Is Darcy Demi?

Dear JaneConites,

As promised, below please find the full text of my presentation. When I came to review the footage, I found that I had considerably more than would fit in a 45-minute window. This includes everything I cut, including all of my analysis of Volume 3. I hope you like it.

Is Darcy Demi? An Exploration of Sexuality by Kaurifish

Introduction

We P&P fans have talked about Mr. Darcy a lot. Was he shy? Was he a snob? Was he neurodivergent? Today, I explore another possible lens by which we modern folks can examine him: the possibility that he was demisexual.

Hi, I'm Kaurifish. I have spent a lot of time thinking about Darcy's sexuality. I have been writing erotic P&P variations for two decades. You can find my writings on Fanfic.net, Archive of our Own (AO3) and Patreon. There are links on my webpage, kaurifish.net, where you will also find a transcript of this presentation at kaurifish.net/demi.

I've read fic examinations of Darcy's sex drive from the classic "Under Good Regulation" wherein his regularly scheduled masturbation sessions take a beating from Elizabeth's presence at Netherfield to "Necessity" where his three carefully curated maids prove insufficient to take care of his needs.

Long I have felt that the normal sexual patterns of a Regency gentleman do not fit his character. My work has always centered the virgin Darcy, holding himself aloof from the peccadillos common to his time, largely because of Wickham's bad example. Only recently have I begun to consider that his sexuality might have an even deeper divergence from societal norms.

Today I will examine the text for any hints about Darcy's sexual being, compare them to our definition of demisexuality and examine them in the context of English society of Austen's time. I will also examine my own works for my developing understanding of his sexuality.

And while my works contain many explicit descriptions of sexual activity, I have not included any in this presentation.

Definitions

What is demisexuality?

The Demisexuality Resource Center defines demisexuality as "a sexual orientation in which someone feels sexual attraction only to people with whom they have an emotional bond." They add that demisexuals rarely feel sexual attraction compared to the general population, and surveys indicate that some have less interest in sexual activity than people of other sexual orientations.

Are demis ace?

Demisexuality is considered as part of the asexual spectrum, contrasted to those who are allosexual — who experience sexual attraction outside of the context of emotional bond.

Many demisexual people experience no sexual desire until they meet someone with whom they form the right emotional bond. I believe that this is a key part of understanding Darcy's sexuality.

Disclaimer

One's sexuality is a process of self-discovery and I believe can only be revealed by oneself. As Darcy is a fictional character written in an era that did not yet recognize different sexualities and in a form that did not allow for the exploration of sexuality, I will be engaging in much conjecture from little evidence.

Heads up: I'll be answering questions in the comments and Discord, so please feel free to ask away!

The Cultural Context

The English Regency was a period of Classical culture. It wasn't just women's clothing and sculptures that were influenced by the contemporary notion of Greco/Roman culture, but manners. While Romantic periods are noted for an emphasis on sentiment, Classical periods are marked by an emphasis on control, and the Regency was no exception.

Men were supposed to be exemplars of control. The husband was the head of his family, legally owning his wife due to the British legal concept of coverture. He was responsible for not only his own conduct but that of his wife and children.

Mr. Darcy, as the head of his house, guardian to his sister and master of an estate would have been expected and raised to control himself impeccably under most circumstances. This complicates the analysis of his behavior, as being withdrawn and reticent would be among the behaviors expected of a gentleman in his position.

In my analysis where the text of the novel lacks, I fill in the gaps with history – as much as I can, as Austen would have understood it.

Context:

Darcy is a 28-year-old gentleman at the start of P&P. Darcy says that his father sent Wickham to Cambridge, and as we have no direct intelligence about Darcy's education, it is fair to assume that he also attended Cambridge. As his father had died five years before the events of P&P begin, we have no reason to think he would have been withdrawn from school early to take on the duties of his inheritance, we can assume he left when he was 18, as was standard at the time.

That means he would have been out in society for nine seasons when we meet him in the fall of 1811. Well did Elizabeth call him a man of education who had seen the world (even if he had stayed in England rather than going on a Grand Tour, which would have been made difficult due to Europe being at war).

As his uncle, William Fitzwilliam, was an important politician with a socially active wife (she arranged the marriage of her oldest, the Viscount Milton, to her niece). Thus we can assume significant social pressure for Darcy to participate in seasons in town, be introduced to eligible ladies and pursue marriage with one of them. As he is still single at the start of the novel, something must have intervened in this course of events. Was it his promised marriage to his cousin Anne de Bourgh? Or perhaps something deeper within him?

Over and over again in the text, we see Darcy overwhelmed by his feelings, acting uncharacteristically and even in defiance of propriety in his dealings with Elizabeth. I believe that this is proof of how unused he was to having romantic feelings.

As Austen's novels were written without direct references to sex, we must look for proxies. In Georgian society, dance was very much a proxy for sexual interaction. Thus we can extrapolate Darcy's attitudes toward sex via his attitude toward dance.

The other pattern that we see is in the differences between his interactions with Miss Bingley and with Elizabeth. He was already well acquainted with Miss Bingley at the start of the novel and, though intimate (see Caroline's liberties with believing she understood his feelings), did not seem to be attracted to her.

What the text says (sourced from pemberley.com)

The Timeline

~Oct. 15, 1811 — Meryton ball, Darcy first sees Lizzy

~Oct. 25, 1811 — Gathering at Lucas Lodge, Darcy asks Lizzy to dance

Nov. 12-17, 1811 — Jane and Lizzy's stay at Netherfield

Nov. 15, 1811 – Darcy begins to feel his danger

April 9, 1812 – The Hunsford parsonage proposal

Aug. 17-31, 1812 – Darcy settles matters between Lydia and Wickham, attends wedding

Oct. 6, 1812 – The re-proposal

Nov. 12, 1812 – Earliest wedding date

The Slight

The start of the novel contains the most substantial hint about the possibility that Darcy is demisexual, particularly in contrast with his reactions to Elizabeth as opposed to Caroline Bingley. At the Meryton Assembly, Bingley urges Darcy to dance. Darcy responds:

"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with."

Whereupon Bingley reproves him and suggests that he introduce Darcy to his partner's sister.

"Which do you mean?'' and turning round, he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said, "She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

- Volume 1, Chapter 3

Being introduced at a dance was very standard in this era. In Northanger Abbey, Henry Tilney seeks an introduction to Catherine Moreland at a public ball in Bath. In this very scene, Bingley is introduced to Jane immediately before asking her for a set.

Thus we are left to wonder if Darcy is just being over-fastidious, as Bingley suggests, or if there is something deeper at play for him. The physical interplay of a Regency ballroom dance seems to be uncomfortable for him, if it is not with someone whom he knows well. This gives us the possibility that sexual feeling is linked to emotional bond for him.

Dancing was one of the few physical activities that unmarried persons were allowed to participate in together (together with parlor games such as Blind Man's Bluff and helping women into and out of carriages or over stiles). It was a key courtship activity and considered as a precursor of sex.

Here we might consider Darcy's reluctance to dance with strangers as merely a sign of fastidiousness. He would have been used to the first circles of society in London, and the reader might easily decide that Darcy felt that Hertfordshire society was savage in comparison, given his use of the term to Sir William during an impromptu dance at Lucas Lodge.

But it is in considering the two statements together that we see a pattern emerge: Darcy, though we later know him to come to be considerably attracted to Elizabeth, has no inclination for her at first because he does not know her. It would be painful to dance with her because of that lack of emotional connection.

Yes, the more rustic circumstances of the dance make it even less possible for him to consider — whereas in town, social pressure (aka his aunt the countess) might well compel him to dance with an unknown lady, but here in the country where doing so might raise mercenary expectations, he is adamant to not participate. But even though he allows Elizabeth to be handsome, it is still not enough for him.

The Listening

In the next chapter we see Darcy begin to feel attraction for Elizabeth:

"Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley's attentions to her sister, Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware; — to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable no where, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with.

He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with others."

Darcy is beginning to feel attraction without even having interacted directly with her based on his judgment of the interaction between her appearance and character.

He puts himself in a position to get to know her without risking starting an interaction (badly, as it turns out: His listening quickly turns into conversation with her).

They speak. She teases him. Charlotte hustles her to the pianoforte to display (I'm convinced she was cognizant of Darcy's attraction before he was).

Later in the party, Sir William encourages him to ask Elizabeth to dance:

"'My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? — Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. — You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.''' And taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it..."

In between one meeting and the next, Darcy has become willing to dance with Elizabeth, and at a much less formal and thus presumably less acceptable occasion than the Meryton assembly. Such an impromptu dance at an evening party was a very casual affair with relaxed rules of conduct, including those proscribing how often one could dance with the same partner (ex. the Middletons' impromptu dances in S&S).

This is of particular interest because in his previous conversation with Sir William he had rather denigrated dancing, both with his rather beligerant response to his query if he had danced at St. James ("It is a compliment which I never pay to any place, if I can avoid it.") and his statement that "every savage can dance."

And even when Elizabeth refuses to dance with him, he stands there, thinking about her. This is when Miss Bingley approaches him to attempt to draw him into her confederacy of disdain for Meryton society. His abstracted deflection of her attempt at intimacy ("What would I give to hear your strictures on them!") is blunt and utterly unfeeling:

"'Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.'

Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Mr. Darcy replied with great intrepidity, 'Miss Elizabeth Bennet.'"

I think that we can agree that if he had any sensibility about Caroline's feelings toward him, he would have been more tactful in his response, respecting that she was his hostess at Netherfield and the sister of his friend. His insensitive response seems to speak to preoccupation — with Elizabeth. His being acquainted with Bingley's sisters was enough for a dance, but not enough for the kind of attraction we see toward Lizzy.

Miss Bingley responds with what should have been a winning tactic, pushing him. She asks when she is to wish him joy (that is, when he would marry Elizabeth). This is a classic technique for making someone rethink an inappropriate decision, but it backfires. Darcy seems untroubled.

"'That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.'

'Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and of course she will be always at Pemberley with you.'

He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner, and as his composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long."

Darcy's diffident reaction might imply that he actually was indifferent to Elizabeth, only enjoying her company slightly, but it is possible that his calm covered the start of his great ambivalence that consumes the first part of the novel: his growing obsession with Elizabeth warring with his conviction that it would be, in his own words, a reprehensible connection.

Under the Same Roof

Darcy and Elizabeth's next interaction is in Volume 1, Chapter 7, when Elizabeth walks to Netherfield to inquire after Jane who has fallen ill. She meets the company in the breakfast room. Darcy's thoughts are given as "divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone."

We see here Darcy simultaneously bound by propriety (the unsuitability of a gentlewoman walking alone) and physical admiration for Elizabeth's person. This was underscored in the 1995 BBC adaptation, where Andrew Davies directed Firth to act as if Elizabeth's appearance caused a certain, marked physical reaction in him.

In Chapter 8, after Elizabeth has gone to attend Jane, the Netherfield party critiques Elizabeth's appearance. This provides another opportunity for one of Darcy's retorts to Caroline's insults.

"I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,' observed Miss Bingley in a half whisper, 'that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes.'

'Not at all,'' he replied; 'they were brightened by the exercise.'"

Thus we see that Darcy's retorts to Caroline's attempts at intimacy are not just in crowded parties but also in the privacy of home life.

This conversation also includes Darcy's observations that the Bennet girls' low connections will prevent their marrying with men of "any consideration in the world." This observation may simply be a reminder to Bingley of how the world works but could also be viewed as directed to himself, that even if he allowed himself to wish to marry with her, it was out of the question. We will later see in his proposal at Kent how his attitude festered within him over the next four months.

Their next interaction comes when the company is in the drawing room after dinner and Elizabeth has joined them after tending Jane. Again Darcy betrays his preoccupation with Elizabeth by referencing her height after Miss Bingley has called for him to compare Georgiana with herself, then in claiming reading — the very activity in which Elizabeth is currently occupied — as one of the key accomplishments of a lady.

This leads to yet another of Darcy's set-downs to Caroline ("meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation"), a continued escalation of the pattern of his remarks toward her.

In Chapter 9 Darcy is largely silent (who can speak when Mrs. Bennet is in the room?) but his choice of speech is again reflective of his romantic thoughts regarding Elizabeth. When she attempts to cut off her mother's bragging about Jane's not-quite conquests with an observation about the effectiveness of poetry in ending love, he responds immediately:

"I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love,' said Darcy.

'Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every thing 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.'

Darcy only smiled..."

Here we see Darcy amused by Elizabeth's wit, even in her mother's company.

The chapter ends with Caroline again attempting to draw Darcy into criticism of Elizabeth but failing completely. She really should have learned better by now.

In Chapter 10, Elizabeth joins the party in the drawing room where Bingley and Darcy's conversation draws her into a debate about persuasion. Here, even after stalwartly ignoring Caroline's attempts to draw him out to focus on his letter-writing, Darcy is immediately drawn into conversation with her. Elizabeth then suggests he finish his letter, which he promptly does, then requests music. After Elizabeth displays, Miss Bingley takes the instrument.

"After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near Elizabeth, said to her —

'Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?'

She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some surprise at her silence.

'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.'

'Indeed I do not dare.'

Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger."

Here we have Darcy, in a very informal setting, making another attempt to dance with Elizabeth.

In particular I would draw your attention to how much umbrage Caroline would take at her display of accomplishment being used to court her rival. Darcy taking this opportunity was thus very bold. And Elizabeth's semi-rude response (full of arch sweetness or no) does not discourage him even slightly, only makes him remind himself that it is an impossible match.

This trend continues to the end of the chapter when he and Caroline are walking outside, Caroline twitting him about his supposed upcoming marriage to Elizabeth, his calmly requesting her further input. One can easily imagine Darcy becoming angered by being accused of harboring such thoughts — we know he internally remands the impossibility of it to himself — but he seems to instead enjoy the opportunity to compliment Elizabeth to another.

In Chapter 11, Elizabeth brings Jane down after dinner to socialize with the others. Caroline makes another ill-fated attempt to captivate Darcy, resorting to using her now-rival by requesting her company in a walk around the room. This is immediately effective in drawing his attention.

Darcy's admiration of their figures while walking seems directed primarily at Elizabeth, as he never has anything to say about Caroline's appearance.

Darcy then enters into their conversation, which quickly turns both intimate and heated, ending with:

"'And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.'

'And yours,' he replied with a smile, 'is wilfully to misunderstand them.'"

Here we see him undisturbed by Elizabeth's near-direct statement that he hates her, beginning, I believe, his pattern of thinking of her as speaking opinions which are not her own. This consistent misapprehension on his part, which marks this era of their relationship, is a powerful cognitive dissonance. He at once admires the forthrightness of her character while ascribing all her criticism of himself to playfulness. I have yet to see anyone engage in this level of self-deceit without powerful emotions being involved.

This is underscored by the last sentence of the chapter where Darcy reflects on the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention. We do not know if this was danger to himself or the danger of raising her expectations of him, but regardless, it reveals that his emotions are strongly in play.

In Chapter 12, the Bennet sisters leave Longbourn. This short chapter gives us a significant glimpse into Darcy's feelings at the time:

"She attracted him more than he liked — and Miss Bingley was uncivil to her, and more teazing 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 though 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."

It seems he has come to dislike Miss Bingley's teasing and to realize that his attentions had every chance of raising Elizabeth's expectations of a declaration from himself. Darcy would have been long schooled in the necessity of not engaging with a young lady without intending to propose. Such entanglements could ruin reputations, and since he liked Elizabeth, he seemed to have no thoughts of dallying with her and leaving her with a reputation in tatters.

We also see that his willpower is equal to ignoring her, though they were left alone. This will change.

The Ball

Their last interaction in this volume is not until Chapter 18, the Netherfield Ball. Here he approaches her to ask her to dance, this time successfully. The more formal setting of a private ball gives Lizzy less leeway to refuse him without having to sit out the rest of the night, and while we do not know that Darcy counted on this social reality, we cannot discount it. Such maneuvering would have been abhorrent to him if consciously done, I believe, so I tend to ascribe his approaching her for this third request to his attraction to her, which is now well-established in the narrative.

Elizabeth engages in a tempestuous discourse with him after deciding that conversation would be more of a punishment for him than silence. She needles him with his behavior toward Wickham, being rather rude, but Darcy responds politely, only growing cold as their set is ending:

"'I can readily believe,' answered he gravely, 'that report may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.'

'But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.'

'I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,' he coldly replied. She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in silence; on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, for in Darcy's breast there was a tolerable powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against another."

Here we see Darcy wanting Elizabeth to not judge him based on Wickham's lies. Her opinion of him is important to him and he would rather she suspend her judgment than judge against him. But despite his failure to convince her, he does not blame her for being taken in and instead places the responsibility where it deserves, on the scoundrel Wickham.

For the rest of the evening, he lingers near her but does not attempt to further involve her in conversation. To me, this signals powerful but ambivalent feelings. This makes sense, given her family's terrible display of manners. We can see why Darcy decided, only two days after the ball, to depart the county, never intending to return. This is her first rejection of him, more subtle than the second, but still marked for one of sensitive feelings as Darcy shows himself to be.

In Kent

Darcy and Elizabeth do not meet again until Volume 2, Chapter 30, when Darcy and Col. Fitzwilliam, come to Rosings to spend Easter with their aunt and cousin.

The timing here is very interesting. It has been 116 days since Darcy left Hertfordshire. But the very next day after arriving, he comes with the colonel to call upon the ladies at Hunsford Parsonage.

We gather from Charlotte's reaction, who would have heard from Lady Catherine and the servants both of the nephews' previous visits, that waiting upon them directly was not what she had expected. Charlotte's own acquaintance with Darcy in Meryton would not have required such a visit. We then gather that, despite Darcy's ambivalence and the months that passed without action on his part, that his desire to see Elizabeth remains strong.

Darcy allows Col. Fitzwilliam to lead the conversation, saying only the polite minimum. But when Elizabeth needles him about Jane being in London, he seems puzzled. As we know that he had concealed Jane's presence in town from Bingley and yet he does not seem conscious of this, I diagnose that his feeling at being once again in company with Elizabeth dominating his thoughts to the exclusion of all else.

Six days later begins the awkward interval in visiting where Darcy calls upon Elizabeth often but seems pressed for conversation. When he chooses the subject of their discourse, it betrays that his thoughts have been lingering on matrimonial possibilities.

When Elizabeth responds with surprise to his characterization of the 50 miles between Meryton and Rosings as an easy distance (for context, the distance between Hertfordshire and Derbyshire is some 140 miles), he responds:

"'It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Any thing beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.'

As he spoke there was a sort of smile, which Elizabeth fancied she understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane and Netherfield, and she blushed as she answered,

'I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expence of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent journeys -- and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance.

Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, 'You cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You cannot have been always at Longbourn.'"

- Volume 2, Chapter 32

Darcy is revealing his private thoughts, that Elizabeth cannot possibly be very attached to her family, given how uncouth they are. His contradictory statements show how unsettled his views are. He first credits Elizabeth with attachment to home then discounts her intentions to remain near. I think that this reveals what we will later discover: That he believes that his attentions are causing Elizabeth to become attached to him and to expect his declaration. His secret fantasies are making inroads into his perceptions of reality, as we would not expect them to do unless they were powerful indeed.

His conduct, as revealed by Elizabeth's meditations upon it, bear this out:

"But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice — a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared really animated."

Darcy is seeking Elizabeth out but sitting in silence, not speaking his mind, possibly constrained by the presence of others. In Chapter 33, we find him seeking her out while she is having her solitary walks and there speaking more openly, if not coherently.

"...it struck her in the course of their third rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions — about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins's happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it."

Here in private, we see Darcy betraying more of his assumptions. He is thinking about their future life, about her accompanying him into Kent to enliven his visits of duty to his aunt, his anticipation of her pleasure in the walks at Pemberley.

He has come to believe that he knows Elizabeth and that there is a growing bond of mutual feeling between them. This has blossomed into expectations of a union — both in his own mind and, it seems, in his belief about her thinking.

I would point out that in the eight days between his first visit to the Parsonage and his proposal that he encountered Elizabeth three times. Without prior arrangement it is wholly possible that those three meetings were the tip of the iceberg of his efforts to encounter her. He could have walked out every morning (that he could escape from his aunt) and only encountered her those three times, walking away in disappointment the others. This shows how powerful his feeling for her was as we would expect an annual visit of this sort to be spent in visiting with his aunt and cousins.

Also, Darcy has delayed their departure from Kent (the colonel reveals this in his conversation with Lizzy in the next chapter), despite a finite leave from his regiment on the colonel's part (one assumes he would rather spend that time in town given how dull he tells Lizzy he finds Rosings when they first meet). This is strong evidence of ambivalence of feeling, else he would have made his declaration and left for town in good order.

Darcy's Declaration

This leads us to Chapter 34 and the proposal. Col. Fitzwilliam unwittingly exposed Darcy's interference between Jane and Bingley. Grieved, Elizabeth claims a headache and stays at the Parsonage while the others go to tea at Rosings. Darcy, discovering that she has stayed behind and surmising that she has created an opportunity for him to declare himself, heads over.

The scene that follows between them is a tragedy of miscommunication. He believes that she is expecting his proposal and thus tempers it with explanations of why he has delayed (aka insulting her family). She is puzzled to see him at all and utterly taken aback by his proposal because, despite Charlotte's hints, she never believed that he was interested in her.

Her response startles and shocks him.

"Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantle-piece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips, till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth's feelings dreadful. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said,

'And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.'"

We can have no doubt that he had convinced himself that Elizabeth shared his feelings. He believed in an emotional bond between them and was dismayed to find that it did not exist. His lack of civility in the rest of the conversation speaks to his distress.

Chapter 35 gives us Darcy's letter of explanation. It bears repeating that correspondence between unmarried ladies and gentlewomen was beyond the pale of Regency manners. That he felt circumstances permitted it in this case speaks to his need to be understood. Back in Hertfordshire he might have suggested that she suspend her analysis of him, but here there can be no delay in setting her right about her misconceptions. This seems to have nothing to do with alerting her to possible danger from Wickham, himself. If that was what concerned him, warning her before he left the county and not just before the militia might be expected to decamp from Meryton, would have been more suitable. No, the letter is about justifying himself, correcting her misestimation of himself.

In his letter, he also gives powerful testimony as to the state of his feelings, referring to the "utmost force of passion" that was present in his case but, he believed, missing from Bingley's.

Darcy must have spent the interval while Elizabeth was reading his letter in telling Col. Fitzwilliam that he had shared the secret of Wickham and Georgiana's attempted elopement with her because the colonel remains at the parsonage long after Darcy has left, presumably by Darcy's request so that he might testify to the veracity of Darcy's narrative regarding Wickham. I can imagine how difficult such a disclosure and request must be for one of Darcy's character, rather secretive and independent.

Darcy then returns to town, presumably intending to never see Elizabeth again, similar to his departure from Hertfordshire. Thus begins the second long gap in interaction between the two of them — 116 days this time. This would have been the season in town and we can infer engagements for Darcy enough to occupy him though, again, he did not become romantically involved with anyone despite, we can assume, many opportunities.

Reunion in Derbyshire

They do not meet again until Volume 3, Chapter 43 when the Gardiners take Elizabeth to Derbyshire and tour Pemberley. When he arrives home early and encounters her on the grounds, he immediately approaches her, despite his being travel worn and her visiting as a tourist, either of which would have excused him ignoring them. She is uncomfortable with the meeting.

"Nor did he seem much more at ease; when he spoke, his accent had none of its usual sedateness; and he repeated his enquiries as to the time of her having left Longbourn, and of her stay in Derbyshire, so often, and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke the distraction of his thoughts."

So we see, despite the interval that has passed, he is still interested in her. Not time, distance nor the manner of their parting has abated his feeling. Then, when conversation fails, he leaves them and the Gardiners and Lizzy move on to admire more of the grounds. Darcy, who presumably washed and dressed, soon rejoins them, asks to be introduced to the Gardiners and makes every civility toward them.

One particular part of this civility deserves special note: His invitation to Mr. Gardiner to come fish, offering both equipment and to show him all the best spots.

I have known many fishermen in my life, and one of the similarities is their unwillingness to reveal their favorite fishing spots. As Darcy has newly arrived from town, one would assume ready to take up his rustic occupations, of which I take fishing as a chief one, offering free rein of his favorite spots to a just-met acquaintance truly is remarkable.

But we see his motivation, as when Mr. Gardiner takes him up on it, he spends only a little while with him and the fish and soon returns to the house when he discovers that Elizabeth is visiting with the ladies.

Darcy seizes the opportunity to walk with her, tell her that her acquaintances (Bingley and his sisters) will join him tomorrow and to ask for her permission to introduce his sister to her. In this, we can see his activity in securing her company for however long she might remain in Derbyshire.

In Chapter 44 we see perhaps the most striking example of Darcy's ardor: On the very same day Georgiana arrives at Pemberley following what was probably a three- or four-day journey from town, he takes her to Lambton to call on Elizabeth.

This speaks to Darcy, not wishing to waste a moment of Elizabeth's stay, not even letting his beloved sister rest before getting in the carriage to travel the five miles to Lambton. When he had spoken with Elizabeth, the plan they had agreed to was that he would bring her the day after, but it seemed Darcy's affection could not stand the wait.

We can be sure that the visit was not Georgiana's idea. It was likely she was mortified, calling ahead of when they were expected and during the time when the Gardiners and Elizabeth were supposed to be dressing to dine out. No wonder Elizabeth couldn't get more than a monosyllable out of her! And they stayed for more than a half-hour when a quarter-hour would have been the usual polite interval for such a call.

In this visit, it seems Darcy let others do most of the speaking but impressed Elizabeth with his friendliness:

"Never, even in the company of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free from self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could result from the success of his endeavors, and when even the acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were addressed would draw down the ridicule and censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and Rosings."

We see in this Darcy's resolution to act differently than he had before, to change Elizabeth's opinion of him by active effort. His attachment had grown stronger over their separation as a result of their frank exchange of views. Real emotional connection is succeeding the false, and is consequently more potent.

In this meeting, he uses his sister to further his aims by having her invite the party to dine at Pemberley the day after the next.

The next morning, Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth called on Georgiana. This visit provokes the crowning unpleasantness of Caroline's campaign against Elizabeth — her reference to the militia, hoping to discomfit Elizabeth by bringing Wickham to mind. Caroline does not recognize how this backfires in making Darcy and Georgiana uncomfortable and carries on with this strategy after the visitors are gone, provoking a harsh rebuke from Darcy: "'Yes,' replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, 'but that was only when I first knew her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.'"

Reprimanding a guest like this was another move that pushed the boundaries of propriety, showing again the depths of Darcy's feeling as well as his strengthening regard for Elizabeth.

Lydia's Elopement

The next day — without any pre-arrangement — Darcy takes himself to Lambton to call on Elizabeth. He discovers her exceedingly distressed by having received news of Lydia's elopement with Wickham. Again we see the strength of his attachment: "'Good God! what is the matter?' cried he, with more feeling than politeness..." (Chapter 46).

He draws out her account then excuses himself without giving any assurance of his continuing regard or the plan that he then executes. One wonders if he was too overcome by Elizabeth's upset or simply required more time to think of his next steps.

But he must make up his mind quickly for the next day he departs for London, a mere four days after his arrival after a three- to four-day journey!

Another note of timing: He departs on Saturday, which means that he either traveled on Sunday, which we remember from Persuasion was considered impious. An examination of the timeline does not show he did so at any other point in the book, or he was so eager to be away that he traveled for one day, rested on the Sabbath and then proceeded on his way. In either case, it is yet more evidence of powerful feelings.

From here, Darcy pours himself into locating Wickham, not sparing himself any pains including contacting Mrs. Younge, whom he must have dismissed without a character after the elopement incident, and presumably bribing her for intelligence on the couple's whereabouts.

We cannot be sure how much of Darcy's motivation here was guilt about not having made Wickham's character known in Meryton or hopes of saving Elizabeth's family from reputational ruin. But the timeline of events points to a great deal of haste. Within a handful of days he has discovered them, bribed Wickham into marrying with Lydia, bought a common license (the timeline does not allow for the reading of banns) and persuaded Lydia to remove to the Gardiners' home in preparation for marrying.

We know that he asked the Gardiners to not reveal his part in managing Lydia's marriage to Elizabeth, so there is no overt motive there as we might expect a desperate person to want to involve the gratitude of their intended. Is it just him trying to be the new-and-improved Darcy?

Our dear couple remain parted until Chapter 53 when Bingley returns to Hertfordshire with Darcy. They call at Longbourn very soon after arriving and Elizabeth is disappointed that Darcy scarcely seems to look at her, instead focusing on Jane.

Here we can conjecture that Darcy is deciding whether or not to rescind his advice to Bingley against offering for Jane. A half-hour's visit seems to not be enough for Darcy to make up his mind for when he and Bingley dine at Longbourn that Tuesday, Bingley is still guarded in his expressions toward Jane while Darcy is aloof. My interpretation is that he feels he has yet to make amends for the harm he did to Elizabeth in parting Jane and Bingley and is avoiding the possible pain of further refusal.

But the very next day, Darcy confesses to Bingley, who swiftly moves to begin courting Jane, coming to dinner on Friday and becoming engaged to her on Saturday.

Darcy's returning to town at this junction is to me another sign of high feelings. He seems convinced that Elizabeth dislikes him and is protecting himself from her by removing himself from her vicinity. Or maybe he could not bear to see his friend's romance when he felt he had blighted his own prospects.

Then unfolds possibly the most ironic part of the novel: Lady Catherine's attempted interference which ends in bringing the two together. Assured by his aunt's diatribe that Elizabeth is not set against him, he quickly returns to Netherfield. He and Bingley call on Longbourn, and Darcy and Elizabeth walk out together, giving them space for the second proposal.

Darcy's response to Elizabeth's thanking him for rescuing Lydia is enlightening:

"'I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,' replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, 'that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.'"

- Volume 3, Chapter 58

I think that what Darcy worried about was that Elizabeth would see his interference as an attempt to obligate her towards himself. He did not want her in gratitude but only in genuine affection.

Then the re-proposal:

"'You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.'"

The key here is that his affections and wishes are unchanged. He may have struggled to admit to himself that his need for her was more important than his desire to surround himself with propriety, but her rejection, months of separation and the travail of dealing with Wickham and Lydia did not alter his feelings.

To me, this speaks of a powerful, lasting passion, the sort that he had never experienced before and never anticipated experiencing again.

This is underscored by the rest of their conversation. He blames himself for every part of their misunderstandings, assures her that she was right to think ill of him and even obliquely criticizes his own parents in their rearing of him, which was almost unheard of in this era of familial obligation.

"'Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You shewed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.'"

This is a microcosm of his evolution, how falling in love with her and earning her just wrath made him rethink everything about himself and set to reforming himself in order to be worthy of her.

Chapter 60 gives us further clarity into Darcy's frame of mind and feelings. She wonders how he became attracted to her, saying that it obviously wasn't her looks and asked if it was her impertinence. He replies that he admired her liveliness of mind and further, her care of Jane at Netherfield. Admirable traits and ones that we can see inviting a real attachment of feeling.

He then confesses that his motive in returning to Hertfordshire: "My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me."

So if there was an emotional bond, he believed that it was only on his side, that none of his actions up to that point had been efficacious in making her return his affections.

My take

Only in the last year was I exposed to the idea of demisexuality. When I did, I experienced an immediate recognition and feeling of belonging.

But in going through my writing, I discover that I had projected my own notion of demisexuality onto Darcy for many years.

It had always been my head canon that Darcy's fastidious manner toward the opposite sex was in part a reaction to Wickham's attitude and behavior. Further, he idolized the relationship between his father and mother, which has led him to disdain less formal sexual arrangements in his own case.

In the very first chapter of my first D&E fic, "I Will Have You," Darcy pauses during his preparations to kidnap Elizabeth post-refusal to think:

"Elizabeth’s fervent refusal haunted him. Her certainty, her strength of will highlighted her disinterest. His fantasies about their life together, already strong, became doubly potent, the only reality that mattered. She was the only woman who could look him in the eye and see him for himself. Life without that would be a meaningless farce."

Once they are onboard a ship bound for Guernsey, he has leisure for self-reprimand:

"His once-cherished dreams of Elizabeth's constant companionship at Pemberley were dashed by his newfound resolution to give her as much privacy as she desired. So strong had those dreams been in Kent that he had found them appearing in his conversation with her. They felt so real as he spoke of her future — their future — with her."

Here I portray a man who had deluded himself that he enjoyed mutual, unspoken affection, devastated to learn that he had fooled himself.

In "First Night at Netherfield" (one of my few canon-compliant stories), Darcy reflects on Elizabeth:

"The following day he found himself drawn into the idea of her studying his character. He felt at once desirous of her so focused upon him, but singularly self-conscious of her doing so.

He found himself unaccountably jealous of Bingley. Her arch observations upon him were not such as he wanted her to levy against himself, but he nonetheless resented that they were Bingley’s portion. He feared he had made a fool of himself in his display for Miss Elizabeth’s benefit, attempting to match her playfulness, much against his own habit."

Any infatuated person might be jealous of their crush's attention, but here Darcy is particularly desirous of having her examining eye upon his inner being. He wishes her to know him, longs for the intimacy of her mind containing an accurate sketch of his character.

In my first novel, A Teasing Courtship, Elizabeth accepts his proposal (planning to make it a torment before jilting him) and reveals that Jane has feeling poorly:

"Darcy felt a tremor of fear at her words.

'Why is your sister out of spirits?' he asked.

She stopped sewing and looked up at him.

'Do you truly not understand, Mr. Darcy? Her heart is broken. She was abandoned by one dear to her and whom she hoped would become dearer still.'

The tremor became a spike of pain as conscience smote him. He had been so sure that Miss Bennet cared nothing for Bingley. Sure enough to fuel vehement assurances.

That Elizabeth said that it was otherwise, that her sister’s affections had been thoroughly engaged, that she suffered for abandonment — it was terrible."

Here we see Darcy's fear response at coming to understand that he had misunderstood something close to Elizabeth's heart — the state of her beloved sister's affections. The realization that he had misjudged and imperiled the understanding between them (he did not know that Elizabeth knew his part in parting them) was terrifying to him.

In “Claiming Her Rights," in which a compromise leads Darcy to marry Elizabeth, she discovers his discomfort with intimacy without assurance of mutual regard. Even before their unfortunate encounter in the Netherfield library, he is wishing for intimacy with her in particular:

"He could find no rest for his thoughts of her. When he closed his eyes she was before him, her brilliant eyes fixed upon his, a delicious smile upon her lips. In both he found invitation into the mysteries of the female person, eschewed until now in large part thanks to Wickham’s example. But in Elizabeth, he found a holy fire of desire, sanctified by mutual regard."

Now, armed with a fuller understanding, I have drafted something yet more pointed in my newest Patreon story, "Lettered." In this story, when Darcy attempts to give Lizzy his letter, he suffers second thoughts which lead to a display of ungentlemanlike behavior on his part. They return to Longbourn and become engaged.

This dialogue is from a private conversation where Lizzy is attempting to make out his motivations:

"Is it that you do not think of me as a gentlewoman, though I am a gentleman's daughter?" she asked.

He shook his head, confounded by the remnant of his vigorous nod, catching his neck awkwardly.

"Then why?" she demanded.

"I don't know," he confessed, ashamed to stay so long silent and yet have nothing to say.

"Has such a thing ever happened before?" she inquired.

His head shook violently.

"No," he cried.

She put her finger before her lips meaningfully, her eyes rebuking him. He quailed.

"Do you mean that you have never felt this way or that you have never done that to another woman?" she persisted.

His neck cracked with how suddenly he shook his head.

"Not ever, neither," he whispered adamantly.

"But I cannot be the first you've liked," she probed, disbelieving.

His nod was emphatic.

She looked at him incredulously.

"But Miss Bingley said you have spent many seasons in town," she objected.

"Six," he agreed.

"Surely you met with many agreeable ladies," she asserted.

He shrugged.

"You liked none of them?" she asked, aghast.

"I— I..." Darcy attempted but could not find speech until he had struggled some moments.

"I had deciding that they were romancing when they spoke of attraction," he admitted. "Because they had read it in a novel, not because they actually felt it."

Here I depict Darcy as certain that romantic attraction is make-believe, never having experienced it for himself until he was overwhelmed by it in getting to know Elizabeth.

It is that contrast, going from total assurance that he understood everything to loss of control and panic at realizing that he was subject to passion beyond his command that I believe is at the heart of his character arc.

Reflections

Being allosexual is so much a given in our culture that demisexuality has led to my feeling rather alienated from most people's experiences. A simple, "Isn't that person hot?" by a friend can lead to my staring, puzzled by the question and cutting myself off from replying, "They're bilaterally symmetrical but I'm not attracted to them" because that's a hell of a conversation killer.

I am in the odd position of not even being attracted to the actors who play the characters I adore (yes, I know it's heresy to not be attracted to Firth or Macfadyen). I am very invested in their relationships with their counterparts, but their appearance and acting has nothing to do with my sexual feeling about them.

I have rarely encountered a fictional character who incited such powerful reactions in me as Darcy has (this is evident by how much I've tortured him in my stories, sometimes literally).

For me, Darcy not only stands for monied, male white privilege but the luxury of holding oneself apart from one's fellow human beings, judging them as if from on high.

It is easy for demisexuals, in my experience, to look down on allosexuals as having a lesser sexual experience. In all honesty, of their being closer to bestiality than to union with an equal.

That judgment is something that I have struggled with for much of my adult life, and I believe is what Darcy had to come to terms with in coming to terms to his being in love with Elizabeth. Loving her was messy: He knew that her family would forever be drawing him into their drama. In rescuing Lydia, he not only rescued Elizabeth, herself, from reputational ruin but proved to himself that he could dive into the filth of Wickham's mess and come out clean in his own opinion.

This is a powerful example of coming to accept the world on its own terms while holding fast to one's own concept of self, of learning to let go of what is peripheral while retaining that which is truly important.

In the end, while I admit that it is impossible to properly prove that Austen had any particular understanding of Darcy's sexuality, I believe that there is sufficient proof to support my reading of the text.

I am very interested to hear what you think. Please chime in with your take in the comments!

Thank you for your attention. I'll see you in the comments! Looking forward to continuing the discussion and hearing your thoughts

Sources

Pride & Prejudice timeline: https://pemberley.com/janeinfo/ppchron.html

Pride & Prejudice text: https://pemberley.com/janeinfo/ppv1n01.html

Links/summaries of my works: https://kaurifish.net/

Want more?

I explore the possibilities in Pride & Prejudice, focused primarily on the relationship between Darcy and Elizabeth. My stories generally start with a single divergence from canon such as a different decision made (ex. in "I Will Have You," Darcy deciding to kidnap Elizabeth rather than accept her refusal) and explore that possibility as much within the constraints of canon and the historical reality of the time as I'm able.

I am a self-published author and have published three novels:

A Teasing Courtship

A Darkness in Hertfordshire

A Secret Understanding

And Each Time They Might Have: Kissed, a collection of 16 short stories about first kisses between Our Dear Couple.

My next release will be On Bended Knees — Each Time They Might Have: Groveled, a short story collection featuring Darcy begging for forgiveness.

Find me:

On Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/kaurifish

On Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/c/kaurifish

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaurifish/works

On FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/~kaurifish

Thank you for your attention! See you in the Discord and the comments.