#THE BINGLEYS HAVE LEFT NETHERFIELD

[fluffypotatey]

new episode new thread: what have we learned?

nothing said is kept secret for long (looking at you Lizzy and Mrs Bennet, it is fascinating how similar they are in certain aspects)

Charlotte is the realest bitch

Darcy is the clowniest of clowns

Wickham needs to back the fuck up

all i care about is Jane/Bingley

[bethanydelleman]

Bingley was at fault too.....

Bingley's "modesty" is mostly just the result of Darcy's bad influence on him . Darcy said it himself; Bingley kept relying on him so much because it made life for him easier, he knows that he's impulsive and instead of dealing with his flaws, he just relies on Darcy to check him. He knew Jane loved him and the only effect that Jane acting like a lady should act is simply him not knowing how much she liked him, he knew love was there. And because Darcy thought she did not , he decided that she does not love him after all.

Both Darcy and Bingley are irresponsible; Darcy knew Bingley falls out of love all the time and yet he did not think that Jane might form a serious attachment because of his advances. He only cares about Bingley because it's HIS friend not out of a desire to help others.

Bingley hits on Jane immediately and courts her in front of everyone ; then left her after knowing everyone was expecting marriage ; if he wanted to leave, at least he shouldn't make it seem like he was running away from her, this might affect her reputation . I know he had planned to return but Darcy convinced not to; but he should at least claim an excuse that had nothing to do with Jane so he would not embarass her.

I disagree with most of what you are saying here. I don't think Bingley could have possibly been that confident or known that Jane loved him.

Elizabeth admits that Jane is hard to read and no one would have been entirely sure of her love:

He declared himself to have been totally unsuspicious of her sister’s attachment; and she could not help remembering what Charlotte’s opinion had always been. Neither could she deny the justice of his description of Jane. She felt that Jane’s feelings, though fervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant complacency in her air and manner, not often united with great sensibility.

And also, Jane & Bingley don't spend a ton of time together in the two months that Bingley is at Netherfield. This is not modern dating:

“Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But though Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore make the most of every half hour in which she can command his attention. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling in love as much as she chooses.”

I think you are greatly overestimating how well Bingley would understand Jane's heart. He can't ask if she likes him either, it's all about subtle encouragement. We don't know what Darcy and his sisters said to him, but I can see how someone would be persuaded that Jane didn't actually love him. I think modesty is one of Bingley's strengths, not a fault. And, he's also not as persuadable as people sometimes say, we see him stand up to both his sisters and Darcy.

Mrs. Bennet said that Jane was ill-used, but she doesn't suffer any reputation damage. Mrs. Gardiner basically says, "These things happen" and moves on. We have no evidence at all that it hurt Jane in any way except emotionally. Also, Bingley & Jane don't act like Marianne & Willoughby or Wentworth & Louisa, we do not hear that everyone who saw them expected an engagement. It did not go that far. It was a fervent hope, not an honour-bound expectation. It was also a lot of Mrs. Bennet telling everyone that it would happen.

Darcy was wrong, but after the Bennets' display of vulgarity at the ball, he thought he was doing the right thing for his friend. Was he biased? Yes, the narrator tells us so, but that doesn't mean he was irresponsible. If Bingley hadn't been truly in love, he would have been doing the right thing.

That said, both Bingley and Darcy do have flaws, but Bingley is young and being impulsive when you're 23 and filthy rich isn't that bad. Darcy protecting his friend isn't a flaw, though his reasoning wasn't without bias. And I'm sure he does often have a good influence on Bingley.

[anghraine]

So, in the post about Elizabeth accepting Wickham's tale, I mentioned Elizabeth's remarkable degree of confidence in her judgment of others.

Elizabeth will listen to Charlotte outline her entire unsentimental philosophy of marriage and say, "You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself."

Or she'll listen to Bingley talking about how he's not planning on leaving Netherfield, but if he did, it would be very sudden because he makes all his decisions suddenly. They haven't known each other long at that point, but she responds, "That is exactly what I should have supposed of you" and adds, "I understand you perfectly."

Several weeks later, Charlotte has carried out her philosophy in her engagement to Mr Collins, and Bingley has abruptly left Netherfield.

Elizabeth:

But! Elizabeth and Darcy both say and think these kinds of overconfident things with zero self-consciousness.

Like, here's Darcy:

"But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule." "Such as vanity and pride." "Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind—pride will be always under good regulation."

Uh huh.

That I was desirous of believing her [Jane] indifferent is certain; but I will venture to say that my investigations and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears. I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I believed it on impartial conviction

Sure, Jan.

There are plenty more examples on both sides, but honestly, I find it deeply endearing as well as funny. There are ways in which they're right to be sure of themselves, and I respect them for those and for being rooted in their convictions there, but sometimes it's just ... aww, you're so very wrong and so sure you are right. <3

[onevolon]

my love for you is infinite - part2

Santiago Garcia x afab!reader(Darcy)

note: pride and prejudice (2005) but with triple frontier boys because why not lol

word count: 1226

warnings: in this au there is no social contract for sexuality and gender hehehehee

you can also read it on ao3

part1 - part3 - masterlist

“I can't breathe. How am I going to dance all night if I can't breathe?”

“My toes hurt already.” Ben and William were bickering.

Santiago and Francisco are a little apart from their family.

“Well, if every man in this room does not end the evening in love with you then I am no judge of beauty, Frankie.”

“Or men.”

“Oh, they are far too easy to judge.”

“They are not all bad.”

“Humorless poppycocks, in my limited experience.”

“One of these days, Santiago, someone will catch your eye and then you'll have to watch your tongue.”

He stops speaking and stares. A dazzling group enters the room: George Bingley, his sister Caroline, and finally, Miss Y/N Darcy. All dressed in the highest modes.

The music and dancing stops as the local people turn and stare. The newcomers - creatures from another world - make quite a stir. Darcy surveys the hall. She catches Santiago's eye and stares, with a kind of surprised shock.

Caroline Bingley turns to Darcy.

“Oh dear, we are a long way from Grosvenor Square, are we not, Miss Darcy?”

People hurry to greet the new arrivals. One of them leads them down the center of the dance floor towards the best seats in the room, stopping occasionally to introduce them to various parties.

Santiago's great friend Charlotte Lucas comes to Santiago's side.

“So which of the painted peacocks is our Mr Bingley?”

“He is on the right, and on the left is his sister.”

“And the person with the quizzical brow?”

“That is his good friend, Miss Darcy.”

“She looks miserable, poor soul.”

“Miserable she may be, but poor she most certainly is not.”

“TeIl me.”

“Ten thousand a year and she owns half of Derbyshire.”

“The miserable half?”

They share a complicit giggle.

Sir William Lucas arrives with Darcy and the Bingley's to introduce his daughter Charlotte and the Bennet family. Behind them the music and dancing re-start where they left off.

“My eldest daughter you know, Mrs. Bennet, Francisco, Santiago and Tom Bennet.”

“It is a pleasure. I have two others but they are already dancing.” Mrs. Bennet says.

Mr. Bingley was transfixed by Francisco and gazes openly at him but manages to say “Delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“And may I introduce Miss Darcy. - of Pemberley, in Derbyshire!”

A stiff bow from Darcy, Santiago smiles, Darcy does not.

Moments later. Santiago is standing in a small group with Francisco, Bingley, Miss Bingley and Darcy.

“How do you like it here in Hertfordshire, Mr Bingley?” Francisco asks.

Smiling at Francisco shyly “Very much.” He answers.

“The library at Netherfield, I've heard, is one of the finest in the country.” Santiago adds.

“Yes, it fills me with guilt.” He looks at Francisco and a little blush starts around his collar.

“Not a good reader, you see. I prefer being out of doors. I mean, I can read, of course and, and I'm not suggesting you can't read outdoors - of course”

“I wish I read more, but there always seems so many other things to do.” Francisco says.

“That's exactly what I meant.”

He beams at Francisco, gratefully.

The first dance ends. Ben and William rush past in a state of high excitement.

“Mama! You will never ever ever ever believe what I'm about to tell you! “Ben exclaims.

“You've decided to take the veil?”

Ben ignores him.

“Tell me quickly, my love.”

Ben, shrieking “The regiment are coming!”

Mrs. Bennet shrieks too. Mr. Bennet winces.

“They're to be stationed the whole winter! Stationed in the village, just right there!” William adds.

Now all three Bennet family shriek and Ben actually jumps up and down.

“Officers! Officers as far as the eye can see!”

“How will we meet them?”

“It's easy. You just walk up and down in front of them and drop something.”

Ben pantomimes the actions for William.

“They pick it up. You say 'Oh thank you sir' and blush prettily and then you're introduced!”

Couples begin to form for the next dance. Mr Bingley turns to Francisco.

“May I have the honor?”

They leave to dance. Santiago addresses Miss Darcy as much to distract her from his family as for any other reason.

“Do you dance Miss Darcy?

“Not if I can help it.”

Santiago, Darcy and Miss Bingley stand in uncompanionable silence.

On the dance floor Mr. Bingley, with pink ears, was dancing with Francisco. Mrs. Bennet, with a group of other mothers, watches the young couple with rather too obvious a satisfaction.

“That dress becomes his does it not. Though of course my Francisco needs little help from couturiers.”

Santiago wanders through the throng. He looks at Bingley and Francisco dancing - Francisco is calm and demure, Bingley clearly smitten.

Later. Darcy is joined by an exhilarated Bingley.

“Upon my word I've never seen so many pretty men in my life.”

“You are dancing with the only handsome one in the room.”

“Oh, he is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld, but his brother Santiago is very agreeable.”

They have stopped at the edge of the dance floor but have not seen Santiago and Charlotte who were hiding behind a pillar. Santiago starts to smile.

“Perfectly tolerable, I dare say, but not handsome enough to tempt me.”

Santiago stops smiling.

“You had better return to your partner and enjoy his smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

Bingley goes off.

“Count your blessings, Santiago. If she liked you, you'd have to talk to her.

“Precisely. As it is, I would not dance with her for all of Derbyshire, let alone the miserable half.”

Charlotte smiles at her friend, but sees nonetheless that Santiago is stung.

Later, Bingley politely dancing with Charlotte. As he does so, he catches sight of Francisco dancing with somebody else. With a look of pure longing, he looks around to distract himself and notices Santiago too is dancing.

Ben and William are exuberantly dancing too, laughing and chatting. Darcy stands watching, a look of infinitely superior boredom on his fine features.

After, Bingley is standing with Francisco, Santiago, Mrs. Bennet and Darcy.

“Your friend Miss Lucas is a most amusing young woman.” Mr Bingley says to Santiago.

“Yes! I adore her.”

“It is a pity she is not more handsome.”

“Mama!”

“But Santiago will never admit she is plain. Of course, it is my Francisco who is considered the beauty of the county.”

“Oh! Mama, please!”

“When he was only fifteen there was a gentleman so much in love with him that I was sure he would make him an offer. However, he did write him some very pretty verses.”

“And that put paid to it. I wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?” Santiago adds impatiently.

“I thought that poetry was the food of love.” Mrs. Darcy says.

“Of a fine, stout love it may. But if it is only a vague inclination, I am convinced that one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead.”

Darcy looks at Santiago with a glimmering of interest.

“So what do you recommend, to encourage affection?”

Santiago turns and looks at Darcy square on.

“Dancing. Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.”

He gives her a dazzling smile. Darcy looks startled. She had no idea he heard her. Now it was her turn to blush.

[arcturusreads]

Traditions

pairing: elizabeth bennet & fitzwilliam darcy word count: 1165 words request: yes/no prompt/summary:  the newly married darcy couple decide to spend their first christmas together... at Longbourn a/n: it's december and all i want is christmas fluff

“William, are you sure you want to do this?” Elizabeth whispered, hoping not to wake her sister-in-law who was asleep opposite them.

“We spent Christmas at Pemberley with the promise that we’d would come to Longbourn for Christmas. We’re only twenty minutes away, there’s no backing out now.” He gave his wife’s hand a gentle squeeze where it was resting on the carriage seat. “Plus, Jane and Bingley are going to be there and I’m sure you won’t want to miss them.”

Sighing, Elizabeth relaxed back into her seat. Fitzwilliam had a point, she was longing to see Jane. When the Bingleys had decided to open Netherfield over winter, they’d also made the decision to spend Christmas with the Bennet’s.

“At least we’ll be staying with them instead of my family,” Elizabeth muttered to herself as she gazed out of the carriage window.

Darcy shook his head with a small smile. “Have heart, Elizabeth. It’ll only be two days and then we’ll be in London for the New Year.”

“Mr Darcy! Miss Darcy! It’s such an honour to host you at Longbourn and much overdue, don’t you think?” The Bennet clan had been waiting outside of the house when the Darcy carriage had come to a stop. “I’ve written to Lizzie on multiple occasions telling her that the three of you simply must come and visit.”

Elizabeth could feel her cheeks start to redden as she knew her mother was about to admonish her in front of her husband and sister-in-law.

“Yes, Elizabeth had told me. I hope she passed on my apologises, my duties at Pemberley have rather taken over a lot of my time. We haven’t had a chance to make it here before now.”

The tension in her shoulders began to ease as Fitzwilliam stepped in and saved her from any further embarrassment. Thankfully Jane had already arrived with Charles and Elizabeth soon turned her attention to the married couple, pulling Georgiana along with her and away from anymore of her mother’s questions.

“Such a shame that Lydia and Mr Wickham weren’t able to come.”

After ten minutes of greetings outside, Mrs Bennet had finally relented and allowed to family to go indoors and take shelter from the greying clouds. They were sat around the living area, Mary sat at her piano whilst Kitty tried to convince her that there was no need to play anything right now and they should really be opening presents.

Georgiana had taken a seat next to Elizabeth. She was still rather shy around everyone else and other than her sister-in-law and brother, the only other people she felt somewhat comfortable with was Jane and Charles.

Elizabeth felt Georgiana stiffen beside her as Wickham was mentioned. The only reason that the Darcy’s had agreed to coming to Longbourn was because they knew that Lydia and Wickham weren’t able to come. Not wanting Georgiana to feel any more uncomfortable, Elizabeth tried to change the subject.

“Shall we open some gifts? Mr Darcy and I got something from London for you Mamma.”

That immediately perked up Mrs Bennet who soon forgot about her youngest daughter not joining them for Christmas. The next half on hour was filled with screams of laughter from the younger two Bennets, Mr Bennet grumbling and complaining in his armchair and Mrs Bennet having to do a running commentary on the gifts her two eldest daughters had bought her and how lucky they were to be married so well.

The five guests had taken a more subdued approach. In their letters, both Jane and Elizabeth had agreed that it would be best for them all to open their gifts at Netherfield when they left that evening. They would have more time to chat and enjoy their gifts without their mother or sisters trying to find out what the present was before it was even unwrapped.

Dinner was yet another loud affair. Bennet dinners were something that Elizabeth knew how to manage well. The noise, laughter and yelling across the table did not make her bat an eyelid and knowing looks shared with Jane helped her to get through it. She felt for her husband though and worried about his discomfort. On Fitzwilliam’s part, he acted as though none of it bothered him. He entertained her mother- and sister-in-laws with all the charm he could muster but Elizabeth could tell that the noise and company was starting to get to him. Early on in their marriage she had learnt that Fitzwilliam could only deal with large group of people and a lot of noise for only a small amount of time before he began to find it too much and longed to retreat to the peace of Pemberley.

After dinner proved to be no respite either. Mary was determined to practice the new music that The Darcy’s had gifted her. As Elizabeth tried to surpress a wince at the attempt she knew that it was partly her own fault for giving the gift but at least she knew that Mary was happy with it if nothing else. Eventually, Mary stepped away and asked Georgiana to grace them with a song. Not one to enjoy the limelight, Georgiana asked Mary to join her in playing a duet which the entire household had found much more palatable.  Kitty had pulled Jane and Charles to dance with her as the music played. With Mr Bennet falling asleep in his armchair and Mrs Bennet clapping along to the song, Elizabeth took the opportunity to stand next to her husband.

“Would you like to leave soon?” she asked, grazing her fingers against his.

Fitzwilliam looked down at her, a gentle smile on his face. She couldn’t help but note how exhausted her looked. They’d been up since the wee hours of the morning in order to get to Longbourn in good time and having to be social for such an extended period of time was bound to tire him. And yet, Fitzwilliam still shook his head.

“You haven’t seen your family in a long time, enjoy this time with them. I’ll be fine.”

Elizabeth didn’t have much time to argue and Kitty tugged on her arm, pulling her in to enjoy the festivities.

It was eleven o’clock before the Darcys and Bingleys had left Longbourn and past two in the morning until they had all gone to bed after exchanging presents and sharing stories. There was no question that Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam were going to share a bed, they hadn’t slept separately since the day they had gotten married. Finally curled up under the blanket, with her head resting against her husband’s chest, the couple felt like they could finally, fully relax.

“Maybe next year we stay at Pemberley?” Fitzwilliam suggested, running his hand through Elizabeth’s hair.

She hummed in response, closing her eyes. “Easter at Longbourn is a much less rambunctious gathering.”

“Are you sure you won’t mind?”

“Not at all. I think it’s time we start our own traditions.”

[itscarolinebingley]

"Diary of a Refined Heart: Caroline Bingley's Musings on Love and Society"

Dear Diary,

I find myself seated in the luxurious drawing room of Netherfield, surrounded by the opulence and grandeur that befits our esteemed family. As I take in the exquisite surroundings, my eyes are suddenly captivated by the entrance of none other than Elizabeth Bennet. Her presence, though unexpected, immediately caused a stir among the guests, drawing attention to herself with an air of nonchalance that both intrigued and vexed me.

Elizabeth, that impertinent and spirited young woman, dared to challenge the very notion of what it means to be an accomplished lady. She engaged my dear brother and Mr. Darcy in a lively discussion, questioning the traditional understanding of accomplishments. Her audacity! I, Caroline Bingley, who have spent countless hours refining my skills in music, art, and conversation, was left astounded by her dismissal of these pursuits as shallow and superficial. It is a most vexing experience when one's firmly held beliefs are so openly questioned by someone who has no idea on being an accomplished woman, as her appearance showed my dear brother, Mr. Darcy and myself today.

In my attempt to catch the eye of Mr. Darcy, the object of my affections, I paced back and forth in the room, hoping to draw his attention away from Elizabeth's impertinence. I longed for him to see me as a refined and captivating woman, one who possesses the qualities that align with his discerning taste. Elizabeth, on the other hand, lacks the refinement and sophistication necessary to be considered truly accomplished.

Yours faithfully, Caroline Bingley

[birlwrites]

thoughts: rosewater pride and prejudice au with a side of barty/sirius for fun. barty is jane, evan is elizabeth, regulus is darcy, and sirius is bingley.

i am SCREECHING over barty and sirius as jane and bingley. love at first sight dance taking an instantaneous, simultaneous dislike to the same person and working together to make their life hell for the entire duration of this ball

regulus is standing awkwardly in the corner watching sirius subtly wreak havoc and calculating how many people he's going to have to send formal apology letters to

finally sirius leaves the dance floor and regulus goes to catch up with him so he can be like 'please stop talking to this guy you encourage each other way too much and i do not want to burn this ballroom to the ground tonight' and then he's THOROUGHLY caught off guard when it turns out that sirius has in fact left the dance floor to be introduced to Random Guy's various siblings and there is Conversation happening with Strangers

meanwhile evan has also been watching sirius and barty but he's been DEEPLY entertained by it all and then regulus shows up with his Palpable Distaste For All This Nonsense which is enough to ensure that their first interaction goes rather poorly tbh

sirius in the carriage on the way back home: i'm in love with him

regulus: WHAT? NO. NO YOU CAN'T BE. I REFUSE

sirius, louder: I'M GOING TO INVITE HIM OVER FOR LUNCH

regulus: DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE WE ARE *RENTING* THAT HOUSE

anyway that's how barty ends up getting sick from going over to netherfield in the rain and he's Definitely not as sick as he's pretending to be but he's over there for long enough that evan decides to go check on him and perhaps Remind him that it's a little Early to be moving in

evan shows up and regulus has completely and fully lost track of both barty and sirius (they're on the grounds somewhere even though barty is supposed to be RESTING) but he would rather die than admit that to barty's brother who he had a very awkward interaction with recently

so regulus is racking his brain looking for non-suspicious ways to keep evan busy while the servants track barty down and he's like 'uhhhh he's been feeling much better i'll send someone to fetch him down from his room he'll be here shortly' and evan is like '....ok?' and they sit in silence for a while before the Very Awkward Small Talk begins and then like five minutes pass and evan is like '.......will barty be here soon' and regulus is like 'Definitely I Am Sure Of It. Are You Fond Of. Um. Weather' and evan is like '......................what'

eventually barty and sirius do show up and regulus and evan both take the first opportunity to corner their respective brothers and go 'how could you *do this to me* you *left me alone with him* it was *so awkward*'

regulus would totally propose in a gazebo in the middle of a storm. just for the drama. and evan would tear him to SHREDS

regulus returns to rosings (i know bingley isn't there in p&p but SIRIUS IS) both dejected and absolutely soaking wet and sirius is like 'what the fuck happened to you' and regulus is like 'HE HATES ME' and sirius is like ?????????

idk who wickham would be though

[fictionadventurer]

A Guide to the Cities of the Powers and Prejudice Universe

Netherfield

City within a temperate zone on a river (think St. Louis/Metropolis)

Very Art Deco Golden Age vibes

Has a very high superhuman presence with a diverse array of abilities and is the most tolerant of superhumans

Superhumans who want to live relatively openly among their own kind within a vibrant community tend to flock to Netherfield. This does mean that there's a lot of conflict, both within the community and between regular people and superhumans who use their abilities for criminal purposes

Longstanding tradition of costumed superheroes, drawing from old traditions of circus performers and professional wrestling. Vibrantly-colored costumes and masks are common and respected parts of the culture.

Superhumans are allowed to live openly and use their powers at will. However, if these powers disturb the peace, they will be held responsible for any damages caused. Costumed superheroes are responsible for working with the criminal justice system to bring the criminals to justice.

Use of superhuman powers is limited for those living a civilian life. Regular people, while more tolerant in Netherfield than most places, can be suspicious of superhumans, and in not-so-distant history, people with abilities that were too powerful/dangerous were commonly taken for study and/or punishment by the authorities, so most superhumans are very cautious in how they use their gifts.

Those who want more freedom to use their abilities to the fullest extent tend to put on a mask and take up superhero work, and secret identities are common and accepted. However, an independent vigilante risks being mistaken for a villain, so the safest way to take up superhero work is to get involved with one of the established superhero teams.

Growing discontent among younger superhumans has led to a worrying growth in exceptionalist philosophy that believes superhumans are superior to ordinary people and have a right to seize power. This means more superhumans attacking regular people, more work for the costumed superheroes, more battles in the streets, and more distrust from regular people, which means that there's also growing interest in other strategies/policies to subdue/restrict superhumans.

Home city of: the Bennets, the Bingleys, Admiral and Mrs. Crawford, Frederick Wentworth

Pemberley

Much denser metropolis that historically was neglected by inept/corrupt government and overrun by superhuman organized crime rings.

Attempts to restrict superhuman abilities only led to young superhumans being recruited en masse into the organized crime organizations, convinced that the government was their enemy

City was a crime-ridden wasteland until a couple of decades ago, when a masked vigilante known as the Archer began bringing superhuman criminals to justice, and the De Bourgh family began fighting corruption within the government and police ranks

Improvements to infrastructure have made Pemberley into a vibrant, livable city known for its beautiful green spaces

Had a period of unrest a few years ago when it seemed as though the Archer had left the scene, but a new man (widely believed to be the son and/or the sidekick of the original) has taken on the mantle and continued his predecessor's work.

New gangs are arising to challenge this new Archer, leading to bolder attacks than there have been since before the reforms

Catherine De Bourgh was recently elected mayor, on a platform that promised greater surveillance of superhumans and restrictions on their freedoms. Her nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy, is rumored to share her anti-superhuman views--especially after attacks that left his cousin and sister heavily injured--but has largely stayed out of the public spotlight.

Home city of: the Darcys, the De Bourghs, George Wickham, the Gardiners

Northanger

As the name implies, the northern-most city within this setting. Sits on a large lake.

Known for its university, including research into superhuman issues

Superhumans believe themselves to be superior, but keep their culture almost entirely separate from ordinary people.

Several prominent superhuman families have high levels of power, wealth, and influence. These families hold sway over the other superhumans of the city; any who cause trouble are neutralized and punished by those within the superhuman community. The Netherfield model of costumed superheroism is held in high disdain, as something incredibly gauche that degrades their community by putting their conflicts on display.

City is thus largely peaceful, but the social hierarchy is stifling. The upper echelons are extremely insular and social climbing is a near impossibility. Fraternization between superhumans and regular people is highly frowned upon.

Within the upper-class superhuman families, powers are passed down strongly along family lines, with almost every member of a family sharing the same kind of ability.

Home city of: the Elliots, the Tilneys, the Crawfords, the Ferrars

Highbury

Small Midwestern plains city. Surrounded by farmland.

Has an abnormally high concentration of superhumans for a city of its size, thanks to the presence of the Mansfield Institute for Young Superhumans. Education there can be a status symbol among elite superhumans, but the school also provides guidance for students from otherwise normal families who are struggling with superhuman abilities.

Crime is mostly controlled by the regular police department, with assistance as needed from superhumans both within and outside the police department, thanks to Police Chief Knightley's good relationship with Highbury's superhuman community.

Mild outbreaks of Netherfield-style costumed superheroism/villainy, mostly among excitable youngsters from the Institute.

Mansfield's headmaster is a decent man, but is out-of-touch with what's happening in his own school, leaving things largely under the supervision of a few highly-ranked instructors who seem to be encouraging some troubling behaviors that are causing increased social stratification--and related bullying--among the students.

Home to: Almost every character from Mansfield Park and Emma.

[luckydragon10]

P&P Chapters 9 and 10

(Chapters 7 and 8)

Not much changed in the point bracket last time:

Lizzy made a slight increase to +30

Mr. Darcy, while showing tentative signs of improvement, continues to wallow in his -15

Chapter 9

Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately,

Is anyone ever going to shake Mrs. Bennet? Really rattle her teeth? I would like that very much.

Mrs. Bennet: "...I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease.”

I volunteer to shake her.

Lizzy: “That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.”

Woah woah woah, Lizzy, what did Mr. Bingley do you to? Are you mad at him because his sister is a bitch? Cool your heels while I remove 5 points from your score.

Mrs. Bennet needs to shut her mouth about Charlotte. I'm picturing Lizzy fuming in the meantime.

“I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love,” said Darcy. “Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”

I feel like I've seen this quoted before. Seems vaguely familiar.

Lydia seems all too happy to ensure that all the balls to be hosted by everyone else are in order. 🤣

~~~

Chapter 10

Miss Bingley is unable to take a hint, I think. Reminds me of a yappy little dog.

Then Mr. Darcy yammering at Bingley about the quality of writing and self-complp. What is going on with this chapter?!

“Nay,” cried Bingley, “this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning.

Okay, that's brilliant. You're pretty hopeless, but what a great line.

Darcy: *says absolutely anything* Lizzy: I will fight you!

Meanwhile the two of them have completely taken over the conversation from anyone else in the room. 🤣

“By all means,” cried Bingley; “let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of.

Horrible pun. I like you.

She could only imagine, however, at last, that she drew his notice because there was a something about her more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. 

Um, no, Lizzy, he's really hot to trot. Down bad. Feeling the fire.

Lizzy: “Oh!” said she, “I heard you before; but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’ that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all—and now despise me if you dare.”

Mr. Darcy, you have no one but yourself to blame here, bucko. She has mistaken your horny for contempt, and that's on you.

Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness, and immediately said,— “This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue.”

Immediate +5 for you, sir. Maybe you'll dig yourself out of that hole yet?

Very little movement on the scoreboard today.

(Chapters 11 and 12)

[regencyslxt]

Time Will Tell

1225 words.

Mr Darcy x Bennet!reader

Imagine meeting Mr Darcy for the first time and him being lost for words.

Public balls were never an enjoyment for Fitzwilliam Darcy, and although he did not physically cling to Mr Bingley there was always that sense of dread and anxiety when he would leave to dance with one of the many beautiful ladies in the room. He wouldn’t ever outwardly admit that he found the women he was introduced to attractive; his rough demeanour would not allow it. Which is why when Charles brought you and your sister over to his secluded circle, he found himself providing short answers and showing very little interest to try and scare you away.

Your sister Jane was enamoured by Mr Bingley as soon as they laid eyes on one another, and quite frankly it frightened you. How could a person have so much adoration for another in such a short time? You did not believe in love at first sight, instead you believe that love develops over time, no matter how slow or fast, it takes more than just a single instance.

When Jane made her way towards you after her 2nd or maybe 3rd dance with Mr Bingley that evening, you couldn’t help but notice a certain look in her eye. It was much like the look your mother gets when she hears ‘single’, ‘wealthy’ and ‘man’ in the same sentence and this alone causes your stomach to twist in fear.

Your hands grew clammy as you noticed the direction Jane was dragging you. You made eye contact with Mr Bingley as you approached him and his two companions for the evening and sent a gentle smile his way. He introduced you to his sister Caroline, who did nothing to hide her disdain for you as she looked you up and down. Mr Darcy however was in awe. Not many people could force him into silence however, he feared that anything he said would make him look like a fool in front of you. That was not a chance he was willing to take, so instead he opted for the safer option and nodded his head towards you with a polite, “Miss Bennet.”

His voice was soothing, not too deep to the point it became unnerving but not quite high enough to be deemed unmasculine either. His acknowledgement of you was one of the only moments you managed to hear it as he did his best to end the conversation as quickly as possible. It was only when your other sister Elizabeth joined you that it was made clear he was not one for enjoying other’s company, especially when he did not know half of the people around him. Elizabeth’s arrival caused the previous chatter, despite their being very little, to cease.

…..

Both of your sisters shared very different opinions about the company you had shared earlier that evening with Jane being utterly smitten by Mr Bingley and Elizabeth expresses how she found Mr Darcy pompous and arrogant. It did not take long before you were growing annoyed at your sister’s lack of filter regarding her thoughts.

“Elizabeth, could you be a dear and fetch me a lemonade? I would go myself but my feet are killing me from all the dancing…”

She glances at you seemingly unconvinced but nonetheless she makes her way towards the refreshments table leaving you and Jane alone. As you chatted amongst yourselves, you could not help but eavesdrop on the conversation between the two gentlemen barely 10 feet away. Thankful that they had not noticed either of you.

“Come on Darcy, you cannot tell me not one lady has caught your eye this evening.”

“I’m afraid you seemed to be dancing with the only pretty woman here.”

You look at Jane as she sips her drink entranced by the music playing in the hall, blissfully unaware of the ache your heart seems to be suffering.

“Oh please, what about her sister Elizabeth she is rather pleasing, no?”

“She is pleasing, but not nearly handsome enough to tempt me.”

“What about Y/N? She is a timid thing but very beautiful no doubt.”

He stayed silent. An unnoticeable blush spreading beneath his collar.

You suddenly choked on your drink causing them to both turn your way as Jane patted your back. You took that as a sign to leave, too embarrassed to spare a glance their way. As you rushed towards the exit, gloves and purse in hand, you could not help the tears that made their way to your eyes. Never have you humiliated yourself as much as you did just then. It left an awful feeling in your stomach one you could not seem to shake and one that only got worse when you heard a voice calling out for you.

“Miss Bennet! Miss Bennet wait!”

You hastily wiped the tears that had fallen and turned towards the voice. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the sight of Mr Darcy rushing towards you.

“Mr Darcy.” You nod.

“I believe I owe you an apology sir. I had not meant to be so rude.”

“No, you do not owe me anything. However, I do owe you an explanation of some sorts.”

“For what? You have done nothing wrong.”

“I do not want you to think my silence was one of distaste. It was merely just a moment in which I was too caught up remembering the honour I had of being in your company this evening. For you Miss Y/N Bennet have been one of the very few reasons I have enjoyed tonight.”

Your words seem to betray you as you are left silently gazing at the man before you. The blush in his neck spreading towards the tips of his ears causing you to smile.

“I do not know what to say.”

“Then say nothing. Just accept my invitation for you and your sister Jane to join myself and Mr Bingley for tea tomorrow at Netherfield. I am sure he will be the most enthused to see your sister.”

“Very well then, I accept.”

“Fantastic. Now, if you do not mind, I would like to accompany you back inside for it is becoming rather chilly and I fear your gloves will be less than useful at fighting the cold.”

He offers you his arm as you both make your way inside. The warmth eases the nipping of your fingers and you begin in the direction of Jane who has struck up yet another conversation with the Bingley siblings.

“Oh Y/N,” she speaks softly as she notices you. She grasps your hands and pulls you towards her.

“Are you alright?”

“I am fine sister.” You chuckle.

“I was just asking Miss Bennet here, if the both of you would be willing to join Mr Bingley and I for tea tomorrow afternoon.”

“What a great idea Darcy.” Bingley expresses as his smile widens.

“It would be our pleasure Mr Darcy.” Jane adds and smirks at you.

…..

As the clock strikes 10, you and your sister bid farewell to both Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley as well as Miss Bingley and make your way towards the rest of your family. You collect your shawl from your mother whose inquiries about your conversation with Mr Darcy go unentertained. You all head towards the carriages and the journey home is filled with thoughts of the one man whose heart you hope time brings you.  

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

@sicktember​ Prompt # 8: Contagious

Title: Unexpected Developments 

Fandom: Pride and Prejudice

Prompt inspired by @chezsnez ​. The prompt: “What if in P&P when Jane gets sick at Netherfield, the other guests catch her cold and Lizzie ends up having to take care of Darcy. Kinda like enemies to lovers but with enemies to caretaker.” Thank you as always for the wonderful ideas, my friend!

Jane Bennett’s cold has spread to all the guests at Netherfield, hitting some worse than others. How will Lizzie respond when she finds proud, arrogant Mr. Darcy sneezing miserably and running a fever?

Elizabeth stepped out into the hall, closing the door on Jane's sickroom behind her. Jane was lying down to rest, so Lizzie was left to her own devices for the next hour or two. With no obligation to visit with the rest of the guests today, she had decided to wander a bit to stretch her legs and familiarize herself with more of Netherfield. As she walked, she let her mind wander as idly as her feet.

"We're certain to never be asked back here again," Lizzie sighed to herself after a bit. While Lizzie herself didn't much care, Jane and her mother would be devastated.

The cold Jane had caught on her ill-fated horseback ride to Netherfield had proved to be very contagious. Charles and Caroline Bingley had succumbed to it quickly. At luncheon the day after Elizabeth arrived to care for her sister, the siblings were seen to have dark circles under their eyes, with nostrils tinged a raw-looking pink. Caroline was forced to press a handkerchief to her dripping nose more than once through the course of the meal, while Charles kept painfully coughing into his. Caroline retired immediately after the meal, complaining of a headache and did not return. Charles sent his apologies down just before supper, saying he too had taken ill and would be staying in his room. Walking past Caroline's door later while checking on Jane, Lizzie heard her sneezing so miserably that  Eliza felt a touch of sympathy for the unpleasant woman.

Mr. Darcy had been the one to carry the news of Bingley's illness to the rest of the party, but Elizabeth had hardly seen him since. She gathered he was either passing the time in his own room or else keeping Charles company. It seemed his immune system was hearty, for he hadn't seemed ill when she had last spoken to him. 

Several days had now elapsed since the onset of Jane's illness, and the eldest Bennett sister was doing much better, and in fact really had no need of a caregiver anymore, though she had said more than once that she was glad Elizabeth was there for the company. With any luck, the sisters would be able to go home in a few days, as long as the others had recovered as well. Elizabeth found this thought encouraging as she continued to explore. 

Eventually she came to a hallway at the far side of the house that she was sure would be a dead end and likely empty, but she preferred to look at it anyway, for perhaps it would have a nice view out the window. The hallway was in fact a dead end, but was far from empty.

Coming around the corner, she stopped short, for at the end of the hallway and facing the window was Mr. Darcy. With some amusement she realized he was about to sneeze, for he was hunched over with his handkerchief pressed to his face and his breath hitching desperately.

"Heh-ZZZIIIH'shieww! HIIHHK'choo!" He did his best to muffle the sound into his handkerchief, but was mostly unsuccessful. The sneezes were wet and miserable-sounding, and while Elizabeth couldn't see his face, she could imagine his equally miserable expression, for he sneezed like someone with a thick, burgeoning head cold.

She had a choice to make. She could very easily walk away and pretend she had seen nothing, leaving him and his cold to their own devices. After all, the fact that he had hidden away in this corner indicated that he didn't want to be discovered, and while he had been overall civil to her since she had come to stay here, his haughty pride and past treatment of her were not quickly forgotten. Or, she could offer him aid.

"Hih'GEHH'shuuh!" This 3rd sneeze, whether part of the trio or on its own (it was hard to be sure) was the most desperate and miserable sounding of them all. His shoulders slumped wearily as he tended to his nose in the aftermath, and she thought she heard him say something like "ick" as he did so as well.

"Bless you, sir," said Elizabeth boldly, coming fully into the hallway. He leapt around as if he'd been shot, his face reddening. She could see him frantically trying to think of a way to explain himself.

"My apologies," he muttered at last, gruffly. "That was most undignified."

"You have no need to apologize, for you didn't know I was here. It is I who should apologize for startling you. However, I wanted to ask after your health, for you sound most unwell."

"I am fine," he muttered, clearly uncomfortable. Looking closer at him, Lizzie saw the flush over his face might not be due entirely to embarrassment, but perhaps also to fever, for his eyes had the same unhealthy cast she had seen in Jane's eyes only a few days before. He was also swaying slightly where he stood, and had a dampness of sweat along his hairline.

"Might I offer to accompany you to your room, sir? You look as if you needed to lie down for a spell."

"That is… unnecessary. I can…." He cut himself off with a rough cough. She could tell he was desperately trying to think of an excuse as to why she shouldn't be the one assisting him. However, they both knew that Charles was sick (quite sick, if the murmurs she'd heard from the staff were to be believed), and that all the servants were overworked as it was with taking care of their master and his sister. 

"I'm sure you're quite busy with your sister. You need not concern yourself with me," he finally rasped. 

"On the contrary, she is resting peacefully, while you are positively trembling and look to be on the verge of collapse from fever. Take my arm and we shall see you to your quarters."

Mr. Darcy hesitated another moment, still casting around for some excuse. Knowing what needed to be done, Elizabeth moved to his side and gently linked her arm around his. She felt her heart flutter as their hands made brief contact. The fleeting thought crossed her mind that this was the first time they had touched. She had certainly imagined it occurring under different circumstances. Shaking away such thoughts, she started to walk, leading the much taller man toward his quarters. Mr. Darcy was enough of a gentleman to follow without further protest. 

As they walked, both of Mr. Darcy's arms were occupied, for the hand that wasn't linked with Elizabeth's was busy pressing his handkerchief to his face. Every few steps his shoulders would twitch, either from a stifled cough or a thick sniffle. She could sense he was desperately trying not to sneeze again. Between that and the fact that his large form was positively radiating heat, Elizabeth found herself quite distracted by him, and watched him intently out of the corner of her eye. The walk was a quiet one, for Elizabeth didn’t want to burden him with conversation when he was clearly otherwise engaged, not to mention ill.

They made it to his room without interruption, sneezing or otherwise. She allowed him to open the door, then she ushered them both in, with more than a little awkwardness on all sides. Mr. Darcy went immediately to sit on his bed, sinking down as if compelled by gravity, leaning his head into his hands as he continued to tremble.

"A headache troubles you as well, then?" she asked after observing his motionless form for a moment.

He nodded pathetically, not looking up. Out of nowhere, and startling them both, his breath hitched violently before a pair of sneezes erupted out of him. Thankfully they were directed at the floor. He pressed his damp handkerchief to his nose hastily, glancing at her and looking embarrassed.

"Forgive me," he muttered thickly, which was followed up with a cough.

"You need not waste your breath asking forgiveness every time you sneeze when you have a cold, for you have precious little breath to spare as it is. However, I must ask, why did you not alert someone of your illness? You are quite unwell, Mr. Darcy. Anyone can see it plainly."

"I did not want to be a bother, as everyone else was also ill. I thought it best to tend to myself."

"Whether or not you alerted someone, you shouldn't have gotten out of bed today. You've certainly made yourself worse by doing so."

He only groaned softly.

Elizabeth sighed to herself. "Please, if I may, let me help you feel more comfortable. You need to rest."

Hesitantly she approached him as he looked up to finally meet her eyes. With a gentle touch she guided him to sit up straighter, then deftly removed his cravat. She sensed more than heard his sigh of relief once it was off, and found herself letting her hand rest on his hot cheek under the pretense of checking his fever. He seemed to enjoy the touch immensely. Her eyes lingered on his face as he sat with his eyes closed, and many thoughts and feelings competed for space in her mind. She did her best to suppress them all.

 After a moment though, she broke the spell, and continued to help him remove his jacket, waistcoat, boots and stockings. He assisted as best he could with these attentions, but said nothing, merely following her every move with his guarded, intense gaze. Once the garments were set aside and he was looking much more loose and comfortable, if also embarrassed to be seen in such an undressed state, she pressed a glass of water into his hands and watched as he drank it down.

She took the glass from him, and setting it down, took up a cold, wet rag. She placed it against the back of his neck and was rewarded with a relieved sigh. From there she bathed the rest of his neck and the bit of chest that was visible, ensuring her gaze stayed far from his, but unable to help a bit of a blush creeping over her cheeks at such acts of intimacy with such a person. With continued gentleness, she pressed him back against the pillows. The movement of course made him cough pitifully. Soaking the cloth once more, she laid it on his forehead and left it there as she straightened the pillows around him.

That done, they simply surveyed each other for a moment. Mr. Darcy looked ill and altogether unimposing, lying in bed as he was, with tired circles under his eyes, a hacking cough, and a dripping nose.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked hesitantly.

"Some," he grunted. "Now that I'm lying down."

"Excellent. Are you hungry at all? I think perhaps you should eat something."

His intense stare and large, warm presence were making her nervous all over again and causing her to seek escape from the small room.

"I suppose I could eat," he murmured.

"Yes, good. Then let me go fetch you some soup. I'll be back soon." She bustled out of the room immediately, a blush rising to her face, of uncertain cause. She did her best to quiet her racing thoughts as she sped toward the kitchen.

Mr. Darcy, for his part, was totally smitten with her. He was now convinced her fine eyes were the centerpiece of her completely wonderful countenance and figure. He watched the space where the corner of her skirt had disappeared intently, waiting for her return and recalling again and again the feel of her cool hand on his face.

(Part 1 of 2)

[bethanydelleman]

Each Jane Austen Hero Writes a “Wentworth Letter”

We all love Wentworth’s famous declaration of love:

"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W.

"I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.” Persuasion

What if Austen’s other heroes wrote similar declarations of love?

Charles Bingley to Jane:

(“Oh!” cried Miss Bingley, “Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.”

“My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them—by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.” Ch 10)

Fitzwilliam Darcy to Elizabeth:

Scene: Darcy is back in London after not being able to speak to Elizabeth at the Longbourn party (Ch 54). He begins to write Elizabeth a letter

Miss Bennet,

I cannot be a slave to opportunity; I must speak to you by what means are within my reach. Angry and resentful I might have been after we parted in Kent, but that has long since taken a more proper direction. Upon your arrival at Pemberley, my object has been to show you every civility within my power. I have loved none but you. I went to Longbourn to attempt to penetrate your feelings. Please tell me if you feel as your did last April, a word, a look, will be enough to silence me forever.

I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it. You alone have brought me to Netherfield. For you alone, I deliberate and arrange. Have your bright eyes not perceived this? How can your quick understanding not comprehend my wishes? I can hardly write. You are too good to trifle with me. If you do believe in true attachment and constancy among men, believe it most ardent and undeviating-

(The letter is left unfinished as Lady Catherine is announced…)

 Edward Ferrars to Elinor Dashwood:

Scene: Marianne has just noticed the hair ring that Edward is wearing, he lies and says it is his sister’s hair but it is really Lucy Steele’s (S&S, Ch 18). He writes this letter:

Miss E. D.

I can no longer be silent; I must reveal the truth to you that I have hidden for too long. I love you, more completely and wholly than I myself believed possible. Yet, I cannot offer you a heart that is completely your own. Long before you were known to me, I bound myself to another. I am engaged to Lucy Steele and have been these last four years. I know you could not love me if I betrayed my honour and therefore, I must live in agony, without any hope of future happiness. Weak I have been, inconstant I have been, but you are too good, too excellent a creature. I could not help but love you.

I was young and foolish when I proposed to Lucy and I have learned better since. You have taught me what an amiable woman can truly be, but it is too late. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. Why did I come to your home without any hope of securing you as my own? I cannot think and plan, I can only exist in acute misery. I must go, certain of my terrible fate. When next I enter your mother’s house, I fear it will be sealed forever.

Your friend, E. F.

 Colonel Brandon to Marianne Dashwood:

Scene: Marianne is in bed sick and Elinor has requested that Colonel Brandon retrieve Mrs. Dashwood. This letter is written before the horses are ready. (S&S Ch 43)

Miss M. D.

I write this in haste before I depart. You are too ill to be seen or spoken to; I cannot remain in silence so I shall speak to you by what means are within my reach. I love you with all of my soul. Dare not believe that there is no such thing as a second attachment! That I have loved before does not diminish the strength of my affection for you. My love did not have an early death. I would offer myself to you with a heart all your own, despite the tragedy that almost broke it, many years ago. Is it not more wonderful that a fire, extinguished thoroughly by disappointment, may be reignited? Believe when I say that a first flame, alluring as it may be, is little when compared to a deep-rooted admiration.

You alone have brought me to Cleveland, for you alone I hope and plan. Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I can hardly write. I am almost overpowered when I think of how much wrong has been done to you. You are too good, too excellent a creature! I would do you justice. He was never worthy of you- but I shall not dwell on resentment. If you can still believe in true attachment and constancy among men, believe it most fervent, most undeviating in me.

I will go, uncertain of my fate, but I will return. A word, a look, will be enough to decide if I shall remain in your company or quit your society forever.

Yours eternally, Colonel Brandon

 Mr. Knightley to Emma:

Scene: Mr. Knightley is in London, writing a confession of his feelings to Emma, when he finds out that Frank Churchill is engaged to Jane Fairfax.

Emma,

I could no longer listen to you and Mr. Frank Churchill’s flirtations in silence. I went to London to teach myself to forget you. It is impossible. Tell me I am not too late, that your precious feelings are engaged forever. You are too good, too excellent a creature- perfect in spite of your imperfections! I would not have stayed away these ten days if I thought you indifferent to him. I can hardly write. I cannot imagine Hartfield without you.

He is engaged to Miss Fairfax? Abominable scoundrel! He has deceived us all, but you will hear nothing but truth from me. Shall time heal the wound? Do I have hope of succeeding -

(Mr. Knightley put down his pen and ordered his horse instead, despite the rain)

 Edmund Bertram to Mary Crawford:

Scene: Edmund is visiting London where he sees Mary Crawford several times in large groups. He writes this the next day.

Miss Crawford

You pierce my heart! I can go on no longer in silence. Your friends are wrong. They are completely unaware of the nature of love. Every word they say oppressing me- do not say that happiness is based in fortune. Do not think that mercenary goals are virtuous! If only I could detach you from these mercenary and ambitious friends! They are corrupting you and encouraging your weakness of character. You were better at Mansfield, everything proper and caring as a sister. The habits of wealth and luxury are too strong here in London. Only you would have brought me here. I can hardly write; I am every instant remembering something which makes me grave. You do us no justice! There is true attachment and constancy among men.

You are the only woman in the world whom I could ever think of as a wife. I offer myself to you with a heart completely your own. Tell me that I am not too late; I regret every day that I did not come to the point before you left the Parsonage. Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I have loved none but you.  For you alone, I think and plan. Can you accept the house I mean to fit up for you and the income that will furnish such a second son? I live between hope and agony. I will go to Mansfield, uncertain of my fate.

Edmund Bertram

 Henry Tilney to Catherine:

Henry is never uncertain of Catherine’s affection, so this one is just for fun.

Scene: Henry has just arrived at Fullerton and is listening to Catherine argue with her brother (not James, a different one) about whether men or women love the longest. Basically, the same conversation Wentworth overhears Anne and Harville having. He cannot join in because he lost his voice.

Catherine,

I can no longer listen in silence. I need to be a part of this conversation. If only I had not lost my voice! This is agony! I have so many helpful examples to bring to the discussion. You cannot comprehend how disagreeable it is to be silent. I am every instant hearing something for which I have a rebuttal. Why is no one bringing up Romeo and Juliet? That is a true example of how both sexes can feel passionate love. And Cordelia’s love for her father in King Lear, another excellent example of woman’s constancy in the face of opposition. But you just dismissed the Bard’s entire compendium and all literature in general; it could have really helped your argument. More robust than women? Does he not consider what your mother has endured? You know how very highly I think of all the women in the world, especially those with whom I happen to be in company. Never mind, I shall survive. I am capable of not contributing.

I am slightly worried from your manner of speaking that you are doubtful of my love for you. Too good, too modest a creature! Catherine, you alone have brought me to Fullerton (really, what else could?). I am bound to you by both honour and affection. I would not have waited these two hours but that your brother will not leave us alone. I offer myself to you with a heart all your own. You must be made aware, however, that my father does not approve and I have told him my feelings explicitly. That was the cause of my voice failing. For you alone I ranted and stormed.

I know that your heart is mine, but if you wish to assure me of that fact, it can never be repeated too often. I shall sit quietly now, certain of my fate.

Yours affectionately, Henry

[cyberpunkes]

To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence – Elizabeth had been at Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked – and Miss Bingley was uncivil to her, and more teasing than usual to himself. He wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should now escape him, nothing that could elevate her with the hope of influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had been suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke ten words to her through the whole of Saturday, and thought they were at one time left by themselves for half-an-hour, he adhered most conscientiously to his book and would not even look at her.

Pride & Prejudice (2005) dir. Joe Wright

[onevolon]

my love for you is infinite - part3

Santiago Garcia x afab!reader(Darcy)

note: pride and prejudice (2005) but with triple frontier boys because why not lol

word count: 2095

warnings: little angsty heheheee also the gender change i did makes some dialogs... interestingdfghhh especially in this part ENJOY

you can also read it on ao3.

part2 - part4 - masterlist

Santiago and Francisco are both in the same bed under the covers. They are too excited to sleep.

Francisco sighs “Mr Bingley is just what a young man ought to be: Sensible, good humored-“

“-Handsome, conveniently rich” Santiago continuous.

“You know perfectly weIl I do not believe marriage should be driven by thoughts of money.”

“I agree entirely, only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony, which is why I will end up an old man.”

“Do you really believe he liked me, Santi?”

“Frankie, he danced with you most of the night and stared at you for the rest of it. But I give you leave to like him. You've liked many a stupider person.”

“Santiago!”

“You're a great deal too apt to like people in general, you know. All the world is good and agreeable in your eyes.”

“Not his friend. I still cannot believe what she said about you.”

“Miss Darcy? I could more easily forgive her vanity had she not wounded mine. But no matter. I doubt we shall ever speak again.”

Mrs. Bennet presides over breakfast with an endless description of the ball. Tom is doing some needle work, whilst Ben, William and Francisco blearily eat.

“ ...and then he danced the third with Miss Lucas. Poor thing, it is a shame she is not more handsome. There's a spinster in the making and no mistake. The fourth with a Miss King of little standing. And the fifth again with Francisco.”

“If he'd had any compassion for me he would have sprained his ankle in the first set.”

“Oh, Mr. Bennet! The way you carry on, anybody would think our children looked forward to a grand inheritance.”

Santiago rolls his eyes at Mr. Bennet, they've heard this speech many times before.

“William, be so kind as to pass the butter.”

“As you well know, Mr. Bennet, when you die, which may in fact be very soon-”

“- As soon as I can manage it.”

“- our children will be left without a roof over their head nor a penny to their name. “

“Oh Mother, please! It's ten in the morning.” Santiago groans.

The maid enters the room and interrupts Mrs Bennet's babbling.

“A letter addressed to Miss Bennet, Ma'am. From Netherfield Hall.

“Praise the Lord! We are saved.”

She gives the letter to Francisco.

“Make haste, Francisco, make haste!”

“It is from Caroline.”

Mrs. Bennet is stopped in her tracks.

“She has invited me to dine with her. Her brother will be dining out.”

“Dining out?”

“Can I take the carriage?”

“Out where? Let me see that.”

She tweaks the letter from Francisco's grasp.

“It is too far to walk.”

“Unaccountable of him. Dining out, indeed.”

“Mama! The carriage? For Francisco? “

“Certainly not. She'll go on horseback.”

“Horseback?!”

A louder rumble of thunder is heard. The maid hastily pulls clothes from a line, it's raining down heavily now. Santiago runs through the garden and pulls a towel from the washing line as he passes.

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet look out at the pouring rain. Santiago rushes in with the towel and begins drying his hair with it.

“Excellent. Now he will have to stay the night. Exactly as I predicted.”

“Good grief, woman. Your matchmaking skills are becoming positively occult.”

“Though I don't think, Mama, you can reasonably take credit for making it rain. Let's hope he doesn't catch her death.”

A few days pass, Santiago is reading a letter.

“"And my kind friends will not hear of me returning home until I am better - but do not be alarmed excepting a sore throat, a fever, and a headache there is nothing wrong with me." I hope you're satisfied, Mother.”

“Well, my dear, if your son does die it will be a comfort to know it was all in pursuit of Mr Bingley.”

“People do not die of colds.”

“Though he might well perish with the shame of having such a mother.”

Mr. Bennet laughs, but Santiago is genuinely angry.

“I am going to Netherfield at once.”

He stomps out.

Santiago strides cross vast muddy fields, slipping as he goes. Netherfield is in view on the horizon. He stops to take it in, then carries on down an even more muddy track.

In the large grand dining room Caroline and Darcy are eating breakfast. It's very formal, in fact frigid, compared to the volatile Bennet household. Darcy is reading the newspaper, Caroline is reading a letter.

“Apparently, -Lady Bathurst is redecorating her ballroom in the French style. A little unpatriotic, don't you think?”

Miss Darcy is about to answer when the door opens. A footman appears, his face rigid with disapproval.

“Mr. Santiago Garcia Bennet.”

Santiago comes in, his face flushed, his feet covered in mud. Still he looks ravishing. Darcy stares at him, then quickly rises to her feet. Caroline Bingley, astonished, looks him up and down.

“Good Lord, Mr. Bennet. Have you walked here?”

“I have. I'm so sorry. How is my brother?”

“He’s upstairs.” Darcy answers “Show Mr. Bennet the way, Alfred.”

Santiago leaves.

“Goodness, did you see his coat? Six inches deep in mud!

“And his hair, so blowsy and untidy!”

“I think his concern for his sister does him credit.”

A little pause, Caroline recovers.

“Oh yes, it's shocking to have a bad cold. I dislike excessively being ill myself.”

Santiago races up the stairs to meet Bingley half way. His face lights up when he sees him.

“Mr. Santiago! Oh, I'm so glad to see you.”

“How is he?”

“He has a violent cold, but we shall get the better of it. I will have a bed made up for you. You must be our guest here until Francisco recovers.”

Santiago goes into the bedroom where Francisco lies in bed, feverish and ill. The blinds are drawn.

“Francisco!”

Francisco's face lights up. Santiago kisses his cheek.

“Santi! Oh, your face is so cold. They're being so kind to me, I feel such a terrible imposition.”

“Don’t worry. I don't know who is more pleased at your being here, Mama or Mr. Bingley.”

Bingley enters.

“Thank you, for tending to my brother so diligently, it seems he is in better comfort here than he would be at home.”

“It is a pleasure - I mean - not a pleasure that he's ill, of course not, but a pleasure that he's here - being ill.”

Caroline berates her brother.

“Stay!? He is a perfectly sweet but save being an excellent walker, there is very little to recommend him as a house-guest.

“I thought he showed remarkable spirit coming all this way.”

“The eldest Mr. Bennet, as you know, I hold in excessive regard but as for the rest of them…”

She walks down two steps and then turns back.

“You do realize their uncle is in trade? In Cheapside?”

“If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside it would not make them one jot less agreeable, Caroline.”

“It's all going according to plan. He's head-over-heels already, now all he needs is a little encouragement.” Mrs. Bennet exclaims.

“Who's that, my blossom?”

“Oh don't torment me, Mr Bennet. I mean Mr Bingley, as you well know, and he doesn't mind a bit that Frankie hasn't got a penny for he has enough for the two of them.”

William and Ben rush past as the distant sounds of drums and trumpet mingle with the snipping of Giles's shears.

“Wait for me, children!”

Mr. Bennet gazes at their departing figures, sucking his teeth with relief. He turns back to the boar.

Mrs. Bennet and her two sons rush down the street into the village. Dogs bark, children run alongside as a regiment of soldiers march through the street. The two Bennet boys simper at the hands of the young soldiers. Mrs. Bennet, flushed and excited, runs panting behind them. Ben deliberately drops a handkerchief. One of the soldiers stands on it. He is appalled while the other two are giggling at him.

Santiago is reading a book. Darcy is writing a letter. Caroline, obviously bored, wanders the room looking for distraction. She looks over Darcy's shoulder.

You write uncommonly fast, Miss Darcy.

“You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.” Darcy says without looking.

Caroline lingers, annoyingly.

“How many letters you must have occasion to write, Miss Darcy. Letters of business too. How odious I should think them!”

“It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours.”

“Please tell your sister that I long to see her.”

“I have already told her once, by your desire.”

Santiago looks across from his book.

“I do dote on her, I was quite in raptures at her beautiful little design for a table.”

“Perhaps you will give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again. At present I have not enough room to do them justice.”

“It’s amazing, how young ladies have the patience to be so accomplished.”

“What do you mean, Charles?”

“They all paint tables, and embroider cushions and play the piano. I never heard of a young lady, but people say she is accomplished.”

“The word is indeed applied too liberally. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen women, in all my acquaintance, that are truly accomplished.” Darcy says.

“Nor I, to be sure!” Caroline agrees.

Santiago interrupts “Goodness! You must comprehend a great deal in the idea, Miss Darcy.”

“I do.”

Coraline continuous “Absolutely. She must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing and the modern languages, to deserve the word. And something in her air and manner of walking.”

“And of course she must improve her mind by extensive reading.”

Santiago closes his book.

“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”

“Oh?”

“I never saw such a woman. She would certainly be a fearsome thing to behold.”

Everyone pauses. Darcy goes back to her letter. Caroline picks up a book. Pauses. Puts it down. She walks over to Santiago.

“Mr. Bennet, let us take a turn about the room.”

Santiago, surprised, gets up. Caroline links his arm and they start walking up and down.

“It’s refreshing, is it not, after sitting so long in one attitude?”

“And it's a small kind of accomplishment, I suppose.”

Darcy meets Santiago's eye, briefly. She doesn't know how to cope with the idea that he's laughing at her. Caroline turns to Darcy.

"Miss Darcy, will you join us?"

Darcy shakes her head “You can only have two motives, Caroline, and I would interfere with either.”

“What can she mean?” Caroline says, giving a knowing look to Santiago.

“Our surest way of disappointing her will be to ask nothing about it.” says Santiago.

“Please tell us, Miss Darcy!”

“Either you are in each other's confidence and have secret affairs to discuss, or you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage by walking. If the first, I should get in your way. If the second, I can admire you much better from here.”

“Oh, shocking! How shall we punish her for such a speech?”

“We could always laugh at her.”

“Oh no, Miss Darcy is not to be teased!

“Are you too proud, Miss Darcy? And would you consider pride a fault or a virtue?”

“That I couldn't say.”

“Because we're doing our best to find a fault in you.”

“Maybe, it's that I find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offences against myself. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.”

“Oh dear, I cannot tease you about that. What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh.”

“A family trait I think.” Caroline adds.

Santiago smiles, sweetly. Caroline glances at Darcy, expecting to have triumphed, but she's just looking put-out.

It’s almost morning when Santiago is awake in a small cot bed next to Francisco. He gets up and goes on the edge of the formal garden looking out onto to the rustic parkland. Suddenly Miss Darcy emerges over the crest of a hilI and gallops towards the house. She pulls the horse to a halt as she sees Santiago. With her wet hair flattened against her head and her face soaked in sweat she looks for a second like a mysterious and beautiful. They lock eyes for a brief moment before Santiago turns in a shiver and walks away.

Santiago enters the room and goes to bed. Francisco is waking up.

“Francisco, do you think you might feel weIl enough to leave today?”

[obscurelittlebird]

What the Bennet family is doing during quarantine...

- Mrs. Bennet would be panicking.

- Mr. Bennet will have locked himself in his library by day 2. 

- Jane is making WAY too much tea. 

- Lizzie is sneaking out every morning to get her walk in and hanging in her father's library reading to him. 

- Mary knows everything there is to know about the virus, and won't stop talking about it.

- Kitty is coughing which is causing Mrs. Bennet to panic even more. 

- Lydia is complaining about not being able to see the officers. 

BONUS:

 - Darcy isn't impacted. He hasn't left his house in mon-- weeks... He hasn’t left his house in weeks.

- Bingley is speed walking laps around Netherfield because he's worried about Jane and in desperate need of socialization and movement.

[dwellordream]

“...Women were crucial to the advance of the novel as writers, readers, and subjects. Women engaged as writers because of the inherent interest of the task and the possibility of earning money, as Austen eventually did, but also due to the closure of the public sphere, which ensured that energy and attention were devoted to the personal world. In Persuasion, Anne Elliot rebuts Captain Harville’s criticism of women’s fickleness in novels, poetry, songs, and proverbs on the grounds that they were written by men: “If you please, no reference to examples in books. Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove any thing.”

Many of the topics tackled by novels were inherently political in the broadest sense; notably, those that dealt with courtship and family life brought up issues of obedience, identity, and self-protection, the first of which were frequently patriarchal issues. Indeed, as a result of such considerations, novels very much addressed particular circumstances, both those of the sociohistorical moment and the specific experience of the authors. Thus, Mary Hays (1759–1843) made use of her own experiences, notoriously so in her Memoirs of Emma Courtney (1796), a novel in which she drew on her love letters in an unsuccessful romance and her offer to live together without marriage.

Novelists could employ language to challenge conventional plot assumptions. This is in part political, but a key element is also comic. From the outset of her writings, there is a comic element in Austen’s work. While parody, its major form in her early writings, can sometimes be political, it is essentially comic. This is an aspect of Austen’s personality also highlighted in the correspondence. As with other writers—for example, Fanny Burney and Emily Brontë—there was a contrast between her novels and her private writings, a contrast that throws light on cultural and social norms and therefore on the conformity that was involved.

Johnson claimed over dinner on April 29, 1778, that “all our ladies read now,” although, in Sense and Sensibility, Lady Middleton’s dislike of Elinor and Marianne Dashwood in part comes because “they were fond of reading.” In Pride and Prejudice, Mary Bennet asked Mr. Bingley for the use of the library at Netherfield, the form of sociability with which she was most comfortable. Reading linked the home to public places. In the home, the idea and language of taste left much space for women, including for their reading. 

This home environment drew on a public sphere in which women readers favored subscription and circulating libraries. These libraries tended to form a readership that responded to books as instances of genres rather than as necessarily distinct texts. Austen herself subscribed to a library in Basingstoke in 1798. The scale of such institutions could be considerable. 

Liverpool Library, a subscription library whose members owned shares, had over four hundred members by 1799, and between 1758 and 1800, the library acquired an average of almost two hundred books annually. A subscription library was established in Portsmouth in 1805, and the fictional Fanny Price became a subscriber to pursue “the biography and poetry which she delighted in.” There were one thousand circulating libraries by the end of the century, including nine in Bath and others in the coastal resorts of Sidmouth, Dawlish, Exmouth, and Teignmouth.

Female writers were dependent on female readers as a reliable market for their writing, and women could be important in subscription lists. At the same time, Austen presents many male readers, including John Thorpe and Henry Tilney in Northanger Abbey and Captain Benwick in Persuasion, the last a keen reader of poetry, including Byron and Scott. Indeed, news of his engagement to Louisa Musgrove leads to the assumption that she would learn to be an enthusiast of both. In Pride and Prejudice, two of the officers often go to the local library, and in Love and Friendship, when Edward Lindsay is upbraided by his father for refusing to marry in accordance with his wishes, the father says: “Where Edward in the name of wonder did you pick up this unmeaning gibberish? You have been studying novels I suspect.” 

In contrast, Charles Musgrove is “without benefit from books,” and Mr. Rushworth is “ignorant . . . in books.” In Sanditon, Sir Edward Denham, an unattractive character, had “read more sentimental novels than agreed with him.” He is critical of many novels and uses that as a way to praise himself: The mere trash of the common circulating library, I hold in the highest contempt. You will never hear me advocating those puerile emanations which detail nothing but discordant principles incapable of amalgamation, or those vapid tissues of ordinary occurrences from which no useful deductions can be drawn. . . . 

The novels which I approve are such as display human nature with grandeur—such as show her in the sublimities of intense feeling—such as exhibit the progress of strong passion from the first germ of incipient susceptibility to the utmost energies of reason half-dethroned—where we see the strong spark of woman’s captivations elicit such fire in the soul of man as leads him—(though at the risk of some aberration from the strict line of primitive obligations)—to hazard all, dare all, achieve all, to obtain her. . . . 

They hold forth the most splendid portraitures of high conceptions, unbounded views, illimitable ardour, indomitable decision . . . the potent, pervading here of the story . . . our hearts are paralyzed. . . . These are the novels which enlarge the primitive capabilities of the heart.

 A far more meritorious course of reading, one in which judgment is encouraged, is suggested by what Edmund Bertram offers Fanny Price in Mansfield Park, and this also provides an opportunity to appreciate Austen’s views: “He knew her to be clever, to have a quick apprehension as well as good sense, and a fondness for reading, which properly directed, must be an education in itself . . . he recommended the books which charmed her leisure hours, he encouraged her taste, and corrected her judgment; he made reading useful by talking to her of what she read, and heightened its attraction by judicious praise.”

As such, Fanny is able to choose books from the library. The pictorial appeal of reading was seen in Sanditon village, where “two females in elegant white were actually to be seen with their books and campstools.” The resort has a library.37 In Sense and Sensibility, Marianne Dashwood has “the knack of finding her way in every house to the library” and, when depressed and back at home, proposes to “divide every moment between music and reading. . . . Our own library is too well known to me. . . . But there are many works well worth reading at the Park. . . . By reading only six hours a day, I shall gain in the course of a twelvemonth a great deal of instruction.”

The image of libraries dominated by the works of women for female readers increased. So did the presentation of the female reader as an icon. Elizabeth Bennet prefers reading to cards, as does Darcy. Cards are inherently about conversation, while reading is private. Describing truly accomplished women, Darcy adds to the usual list that “she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.” So with Charlotte Heywood in Sanditon, who enjoyed reading novels but is not misled by them.

 Austen criticizes young women who do not read, as in Catherine, or the Bower (1792), in the character of Camilla Stanley, the daughter of a wealthy MP: “Those years which ought to have been spent in the attainment of useful knowledge and Mental Improvement, had been all bestowed in learning Drawing, Italian and Music, more especially the latter, and she now united to these Accomplishments, an Understanding unimproved by reading and a Mind totally devoid either of taste or judgment. . . . She professed a love of Books without Reading.”

Kitty discusses books with Camilla. Although Kitty “was well read in modern history” herself, and able to debate Richard III with Edward Spencer (as Austen would have been with anyone), she chose rather to speak first of books of a lighter kind, of books universally read and admired, and begins with Charlotte Smith’s novels, with which Austen was familiar. Austen has Camilla and Kitty discuss whether the five-volume Ethelinde: or the Recluse of the Lake (1789) is too long.  Camilla, in contrast, cannot discuss politics and is ignorant of geography, but she is proud of her family and her connections and thereby is condescending and heartless to Kitty.

Women’s reading appears to have troubled some male commentators. Female novel reading certainly provided female writers a way to address their anxieties about literary authority and a means to establish their rights to such authority. In her preface to Evelina, Burney commented: “Perhaps were it possible to effect the total extirpation of novels, our young ladies in general, and boarding-school damsels in particular, might profit from their annihilation: but since the distemper they have spread seems incurable, since their contagion bids defiance to the medicine of advice or reprehension  .  .  . all attempts to contribute to the number of those which may be read . . . without injury, ought to be encouraged.” 

The gender dimension is to the fore when judging a book from the outside: “For every thing announced it to be from a circulating library,” Mr. Collins “protested that he never read novels.” This response led to surprise from Kitty and Lydia Bennet. However, Collins’s response matched his reading aloud from James Fordyce’s frequently reprinted Sermons to Young Women (1766), which was very critical of novels. In practice, Austen was not the only novelist in her family or, indeed, the only novelist with a close connection to the clergy. 

Cassandra Cooke, who was the first cousin of Austen’s mother; the wife of Austen’s godfather, the Reverend Samuel Cooke; and Austen’s hostess on several occasions at Great Bookham, Surrey, wrote one novel, Battleridge: an Historical Tale, Founded on Facts. In Two Volumes, by a Lady of Quality (1799). In fact, 48 of the 1,058 subscribers to Fanny Burney’s Camilla (1796) were members of the clergy. Nevertheless, Mr. Collins was not alone in his doubts. Imaginative literature was regarded as potentially exacerbating the female imagination. Fiction and philosophy especially were often banned for women and girls. Women were thought especially vulnerable to new philosophical ideas. 

The danger of women reading radical texts was repeatedly imagined in fictional works, such as novels, in terms of sexual transgression leading to illness, breakdown, and death. This convention is mocked in Sheridan’s play The Rivals, in which Lydia, fearful of being found out, urges the hiding of such works, including Smollett’s novels. Austen offers a very different criticism of novels as implausible and therefore misleading. This is to the fore in the account of romance. Austen’s criticism was shared by other writers—for example, by Maria Edgeworth in her novel Belinda (1801), a work that indicates the moral and social utility of the novel as well as the misleading character of most novels.

Indeed, Belinda satirically cuts the gothic novel as well as its romantic counterpart. Despite, and at times because of, the varied strictures offered, many women enjoyed reading and explicitly commented on its pleasurableness. This reading was far from confined to novels. According to Edward Gibbon, the first volume of his Decline and Fall, which was published in 1776, was read by “fine-feathered ladies.” Among other issues, reading permitted critical engagement with concerns over authority, which was seen with both novels and history, although that engagement could accentuate the anxiety provoked by reading. 

Sentiment could combine with a critical approach to social practices in Austen’s work, as when Fanny Price rejects Henry Crawford, trusting that she has done right and hoping that her uncle’s displeasure would abate “as he considered the matter with more impartiality, and felt, as a good man must feel, how wretched, and how unpardonable, how hopeless and how wicked it was, to marry without affection.” By looking at how others constructed an account of the self, it was possible to offer one’s own and, therefore, develop individuality—for character, writer, and reader. At the same time, the situation was made more complex, as in Austen’s work, by the self being handled, as it were, from outside, an approach that offered the prospect of an ironic stance by author, readers, and other characters in the novel. 

Austen manages to combine the internal and external presentations of character. Thus, in a fashion at once instructive and skillful, we understand events from Emma’s point of view but, at the same time, are guided to be critical of her perspective. Austen’s authorial perspective was significant in her comments on the substance and style of other novels. Thus, one way for her to handle the close of Northanger Abbey, and to guide reader expectations, was to comment on the contrast between the romance of Catherine Morland and Henry Tilney and the clichés of sentimental novels: 

“I must confess that his affection originated in nothing better than gratitude, or, in other words, that a persuasion of her partiality for him had been the only cause of giving her a serious thought. It is a new circumstance in romance, I acknowledge, and dreadfully derogatory of an heroine’s dignity; but if it be as new in common life, the credit of a wild imagination will at least be all my own.”

She concluded that novel with a question, inviting the reader to determine “whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend paternal tyranny, or reward filial disobedience.” So also with the last stages of Sense and Sensibility. There is a droll placement of the characters that cuts across cliché and undermines pretension. Marianne Dashwood, “instead of falling a sacrifice to an irresistible passion,” in the shape of Willoughby, finds love “in time” with Colonel Brandon, whom “she had considered too old to be married,—and who still sought the constitutional safe-guard of a flannel waistcoat!” 

As for Willoughby: “That he was for ever inconsolable, that he fled from society, or contracted an habitual gloom of temper, or died of a broken heart, must not be depended on—for he did neither. He lived to exert, and frequently to enjoy himself. His wife was not always out of humour, nor his home always uncomfortable.” There is also an undercutting of social language. Thus, in Austen’s description of Robert and Lucy Ferrars, they “were on the best terms imaginable with the Dashwoods; and setting aside the jealousies and ill-will continually subsisting between Fanny and Lucy, in which their husbands of course took a part, as well as the frequent domestic disagreements between Robert and Lucy themselves, nothing could exceed the harmony in which they all lived together.”

The contrast with reality comes at the very close of the book. In place of the poor relationship of the Ferrars, with the nasty mother, the selfish daughter, and the son Robert, who was “proud of tricking Edward,” came “strong family affection  .  .  . among the merits of Elinor and Marianne, let it not be ranked as the least considerable, that though sisters, and living almost within sight of each other, they could live without disagreement between themselves, or producing coolness between their husbands.” The ironic tone of the word though sits alongside the clear advocacy of sisterly harmony. The latter looks to Austen’s own family experience and is a theme in her novels.”

- Jeremy Black, “The Rise of the Novel.” in England in the Age of Austen