Folly and Forgiveness: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Lizzy Brandon

  “Do you take responsibility for seeing to everyone’s well-being?” she teased, then again blushed and looked away as she remembered their last conversation on responsibility for others. She had been most curious about his response to her assertion that he was not responsible for her. He had seemed almost angry with her for implying he took too much upon himself. What must he think of her? She now wished she had risked giving offence through silence rather than by conversing so ineptly.

  “Not everyone,” he replied at length. “I do see a responsibility here, given that Lady Catherine is my relation and without a steward I would consider completely reliable. I would not see her tenants suffer needlessly. Family has a duty to support where needed.”

  “Of course, I meant no criticism,” Elizabeth responded, wringing her hands and hoping that they could soon part company.

  “Of course you did not. Please, do not be uneasy.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

  He was frustrated with her, so much so that he was losing his normally implacable composure. He had offered to join her when they met, though he did not care for company, and all she had done was offer unintended insults. Elizabeth was frustrated with herself and could not blame him for his feelings.

  She was about to apologize again when she had the horrific realization that she was turning into Mr. Collins. She was not completely successful in hiding the laugh that came upon her and Mr. Darcy looked at her queerly.

  He must think me a complete loon.

  “Forgive me,” she paused, and again started to laugh. She was doing it again. She really was turning into Mr. Collins. “I am not in the habit of needing to offer so many apologies and I began to fear I have been around Mr. Collins’ influence too long.” She looked up to Mr. Darcy as they continued walking, hoping he could see the humor in their situation as well. Elizabeth was greatly relieved when he visibly relaxed and smiled back at her.

  “Have no fear, Miss Elizabeth. You have a long road to travel before your discourse would be confused with that man’s. Your apologies, while equally unnecessary, are at least sincerely meant and not empty words intended to elevate the feelings of another.”

  Elizabeth smiled back and looked back to the path in front of them.

  “I am certain Mr. Collins is sincere in most of his apologies,” she replied, attempting to reconsider Mr. Collins’ prior conduct. “I also find I can sympathize with his plight, as I have come to understand the discomfort one can feel when one becomes cognizant of continually saying the wrong thing.”

  “Then it is I who must apologize,” he replied stiffly. “I would not have you uncomfortable in my presence.” Elizabeth groaned inwardly. She had done it yet again.

  “I fear you misinterpret, Sir. You have done nothing wrong.” He was a man who appreciated honesty, so she would give it to him, regardless of her own embarrassment. “I am only uncomfortable to be with one who knows so many of my failings.”

  Elizabeth kept her eyes on the path ahead. Hopefully she had put his mind at ease and recovered from her latest misstep. She would simply keep her mouth closed for the rest of their journey and save herself any additional humiliation. Awkward silence would be a relief at this point.

  Mr. Darcy stopped walking and Elizabeth closed her eyes tightly before stopping a few steps ahead of him. Apparently her dreams of awkward silence were not to be. With a deep breath, she prepared herself for a new round of embarrassment. Opening her eyes, she squared her shoulders and turned to face him, uncertain how the situation could get any worse.

  “Do you believe I think less of you for being aware you are not perfect? I assure you, I was well aware you had failings long before I knew their specifics. Perfection is a myth. I would only think less of you had you learned nothing and continued to repeat the same mistakes.”

  Elizabeth knew not how to respond, but she could not continue to hold the gaze of the intense man before her and looked away as he stepped closer.

  “Do you think less of me for learning of my failings as a brother?”

  Elizabeth quickly looked back and shook her head. “Of course not!”

  “Then why should you expect me to look down upon you?”

  He appeared genuinely confused, which only confused Elizabeth. Had he not always looked down upon her? Why should he think she would expect to be treated any differently now? She felt she had missed a bit of a conversation or a few pieces to a puzzle. His question made no sense to her.

  “Please answer me.”

  While their entire walk had been a disaster, Elizabeth began to truly feel uneasy now. Much as she wanted to avoid any further discussion, she did not see any way to escape.

  “What do you wish me to say?”

  “I wish an honest answer to my question,” he replied, jaw set.

  He was angry with her and her heart began to beat faster as she dried her palms on her dress.

  Why had she not chosen a different path this morning? Why had she not declined his offer to join her and claimed to be on her way back to the parsonage? Why had she come to Kent at all?

  She could tell him their situations were different because she had ignored his pointed advice to be wary of Mr. Wickham, while he had no such counsel regarding his sister. That would negate the parallel he was drawing, but would not be an answer.

  As awful as their encounter had been thus far, she could not deny she had expected him to look down upon her, that she had assumed he had always done so, nor could she answer his question in any way that could possibly improve the untenable situation in which she now found herself.

  “Miss Elizabeth, Darcy, what luck to run into you here.”

  Elizabeth could have collapsed in relief. Colonel Fitzwilliam would forever more be her favorite person. She may even name her firstborn son Fitzwilliam, so great was her gratitude at his interruption.

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam,” she replied in a voice falsely bright. “How good to see you.”

  Mr. Darcy said nothing, nor did he take his eyes off of her.

  “I fear I must return to the parsonage,” she announced as Colonel Fitzwilliam approached. “I had forgotten that I agreed to accompany my sister as she paid condolence calls this afternoon. Pray, forgive my abruptness. I wish you both a good day.” Elizabeth dipped a quick curtsey and nodded to each of the men before turning and walking as quickly as she could towards the parsonage.

  She had completely forgotten her promise to Mary until that moment, but was beyond grateful to have a legitimate reason to return to the house. Elizabeth had never thought she could look forward to conversing with Mr. Collins as a respite. He may speak long and without much sense, but he never asked difficult questions. Now that she faced no risk of another proposal from him, his conversation could in no way rival the awkward one she had just finished.

  She felt ill, so great was her discomfort, but continued her rapid pace. She needed to put as much distance between herself and Mr. Darcy as possible right now and was half afraid he may follow her to attempt to force an answer from her. The very thought brought on a fresh burst of speed.

  No, she need not worry. Colonel Fitzwilliam would hardly allow the man to chase after her. She needed to rest and calm herself. Ducking behind a large tree, she confirmed that no one followed her, and then allowed herself to sit on a nearby rock.

  Later, when she had some quiet and privacy and after she had calmed herself, she would attempt to decipher what had happened in their discussion and see if she could figure out what she was missing. Right now, her thoughts and emotions were so tangled she could not make them out. Later, she would untangle them. Right now, she had not the strength.

  CHAPTER 22

  “What in the blazes was going on?” Fitzwilliam demanded.

  Darcy had not moved since Elizabeth’s rapid exit.

  He knew that she disliked him, but he was shocked that Elizabeth truly believed he thought so little of her.

  Why would he have taken the effort to keep an eye on Wickham or
stayed in the area to see to her welfare if he thought her so beneath him? Why would he risk ruining Georgiana by sharing her misadventure? How could she not see that he loved her? As much as he tried to deny it or ignore it, he loved Elizabeth Bennet. He hoped to survive the loss of her, but he still loved her.

  “Darcy?”

  “A misunderstanding, nothing more Fitzwilliam.” Still he could not move.

  “Are you well? Darcy, you look ill.”

  “I am well. Leave me, please.”

  “I damned well will not until you tell me what is going on.”

  He could not explain to his cousin what he did not understand himself.

  “I said, leave me!” Perhaps a more forceful tone would carry his message.

  “I will not. Miss Elizabeth looked like a frightened rabbit who hopped away as quickly as she possibly could. You look like you have taken a punch to the gut or a knee to a different area. I demand to know, what happened here?”

  Darcy rubbed his hands over his face. Dear God, was he being accused of acting like Wickham? He had not even attempted to touch her, but he was angry. The last seriously angry man Elizabeth had dealt with had struck her. Had she feared as much from him?

  Good God, he could not have made more of a mess of the situation had he deliberately tried. He wanted to punch something, but as Wickham’s face was not nearby, he would have to settle for calming himself.

  “Do not worry, Fitz. I was not imposing upon her. We were simply talking.”

  “I did not come upon a simple conversation, Darcy. I came upon an impending battle.”

  “That you did.” Darcy gave up. He sat on the ground and rested his back against a tree, suddenly very tired.

  “Yet you say you were not the aggressor?”

  “I suppose I was the aggressor as I was the one demanding answers. I would claim to be the injured party as well, but as I fear I was overbearing with Miss Elizabeth, I must cede that status to her.”

  “What question could have caused such a scene?”

  Darcy refused to answer or even look in his cousin’s direction as the man paced in front of him. Suddenly he stopped and turned back to Darcy.

  “You love her.”

  “Do not sound so amused. It matters not.”

  “I disagree,” Fitzwilliam replied, his spirits much lighter now than they had been. “I have much cause to be amused as it appears the lady is not falling into line with your plans.”

  “I have no plans with which she must fall in line.” Darcy knew he sounded like a sullen child, but could not help himself.

  “Then you are a fool. I have never known you not to have a plan, so you must have deliberated and chosen not to have one.”

  Darcy said nothing.

  “You are a fool. I hear that love makes fools of us all, so do not be offended,” his cousin said with another laugh. “You have never been in love before.”

  “I am not in love with Elizabeth Bennet.”

  Fitzwilliam laughed louder and Darcy ground his teeth.

  “You are a poor liar, Darcy, so it is to your advantage that you are usually an honest man.” Fitzwilliam leaned back against another tree and examined the man before him. “You mean that you do not want to be in love with Elizabeth Bennet. Your behavior tells a different tale.”

  “If it did, Miss Elizabeth would not assume I despise her.”

  “Is that the problem, then? I would think that an easy enough issue to resolve.”

  “Perhaps so, were it not for her despising me as well.”

  Fitzwilliam laughed again and Darcy wished he had a rock nearby to throw at him.

  “You really have put your foot in it this time, have you not?”

  “I am pleased I can be such a source of diversion for you.”

  Fitzwilliam ignored the venom in Darcy’s voice.

  “Do you know why she despises you?”

  “She met Wickham and heard his version of our history, though she now knows him to be what he always has been. I managed to insult her in her hearing before we were even introduced. She also once accused me of thinking her marriage prospects improved by the death of her mother and the resulting end of that woman’s coarse behavior in public.”

  “Is that all?”

  A large rock. That was what Darcy wished for. He would aim directly between the eyes that now looked upon him with such mirth.

  “I would appreciate if you would stop laughing at my pain, Fitzwilliam. I assure you, I find no humor in the situation.”

  “Had she any reason to assume you would see benefit from her mother’s passing?”

  Despite his best efforts, Darcy squirmed. “I made no such statement.”

  “I see. And what were her mother’s faults?”

  “I will not speak ill of the dead.” Fitzwilliam snorted at this response.

  “I am not seeking gossip, Darcy. I am trying to help you, but I cannot do so without information.”

  Darcy sighed. His cousin likely was trying to help him, though he would not bother to stifle his humor while he did so.

  “Her mother was a vulgar woman of low manners. She was still handsome, so she was likely quite beautiful when she was younger. How else she would have caught a gentleman, I do not know.”

  “So she was not a gentlewoman herself?”

  “No, her father was an attorney. Her sister married an attorney and her brother is in trade.”

  “Low connections as well.” Fitzwilliam was serious now as he considered.

  “The low connections would not have been so terrible had they not been accompanied by a complete lack of propriety. Mrs. Bennet and her sister were both loud women of poor understanding. She was no worse than any other mother hunting husbands for her daughters, but she was most vocal and uncouth regarding her expectations.”

  “With the mother out of the way, the public embarrassment would disappear?”

  “Hardly. Her youngest sisters are positively wild as they chase after officers and their father does nothing to check their behavior, just as he did nothing to check his wife’s behavior. Miss Elizabeth and her sister Miss Bennet were the only members of the family with any understanding of appropriate behavior, though I must now include Mrs. Collins in their number as she appears much improved since her marriage.”

  “You look down upon her relations, but not upon her?”

  Darcy started to speak, but stopped himself. After a pause, he began again. “I respect those who are respectable.”

  “And that list would not include her parents, youngest sisters, aunts or uncles?”

  “It would not.”

  “Have you met all of her aunts and uncles?”

  “I observed the attorney and his wife who lived locally. I believe I saw the uncle in trade and his wife when they came for the funeral, but I did not observe them long.”

  “Yet you assume they are as crass as the others because they are in trade?”

  “Not because they are in trade, though that does not reflect well upon them. I expect them to be much the same based on their relations.”

  “A very fair assumption to be sure,” Fitzwilliam replied sardonically. “I see how you and Aunt Catherine are remarkably similar in your opinions and behaviors all the time.”

  “I was not raised by or near Lady Catherine, so your parallel is a faulty one.”

  “You were raised with Wickham. Should you be judged by his behavior?”

  “He is not a relation.”

  “Are not the high-born subject to the same whims of fate as the low born? You have always been a snob, Darcy, but you have never been forced to acknowledge it.”

  “I am not,” Darcy replied indignantly. “Bingley is one of my best friends and his family is in trade.”

  “They were, but he is not. You are more egalitarian than most, I will grant you that, and do not hold the sins of the father against the son. But that is neither here nor there as we are discussing Miss Elizabeth. Have you considered that she has a strong attachment to h
er family?”

  “I am certain she does. She is closest to her elder sister, but she has a large heart and I have no doubt she is attached to all of them.”

  “Have you bothered to hide your scorn for her family?”

  Darcy said nothing as realization began to dawn upon him.

  Fitzwilliam stepped away from his tree and began to walk. “I take it from your silence that you have not, so we must assume she knows you think little of her family. As she is a woman of intelligence, we must assume no matter how much she may care for them, she is not unaware of her family’s faults.” Fitzwilliam was now in military mode, laying out the details as meticulously as he would if planning for a battle.

  “Having met the lady and enjoyed her company,” he continued, “I can attest that she is not conventional. Her charm, in large part, comes from her liveliness and willingness to speak her mind, not from sticking to strictly proper behavior.”

  Darcy glared at his cousin, ready to stand in defense of Elizabeth, but the colonel held up a hand to stop him.

  “I am not saying she has ever behaved improperly, only that she does not adhere to the rigid rules of society that demand complaisance and a lack of independent thought from ladies.”

  Darcy calmed, able to accept the revised assessment.

  “As we have already decided she is a woman of intelligence, she must be aware, though she does not care, that her own behavior often strays beyond the boundaries of strict propriety, would you not agree?”

  “I would.”

  “Excellent,” the colonel responded with nod as he stopped in front of Darcy and clasped his hands behind his back. “If you accept my assessments as accurate, then let us take them to a logical conclusion. If you despise her family for their impropriety and acknowledge that Miss Elizabeth’s behavior can also be improper – though not nearly to the same extent as theirs – would it not be reasonable for her to assume that you view her behavior as reprehensible as well?”