A Gentleman's Mistake

by Marley Fulton

  “Is everyone ready for their tea?” Mrs. Bennet’s warm voice floated through the parlor and the four gentlemen seated lifted their heads from the conversation.

  “Oh, yes, indeed. I have been patiently dying of thirst,” Archibald murmured, glancing past Mrs. Bennet as if he hoped to see Elizabeth standing there. When she was not present, his very deeanor seemed to sink – as if a peat bog were all that sat under him, and not a proper seat, “Where is Elizabeth this morning?” he asked.

  “Lizzy will be down straightaway. I have already insisted she come and at least greet the company,” Mrs. Bennet remarked, as she lifted the teapot and began filling teacups and placed them upon small china saucers. She held out one cup and saucer to Archibald and then proceeded to pass them onto Darcy, Bingley and her husband, Mr. Bennett.

  “Is she feeling capable of meeting us? If not, it is perfectly fine for her to stay in bed,” Darcy remarked – worry lining his every word.

  “Oh, no, Lizzy would not stay put in any bed if it were up to her. She seems perfectly intent on coming down to greet you all, and I am most glad of it,” Mrs. Bennet assured him.

  “You would not tell them even if she had rebuked you for the offer, my darling. Please, sit and have some tea,” Mr. Bennet announced as he looked up at his wife. Mrs. Bennet shot daggers instantly at her husband as if to warn him from revealing much more, but Darcy had caught the look and found himself stifling his laughter – the last thing he wanted to do was offend Mrs. Bennet.

  “Oh, cease your ramblings, my dear. Lizzy will be a long...”

  Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

  The sound of boot heels echoing off the staircase interrupted Mrs. Bennet’s speech and, as Darcy peered upward, the face of none other than that of Miss Bennet appeared.

  “You know it is most unkind to speak of others when they are absent from the conversation, Mother. Never had I imagined I would step in to greet our company and find myself to be the subject of conversation.” A hint of detectable sarcasm seemed to rise with each word that Elizabeth uttered, and yet, Darcy himself found his lips widening to form a grin – though whether it was due to her words or from her presence, he still could not be sure.

  “Your mother simply wished to assure Mr. Bingley that you would be along, dear. Do not worry so much,” Mr. Bennet stated, glancing at his daughter with a nod. “He and his cousin and Mr. Darcy, have come to ensure your health has been properly seen to.”

  “Which, as we can all see, you are looking radiant, Lizzy. Please, sit and have some tea,” Mrs. Bennet directed with a smile.

  With a curious and uncertain flicker, Elizabeth’s eyes glanced around the parlor, her instinct being not to trust a word of her mother’s. Especially, after the incident with Collins, which Archibald scarcely seemed to dissuade. Darcy’s eyes shifted toward Mrs. Bennet briefly, only to quickly return to Elizabeth and the mesmerizing eyes that had captivated him since first glance.

  “Good day, Miss Bennet,” Darcy began, nodding curtly as he continued, “After seeing you as I had, I felt it imperative to offer the assistance of my physician – I would hate for you to get worse,” he explained.

  “Good morning, Mr. Darcy, and let me take this moment to properly thank you for your continual assistance. However, I can assure you I am quite fine now and intend on remaining so. I have no need of a physician,” Elizabeth remarked.

  “Yes, I can see that you are indeed looking quite healthy, and I am quite pleased to see it, however, it would be foolish of me not to see to your wellbeing one last time prior to vacating Hertfordshire,” Darcy replied.

  Elizabeth smiled, lowering herself to sit beside her mother – Mrs. Bennet beginning to fill another teacup quickly to pass off to Elizabeth. She crooked her finger through the teacup handle and gingerly held onto her saucer as she paused and glanced at Archibald.

  “Good day to you, Mr. Bingley, and you, Mr. Bingley. Did you also come just to check on my welfare?” Elizabeth inquired. Mrs. Bennet instantly shot Elizabeth a cautious glance and Darcy suddenly felt himself growing more comfortable with the Bennets. Perhaps, it was true – perhaps, he had been too harsh in his initial judgments of the Longbourn household, for it seemed the polite and interesting conversation he had shared with Mr. Bennet, combined with the warm and inviting mannerisms of Mrs. Bennet were quite pleasant – even if unexpected.

  “Good morning to you, Miss Bennet, and to address your question; yes, I had a deep concern for you after hearing of your terrible misfortune. I believe we are all deeply grateful that Mr. Darcy was available to rescue you or else who knows what a tragedy might have occurred,” the elder Bingley stated. “And with Archibald’s insistence that you been taken fully care of prior to our departure, I felt it necessary to see you as I am now,” he concluded.

  “Oh, you are far too kind, Mr. Bingley, but as I have assured Mr. Darcy, and my mother, I am perfectly well now. Thank you for your concerns.”

  Darcy’s eyebrow lifted slightly, a perplexed look overtaking his countenance. She truly has no cares. Perhaps, Archibald is right about that strength he spoke of. I cannot see how any other woman would be moving about as she is.

  “Yes, it is true that I have been nearly ill with worry for you, Elizabeth, and as much as you keep reassuring us all you are fine – I too am thankful Darcy was riding that day. Like my cousin said, I would hate to think of what could have happened had he not been,” Archibald explained.

  “Well,” Elizabeth lifted her teacup and gently blew over it, sipping it slowly and lowering it as she continued to speak, “I do agree that Mr. Darcy helped me a great deal, but I would feel horribly should I take advantage of that kindness. Which is why I feel no need to see the doctor. Please, do take this as my final thank you for all of your help, Mr. Darcy, but understand that I cannot accept anything else. You have done quite enough,” Elizabeth stated flatly.

  Darcy leaned back against his seat and gave a curt nod, his heart seeming to settle within the pit of his chest. She must truly abhor me. Why else would she say such a thing?

  Chapter Four

  Darcy inhaled deeply, squeezing his knuckles to form a fist in each hand. The parlor visit to the Bennets had been somewhat bittersweet. On the one hand, he had learned that Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were incredibly kind and warm persons and he had even enjoyed the companionship and conversation that Mr. Bennet offered. So rare was it for Darcy to find an elder gentleman with whom he could so comfortably speak and it made him happy to have found a kindred spirit in Longbourn, of all places. But, it was not the conversation and call that had him feeling so distressed this morning. In fact, it was something incredibly unexpected – his mind shifting back to the conversation that he, Archibald and Bingley had shared upon leaving Hertfordshire; “Was that not a lovely social call?” Archibald mused as the three gentlemen traveled.

  “Oh, yes I found Mrs. Bennet’s tea to be utterly horrid though. Did anyone else feel the same?” the elder Bingley asked.

  “I would imagine that tea is not so easily fetched by the Longbourn household. It was probably growing stale. They are rather poor after all,” Darcy retorted.

  “I thought the tea was perfectly fine. I felt Mrs. Bennet made a remarkable hostess and I truly enjoyed the tea,” Archibald stated.

  “Well, at least one of us did. I felt it tasted of mold,” his cousin remarked.

  “That is most unfortunate, but, now that you have both seen and visited with the Bennets you surely must understand what I feel pressed to do, ” Archibald began. “I have decided to ask for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage. I am just uncertain as to when to propose.”

  “You are considering marrying Miss Bennet?” the elder Bingley asked with a surprised tone.

  “Well, yes. I cannot see myself asking any other girl. Surely, you two had to see it. How elegant and refined she truly is. She is a remarkable creature, if ever I have met one,” Archibald replied.

  “It sounds to me like you have come to your own decision, cousin. Now, it
seems you must merely grow the nerve to ask,” Bingley remarked.

  “Yes, but it is that nerve which scares me and possibly repels me also. She was quite rash in refusing the proposal of the clergyman, Mr. Collins. What if Elizabeth becomes angry by my request?” Archibald inquired.

  “Women are a strange sort of creature, cousin. I cannot say I have the proper answers for you on that.”

  “And what of, Darcy? Do you have any advice on the proposal?” Archibald asked.

  “I am no man to ask about proposals. I have yet to find anyone I would dare to ask,” Darcy muttered, knowing his words were lies as they slid past his teeth. How would he truly tell this man the best way to ask Elizabeth to marry him when he felt such longing over her?

  “I see. It is a most difficult thing to do,” Archibald remarked.

  “Do you not think it too soon to be considering such a thing? Is it not possible that some time pondering on it might provide an answer?” Darcy asked.

  “I suppose so, but the more time I dally on ways to ask the more time passes that another like Collins could propose. What will I do if she accepts another man’s proposal?” Archibald exclaimed.

  “Despair over the loss of Miss Bennet until you find another fitting young woman to ask,” the elder Bingley retorted.

  “Are you always so harsh with your words, cousin? I had hoped to earn the sage advice of my elder brethren. I suppose such is asking too much?” Archibald queried.

  “No, but from time to time you make yourself seem utterly pitiful. Stop worrying over offending her and ask her parents for her hand. She will either accept or reject you, but waiting as you are will only further torture your soul. Do you have a woeful need for perpetual agony?” Bingley asked.

  “Perhaps, you are right. Perhaps, I am tossing myself into grueling torment for no logical reason. It is true that Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are warm and inviting persons. It would seem they also wish to see their daughters marry well. Indeed, I think you are correct about everything,” Archibald decided.

  Darcy sighed softly, glancing away from the two men cautiously. The last thing he wanted was to further encourage Archibald on ways to propose to Elizabeth. The fact that Archibald even wanted to propose to her made him nearly livid – but what right did he have to be angry? It was not as if she were his. And, better yet, why whenever Archibald mentioned her did he feel this rising irritation that he could not explain?

  “Darcy?” Bingley’s voice broke through Darcy’s thoughts and he glanced back at him with a tilt of the head.

  “Yes?” Darcy asked.

  “Is everything alright? You seem a bit disgruntled.”

  “Oh, no. I am perfectly fine just eager to get to our destination.”

  Darcy’s mind shifted back to the present and he extended his fingers a bit – a slight ache having come to form in his fingers. There was a desperate feeling that had taken root within his heart, as if time were fleeting so quickly he would have to leap and run in order to keep up with the pace. Nevertheless, he could not be certain when Archibald would finally grow the nerve to ask Mr. Bennet for permission to marry his daughter, and since Archibald had been properly courting Elizabeth where others had failed to, Darcy felt himself unable to compete with the obvious advantage that the younger Bingley had already obtained.

  How would he prevent Archibald from asking for her hand without tarnishing his own reputation in the process? And better yet, how could he stand by idly while Elizabeth could be asked to marry someone else? Especially, when that someone else was someone Darcy would have to see and socialize with quite often – which meant continually and torturously seeing Elizabeth and Archibald as husband and wife for the rest of his days. He simply did not know how he to handle it. It only seemed natural that Elizabeth would accept Archibald’s request above any others – he had been the only one she seemed to honestly like, which was strangely odd to Darcy. Archibald had never been the stronger of the Bingley cousins, but he did use the name to his advantage any time he saw fit. In addition to being overly charming, Darcy thought the man to be a bit effeminate – wondering if that may have been why ladies found him kind and genteel.

  Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

  A soft rapping came at his door and Darcy lifted his head with a sigh, “Yes?”

  “Mr. Darcy, would you like to come down for tea?” a servant’s voice echoed through the door. Fitzwilliam closed his eyes briefly and sighed yet again, crossing over to open the door calmly.

  “No, I would prefer not to have tea, but thank you for offering. Please, tell the Bingleys I had an urgent issue arise. I will be leaving within the next few moments to see to it, and will be back later this evening,” Darcy instructed.

  “Yes, of course, Mr. Darcy,” the servant girl, Catherine, remarked.

  “Thank you, Miss Ferguson,” Darcy remarked, regarding her with yet another famous curt nod as he closed the door. As soon as the door closed, Darcy decidedly chose to grab his coat and riding gloves. He knew immediately where he needed to be if he sought the prevention of Miss Bennet becoming engaged. In fact, it surprised him that the notion had not occurred to him previously considering the time he and Miss Bennet had spent together – even if but for brief interludes. In fact, he felt incredibly foolish as he realized it.

  ***

  Darcy’s horse lightly trotted through the woods. Since coming here he had grown a fondness for the greying and gloomy landscape and the constant rain that seemed to never fade from the forest. Strange as it was, Darcy felt a closeness to Miss Bennet as he led the horse down the trail. Just a few feet ahead lie the silvery waters of the pond Elizabeth had tumbled into. Soon enough, he imagined Elizabeth would be walking along the pond’s edge in direct defiance of those who wished she would stay away from the water.

  Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

  Darcy glanced around in search of the direction of the sound, but could not see any one thing or person upon first glance. A soft giggling emitted behind him, and Darcy turned his head toward the noise, “Good day?”

  “Good day,” a soft female voice responded, as a young woman stepped from the trees, “Mr. Darcy? I thought you had already left Hertfordshire with the Bingleys?”

  “Ah, good day, Miss Bennet. Yes, I did find myself on a short venture elsewhere but I have found there is something about these woods of yours that is entirely appealing,” Darcy stated.

  “Is that so? Well, I am fortunate to have them so close by that I share that sentiment, but surely you did not travel all this way just to ride in the trees?” Elizabeth remarked.

  “Indeed, that would be a foolish endeavor but here I am,” Darcy remarked, pulling on the reigns as he urged the horse to a halt.

  “Is it because you came to enjoy these leisurely conversations?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

  “One might say it is due to the intriguing company of the forest, yes. Though, I have found them to be mostly silent save for the occasional chirping of birds or the scampering of a stag through the trees.” “Indeed, it is the wildlife and nature of the walk that I most enjoy. Even if it is all but silent save for those occasional things,” Elizabeth remarked.

  “May I be frank with you, Miss Bennet?” Darcy asked.

  Elizabeth grinned impishly and stopped in place. “Forgive me, but I presume we have already reached a higher level of frankness. Please, speak with ease if you have something to say, Mr. Darcy.” “Ever since the day you fell into the pond I have been beside myself – near to exhaustion with concern for you. And, yet every time I have ever made any attempt to show my concerns you have rejected them quite fiercely. Might I know why that is?” he asked.

  “I have yet to find any person who truly captures my attention thoroughly, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth admitted.

  “Is that all? May I ask why that is?” Darcy asked.

  “Well, to be frank, I am not entirely sure. Perhaps, I am the sort who believes that one should only marry for love. Not for station, class or privilege,” she answered.


  “Ah, indeed, I can see that being a strange notion for many to accept these days. Does station not matter at all to anyone at Longbourn?” Darcy asked.

  Elizabeth furrowed her eyebrows, a frustrated expression overtaking her countenance as she looked back at him. “I am not sure if I should be entirely offended by that statement or even if I should answer it at all,” Elizabeth continued. “Is prejudice something that you were born with or did you acquire it throughout your privileged life?” she spat out venomously.

  Darcy felt a surge of despair rising in his throat – almost as if words had been stripped from his tongue and he had been left with the inability to speak. He was not sure what to say but knew instantly that things were headed in an unfavorable direction.

  “I apologize, Miss Bennet. I did not mean to offend you with my words. I had not perceived myself to be so intolerable to you before, but I now see that I am quite disruptive to your peace. Good day,” Darcy stated with finality, feeling foolish for even choosing to show his face in such a place.

  Elizabeth sighed. “Mr. Darcy, no,” she shook her head slightly, “You are by no means intolerable. There is no need to apologize, but you must see how things appear to others.”

  “I know your parents to be kind and warm persons but reflections from the ball have indicated an extreme lack of decorum,” Darcy informed her.

  “Mr. Darcy, I was just gracious enough to forgive your first tongue lashing and now you once again offend me by directing your words towards the propriety of my family? I cannot imagine how you do not perceive yourself as equally rude as you have accused me of being,” Elizabeth snapped vehemently.

  Feeling the pain from her words, Darcy pulled at his reigns and proceeded to urge the horse into a low trot. “Again, my apologies, Miss Bennet. It seems my tongue knows no bounds, just as you have accused me of. I will take my leave now. Please, forgive me.”