate. Iron has many remarkable tensile properties, Miss Elizabeth, one of which is…”
Ah, so when the taciturn man was presented with a subject on which he knew much and which he found interesting, he grew most voluble! Like Samuel, Mr. Darcy clearly had some narrow areas of interest which grasped his imagination and which pulled him deep. Samuel had known more about the races and the horses that ran them from reading his father’s newspaper, than most men betting their fortunes on them did, and he could recite from memory the most remarkable details and statistics, from where each horse was raised to what mixture of oats and hay it was fed after a race. Mr. Darcy’s passion was, perhaps, more useful, but likely of little more interest to a casual acquaintance over tea than Samuel’s recitation of the types of horse feed. Elizabeth fought to suppress another giggle.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy!” the lady threw up her hands in supplication. “I am certain this is all most fascinating indeed, but it is truly not a topic for the salon. No, no, this will not do for small talk at all. I’m afraid, sir, we must find you some other interests!”
At length, it was decided that travel and a general interest in new technologies would be suitable topics for the dreaded small talk. Having travelled extensively as a youth, including a trip with his family to the West Indies, Darcy would have a wealth of stories and tidbits that would provide interesting, but not challenging, additions to a light chat. Likewise, and particularly with other gentlemen, technology as a general topic was deemed suitable and most appropriate.
Mr. Darcy, it turned out, was also fascinated with the science of optics and lenses, and had amassed a fair collection of these curiosities, both ancient and modern, and in a variety of sizes and designed for a variety of uses. This collection could form the basis of conversations about science and technology.
“The simple magnifying glass,” he informed her, “is an ancient device, and there are many extant examples from medieval scriptoria, where they enabled the artist monks to create their magnificent illuminations. Eyeglasses, too, are a fascinating invention, because of the need for precise grinding of glass, whilst seeking to minimise or eliminate chromatic aberrations. Other lenses have such great potential in the advances of industry, and parabolic lenses in particular have the unique quality of focussing light most tightly, and can be used to create a flame or to gath
er very dim light and concentrate it enough to render objects visible in the dark. And then there is the remarkable combination of lenses and mirrors, which let us create the telescopes through which we explore the heavens, and microscopes through which we explore the minutiae of our own world.”
Discovering, to no surprise, that he would speak thus for hours, Elizabeth spent much time with her companion in learning how to use these areas of interest in conversation, without bewildering the listener or turning the social discourse into a lecture. Likewise, she guided her student, dissecting normal conversations and discussing where one should add a comment, and how to turn a conversation gently to a new topic, without the change seeming forced or unnatural. They wrote scripts, rewrote them, and practised them, and then practised the same skills without a script, for no one in a drawing room or salon conducts his social affairs from a prescribed set of notes and sentences.
When the colonel was present, Lizzy would command his participation in order to practise a three-way discussion, and on the rare occasion their cousin Anne joined them as well, having been made aware of the furtive lessons at the folly. Anne was indeed often sickly and of a miserable regard, but as on the afternoon of the invitation to tea, she was not an unpleasant companion. Once more Lizzy reflected that she suffered more from her mother’s overbearing demeanour than of any real defect of character. Oh, how far a little kindness could go!
In addition to practising conversations, Elizabeth and Darcy spent much time analysing facial expressions. His own face, once freed of his self-imposed stony demeanour, was eloquent and expressive, and with the help of a hand mirror, he began to identify what he saw with what he felt. Deciphering expressions would always be an analytical exercise to him, Lizzy explained, but one which might become easier with time and practice.
“Your jaw seems tense, and your lips pressed together. Are you clenching your teeth? A small amount, perhaps? Your eyes have narrowed, from the bottom lid more than the top, and your brows are low and your forehead slightly furrowed in the centre.”
“Good, good! And what do you think that suggests?”
“You seem upset, possibly angry.”
“Excellent. Now observe and tell me what you see.”
“Your jaw is more tense, your chin is firm and protruding. Your lips are tightly compressed, forming a line across your face. Are your lips pinched together at the centre? Yes, I believe so. Your nose… your nostrils are flaring ever so slightly and your eyes are narrower still. The furrow between your brows is more pronounced. You are still upset.”
“Observe my body. What do you see?”
“Your shoulders are held tensely and your neck is very upright. Your arms are stiff by your side. There is no ease in your stance. I shall stand by my assertion that you are upset.
“This is not upset, Mr. Darcy, nor slightly angry. This is furious. You would be well advised to observe the differences and learn them again.”
The colonel, who had been observing, now spoke up, “By gum, Miss Bennet, you are a fine actress. My cousin might be blind to the nuances, but I was ready to turn tail and run. You are more terrifying in your fury than the French! I should most wish to hide to escape your wrath! Either that, or drop to my knees and plead forgiveness, no matter that I have nothing of which to feel guilty.”
Elizabeth laughed and explained her family’s enjoyment of acting out scenes from Shakespeare on a winter’s night. Darcy stood and observed, seeming both curious and only somewhat comprehending of the scene.
“Shall we return to our study, Mr. Darcy? Here is my upset face. Observe carefully and then let us see how it compares to the fury of heaven.” She smiled at the colonel. “These exercises may also help you find some peace in crowded places such as assembly rooms, for if you can focus your attention onto people’s expressions, like a game, it may help you to better manage the other stimuli to your senses. And so… upset: observe.”
And thus they continued.
∞∞∞
“Your fingers are twitching slightly. Your mouth forms a straight line, but perhaps your lips turn down slightly at the corners. Your teeth do not seem to be clenched but I believe you are holding them together. You are exhaling rather forcefully, and your eyes are narrow. Your brow is smooth, but it also looks slightly tense.” He paused. “You do not look angry, but I sense dissatisfaction.”
“Good job, Mr. Darcy. Dissatisfied, or rather, exasperated, is the impression I am trying to portray. Shall we try another?”
∞∞∞
“Your face is relaxed, and your body likewise betrays no tension. Your lips curve up marginally in a slight smile, and your eyes are open naturally, neither unusually wide nor narrow. I would like to say you are happy, but your cheeks do not rise up to your inner lower eyelids as I see them do when you are genuinely laughing. I am confused, Miss Elizabeth.”
“You are observing most carefully, sir, and learning well. This is a very pleasant face suggesting polite disinterest. When you see such a regard, most notably the smile that does not shine from the eyes, you may wish to consider changing the topic of conversation.
∞∞∞
“This one perplexes me. Your face seems mostly neutral, although perhaps you are holding your mouth a bit firmly, as if willing it to remain neutral. Your breathing and forehead are unruffled, and yet your lower eyelids have risen slightly, giving your eyes the impression of glinting, as they do when you smile. And yet, your face does not betray a smile. Are you happy?”
“Most definitely, sir, but I do not wish to show it. This is the face of someone who desperately wishes to burst out in laughter, but dares not for embarrassing herself or somebody else in the room. It is barely concealed mirth. You are definitely improving and are a quick study! Observe my genuine, unfeigned and most willingly bestowed smile of pleasure at your progress!”
∞∞∞
“Good morning, Mr. Darcy, how lovely to see you today.”
“And you, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, Miss de Bourgh, how lovely that you were able to join us this fine morning. My, but the weather has been lovely recently, has it not?”
The four were gathered, as usual, under the shade of the folly, with a basket of cakes and a flask of tea at their disposal. It had been Elizabeth’s proposal to replicate the casual conversations at a tea party or informal gathering after a meal. They could begin as themselves, and then perhaps adopt other personae, so as to give Darcy the opportunity to practise his new skills in a number of similar, but different, situations.
“I understand your intentions, Miss Elizabeth,” he had protested when she had first suggested her idea, “but I am already most comfortable in your presence; indeed, I am content and at my greatest ease in your presence. How shall this improve my skills?”
“Every repetition of a skill enhances its strength and efficiency, sir. Consider this the equivalent to practising scales. I know my scales on the keyboard, and yet I rehearse them regardless, so when I am forced to execute them in the course of a difficult sonata, I need not fret over fingering or rapidity. Conversely, should I stumble over the notes in the sonata, I may place the blame on my neglect of practising scales. We shall begin where we are comfortable and reinforce those basic skills. Now, do you prefer scones or jam biscuits when we have our tea?”
And thus the plan was formed and decided.
“The sun is awfully bright today, is it not, Miss de Bourgh?”
“Oh, definitely, Miss Bennet. I always struggle with headaches when the sun beats so strongly. Do you not find the same thing, Mr. Darcy?”
“Anne!” the gentleman retorted, “Since when do you call me Mr. Darcy?”
“Will, we are pretending to be strangers at a tea party. Surely you would not expect a new acquaintance to call you by your Christian name!”
“But Anne… Oh, very well. Yes, Miss de Bourgh,” he rolled his eyes at Elizabeth, who tried to hide a chuckle, “I, too, find that excess sun can give me a headache
.” He glared at Elizabeth who was being only partly successful in her efforts. “Miss Bennet, I know that look. It is barely suppressed mirth. Please stop laughing at me.”
“My apologies, sir. But you have learned much in interpreting facial expressions, and for that you ought to be proud. Please, sir, continue with your conversation with Miss de Bourgh.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Darcy narrowed his eyes, but returned to his dull and insipid conversation about the weather with his cousin Anne. Colonel Fitzwilliam joined in as well, at Anne’s invitation, and Elizabeth pronounced the experiment a success. She then requested the colonel to assume his haughtiest imitation of the aristocracy—an easy task for the son of an earl—so they might continue with some variety in the company, and Anne quickly followed suit with a scathing portrayal of an imperious woman, whom Elizabeth recognised immediately as the woman’s own mother, Lady Catherine.
Not surprisingly, Darcy was quite comfortable with the heightened formalities of these interactions, but seemed to flounder a bit when Elizabeth suggested they continue their tea with members of some of the lower classes.
“Not your servants, sir,” she admonished him, “for them you surely order about and forget that they are people deserving of civility, but perhaps well-heeled merchants, whom you might meet at an assembly, or perhaps at an art exhibit.”
“I, interact socially with tradesmen? Surely you jest! I am always most polite in my dealings with them in matters of business, but surely you do not expect me to pay social calls on shopkeepers and tradesmen!” His voice dripped with scorn, his eyes flashed with the deep cut of the insult.
But Elizabeth was not to be cowed. “Mr. Darcy, I am ashamed of you. Surely you must know that there is as much erudition and understanding among the sons of trade as among the high-born of the realm. These are men and women of elegance and good taste, and many of extremely well educated as well. Your own friend, Mr. Bingley, owes his wealth to trade. And yet you socialise with him most comfortably.”