'Perhaps,' said Darcy, 'I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.' 'Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?' said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. 'Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?' 'I can answer your question,' said Fitzwilliam, 'without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.'

Once again, Elizabeth does not buy his excuse for even a single second. She's fully aware of all the advantages a man such as he will have received in society (opportunities not open to women, might I add!) and draws attention to that fact. It's a brilliant, cutting line from her and she really set that one up for Colonel Fitzwilliam to deliver the knockout blow.

Not only do we have the testimony of Mr Darcy's cousin, that 'he will not give himself the trouble,' to appear cordial to strangers, but we have evidence from Wickham too. Although after this statement, Wickham quickly goes onto misrepresent Darcy's kindness to the poor, which contradicts Mrs Reynold's later testimony, I do believe Wickham to be telling the truth (for once!) here, when he tells Elizabeth in Chapter 16:

'Mr Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while.'

Which, again, demonstrates that Darcy is capable when he wants to be. That is the crucial point. Autistic people fundamentally lack the ability to understand social cues, they cannot turn it on and off as they please because they are snobs.

So, now we come to the infamous line about Darcy's supposed social struggles, and I hope that I've provided enough context to the line to make you see that it should not be taken at face value:

'I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,' said Darcy, 'of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.' 'My fingers,' said Elizabeth, 'do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault—because I will not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.'

Again, Elizabeth is not buying his excuses for even a single second and tells him if he feels like that, maybe he should put the effort in. She has seen him in numerous social settings and been thoroughly unimpressed with his behaviour which, when you consider his rudeness to her at the Meryton assembly, she has every right to be.

So, what do I make of the line?

Well, I think it's abundantly clear that Darcy absolutely can speak to people when he wants to. Perhaps, in his mind, he struggles to make that deeper connection and make friends easily. But making friends is not always easy, it's a process you must invest time and effort into. If you do not do that, it stands to reason that you will struggle. Plus, if you hold others to ridiculous standards (as Darcy does) without recognising and fixing the flaws within yourself, you're not going to have deep, lasting friendships.

While this quote may appear to be a moment of vulnerability where he does confess a fault of his, which is astounding given his pride, personally I do not think it was not a soul-searching exercise. It was to make Elizabeth stop grilling him. It was self-serving. Although, I don't think he's entirely lying. Darcy is veeeery careful with his words and though this statement is not considered and perhaps comes out rather abruptly, it doesn't necessarily follow that it isn't true. I can imagine that it is probably something he's felt for a while, yet it is a rather desperate attempt to defend himself from a woman who sees right through him.

I think perhaps Darcy does realise that he isn't as naturally gifted as other men he knows (such as Wickham, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Bingley) when it comes to forming acquaintances. However, he looks outwards and turns that bitterness against the world rather than looking inwards, reflecting upon himself and improving his manners which would be the correct thing to do. Thankfully, he later does this, but it took him twenty eight years...

In addition, Darcy appeared to have been under the illusion that he could coast by on Pemberley's reputation... which has always worked... until he met Elizabeth. For perhaps the first time, he encounters a woman who is not awestruck by him and his reputation and delivers the rebuke that he always needed.

So, while personally I'm inclined to believe there is some truth to his statement, as Mr Darcy is many things but he isn't a liar, I think it is said in desperation. His feeling stems from him knowing what he should do, but he can't be bothered to enact it... rather than any inherent social deficiency stemming from being neurodivergent.

Although, even if he does struggle socially, it's still no excuse for the rudeness he displayed to Elizabeth! My main issue with neurodivergent readings of Darcy is when they are deployed to defend his behaviour, when they attribute his rudeness to any potential neurodivergency and when they excuse his laziness. That is an awful message! Autistic people who struggle with social cues often do not, nor should they, go around insulting others. They should and often do put plenty of effort into being considerate and polite. In fact, I think, if anything, a love of rules makes us more likely to have good manners, rather than the reverse.

It was not that his estate was unequal to the provision of such a number of scions, nor that they might run short of names for the little lads, John followed by James, then Thomas and Robert, the youngest having been christened and then immediately called Robin for the auburn hue of his few wisps of hair. The halls rang with the cries of the children and the staff rejoiced at the increasing size of the family, the tenant farmers exceedingly proud of Mr. Darcy’s evident virility. Georgiana, maiden aunt, was delighted to play with her nephews and Mrs. Bennet sent lengthy missives describing in breathless detail how she had let her neighbors know about four sons, more than any other family could hope, each sure to have at least ten thousand a year! If Jane, the mother of one pink-cheeked daughter, had concerns about her sister, her natural optimism and cheer forestalled any conversation, and there had not been a visit from the Gardiners since John’s birth.

It was Mrs. Reynolds who asked to speak with the master and Mrs. Reynolds who managed, with the delicacy of an accomplished housekeeper, to suggest Mrs. Darcy’s health might well be jeopardized by her conjugal duties, as the mistress seemed determined to fulfil the Biblical commandment as frequently as possible. Mr. Darcy, recalling his mother’s ill-health and the invalidism that had set in after Georgiana’s birth, was quick to assure Mrs. Reynolds that he would take all necessary precautions with Mrs. Darcy’s person.

Alone, in his study, he admitted to himself he was not sure what those must entail, for they were both young and extended celibacy appeared likely to make both of them deeply unhappy, but he had no interest in taking a mistress. If he had sought his wife’s counsel, he suspected she would wave off all cares and then entice him to her bed; she was apt to dismiss any worry about fatigue or weakness, teasing him for noting the relative pallor of her cheeks or the slowing of her gait as ungallantry that ill-became a gentleman, remarks she would expect from the ever-critical Miss Bingley. He applied to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, for advice, Charles Bingley too naïve to bear any similar conversation; a well-traveled military man, the Colonel grasped the dilemma and dispatched a solution with alacrity, proving his fondness for both Darcys with the lack of any accompanying witticism.

It remained to explain to Elizabeth, a task her husband did not anticipate with any gladness. While they had both grow accustomed to the marriage-bed and its rewards, they were not in the habit of discussion any aspects of their intimacy beyond the briefest inquiry like that or encouragement more, darling, again. Still, he had once undertaken to explain George Wickham’s infamy when Elizabeth had made it clear she loathed him, so Fitzwilliam Darcy told himself he must simply set out the situation in a few terms and all would surely be well.

“I don’t understand,” Elizabeth said.

“I must ensure your health, so we must make a small adjustment when I come to you,” he repeated, hoping she would somehow achieve full comprehension without additional explication.

“You already said that and I told you, I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean,” she said. She did not sound frustrated but her current bemusement might rapidly be replaced with annoyance.

“You conceive almost as soon as we resume our marital intimacy,” he managed to get out.

Elizabeth sighed ruefully.

“I know. My mother is overjoyed because they’re all boys. I’m sure she would be distraught if I’d given you nothing but girls,” she said.

“I shouldn’t be. I don’t want you thinking this has anything to do with that,” he said.

“I didn’t, but I appreciate the reassurance, Fitzwilliam,” she replied.

“Our nursery is full and more children—they only pose a risk to your health, if they come so quickly. Each time you enter your confinement, I am fearful you will not come through it,” he said. Candor was the only approach to take with her, no matter how awkward he found it.

“I’ve a strong constitution, sir—”

“Mrs. Reynolds brought it to my attention. I worry when you are delivered but she oversees her mistress in ways I cannot and she advised me to take better care of you,” he said.

“Oh, I see. I will admit I do not feel quite as I did when I was Miss Elizabeth, but I don’t see what there is to do about it. I may not be as pious as my sister Mary, but I believe these things are in God’s hands, are they not?”

“There is something we can do. That I can do, to prevent you getting with child,” he said.

“Truly?” Elizabeth sounded intrigued, not horrified.

“It’s little enough. There’s a way to make sure, when I—” here he raised an eyebrow and gave her a knowing look, waiting to see her eyes brighten in understanding, recalling how he might gasp her name in most rapturous extremis, “to keep you from conceiving.”

“Will you keep me in suspense?” she asked.

He reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and took out an item, unfolding it to show her.

“I would wear this, when we are together,” he said.

“You would wear that where exactly—” she broke off as the answer occurred to her, her blush in contrast to her more usual pale countenance only more evidence of the need for their conversation.

“Will it fit?” she said, making him chuckle in a curious mixture of relief and pride.

“It will, but I am flattered you would ask,” he said.

“Does it have a name?”

“It’s called a French letter,” he said, feeling the color rise in his cheeks, to speak to his gently-bred wife of matters ordinarily restricted to ladybirds.

“They are rather clever about these things, aren’t they?” she said.

“Lizzie!”

“You cannot exclaim at me now, sir. I had not appreciated how widely they excel in accessories,” she retorted.

“I—”

“I shall do you this favor—I shall not ask how you came to know about such things, who tutored you in this area. I shall assume the knowledge was given divinely, as the golden shower of Zeus or an angelic disquisition,” she said.

He laughed, half-choked by her irreverence, released from the fear that he must confess his cousin’s counsel, irrevocably altering the companionable ease that Colonel Fitzwilliam had enjoyed with every visit to Pemberley.

“Must you use these forever?” she asked.

“Why do you inquire?” he said.

“When the boys are a bit older, when we’ve all settled down a bit and they’ve grown and I’ve my strength back, I’d very much like to give them a sister,” she replied.

“That sounds splendid,” he said.

“Perhaps two. One sister with four brothers is likely to make for a very difficult Season,” Elizabeth said.

As it turned out, Sarah and Phoebe Darcy made for a very difficult Season for reasons entirely unanticipated by either of their parents, but their brothers, with the exception of Thomas, who cared primarily for mathematics, specifically Cauchy’s complex function theory, were untroubled.

Written for @janeuary-month Day 24 prompt "letters"