An Unwanted Proposal: A Pride & Prejudice Variation

by Lane Cossett

  Elizabeth felt as if she was going to scream. It was most perplexing. Where was her father and where was Mr. Darcy?

  “Mother, perhaps Mary should play for us while we wait?” suggested Jane.

  Kitty groaned, but Jane ignored her. “It would entertain us all.”

  Elizabeth looked despairingly at Jane. It was kind of her to try and calm her mother, but to suggest Mary should sing was too much. Mary was the least musical of the Bennet daughters and yet thought herself the best. Her singing was usually conducted off-key and very loudly. Many people in Meryton still muttered about the pain of hearing Mary Bennet sing.

  Mary had put down her book and was already sitting at the pianoforte when the door opened. It was Mrs. Hall again.

  “Where is Mr. Bennet, Hall?” asked Mrs. Bennet.

  “In his study, ma’am. He would like a word with Miss Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth eagerly got to her feet. She could not wait to get out of the room. At least she was spared from listening to Mary.

  The housekeeper closed the door firmly behind them.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hall.” Elizabeth hurried to her father’s study, knocking and entering as soon as she heard his command to enter.

  Mr. Bennet was seated behind his desk. She was surprised to find him alone.

  “You wanted to see me, father.”

  “Indeed I do. Come here, child.”

  Elizabeth suddenly felt worried. She had expected Mr. Bennet to be smiling, but he was not.

  Her father came out from behind his desk and gestured for her to sit down. She sat down on the dark leather sofa and her father sat down beside her.

  “My dear, Mr. Darcy spoke to me this evening to ask for your hand in marriage. I believe he has already spoken to you.”

  “Oh, yes, he has, sir,” said Elizabeth, smiling as she remembered Mr. Darcy’s tentative proposal.

  “Well, I must say, Elizabeth, I was rather surprised. You have been very clear about your views of Mr. Darcy and as I recall they have never been complimentary.”

  Elizabeth blushed but she did not look away from her father. “I regret my past words. Never have I been so very wrong about the character of a man. Mr. Darcy is a good man, a very good man, who I love deeply.”

  Mr. Bennet patted her on the arm. “That is nice to hear. Mr. Darcy seems to think very highly of you too. I have never heard him speak with such eloquence. Perhaps he is not quite the reprehensible man we have all thought he was, but as you have learned with Wickham, the most charming of men are able to deceive.”

  “Not Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth vehemently. “There is not a man who can be trusted more than him.”

  Mr. Bennet dismissed her words with a wave of the hand. “Yes, yes. I can see how fond of him you are but, Elizabeth, I have to tell you that I refused my permission. I do not think he is quite the man for you.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth fell open. She had never received such a shock in her life.

  “Father are you trying to tease me?”

  “No, I am not,” said Mr. Bennet, getting up. He went and sat down behind his desk and started to shuffle some papers around. “Elizabeth, I have told you my views and there is nothing more to be said. Mr. Darcy’s offer has been refused and I have told him that he is not welcome at Longbourn again.”

  5

  Elizabeth could not move. Her legs felt soft and she knew if she tried to stand they would not support her. Her father was still looking at his papers as if the momentous news he had just delivered meant nothing. She would not allow him to simply dismiss her in such a manner.

  “Father, I wish to talk to you,” she managed at last.

  Mr. Bennet did not even look up. “There is nothing more to be said on the matter, Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy proposed, and I have declined the proposal. I now have things to do.”

  Elizabeth’s heart was pounding heavily in her chest and her hands felt suddenly clammy and she found herself shaking. Was it anger or distress? She did not know.

  “Father, I want to understand why. Please explain. You owe me that at least. I love Mr. Darcy.” She had never had to plead with her father before, but she did so now. He was crushing her dreams and she had no idea why.

  Mr. Bennet paused, and she could see him considering what to say next. Then he put the paper down with a sigh. “You say you love this man, Elizabeth, but it was not so long ago you disliked him heartily.”

  Tears were stinging her eyes. “I know that, father, and some of the things I have said about him cannot be excused, but I know him better now. He is a good man.”

  “He certainly appears it, but I am not so certain,” said Mr. Bennet thoughtfully.

  Elizabeth wanted to shout at him. She did not dare raise her voice, but she had never been so sorely tried. For the first time in her life she had a little sympathy for her mother, who found her father so difficult when he wouldn’t listen. She took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. looking at him squarely. “Father, you do not know Mr. Darcy well. We owe our current status and our future to him.”

  Mr. Bennet looked at her over his glasses. “What do you mean?”

  Elizabeth stood up. Her legs still felt shaky, but she could not talk to her father from where she was. She wanted him to be able to see her and see how serious she was. She walked over to the desk. She was going to reveal a secret that she had always thought that she would keep to herself. She nibbled at her bottom lip as she struggled to form the words.

  “What is it, Elizabeth?” asked Mr. Bennet gently.

  “I know you think it is Mr. Gardiner who arranged the marriage between Lydia and Mr. Wickham, but it was not. It was Mr. Darcy. He alone found out where they were, talked to them and arranged the marriage, and paid Mr. Wickham off.”

  Mr. Bennet listened carefully to what she was saying and as the tale unfolded, he started to smile. “Well, well, well…Who would have thought it?”

  It was not the reaction she had expected. Elizabeth was unsure whether her father smiling was a good sign or not. She pressed on with her tale. “You know the sort of accusations that Wickham has made against Mr. Darcy, you even warned at the time how good he was at telling a sad tale. I wish I had listened but I didn’t.” The words were coming more easily now. “I have heard from people who refute Mr. Wickham’s stories and considering the way he ran off with Lydia, he is the man not to be trusted.”

  Mr. Bennet nodded and Elizabeth held her breath. Now that he understood the situation better, surely he would change his mind?

  “It still does not mean Mr. Darcy is to be trusted,” said Mr. Bennet, “though this does make him seem a more reasonable man.”

  “Oh father.” Elizabeth hit her hand down on the desk in frustration and saw the look of surprise in Mr. Bennet’s face. She immediately regretted the action. “I am sorry, father. There is little more that I can say, only that if you knew the cost to Mr. Darcy in helping Mr. Wickham you would see him very differently.”

  “He is a man of wealth,” muttered Mr. Bennet. “I should hardly think it hurt him at all.”

  For the first time in her life Elizabeth felt as if she was looking at a stranger. She did not recognise her father at all. “I am not talking about money, sir. Mr. Wickham caused a great deal of trouble in Mr. Darcy’s life, trouble which if you were aware of the details you would not approve. That, sir, is what I am talking about when I speak of the cost. The cost to his pride and his feelings…”

  Elizabeth’s words faded away as the emotion bubbled up in her throat and a solitary tear fell down her face. She wiped it away impatiently. “Please, father, I beg of you. Change your mind. Let me marry Mr. Darcy.”

  Mr. Bennet pushed back his chair and, standing up, he turned and stared out of the window onto the back garden.

  Elizabeth stayed silent. She did not know what more she could say. She had always thought of her father as a fair man. How could he continue to refuse Mr. Darcy? Even if he did not like him she was certain now that he knew about Lydia he would
see he was not a man who was dishonest.

  Mr. Bennet continued to stare out of the window. Looking at her father’s rigid back, Elizabeth wondered what was going on in his mind. She had never known him to be like this. It made no sense. He had approved of her decision not to marry his cousin, Mr. Collins, stating he was a nincompoop, so why would be so unhappy that she wanted to marry a man of Mr. Darcy’s stature?

  At last her father turned around. In the gloomy light she could see he was unusually serious. “Elizabeth, I know that you will find it hard to believe my words, but I am asking that you trust me in this matter. Mr. Darcy is not the man for you and I will not allow you to marry him.”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, but her father held up his hand. His voice was firm and cold. “No, Elizabeth, that is enough. We will not speak about this again. You will not marry Mr. Darcy.”

  Elizabeth felt her heart drop. Looking at her father, she realised he was resolute in his decision and he would not be changing his mind. A lump formed in her throat as she tried to suppress her tears. How unfair could life be? Jane would soon be married to Mr. Bingley and her father had been delighted with their upcoming union. Why should she be condemned to staying at Longbourn enduring a hysterical mother and two very silly sisters?

  “Now come, Lizzy. You are a sensible girl. You will recover from this. In the future, I am certain you will make a better marriage, and all of this will be forgotten.” Mr. Bennet smiled at her and, pulling out his chair, sat once more and started reading. When she hadn’t moved, he looked up peering at her over the top of his glasses. “Run along Lizzy.”

  Elizabeth wanted to say more, but all she could see of her father was the top of his head as he examined his papers. Willing her legs to move, she stumbled out of the room feeling more wretched than she had ever felt before. She could not understand how her father, who she had always believed loved her, would deny her the chance of marrying the only man she had ever loved. She had never experienced such pain. She felt as if her heart was breaking. As she closed the study door behind her, the tears started to pour down her face.

  6

  “Darcy, are you going to tell me what has happened?”

  Darcy shook his head. He and Bingley were now on their way back to Netherfield, trundling along in Bingley’s carriage. Darcy had anger coursing through his veins as he remembered the conversation he had held with Mr. Bennet. Mr. Bennet thought of himself as a gentleman, but he was no gentleman to have treated him in such a way. He had refused to countenance a marriage between Elizabeth Bennet and himself. Not for a moment had Darcy anticipated that. He did not understand why Mr. Bennet was so against him.

  He’d heard Mr. Bennet moan about wanting to get his daughters off his hands and now he that had been given an opportunity for one of his daughters, he had denied it.

  Darcy had tried to discover the reason. “Sir, I have to say that I am quite astonished. Can you tell me why?”

  Mr. Bennet had been happy to explain. “My daughter, Mr. Darcy, is quite flighty with her affections and I do not believe you are the man for her.”

  Mr. Darcy inwardly bristled. “What do you mean, sir?”

  Mr. Bennet had seemed unmoved by his irritation. “You are not the first man to ask my daughter to marry her, sir. She hurt that person rather badly.”

  “And may I ask who that may be?” asked Mr. Darcy.

  “You can, sir, but I am afraid I will not answer it. It is not fair to the person concerned. I can only tell you that my daughter’s affections have once been directed elsewhere.”

  Mr. Darcy did not believe what Mr. Bennet was saying. He had seen nothing in Miss Elizabeth Bennet to believe that she would trifle with a man’s feelings. She had been startlingly honest with him and he was certain that she would have been with anyone else.

  “Sir, you have known your daughter for many more years than I, but I still believe she is as fond of me as I am of her. She will have a good life at Pemberley and I believe we will be happy together.”

  “I’m afraid you cannot persuade me to change my mind,” said Mr. Bennet sipping at his drink. “You live in Derbyshire and I have no wish for Elizabeth to be so far away from the rest of her family.”

  “But, sir, it is only fifty miles or more. It is no distance at all,” said Darcy, who thought nothing of travelling long distances.

  He had a feeling Mr. Bennet was not telling him the real reason for why he would not give his permission for him to marry Miss Bennet.

  “Sir, if there is something else that I should know, I would be grateful if you would tell me.”

  He noticed that Mr. Bennet would not meet his eyes and his hands were gripping tightly onto his port glass.

  “There is nothing else, Mr. Darcy. You and my daughter will not marry, and I am sorry to tell you that you will not be welcome here again. Now perhaps we should finish this conversation. You should leave, and I will speak to my daughter.”

  It had taken a few moments for Darcy to move, such was the strength of his anger. He had always been very adept at hiding his feelings, but on this occasion, he found it extremely difficult. He had never thought for one moment Mr. Bennet would refuse him permission to marry Miss Bennet. He could only imagine how hurt she was going to be. Perhaps when she heard the news she would be able to persuade her father to change his mind.

  And that had been the end of the conversation. Unable to bear returning to the drawing room at Longbourn he had sent a message to his friend via the housekeeper and once Bingley had joined them they had left.

  “Darcy, will you not at least tell me why we had to leave Longbourn so swiftly?”

  Darcy sighed. “I am sorry, Bingley. We had no choice. Mr. Bennet threw me out.”

  “Mr. Bennet?” Bingley was incredulous. “I do not believe it.”

  Mr. Darcy flushed. His anger was causing him to exaggerate. He tried to sound calmer. “Bingley, the man asked me to leave.”

  “But why? What did you do to offend him?”

  Darcy felt a stab of irritation. Why did his friend think he was the one to blame? “The offence was for me to ask for the hand in marriage of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

  Bingley sat up in his seat and leaned forward. “Darcy, why did you not tell me? My dear fellow, this is splendid news. I am so delighted.”

  “Bingley, I suggest you temper your delight. Mr. Bennet was not as thrilled as you and he refused his permission and asked me to leave and never to return to Longbourn again.”

  Darcy could not hide the bitterness from his voice. Mr. Bennet was a stubborn fool who had refused to listen.

  “But what reason did he give?” asked Charles Bingley.

  Darcy could barely say. He was still very angry about it. “He said something about a lack of trust in me.”

  “What!” Bingley’s voice rang out in surprise. “There is no one more trustworthy than you. Would you like me to talk to him?”

  Darcy was touched by his friend’s offer but knew it would not work. Bingley was no match for Mr. Bennet in his current mood. “Thank you, but no. You cannot jeopardise your own relationship with Miss Bennet for mine.”

  Bingley fell silent and no more was said as they travelled back along the bumpy tracks towards Netherfield. Darcy was grateful for the quiet. He found it difficult to believe that within the course of one day he had experienced such happiness when Miss Bennet had agreed to marry him and now such despair at Mr. Bennet’s refusal.

  He had always known that he would have to marry to ensure the future of Pemberley, but he had never expected to fall deeply in love with a woman as beautiful, charming and intelligent as Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He had never proposed or even come close to proposing to any other woman. The thought of not marrying her now that she had accepted his proposal was untenable.

  As they arrived back at Netherfield, the coachman got down and opened the carriage doors for them. Bingley led them up the steps and into the house where his housekeeper was waiting to take their coats and hats.
>
  “Darcy, a drink? I am in need of one,” said Mr. Bingley.

  Darcy nodded. Part of him wanted to be alone, but he also wanted his friend’s advice about what he should do next.

  He followed Bingley along to the library which was smaller than the one at Pemberley, and half the shelves were still empty. At one end there was a billiards table. Bingley handed him a cue.

  Darcy took it. “I thought you were offering me a drink.”

  “In a little while,” said Bingley, taking another cue. “Come, we need clear heads while we think.”

  Darcy was uncertain, but Bingley was already getting in position to take his first shot.

  “Are you going to talk to Mr. Bennet again?” asked Bingley as the first ball slid towards a hole, wobbled and then fell in.

  Mr. Darcy sighed. “How can I? He has told me that I am not welcome at Longbourn.”

  “So, what will you do?” asked Bingley as he positioned himself for a second shot.

  “Leave and return to Pemberley.”

  Bingley stood up in surprise. “Darcy, I do not believe you would give up so easily. Do you love Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

  Darcy was not comfortable in talking about such matters even with his friend, but he nodded. “Bingley, I have as much affection for Miss Elizabeth Bennet as I believe you do for her sister.”

  “Then why would you give up so easily?” asked Bingley, taking another shot so carelessly that the ball jumped up and fell off the side of the table.

  Darcy picked it up for him and put it back. “I do not want to give up, but if Mr. Bennet has refused his permission, what else can I do?”

  Bingley did not immediately answer, and Darcy took up his position to take the next shot. He hit the ball hard and several balls disappeared down the holes. He placed the cue on the table. He did not want to take his anger and frustration out on the ball.