Page 12 of Eavesdroppers Never Hear
She had no idea what to do with the thought. It was nothing she had not heard before but still worthy of some reflection. She thought they forgave their mother and younger sisters for multiple offences nearly every day, but did the lesson apply to her situation? Did she owe forgiveness to the Netherfield party? Conversely, did they deserve forgiveness from her? Did hers and Jane’s rudeness cancel out theirs? Did her desire to defend hersister outweigh the responsibility to act with decorum? She truly had no idea.
Though Elizabeth spent considerable time and attention on that part, it was only a small bit of a much longer sermon. It seemed likely, she was just preoccupied with it because of its applicability to her situation.
Of course, applying the sermon to her daily life was the whole point of attending services in the first place, was it not?
~~~~~
By the time the closing hymn finished, Elizabeth had put all thoughts aside for later reflection when she was in a place where she could not hear Mr Darcy’s (admittedly fine) singing voice. She sheepishly admitted that having his voice joined with hers in song was more disconcerting than it should have been. Looking at Jane and Mary, she saw they both looked calm and collected—but then again, Jane looked calm and collected in the Netherfield parlour, so she could not read too much into it.
As the closing hymn finished, Elizabeth awaited her turn to exit. As one of the leading families, they would leave quickly then endure a half-hour or more of gossip in the churchyard. The weather was warm for that time of year, but it was the middle of November.
Mr Turner paused briefly, which meant he had something to say. Announcements at the end of service were not unheard of. The parish elders occasionally made announcements, the vicar might mention other church activities planned for the week, ordinary folks would occasionally give a few words, or on rare occasions they would call banns. While the assembly was slightly restive, they gave him their full attention since whatever he had to say was unlikely to take long.
Mr Turner spoke in his ordinary preaching voice. “A gentleman has asked to address the congregation, so I request your brief attention.”
He stared down a couple of young boys who were slightly restless, then gestured to the Netherfield pew. “Mr Darcy.”
A murmur went up, but Mr Turner quieted them with a long-suffering look. This was far from his first sermon and the reaction was as expected.
The elder Bennet sisters gasped slightly but then turned their rapt attention forward to see what the man had to say. None of the sisters could think of a single propitious thing a man might say in such a situation, but they could easily produce a dozen possibilities they would not care for. Like it or not, even though they had lived there and attended that church all their lives; he was a very rich man, and his words would command far more respect than his relative time in the county or his behaviour warranted.
Elizabeth found her foot nervously sitting on its toe and tapping its heel until Mary helpfully kicked her shin and Jane took her hand.
The elder sisters both had garnered improved feelings for Reverend Fordyce with their rapprochement with Mary earlier—but he also had much to say that Elizabeth was considerably less enamoured with.
For example, among other ridiculous things, the good reverend suggested: “…A modest and unassuming deportment; a gentle and obliging temper; a discreet and prudent conduct; a scrupulous regard to truth and sincerity; and a circumspect behaviour in all your deportment.”
As the reverend’s words suddenly appeared in Elizabeth’s head, she had to think bearding the lions in their den at Netherfield, followed by riding a tired old nag home, would probably not be considered the least bit circumspect or modest.That little gem had come at the end of one of many of Fordyce’s diatribes on female virtue, probity, and modesty. It pointed out one awful fact of English society. In a contest between Mr Darcy and the Bennet sisters, even in their home county, there was no guarantee they would be the victors. Mr Darcy had not especially hurt their reputations yet, but if he suffered from implacable resentment, he certainly could.
All those thoughts flew by in a flash leaving Elizabeth nervously anticipating whatever foulness the gentleman might spew, but she managed to keep her foot planted on the floor.
Mr Darcy addressed the congregation. “Thank you, Mr Turner. I will be brief.”
The reverend sat as Mr Darcy looked towards the crowd and continued with only a brief pause. He surveyed the entire room, not singling anyone out (much to the Bennet sisters’ relief). He then spoke in a tone that was deep and carrying like a preacher’s while surprisingly soft, to a rapt audience.
“I have belatedly discovered that I have behaved exceedingly poorly since my introduction, and I offer my sincerest apologies to everyone in this society. From the very beginning—from the first moment, I may almost say—of my attendance, I believe my manners should have impressed anyone of sense with the fullest belief of my arrogance, my conceit, and my selfish disdain of the feelings of others. I have said disparaging or unkind things, to or about people who have done me no wrong; or allowed them to be said in my presence without challenge. I have declined introductions and failed to acknowledge people who have shown our party nothing but the greatest kindness. I have left ladies stranded on the edges of a dance floor due to lack of partners, neglecting a very fundamental duty of any gentleman.”
He continued looking over the hall, while the congregation was quiet enough to hear a pin drop and most of the congregantswere either staring with their mouths open or doing the same thing but more decorously.
The elder Bennet sisters were the most shocked of all, but Elizabeth could hardly think, let alone say anything.
Mr Darcy, having only paused for a breath, continued humbly.
“In short, I have not behaved in a gentlemanlike manner. I offer no excuses but simply say that I am truly sorry. It is my fondest hope that you have sufficient kindness in your hearts to allow me to make amends and begin anew.”
Dead silence reigned. It was easy to see the congregation was shocked. Elizabeth would have bet a year’s allowance the man was not capable of such an exhibit, and yet he had done something nobody could assert was anything short of admirable—and extraordinarily brave.
“Thank you,” he said, then he awkwardly returned alone to the Netherfield pew, and stared forward.
“Hear! Hear!” Sir William boomed in his usual jovial manner.
This touched off a general murmur of nervous, surprised appreciation that filled the room; gradually increasing to a low roar as others joined in agreement.Nobody, including the Bennet sisters, had ever seen such a spectacle, and it was impressive, to say the very least.
Mr Turner resumed the pulpit. “Well said, sir. Very well said, indeed.”
He looked around like the excellent showman he was and continued loud enough to silence the murmurs and command everyone’s attention.
“I promise all of you…” he said with a grand gesture to include everyone, then with a laugh and a smile, he continued, “I did not pick the sermon topic as an opening act for the Derbyshire gentleman.”
