Compromising Mr. Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  Dear Reader,

  I’m so happy you’re taking this opportunity to read this bundle of Pride and Prejudice variations. If you’re not familiar with my writing, please note that I use British spellings and word uses from the Regency era.

  In each of these stories, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet are found in compromising situations which drastically alter the course of the story. I hope you’ll enjoy my re-imaginings on Jane Austen’s classic tale.

  ~Rose Fairbanks

  No Cause to Repine

  A Pride and Prejudice Variation

  Rose Fairbanks

  “But the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such exatraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her sitaution, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine.”

  —Elizabeth Bennet, Pride and Prejudice

  Dedication

  To my wonderful husband who is truly my Mr. Darcy and to my darling children, I love you more than words can say.

  To my mother who wrote poetry while raising four children alone.

  To Lauren, my Big Sister, who always encouraged me to read and introduced me to 19th century authors.

  To M.E., an English professor who encouraged my Jane Austen addiction and even fan fiction reading.

  To K.B., an English professor who taught me peer reviewing was a good thing.

  To M.S., M.M.S., and D.W., my history professors who taught me research skills and to think critically.

  Chapter One

  Monday, March 30, 1812

  Hunsford Parsonage, Kent

  “I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. Where there is enough fortune, distance becomes no evil. Such is not the case with my friend. I am certain she would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance,” Elizabeth Bennet said in her usual pert way in response to Fitzwilliam Darcy’s claim that Mrs. Collins lived near her family.

  Darcy drew his chair a little towards her. Since leaving Hertfordshire in late November, he had missed Elizabeth’s manner of conversation immensely. He had missed her immensely. Now he believed she just settled his final concern on their alliance.

  “You cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You cannot have been always at Longbourn.” He often wondered how she was more refined than her family. His fortune would allow her to visit her family, and yet the distance would be enough to discourage frequent trips.

  Elizabeth looked surprised. He had not meant to show so much emotion before declaring himself, but it was too hard to resist. Leaving Hertfordshire had resulted in torture of the acutest kind for him, for he could not rid his mind or heart of the lovely and witty Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Meeting her again at his aunt’s estate must be a matter of fate.

  Darcy drew back his chair and took a newspaper from the table. He did not consider if it appeared uncivil; he only desired to hide his expression.

  In a colder voice than he used only a moment ago, he asked, “Are you pleased with Kent?”

  The two had been speaking of the differences between Hertfordshire and Kent as Darcy considered this fortuitous and solitary call on the parsonage. He had needed time, since his arrival in the country, to reconsider his long-held arguments against the union. A deliberate and thorough man, taking the time to review all the facts and weighing the concerns and outcomes of every decision, he did not act impulsively. Once decided upon his course, however, he was obstinate about making his will come to pass. Knowing no woman could refuse him, and believing Elizabeth partial to him, he was tempted to present his suit immediately. Still, he desired to show his enduring admiration and court Elizabeth for the remaining week.

  Belatedly, Darcy realised the impropriety of extending the visit. Rising to take his leave, he tripped over a lump in the rug caused by the previous movements of his chair. He fell directly into Elizabeth’s lap.

  Before either of them could even cry out in astonishment, the door flew open, admitting not only Mrs. Collins and Miss Lucas but Mr. Collins and a maid as well. Immediately, Elizabeth jumped up, ignoring Darcy entirely, and he landed on the floor with a grunt. His heart raced and not merely from being caught in such a position.

  “Eliza!”

  “Cousin Elizabeth!”

  “Charlotte, I...”

  Utter pandemonium ensued. While Darcy rose from the floor, Mrs. Collins shooed Miss Lucas upstairs. The maid immediately fled, but Mr. Collins remained. He stammered something about being saved from a disastrous fate before walking briskly across the room to throw open the door.

  “Elizabeth Bennet, how dare you impose yourself on Mr. Darcy, a nephew of Lady Catherine! You shall leave my home immediately on the next post carriage. I care not where you go; your death would be a blessing compared to the way you have shamed your family by prostituting yourself. Mr. Darcy, let us leave directly for Rosings.”

  Elizabeth turned red, and before Darcy could say a thing, she spoke with vehemence, “Mr. Darcy only tripped over the rug! You cannot possibly believe I would ever...”

  She was cut off by Mr. Collins again, this time looking at Darcy. “I can see that you have surrendered to the allurements of my cousin and designed to meet her privately while we were without. Rest assured, I shall tell your esteemed aunt everything, and I am most certain that she will forgive you for your weakness. Men often do fall prey to such cheap arts,” he said, giving Elizabeth a disdainful look.

  Darcy attempted to pay no mind to Mr. Collins; he was too worried about Elizabeth. She took a step forward, and he nearly believed she would strike her cousin. Then she turned and looked at Darcy in anger before storming out of the room.

  Darcy watched her leave and then came in close to Mr. Collins. Not caring to dignify the toady man’s accusations, he only said, “I am not leaving, and you can have no reason to inform Lady Catherine of my affairs.”

  Undeterred, Mr. Collins declared again his intent to speak with Lady Catherine and left in a great hurry for his patroness’ abode. Darcy stood in stunned silence for a moment.

  He could hope that his aunt would not believe her parson. Darcy had an honourable reputation. Then he considered her likely low opinion of the male sex in general. While her husband lived, rumours abounded of mistresses and visits to brothels. Even if she believed in Darcy’s honour, she would have no difficulty believing Elizabeth as mercenary and scheming. He always knew his aunt would be angry over his choosing any bride but her daughter, and she would certainly be outraged by one from a lower circle, but she had no tolerance for improprieties. Darcy had no doubt his aunt would terribly abuse Elizabeth. Advancing his plans by a week, he strode confidently to the garden.

  He saw Elizabeth standing still with her back to the house, her shoulders slumped, and her arms wrapped around herself. He walked closer to her, but she seemed not to notice his presence.

  “I will not allow her to harm you in any way.”

  “Sir?” She dropped her arms to her side as she whirled to face him.

  Darcy saw she did not understand him. “I do not know your cousin well, but I know my aunt will likely believe his report. Between the two, I do think they would expel you and smear your name.”

  Elizabeth slowly nodded. “Yes, Mr. Collins would tell the tale far and wide to congratulate himself on not marrying me or into such a family.”

  He started at the suggestion that Mr. Collins had actually proposed to his Elizabeth. He could hear the anxiety in her voice as she continued.

  “Charlotte could do nothing to stop him, nor would she want to displease Lady Catherine. Maria loves to gossip, and so does her mother. Who knows what the maid would say? My family...”

  He quickly interrupted and took one of her ha
nds. “I had wanted to take the time to display my regard more deliberately and assure you of my constancy. This is not at all the way I imagined this moment for these last several months, but I am happy for the opportunity.”

  He paused a moment and looked to the side, struggling to find the words he wished to say but thankful he had given it some thought already. He missed the look of incredulity on Elizabeth's face.

  He then looked her directly in the eye. He stood a bit straighter and proclaimed with confidence, “In vain have I struggled; it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

  He exhaled then and was proud that he was able to perform the premeditated words to his fastidious standards. With less vigour and a hint of uncertainty as he attempted to conceal his original reservations, he renewed his sentiments. “This is not the match expected of me. However, I believe that we will find such extraordinary causes for happiness that we will not repine our union, even if Society should act its worst—which I do not truly expect.”

  Taking a long breath, he paused over the most important words he had uttered in his life. “Please, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?” He spoke with tenderness and believed his expression displayed all the longings of his heart.

  Elizabeth was silent for some time before stammering, “You are offering marriage?”

  Darcy paused for a moment until he believed he understood the source of her confusion. “Elizabeth,” he presumed to call her and triumphed when he was not corrected, “I can see that my regard has surprised you. We can certainly speak on that later, but we are running out of time to make arrangements before my aunt arrives at the parsonage with all the fury a scorned and delusional woman can exhibit. Nevertheless, I would like to hear the words.”

  She paused and took a deep breath before speaking softly, “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I accept your request. I am honoured.”

  “My love, you have made me so very happy.” He smiled and squeezed Elizabeth’s still captive hand. He did not observe her look of unease. “Now, I wish we could enjoy this moment, but I think it best if we leave immediately. I shall send an express ahead to your relations in London, and we shall arrive before nightfall. I will continue to Hertfordshire tomorrow to speak with your father.”

  Elizabeth quickly cut in, “I wish to go with you.”

  He smiled at her eagerness. No, he had no desire to separate from her either. “I had planned to return right away to begin arrangements. I had hoped you would stay with your relatives in London.” He squeezed her hand. “I do not wish to part from you, and you would be able to meet my sister.”

  “Perhaps...perhaps I could return to London, but I must insist on going to Longbourn with you.”

  Darcy smiled again. Of course, she should be present to share her family’s joy. Thinking of how they would express said joy made him readily agree she should be present. Elizabeth had a way of silencing her mother.

  “My aunt will likely demand you leave, but I will not allow you to be cast off and sent by post. I will send a footman to Rosings to direct my valet to pack my things and have my coach ready. I dare not leave you, even for a moment, for fear of my aunt somehow spiriting you away.” Darcy realised he sounded overly authoritative. He quickly added, “Did you have any suggestions?”

  “I shall ask Mrs. Collins to arrange for a maid to travel with us as a chaperone,” she snapped.

  Although disappointed, Darcy agreed. He had not thought it would be too large a breach in propriety to be alone with her, but given the accusations already thrown at her, he could understand her concerns.

  “An excellent suggestion. Should we not return to the house?” He was growing anxious. His aunt would likely arrive soon.

  Elizabeth mumbled, “Very well, sir.”

  “William, please, dearest.”

  “William,” Elizabeth conceded, blushing profusely, while Darcy lightly chuckled.

  In the hallway, he saw a maid and asked that Mrs. Collins be brought down.

  When Mrs. Collins entered, she immediately went to her friend. “Eliza, are you well?”

  “Oh. Yes, Charlotte. Merely preoccupied.” She glanced at Darcy, and he was pleased to continue with the announcement.

  “I am happy to announce that Miss Elizabeth and I are betrothed. Regrettably, we see the need to depart, allowing for my aunt's expected displeasure. I wonder if you might have a suggestion for a chaperone, as we plan to leave within the hour.”

  Mrs. Collins smiled and replied, “I am confident that my maid, Molly, may serve suitably. I shall go tell her at once and have her help Eliza pack her trunks.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Collins. Please allow me to apologise for any strain in the relationship you may experience between my aunt and yourselves. If you have difficulties,” here they shared a knowing look, “please do not hesitate to contact my housekeeper in London, Mrs. Campbell. She shall alert me directly should you require my assistance.”

  “I thank you, sir. And please allow me to congratulate you. Elizabeth is a gem and a very fortunate woman.”

  “It is I who am fortunate. I feel as though I can breathe again.” He glanced to Elizabeth, who had an unreadable expression on her face.

  “Eliza, come. We must get you packed,” Mrs. Collins broke Elizabeth's reverie.

  “Oh, yes, Charlotte, of course,” she said, and with a nod, added, “Mr. Darcy.”

  She tried to exit the sitting room quickly, but he strode to her and kissed her hands. “I shall anxiously await you, my future Mrs. Darcy,” he said, causing another round of profuse blushing for Elizabeth.

  *****

  Elizabeth followed Charlotte up the stairs to her room, insensible to anything but her rapidly progressing thoughts. Future Mrs. Darcy! Mrs. Darcy! Wife to Mr. Darcy! Wife to arrogant, hateful Mr. Darcy!

  Upon reaching Elizabeth’s room, Mrs. Collins shut the door and stated, “I see you are puzzling this out, Eliza. Let me caution you to wait until at least the carriage ride. Heaven only knows how long we have before Lady Catherine descends upon us.”

  Elizabeth finished packing the last of her items in her trunk and closed the lid with dread, acknowledging that with the action, all her hopes for happiness disappeared from her life. Then she watched with resignation as a footman carried it out of her room, and she collapsed on the little chair next to her bed. Mr. Darcy’s carriage had arrived, and Mrs. Collins and the maid had left to make the final arrangements for Elizabeth and Darcy’s departure. Mrs. Collins had warned Elizabeth not to take time to reflect on the recent occurrences, but Elizabeth had never been as practical as Charlotte. I suppose if I were, I would have married Mr. Collins!

  Charlotte believed happiness in marriage was a mere matter of chance, no matter how attached the couple might be at the beginning. Elizabeth vehemently disagreed. If a couple nurtured their affection and sustained their friendship, then no matter the fickleness of life, their happiness should be assured. No, happiness in marriage was not a matter of chance; it was a product of work and attention. How is happiness achieved with mutual dislike?

  Although Mr. Darcy had uttered a scant few words of professed love, Elizabeth perceived no sentiment behind it. He barely knew her; his attachment would be as imaginary as Mr. Collins’ had been. She still could not understand his allusion to a previous desire to propose when she had always been certain he disliked her. Perhaps he felt it would alleviate some of her duress if he feigned admiration for her? Elizabeth snorted at such a thought. Mr. Darcy could barely be civil most of the time, let alone be sensitive to another’s feelings, nor could she suppose him able to affect such a romantic notion as love. At any rate, he is clearly willing to put his dislike for me aside, and I should probably do the same.

  If only I were Jane. Jane would find a way to be content, perhaps even happy. Jane could forget that the hateful man she was to marry was so dishonourable that he cheated his father’s favourite, the c
ompanion of his youth, out of a valuable living and left him in poverty. Elizabeth knew her lively talents put her in grave danger in an unequal marriage. How can I esteem and respect him? How can I live but in misery with such a man? She willed herself not to resort to tears of frustration, anger, and self-pity.

  Annoyingly, Mr. Darcy’s smiling face rose to her mind then and reminded her that he did not have to offer her marriage, as his reputation was not of concern. He was doing the honourable thing. He even seemed happy about it. What a bundle of contradictions Mr. Darcy was! She wondered if she were mistaken in her impression of his character or if this afternoon was an anomaly.

  Before she could contemplate further, a great ruckus was heard at the main door. Lady Catherine had entered the parsonage. Elizabeth swiftly descended the stairs, propelled by intrepid curiosity. She expected to be abused by Lady Catherine and paused in astonishment as she heard Darcy’s vehement defence. She could do naught but stand stock still and listen in wonderment.

  *****

  Lady Catherine sat in the expansive blue drawing room in Rosings Park. She expected her daughter and nephews to enter momentarily, as they always gathered before dining. Instead, her butler entered.

  “Lady Catherine, Mr. Collins here to see you on urgent business,” the aged servant informed her.

  Lady Catherine sucked in a steadying breath, preparing to handle whatever imaginary crisis her clergyman would present.

  Bowing deeply, Mr. Collins breathlessly began, “My dear patroness, I fear I bear bad tidings and assure you that I will condole with you most readily.”

  “Mr. Collins, might you tell me the bad tidings before you offer condolences?” Lady Catherine picked at invisible lint on her silk gown. She did not take his concerns too seriously; she had wanted a sycophant, but there were times when the price was great.

  Part of his hair came loose and bobbed with his head in agitation. “I wish to apologise for ever bringing her here. You may be certain that I have already made orders for her to be sent away immediately.”