The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Victoria Kincaid

  Darcy supposed if he had been merely courting Elizabeth, Fenton’s pronouncement would have been distressing, but he knew Elizabeth could not have possibly have accepted this man. He could not even be jealous of him. Everything about him was so ridiculous and overbearing that he would never hold Elizabeth’s interest. How had this man fallen under the delusion that he was engaged to her?

  He took another sip of tea to quell his faux coughing fit and gazed levelly at Fenton. “May I ask when this felicitous event took place?” Darcy now noticed that Mary and Kitty seemed a little surprised at Fenton’s announcement, although they did not contradict it.

  “Yesterday afternoon right over there in the garden!” Fenton exclaimed rapturously. “She is quite a sensible woman. She will fulfill the requirements for lady of my manor admirably.” I suppose that is high praise in Fenton’s mind. How romantic. Fenton went on to describe how Elizabeth would care for his seven children and leave him to the business of running the estate – and to go hunting as often as he wished. He does not want a wife, he wants an unpaid governess! Darcy realized.

  “And I told her last night at dinner – I was sitting next to her, you understand – I would utter not one word of reproach about her parents’ neglect.” How generous of him, Darcy thought. Fenton carried on pompously: “Neglect which allowed her sister to behave so shamefully. It is the weakness of the parents, not the sister, that should be faulted.” Darcy wondered how the two Bennet girls felt hearing their parents described thus. Kitty shifted uncomfortably in her chair, but Mary’s expression was unreadable. Darcy wanted to castigate the man for even raising the subject, although it was obviously on everyone’s mind. “It is a shameful business, but I reassured her that no one in Surrey will have heard of it.” What an insufferable boor; I am sorry Elizabeth had to endure even one dinner with him.

  Bingley frequently shot sympathetic looks at Darcy, believing the other man to be heartbroken over losing Elizabeth. Darcy returned smiles, trying to indicate there was no cause for worry, but Bingley only frowned in confusion.

  Given free rein on the conversation, Fenton took to boasting about his property and his house. He knew from the Bennets that Bingley had only leased Netherfield and, in Fenton’s mind, that made him the better man. Ancestral lands, he declared, were the backbone of England. He then turned to Darcy, apparently hoping to best him as well, so Darcy took great pleasure in describing Pemberley and his holdings. Fenton admitted to having heard of Pemberley and then appeared a bit awed of Darcy. He soon turned the conversation to another topic.

  Finally, Mrs. Bennet came downstairs, effusing over Bingley and Fenton. She spared little attention for Darcy, who recognized her encouragement of Fenton as a probable reason the man thought Elizabeth might accept him. The irony struck him forcefully as he thought how differently Mrs. Bennet would behave if she knew how matters truly stood. On the other hand, perhaps he was better off if she remained unaware; he should enjoy her neglect while he could.

  Mrs. Bennet made a fuss over serving tea to Fenton, but then fell victim to a monologue about his latest fox hunt. Bingley took the opportunity to lean over and speak with Darcy in a low voice. “What a shame you had your hopes for a future with Miss Elizabeth dashed in this way. Though I must say you are taking it remarkably well. Perhaps you did not have that great an attachment to her?”

  Darcy’s smile was unperturbed. “I am completely unconcerned about this man’s claims. I know that Elizabeth would not accept him. He is mistaken.”

  “It is not the sort of topic one is usually mistaken about,” Bingley said tentatively.

  “Unless one is a fool,” Darcy responded.

  “You seem very certain about Miss Elizabeth. Do you have some sort of secret understanding with her?” Bingley asked with a suspicious look at his friend.

  Darcy realized he must reveal some information to the other man. “Something like that.”

  Bingley shook his head. “Even so, I do not know how you can be so certain. If he had said that about Jane, I would be heartbroken.” Darcy shrugged, knowing he could reveal nothing more and Bingley was soon drawn into the conversation about hunting.

  Soon thereafter Elizabeth and Jane returned from Meryton. They were very surprised to see Darcy and Bingley already in the drawing room speaking with their mother and Mr. Fenton. Darcy could not tear his eyes away from Elizabeth and reveled in the complete rapture on her face as she gazed at him.

  The men rose when the sisters entered the room. Elizabeth curtseyed to Darcy and Bingley, coloring a little. It was all he could to refrain from grabbing her and kissing her right there, so acutely had he missed her. As he continued to stare, Bingley coughed slightly and Darcy realized everyone was sitting down once more.

  Elizabeth seated herself next to her mother on a small settee. Darcy wanted to sit on the other side, but her mother made a show of having Fenton take that spot, placing him far closer to Elizabeth than Darcy was comfortable with. On the other hand, he would not have been happy until Fenton was in a different house. Although he did not see Fenton as a serious rival for Elizabeth’s affections, that did not stop him from wanting to punch the man in his smug face and warn him away from her for the rest of his life.

  Darcy ground his teeth in frustration, attempting to content himself with sitting across from Elizabeth and gazing on her. Everything about her was enchanting: her laugh, the unruly curl that fell over her forehead, her long eyelashes veiling her eyes as she gazed at him. Knowing firsthand how passionate she could be only made it harder for him to be so tantalizingly close, but unable to touch her.

  Although he did not wish Elizabeth any unhappiness, he was pleased with her obvious dislike of Fenton’s presence. His boorish conversation made her wince, although he did not dominate the discussion as much as he had in a smaller group. She avoided talking to him or looking at him – at one point in the gathering, Fenton leaned closer to her and she pulled away. All of this was not lost on Darcy. Although he had no doubts about Elizabeth’s fidelity, Fenton’s presumption was testing his self-control. He wanted to smash that supercilious expression off the other man’s face!

  Unable to bear it any longer, Darcy finally said, “After being confined in the carriage at such length, I experience a need to stretch my legs. Mrs. Bennet, I would like to take a turn in your garden.” She nodded curtly, uninterested in what he did.

  “Mr. Darcy, would you mind if I joined you?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Not at all.” He smiled warmly at her, wondering if there was any chance they could find a secluded spot.

  “Nonsense, child!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “You just returned from a walk to Meryton. What need have you for exercise?”

  “I would like to show Mr. Darcy the roses. They are particularly fine now and I was telling him about them when I saw him in London at my aunt and uncle’s,” Elizabeth said.

  “Very well, if you must!” Mrs. Bennet washed her hands of her second daughter, but then a thought occurred to her. “Mr. Fenton, perhaps you would like a turn in the garden as well?”

  Darcy cursed inwardly; his entire design was to avoid Fenton’s presence – especially since the man was one of the topics he needed to discuss with Elizabeth. He saw his dismay mirrored in her eyes.

  “I am not much interested in gardens,” Fenton said. “I prefer woods. So I think I will forego this excursion.” More the fool you, Darcy thought, exhilarated at the reprieve. Fenton would never win Elizabeth’s regard that way, but then he seemed more interested in wedding her than wooing her.

  Bingley had been gazing silently at Jane, trying to discern her mood. He stood as well. “I think I will join you. It was a long carriage ride. Miss Bennet, will you do me the honor of accompanying me?”

  Jane readily assented and the four of them set off. Once outside, the two couples split apart by tacit agreement, although Bingley gave Elizabeth some anxious glances to reassure himself that she welcomed Darcy’s attention. Elizabeth led Darcy to the roses that neither ha
d any interest in. Knowing that they were still in view of the house, Darcy turned his broad back to the windows, shielding Elizabeth from view entirely. Then he took her hand and kissed it tenderly.

  “How I have missed you! The hours passed so slowly.” He said heatedly.

  She nodded agreement and gave him a heart stopping smile. “I hope we never have to be separated like that again. But I am very happy you are here now.”

  “I am as well. Apparently I am arrived in time to prevent you from committing bigamy. Mr. Fenton told us that you are engaged to him.”

  “He said that?” Her hand flew to her mouth in dismay. “That fool!” She stamped her foot as embarrassment gave way to anger. “I- I- refused him yesterday, but he would not accept it. He thinks that my mother’s approval is all that is required.” Her eyes met Darcy’s. “I am so sorry, William, for any pain it caused you.”

  “I must admit that his announcement came as something of a shock. And poor Bingley was afraid I would die of a broken heart right there in the drawing room. But then I almost burst into laughter. After all, the whole situation is entirely ridiculous.”

  Elizabeth returned his smile. “It is humorous. The man droned on about his house and his horses and simply would not believe me when I told him no!” She gazed up at him with a twinkle in her eye. “I had thought that being married would mean I would receive no more offers of marriage. How silly of me!”

  “Well, madam, I do hope that you will not expect to receive more proposals during our marriage,” he said with a smile.

  “I do not know. I am accumulating quite a collection of them. Perhaps only one or two a year would suffice,” she said flirtatiously. “If you do not mind, sir?”

  The playful expression on her face was too much for Darcy. “I must object quite adamantly!” He pulled her behind a tree, kissing her as thoroughly as he had wanted all day. She returned his kisses with equal passion. When they stopped, gasping for breath, Elizabeth said, “I am afraid we must return to where we are visible from the window or my mother will come seeking us – or worse, send Mr. Fenton.”

  He gave her one last kiss and then they strolled out from behind the tree. She took his arm and they walked about as if admiring the flowers, but the only beauty that held Darcy’s interest was his wife’s. She sighed, “I wish I knew what to do about Mr. Fenton. He would not listen when I told him no – and I cannot reveal the one reason which would discourage him permanently. A more sensitive man might notice my partiality for you, but I am certain he is blind to it.” She shuddered. “I hate to think what he has been saying in Meryton. Soon the entire neighborhood will believe I am marrying him!”

  Darcy felt a surge of anger toward Fenton for causing her any distress, but then he thought of a solution. “My love,” he said with a wicked grin. “Leave this to me. I am happy to be of service to you in this regard.”

  “What do you plan to do?” She asked, returning his smile.

  “You shall see,” was all he would say. They spied Jane and Bingley standing near the entrance to the garden and walked over to join the other couple. Soon they were engaged a humorous conversation about Mr. Fenton’s misconceptions. Even Jane, who never thought ill of anyone, had to admit that the man’s failure to accept Elizabeth’s refusal made him somewhat ridiculous. In that moment, it was all Darcy could do to avoid revealing the truth of his relationship with Elizabeth.

  Jane soon admitted to being chilled, so she and Bingley returned to the house. Darcy was loath to relinquish Elizabeth so quickly and she was happy to delay facing the odious Fenton, so they walked to the far side of the garden, admiring the late summer flowers. They were holding hands and conversing quietly with their heads bowed when Darcy spied Fenton emerging from the house. Darcy immediately placed his arm around Elizabeth and gave her a light kiss. It was not the thorough, deep kisses they had enjoyed earlier, but it was unmistakably a kiss. After they separated, Elizabeth glanced at Fenton, who was frowning over Darcy’s liberties with his “fiancée.”

  “William, what if he says something to my father?” Elizabeth asked.

  Darcy replied to her, but gave Fenton a long, steady look. “I have a plan, my love. You go into the house. I must converse with Mr. Fenton.” Elizabeth was curious as to what the plan entailed, but she went to the house without another word. Before she entered the house, she turned back and saw Darcy sauntering over to where Fenton stood near the roses.

  Elizabeth joined Jane and Bingley in the drawing room and, after a few minutes, Darcy also arrived, but volunteered nothing about his conversation with Fenton. Unable to contain her curiosity, Elizabeth ventured into the hall, ostensibly in search of her mother.

  Surprisingly, Fenton had already departed, but her mother was standing the hallway, wringing her hands in agitation. She rounded on her second oldest daughter when she emerged from the drawing room. “Oh, what did you do? Mr. Fenton says he was too hasty! He says he needs to talk to your father about the engagement, but did not want to do it today. What happened?” Mrs. Bennet fluttered around the hallway. “Oh my poor nerves! Things were going so well. What did you do to put him off? Did you have a row? Perhaps there is still some hope of repairing the damage!”

  Elizabeth replied truthfully that she had not spoken to Mr. Fenton at all in the garden and that his behavior was a mystery to her. Returning to the drawing room, she wondered what Darcy could possibly have said to him; however, there was no opportunity for a private conversation.

  All too soon the sun was growing lower in the sky and it was time for the gentlemen to leave for Netherfield. Elizabeth and Jane walked out with them to their carriage. Bingley and Jane soon fell to murmuring to each other. As they stood on the sweep of the drive, Elizabeth turned to Darcy. “What did you say to Mr. Fenton?”

  Darcy gave a small smile. “I merely reminded him that he did not have your father’s permission to marry you and that he should not be so quick to announce an engagement without it.”

  “That cannot be the whole of your conversation! What did he say about the kiss?”

  “We did not discuss it directly, but he realizes if he tells anyone about the kiss, your father will say I have to marry you. I do not believe he has given up hope of you, but now he knows there is competition. So he shall be more discreet in his courtship.”

  “You, sir, are diabolical!” Darcy merely grinned. “Of course, what I wish is not for him to be discreet, but to leave Hertfordshire and never return, but we cannot have everything. He will soon learn he cannot compete with you.”

  His eyes shone brightly as he kissed her hand and murmured, “It is my pleasure to discourage other men from proposing to my wife.” The kiss sent a thrill down Elizabeth’s spine, turning what could have been a flippant statement into an endearment.

  Too soon the men had said their goodbyes and climbed reluctantly into the carriage. Elizabeth walked with Jane back into the house, their feet crunching on the gravel of the drive. She missed Darcy already.

  By the time dinner had ended, Elizabeth had had enough of her mother’s harangues. She took tea to her father in his study, hoping he would offer her temporary shelter. Her exasperated expression made him smile as he put down his book. “At least your mother knew better this time than to ask me to advocate for Mr. Fenton. She knows I would never attempt to compel you against your will.”

  “I know, Papa. I appreciate it – that you trust my judgment.” She sighed in frustration. “I just wish Mr. Fenton would stop his visits. Today, he told Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley that we are engaged!”

  Mr. Bennet laughed despite the chagrin on Elizabeth’s face and she found herself wishing he did not see everything as a source of humor. He shook his head. “I would hope Bingley had the sense not to believe such a tale. And who cares what Mr. Darcy thinks? His opinion of you is already so low.”

  Elizabeth winced at this sentiment, but recognized an opportunity to discuss her change of heart as she seated herself in a chair opposite her father’s desk. “Act
ually I believe Mr. Darcy improves upon further acquaintance.”

  “Truly, Lizzy?” Her father regarded her skeptically over the top of his glasses.

  “Yes. I saw him in Paris and he was quite amiable. He danced with me at a ball and invited us to see the sights with him on a number of occasions.”

  “Indeed? Well, he must have found the society in Paris somewhat thin to stoop to visiting with someone who is only tolerable, eh?” His smile invited her to share the joke.

  “I do not believe that to be the case,” Elizabeth attempted to display all the earnestness she could muster. Not for the first time she wished she had been less vociferous in sharing her previous opinions about Darcy.

  However, she recognized a losing battle when she was faced with it. Her father’s eyes were drifting down to the book open on his desk. He never had a long attention span for this type of conversation, and clearly it had been exhausted.

  “I will leave you to your book.” He nodded absently to her and she left the room, hoping she had made a little progress in changing her father’s opinion of Darcy, but recognizing how far they still had to go.

  The next day, Darcy and Bingley joined the Bennets for luncheon. Elizabeth knew her mother had only invited Darcy because she could not politely exclude Bingley’s guest. Nor, clearly, did Mrs. Bennet suspect his regard for Elizabeth because her mother seated him as distantly from her as possible. As they sat to eat, Darcy gave her a hopeless look and she rolled her eyes in sympathy, but there was no recourse.

  Frequently when she glanced up from her meal, she observed Darcy’s eyes on her and knew he experienced the same longing she did. His eyes held so much love and desire that Elizabeth thought surely he had betrayed their secret to the others. She did notice Bingley’s eyes traveling from Darcy to her with raised eyebrows, but no one else seemed to pay them any mind.

  After luncheon her mother retired to rest her nerves and Kitty and Mary left for a visit to Maria Lucas. In the drawing room Darcy managed to secure a seat next to Elizabeth, but her father was on the other side, so they dared not attempt any form of intimacy. By now Elizabeth had an almost palpable sense of yearning for his touch and reassurance and, from the glances he bestowed on her, Elizabeth was certain Darcy was feeling the same.