Compromising Mr. Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  It was all so perfectly logical now; he could not even understand why he acted so disgracefully earlier. He questioned whether he put too much stock in Wickham’s words against his daughter’s suitor but quickly dismissed the concern. His own observance made him believe Darcy was arrogant and proud. And Wickham’s most recent visit had seemed innocuous at the time. He passed the time laughing at memories of Lady Catherine and Elizabeth’s impression of the lady. Wickham implied that Darcy’s annual visit was confirmation of the impending nuptials between Miss de Bourgh and Darcy.

  Darcy’s express arrived shortly after Wickham left, shocking Mr. Bennet greatly. Then Elizabeth and Darcy arrived, and it was too much to comprehend. Mr. Bennet was intelligent, clever, and in another life, would have made a fine scholar. As it happened, he was born a gentleman farmer and expected to be a man of leisure; he chose to rely on stewards and enjoyed the freedom his status offered. He was not accustomed to action and preferred to allow others to make decisions. The consequences were never dire; he saw no need to burden himself with caution and deliberation. Instead, he often sought the path of least resistance and nuisance to himself. He would rather laugh at the foibles and follies of his family than exert himself to influence them. Additionally, he endeavoured to overlook what he could not forget: he married a silly, vulgar woman who raised daughters in her image, and the estate’s entailment. Most men managed their estates to preserve the legacy they passed to their children. As Mr. Bennet could not pass his on and disliked the Collins branch of his family, he saw little need to take interest in the affairs of the estate. Unfortunately, such an attitude denied him any opportunity to make rapid and clear decisions or decipher fact from conflicting reports. Similarly, the events of the previous day did not allow him sufficient time to puzzle out the different accounts he had heard of Darcy.

  Elizabeth argued that Darcy was shy and disliked Society. Hmm, I can understand the sentiment. Mr. Bennet himself disliked Society and seldom was bothered to leave his library to attend the neighbourhood’s dances and soirées. Fortunately, he was sufficiently inconsequential enough to be allowed to spend his time in solitude. Society’s demands would naturally be far more intrusive for Darcy.

  Blame. He desired someone to blame for the events that transpired. Elizabeth claimed to esteem Darcy, but it did not truly matter. She did not love him and may never love him. He wondered at this newfound ability to esteem the man and doubted its ability to last; it seemed nothing but the work of a day. He knew Elizabeth had a quickness about her, but a handsome face and charming manners had swayed her understanding before. His fervent wish was for her, out of all of his daughters, to marry a man she truly loved and respected. He knew the cost of an unequal marriage and how impossible it was to be happy without an enduring respect for one’s partner in life. He was angry at the necessity to allow this marriage, nay, force this marriage on his daughter. He disliked skipping the courtship experience entirely. Elizabeth deserved to learn more about her suitor and be certain of her feelings for him before a betrothal. And he needed more time to let her go.

  The last thought made him sit up straight. Was he truly so prejudiced? Bennet wondered if he considered any man worthy of his little Lizzy. He would admit to only himself that it was not likely. He could not see what his daughter professed to see in Darcy, but he decided he would take the pain to try to become acquainted with the man. In reality, he could do nothing but accept the engagement, and refusing to like the man was doing nothing but grieving his daughter. No, he would not give her any additional cause to repine this marriage. He resolved when the young people returned to invite Darcy to his study and genuinely attempt to listen to the man.

  *****

  Outside, Elizabeth, Jane, Darcy, and Bingley walked towards the Longbourn garden in silence. After climbing a small hill to see Mrs. Bennet’s prised Dane’s Blood patch and briefly engaging in stilted conversation on said flowers, the small party progressed on the path leading to Meryton. Darcy exchanged a look with Bingley, and without either of the ladies much realizing it, the gentlemen exchanged walking companions. Elizabeth and Bingley managed easy conversation on the Hertfordshire weather, although both were more preoccupied with what might be passing between the other couple.

  “Miss Bennet?” Darcy hesitantly addressed his new companion.

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy?” Jane asked as demurely and sweetly as ever, but Darcy was now wise enough to believe she felt an inner turmoil at the proceedings of the day.

  Darcy cleared his throat while thinking this confession might be easier if she did not seem so much like his sister in looks and temperament. He castigated himself anew at the thought that he hurt this young lady the way another hurt his sister.

  “Miss Bennet, I must make a confession to you. Last autumn, while staying in Hertfordshire with my friend, I easily perceived his interest in you. I often saw him in love, however, and did not suspect a serious attachment on his part until the Netherfield Ball. I then watched you for the remainder of the evening and did not observe a return of his affections. At the suggestion of his sisters, I followed him to Town and argued my case sufficiently to persuade him to drop the acquaintance to avoid a loveless marriage.”

  He hazarded a look at her and saw her eyes widen, likely in disbelief that a person could be so officious. He winced but persevered. “Some weeks later, Miss Bingley informed me that you came to call on her in London, and I advised her to keep the visit from her brother. He never knew you were in Town.”

  Jane slowly nodded in understanding, and Darcy ceased his walk to earnestly look at her for the remainder of his apology. “I believe it was only my argument of your lack of regard that kept Bingley from you all these months. He was quite heartbroken and is undeserving of any anger you might feel. I believe now I was not an impartial judge, but rather I saw what I wished to see. In my arrogant stupidity, I desired to avoid your sister’s company and fight my growing attachment to her. At the time, however, I believed I was interested only in his welfare. If I caused you pain, and I suspect I did, it was most unconsciously done. I know I cannot beg your forgiveness, but I do most sincerely apologise for my interference.”

  Jane gazed at Darcy for what felt like eternity as though she were assessing his earnestness. Finally, she replied, “Though you did not ask for it, I freely forgive you, Mr. Darcy. Your actions were in the best interest of your friend.”

  She spoke softly and sadly, then continued forward on her own as Darcy allowed Bingley and Elizabeth to catch up with him. After another shared look between the gentlemen, Bingley continued onward to Jane. Darcy turned to face Elizabeth, who stared at him expectantly.

  Darcy understood her silent inquisition. “I was apologizing for my influence in Bingley’s affairs and for the pain I caused her.”

  Elizabeth only nodded and began to walk again as Darcy continued, “I spoke with Bingley last night, and he was quite justly angry with me for a time before mercifully forgiving me.” He glanced at Jane and Bingley. “They are well suited for each other. Both are quite generous, though I did nothing to deserve it.”

  Elizabeth remained mute, and Darcy was unsure of the cause of her apparent ill-humour. He decided to jest in hopes of coaxing her into liveliness. “Bingley said watching me attempt to court you amidst your angry father, your enthusiastic mother, and his jealous sister would be quite penance enough.”

  Too late did he realise his words might sound like criticism of Elizabeth’s family, and with a sinking feeling, he looked at her face. Her expression displayed her affront at his words, and he hastened to explain. “Bingley knows I have no talent as a suitor, and he shall undoubtedly find great amusement in my social blunders, of which you shall unfortunately be the victim. The impediments I mentioned are only likely to make me more inept.”

  Darcy watched in horror as Elizabeth’s countenance darkened further, and he realised his words only did more damage. She attempted to quicken her pace, but Darcy’s long legs outstripped her, and ducking
in front of her, he grabbed her shoulders to cease her flight. She raised her face, and her beautiful eyes sparked with ire.

  “Elizabeth, forgive me. What can I say? I am a fool when it comes to words, especially in your company. I truly did not mean to offend. I still believe your father shall come to our way of thinking after the shock wears off, and your mother’s high spirits do not alarm me.”

  He saw the expression of scepticism on Elizabeth’s face and knew he needed to address his faults. “You were too kind yesterday to absolve me of my pride and arrogance. I am uncomfortable in Society, but I can exert myself to be pleasant enough when I feel it worth my trouble, such as in business situations and when I was at school. I have been a selfish being all my life. I never stopped to consider how others feel when I avoid conversation. And I know I look unapproachable at times; I intentionally seek to discourage people.”

  She gasped at his last words and looked more indignant than ever. Desperately, he continued, “I am trying to consider others’ feelings, especially yours, and address my other failures. You must agree, it may take more than a day to overcome.” Darcy’s concern eased at last when it appeared she took his final words into consideration. “You must tell me, Elizabeth, what did I say or do to offend you? I thought speaking with your sister would please you!”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “It does, and I thank you. Earlier, in the parlour you were silent, and I feared you were disapproving of my family again. I cannot fault you; my father abused you abominably, and my mother can be very vulgar.”

  Elizabeth would not meet his eye and blushed. “And I feared you were regretting your choice. I am very aware I bring nothing to tempt you to the marriage. How can I expect you to take on my silly and ridiculous relations, connections in trade, and a father-in-law who has no scruples against abusing you to your face? He accused you of the most awful and ungentlemanlike things. You would do all this for a woman who made no secret of her dislike based on prejudices?”

  Darcy smiled a little and gently tilted her head up with his fingers. He longed to keep them there but remembered the liberties he took the day before and forced himself to remove his hand from her soft skin, though he ached to stroke her face once more. “Elizabeth, you are all I could ever desire in a marriage partner. I can love no one but you; I admire your beauty and wit and respect your intelligence.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “And you tempt me beyond all reason.”

  She shivered, and he unknowingly took a step forward, then came to his senses and stepped backwards again. He apologised for the liberties he took the day before, vowed it would not occur again until she welcomed it, and pleaded for her forgiveness. He watched in confusion, as Elizabeth wore an unreadable expression on her face during his confession and remained silent after he was done.

  He began to turn away dejectedly when she finally blinked at him and said, “I do apologise. I was not attending.”

  *****

  Darcy’s touch entranced Elizabeth. How can his touch do this to me? Her heart rate accelerated when he declared she was all he could ever want, and her breath quickened when he whispered his desire for her. She felt alive with anticipation and believed she would truly welcome his advances, but he stepped backwards. He spoke again, but Elizabeth felt entranced by his lips. Curses upon Aunt Gardiner for mentioning how pleasant his mouth is when he speaks!

  What would they feel like on mine? Elizabeth almost giggled as she thought it. What a silly question. Would not all lips feel the same? What can be so special about his? Suddenly, she noticed he had ceased speaking, and a hurt expression was upon his face. She blinked and at last felt that the spell he cast upon her was over.

  Apologizing for her lack of attention seemed to bring a mixture of relief and embarrassment to him. “I begged pardon for taking liberties with you yesterday. It shall not happen again.” Elizabeth’s eyes darted to his lips again, and she cursed her lack of control.

  He cleared his throat, tugged on his waistcoat, and inquired, “What distracted you?”

  “Hmm?” she answered absentmindedly, then glanced towards Jane and Bingley just as they turned back towards them. Although they both wore happy expressions, they were not quite as joyful as she expected. She immediately detached herself from Darcy’s side and went to her sister, as Bingley continued to Darcy.

  “Jane?”

  Her sister beamed. “Oh, Lizzy! Do congratulate me! Mr. Bingley asked for a courtship!”

  Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose, and her voice was higher than normal when she replied, “Courtship?” It was not what she expected, and she cast a quick look at Darcy, who spoke to Bingley with a serious, possibly disappointed, expression on his face.

  Jane’s words interrupted Elizabeth’s silent assessment of the situation. “He did propose.” Elizabeth said nothing but the astonishment on her face spoke volumes. “You do not blame me, I hope, for wishing to know him better? For desiring a courtship to prove his constancy?”

  Elizabeth immediately saw the wisdom in it. “Of course not! A courtship is splendid, and you deserve every reassurance of his faithfulness and affection, although I am sure you can understand if I tell you I do not doubt his intentions for a moment.”

  Jane smiled more broadly at this. “I am the happiest creature in the world!”

  Elizabeth felt joy for her sister, but she also felt a twinge of disappointment. She did not experience any felicitous feelings upon her betrothal, nor would she have a true courtship. Then she smiled as she met Darcy’s eyes, recalled his words of love, and mused to herself that perhaps he was a better suitor than he gave himself credit for.

  Bingley and Jane walked on towards Longbourn, while Darcy and Elizabeth walked in easy silence for a few moments until Darcy broke the stillness. “Elizabeth, I forgot to inquire yesterday, but what did my aunt’s note to your father say?”

  Elizabeth stopped walking and blushed in remembrance. “Oh! She offered twenty five thousand pounds to put towards our dowries if my father would refuse to honour our engagement. She also promised the silence of everyone at Rosings and the parsonage. Can you believe it?”

  Darcy was clearly incredulous. “I am shocked, indeed. You may know I help her with estate business. Unless she has secret funds somewhere, I do not believe she could pay that amount. Nor would I trust her to honour the understanding, and she certainly cannot ensure silence from Collins.” He paused, evidently uncertain if he should say what he thought next. “I hope your father understood the ridiculousness of her offer.”

  Elizabeth frowned and admitted, “He considered it, but I believe he thinks better of it now. He promised to listen to you this afternoon.” She gave him an earnest look. “I believe he has many questions, but you must make him understand how important it is to keep my sisters safe from Mr. Wickham.”

  Elizabeth took Darcy’s arm as they began their walk again. He placed his free hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze. “I assure you, I take my duties as a brother very seriously. I shall find a way to protect them, even if he refuses to heed my advice.”

  Elizabeth could not find the correct words but attempted to display her approval with her eyes and a smile as they reached Longbourn’s door. Upon their entry, they were greeted by Mrs. Hill, who explained Mr. Bennet’s desire for an audience with Darcy in his library. After a shared, tentative smile, they parted in the hall.

  *****

  Darcy reached Mr. Bennet’s study just as Bingley was leaving the room. Bingley gave Darcy a wide smile, and Darcy clapped his friend on the back in congratulations of the evident blessing he received from the Bennet patriarch. Darcy then took a deep breath before entering the room. He hoped to keep his temper under control this time.

  Mr. Bennet stood upon Darcy’s entry. “I hope you enjoyed your walk, Mr. Darcy? Please, be seated.”

  Trying to add warmth to his address, Darcy replied as he sat, “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

  Neither man spoke for a moment. Darcy was unnerved by the silence but felt it better to
defer to the older gentleman. Mr. Bennet shifted in his chair, then leant forward with an earnest expression. “Mr. Darcy, I must apologise for the offences I gave yesterday. Quite simply, this whole situation, from your attachment to the circumstances resulting in the necessity of the engagement to my daughter’s suddenly improved opinion on your character, has shocked me deeply.”

  Darcy merely nodded his acceptance of Bennet’s words and allowed him to continue. “I admit I was not inclined to think of you in a favourable light after your conduct in Hertfordshire last autumn. My daughter explains that you feel uncomfortable amidst strangers, and likely because of our insecurities in the face of your elevated rank and vast wealth, we perceived that as pride.”

  Darcy was about to speak when Mr. Bennet gave him a level look. “I hope you do not think me too mean or unjust if I am not too swift in undoing my prior understanding of you. But I do allow that I never saw anything immoral or irreligious about you.” Glancing at a letter on his cluttered desk, he added, “And according to my brother, I must disregard everything I heard from Mr. Wickham.”

  Darcy sat silently for a moment to ensure Mr. Bennet was done speaking before he began his reply. “First, sir, I must apologise to you and your family. You daughter is partially correct. I do feel uncomfortable in the company of strangers, but until your words yesterday, I refused to consider the times I alter my behaviour when I believe it worth my efforts. I was in the country for many weeks and remained aloof instead of making friendships. It was my pride that prevented amiability on my side, though not due to fortune and rank as you supposed.”