A Most Civil Proposal

by C. P. Odom

  “Then your offer will have to be renewed, and Miss Bennet must be prepared to accept or face the consequences. It does seem as if she may have acquitted you of the worst of her opinions, and this additional information may convince her of the wisdom of this course.”

  Darcy considered this, but the problem was that he believed he understood Elizabeth better than his cousin did — for all his superior skill in conversation. Richard had not seen the manner in which Elizabeth had stood up to him, and he believed that even this disturbing news would not move her from her course. It might be different if the gossip actually were published and talked about, for then Elizabeth would have little choice if she wished to prevent scandal from damaging her or her family. However, she had that morning given him a chance to continue their acquaintance, and he would prefer to keep to that course.

  “I will acquaint Miss Bennet with this distressing news,” Darcy said slowly, “but I believe that any renewal of my offer would be rejected.” Fitzwilliam opened his mouth to protest, but Darcy held up his hand. “Trust me on this, Richard. She would be outraged by any attempt to force her to accept marriage due to household gossip that we both know has no foundation. Yet she must be informed. We are scheduled to depart in the morning at nine, and I will attempt to see her in private if she walks early. But what if she does not walk? Perhaps we should delay until the afternoon or even the following day.”

  Fitzwilliam was not wholly in accord with Darcy’s refusal to renew his offer, but he submitted to his cousin’s better understanding of Miss Bennet. On the subject of their departure, however, his opinion was fixed.

  “There are two points against delaying our departure, as I see it,” he said firmly. “One is that a letter has already been dispatched, so time lost may be time needed. Second is the disgraceful state of the staff here. With the arrangements already in place, changing our plans at the last minute will likely give rise to further whispers, such as ‘Mr. Darcy is unable to leave his mistress,’ and that news will shortly be included in some other post.” He paused thoughtfully, looking at his cousin. “I still believe that you should renew your offer or possibly take this to Miss Bennet’s father.”

  “It will not work, Richard. That eventuality may come, but I am convinced that she will reject any offer I might make now. And even if I saw her father and he agreed with me, I doubt that he would force her to marry against her will.”

  “Possibly you are correct” — Fitzwilliam sighed — “yet I do not wish to see Miss Bennet hurt.”

  “Nor do I,” he answered, running his hand through his hair again. “What if I cannot see her before we leave? If she does not walk, I will have no chance to notify her.”

  Fitzwilliam brightened at a sudden thought. “Write her a letter, Darcy. If you do not see her in the morning, take it to her at the Parsonage.”

  “She will not accept a letter from me. And even if she did, as you pointed out, the staff would then gossip about that.”

  “Ummm,” said Fitzwilliam in reluctant agreement, then brightened again. “What about Anne?” he suggested. “I know she corresponds with Mrs. Collins; I have seen several notes left to be delivered. Perhaps she could take your letter and enclose it inside one of her own?”

  Darcy nodded slowly. “That would work. I know Anne relishes the opportunity to circumvent Lady Catherine whenever possible to do so without being discovered.”

  “Yes, she will not oppose her openly,” Fitzwilliam said sadly. “Still, I do not know whether either of us would be any braver if we had to live in her ladyship’s household and under her authority.”

  “Too true.”

  “It ought to be a good letter to Miss Bennet, Cousin.” Fitzwilliam smiled.

  “At least I write better than I speak,” he jested in return.

  The two men then made one final toast, draining their glasses before Fitzwilliam excused himself for the evening and Darcy sat down to write. For the third night in a row, he would get little sleep, and it was past three in the morning before he at last finished. He addressed his letter to ‘Miss Elizabeth Bennet,’ sealed it, and stamped it with the Darcy family crest. Lastly, before retiring, he enclosed it in a plain sheet of stationery.

  Chapter 7

  Saturday, April 11, 1812

  “Good morning, Anne,” Darcy said in greeting the next morning. “Thank you for admitting me on such short notice.”

  His cousin was sitting by the window, looking outdoors with a wistful expression. He suddenly felt guilty for his robust health and his errand when this young woman was so hindered by her own frail body that she was unable to share in the beauties of the world upon which she gazed.

  “It is no trouble,” she responded, turning to him at last. “I have been awake for hours.”

  Darcy nodded in sad understanding of his cousin’s frailties before mentally shrugging off his sympathy and focusing on his purpose. “We are ready to go” he began, and she nodded, for he had taken leave of her the previous evening. “But I wish to solicit your aid in an urgent matter. It is,” he said, looking her in the eye, “one that needs to be kept from your mother’s notice.”

  “It is, is it?” she said with more interest than before. “And what do you need my help with, Cousin Darcy?”

  “I need your aid to get a letter to Miss Elizabeth Bennet at the Parsonage.”

  “Ah, the valiant Miss Bennet,” she said with a slight smile. “That does explain some of the oddities I have noted on this visit.”

  Her discerning gaze made Darcy uncomfortable. Anne might have inherited her physical frailty from her father, but she had also inherited his incisive mind.

  “For obvious reasons, I cannot simply hand my letter to her. I thought you might enclose it in one of your own to Mrs. Collins, which I could then deliver to her before we leave,” he told her, taking out his letter and setting it on the table.

  Anne looked at it with interest but did not reach to take it, instead fixing him with an inquisitive stare.

  “I must inform Miss Bennet of some very urgent matters, Anne,” he said haltingly. “She must be made aware — and quickly, I might add — of vital information that affects her personally.”

  “Ah, the gossip,” Anne said quietly but with a twinkle in her eye.

  Darcy did not ask how she knew. The rest of her mother’s staff might be undeserving of employment in a household of note, but her own maid, Margaret, had served Anne de Bourgh all her short life, and the older woman was fiercely loyal to her mistress.

  “Yes, the gossip,” Darcy confirmed, “none of which is true, by the way.”

  “I never doubted it.” Anne’s eyes brightened as she reached for the letter. “I like Miss Bennet very much,” she said mildly though Darcy could read the interest in her expression. “You could not have made a wiser choice — or one so calculated to drive my mother into an absolute passion! Therefore, I will be pleased to assist you in this endeavour.”

  “Yes, well,” Darcy stammered as an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach threatened his equanimity. “There is nothing settled yet, Anne, but I thank you for your assistance. There is one further request — when you write to Mrs. Collins, would you ask that she urge Miss Bennet to read the letter? Miss Bennet is, ah . . . very independent minded . . . and might well refuse to either receive or read it.”

  “Why is that?” Anne was confused. “Does she not know of your intentions? Do not tell me that you have not the courage to declare yourself to her.”

  “She knows,” said Darcy uncomfortably. “The question is not my intentions but her reception of them.”

  “Oho!” chortled Anne. “Do not tell me she rejected you! Oh, this is too much. Our Miss Bennet is truly a gem among women.”

  “Do you have to enjoy it so much?” Darcy grumbled, wondering whether all of his acquaintances would soon know what he would have much rather kept a dark secret. “We are cousins, you know. You might at least have a little consideration for my feelings!”

  “
Oh, by all means, I should,” said Anne with absolutely no contrition whatever. “But do you desire my consideration or my aid?”

  “Your aid, of course. Will you give it?”

  “Do you have to ask? To outmanoeuvre my mother while helping to foster a match between you and the lovely Miss Bennet — how could I not help you in this?”

  “Thank you. Please have Margaret deliver it to Jennings, and I will leave it at the Parsonage,” Darcy said quietly. “I hope to have the opportunity to talk to Miss Bennet this morning in private. But if I am unsuccessful, I will trust in your letter. Thank you for your help. I hope that our next meeting will see you improved in health.”

  “As do I, Cousin,” she sighed as he bent to kiss her hand. “As do I.”

  She was already moving toward her writing desk as he left the room.

  * * * * *

  Elizabeth was alone with Charlotte in the drawing room when she was surprised to see the door open and Mr. Darcy’s tall figure stride into the room. His dark eyes brightened as he saw her, and she had to look down. She felt her cheeks redden, for even after another long night of thought, she remained as confused about him as ever. Needing more time to examine her feelings, she had deliberately stayed indoors in order to avoid any possibility of another meeting along the paths of Rosings. Oh, how she looked forward to being with Jane, with whom she might discuss all that had passed in the last several days!

  “Please excuse the interruption, Mrs. Collins,” she heard him say, “but when I took leave of my cousin Anne this morning, she mentioned that she had a note for you, which I offered to deliver.” Elizabeth looked up as he handed the letter to Charlotte, and for the first time since she had known him, she was struck by how handsome he truly was. Always before, she had seen him through the eyes of amusement and dislike. But now, knowing his attraction to her, her viewpoint was altered, and she could not help but be impressed by his attractive features, his stature, and his well-built frame. As he made his farewell to Charlotte and turned to her, she recognized the open admiration in his eyes, and she had the feeling that he was fixing her in his memory, trying to store a recollection to be examined at a later time. The feeling of being so scrutinized was, surprisingly, not wholly unpleasant, and when he gave a small bow and bid her goodbye, she inclined her head in return. As he turned to the door, she caught one last look from him, and he was gone.

  Elizabeth was lost in contemplation of this brief but unsettling encounter and did not see her friend frowning at the packet she held, wondering at its being so thick. However, when Charlotte opened it, she found a brief note from Miss de Bourgh wrapped around what appeared to be another letter.

  Charlotte’s frown grew deeper as she read the note, and Elizabeth, who had returned to her sewing, peered at her in curiosity. She was surprised when Charlotte finally looked up from her perusal of the note and shoved a letter, folded and sealed, but with no writing on either side, along the table to her, saying, “It seems that this one is for you, Lizzy. Miss de Bourgh says that it is from Mr. Darcy and asks me to pass it on to you.”

  “Mr. Darcy!”

  “It appears so,” said Charlotte. Then, as Elizabeth showed no inclination to pick it up, she asked, “Are you not going to open it, Lizzy?”

  “It is not proper for Mr. Darcy to send me a letter, Charlotte,” Elizabeth said slowly. “Especially after what I shared with you earlier. No, I shall not open it,” she concluded firmly.

  Charlotte was troubled by this response. She knew her friend was right about the proprieties, but she was so firmly decided that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy would make a splendid match that she was determined to advance the prospect if at all possible. Finally, she decided to share Miss de Bourgh’s specific urging that Elizabeth accept the letter as the best way to convince her.

  Elizabeth listened with considerable astonishment. The idea that the quiet, sickly Anne de Bourgh could not only take amusement in thwarting her mother and could even have conspired with her cousin was not at all what she had envisioned. When Charlotte had finished, she once again urged Elizabeth to take Mr. Darcy’s letter, and eventually, Elizabeth yielded—partly to Charlotte’s opinion and partly to her own curiosity.

  Rosings, 10 o’clock of the evening, April 10

  Miss Elizabeth Bennet,

  Please forgive the mode of delivery of this note, but I was forced to resort to desperate stratagems in order to appraise you of distressing news that has come to me, news that concerns us both. Briefly, the situation is thus . . .

  Elizabeth read the explanation of the unwelcome rumours with consternation and growing concern, well aware how slight an error could cause irreparable harm to a young lady’s reputation, damaging her chance of making a good marriage or of even being recognized in polite society.

  The question now to be addressed concerns what is to be done in light of this situation. At this time, my cousin Fitzwilliam and I believe the greatest hazard is that this rumour may spread into open scandal, possibly among London society. If it were just your family, the salacious tales might die a well-deserved death, but my prominence in society, unwelcome as it is, makes such a fortunate conclusion less likely. The simplest and most convenient course of action to mitigate the damage of such an occurrence would be, of course, for you to reconsider my offer of marriage, but I believe I know you well enough to be assured that you are resolute in your refusal. Therefore, I have decided the best course is to inform you of what I have learned and to hope that the worst may be avoided.

  I will journey today to London and visit Bingley on the morrow, after which I will wait to hear that you have joined your sister, remaining watchful as to whether this story spreads. If it does so, I will inform you immediately either by riding to Kent or by sending an express, for by that point, no delay may be risked, and any breach of propriety must be ignored. In case there might be any doubt in your mind, let me assure you that even open scandal would not affect my course. My affections and wishes are unchanged, and my offer of marriage remains open; I urge you to consider what I have related and also to consider your response should events take an unfortunate path.

  I know this situation cannot be to your liking, nor is it to mine. I intend, if you are still willing to grant me the chance, to conduct a more traditional courtship in the hope of changing your opinion of me. I do not wish to have you come unwillingly to marriage, even though it would result in my union with one whom I hold most dear, but in the event that the more fortunate event becomes unfeasible, I hope that you will see the sense of it. In that event, and assuming your agreement, please be assured that you will never in the future have reason to doubt your financial security nor my love and my respect of you and our future family.

  I remain, your most ardent and respectful admirer,

  F. Darcy

  Charlotte watched in distress as Elizabeth rose from her seat and changed colour as she read the letter with increasing agitation. She paced about the room, silently mouthing the words until she finally threw herself back into the chair with a muttered, “What an insufferable, arrogant man! The very nerve of him, to . . . to . . . oh, I am so very angry!”

  At length, Elizabeth calmed down enough to read the letter through once more while Charlotte put her sewing aside and simply sat waiting for her to regain the ability to converse. When she judged that point had been reached, she ventured, “Then the letter was from Mr. Darcy?”

  “Oh, yes, Charlotte. There could not be a more prideful, conceited man in the entirety of England than Mr. oh-so-proud Darcy!”

  But as calm slowly returned, Elizabeth grew more concerned with the problem Mr. Darcy related rather than his solution to it. Could he be mistaken?

  “Charlotte, Mr. Darcy makes mention of some . . . rumours . . . among the staff here and at Rosings concerning Mr. Darcy and myself. Have you heard of any such?”

  When Charlotte would not meet her eye, Elizabeth’s stomach roiled. At last, Charlotte said, “Lizzy, I cannot talk of it. My husband has abso
lutely forbidden me to speak on the matter.”

  Elizabeth reached over and took her hand consolingly, for Charlotte was quite distraught. “Mr. Darcy believes that Lady Catherine, still hoping to accomplish a marriage between her daughter and nephew, wishes to prevent the rumours from escaping beyond the bounds of Rosings. Has her ladyship commanded Mr. Collins to order your silence?” She could see the answer in the misery on Charlotte’s features, and she continued wryly, “It seems that, from what Mr. Darcy writes, Lady Catherine’s efforts may well be too late.”

  Charlotte twisted her hands in anxiety for her friend. “Can I help, Lizzy? I would not go against my husband’s wishes, but if there is anything I can do that does not conflict with his orders, please tell me.”

  Elizabeth sighed and tried to force a smile. “I am not sure anyone can do anything, but here is what Mr. Darcy relates,” and she quickly acquainted her friend with the outline of Darcy’s letter.

  Charlotte’s spirits were lifted immeasurably. “It is not so very bad, is it, Lizzy? I must admit to a feeling of vindication that his regard for you is as I predicted. And now he desires to court you openly while assuring that you will not be ruined by scandal. Surely, you must see how fortunate is the solution he suggests? If he did not care, he could simply endure the embarrassment to himself instead of renewing his offer of marriage.”

  “But that is the core of the problem, Charlotte,” Elizabeth said angrily. “He plots the course, he makes the decisions, he commands — and I must do as he wishes or else expose my sisters and my family to the humiliation of scandal! It is altogether intolerable!”

  “But Lizzy, does he not say how much he loves you?” Charlotte tried to mollify her friend’s anger with rational advice. “Does he not say how he will ensure the future for you and your children? And does he not say that you will never doubt his love and respect for you? Do you have reason to doubt his sincerity in these regards? Are not these assurances beyond the realm of what most young women are presented when considering marriage? Oh, Lizzy, you must give some thought to the realities of life and not give over everything to your romantic notions! Does not Mr. Darcy express enough romance for any dozen impractical young men?”