Compromise and Obligation: A Darcy and Elizabeth Pride and Prejudice Regency Variation

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Compromise and Obligation: A Darcy and Elizabeth Pride and Prejudice Regency Variation Page 3

by Harriet Knowles


  She wished she had someone to talk to, someone outside the family, someone who could advise her. She already knew inside what her answer must be. But she could not say so, not now. She must prevaricate for a while, go for a walk, organise her arguments.

  “Father, I know what you and Mama say must be done. But may I go for a walk? I must think on these things.”

  “Of course, my dear. I know it is a big decision for you.”

  Her mother shot her a look of dislike. “I do not see it! You must know where your duty lies. Mr. Collins has decided that you will make him a most suitable wife, and it therefore follows that you must do your duty to the family and accept him.” She waved her hand angrily at her daughter.

  “I know what you are intending! You are planning that while you try and avoid the decision, Mr. Collins will become angry and say he will not have you! I will not allow you to do that, Lizzy! You are an obstinate girl. And you would not dance with him when he wished it last night!”

  “Mama! I have the marks on my feet where he trod on them from the dances I gave him!” Elizabeth could not prevent herself coming to her own defence.

  “Oh, well. But I could see you trying to avoid him the rest of the night.”

  Elizabeth ignored her, and turned to her father. “May I go for a walk, Papa? You might tell Mr. Collins that I wish to contemplate the right decision about this if it will make Mama feel better.”

  “You may go, with my blessing, Lizzy.” Mr. Bennet also ignored Mrs. Bennet, who made a sound of frustration.

  Chapter 6

  Elizabeth climbed the hill, trying to get away from the house as quickly as she could. Jane had come to her room while she was getting her coat and hat.

  “Oh, Lizzy! You must refuse him! I know you do not love him. How can Papa even think about asking you to agree?”

  Elizabeth turned to Jane. “But you have seen Father is ill. What will become of the family if I refuse?”

  Jane looked sad. She seemed not to be able to summon a reply, and Elizabeth had kissed her briefly.

  “I must go out for a walk and think about what is to be done.”

  Now she was away from the house. Now she could think. Her heart beat faster. Could she make this choice? She had the means by which to escape if she decided to refuse to marry. None of her family had any idea about that. They would know a young lady alone could not leave her home without the most severe risks to her virtue, or even her life.

  Even her habit of walking alone in the woodlands and fields around Meryton was only tolerated, rather than accepted. But dressed as a man, she would hope to be able to get further away and somehow find sanctuary.

  She walked for some time, and then, to her consternation, found herself close to Netherfield. She stopped, surprised at herself, for she’d never walked that way in her wanderings — only that one occasion, to visit Jane.

  She sat herself on a fallen log, hidden at the edge of the trees, and watched the house. She was not accustomed to dissemble in her own thoughts and she acknowledged openly to herself why her steps had taken her this way.

  Despite her previously held opinions of the gentleman, the previous evening had swayed those opinions toward an improvement. Mr. Darcy had been gravely interested in her difficulties, had assisted her. More importantly, he had understood what challenges she might face from her parents in opposing them.

  Had she come here to ask for his advice? Or even his assistance?

  She could hardly do that. She shook her head, of course she could not possibly do that. But her instinct had drawn her here. And she sat in a stupor of sorrow for her lost future at Longbourn with her family.

  Whether she married Mr. Collins or ran away, her life here with her family around her was over in a way she would never have chosen.

  A movement caught her eye. Two coaches were drawing up outside the main steps of the house before her. There was bustling and much carrying of trunks and boxes as they were loaded up.

  She sat watching, lethargic with fatigue. A week previously, she would have watched with interest, remembering the details to tell Jane. But today, she felt already detached, already lost to her sister.

  She wondered who was leaving Netherfield, supposing them to be going to London. Two coaches — they must all be going, the whole party. And so it proved. Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were in one coach and Bingley also climbed in, after speaking a final moment to Mr. Darcy, who nodded soberly, and climbed into his own coach.

  She watched as they left. Perhaps Mr. Darcy was going north to Pemberley, or perhaps he liked to travel alone.

  But, wherever he was going, she had lost all chance of gaining his assistance, if she had even owned the possibility before this.

  As the coach drove away, she saw his face at the window, gazing up at the woods.

  She sighed. It was nice to dream of the impossible, that he might stop and leap from the coach. That he might place her within and have her taken straight to her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in London, and that they would take her side and forbid the marriage to go ahead.

  She shook her head and sighed. Such dreams were always impossible. No, he had been looking at the woods, but he could not possibly have seen her. Now he was not even in the country and she must be reliant only on herself. She shook the melancholy from herself. She had always known it.

  She sat there, mulling over what she had to do. She must make do with her brown lace boots. Men’s shoes would not be obtainable without arousing suspicion. She would take a spare dress or two — it would be expected of a young lady who was travelling. In fact, if she took her old white one, she could tear that up to make a binding for her bosom.

  She smiled, it might be hard to hide her womanly figure. But it had to be done. There was no way to travel as a woman alone.

  She almost wished Meryton wasn’t so small. If she went to any of her friends, they wouldn’t be able to hide her from her determined family.

  Elizabeth stood up. It was long past the lunch hour, and the family would be wondering where she was. She must not arouse suspicions.

  As she walked home, she pondered on the best way to act this afternoon and evening. She could tell him that she would give him her answer in the morning, or she might intimate to them all that she was going to agree to be engaged.

  She stumbled over a tree root and gasped. She must not injure herself before she began.

  With rather more care, she continued to walk. Perhaps she didn’t have to go just yet. She could be engaged to Mr. Collins, stay at home, where everything was familiar and safe. On the wedding day, she could stand up in the church and say “no”, instead of “I do”.

  She smiled at the very thought. The humiliation would certainly send him packing. Then she stopped a moment. If she did that, she could spend the time in trying to gain a position as a governess or a companion.

  There was no other employment she would be able to do. But if she found somewhere to go, she would be able to leave the family with her head held high. She doubted life at Longbourn would be comfortable once her parents understood that she would not marry Mr. Collins.

  Chapter 7

  As she arrived back at Longbourn, she saw her father at the door and realised he had been anxious that she would not return. She smiled, had he thought she would throw herself on the kindliness and friendship of Charlotte Lucas, ask her for sanctuary? She could hardly risk a rift between the two families in this small community.

  “Hello, Papa. I have had a lovely walk.”

  “I’m glad, Lizzy. Come into my library, please.”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  Once they were sitting in the comfortable chairs with the door shut, her father looked at her sadly.

  “You are minded to refuse him, are you not, Lizzy?”

  “Why do you think that, Father?”

  He laughed mirthlessly. “I’ve known you for twenty years, Lizzy. Give me some credit for that.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “May I sit down, Papa?” />
  He waved his hand tiredly at the chair opposite, and she sat carefully on the edge of it.

  “Do you feel very ill, Papa?”

  “I do.” His voice was resigned. “It doesn’t appear to trouble anyone else, but I have to admit it is frightening me. Five daughters, all unmarried. And none of you trained to earn a living.” He shook his head sadly. “And you are the daughters of a gentleman. You should not have to earn your living.”

  He leaned forward. “It will all be solved if Mr. Collins marries you, Lizzy.” He reached out to her. “Mrs. Bennet, Jane, you, Mary, Kitty and Lydia. You will all be secure for the rest of your lives.” His voice was almost pleading.

  She looked at her hands, folded calmly in her lap. “You know what you are asking, don’t you?”

  He nodded, sadly. “But you have spirit, Lizzy. You have the wit and intelligence to make your life so that Collins is in it as little as possible.”

  He pushed himself to his feet and stood over her. “Lizzy, I hate to have to speak to you like this, because you already know what I have to say.” He looked at her over the top of his spectacles. “But it is your duty, Lizzy. It is your duty to accept Mr. Collins to ensure the security of the family and to provide for them in a way I cannot do. I must insist that you accept Mr. Collins’ proposal.”

  Elizabeth stared at him. She had been expecting those words, but still the shock was immense. Since she was a small girl, she had relied on her father to take her side, teach her about the world, treat her almost like the son they had both wanted above all else.

  He had guided her education, valued her freedom of thought, and been delighted at her conversation. Now he spoke of duty, the obligation on her as a daughter to be obedient, to be dutiful and to marry for expediency, not for love.

  But such a man as Mr. Collins! For the rest of her life she would be tied to a man whose words and actions were as embarrassing as those of her mother. And she would have to allow her mother to live with them at Longbourn. The whole idea was intolerable.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes, but she opened them again when her father made an annoyed sound.

  “You have to do this, Lizzy. Don’t think about it too much. You must agree that it’s your duty and just accept it. It will be less painful that way.”

  She looked at him. What did he know of the pain he was asking? Of course he was unhappy in his marriage, but he had chosen his wife — it was later that he lived to regret it.

  “I understand, Papa.” She got to her feet, smoothing her skirt down. Her smile twisted a little. “I suppose it’s my punishment for not being the son you needed.”

  He grimaced. “I am very sorry, Lizzy. Very sorry.”

  He pushed himself to his feet. “You will accept, then? I am afraid I have already promised you to him.”

  She nodded, silently. He must feel really ill, or he would never have believed her acquiescence so easily. But he believed it because he wanted to. Mr. Collins and the rest of the family would believe it too. To them it was the answer, not the problem. Once she was married, all their troubles would be over.

  She would be left with the problem. Such a problem. She stood up straight. But now was not the time. She must play her part, the part of a dutiful daughter. She could do this, knowing she had her escape.

  Her father rang the bell. “Send Mr. Collins in please, Hill,” he told the housekeeper when she answered.

  “Yes, sir.” The woman curtsied.

  Soon Mr. Collins entered. His expression was haughty but his smile was triumphant.

  Elizabeth’s heart sank. She had almost hoped that Mr. Collins would have been so offended at her initial refusal that he would now refuse to marry any of them.

  Mr. Collins ignored her, and bowed to his host. “Mr. Bennet.”

  “I wish to be the first to congratulate you on your engagement, sir.” Mr. Bennet knew the irony of his tone would be lost on the younger man. But not on Elizabeth.

  Mr. Collins turned to Elizabeth. “Cousin Elizabeth!” his expression was predatory and smug.

  She pushed away her disgust and smiled brightly at him. As she’d thought, he didn’t notice that her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She curtsied. “Mr. Collins.”

  “You have made a most fortunate and wise decision, Cousin Elizabeth!” Mr. Collins was delighted at his achievement.

  “Indeed, sir.” Elizabeth could not muster the enthusiasm to pretend she was even content with the thought and could most assuredly not show happiness.

  “Please excuse me, sir, I would wish to share the news with my sister Jane.”

  “Of course you do! Of course you do, my dear young cousin!” he bowed effusively.

  “But we should share the news with the whole family. Let us go through to the drawing room together.” He seized her hand and she suppressed a shudder of revulsion. But she allowed herself to be led through to the drawing room where the whole family sat waiting.

  There were tears in Jane’s eyes as she embraced her. “My beloved sister, I cannot believe you have agreed to this.” Her whisper was just for Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth kept her eyes cast down as Mr. Collins stood and extolled the virtues of the coming marriage as being a fortunate blessing to all the family and a union of the two families to the advantage of all.

  Except me, Elizabeth thought rebelliously. But let him have his evening of pleasure, it would change soon enough.

  As she sat beside Jane, trying not to listen to her mother’s cries of pleasure and talk endlessly of wedding clothes, Jane passed her a letter.

  “I received this letter today from Miss Bingley.” Her eyes were downcast. “It seems that the whole party is gone to London, without any plans to return to the country at all.”

  “Oh, Jane!” Elizabeth was taken out of her own sorrows for a moment. She wanted to encourage her sister to keep hoping for a different outcome, but her own sadness was such that she was quite downcast.

  “Do not be concerned for me, dear Lizzy,” Jane whispered. “I am much more concerned for you. I cannot believe you are doing the right thing for yourself, even if it pleases our parents.” She touched her hand. “Are you sure it is the right thing to do?”

  Elizabeth forced a smile. “Indeed it is, Jane. I would not see the family destitute. And Father will be easier in his mind.”

  She felt herself to be a wicked liar because, of course, her actions tonight would see the family destitute eventually. She wished most profoundly that Mr. Bingley had made an offer to Jane and that he would, to make her happy, take on the responsibility for the Bennet family.

  But her own actions were settled. She would not be obliged by any actions of omission of her parents. If they had made proper provision for the fortunes of their daughters, then advantageous marriages would have been much easier for all of them.

  She sat, letting the noise wash over her. It was another task she had to undertake this evening. She must write a note to Mr. Collins, and another to Jane. She must ensure that they were in no doubt that she was breaking her betrothal. Otherwise Mr. Collins remained obliged to her, and therefore he would have to search for her. She would not have that. The letter to Jane would ensure that her father and Mr. Collins did not destroy theirs to pretend that she was still betrothed.

  At last, the evening was over. Elizabeth ate a heavy meal, she did not know where her next would come from. Suddenly, it all seemed real. It was now.

  Chapter 8

  Darcy got up from the table after dinner. The other gentlemen, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Hurst and Colonel Fitzwilliam, rose with him and they went to join the ladies.

  A part of him wished he was still at Netherfield. He had spent the day thinking of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, wondering what was happening at Longbourn.

  He despised the family, had watched the appalling behaviour of the mother and the youngest daughter, listened to the tuneless song and mechanical playing of the middle daughter. He shuddered.

  The father had been totally remiss in not making prope
r provision for the daughters. He might not be able to help his estate being entailed, but a true gentleman would have made investments, purchased property, done whatever was necessary to secure the future of his wife and daughters.

  His lip curled. Instead, he had sired daughter after daughter, carelessly hoping for a son, who would, in his turn have had to support a family of his own and all his sisters. It was insupportable, ungentlemanly.

  A larger part of him was glad they had travelled to London. He must forget Miss Elizabeth Bennet, must not concern himself with the misery of another family. There were so many families, so much misery. Already he was helping many of the families of his staff. A sick child needed a doctor. A wife needed expensive medicines. A tenant’s leaking roof needed to be repaired. And most of all, a fair wage for the hard work he expected of his staff. It was enough. The Bennet family were not his concern.

  “Mr. Darcy! Why I declare you are not listening to me again!” It was Miss Caroline Bingley. He sighed. This was his home, his London residence, and thankfully, Miss Bingley was leaving after the coffee with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst to stay with them for a few weeks. He was most pleased. He could manage to be polite for the next hour.

  He bowed. “Miss Bingley, I do apologise. I was thinking of matters on the estate.” He had a thought, he must bore her. “I have a gardener with a sick child. I have paid for the apothecary to visit and I was wondering what their opinion was.”

  “Oh, Mr. Darcy!” she gushed. “You are so good to your staff. It is certainly why they are so loyal to you.” She crossed to him, pawing at him. “But you trouble yourself too much on their behalf. If they cannot work for you, there are always more to engage.”

  He drew back from her. “Indeed.” There was no point arguing with her.

  He turned to his sister. “Will you play for us, Georgiana?”

 

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