Mr Darcy's Proposal

by Martine Jane Roberts

  “And you decided to include me why?”

  Unlike Mr Bennet, Darcy oversaw every aspect of his life, as well as his sister’s. His assets and holding, his engagements and houses, Georgiana’s schooling and his finances, there was nothing he was not fully abreast of.

  Abhorred at the older man’s lack of interest in his family and their well-being, Darcy felt no compunction whatsoever in making his future father-in-law feel guilty.

  “Forgive me, sir, but you do intend to give your daughter away, do you not?”

  “Yes, of course,” said Mr Bennet.

  “Then at some stage, you will have to attend a wedding rehearsal, will you not?”

  “Yes, a rehearsal is what I expected, but as for any other arrangements I…”

  Darcy interrupted Mr Bennet mid-sentence.

  “Then I assume you also need to know the date, and the time of said rehearsal, as well as the actual wedding, sir. I understand as the head of the household, you will also need to oversee the number of carriages your family will have to hire, providing adequate stabling and accommodation for the wedding guests and their horses. Have you spoken to the local innkeeper to reserve any rooms? And I assume you have set aside a special fund for Mrs Bennet to draw on, to cover expenses?” Darcy began to reel off a list of items that Mrs Bennet would need the money for.

  “The wedding breakfast, flowers, additional servants, the Church and organist, the bell ringers, need I go on? Though, I believe Elizabeth’s trousseau, is one aspect of the arrangements the ladies would rather we left to them. I assume you did not expect Mrs Bennet to deal with all these arrangements single-handed?”

  Humiliated by his own neglect and ignorance, Mr Bennet felt the full force of Darcy’s contempt.

  Looking at his wife, a shamefaced Mr Bennet said,

  “I am at your disposal for the rest of the day, Mrs Bennet,” and for once in his life, he actually meant it.

  Looking down at Jane, Charles thought she had never looked lovelier than she did right now. The glow in her cheeks complimented the red bow of her cherry lips, as her blue eyes stared up at him adoringly.

  Having prepared no speech or fancy words, Charles Bingley made his proposal with words straight from the heart.

  Confident that Jane’s affection had not changed, Charles, dropped to one knee, took Jane’s hands in his own, and said,

  “Dear Miss Bennet…Jane, I can no longer deny the strength of my feelings for you. You are not only beautiful, but you are kind and considerate and caring. You are gentle and honest and loyal. You possess every attribute that is admired and desired by a man in his wife. You can be in no doubt as to my intentions since I arrived in Meryton. You alone possess my heart and my admiration, Jane. I have loved you since the very moment we met, and I wondered if you would do me the inestimable honour of agreeing to be my wife?”

  Jane had quite given up on ever seeing Mr Bingley ever again.

  After reading Caroline Bingley’s letter, which had arrived the day after they left Netherfield, Jane was sure the next time she heard Mr Bingley’s name was to read that he had married Georgiana Darcy. Miss Bingley had intimated as much in her letter, and why would she doubt the word of his sister. Miss Bingley had even gone on to explain that it was the dearest wish of both families to see the young couple united.

  Only now, Jane knew that it was a combination of spite and wishful thinking on Caroline’s behalf. Had Charles married Georgiana Darcy, Caroline had clearly hoped it would bring her one step closer to becoming Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy herself.

  Pushing the defects of her future sister-in-law’s character to the back of her mind, Jane said,

  “Oh, yes, I accept, with my all heart I accept.”

  Charles Bingley stood up, still holding Jane’s hands in his own, and raised her up with him. They shared a deep and meaningful look. One that spoke volumes without words. A future that promised to be full of love and happiness, bliss and adoration, longevity and contentment. Then, they exchanged their first, chaste kiss.

  Darcy and Elizabeth had left Mrs Bennet explaining to her captive husband, about all the extra work involved in planning a wedding, though with a slight exaggeration of the strain it was putting on her already fraught nerves.

  With Mr Bingley and Jane still closeted in the morning room, Darcy and Elizabeth found themselves again sitting in the music room.

  Besides the pianoforte and stool, there was a harp, which only Mary played, a violin and a flute hidden from view in a cabinet, which no-one played and a small table and several chairs.

  Darcy sat on the ornate chair again, which was still where he had left it, facing the pianoforte. Elizabeth once more sat on the piano stool.

  “Would you play for me, Elizabeth?” he asked.

  Though it was a request, Elizabeth felt compelled to oblige.

  Selecting a familiar piece of music, Elizabeth began to play.

  For the first few bars, Darcy sat and listened politely. Then, he rose from his seat and moved to stand in front of her, resting his arm on the instrument.

  Elizabeth felt a burst of heat rise up to stain her cheeks, as Darcy, unwavering in his gaze, scanned her face. His piercing blue eyes seemed to be absorbing every characteristic and trait of her features, committing them to memory.

  Her fingers moved effortlessly over the keys, and all the while, Darcy watched her. Soon, it became apparent to Elizabeth that Darcy had not asked her to play in order to admire her musical skills, but to admire her.

  At length, the piece came to an end, and Elizabeth rested her hands in her lap, again looking at Darcy.

  Darcy raised a single eyebrow and nodded towards the instrument.

  Apparently, Darcy had not yet finished with his observations. Selecting the next sheet down, Elizabeth resumed playing.

  Darcy straightened and came to stand at her side.

  His continued scrutiny was discomforting, and though she had often felt his constant gaze on her in the past, the duration and intensity of his inspection today were unnerving.

  Elizabeth thought he might join her on the piano stool, or perhaps choose another tune for her to play. Instead, he reached out a hand and cupped it around her neck.

  His hand felt warm against her soft skin, and she thought she might falter, but with determination, she played on.

  With a delicate touch, his fingers caressed the nape of her neck, moving up slowly to caress and explore the texture of her hair.

  Now, the intimacy of his touch did make Elizabeth falter, but she quickly recovered her fumble and resumed playing.

  As he continued to stroke her neck with his thumb, Darcy entwined his fingers ever deeper into her loose tendrils, feeling the softness of each curl with his fingers.

  Elizabeth became aware that her breathing felt constrained and her pulse had begun to race.

  As the piece came to an end and the last note died away, Elizabeth let her shaking fingers rest on the cold ivory keys.

  Soon, Elizabeth became aware of his warm breath on her, close enough to rouse the fine hairs that covered her skin.

  Drinking in her fragrance, Darcy began to smell Elizabeth. Her dress, her hair, her skin…her essence.

  Then, his voice low and barely audible, he whispered,

  “I’m sorry, Elizabeth.” His voice was thick with emotion.

  With her eyes firmly fixed forward, Elizabeth waited, expectantly.

  She had no doubt that he meant to kiss her now, but how?

  A chaste kiss as when she had first accepted his proposal? Or the savage assault he had inflicted on her a few days ago. Having only ever been kissed twice, they were Elizabeth’s only reference.

  From his position, Darcy reached out and took Elizabeth’s hand, raising her up and turning her to face him.

  Cupping her cheeks in his hands, Darcy brushed her still tender lips with his thumb, and quietly said,

  “Forgive me, Elizabeth?”

  With her face now only inches from his, Elizabeth closed
her eyes and surrendered to his apology.

  With her capitulation, Darcy lowered his head and placed a feather light kiss on her parted lips. It was a kiss of remorse, and regret and repentance, but it quickly changed to one of purpose and passion.

  As Elizabeth accepted his first kiss, Darcy knew she had forgiven him. Her soft, pliant lips remained motionless and unsure as he kissed her again.

  Darcy withdrew, and Elizabeth thought he had done with kissing her, but he had not.

  Tilting his head slightly, Darcy placed his lips only a hair's breadth from Elizabeth’s mouth, and then, as if in slow motion he teased her lips. Each time he pursed his mouth, and let his lips brush against her mouth, Elizabeth thought he was about to resume kissing her.

  After several teasing tastes of his mouth, Elizabeth found herself wanting to be kissed, longing to be kissed. Her bruised lips ached to be possessed, to be rewarded until finally she could bear it no more.

  As Darcy moved in to brush her lips again, Elizabeth leant in to meet him.

  It was strange, Elizabeth thought afterwards, to return a man’s kiss. It was more pleasurable than she had anticipated, and once she had learnt the rudiments, easily executed. Though the sensation seemed not confined to just her mouth. It had radiated through her whole body, alerting areas of her being to a yearning she had never experienced before. Of all Darcy’s kisses, this was the one she preferred. If each time they kissed it was as agreeable as this, she would not be unhappy.

  Darcy was overjoyed to have extracted a naïve response from his intended. Within a few minutes of coaxing, Elizabeth had learnt to return his kiss with a gentle, butterfly touch of her own. Slowly she overcame her shyness and relaxed her body against his as he lovingly caressed her mouth with his lips while softly stroking her back. He hoped this was a sign that Elizabeth’s opinion was thawing towards him, accepting of his love, and dare he hope, a budding of her own love?

  Darcy stroked Elizabeth’s cheek, about to resume their activity, when the shrill voice of Lydia resonated through the house, demanding to be allowed downstairs.

  The mood was broken, and reluctantly, Darcy brought their pleasurable encounter to a close.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Darcy and Bingley returned to Netherfield for the afternoon. They had all be invited to dine at Longbourn, and both men knew the ladies would need some time to rest and then change. But first, each eager to share their happy news, the gentleman took their own sister aside and spoke to them privately.

  Mr Darcy led Georgiana to the music room, a place she felt comfortable in, while Mr Bingley and Caroline remained in the drawing room.

  Having seen Georgiana comfortably settled, Darcy pulled up a chair and sat before her.

  Taking hold of one of her hands, Darcy began,

  “Georgiana, I have some joyous news to share with you. It is the reason I returned to Hertfordshire with such haste.”

  Georgiana inclined her head slightly and gave a cautious smile.

  “Well,” Darcy paused, “…the truth is; when I first arrived in Hertfordshire at Michaelmas, a particular young lady caught my attention. Being as stubborn as I am, I tried to fight the attraction I felt for her. So much so, I returned to town to aid the process. But, as I expect you have already guessed, that is one fight I am honestly elated to have lost. My sole purpose in returning to the Shire was to first speak to the young lady’s father and then to Elizabeth. Having been given Mr Bennet’s permission to approach Elizabeth, I then ask her if she would do me the honour of becoming my wife. She has accepted, Georgiana, Elizabeth has consented to be my wife, and we are now engaged.”

  Darcy waited nervously for Georgiana’s reaction, but he need not have worried.

  Georgiana welcomed the news that at last, she was to have a sister. Not that she did not love and adore her brother, but she had always longed for a sister.

  Forgetting all of Mrs Annesley’s advice and training on how to conduct herself, Georgiana flung her arms around Darcy’s neck and hugged him in a most unladylike fashion.

  “Oh brother, is it true, you have found a wife? And a sister for me? I am so happy for you, Fitzwilliam.”

  For a long moment, Darcy enjoyed his sister’s jubilation, then gently untangled himself from her embrace.

  “Yes, a sister for you, Georgiana, but I do not expect you to join together against me,” he teased.

  “You must love her very much, William, to offer her your name and protection. So, she is one of the Miss Bennet’s you wrote to me about? Will, I meet her soon?”

  “Yes, and yes,” Darcy said. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet. There is still more good news, Mr Bingley is to marry Elizabeth’s sister, Jane. Now, Mr and Mrs Bennet have invited us all to dine with them this evening, so run along and get ready. We must leave at six-thirty sharp.”

  With a childlike skip, Georgiana hurried upstairs, happier than she had been for over a year. But today she would not think of George Wickham or his betrayal of her affections. Today was a day of celebration.

  A similar scenario was being played out in the Netherfield drawing room, but with a very different outcome.

  Mr Bingley had asked Caroline to make herself comfortable. He wanted to share some good news with her.

  However, unbeknown to Charles, Caroline had already guessed his secret and was not at all happy about it.

  If Charles was expecting felicitations from his sister, he was about to be sadly disappointed.

  “Caroline,” he started, “After much consideration, and believe me I did try to heed your advice, I have concluded that I will only ever love one woman. That woman is Jane Bennet. Therefore, today, I asked her to be my wife, and she has accepted me. I am to be married, Caroline, and you are to have another sister.”

  Caroline’s unwavering stare and silence began to unnerve Charles, and as his courage began to fail him, he nervously asked,

  “Are you not happy for me, sister?”

  It was as she expected. Her weak-willed brother had returned to the doe-eyed Jane Bennet and thrown his heart and his fortune at her feet.

  With no effort to disguise her contempt, Caroline sneered,

  “One sister, Charles, don’t you mean five sisters. Jane herself is bearable, but she does not come alone, does she, Charles?”

  Standing, Caroline began to pace to and fro before her brother, knowing her actions would intimidate him.

  “Do you expect me to wish you joy, to be happy for you? To rejoice, knowing that your childish infatuation will bind us to that dreadful family forever. To think I will be associated with that ridiculous mother, the idle father and unbearably common sisters. It is beyond contemptible, Charles, how could you do it? Have you no regards for the feelings of your sisters? Do not fool yourself, for Louisa will not be happy for you either. She and I are of a mind where the Bennet family are concerned.”

  Caroline ceased her pacing for a moment, standing before her brother.

  “I insist you break with her, Charles, it’s not too late. You cannot expose your family to such ridicule, and your marriage will make us the laughing stock of society. And for what… to satisfy your male cravings?”

  “But Caroline, I love Jane, and she loves me. Besides, I can’t break it off, I have already spoken to her father, and Jane has told her mother.”

  “Have you exchanged contracts?”

  “Well, no…”

  “Then there is no breach of promise.” Caroline resumed her pacing.

  “I love Jane, Caroline, and I want to marry her,” Charles said with determination.

  Through experience, Caroline knew if she browbeat her brother for long enough, he would capitulate.

  “Oh, Charles,” she said in a derisory and dismissive tone, “You fall in love with a new face every season. This time next year you won’t even remember her name.”

  “I think Charles will find that harder than you imagine, Miss Bingley.”

  Even before turning to trace the deep baritone voice, Caroline knew it w
as Mr Darcy that stood behind her.

  Turning to face him, Caroline said,

  “I see no reason why not, Mr Darcy. Once Charles has returned to town, attended a few balls and recitals, Jane Bennet will be banished from his affections for once and for all. His broken heart, if indeed it is broken, will soon mend. And perhaps…in a year or two, Georgiana and Charles…”

  “Georgiana and Charles are not suited, Miss Bingley, and I have promised her she may marry for love, not convenience. Now, unless it is your intention to sever all contact with me too, Miss Bingley, I do not see how you can avoid an acquaintance with the Bennet family.”

  Caroline furrowed her brow and stared at Darcy.

  “Why should that be, sir? We hardly move in the same circles, thank goodness.”

  “No, but once Miss Elizabeth Bennet is my wife…” Darcy paused, allowing Caroline the time to understand his meaning, “You will find it almost impossible not to meet one, or perhaps all the Bennet at any number of social occasions.”

  Caroline blanched as she realised her prize had been torn away from her, and by the one person she despised the most, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  “You cannot be serious, sir, say it is not so.”

  “Oh, but it is so, Miss Bingley, I am deadly earnest,” Darcy replied with a single raised brow.

  Then a soft voice from behind Darcy said,

  “I am very happy for my brother, Miss Bingley, and I will welcome his wife as my new sister,” Georgiana said bravely.

  Caroline then made another disastrous mistake. She rounded on Georgiana.

  “What do you know of the world, you are only a child, with childish fantasies about love and happy ever afters. Life is not like that Georgiana, if it was, do you think I would still be a spinster?”

  Georgiana saw her brother stiffen and his jaw clench as he fought to maintain his composure.

  “Georgiana may still be a child in your eyes, Madam, but at least she is a kind child. She does not spread her vitriol on others just because things have not gone her way. And, as far as I am concerned, she is everything I could wish for in a sister, unlike some people I know.” The icy tone in which Darcy delivered his rebuke, saw Caroline blanch.