Darcy and Elizabeth: The Language of the Fan

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Darcy and Elizabeth: The Language of the Fan Page 3

by Simonsen, Mary Lydon


  “I can just picture the young Elizabeth Bennet dressed in a white smock having tea in the nursery,” Mr. Darcy said out loud. “Being a bit of a tomboy, she would have been very careful so as not to break anything and possibly embarrass Jane, and so she would have waited for one of the Darlington sisters to pour out.”

  Yes, that was true, Lizzy acknowledged. Because I am so clumsy, I rarely poured out. Even so, I was so proud that I never chipped or broke any of the pieces.

  “After such an unfortunate start, what is remarkable is how easily we fell into conversation,” Darcy mused. “I found Elizabeth to be intelligent and witty and that laugh? Who could not help but smile when one hears such music?”

  He equates my laughter to music? How sweet!

  “Something changed up there in the nursery. Was it because we were alone and didn’t have Caroline buzzing about bent on mischief? Or was it because we understood that our uneasy acquaintanceship was due to a series of misunderstandings?”

  The series of misunderstandings you are referring to began at the assembly when you slighted me.

  “For which, I must take the greater share of responsibility.”

  Such a wise man!

  “But was our brief conversation in the nursery enough for us to begin again because I would like to start over. However, nothing can happen here as Caroline is always watching.”

  Lizzy heard the door creak open. “There you are, Darcy,” Charles said. “Hurst and my sisters are keen for a game of cards. Are you interested?”

  “Yes, I was returning the fans to their rightful place and admiring this coffee set. As you said, when we have a brighter day, I should like to examine the Darlington collection. I do believe there are two miniatures of Alexander and Louise of Baden in one of the cabinets. I wonder if the Darlingtons have been introduced to the czar and his wife?”

  As soon as Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley retreated, Lizzy did as well, and when she returned to Jane, she found her sister sitting up in bed eating porridge.

  “Lizzy, where have you been? I was being to think you had eloped with the butler.”

  “Is he handsome and available?”

  “He is ancient and married as you well know,” Jane said, laughing. There was no better medicine for her than her sister’s wit, and Lizzy continued to amuse her sibling as she described her ordeal in the library and being found in the nursery and Mr. Darcy’s conversation with himself in the library.

  “My goodness! I take a nap, and you go on an adventure.”

  “Yes, it was an adventure as well as being quite informative.”

  “Have you changed your mind about the gentleman? Do you like Mr. Darcy now?”

  “I think I do. He is so different from the man at the assembly. It is as if there are two Mr. Darcys.”

  “I agree it is possible that there are two Mr. Darcys as Mr. Bingley told me that he is a different man while amongst his friends, and that for all of his advantages in birth and education, he is uncomfortable in unfamiliar settings.”

  “Well, if he continues to compliment me, then I must assume that I have misjudged him as he is obviously a man who recognizes quality.” Lizzy burst out laughing at her own hubris.

  Resting a fan on the right cheek – Yes

  Resting it on the left cheek – No

  It was but two days after Jane’s returning home that Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy called at Longbourn. From Charles’s behavior, Lizzy believed the gentleman would have come the previous day if he hadn’t anticipated that calling so soon after Jane’s departure would invite comment from, well, everybody.

  By nature, Darcy was more cautious. He had been eager to have another conversation with Elizabeth, but as expected, no opportunity had arisen during the remainder of her stay at Netherfield. Caroline had seen to that.

  During his visit to Longbourn, Darcy fell easily into conversation with Mr. Bennet and brought up his interest in humorous tombstone inscriptions.

  “Whenever I find one that tickles my fancy, I jot it down in my journal,” Mr. Bennet explained. “In addition to those mentioned by Lizzy, one of my favorites is wonderful in its simplicity: ‘I told you I was ill.’ Very clever in my opinion. My wife has decided on her own epitaph: “I always said my feet were killing me, but no one believed me.”

  The laughter of the two gentlemen caused others to inquire as to the topic of their discussion. Once the subject was known, Mary went to her father’s library to retrieve his journal, and the two youngest asked to be allowed to read their favorite inscriptions.

  Lydia: “Jemima Jones was not pleasing to the eye, nor had she any brain. And when she talked, ‘twas through her nose, which gave her friends much pain. But still we feel that she was worth the money that was spent upon the coffin, hearse and stone. The funeral plumes were lent.”

  Kitty: “Here lies Johnny Yeast. Pardon me for not rising.”

  Bingley and Darcy were allowed to peruse the journal and read a number as well, and the reading lent such levity to the evening that all were agreeable to playing charades. When it was Lizzy’s turn, she chose to perform as Emma Hamilton, the wife of the British envoy to Naples. A generation earlier, Mrs. Hamilton’s performances or “attitudes” had been the talk of London society and widely imitated. Using little other than shawls, a tambourine, and fans, the mistress of Admiral Horatio Nelson had successfully recreated classical characters as diverse as Cleopatra and Medea.

  Lizzy chose to act out the Greek myth of Odysseus and the Sirens. However, instead of song, Lizzy used her fan to lure the sailors to their deaths, and it was Mary who guessed correctly. But Darcy, who just a week earlier, had acted out those same signals with Bingley in the Netherfield library, was in a state of confusion. During her performance, he felt as if Elizabeth was speaking directly to him: carrying her fan in her left hand: desirous of acquaintance; closing it to indicate she wished to speak to him; and dropping it, to say they were friends. But how was such a thing possible? Elizabeth had not been in the library during his discussion with Bingley about the language of the fan, so it had to be a coincidence. A very, very odd coincidence. But how could it be anything else?

  Even so, after returning to Netherfield, and as soon as the Hursts and Caroline had retired, Darcy asked his friend for his opinion.

  “Are you implying Miss Elizabeth was in the room while we were waving those fans about?” Bingley asked. “Unless she was lying on the bearskin rug while we were acting like fools, I don’t see how it is possible.”

  “Of course I don’t think she was snaking about on the floor, Bingley, but, honestly, how can it be explained? I am not one for coincidences.”

  “Darcy, you are obviously very taken with the lady. I have never seen you so intrigued by a woman before. So here is my advice to you. You should act as if Miss Elizabeth was sending you signals by fan and call on her.” Bingley was enjoying his role as counselor to his more sophisticated, but confused, friend. “Or if you are uncomfortable in doing that, then come with me to Longbourn. I intend to call on Miss Bennet so often as to be considered a nuisance.”

  “I agree,” Darcy immediately responded, “because I do like the lady, and I do want to know her better, and maybe during one of our conversations, I can mention this coincidence about the fan.”

  “Darcy, are you actually going to admit you and I were practicing with fans? We will look ridiculous, but you more so, because it would be so out of character for you.”

  “I still do not understand what happened,” Darcy said with a sigh, “and although this is going to bother me, I guess I shall have to accept it.”

  Drawing the fan across eyes – I am sorry

  Open and shut – You are cruel

  But Darcy could not accept it. He had been involved in enough flirtations to know when a woman was communicating directly with him, and he had no doubt Elizabeth was signaling that she would be agreeable to his calling on her. So back to the library he went to look for clues.

  The room was better lighte
d than on the day Bingley and he had been using the fans. Even so, if Elizabeth had been in the room, she would have been somewhere near the bookcases in the darkest part of the library. There was only one chair back there, but even in a dark room, he would have seen if someone was sitting in it. The idea of Elizabeth lying on the rug seemed ridiculous, but not necessarily out of the question because there was more than a little bit of mischief in Elizabeth Bennet. And so he sat down on the bearskin rug and saw something protruding from beneath the chair and pulled out the first volume of Much Ado About Nothing. What was a copy of Shakespeare’s comedy doing under a chair? Now he was truly suspicious, and he started to look about him and that is when he saw the outline of the second door.

  He had to practically roll himself into a ball in order to get his six-foot frame through the door, but when he did, he entered a hallway leading to a staircase. He had little doubt the staircase would take him to the nursery.

  So she had overheard their conversation, and she had listened to his apology for his behavior at the assembly and his compliments about her intelligence and wit, which explained why he had received such a warm reception when he spoke to her in the nursery. Oh, and the look on her face when Charles and he had come into the nursery! Innocence itself! It was as planned and staged as anything Emma Hamilton had ever performed. Of course, all of this meant one thing: he had been correct about the fan. She was signaling that she liked him and that she would be receptive to a courtship.

  But he could not possibly begin a courtship with her thinking she had successfully pulled the wool over his eyes. To his mind, not a good beginning at all. Any relationship with such an intelligent lady, and one in possession of a sharp wit and satirical eye, would be challenging enough without her thinking he could be fooled so easily. No, he definitely needed to respond.

  Fanning slowly – I am married

  Fanning fast – I am engaged

  In the days that followed Mr. Darcy’s discovery of the hidden door, he frequently called on Elizabeth at Longbourn, and during their walks to Meryton or while strolling the lanes between the Bennet estate and Netherfield, no mention was made about fans by either Mr. Darcy or Lizzy. Instead, discussions varied from the wars on the Continent to the boycott of sugar grown on plantations worked by slaves. On a less serious note, both learned they preferred Shakespeare’s comedies to his tragedies, Cowper to Byron, Fielding to Richardson, and Italian operas. Although they enjoyed cribbage and backgammon, both favored chess, and they quickly found they enjoyed each other’s company above all others. But Darcy had a little matter of business to take care of before he was ready to signal his intention to ask her for a formal courtship.

  With Caroline and Louisa visiting a relation in the North, Darcy and Bingley invited the ladies to Netherfield so they might share what they knew of the Darlington collection of artifacts from the Orient and West Indies. Lizzy and Jane understood they could easily have got this information from the housekeeper, but they were more than happy to do so.

  After commenting on the ivory, brass, jade, and china housed in the cabinets and the Kashmir scarves draped over the furniture, Darcy mentioned Sir John’s excellent book collection and asked Elizabeth if she had had an opportunity to read any of the volumes.

  “While Jane recuperated, I readily availed myself of the library’s contents,” Lizzy answered.

  “What did you read?” Darcy asked, giving away nothing by his question.

  “Richardson, Scott, Cowper, to name a few.”

  “No Shakespeare?”

  “Yes, I believe I started Much Ado About Nothing, but I didn’t have time to finish it before Jane recovered and we returned home, but then I had already read it several times before.”

  Darcy said no more, and when the servant entered with tea and cake, Lizzy offered to pour out, and when she handed Mr. Darcy his tea, she noticed a copy of Much Ado About Nothing on the table next to him. And the scene in the library on that rainy day popped into her head. She could picture the book clutched to her bosom as she drifted off to sleep on the bearskin rug. It must have fallen on the floor while she dozed, and she had forgotten all about it. Surely, one of the maids had found it, and concluding that someone was reading it, had put it on the table. But that was a week earlier, and she had been in this room twice since that time, and that book was most definitely not there. Lizzy looked up to find Mr. Darcy smiling at her, and after picking up the book, and handing it to her, he said, “I believe you dropped this, Miss Elizabeth. May I suggest that the next time you go through the hidden door you duck.”

  Dropping the fan – We are friends

  Open wide – wait for me

  After a midday meal and a discussion of the many artifacts in Netherfield’s Treasure Room, Mr. Bingley offered to send for the carriage to take the two ladies back to Longbourn, but Lizzy insisted they would walk and had refused every offer by Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy to accompany them. But as soon as the sisters were out of view of Netherfield, the reason why they were walking home soon became apparent.

  “Oh, Mr. Darcy thinks he is so very clever,” Lizzy said in a huff. She was walking so fast that Jane was having difficulty keeping up with her, but this was something her sister did whenever she was agitated.

  “Jane, did you see that look of superiority on his face—that air of victory that surrounded him when he handed me Much Ado About Nothing? Because he had guessed that I overhead his conversation with Mr. Bingley about the fan, he was all puffed up and very pleased with himself. Well, before all is said and done, he will wear a different look.”

  Lizzy was doing a slow burn. All the while Mr. Darcy and she had been out on their walks or talking in the parlor or merely sitting side by side on the sofa, he had been plotting against her. Yes, plotting. She should have guessed that something was afoot by some of his statements. She had thought it very odd that he professed to like Shakespeare’s comedies better than his tragedies. Men liked stories about war and swordplay and blood and gore. But not Mr. Darcy. Oh no, he insisted his favorite play was Much Ado About Nothing! Another clue had been when he had asked her if it was her habit to walk about the house without shoes. Although he had pretended to be concerned she might catch a cold, what he was actually doing was collecting evidence so he might build a case against her!

  “What are you planning?” Jane asked with some alarm. Although all indications were that a courtship was in progress, Mr. Darcy had not specifically asked Lizzy if he could court her. To her mind, the pair was engaged in a most unconventional relationship. Instead of speaking in the language of love, they teased and challenged each other. To date, there was more evidence of a competition than a romance.

  “I am still working on a plan, but I am not about to let Mr. Darcy think the game is over and that he has won it. As he said in the library, relations between a man and a woman are like a game of chess: move, check, and checkmate. He may have me in check, but he has not yet captured my king.”

  “But, Lizzy, he really did win. After your remarkable performance using a fan to act out the siren’s call during charades, he suspected you had overhead his conversation, there being no other explanation. So when he returned to Netherfield, he went looking for evidence and found it. You have to admit you did leave something of a trail behind you: appearing without your shoes in the nursery and a fresh bump on your head—not to mention a complete change in your opinion of the gentleman from the previous day. I would suggest you let it be,” Jane said in a voice indicating her concern. “It is obvious, at least to me, that Mr. Darcy has fallen in love with you. Now, that the matter of the fan is settled, he will proceed with a formal courtship if, and I repeat, if you stop trying to best him at this silly game.”

  “Jane, I beg to differ. This is no game. The courtship is the foundation of a relationship. Mr. Darcy already has the advantage of family, rank, and wealth. Therefore, I must prove that I am his equal in the things that really matter: intelligence and wit.”

  “Lizzy, I hope yo
u know what you are doing because, if you recall, in Homer’s Odyssey, after Odysseus is warned about the sirens, he wisely goes home by a different route, avoiding them altogether. With all of your plotting and planning, you may chase him off.”

  Elizabeth turned to her sister and smiled. “No, I shall not chase him off because after he handed me the book, he whispered in my ear that he wished to call on me. That is what makes all of this possible.”

  Drawing fan across forehead – We are watched

  Carrying in right hand – You are too willing

  Darcy’s amusement at his victory over Elizabeth soon turned to concern. The next day, he had ridden to Longbourn with Bingley, only to be told by Jane that Miss Elizabeth was unable to receive him. He had returned to Netherfield and had written a note to her inquiring after her health, but she had not replied. Surely, she wasn’t angry at him for his little joke?

 

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