“William, really! Your interest was obvious! My only concern is that, while you were enchanted with your debates and her lively mind, I worry she may actually dislike you. I want her for my sister, but I can see you will need my help.”
Darcy had every intention of refuting her claim and commanding her to stay, but she met his gaze with what he knew to be the Darcy spirit of determination, and he conceded. She nearly skipped away to make her plans, and Bingley left with an obvious bounce in his step to order the carriage. As his sister’s words settled in his conscience, it occurred to Darcy he was the only one feeling any trepidation with the scheme. He hoped it was only his continued reservations about the marriage.
*****
Fitzwilliam House, London
10:30 am
Lord Fitzwilliam stared at the letter he held in amazement. His nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy, announced his betrothal to a lady of no consequence in the world. Immediately, he sought out his wife and found her sitting with his sister and niece, who had arrived in Town from Kent for the upcoming Holiday.
“Eleanor, I have just received the most astonishing letter from our nephew Darcy! He is betrothed to some lady from Hertfordshire!”
His wife exclaimed with delight and jumped up to read the letter as well.
Lord Fitzwilliam and his wife were too preoccupied with scanning the contents of the letter to see Lady Catherine’s face contort in anger.
That lady knew she would gain no support from her brother and sister for her long-held plans, and so she quickly suppressed her feelings and coolly inquired, “Who is the fortunate lady?”
Fitzwilliam answered absently, “A Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn.” He looked from his wife to his sister and asked, “Have you heard of her or the estate? What can he be thinking? I did not know he was even courting anyone!”
His wife answered, “Darcy was in Hertfordshire for several weeks. He has clearly fallen in love. You must forgive the boy for not informing you of his every thought.” As usual, no one noticed when Lady Catherine’s daughter, Anne, left the room.
His lordship resumed his puzzled observations, “It is so unlike him! He is always so fastidious and staid! He must not have known her very long, and she appears to be of no consequence in the world. Yet he has passed over all of the ton's fashionable and wealthy ladies.”
Lady Fitzwilliam chuckled, “Of course, he passed over all those insipid ladies, he does not need them. And do you forget how difficult it is to command the heart? You proposed during our first dance, mere minutes after our first meeting!”
“Yes, but you refused me, dear.”
“Naturally, I have always had the most sense in this relationship.” Lady Fitzwilliam’s eyes twinkled with her teasing reply. “Now, write him our congratulations and tell him I insist on hosting a betrothal ball. I shall hear none of his excuses, and I cannot wait to introduce my new niece to our society.”
His lordship left for his study to write his reply, and his wife shortly excused herself to speak with the housekeeper, already consumed with plans for the ball. Several hours went by before either questioned the whereabouts of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Told by the housekeeper that their sister had a headache, they were not concerned until she did not appear for breakfast the next day.
Chapter Three
Longbourn
11:30 am
Elizabeth reread Darcy’s letter several times. She studied his every sentence, and her feelings towards its writer were at times widely different. At first, she was astonished to read that he was in love with her. That alone was gratifying and would answer the dearest wishes of her heart. But this sentiment was followed by anger as she read of his pride and false sense of familial duty. In addition to insulting her family, he declared her unfit to assume the position of wife to a man of his station in life and called his love for her a weakness of character. Most alarming were his claims against Mr. Wickham’s character and his confession of tearing Jane and Mr. Bingley apart.
But on a second perusal, she had to allow that her family’s behaviour was improper. She weighed the matter of Mr. Wickham and concluded that Darcy would never lie about his sister; she was ashamed to realize how prejudiced she had been to have readily accepted Mr. Wickham’s claims without proof. It followed then she was forced to recall that Charlotte believed Jane did not display her feelings enough. Mr. Bingley must have been persuaded that Jane did not love him, and although Darcy gave his opinion, it did not appear he did so with mean intentions. He even admitted that, although conflicted in his feelings, his friend marrying her sister would allow Darcy and Elizabeth to meet again.
The longer she considered it, the more she felt she could understand his reservations, even if she disagreed with his perceptions and mode of statement. She considered again the matter of his pride. Her eyes, now free from prejudice, saw more clearly that his actions and words against their union held some merit. While his manners were not amiable, she could truthfully only accuse him of being too quiet. Was his behaviour really so different from that of her esteemed father, who disliked society so much that he would rarely leave his book room?
Additionally, as little as he may care for the ton, he did owe it to his family—his young sister and future children—to not harm his position in society. He was willing to lay aside his ardent love for her, deny his personal satisfaction and desires, for the good of his family. This could be seen as an honourable sacrifice!
And yet, he said he would reconsider it all if he knew of her regard. She blushed at the thought of him reading her sentiments. Her blush was quickly replaced with agitation when she recalled her own written sentiments were not entirely pleasant. Indeed, they were more offensive than his words. How cruelly did she accuse him of mercilessly destroying her sister’s happiness and of wrongdoing towards Mr. Wickham! He was worthy of every respect and esteem and yet she had rebuked him most vehemently. How heartily did she grieve every ungracious word, every saucy speech!
*****
Darcy House, London
12:00 pm
Charles Bingley had spent the past several hours recalling his every interaction with Miss Jane Bennet and realized he was no closer to feeling assured of her heart. Of one thing he was sure after all the reflection: he was a coward.
His elder brother, Harry, was always self-assured and confident. He was Darcy’s true friend. They met at Eton but became closer friends just after graduating from Cambridge when their father unexpectedly died, leaving the siblings orphans. Having recently been through such a hardship, including being given the guardianship of a much younger sister, Darcy paid a call on Harry, and their steady friendship was established. Two years later, Harry passed from a sudden fever, and Charles was left filling the void. Darcy readily helped his good friend’s brother, and although the younger of the Bingley brothers would not see it, Darcy found himself in a deeper friendship with Charles than he had with Harry regardless of the difference in their ages.
Charles’ father, Hal Bingley, had been amiable and good-natured and made all his new acquaintances forget that he was the son of a carriage maker. Harry was meant to be the first landowner of the family and was driven in his attempts to succeed at his task to raise the family’s consequence. Charles was too easy going for such things, and many who knew him wondered if he might not just rent an estate forever and leave the purchasing to the next generation, but they were wrong. His hesitancy came from fear of making a mistake, of failing his family name, not because he was too happily settled anywhere.
And so it was with matters of the heart. The fear of putting himself out there and proposing to Jane and meeting a refusal or worse, experiencing an indifferent or unhappy marriage, paralyzed him. Darcy’s words of encouragement allowed him to see matters differently. He would take on the yoke of his forefathers and be courageous and bold.
*****
12:30 pm
Darcy House, London
The threesome was packed and ready for an extended stay i
n Hertfordshire when the butler met Darcy with the post as they gathered in the drawing room awaiting the carriage. Darcy still had not rescinded his order that all mail would pass directly from the butler’s hands to his, either sent or received. His eyes widened as he saw the top envelope. It did not bear his full address—simply Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, London—but it was no surprise it found its way to his house. More shocking was the unknown and clearly feminine penmanship. Upon further examination the letter was postmarked from Meryton, Hertfordshire.
“Darcy! Did you hear me? They just announced the carriage is ready.”
Darcy could not hear Bingley over the pounding of his heart. “Forgive me. I have urgent business to attend to.” Darcy did not wait for a reply before departing rapidly for his private study.
He sat behind his desk staring at the letter addressed to him in a delicate, feminine hand. Darcy was terrified. He had not expected any sort of reply from Elizabeth. What was the meaning of the letter in his hands? She was not the sort to break with propriety, and there was no formal engagement between them…yet.
Darcy tried to recall the letter he had written her. Truthfully, he had written it for himself; she was never meant to read it. He could not remember the exact words, but suddenly understanding dawned on him. He chose to be harsh with the reality of the situation to firm his resolve to abandon the acquaintance, intending to read it at a later date. He made it very clear he would never offer for her, and she had no way of knowing he did not intentionally mail the letter.
Bingley’s words reverberated in Darcy's mind. She must be soundly rejecting my sentiments and improper behaviour. But why would she write and risk so much, only to berate me? Such thoughts were unconscionable, and his pride demanded they turn in another direction.
Bingley is wrong, any lady would be flattered by my attentions, and Elizabeth is sensible. I have seen her embarrassed by her family. She will not be offended by my letter. Instead, she must be begging me to return. Fear not, my lovely Elizabeth; I shall declare myself properly quite shortly.
Encouraged by his latest thoughts, he boldly opened the letter.
December 9, 1811
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
Dear Mr. Darcy,
Twice now I have attempted to glean information from you to better understand your character and yet I am no closer to being reconciled with the differing accounts I hear of you.
I have heard from Mr. Bingley what a great friend you are. Yes, I see you are so very kind as to not have a care for his feelings of happiness, and to separate him from my sister, leaving her with disappointed hopes and in misery of the acutest kind. How can wealth and consequence replace affection and love in the ways of happiness? Can you be so lost to feeling as to suggest he marry where he does not love?
How can you be so unfeeling to your sister? What woman would want to marry a man while he loved another? Though perhaps that is more Miss Bingley’s wish, to put forward one Darcy marriage that it might lead to another?
And now I do recall you mentioning Mr. Bingley’s want of resolve. I do not mean to absolve him of blame, though you know his weakness and have showed no difficulty in manipulating his capriciousness.
I should not be surprised you can treat Mr. Bingley so meanly when I recall your mistreatment towards Mr. Wickham. You wilfully and wantonly threw off the companion of your youth, the favourite of your father, who had no other dependence but on your patronage and was brought up to expect it, for no other reason than jealousy of your father’s attention.
But can you really be so dishonourable? Perhaps your actions towards Bingley are not proof of a selfish disdain for the feelings of others, but rather it does not occur to you their feelings may differ from yours. Perhaps Mr. Wickham has been misrepresented to you in some way. I am so weak as to try to find excuses for your behaviour. But these thoughts must simply be fanciful wishes on my part.
I find myself provoking arguments with you so I might find more faults, to remind myself of why I should not esteem you. Yet when we converse, I find you are exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit me. Your understanding and temper, though unlike my own, would have answered all my wishes. By my ease and liveliness your mind might be softened, your manners improved; and from your judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, I would receive benefit of greater importance.
To be truthful, I know no actual good of you, yet against my reason and my will I feel an unfathomable connection to you. I know you to be a proud and unpleasant sort of man. You have done nothing but give offence in Hertfordshire, giving every appearance of haughtiness towards our company and yet, this means nothing for I find that I love you.
And I hate you for it.
I could not be happy or respectable unless I can truly esteem my husband and look to him as a superior. How could I ever feel that way about you, with these faults in your character? You are the last man in the world I should be prevailed upon to marry, but I admit you are the first, and likely only, man I can be persuaded to love.
Oh! I am a silly creature. That I should even see fit to remind myself that love need not lead to matrimony when you have openly shown your disdain for me, my family, and the very community in which I reside. I even know you are destined for your cousin. However, all the logic and reason in the world cannot persuade my heart from breaking at the thought of yours never being mine.
Inexplicably yours,
Elizabeth Bennet
Darcy could not credit what he read. Elizabeth loved him! He perused the letter again, entirely uncertain why she had mailed it in the first place. Only to berate him? To declare her sentiments anyway, in some small glimmer of hope?
Darcy could not determine a satisfactory answer to his question. It does not matter why it has been sent. My honour has been engaged, and I love her. The other letters have been sent, and the arrangements have been made. We shall marry. We shall!
His reverie was interrupted by his butler’s entrance with an express from Mr. Bennet. With great uncertainty, he read the message. It was as sufficiently brief, seemingly disinterested, and written with the same kind of wry sense of humour Darcy had come to expect of the man.
December 10, 1811
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
Dear Mr. Darcy,
I request an audience with you at your earliest convenience. I invite you to stay and dine with the family. I do believe Mrs. Bennet has ordered fish for tonight.
Yours etc.,
T. Bennet
Darcy wondered if Mr. Bennet would have even bothered at all if not for his favourite daughter's reputation being at stake. The letter he had written George Wickham, after the cur had attempted an elopement with his sister, was decidedly more forceful and less kind. Pondering Mr. Bennet and all other matters would have to wait. His carriage was ready, and so was he. He hoped.
*****
Longbourn
1:00 pm
Thomas Bennet glanced at his watch and wondered if Darcy would have received his express by now. He was surprised when not many more minutes passed before an express rider was announced.
Tuesday, December 10, 1811
Darcy House, London
Dear Mr. Bennet,
I must speak with you immediately on an urgent matter. You may expect me this afternoon before dinner. I shall stay at Netherfield Park, so as not to inconvenience your family.
Yours etc.
F. Darcy
Mr. Bennet sighed with immense relief when he read Mr. Darcy’s plans and realized it must have been sent before the young man had received Mr. Bennet’s express. Why would he come unbidden after writing he would not marry her? Mr. Darcy, you puzzle me exceedingly!
Although offended at the man’s words in Elizabeth’s letter, he could easily see the sincere admiration Mr. Darcy held for Elizabeth shine through. Recalling his own courtship from many years before, he hoped the young man’s affection was strong enough to ask for her hand in marriage should the letters remain
unknown.
*****
Fitzwilliam House
1:00 pm
“Good G-d! Can it be?” Richard Fitzwilliam exclaimed just inside his father's study, drawing the notice of his younger sisters who were walking by.
“Richard, we did not know you had come already!” the younger, Alice, spoke. The pair greeted him with a kiss.
“Yes, I am hiding from our aunt, what else?”
“What are you reading?” asked Emilia, the older sister, while glancing at the letter in her brother's hand.
“Darcy is to be married! He wrote father!”
“Married?” Emilia cried in disbelief.
“To whom?” Alice desired to know.
“A Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. Do you know of her?”
The sisters shared a look and replied in the negative.
“He met her while visiting the estate his friend Bingley is renting in Hertfordshire.”
“Hertfordshire? He has been there all this time? I thought he returned to Town recently.” Alice asked.
“All this time? He is marrying a woman of six weeks acquaintance, for he has been in Town for nearly a fortnight now. Oh, how do we know she is not a fortune hunter?” Emilia interjected with alarm.
“Darcy would never succumb to a fortune hunter, but oh! How romantic to be swept away with love while on a holiday!”
“Calm yourself, Milly. Darcy has withstood London's most mercenary ladies and their mammas. Alice, you should know he could never be carried away by romance and infatuation. The attachment may seem sudden, but I trust his decision.”
The scurrying footsteps of a frightened maid reminded them all of the visit of one who would not trust their cousin's decision nor find his choice romantic. Glancing at the clock in the study, they reached a decision unanimously.
Compromising Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Anthology Page 55