Compromising Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Anthology

by Rose Fairbanks

  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.”

  Lady Catherine looked sharply at her clergyman, and her eyes narrowed. “Her? Do I understand correctly that your troubles involve one of the young ladies who are your guests?”

  Mr. Collins did not seem to discern the beginnings of Lady Catherine’s wrath and fearlessly replied, “Yes, madam, my cousin, Elizabeth. Though I should not be surprised at her wanton acts, given the flirtatious behaviour I saw her younger sisters exhibit. Indeed, it was one of the reasons I could not bear to unite myself with the household. For who would wish to connect themselves to such a family?”

  Losing her patience, Lady Catherine’s shrill voice broke in, “What grievous wrongdoing has your cousin committed, Mr. Collins? I demand you come to the point.”

  The gentleman blushed slightly and, while attempting to bow over her hand to ask forgiveness, explained, “My lady, it gives me great pain to tell you that she has used her arts and allurements to entrap your nephew in a most compromising manner.”

  Lady Catherine gasped and gripped the arms of her chair. “The colonel! Whatever was he doing with her alone?” After catching her breath, she declared, “Yes, send her away at once. Undoubtedly, she thought to secure him due to his connections, but he has not the income to marry her. She shall not see a penny of my money, so it shall all come to naught.”

  She waved her hand dismissively and began to demand Mr. Collins leave her presence when at last he managed to stutter, “Not the colonel, madam. It was…was…was Mr. Darcy.” The words came out in a squeak.

  Lady Catherine bellowed, “This is not to be borne! I am most seriously displeased!”

  Quickly realising that the notion of Elizabeth Bennet in a compromising position with Darcy was much different from that of the colonel, she began to make for the door. “Bring me to her at once! I shall deal with her myself! Mrs. Jenkinson! Mrs. Jenkinson!”

  Upon seeing her daughter’s companion enter, Lady Catherine continued, “Keep Anne in her room; she is not to leave. I shall be back after the dinner hour.” Thus, the nearly apoplectic Lady Catherine departed with a great rustling of skirts, followed by her toad of a clergyman.

  *****

  Lady Catherine fumed during the carriage ride to the parsonage and entirely ignored her clergyman’s bumbled apologies. She was outraged, of course, but more than that, the great lady was afraid. Terrified. Fitzwilliam Darcy was an honourable man and had successfully avoided London Society’s machinations of ensnaring him for the last ten years. If he were found in a compromising position, it must be by his own will. Additionally, for him to succumb to any desires of the flesh so blatantly could only mean one thing: he was in love with and betrothed to Elizabeth Bennet. But the lady could not fathom that her nephew, who held great familial pride, would forsake everything for a romantic notion. Few knew it, but the lady had a very quick and shrewd mind, and she instantly began to formulate a plan that would make her nephew bend to her will.

  Lady Catherine would provoke his pride and remind him of Miss Bennet’s inferior place in Society, of his duty to family. She would prey on his fear, that he was once again being used merely for his wealth and connections. Her ladyship was not above invoking his mother’s name or even using his role as guardian for Georgiana against him. Lady Catherine knew all about the aborted elopement last summer. Darcy’s beloved sister nearly married, in the most scandalous fashion, the son of his father’s steward. The betrayal felt by Darcy was all the greater, given his history with George Wickham, who was once a playmate and dearest friend turned depraved and mercenary, motivated by jealousy and resentment of the Darcy name.

  Should that fail, she would pressure Miss Bennet. Lady Catherine thought she noticed some reserved admiration from her nephew for the girl the prior evening but perceived no regard in return. In fact, it appeared she disliked him, or perhaps they simply were in the midst of a lovers’ spat. She knew Elizabeth to be intelligent but worried about her sensibility. If she were truly sensible, or what many called mercenary, all would work in her ladyship’s favour. But Lady Catherine believed the ridiculous girl was too principled to feign attachment and seek Darcy’s approbation to earn his esteem. Nor did she think him capable of being lost to blind lust. If Darcy could be taken in by a mercenary woman, he would have succumbed years ago. If he valued her, then she must be genuine.

  Lady Catherine would attempt to offer some funds for Elizabeth to break the engagement but suspected that plan would fail. With relatives as ridiculous as Mr. Collins, and knowing Miss Bennet had others in trade, it should prove no difficulty to find some harmful secret. Surely Darcy’s attachment could not withstand a scandal, and if Miss Bennet genuinely cared for him, she would not wish to tarnish his reputation. In fact, she knew exactly whom to hire. As Lady Catherine thought longer on the matter, she realised that although this plot would take more time, the expense would be less, and she was astutely aware of Rosings’ need for funds.

  The idea that her scheming for the past sixteen years may come to naught enraged the lady anew. She would not allow this union to continue. She had allowed Darcy too much latitude in the past, always bringing Fitzwilliam with him on visits, impervious to any chances of meeting Anne alone. This was supposed to be the visit that brought her greatest wish. Anne would be well settled, Rosings would be saved, and Lady Catherine would never see the dower house. Finally reaching her destination, she clambered from the carriage, surprisingly limber for her age due to her rage, blind to all else but her mission. Incensed, she barged into the parsonage.

  *****

  As usual, Mr. Darcy heard his aunt before he saw her, even more so with the thinner walls of the parsonage, and was thankful that he stayed within to shield Elizabeth from his aunt’s wrath.

  “Nephew, what is the meaning of this? I demand that you leave this harlot immediately. Depart for London to make arrangements for your marriage to Anne!” Lady Catherine thundered at Darcy, the feathers on her bonnet bobbing furiously as her whole body shook with rage.

  “I will not marry Anne, Aunt. I shall marry Miss Bennet and no other,” Mr. Darcy calmly replied.

  “Marry that Jezebel?”

  “Do not speak of my future wife in that way!”

  “Have you lost the use of your reason? She has beguiled you in a moment of infatuation and made you forget what you owe yourself and all your family.”

  “I assure you, my affection has been above six months; this is not the work of a moment. And I will not remind you again to not speak ill of the future Mrs. Darcy. She has always conducted herself with the utmost decorum and grace!”

  Lady Catherine began again, “I am the nearest relation you have in the world. Is this any way to repay me for all my notice to you?”

  “I believe my dear sister has that claim on me, and any attention you have given has been of a devious and selfish bent,” Darcy replied bitterly.

  “Let me be rightly understood. This match can never take place. You are engaged to my daughter. I shall make it known to this Miss Bennet and all of Society as well!”

  “You know that is the greatest falsehood, and it is a rumour perpetrated by yourself alone. If you announce that there has been a pre-existing engagement to your daughter, you shall only harm her reputation. I shall not be moved in this,” Darcy spoke uncompromisingly.

  “It was the dearest wish of your mother!”

  “Perhaps, but its completion depended on others. I am neither by honour nor inclination confined to my cousin, and I have made my choice.”

  “Do not expect her to be noticed by your family or friends. She will be censured, slighted, and despised by everyone connected to you. This alliance will be a disgrace; her name will never even be mentioned by any of us.”

  “These are heavy misfortunes,” Darcy said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “But our unio
n shall have such extraordinary sources of happiness attached to the situation that upon the whole, we shall have no cause to repine. Nor should you presume to speak for the entire Fitzwilliam family. You know I am the head of the Darcys.”

  “I am determined and resolute to carry my purpose. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment!” Lady Catherine spoke with an air of finality.

  “You are widely mistaken in my character if you think this will have an effect on me,” Darcy interrupted.

  Lady Catherine slammed her walking cane on the carpeted floor with such force that its loud thud reverberated through the room. She roared, “Hear me in silence! You and Anne are formed for each other. You are descended, on the maternal side, from the same noble line; and on the father’s, from respectable, honourable, and ancient, though untitled, families. Both of your fortunes are splendid.”

  Darcy did not flinch at her vulgar display and, instead, merely raised an eyebrow in scepticism at the last statement but allowed his aunt to continue.

  “I will not allow this upstart without family, connections, or fortune to divide you and Anne. If you truly cared for this strumpet, you would not wish her to quit the sphere in which she has been brought up! Society shall scorn her for reaching so far outside of her rank.”

  “In marrying me, she should not be quitting her sphere. I am a gentleman; she is a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are equal,” Darcy marvelled that he could realise such a truth while doing battle with his aunt.

  Lady Catherine tried the route of reason again. “True, she is a gentleman’s daughter. But who is her mother? Who are her uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition.”

  “Whatever her connections may be, I do not object to them. They can mean nothing to you.”

  “Fitzwilliam Darcy, I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more reasonable young man. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the assurance I require.”

  “And I certainly never shall give it! I am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable.” Darcy grew bored with her attempts at browbeating. His experience as master of an estate made him quite impervious to such arts.

  “You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the claims of duty, honour, and gratitude? You are determined to be ruined in the opinion of all your friends and make yourself the contempt of the world?”

  Darcy perceived Lady Catherine’s attempt at an acknowledged weakness in him: submitting to honour and his duty of position.

  Previously, Darcy wished he had not taken so long to overcome his reservations regarding a match with Elizabeth, but now he saw the blessing in so persistently studying the arguments until he could vanquish his concerns.

  “Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude has any possible claim on me. None of these shall be violated by our marriage.” he said with confidence. “And with regard to the resentment of my family and the indignation of the world, if the former are excited by our union, it would not give us one moment’s concern— and the world in general will have too much sense to join in the scorn.”

  “And this is your real opinion? This is your final resolve! Very well, I shall now know how to act. I hoped to find you reasonable; but depend upon it—I will carry my point.”

  “Enough!” Darcy had finally lost all patience, and though his countenance brooked no room for opposition, he did not bellow. “Lady Catherine, you shall not be welcome in any of my homes until you recognise my union with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You may ask your brother for help in matters of your estate. I wish you a good evening and good fortune in your life.”

  Opening the door to the parlour, he paused to see a dazed Elizabeth and an astonished Mrs. Collins at the bottom of the stairs. “Mrs. Collins, again, I apologise for this unpleasantness. Please let me know if I can be of any use. Come, Elizabeth. Let us depart.”

  He reached Elizabeth’s side and led her to the carriage with Mrs. Collins following to bid them farewell. Mr. Collins, who had been too awed earlier by the fury of his patroness to speak, hurried outside and stepped forward, in a moment of imprudent bravery, to offer his objections. Darcy’s fierce mien and cold glare caused the other man to retreat. Casting a last look at the parsonage, Darcy and Elizabeth embarked on their journey to London.

  Chapter Two

  Monday, March 30, 1812 continued

  Hunsford Parsonage, Kent

  Lady Catherine voiced her displeasure at her nephew’s unprecedented and outspoken condemnation of herself and any union with Anne all over the Hunsford Parsonage. Then she turned upon her clergyman and proceeded with her next attempt to destroy the engagement between Elizabeth Bennet and her former favourite nephew.

  “Mr. Collins,” she hissed, “you shall depart at once for Hertfordshire with your wife and her sister. You have displeased me greatly by bringing that woman to my household.” She had plans for him in Hertfordshire but wanted him to grovel first.

  “Forgive me, your ladyship. I assure you that I am most shocked by Miss Elizabeth’s behaviour, though her family does show a propensity for wantonness.” Mr. Collins bowed deeply in humility before her ladyship, and for a change, she was intrigued by his words.

  When he emerged from nearly licking her slippers, he continued, “Miss Elizabeth herself never showed any forward displays, and Mrs. Collins felt it would be beneficial for her to leave her family. We modelled proper comportment for her, something her family severely lacks, and believed she could benefit from your condescension. I fear our assistance came too late.”

  “You thought to bring a woman with such a vulgar family near my daughter?” Lady Catherine took a step back as though Collins was diseased.

  Mr. Collins bowed low again. “I was unthinking, my lady. We shall depart at once and stay until you have given us your magnanimous forgiveness. Although we cannot deserve it, your ladyship is so filled with Christ-like humility that you are the very image of saintliness. Please believe me, I would rather die a thousand deaths than ever disappoint or harm you again.”

  Lady Catherine rolled her eyes; she believed he was sufficiently ready to vow his service. Drawing close to her vicar, lest others overhear, she said, “Come to see me before your carriage departs. I have a letter that I shall entrust to you alone. You will succeed in this. You owe me this. If you cannot succeed, it will show you as the most ungrateful scourge God has placed on this earth.”

  “Yes, your ladyship. I shall never fail you again,” Mr. Collins declared with much conviction.

  *****

  Once seated in the luxurious carriage, Darcy observed Elizabeth’s pale face. She looked miserably ill, and he quickly assumed she was agitated by the hurtful words of his aunt. In a gentle tone, he asked, “Is there nothing that can give you relief? I believe there may be wine packed for us.”

  “No, I thank you. There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well. It is merely the strain of the day,” Elizabeth firmly replied.

  Darcy eyed her dubiously. “You must allow yourself to rest then.”

  “No, I shall be calmed in a moment.”

  He shook his head but allowed her stubbornness.

  She was quiet for several minutes, and Darcy was pleased to note that her breathing and colour returned to normal.

  After gaining her composure, she did not remain silent for long. “I thank you, sir, for defending my good name, as well as my family, when I know you dislike them.”

  Darcy cringed at her words. There was much he needed to say to her, but he was wary of speaking too freely in the presence of the maid serving as their chaperone. He glanced in the maid’s direction and found her sleeping.

  Elizabeth followed his eyes and seemed to understand him. In a very hushed tone, she said, “I suspect Charlotte believed we needed to speak openly. Molly has been her lady’s maid for years, and I have always known her to sleep soundly in a carriage. We might frequently argue, Mr. Darcy, but surely we c
an discuss things calmly and quietly.”

  Darcy merely nodded and took a moment to gather his thoughts. His aunt’s behaviour had given him a revelation. He reached across the carriage and took her small hands in his, then looked her directly in the eye. She startled slightly at his touch but did not withdraw her hands.

  “Elizabeth,” he began, gently squeezing her hands. “They shall soon be my family; of course, I shall defend them. As for not liking them, it is rather that I do not understand them and have found them to be too...” he searched for a gentle word, “enthusiastic for my reserved nature. Truthfully, I look forward to them as my family. Georgiana could do with more company of young ladies, and it has been a very long time since I have had a mother and father.”

  He stopped, realizing that instead of detesting the images of the Bennets at Pemberley, he was now enjoying the image of being part of a family again, albeit in small doses. Trying to jest, he added, “And no one can be worse than my Aunt Catherine.”

  Before the words were cold on his mouth, she asked, in a manner reminiscent of their debates at Netherfield, “And shall you enjoy my relations in trade?”

  Darcy’s eyes widened a bit, for she seemed genuinely convinced he would dislike them on rank alone. Although Darcy had initially dismissed Elizabeth’s suitability as his wife due to her connections, the concern was due to Society’s acceptance and not his own. They might not make him the envy of the ton, but her relations were still people and he would judge them by their merits and not their rank.

  His dislike of the Bennets and Hertfordshire society was because of their behaviour. Elizabeth esteemed her London relations, so he doubted they had so little sense as Mrs. Bennet, even if they were her brother and his wife.

  He countered with, “Mr. Bingley’s family comes from trade, and he is my dearest friend.” Of course, his sisters are horrid, but that has nothing to do with their position in Society.