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

by Victoria Kincaid

  “Yes, sir.”

  “By what right have you interfered in my family’s affairs?” Darcy winced at the anger in the older man’s tone.

  “I thought—”

  “I do not recall asking for your assistance, Mr. Darcy!” Darcy could see that the older man’s embarrassment at the situation was turning to anger and tried not to react.

  “When we returned from France, the Gardiners told us the whole story. Miss Elizabeth seemed so distressed that I thought to be of what assistance I could. I only regret it has taken my men so long to discover her.” Darcy strove to keep his tone even.

  They were frozen in a tableau for a moment; then Mr. Bennet dropped his head into his hands, “I apologize. I do not mean to seem ungrateful. I have not accustomed myself to the public nature of this misadventure.”

  “That is completely understandable, sir. I will, however, tell you that I am not disinterested Wickham’s misdeeds. I have had some unpleasant dealings with him in the past. Less than a year ago he attempted something similar with my sister to what he has done with Miss Lydia.”

  Mr. Bennet beheld him in fascination. “Indeed? I had wondered why you wanted to involve yourself in this situation.”

  Darcy nodded, slightly guilty for concealing some of his motives. “I am to blame for not having revealed Wickham’s true character before this. If I had, then this could not have taken place.”

  Mr. Bennet shook his head slowly. “You take too much on yourself. And, I fear you underestimate the stupidity of my youngest daughter, but, be that as it may, I am grateful for your help.”

  “I am sorry my investigators have not uncovered more about Wickham’s whereabouts. But I have confidence they will find him.” Darcy assured him.

  “Thank you. Knowing that Lydia is safe does much to ease my mind.” He gave an ironic smile. “Although, of my daughters, I had not thought she was the one you were interested in.”

  Knowing that they were venturing into dangerous territory, Darcy said, “Miss Elizabeth was most upset about Lydia’s disappearance. I must admit I hoped to ease her mind.”

  “I see. That is very noble of you.” Mr. Bennet said with a small smile as he regarded Darcy expectantly.

  The silence hung between them. Darcy considered revealing the whole truth to Mr. Bennet, but was loath to disturb the fragile peace that had developed between them. He stood, “I have trespassed on your privacy long enough. However, I will bring word if I hear more from my investigators.” He saw disappointment – and maybe some anger – flash across the other man’s face. But it was soon replaced by Mr. Bennet’s customary amused detachment.

  Mr. Bennet stood as well. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I shall write to my brother Gardiner right away.”

  Mrs. Bennet was relieved to hear Elizabeth’s news about Lydia, but immediately started fretting about what could be done if Wickham could not be made to marry her. She wanted “poor, dear Lydia” to return to Longbourn, but Elizabeth pointed out that Lydia’s arrival without Wickham would only confirm the worst suspicions about her behavior. Her mother eventually conceded the point and, after an attack of nerves, took to her bed.

  Thus relieved of her responsibility to her mother, Elizabeth went to the drawing room to await Darcy’s emergence from his conversation with her father. She hoped her father would be grateful rather than angry at Darcy’s assistance.

  She had taken up her needlework when Hill arrived to announce, “Mr. Fenton, Miss.” This was swiftly followed by the man himself. Good Lord! What is he doing here? She believed he had given her up – and had been quite content at the thought. Perhaps, she mused hopefully, he had fixed his attentions on Mary or Kitty – since any marriageable female would do for him – although she would not wish him on anyone.

  She stood as he entered and was about to ask Hill to invite her sisters to be chaperones, when Fenton took her hand rather violently. “I am so happy to find you alone!” Thinking to be discreet, Hill shut the door to the drawing room, leaving them truly alone. Elizabeth tried to pull her hand from Fenton’s but he would not let go. How many proposals from the man must I turn down?

  “Mr. Fenton, I—”

  He continued as if she had not said anything. “I must admit I was quite shocked. Quite shocked, I tell you, at that Darcy fellow’s implications. It took me several days – and quite a few whiskeys, I don’t mind telling you – to get over the surprise.”

  “That really was not necessary,” Elizabeth murmured, but he barreled on, not hearing her.

  “But, then I thought to myself, Robert, what does it matter? Maybe this rake has stolen a few kisses. I mean, I would have if I had had the opportunity.” Here he leered at her in a most unbecoming way. “So, what if he imposed himself? That isn’t her fault. He may have been warning me away from her, but it’s not like he would marry her! A fellow like that!” He laughed as if he had made quite a joke.

  Elizabeth was losing count of the ways in which the man had insulted her and Darcy. “Mr. Fenton, I must insist—!”

  It was as if her words were the buzzing of flies. He paid no mind. “I am here to tell you I am willing to take you back. The engagement is not broken. All is forgiven. So what if he has sampled the wares? I would not mind that myself, I tell you—”

  Elizabeth had been slowly backing away as far as the room would allow, but he crossed it quickly and pulled her to him roughly. She tried to tear herself away, but his hands were like vises on her shoulders as his lips came down on hers. Closing her mouth tightly, she attempted to twist her face away, but he bore down, his lips cold and wet and insistent. No matter how she turned her head, his lips followed her. She tried again to pull away, but he was strong and her struggles only made him grasp her more tightly.

  Suddenly Fenton was wrenched away from her. She opened her eyes just in time to see Darcy spin Fenton around to face him. He pulled his arm back and punched the other man squarely in the jaw. Fenton was not as tall as Darcy, but he was burly and solidly built. Nonetheless, he crumpled to the floor. Darcy hauled him up by his collar and punched him again causing Fenton to cry out. Darcy hauled back to hit him again, but Elizabeth called out, “William, enough!” Darcy started at the sound of her voice and then allowed Fenton to slip to the floor.

  A moment later, Mr. Bennet strode through the door, his eyes flashing in agitation. He took in the scene: Fenton’s nose was bloody and his eye was beginning to swell. Darcy stood over him, looking murderous. Elizabeth was flushed and trying to hold back tears.

  “What, may I ask, has been happening in my drawing room?” Mr. Bennet asked.

  Darcy glared down on Fenton fiercely. “He kissed Elizabeth.”

  “I see.” Mr. Bennet’s gaze sought his daughter’s.

  “I tried to stop him,” she explained, two tears escaped down her cheeks. “But he keeps insisting we are engaged even though I said I would not marry him.” Darcy’s attention was now riveted on Elizabeth’s face. Abandoning Fenton, he crossed the room to her.

  From the floor, Fenton said, “Darcy warned me aware from her. He’s been sampling the wares, he has! Right here in your garden! I saw them! He’s been kissing her and probably more!” His voice was somewhat muffled by the handkerchief he was holding to his bloody nose. Elizabeth did not think she had ever experienced so much mortification in her life, but Darcy’s arms around her were an inexpressible comfort. At that moment, she did not care what her father thought. Mr. Bennet had been watching Fenton, but when he looked back at his daughter, his eyes narrowed.

  “Somehow I am not finding that part of your story hard to believe, Mr. Fenton,” Mr. Bennet said dryly. “Lizzy, am I to take it that you find Mr. Darcy’s kisses welcome while Mr. Fenton’s are unwelcome?”

  Darcy dropped his arms around Elizabeth, but did not move away from her. Blushing, she replied, “Yes, Papa.” She grasped the back of a chair for support.

  Mr. Bennet turned back to Fenton, who had finally dragged himself up from the floor with the aid of a chair. �
��Well, I am afraid it is a hopeless business, Mr. Fenton. She does not prefer your kisses.”

  “But, but – It is highly improper – He should not be – They are not engaged! They should—” spluttered Fenton.

  Mr. Bennet shot the couple a sharp look, then turned back to Fenton. “Yes, well, be that as it may, I think it is time for you to depart.” Firmly, Mr. Bennet took the other man by the elbow and ushered him from the room, ignoring Fenton’s torrent of indignant protests. Elizabeth hoped his exclamations were not enough to draw her mother from upstairs, knowing her presence would only worsen the situation.

  Once Mr. Bennet had exited the room, Darcy immediately resumed his embrace of Elizabeth. “Are you all right, beloved? I am sorry I did not come sooner. If I had known—!”

  “I am fine.” She wiped her hand across her mouth. “If I could only wipe the memory of that kiss from my mind! Uggh!”

  “Perhaps we can replace it with a better memory.”

  He touched his lips gently to hers for a moment, but she pulled reluctantly away. “We had better not. We are in enough trouble.” Elizabeth felt herself blushing again.

  Mr. Bennet returned to the room, his expression stormy and not even vaguely amused. “Mr. Darcy, would you be so kind as to join me in my library?” The extreme politeness of his phrasing only underscored his anger.

  “Yes, sir.” Darcy started toward the door.

  “I am coming as well,” Elizabeth declared. Both men regarded her in surprise. “Do I not have a right to be present?”

  “Lizzy—” Her father said in exasperation.

  “Oh, the subject of your discussion does not concern me?” She said with asperity.

  Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes, but Darcy shrugged. “She does make a fair point.” Her father’s eyes flashed with anger for a moment, but then he shrugged in acquiescence.

  Once in the library, Mr. Bennet seated himself behind his desk and the others took chairs opposite him. To the casual observer, he might appear calm, but Elizabeth noticed he was fairly trembling with anger. Given his recent trouble with Lydia, Elizabeth could hardly blame him. She now wished that she and Darcy had been more discreet, but she could hardly have anticipated Fenton’s actions.

  “I sincerely apologize for creating a scene in your house. It was not my intention,” Darcy said at once.

  Mr. Bennet shifted uneasily in his chair. “Yes, well, I appreciate your defense of Elizabeth’s honor, but – “He skewered Darcy with an angry glare. “—I am not certain you can be entrusted with the care of her reputation either. I want to know your intentions to my daughter, sir.”

  Darcy’s reply was calm, but Elizabeth noticed a muscle in his jaw clench as he struggled to control his agitation. “My intentions are honorable.”

  Mr. Bennet stood and started pacing behind his desk. “Truly, sir, I find that hard to credit!” Darcy started a little at this insult, but said nothing. “I have been waiting for you to declare your intentions – to ask for permission to court Lizzy or marry her, but you have not taken the opportunity. You compromised her reputation in France, but seem to exhibit no concern about it. And now I find out that you have been kissing her in my garden! While I am grateful for your efforts on Lydia’s behalf, that hardly gives you permission to—”

  “Mr. Bennet—” Darcy began, but the other man was on a roll.

  “And you, Lizzy!” He rounded on his daughter. “I thought you had more sense than Lydia! What do you think you are about, allowing these kinds of attentions? When word gets out about your sojourn in France and your behavior here, any remaining shreds of respectability our family enjoys will be completely destroyed! And, believe me, they will learn of it one way or another! Do you think our friend Fenton will keep quiet for long? Bingley will withdraw his offer for Jane. Kitty and Mary will never make respectable marriages!” His anger was so ferocious that Elizabeth found herself drawing back from him instinctively.

  “Mr. Bennet!” Darcy’s commanding voice compelled Elizabeth’s father to shift his attention. “It is true that we have been concealing something from you. But I have a good reason why I could not seek your permission to marry Elizabeth—”

  “Because you are already promised to your cousin?” Mr. Bennet said with a low growl.

  “No!” Darcy replied firmly. “It is because—” Darcy swallowed convulsively. “Because, Elizabeth and I are already married. We were married in France.”

  For the second time that day, Mr. Bennet stared at Darcy with his mouth agape. Then he sought his chair with one hand, sinking into it while staring at Darcy and Elizabeth. “How…How...?” He repeated weakly. Then he took a deep breath and seemed to find his voice. “How dare you? How dare you!” He shouted, pounding his fist on the desk.

  “Are you telling me her reputation was already so thoroughly compromised that—?” Suddenly all the fire went out of him and he collapsed further into his chair. He beheld Elizabeth sadly. “That must be it. For I know you have always disliked this man. Forgive me, Elizabeth, your uncle and I have failed you.”

  “No, Papa!” Elizabeth blushed with equal measures of anger and mortification. “Mr. Darcy would never – he was a perfect gentleman.” She was struck by an odd desire to comfort her father even as he glared at her. “No one has failed me. I made this decision of my own free will.”

  Mr. Bennet was shaking his head, apparently heedless to Elizabeth’s words. Then his expression grew even more horror-stricken as he turned to Elizabeth. “Is it that you are with child?”

  “No!” Elizabeth was sure her cheeks must be flaming red by now.

  “Mr. Bennet,” Darcy intervened. “I told you that Elizabeth nearly died in France. Because of that experience, she had no desire to wait to be married. I had proposed and she accepted, but she…did not wish to wait any longer….” As he said the words, Darcy realized how inadequate their reasoning sounded now. Why would his father-in-law ever believe such a justification?

  “This is reprehensible!” Mr. Bennet banged his desk with the flat of his hand, although he hardly raised his voice. “You have been deceiving me under my own roof!”

  “I am sorry, Papa,” Elizabeth said softly. “We had thought to tell you as soon as we returned, but then were greeted by the news about Lydia, so we believed it would be better to wait. Perhaps that was not the best plan….”

  Mr. Bennet was rubbing his forehead with one hand. “When word of this escapes, our whole family shall be the laughingstock of Meryton!”

  “Papa!” Elizabeth said sharply, drawing herself up more fully in her straight-backed chair. “While I admit that these circumstances are not what you would have chosen, the fact that I am married to a highly eligible man is hardly cause for shame. It cannot be placed in the same category as Lydia’s elopement with a debt-ridden militia officer!”

  “Yes, but, there will still be gossip.” Mr. Bennet glared at her. “A hurried wedding always occasions talk – doubly so following Lydia’s escapades.”

  Darcy cleared his throat. “May I point out that very few people know of our marriage? If you would prefer, we can conceal it for the present. At least until Wickham can be located and be made to marry Lydia. Such would be my preference as well. For reasons of their own, my family would be happier with a delay.”

  “Hmm….” Mr. Bennet mulled this over, staring intently at his hands. “How many other people are aware of your scandalous behavior?”

  Ignoring this jibe, Elizabeth replied, “William’s cousin and sister. And we told Jane and Mr. Bingley last night. Also, a couple people in France.”

  “But what about Fenton?” Mr. Bennet asked. “He has no incentive to keep quiet about what he saw in the drawing room.”

  Elizabeth was at a loss, conceiving of no way to work on such a man. But Darcy spoke: “I will pay Mr. Fenton a visit later. I think I can persuade him to remain discreet.” Elizabeth was not sure what kind of pressure Darcy would apply, but if he was confident of success, that was enough for her.

&nbs
p; Finally her father appeared to be calming himself. “If it is possible to stem the gossip even temporarily…That would be well….”

  Darcy took advantage of Mr. Bennet’s improved mood. Slowly he pulled out some papers from his coat pocket. “While I was in London, I had my solicitor draw up settlement papers for our marriage. They arrange a sum of money to be settled on Elizabeth and provide for her should I die without an heir. I do regret that circumstances would not allow you to approve them before the ceremony. Would you like to peruse them now?”

  Elizabeth regarded Darcy with surprise; this was the first she had learned of a settlement, although they were a customary part of many marriages. Wordlessly, Mr. Bennet held out his hand with a resigned air. Darcy placed the papers in her father’s hand. They both watched his face as he inspected them – and as his belligerent expression turned to one of surprise. Finally he frowned at Darcy, “This is exceedingly generous. Are you certain you can spare the money for such a settlement?”

  Elizabeth knew Darcy would be loath to discuss his financial affairs with anyone, but he was aware such a conversation might partially alleviate some of his father-in-law’s distress. “I know that all of Hertfordshire has been talking of my ten thousand pounds a year; I never felt it necessary to correct that impression. The truth is that my holdings amount to far more.” Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide at this news. They had never had cause to discuss his assets. As he continued to talk with Mr. Bennet, he gazed steadily at her. “The settlement will not cause any hardship and it is no less than Elizabeth deserves.” She seemed doomed to blush her way through the day, she thought, as she felt her cheeks grow warm once more.

  Mr. Bennet put down the papers and sighed. “Very well, young man, I can see that your intentions toward my daughter are honorable and your affection for her is genuine. I only wish you could have conducted your affairs in a more orderly fashion.”

  Elizabeth turned her attention back to her father and grinned impishly. “What else would you expect of me, Papa?”