Meant to Be: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Andreea Catana

Elizabeth startled and turned, only to see Mr. Darcy in front of her. She felt her cheeks burning and clutched her hands nervously, struggling to keep her thoughts and words under control. When she answered, her voice sounded harsher than she intended.

  “I am perfectly well, sir. I am waiting for my sister, and we shall leave soon.”

  Mr. Darcy was not intimidated by her coldness and drew near her, studying her closely.

  “You do not seem fine,” he replied. “May I bring you something?”

  Elizabeth looked at him with wonder; it was the first time she had heard the gentleman speak with any warmth in his voice.

  “Allow me.” Before she had time to protest, Mr. Darcy helped Elizabeth to the sofa then sat himself next to her.

  “Perhaps you would like some refreshment. I can call someone to help you. Or I can have your sister sent for.”

  Elizabeth gently shook her head. “There is no need. The maid has just been here. Jane will finish her walk soon. She will return shortly.”

  Mr. Darcy looked nervous, as if trying to find a subject and continue talking. At last, he said, “Are Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst with her?”

  “No, they seemed not to enjoy our company.” Elizabeth stopped, realizing she might reveal something of importance to a man who looked for weakness in them. She simply said, “I think we ought to be heading home. I fear we have over-stayed our welcome.”

  “Not at all, I assure you. We…Bingley was quite excited about your visit—as was I. I hope you have no reason to presume otherwise.”

  Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy, puzzled and attempting to understand what lay behind his words. Still, she could not read him; Mr. Darcy was a difficult man to grasp. No, I cannot tell him of my distress, nor trust him with my belief that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst spoke without Mr. Darcy’s approval, she thought.

  Mr. Darcy sat in silence, and Elizabeth allowed herself to look at him once more. He was tense, and his eyes were now almost dark blue. Elizabeth recalled an earlier time when she had seen him like that—the evening at Rosings while he was reading the letter. Mr. Darcy suddenly turned to face her, and Elizabeth was startled by his move. Even more surprising was the shadow of remorse on his face and his apparent uneasiness.

  “Miss Bennet, I…it is not…as I said, I hope you have to reason to believe that your visit is anything other than pleasant to us.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she replied and waited for him to continue.

  It was obvious that he had more to say, and he seemed to struggle with the words. At last, he simply declared, “My friend seems to enjoy walking.”

  She gazed at him and met his changed countenance. A little smile narrowed his lips, bringing dimples to his cheeks and a light to his eyes. Elizabeth felt suddenly flustered.

  “So does my sister,” she admitted tentatively.

  “May I bring you some tea?” He repeated his earlier offer clumsily, and Elizabeth’s face coloured with amusement.

  “Yes, thank you,” she replied. She followed him with her eyes as he poured some tea then brought the cup to her. She took it from him, and their fingers touched briefly. His skin burned her more than the hot cup.

  “Are you feeling better? You look a little flushed,” he said with genuine concern. She averted her eyes and tried to speak lightly.

  “Yes, I am, sir; thank you.” She eventually lifted her eyes and met his. It was a while before he began to speak again, but when he did, Elizabeth’s surprise and distress increased.

  “Miss Bennet,” he finally spoke again, “I would like to apologize for the last time we saw each other. I believe you were right to address me the way you did that night. I was rude, and my manners were inappropriate. I realize that now, but there were circumstances, which I am not at liberty to reveal, that forced me to act as I did. Please accept my regrets, for they are offered in earnest.”

  Elizabeth nodded gently and locked eyes with him again, unable to utter a response. Her own feelings were so confused—a proud man admitting to her that he was wrong! Even if she wished to reply, she could not have done so. She was determined to say something, however, to clarify the subject that had caused so much torment, but she could not gather herself to do it—not at that moment, at least. She remained silent, lost in his blue eyes until she noticed Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst’s arrival. Mr. Darcy stood and walked away from Elizabeth as the ladies frowned at her.

  “Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley said. “What a surprise to find you here—and with Miss Elizabeth no less. I expected her to be with her sister and my brother, not entertaining conversation alone with you. That could hardly be considered a proper situation.”

  Her reproach was harsh, and Darcy’s face became severe and his voice sharp.

  “I trust I have no need to be reminded what is proper, but I thank you for your interest nevertheless, Miss Bingley. Miss Elizabeth was not feeling well, and she returned by herself, waiting for Miss Bennet. It was by chance that I found her here and offered her a cup of tea. Of course, if either you or Mrs. Hurst had been in Miss Elizabeth’s close proximity, you could have taken care of this task without any need for my involvement.”

  His cold words fell heavily upon the ladies, who turned pale, looked at each other, and gulped a few times before Miss Bingley answered.

  “I see…we were…I am glad she is feeling better now. Are you feeling better, I hope, Miss Elizabeth?”

  “If only we had returned sooner to spare you the trouble, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Hurst replied slyly.

  Elizabeth did not miss the hidden meaning; neither did Darcy, who said, “Well it is never too late for a lady to learn the proper way to attend to guests. I am sure Miss Elizabeth is kind enough to overlook your mistake. Now please excuse me; I have some letters to finish.”

  He bowed and left with only a brief glance towards Elizabeth, and she could barely conceal her amusement. It was a palliation for Elizabeth’s earlier distress to hear Mr. Darcy openly scold the ladies who had just declared they would have his help in their mischievous plans.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alone in the drawing room with the Bingley sisters, Elizabeth felt obliged to contribute to the conversation. Sensing that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were still rather suspicious about her private encounter with Mr. Darcy, she changed the subject, expressing her approval of the part of garden she had managed to see. Mrs. Hurst declared that Netherfield’s garden was nothing compared to other gardens she had seen, especially those at Pemberley.

  “It is rather a hot day, is it not? A burdening hotness that does not allow you to breathe,” Mrs. Hurst concluded.

  “And yet, the sky seems dark; just look at the clouds. Walking in the garden at noon on such a day is surely a bad idea. Only Charles could have thought of it,” added Miss Bingley.

  “Charles is rarely wise,” Mrs. Hurst admitted.

  Before Elizabeth could reply, the powerful noise of a heavy, quick summer rain startled them.

  “Oh dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Hurst. “What is this—rain out of the blue? What bizarre weather you have in this part of the country!”

  “Horrible! How fortunate we returned in time,” Caroline exclaimed. “Just imagine being caught in the rain and seen by Mr. Darcy in such a state! You cannot trust the weather in the country.”

  Elizabeth was tempted to laugh at such an unreasonable reproach, clearly meant to offend her as a resident of the “country”; but worry for Jane made her rush to the window, her gaze searching for her sister through the torrent of rain. She breathed with relief a few minutes later when she saw her sister and Mr. Bingley dashing towards the house, holding hands as he gave her help and support as they ran.

  However pleasant this feeling was for Elizabeth, it was not the same for the gentleman’s sisters, who threw reproachful glances at their brother and his companion. They entered still close to each other, Mr. Bingley laughing and Jane wearing a charming smile, although their attire was ruined. Mr. Bingley cried for towels and his request was immediately ob
eyed. Elizabeth hurried to help Jane wipe her hair and face and put another towel around her shoulders while she helped her to sit, relieved.

  “Charles,” Mrs. Hurst exclaimed, “water is everywhere!”

  “Of course it is, Louisa! Did you expect brandy or wine to drip from our clothes?”

  “Charles, I find your amusement very peculiar,” Caroline intervened severely.

  “You two can be such a bore. It is a beautiful day, rain or sun! I might even say it is the best day of my life,” he said, looking joyfully at Jane who was clearly blushing.

  Drawn by the loud voices, Mr. Darcy returned to the room. He looked at the scene for a moment, and Elizabeth could not help wondering what he thought.

  “I cannot believe it has begun to pour so suddenly,” Miss Bingley addressed him immediately. “Is it not terrible, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Not really; surprising but not terrible. I know my tenants are always happy when it rains. Many people might consider this a good day.”

  “It has been a most perfect day indeed,” Mr. Bingley added, looking adoringly at Jane.

  “I imagine it has,” Darcy replied. “It is fortunate that you were close to the house when the rain started.”

  “Yes, but a summer rain has never killed anyone.” Bingley laughed.

  “Indeed, but it makes some people fall ill occasionally,” Darcy added.

  “It was truly a wonderful day,” the eldest Miss Bennet responded shyly from beneath the towels and as she enjoyed a cup of tea. “But I hope my father sends the carriage for us soon.”

  “Surely, you cannot think of returning home now,” Mr. Bingley cried. “At least, you will have to wait for the rain to stop. Would you not agree, Caroline?”

  “Yes, of course. You cannot leave in such weather.” Miss Bingley supported her brother, although with less determination.

  “If our carriage arrives, we shall leave of course. But we are most grateful for your concern,” Elizabeth responded.

  “Perhaps, Miss Bennet should be offered dry clothes,” Darcy said. “I apologize for interfering, but she looks rather cold.”

  Elizabeth looked at Jane’s blue lips and shivering hands as she sipped tea from the warm cup.

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Bingley approved immediately. “So fortunate that Darcy is always attentive to such details. I apologize for not thinking of it before. Caroline, send a maid with Miss Bennet. She needs dry clothing. And they can wait for the carriage in the comfort of an apartment. Of course, if you wish, my carriage is available…but we would be happy for you to stay until the weather improves. Surely, your parents know you are safe here. Am I not right, Caroline?”

  “Yes, of course,” Miss Bingley answered sternly.

  Jane suddenly sneezed violently, and Miss Bingley took a step back. Mr. Bingley rang, and a maid appeared, taking Jane and Elizabeth to one of the guest rooms.

  A dry gown was borrowed from Miss Bingley’s closet—against Jane and Elizabeth’s protest—and the eldest Miss Bennet was soon warming herself under blankets in the large bed of an elegant chamber. Elizabeth watched her sister, slightly worried. Despite her obvious enjoyment of the time spent with Mr. Bingley, it was not surprising that Jane caught a cold. It seemed Mr. Darcy was correct once again.

  ***

  “Lizzy, I feel we should not have accepted Mr. Bingley’s invitation to remain here. It does not feel right; I know Caroline and Louisa are not happy about it.”

  “I feel the same, but I am afraid there is little we can do now; we cannot change our minds. Let us wait and see how the weather progresses. I am sure Papa will send the carriage for us as soon as possible.” Elizabeth looked outside—where the rain continued unabated—then turned again to her sister who was sitting with her chin on her knees and a pensive expression.

  “I hope all is well at home. It is dreadful outside!” Jane said when lightning struck nearby, followed immediately by thunder that shook the house.

  “Let us not worry in vain but hope for the best,” Elizabeth encouraged her. “Now, let me arrange your hair, and you will do the same for mine.”

  A few minutes later, as both sisters gazed at themselves in the mirror, Elizabeth started to laugh. “Mama is surely happy about this—as is Mr. Bingley!”

  Jane’s cheeks coloured, and she smiled charmingly. “Mr. Bingley was kind to offer us this large, handsome room.”

  “Indeed he was, Jane. Kind and considerate. If this room speaks of his admiration for you, you have every reason to be pleased.”

  “Oh hush, Lizzy, do not tease me so,” Jane protested unconvincingly. “Caroline and Louisa are also trying to be gracious.”

  Elizabeth breathed deeply, wondering whether she should tell Jane what she had heard. “I am glad you had a lovely time today, Jane. As for Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, let us not hurry to form an opinion. The only one whose character is obvious to me is Mr. Bingley.”

  “Oh, Lizzy, Mr. Bingley is the most amiable gentleman I have ever met.”

  “Not to mention handsome.” Elizabeth laughed again.

  Jane did not argue. “I had a truly lovely day,” she whispered.

  “Because you were in the right company. And though the weather changed remarkably, the pleasure remained,” Elizabeth concluded in jest.

  “Mr. Darcy seemed kind too, Lizzy. Did you see how attentive he was to my well-being? I think this is highly in his favour. Not even you can deny that.”

  “Indeed, I cannot,” Elizabeth admitted, placing another pin in her sister’s hair.

  A few minutes later, Jane lay against the pillow and declared she would like to rest a while. Elizabeth encouraged her and took a seat by the window, watching her. She knew that Jane was not that tired or cold but only desired the privacy of her thoughts. She was aware that Jane’s feelings towards Mr. Bingley were already strong, and Mr. Bingley’s even more so. She could see it in their small gestures, in Jane’s blushes, and in the stolen glances of the couple. Despite the disturbing conversation between Mr. Bingley’s sisters, Elizabeth felt she could trust the newly born bond between her dear Jane and the gentleman who had captured her heart.

  Although she had promised to rest only a little while, Jane fell asleep right away, and an hour later, she was still in deep sleep as the storm continued.

  A soft knock on the door startled Elizabeth and, to her surprise, a maid invited her downstairs at Mr. Bingley’s request.

  Elizabeth was puzzled and hesitated briefly. She did not want to leave her sister alone, and she was not eager to meet the others again. But she was certain Mr. Bingley had something important to discuss—so she followed the maid to the library.

  With no little surprise, she saw not only Mr. Bingley but also Mr. Darcy. The host invited her in and offered her a seat and a cup of tea. She refused politely, curious and slightly concerned.

  “Miss Bennet, is your sister well, I hope?” Mr. Bingley asked.

  “Yes, Mr. Bingley. She is reasonably well; she is resting.”

  “Excellent. Forgive me for bothering you but I just received a note from Mrs. Bennet—your mother.”

  Elizabeth was stunned. “From my mother?”

  “Yes. Please do not worry; everything is fine. Mrs. Bennet told me that your father might not send the carriage for you today due to the weather, and she asked whether I could offer you shelter at Netherfield until tomorrow. She says it would not be safe for you to travel in such weather. A rider can reach Longbourn, but it would be rather dangerous for a carriage. I wish to answer her that it will be our pleasure to have you as our guests until tomorrow, and I desire to have your approval for this.”

  Elizabeth felt her cheeks burning. She knew it was only one of her mother’s schemes, and she felt deeply ashamed, wondering whether Mr. Bingley—or Mr. Darcy—understood it. She glanced at them both: the former was all smiles, clearly pleased with the turn of events, while the latter only enjoyed his drink and watched the rain. She was torn. Accepting an overnight stay would expose her to furth
er distress, but it would delight her sister and her sister’s admirer. Refusing the offer would contradict her mother and question her motives.

  She looked at her host and reluctantly asked, “Sir, are you certain out presence will not disturb you or your family? We truly do not wish to intrude.”

  “Not at all, Miss Elizabeth—quite the contrary,” Mr. Bingley said cheerfully. “There is nothing I would like more. And I was talking to Darcy a little earlier; he also admitted that it is the best solution for your present situation.”

  Elizabeth was lost for words; she looked at Mr. Darcy, and this time she met his eyes. He nodded to approve his friend’s statement, and the smile was present again. Elizabeth bit her lips.

  “Very well, Mr. Bingley. We are truly grateful for your generous invitation.”

  “Excellent! Wonderful! Shall we meet you for dinner in about an hour?”

  “That would be lovely, sir.”

  “May I offer you anything else until then? Is there anything you need?”

  ”No, sir; everything is as comfortable as it can be. Thank you.”

  She dared another glance towards Darcy then left the room, stepping hesitantly up the stairs. She was stuck for an entire evening and night in the same house with Mr. Darcy—and she could not decide whether she enjoyed or dreaded that turn of events.

  Chapter Twelve

  The gentle knock of the housemaid made Elizabeth return to her senses, not remembering when she had fallen asleep. She hurried to the door, wondering whether there was more news from Longbourn, but there was only a maid handing her Jane’s dry gown and informing her that the party was gathering downstairs for dinner. Elizabeth returned to the room, where she found Jane awake.

  “Lizzy, I heard someone knock. Has Papa arrived to take us home?”

  “No, Jane; I did not want to disturb your rest, but I have news. Mama sent Mr. Bingley a note, suggesting we should remain here for the night. He was, of course, very kind and immediately insisted upon it. I found no reason to refuse, but I am quite angry with Mama. That was a scheme—as obvious as it was improper.”