Compromising Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Anthology

by Rose Fairbanks

  He doubted he would have such a problem when he called at Longbourn. Last night, the impropriety of the Bennets was enough to break through his lustful distraction, and tomorrow, he was to meet Elizabeth’s relations from London, Mrs. Bennet’s brother and his family. Darcy had small hope of finding them pleasing company. He found he cared little for his own discomfort, but to cause Elizabeth such mortification last night was inexcusable.

  At the moment, he needed exercise. Darcy called for his valet and sent a servant to alert the stables. Upon arriving there, he saw Bingley preparing to mount his horse, clearly ready for travelling.

  “Bingley, what is this?”

  Bingley would not meet his friend’s eyes. “Oh, Darcy. I left a note for you with the footman. I must go to Town on urgent business today.”

  “But what is it? Can I be of service?”

  He shook his head and studiously adjusted the saddle and his horse’s bit. Darcy believed his friend was attempting to conceal something, but such arts were beyond what he expected of Charles Bingley.

  At last, Bingley glanced at Darcy. “Yes, actually.”

  “You need only ask, my friend.”

  “I will meet with my solicitor this afternoon. We had planned on your attending with me. Do you have any final words of advice?

  “Meeting with the solicitor! Why are you changing plans? I know I once jested that should you be determined to leave a place and a friend asks you to remain while you are even on the horse, you would agree, but I truly do not understand why you must urgently leave.” Bingley muttered something under his breath. “What did you say?”

  Bingley closed his eyes, as though pained, then opened them, and Darcy could see real distress there. “Darcy, I….” He gulped and tried again. “It is necessary.”

  Darcy started. “Necessary? Bingley! You mean…”

  Bingley nodded. “Last night…”

  “You were missing from the ballroom for some time.”

  “Yes, Jane and I were speaking of books, but I said I could not speak of books in a ballroom. So I requested to show her the library, and Mrs. Bennet allowed it. What did you think of the punch?”

  Darcy gave Bingley an incredulous look. “You ask me about the punch?”

  “I believe Jane and I had too much. I...I remembered why you needed to marry so quickly. I know you regret the actions, but you cannot regret that you will marry Miss Elizabeth more quickly and avoid all of Mrs. Bennet’s exclamations. The four days of rain, when I could not see Jane, was torture.

  “I thought kissing Jane would be enough for me. I believed when we did not soon return that Mrs. Bennet would come for us, we would be found kissing, and I could demand an earlier wedding date. We were there for quite some time and very...very agreeably engaged, but no one interrupted us. The punch went to our heads. Jane showed me every encouragement; it was so refreshing.” Bingley hung his head low. “I have greatly wronged her.”

  For some minutes, Darcy knew not what to say. “Bingley, when did you think to direct Miss Bennet to the library?”

  “Days before the ball. I found a ready opportunity when she fled the supper room in embarrassment.”

  He looked at his friend sharply. “You were not under the influence of the punch then.”

  “No. But when I found her in the library she was so upset…”

  Darcy interrupted. “But you believed you should act similarly to me? I told you my shame and guilt; you knew it all. And you thought it was wise to emulate me?”

  “I only thought…”

  “You thought? Of whom did you think, Bingley? Yourself! Did you consider how Miss Bennet would feel having her mother find her in the arms of her betrothed? And you know Mrs. Bennet would gossip about it! She already gossips about Elizabeth. Or what if someone else happened upon you? Did you consider how Jane would feel being the subject of hearsay and rumours—and everyone watching to see if she fell with child? Did you consider a child?”

  Darcy was enraged; the feelings of self-reproach he had managed to suppress the last several days re-emerged in full force and were turned on his friend. He did not shout —it would not do for the stable hands to hear their conversation —but there could be no doubt of the anger he felt.

  “And what do you do next? Run to Town and hide for days without even seeing to her well-being? Without apologising or assuring her of your regard and steadfastness? She is likely full of self-reproach and regret. Will you even be back before my wedding? Jane will be distraught at your absence, which will also upset Elizabeth. Your impulsiveness is really too much at times.”

  Bingley had turned pale as his friend began berating him but seemed nearly roused to anger as time went on.

  “Darcy! I ought to have judged better than to attempt such a scene, especially as I know you were drunk when it happened. But going to Town to settle things as quickly as possible is exactly what you did, and in your perfectly right mind. And how do you know Jane and I did not speak about this? I did not pass out in a drunken stupor only to awaken alone with the evidence of my sins and leave it to my friend to explain my absence. You may treat Elizabeth that way, but I love Jane and would not abandon her to such misery. We are betrothed, at least; what did you say or offer to Elizabeth before you stole her virtue? You cannot even remember! You go too far!”

  Darcy stumbled backwards as though punched. Is there no end to my selfishness? He had not spared a thought last week for the pain and confusion Elizabeth might feel by his unexplained absence. He had inconsiderately thought only of his duty and obligation to arrange everything as quickly as possible. And he had bowed under his guilt; he could not face Elizabeth and instead left like a coward. He did not realise then that he loved her, but it did not excuse ignoring her feelings upon discovering his absence or how he had arranged everything to his choosing.

  After a lengthy silence, in which Bingley looked quite uncomfortable and Darcy looked thoroughly ashamed, Darcy spoke. “You are perfectly correct, Bingley. Forgive me for my unjust accusations. But pray, stay until Friday. Elizabeth and I leave for Town after the wedding breakfast, and I can much easier help you while there. Also, I have no wish for another to stand up with me.”

  “Of course, I forgive you. What of your cousin, the colonel?”

  “I did not inform any of my family of my upcoming nuptials. To tell one would be to tell them all, and I would rather present the marriage as a fait accompli to the earl...and Lady Catherine.”

  “So none of your relatives will be coming?”

  “Not a one. Not even Georgiana.”

  Bingley shook his head. “Darcy, it will look as though you are ashamed of the connection.”

  Darcy exhaled. What a mess he had made; he never considered people might think that.

  “I will send an express to Sidney House immediately. I doubt Henry can take leave so quickly, and the earl and countess will not be pleased, but hopefully they can send the viscount at least.”

  Darcy started to walk back towards the house, but Bingley stayed him. “Darcy, why not enjoy your ride? You can send the express when you return. It is still very early, hours before most of Town wakes. Enjoy your ride; refresh yourself. Jane does not expect me at Longbourn, and perhaps you can send a note explaining matters to Miss Elizabeth as well.”

  Darcy readily agreed, and the friends parted.

  *****

  Despite the late hour of the ball the previous night, Elizabeth awoke early. The events of the past fortnight had tried her equanimity, and she desperately needed exercise. She would never dare acknowledge to another living soul that she was anxious. She found herself in a remarkable position akin to her mother’s fits and tempers, leaving her feeling quite fluttery inside. Elizabeth had to own that at times she suffered sensations of what could only be called panic. She would not succumb to the spate of nervousness barely concealed and instead chose a restorative walk. She simply must regain control of her good sense lest she make herself ill. Already, her anxiousness had delayed
her courses.

  In addition to recent events, this day would be her last free one in Hertfordshire, and she did not wish to waste a moment of it abed. She longed to farewell the countryside she knew so well. It had been her haven and refuge. She loved Jane, but Elizabeth believed not even her dearest sister could calm her the way the well-loved paths did.

  What are the grounds like at Pemberley? I have heard from Miss Bingley about the magnificence of the house and library, but I do not even know if William enjoys the outdoors. What if he wishes to spend all our time in Town?

  Her worries threatened to fill her with dread. She had never dreamt when she accepted Darcy’s proposals that she would marry him in less than a fortnight! She expected a proper engagement period, and even when the date was first proposed, she could not have known there would be four days of rain to suspend their further acquaintance.

  Oh! What does it matter? A mere four days would have done nothing but allow her mother more time to be vexatious and subject Darcy to her antics, parading them through the neighbourhood. The fact was, Elizabeth was marrying a virtual stranger; the man she had known prior to staying at Netherfield had been a defensive pretence.

  The notion compelled Elizabeth to run, to sprint. She had always hoped to have a loving marriage of equal minds, yet a moment’s whim had irrevocably bound her forever to a man she barely knew. She felt like a frightened deer, pushing herself by instinct alone. Her reason left her as her senses told her to climb the highest hill, and she did. She reached the crest utterly out of breath and forced her mind to empty. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on breathing in and breathing out.

  She relaxed and stilled as a gentle breeze played with her bonnet ribbons, bringing with it the faint comforting scent of woodland and smoke. The chirping of the birds as they caught their morning meal placed a cheery tune in her mind. This perfect meditation did more good against the pounding in her head and nervous flutters of her heart than any of Mr. Jones’ powders ever could.

  Keeping her eyes closed, she sat on the still wet grass. Her good sense demanded she evaluate matters rationally before convincing herself she was doomed to a life of misery on the eve of her wedding.

  An undeniable fact was her obligation. She had allowed Darcy liberties and enjoyed his attentions at Netherfield. Propriety was rather strict in its expectations of a lady’s behaviour.

  When asked, she consented to his proposal. She pledged herself to him. The betrothal was announced, settlement papers signed, and the licence purchased. Breaking the engagement was impossible; she would never hurt her family in such a way. She would marry Fitzwilliam Darcy the day after tomorrow.

  Perhaps that was the source of her unease. She had expected more time to know him better, to learn his likes and dislikes, but perhaps it all meant nothing. Last night, she learnt that six young men had intended to ask for her hand, all due to a sermon intended to browbeat them into the idea of marriage. She had perceived no special regard from any of them in all the years she had known them, and if there had been regard, what kept them from displaying it openly? None of the men was known for reserve. During each man’s dance with her, they had painted the same picture of her, which did not portray her character in the slightest. They were mistaken in her character; to them she was only what they wished to see.

  Not many weeks ago, she had mocked Charlotte’s opinion that happiness in marriage was a matter of chance. Elizabeth insisted that Jane and Bingley could not know each other well enough to sufficiently declare their regard; their evenings together could only allow them to know which card game they preferred and which dishes were their favourites but not enough to reveal depth of character.

  What do I know of the man I will marry? She attempted to catalogue her dealings with him. Although he had seemed to enjoy loo the first night at Netherfield, the table did not reappear for the remainder of the week because, according to Miss Bingley, Darcy did not wish it. He sang and danced well and was fond of reading and disagreements.

  Now be fair, Lizzy! She pushed herself to re-examine her thoughts and consider more than the things she noticed that supported her first impression of him as haughty. He certainly enjoyed any library, was intelligent and well-informed. He expressed himself eloquently if he so desired. He debated fairly, listened to her views, and did not demean her opinions. He valued constancy and thoroughness before making a decision. Though not perfect, he admitted to believing in addressing his failures. He had humbled himself repeatedly when asking for her hand and in every meeting since, especially last night while apologising for slighting her at the assembly.

  Additionally, she overheard the servants at Netherfield call him the best landlord and master. Mr. Bingley’s valet attested to observing Darcy for years now, and even the local maid spoke of seeing his kindness and generosity. Elizabeth had also witnessed his devoted communication with his sister.

  Now knowing his difficulty making new acquaintances, Elizabeth was forced to concede the only disagreeable thing she knew of him was his acknowledged implacable resentment, but she presumed that was not hastily formed. She might not know his preferences about nearly anything, but she knew Darcy was a good and just man and would be reasonable during their disagreements. Surely, if he preferred to sit in his library in Town and read all day, she could find some kind of compromise that would allow her to ramble, properly escorted, in a nearby park. He could be charming and light-hearted, and he took the time to listen to her concerns. She was finally calmed and remembered all the logical reasons she had accepted his proposal. More than all of this, he seemed to have affectionate and passionate feelings for her and would wish to make her happy.

  Suddenly, Elizabeth’s memory was assaulted with the memory of his scent from his coat, the sensation of being in Darcy’s strong arms, and feeling the heat of his body and the warmth of his breath as he spoke gently and fervently to her. She recalled hearing the pounding of his heart matching time with her own, his scent overwhelming her, and his curly hair between her fingers. She perfectly remembered the look of absolute sincerity in his eyes as he declared she was the handsomest woman of his acquaintance. Finally, she allowed herself the pleasure of reliving his kisses and the intoxicating taste of his lips on hers. She remembered what happened next, the feel of him invading her mouth and his hands when they...

  She collapsed backwards, nearly undone by the memory of Darcy’s ardour the night before. She willed her body to better regulation. Lying in her state of bliss, she was alerted to the presence of another when she heard a horse neigh. Before she could fully regain her senses, she felt herself being lifted by strong arms and enveloped in a familiar scent. Upon realising she was being carried to the horse, she shrieked, trying to flee even as the arms tightened around her.

  Chapter Ten

  Darcy rode hard, relishing the freedom as the wind blew past his face and tugged on his coat. He knew he ought to spend the time reflecting on his character and all the mistakes he had made, but he simply needed activity to silence the harping recriminations.

  After nearly half an hour, he slowed his animal and followed a wooded path. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the woods from a less-worn path and dashed up the hill ahead of him. With a start, he realised it was Elizabeth, and she ran as though fleeing from something chasing her. He looked again to the woods and paused to listen, but there was no evidence of a large animal. He had lost sight of Elizabeth but continued up the path in the direction of the hill.

  “Miss Bennet!” he called out, but she did not reply

  “Elizabeth!” This is altogether too similar to last night. She runs in times of turmoil.

  Darcy crested the hill and saw her standing still with her back to him. He dismounted and tied his horse, then walked to stand in front of Elizabeth to speak to her. By then she was sitting but seemed to not hear his approach. Her chest was heaving, and her eyes were squeezed shut. Her face was marked with lines of confusion, but gradually it eased, and her breathing evened.

 
; Darcy had no earthly idea what to do. She seemed entirely unaware of him as she daintily sat on the grass in silence for several minutes. Then as suddenly as she calmed, she grew agitated again. Her face flushed, then she swooned.

  Attempting to quell his panic, Darcy swept up his beloved and began walking to his horse. He could see she was still breathing. She came to with a start and began shrieking and trying to jump down from his arms.

  “Elizabeth, calm yourself,” he said as he stood her on her feet.

  “Beast!!” She ran several paces away.

  Darcy stared at her. She fears me? She believes I am a beast. Did she think I was going to force myself on her while she was unaware?

  He attempted to mask the deep pain he felt. He needed to be sure she was well. Without approaching any closer, he gently called to her. “Elizabeth, are you well? You swooned and frightened me. It is still just dawn, and you cannot have had much rest to be about so early. Please, allow me to see you home.”

  She looked at him, and even at the relative distance, he could see the wild fear in her eyes.

  “No, I am well. I can return home on my own.”

  Darcy stood still for a moment, fighting his dejection, wanting to be considerate of her feelings and still assure her safety. “Might I follow you at a distance to be certain you arrive?”

  The fear in her eyes eased, and she looked at him appraisingly. “Sir, I know these paths well and…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away. When she met his eyes again, she was crying.

  Blast it all! He took a tentative step closer.

  “This is my last day to enjoy the countryside for quite some time, I suppose, and being out of doors does me good.”

  Darcy understood; she was saying goodbye to her home. Not just the building and the people but the thousand little overlooked things, each of which constituted her sanctuary and brought comfort.