Swipe Left on Mr. Darcy — Blocked, Page 2
By Suha · Published
Transcript
Panel 1: Seen from inside the warm Bennet front hall, with its patterned runner, coat hooks and console lamp. MRS. BENNET, 52, grey-streaked dark hair, floral blouse and beaded necklace, has just pulled the front door open with one hand on its edge. Her delighted hostess smile is already faltering into confusion. MRS. BENNET: 'Oh! Can I help—' Panel 2: Reverse angle, looking out through the open doorway. MS. DE BOURGH, 62, rigidly upright, silver-grey hair in a smooth pinned chignon, a deep-emerald tailored suit with a large jewelled brooch, stands on the top porch step with both hands folded in front of her, chin lifted, looking down with cold appraisal. Cool daylight behind her against the warm hall. MS. DE BOURGH: 'I am here for Elizabeth Bennet.'
Image description
Mrs. Bennet opens the front door with her welcoming smile faltering; below, a tall, severe silver-haired woman in an emerald suit stands on the porch step announcing she is here for Elizabeth Bennet.
About this chapter
Two days after Jane says yes to Charles, a long black car noses up the flagstone path of the Bennet house and does not belong there. Out of it steps Ms. de Bourgh — Darcy's aunt, the imperious matriarch of the estate where Lizzie once refused him — who has driven all this way on the strength of a rumour: that her nephew is about to be engaged to Elizabeth Bennet. She dismisses the household, marches Lizzie out to the garden, and lays out the case with surgical contempt: the family's disgrace, Lydia's patched-up marriage, a match that was planned for Darcy since he was a boy. Then she asks for a promise — never, under any circumstances, to accept him. Lizzie, who has spent weeks certain she'd already lost him, refuses. Not because she has any claim on him, but because she will not be told whom she's allowed to want. Every threat de Bourgh throws — censure, exile from his world, being despised by everyone connected to him — Lizzie meets and out-argues, until the old woman leaves in cold fury, taking no leave and sending no compliments to her mother. Lizzie stands in the wreckage of the conversation while her mother demands to know who that was, and then, at the kitchen window, watching the car dwindle down the leafy street, the real meaning arrives: nobody drives two hours to forbid a thing that was never going to happen. Somebody told that woman something. Which means Darcy has not, after all, closed the tab on her.