Compromising Mr. Darcy

by Rose Fairbanks

  “Darcy, you heard Mr. Black’s sermon. I know you would say I am guilty of those sinful thoughts about many ladies, and you would be correct, but I do it so much more with Jane, and it is different. I truly believe I love her. If I walk away because she is not wealthy enough or because of her family, as Caroline and Louisa encourage me to do, would not I be making a mockery of marriage? My honour has no other choice.”

  Darcy was surprised to hear words that matched his convictions so closely. In another moment, he decided he was not surprised at such honesty; Bingley was his friend and confidant for a reason, after all.

  “I was honest with Mr. Bennet. I explained my convictions and how the sermon affected me. I asked for a short engagement; I...the temptation is great, and I could not bear to dishonour her. He only laughed at me.”

  Darcy could easily believe it of the man. He hoped he would not need to be forceful with Mr. Bennet to be allowed to marry Elizabeth quickly. Darcy wondered where the ridiculousness of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet ended.

  *****

  The next day, Darcy’s palms were sweating as he rode in his carriage to Longbourn with Hurst. Bingley and his sisters had called on the neighbourhood to issue invitations to the ball they were hosting the following week. Darcy chose not to join them. He planned to confess his actions to Mr. Bennet. He could not spend all day with strangers in the neighbourhood, then hope to survive Mr. Bennet, and if he were not thrown out directly, be civil for the rest of the afternoon with the Bennet family as they hosted the Netherfield party for dinner.

  He genuinely thought he might be ill. He had not confessed to another of wrongdoing in a very long time. In fact, as a child, the majority of the offences for which he was punished were in truth the petty boyhood misdemeanours of George Wickham. Even as a child, Wickham was proficient at charming his elders and placing blame on Darcy. Obviously, none of the infractions were near the sin of seducing a gentleman’s daughter was. He clenched his fists as he thought of the man who attempted to ruin his sister, the sister he had raised for the last five years. If I ever see him again...

  Darcy was startled from his thoughts by their arrival at Longbourn. Much sooner than he would have liked, he was speaking to the housekeeper and requesting a private audience with Mr. Bennet. He was invited to wait in the drawing room for a moment, and he was certain he felt akin to those facing the gallows.

  When he and Hurst were announced, Darcy noted the presence of several of the militia officers in addition to his own party. He dared not meet any eye in the room, for he doubted his wickedness could be concealed for very long after he told the truth to Mr. Bennet. He knew the Bennets would look on him with disgust. He had not spoken to, or even seen, Elizabeth since her acceptance of his proposal outside of Netherfield.

  He was just determining to at least look at her when he heard a familiar voice that made his heart stop. He turned to see Wickham, the man who had been a scourge in his life for twenty years, sitting beside his Elizabeth—much too closely—and trying to whisper in her ear! His blood boiled, but he was instantly calmed by a desire to protect her even more than possess her. Time slowed as he saw Wickham look at him with a haughty and smug expression.

  Elizabeth turned her head, too. She seemed shocked to see him, as she evidently had not heard him be announced. She smiled slightly at him before an anxious and possibly displeased expression crossed her face.

  Darcy blinked rapidly as the amused voice of Mr. Bennet broke through the haze in his brain.

  “Mr. Darcy, are you unwell? You have not moved or answered me these many times I have called your name.”

  Darcy faced him with a hint of instability in his voice. “Forgive me; I am quite well.”

  Mr. Bennet paused and seemed to expect more by way of an answer; when he received none, he invited Darcy into his library.

  Darcy stared at the port poured before him, and although his nerves would have enjoyed the fortifying effect, he knew he would not drink it.

  The two men sat in silence before Mr. Bennet ventured, “Mr. Darcy, you requested this meeting.”

  With sweat forming on his brow, Darcy nodded. He could not remain seated and chose to pace around the room, to the obvious satisfaction of his companion. Out with it man! Every minute I spend in here is a minute more she is subjected to Wickham. He was determined.

  “First, may I speak with you on a matter involving one of your guests?” Bennet nodded his assent.

  With a voice full of vehemence, he said, “Mr. Wickham, the man nestled so nicely next to your second daughter, is an utter libertine. Wickham has the appearance of a fine fellow, but he leaves a trail of seduced ladies—or worse—everywhere he goes.”

  Mr. Bennet looked at him with an eyebrow arched in scepticism.

  Realising words that could be little more than gossip were not enough, Darcy hastily but quietly explained, “One near victim was my sister. She was but fifteen at the time. She is the last of my family, and I am her guardian. I was deceived by her companion, who was in collusion with him, and Wickham nearly convinced Georgiana to elope with him. She is to inherit thirty thousand pounds, which he sought to fund his dissolute inclinations. An heiress is the only sort of lady he would ever consider marrying, but I have known him to seduce or force himself on several maidens by implying marriage, then abandoning them with no means of enticing him into matrimony. Although I believe he targeted my sister out of a desire for revenge on private matters, I would charge you to protect your daughters by all means possible.”

  Mr. Bennet looked amused, and Darcy repressed his frustration that his companion did not take him seriously.

  “I thank you for your timely information, young man, but I take it that is not why you came to see me today.”

  Darcy tried not to feel affronted at Mr. Bennet’s demeanour. Hopefully, the man would understand Darcy’s concerns over Wickham’s attentions to a Bennet lady once the engagement was explained.

  “Mr. Bennet,” Darcy spoke with authority, and the older gentleman straightened to attention. “Four days ago, I asked for your daughter Elizabeth’s hand in marriage, and she accepted. I have already been to Town to begin the process of the settlement.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small packet of papers.

  Mr. Bennet sat in stunned silence as Darcy placed the papers on his desk. “I can leave these for you to peruse; I suggest you do not tarry over them. You will see that she will be amply provided for as befits her new station. I will not withhold what is due the Mistress of Pemberley; despite her lack of fortune, she will want for nothing.”

  Mr. Bennet seemed to grow irritated, but Darcy ploughed forward. “I also met with the archbishop—he is a friend of the family—and have procured a special licence…”

  “What is the meaning of all this, Mr. Darcy? I cannot believe Elizabeth consented to marry you, and you importune me with this overbearing display. A special licence without my consent! And next you will demand to marry her in a week’s time and steal away with her?”

  Darcy looked Mr. Bennet in the eye. “It is necessary and prudent, sir.” Darcy doubted he could say more and hoped Mr. Bennet would understand his meaning.

  The two men locked eyes for a moment as a variety of emotions flashed across Bennet’s eyes, particularly disbelief and anger. He slumped back in his chair.

  “No, it cannot be.”

  “I assure you, I am the last man who wants to admit this, but I am guilty of…”

  “Of?”

  Darcy let out a short breath. “Come, Mr. Bennet. You are a man, and her father. Do you really want me to explain fully?”

  “I must speak with Elizabeth.”

  Darcy was growing annoyed with Mr. Bennet. He was taking an honourable action while a practiced rake sat in the drawing room free of reproach. “If you mean to try and change her mind, I should inform you she agreed to this betrothal with no coercion from me. But by all means, call her in.”

  “Alone!” Mr. Bennet snapped.

  �
�As you wish, sir. Allow me to explain. Miss Elizabeth is the only woman of whom I have even had such thoughts, and I am perfectly happy to submit to my duty and marry her. Indeed, I should have felt an obligation to her for many weeks now. You may be assured I will treat her with all due honour and respect as my wife.”

  Before either man could say anything further, a gentleman’s voice cried out in alarm, followed by the wails of several ladies from the drawing room. Fearing the worst, Darcy nearly ran to the adjacent room. Mr. Bennet was hard on his heels.

  Arriving in the drawing room, they saw Elizabeth wave off the notice of the room. Darcy stopped just short of Elizabeth. She stood near Wickham, who was covered in what appeared to be uncomfortably hot tea all over his lap, and he was angrily glaring at her.

  “Oh, dear! I hope I have not ruined your clothing. They do say a gentleman is known by his fashion.” She dropped her voice in words meant only for Wickham, “And now your disgustingly soiled clothes perfectly match your lack of gentlemanly behaviour. Had not your actions just betrayed you so clearly, I had already recognised you for a blackguard and a liar. How dare you try to impugn Mr. Darcy’s honour in this house!”

  Darcy and Bennet were near enough to hear the quiet speech to Wickham, and Darcy was ready to speak when Mr. Bennet clapped a restraining hand on his shoulder.

  “Mr. Wickham, allow me to call my valet to assist you with your clothing before taking your leave.”

  Wickham looked surprised, but after looking at Darcy, seemed to accept his fate. “I thank you, Mr. Bennet, but that will not be necessary.” He bolted from the room, with his fellow officers trailing behind.

  *****

  Mr. Bennet turned to Elizabeth. “I would speak with you immediately.”

  She only nodded, and her father spun on his heel towards his library. Turning to Darcy, she quickly asked, “You told him the truth?”

  “Disguise of every sort is my abhorrence.”

  “Everything?”

  “He knows it all.” Elizabeth blushed, but Darcy squeezed her hand. “The fault was mine entirely. You have no cause for shame.”

  She smiled a little and glanced around the room. The officers were gone. Kitty and Lydia were in secret conference, tittering, no doubt, about the young men who had just left. Her mother and Jane were making conversation with Mr. Collins, but he seemed ready to burst across the room to speak with Mr. Darcy. Mary was reading in the corner, avoiding everyone.

  “You will be well?”

  Darcy chuckled. “I do not see any sharp teeth or claws amongst your family. I do think I will survive. Should they prove too unruly, I will attempt to offer up Mr. Collins as a sacrifice.”

  This jest earned him musical laughter from Elizabeth. She was astonished to think he could lift her spirits so easily. Shaking her head, she left for her father’s study.

  *****

  “Are you out of your senses to be accepting this man?”

  Elizabeth winced at her father’s angry tone but mused silently, No, it is my senses of which I am now acutely aware. My sense of sight, scent, hearing, feeling, taste are all uncommonly aroused by him. She blushed deeply. Taste? She attempted to tell herself that her mind only meant that she enjoyed dining in his company, not that she desired to taste his lips.

  “Elizabeth!” She jumped. She had been too preoccupied to hear her father’s words. After she had met his eyes, he continued, “Mr. Darcy says you accepted his proposal.”

  “Yes.”

  “While at Netherfield.”

  She blushed. “Yes.”

  “Because of Netherfield?”

  Blushing so red she thought she might faint from the heat on her face, she replied, “Yes.”

  Her father stared at her silently for several moments. A few times, he began to open his mouth, but when no sound was forthcoming, he would close it again.

  She knew not how she countenanced bringing such obvious displeasure to her father and could only attempt to alleviate his concerns. “It was an accident, and Mr. Darcy is doing precisely the honourable thing. He is not the proud and haughty man I thought he was. I feel...I know he is worthy of my esteem and admiration.”

  “You cannot possibly think he is a gentleman!”

  “But he is! I was only too proud to see it through my wounded vanity.”

  “Exactly! Your opinion improves as you are flattered.”

  “No, Papa. He respects me and treats my opinions equally. He is intelligent and can be perfectly amiable. Before leaving Netherfield, I heard several servants praising him. He is a generous master and landlord, very conscientious to the needs of others.”

  “You did not accept him due to obligation?”

  “Only...only a little.”

  “I confess I cannot begin to understand how such a thing is possible, and from you!”

  She grew pink-faced again but honestly replied, “I should have left the library directly, but I was astonished by how playful and amiable he was. He insisted we dance, which was intoxicating, and when we were finished I went to leave, and he knocked over a glass, breaking it. I was so foolish as to cut myself trying to clean it up. The...” She paused and decided to stretch the truth a bit. “The sight of my blood made me feel light-headed, and Mr. Darcy tenderly helped stop the bleeding and assisted me to my chamber door. I should have insisted I go from the library on my own, but he was so attentive that I could not refuse.”

  Her father startled for a moment and paused, seeming to take in all of Elizabeth’s words, a look of wonder passing his face. “Elizabeth, I desire to be perfectly clear here. He left you at your door?”

  “Of course!” Elizabeth supposed it was only natural for a father to be suspicious of a man who confessed to taking liberties with his daughter. Undoubtedly, her father would desire reassurance from her as well.

  “But then why do you feel obligated to him?”

  Elizabeth reddened further. How dearly she wished for this interview to be over! “I confess...” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “I confess that I enjoyed his attentions.”

  “Due to your vanity?”

  “Certainly not! I...I know the difference between shallow attention and genuine attachment. What I feel for Mr. Darcy is beyond what I have ever felt before; it is not gratitude for his attention or professed admiration.”

  “Admiration?”

  How like Darcy to keep his feelings private and only express the facts!

  Smiling a little, she answered, “Yes, the morning he proposed, he confessed to having admired me all along.” She chuckled and added, “Even as he spoke only of duty for the liberties he took. He caught me entirely unawares, and I declared his offer unnecessary. After church, he asked again, and having had time to properly consult my feelings, I accepted him.”

  A sly grin slipped across Mr. Bennet’s face. “You rejected him at first?”

  “I did!”

  “And you say he asked again after church?” Elizabeth saw her father was clearly piecing a puzzle together, but she could not fathom what it was.

  “Yes.”

  “And you do like him?”

  “I do!”

  “And you wish for this union?”

  “Yes, if anything, I feel even more certain with each day.”

  “I am glad I was mistaken, dear child. Do you know he has bought a special licence? I believe he wishes to marry very quickly. He must worry you will change your mind again!”

  Elizabeth grew alarmed that Darcy might be suffering from such a misapprehension. Her father understood instantly and said, “You may go to him, then, and reassure him.”

  “Thank you, Papa.” In an instant, she was gone.

  Chapter Five

  Bingley and his sisters arrived at Longbourn just after the militia officers were leaving. The one he vaguely recalled meeting earlier in the week appeared to have spilt tea all over himself. He chuckled as the man walked swiftly down the path as his comrades called out for him to slow.

  Upon be
ing announced in the drawing room, Bingley’s sisters immediately sat near Darcy and began fawning over him. Darcy looked more piqued than usual, and Bingley could only surmise the meeting with Mr. Bennet did not go well. Miss Elizabeth was absent. He raised his eyebrows to Darcy, who nodded in the direction of the library. No other kind of inquiry was possible, so instead, Bingley settled next to his angelic Jane.

  He wished to merely gaze at her, but Mrs. Bennet would not allow him peace. “Such an honour you give us, Mr. Bingley, by arriving today.”

  She looked expectant, and Bingley finally recalled that he came to deliver his invitation to the ball. “Thank you for receiving us. My sisters and I are delighted to invite you and your family, including Mr. Collins,” he glanced at the man, “to a ball on Tuesday.”

  “Tuesday! Oh my!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet.

  “Mama, will I have time to re-trim my green gown?” Miss Lydia asked.

  “You mean, my green gown!” Miss Catherine declared.

  “Girls! You have no compassion for my poor nerves. Or Mr. Bingley’s,” she exclaimed, her voice shriller than them all.

  Beside him, Jane stiffened slightly. “Would you care for some tea, Mr. Bingley?” Jane turned to him and gave a warm smile.

  “Thank you.” He smiled back.

  She rang for tea, and he watched, longing for the day when their encounters could be more than mere smiles and civil conversation. Memories of asking for her hand and kissing her flooded his mind.

  “She is a very good girl,” Mrs. Bennet said, interrupting Bingley’s thoughts.

  “Indeed,” he replied.

  “She never was a spot of trouble, and she never will be. She has the sweetest disposition in the world and is so beautiful!”

  Bingley could hardly disagree, but Jane appeared mortified. He searched for something to say. “You are correct, madam. I have thought her angelic from the first moment I saw her.”