Compromising Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Anthology

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Compromising Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Anthology Page 7

by Rose Fairbanks


  “My dear Aunt, I think you credit yourself too much. Even at that early time, my heart was in no danger of being touched by Mr. Wickham, but my vanity was exceedingly flattered.” Elizabeth took a lengthy pause and mentally reproached herself again for allowing it to be so. Affecting cheerfulness, she began anew, “As I wrote to you in January, when his attentions to me ceased, I felt no pain.”

  Mrs. Gardiner was quite skilled in the art of conversation and now directed it towards discussion of Mr. Darcy. “He is perfectly well behaved, polite, and unassuming. Perhaps his air is a little stately but it is not unbecoming; I saw no terrible pride. And I daresay he is as handsome as Mr. Wickham. There is something very pleasing about his mouth when he speaks. Do you truly still find him so disagreeable?”

  Elizabeth coloured a bit at the reference to Mr. Darcy’s handsomeness, but confided to her aunt, “Forgive me for yesterday. I was confused and did not know entirely how I felt myself and so decided it was best to maintain a façade of my previous impression. Before we had even left Kent, I realised that I was quite mistaken in his character.”

  Elizabeth looked around, glanced at the clock, and determined that she could quickly explain more to her aunt. “I also was uncertain how much I should reveal. He confessed to me that he had a hand in separating Mr. Bingley from Jane.”

  Mrs. Gardiner gasped and looked on her niece with confusion. Sensing her aunt’s bewilderment at Elizabeth’s improved feelings in light of her most recent words, she explained her understanding that Mr. Darcy’s actions were only in the interest of his friend.

  “Your uncle says Mr. Darcy confessed his love for you.”

  Elizabeth nodded, an expression of disbelief and humility on her face. “Yes, towards his friend he was kinder than to himself. I would have been most intemperate in my reply should he have asked before this. He appears to have no notion that I disliked him entirely before yesterday.”

  She paused and hung her head in shame. “I was quite prejudiced against him.”

  “And now?”

  Elizabeth blushed but confessed, “I see how wrong I have been. He is worthy of my esteem.”

  Mrs. Gardiner nodded in agreement. “I find his behaviour quite agreeable. His understanding and opinions all please me; he only wants a bit more liveliness, which you can certainly teach him.”

  “Yes, I realised last night that he has much to offer me as well. Now that I am not so determined to hate him, I can see that his manners are not offensive and that no man has ever engaged me so much in meaningful conversation, nor treated my opinions so equally.”

  “Will you tell him?” Elizabeth looked at her aunt in puzzlement. Mrs. Gardiner explained, “He must think that you love him or at least esteem him greatly. You believe he has no suspicion of your prior dislike, despite your support of Wickham? What if someone mentions it?”

  Elizabeth had to admit such an occurrence might be possible, especially in Hertfordshire, but they were not expected to stay in that country for more than a few days. She shook her head and firmly replied, “Aunt, I am sure I need not mention it now. It can only serve to hurt him.”

  The surprise Mrs. Gardiner felt at Elizabeth’s answer showed. “I am pleased to hear you consider his sensibilities, but think of how it will affect him to hear of the matter elsewhere. Are you certain this has nothing to do with preserving your pride? I know you are mortified at your misjudgement of Mr. Wickham’s character, although you need not be. It seems he has deceived everyone he has ever known, including your Mr. Darcy.”

  Before Elizabeth could reply, the housekeeper entered to request Mrs. Gardiner’s opinion on some matter. Elizabeth sat alone with her thoughts on all Mrs. Gardiner had said until Jane entered several minutes later.

  *****

  George Wickham exited the back of the Meryton butcher shop, after sampling the feminine wares of Mary King once more. Making his way around the alley to the storefront, a sweating and heaving Mr. Collins approached him.

  With a deep bow, Mr. Collins began, “Good day, Mr. Wickham. I must humbly request to have a word with you of the utmost urgency. I was sent on a mission by one of the most illustrious personages of the land, my esteemed benefactress, and I am sure you would rather do anything than risk her displeasure. But of course, you would not, being such an honourable man yourself, defending our country and wearing the King’s uniform.”

  At first, Wickham eyed the parson with annoyance. When Collins mentioned his benefactress, Wickham realised Lady Catherine must have some new communication for him. Knowing it to be the time of Darcy’s annual visit to Rosings and that Elizabeth Bennet visited this ridiculous vicar’s wife, Wickham’s mind began to race with possibilities he had first supposed several weeks ago. Clever and opportunistic, Wickham excelled at anticipating the need for his services.

  From the accounting he had heard of Darcy’s time in Hertfordshire, mostly from Elizabeth, his old friend Darcy had done nothing but make a fine mess for himself in the eyes of the woman he admired. Wickham quickly had been able to discern Darcy’s feelings for the lady, even on the street.

  It had been many years, but Wickham still remembered the signs of Darcy’s admiration for the former Miss Julia Middleton, the younger sister of a Cambridge classmate. Darcy had attempted to be nonchalant the day he approached the Bennet sisters in Meryton. Wickham noticed the change in his demeanour, such as the way he gripped the reins of his horse and his attempt to not make eye contact with the ladies. Wickham had made a fortune out of understanding the subtly displayed emotions of the Darcys, and so it would continue.

  Wickham easily noted that when Darcy observed him conversing with Elizabeth, who was obvious in her appreciation of his amiable manners and handsome face, his favourite source of money had turned white in anger and jealousy. Darcy reacted similarly with Miss Middleton many years ago. This time, Wickham did not intend to seduce the object of Darcy’s admiration; he would rather have money, and Miss Elizabeth was no foolish girl of sixteen. Wickham had nearly effortlessly confirmed Darcy’s love for the second eldest Miss Bennet through subtle investigation. He had heard tales of Darcy insulting her, a refused offer to dance, debates and arguments, and finally of him dancing only with her at the Netherfield Ball.

  During his investigation, Wickham had learned that many in Hertfordshire viewed his adversary as repulsively proud. It had been satisfying to find so many readily predisposed to dislike his enemy, but it was most pleasing to harm Elizabeth’s opinion of Darcy. She seemed so ready to find fault with Darcy and believe the claims of a stranger that Wickham wondered how true her dislike for the man was. She might protest too much. That possibility held even more promise than the pleasure of destroying Darcy’s reputation. When he had heard of Elizabeth’s plans to travel to Kent and perceived the likelihood of her meeting Darcy again, he waited in anticipation for any news of interest.

  Darcy might be trained to be a true gentleman and perform his duty unquestionably, but the very fact that he admired the relatively impoverished and impertinent lady betrayed to Wickham the depth of Darcy’s feelings. The woman had nothing but her charms to recommend her, and Wickham had always considered that Darcy’s greatest weakness was valuing character over concerns of wealth and consequence. If he had materialistic values, then he could have exposed Wickham long ago and kept a small fortune. Instead, Darcy’s honour demanded he protect his family’s name, and his deference to his father’s memory had made it easy for Wickham to continue to prey upon his former playmate.

  Wickham alone knew how deeply Fitzwilliam Darcy could feel things and the constancy of his affection. He doubted Darcy could deny his great feelings for the lady if in her company once more, and he had known his former friend always to get what he wanted. Wickham was rapidly coming to the conclusion that an offer had been made and accepted, which had greatly displeased Darcy’s aunt, and her parson was sent to communicate on her behalf. But where were Darcy and Miss Elizabeth? How interesting that they should not be here, and yet
Mr. Collins was.

  As usual, he was able to maintain his innocently charming façade. “Good day, Mr. Collins. I am surprised to see you in the country, sir. I pray all is well at Rosings?”

  “You are too good to ask, sir! But of course, her ladyship and Miss de Bourgh were in the best of health when I left. Though perhaps not of the best of tempers…”

  Wickham knew he must not let the man ramble on if he wanted to gain information that Lady Catherine would otherwise withhold from him. “And your wife is in good health? Has she remained in Kent with her guests?”

  “You honour me with your mindfulness. Yes, my dear Charlotte is in the best of health. She and my sister, Maria, have travelled with me.”

  Wickham’s suspicious grew, but he said with affected calmness, “I am glad to hear it. I hope you had safe travels. It was very gracious of you to alter your schedule to convey Miss Elizabeth home, or was it to London?”

  Collins grew red and exclaimed loudly, “I most certainly did not convey her anywhere! Lady Catherine gave me the strictest instructions to…”

  Wickham quickly realised he must interrupt again, lest Collins despoil all of his plans. It would do no good for him if Darcy’s engagement was publicly declared on the streets of Meryton while Lady Catherine obviously had some scheme to prevent its existence.

  Grabbing Collins by the elbow and dragging him away from the storefront, Wickham hissed, “Mr. Collins, calm yourself. Lady Catherine would not want you to cause a scene. You must fulfil your mission.”

  Mr. Collins calmed immediately. “Oh, thank you most profoundly, sir. I could never disappoint her again. You are quite right. May I have a word with you?”

  Nodding and smiling sincerely, Wickham glanced across the street. “Certainly. Let us make our way to the tavern for our conversation.”

  An hour later found a slightly inebriated Mr. Collins and a very satisfied Mr. Wickham leaving the tavern. They walked together until Lucas Lodge, and then Wickham headed off in the direction of Longbourn with a smug smile on his lips. This plan would be his coup de grace against Fitzwilliam Darcy.

  *****

  Elizabeth felt exceedingly uncomfortable on the carriage ride to Hertfordshire. At such a time, much might have been said, and the silence was very awkward. She wanted to talk, but there seemed to be an embargo on every subject she felt important, given the presence of Jane. If Mr. Darcy felt similarly, his actions did not suggest the fact, for he seemed quite content with silence. As always. Well…,except for yesterday. She was reminded of her resolve not to judge Darcy by prepossession any longer.

  She had been pleased when he told her before departing Gracechurch Street that he had permission to stay at Netherfield, and Mr. Bingley was to return as well. The Gardiners suggested that Elizabeth return for part of the engagement so she need not separate from Darcy, who had affairs to manage. Her aunt and uncle’s opinion of Darcy was clear; her own was less certain.

  After some time, Elizabeth recollected that she had not asked Jane about the diversions she experienced while in London. Elizabeth perceived a sadness in Jane’s eyes; presumably Darcy’s presence was a reminder of Mr. Bingley. Otherwise, her serene countenance held in place, and the threesome conversed for some time on the merits of the recent plays in production. Elizabeth was pleased to learn she and Darcy held many similar tastes, but of course, she could not resist the urge to disagree simply for the sake of debate.

  The conversation dissipated, and Jane produced a book of poetry to read. They all took turns reading aloud. During Jane’s turn, Elizabeth allowed her mind to wander. As she reconsidered all she now knew of Darcy, she came to realise even his cousin misunderstood his reserve, as did Mr. Bingley. On the night of the assembly, she had heard Darcy tell his dearest friend that he disliked dancing unless he was “particularly acquainted with his partner.” At the time, she had construed it to mean Darcy felt he was superior to their company, but now she understood that he felt overwhelmed at a dance with so many strangers. The dear man just wanted to be left alone. She vowed to display her changed opinion of him, even if she could not find a way to tell him.

  Elizabeth smiled when she realised that, although he did not speak with her the night of their first meeting, he had subsequently engaged her in conversation more than she had seen him speak to anyone else, even those of his party at Netherfield and Rosings. Perhaps Aunt Gardiner is correct, and I can coax him into liveliness.

  She recalled the words of Sir William Lucas at the gathering at Lucas Lodge. Sir William said Darcy disliked the amusement of dancing in general, but Elizabeth believed what Darcy truly disliked was the lack of genuine conversation. Additionally, all manner of families likely sought to impose their unattached female relations on him for ulterior reasons. He could not truly dislike dancing so very much; she bore witness to his skill. Beauty alone would not convince him to dance, nor would civility, and yet he asked her for a set three times, even after rejection. Elizabeth beamed as she realised the extent of her future husband’s admiration.

  *****

  Darcy sensed a change in Elizabeth by the time he met her in the Gardiners’ parlour earlier that morning. Mrs. Gardiner seemed very sensible, and he knew Elizabeth loved her dearly, so he doubted the older woman said anything to make Elizabeth feel uneasy. Darcy was at a loss to explain the alteration in Elizabeth’s demeanour. She suddenly seemed timid around him and was unusually quiet in the carriage.

  Normally, Darcy enjoyed quiet and solitude. It was when he met Elizabeth that he realised how empty and lonely his life truly was, and the company of the right person was what he really was seeking. He could only suppose it was her mixture of sweetness and archness that coaxed him into occasional animation. Of course, the fates would have their sport in that the one person he wanted most to engage in conversation would be the one who tied his tongue.

  It seemed his many stares did not go unnoticed, but, unfortunately, Elizabeth had woefully misinterpreted them. Yesterday, after she accepted his proposal, he finally spoke openly. Having to restrain himself in the carriage, with the company of her sister, was difficult. Darcy recognised this would often be the situation and began to question the wisdom of courting in London when long, possibly unchaperoned, walks could be taken advantage of more easily in Hertfordshire.

  As the conversation finally became less stilted and turned towards London’s theatrical amusements, Darcy changed his mind again. Perhaps it would not allow for much private conversation, but he relished the animation on his beloved’s face as she spoke of the plays she had seen with her aunt and uncle and the ones she wished to see. They already agreed not to spend much time in London, but after the current discourse, Darcy found he anticipated escorting Elizabeth to the London amusements and the final social engagements of the Season.

  Darcy smiled as he realised that by this time next year, he would be a married man of many months. Perhaps he would enjoy London more as an unavailable married man than a sought-after bachelor. Of course, Elizabeth’s presence would bring the most enjoyment. If all went according to their plans, they would be married nearly six months by the time the Season started. Darcy blushed, wondering if Elizabeth might find herself in a condition in which she would desire to pass even less time in London by then. At that moment, he looked up to see Elizabeth beaming her beautiful smile at him, and he could not breathe.

  Chapter Six

  Tuesday, March 31, 1812 continued

  Longbourn, Hertfordshire

  Mr. Bennet demanded Elizabeth’s presence as soon as she set foot into Longbourn. She followed her father into his study and took a seat, while he paced around the room, looking anxious and grave. She barely spared a thought for the discomfort Darcy must have been feeling in the parlour with her family as he waited for his turn to speak with her father. The idea of causing unhappiness and distress to her father preoccupied her.

  Mr. Bennet shook his head, wiped his hands down his face, and sighed greatly before beginning. “Lizzy, what has hap
pened to make you accept this man? I know you have always hated him.”

  Elizabeth blushed at her father’s words and earnestly wished her former opinions had been more reasonable and moderately expressed. “I do not hate him, Father. I esteem him now. I was under false impressions of his character, and Mr. Darcy improves upon acquaintance. You do not know what he really is.”

  With obvious disbelief, her father asked, “Am I to understand you have learned to love him in a matter of weeks in Kent?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I do not love him...” But I think I can. The thought startled her.

  “I still do not understand. I am shocked by his attachment to you, and I cannot understand your acceptance. He is rich, to be sure, and you may have fine clothes and fine carriages. But will they make you happy?”

  Elizabeth began to grow confused, as she and Darcy both believed Mr. Collins would have sent an express directly detailing his opinion on the encounter yesterday, but her father did not seem to know of the circumstances.

  “And still more, what could necessitate your immediate removal from Kent at so late a time that you must stay with your uncle and then immediately travel here?”

  Elizabeth was unsure what to say when her father spun on her and angrily exclaimed, “Has he done something to compromise you? Has he seduced you? It is the only explanation I can fathom to explain these extraordinary changes.”

  “Father! No, Mr. Darcy is a gentleman; he would never! There was, however, an incident yesterday...”

  “So he did compromise you!”

  Elizabeth held up her hands. “Please listen to what I have to say. Mr. Darcy called on the parsonage and did not know Charlotte and Maria were out. He made to take his leave and tripped on the rug. He happened to fall on me just as the Collinses, Maria, and a maid walked in.”

 

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