Mr D’arcy and Miss Bennett

On a bright sunny morning in Huntingdonshire . Mr Darcy decides it is time to meet the neighbours.

“Mr D’arcy how delightful!” Mrs Bennet simpered as her new neighbour arrived on horseback quite unannounced .

“Indeed Madam the pleasure is all mine!” Mr D’arcy replied airily, “Tis a pleasant enough little place you have here, quite like my lodging at Manderly but somewhat smaller I fear.”

“Oh Mr D’arcy you are too kind,” Mrs Bennet smiled through gritted teeth, “Come you must meet my girls,” she added, seeing an opportunity to marry one off, and called upon them to come through.

“This is Jayne my eldest,” Mrs Bennet declared.

“Ah plain Jayne, how appropriate,” Mr D’arcy greeted her.

“And Eliza,” Mrs Bennet indicated her second eldest.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” Mr Darcy smarmed.

“Oh Mr D’arcy” Miss Eliza replied, “I can assure you that you would surely have remembered if you had had the pleasure.” she laughed

“Ah, I meant of meeting you,” Mr D’arcy explained, “I should of course have remembered every detail had we met previously.”

“Not to worry Mr D’arcy,” Miss Bennet explained, “The mind always plays tricks when we get older.”

“I am but Thirty Two years of age not some doddering octogenarian,” Mr D’arcy explained in exasperation. “I merely wish to make your acquaintance.”

“Mother is as always offering us up for your delectation, in the expectation that you will be so infatuated with us on sight that you will instantly take one of us to be your bride?” Miss Eliza enquired.

“Indeed that is not my intention madam,” Mr D’arcy explained somewhat painfully, “I merely wished to enquire if I might shoot a few of your pheasants as I fear I have slaughtered the vast majority of those at Manderley and the season has hardly begun.”

“Indeed shoot away for we have peasants far in excess of our needs,” Mrs Bennet simpered, “Gardeners, ostlers, idlers, why we have a complete superfluity of peasants..

“Pheasants mother, not Peasants.” Eliza cautioned. “One cannot shoot Peasants.”

“In the lord’s name why not?” Mrs Bennet exclaimed, “If one might not shoot them how is discipline to be maintained?”

“Miss Eliza, I have done you a dis-service,” Mr D’arcy exclaimed, “I had thought you the most idiotic and completely deluded woman I had ever met but I own you are indeed quite sane when compared to your mother.”

“How are we to impose discipline Mr D’arcy if we cannot shoot the miscreants?” Mrs Bennet demanded. “One cannot carry a rack around with one and whipping is no substitute.”

“Dear lord mother he wants to shoot a few birds,” Miss Eliza sighed, “And yet you suggest he shoots our servants and takes the pick your daughters to be his bride.”

“And why not, my girls can please a man as well as any I venture,” Mrs Bennett insisted.

“I merely wish to shoot some birds,” Mr D’arcy argued, “Not be pleased by any or all of your daughters madam.”.

“Fo you not desire us to please you?” Eliza enquired.

“Alas no, I merely wish to dispatch a few birds,” Mr D’arcy replied.

Mrs Bennet recoiled at the sentiment, “You are a strange one Mr D’arcy if you prefer to shoot birds when my girls wish nothing more than to whisk you upstairs and to please you.”

“I meant by playing the Pianoforte of a game of whist perhaps?