Although their road to wedded bliss had not started off smoothly, they had in each other, found their true soul mate. Darcy had stepped in and secured the future of everyone she held dear. He truly was the best man she had ever known. And this year was going to be special. Everyone had been able to accept their invitation and was to spend the festive season with them at Pemberley. Elizabeth had no doubt it would prove to be a happy, and most interesting, house party.
THE END
Darcy to the Rescue
Darcy was waiting on the steps of Netherfield as the carriage rolled to a halt and Charles Bingley jumped out. Having left town before the clock struck eight, Bingley was pleased to finally stretch his legs. They briefly exchanged pleasantries about the weather and Bingley’s journey and then adjourned to the Library for a hot toddy. Stevens had left the coffee pot and whisky decanter on the table for the gentlemen to help themselves as instructed. Darcy half filled their cups with coffee and then topped them up with a generous glug of the whisky. Passing one to Bingley he said,
“It’s good to see you, Charles.”
Bingley took a decent swallow of the potent brew before replying,
“Thank you, Darcy. I very nearly didn’t come. My sisters had arranged several outings for us. But your letter was so cryptic, curiosity got the better of me,” He reminded Darcy of the brief contents of the missive.
Charles
Return to Netherfield,
I implore you not to delay.
Come alone.
Darcy
“Yes, I’m sorry about that, Charles, but I know your sister Caroline has a habit of accidentally opening letters that are not addressed to her,” Darcy explained.
“Well, what was so urgent that it demanded my immediate return?”
Darcy knew he must make a clean breast of things regarding his interference between Miss Jane Bennet and Charles, but how. He did not want to upset or alienate his closest friend, but he could hardly stand by his opinion that Jane was unfit to be Charles wife when he intended to make Elizabeth his own. Feeling suddenly unprepared to make his confession, Darcy merely leant forward and refilled his glass saying,
“Nothing that won’t keep,” he lied. “I was lonely, that’s all. Perhaps we can talk after lunch?”
Bingley agreed to this plan and then went to wash before the noonday repast was served.
Normally, Elizabeth would have walked to Netherfield, but seeing the state of the paths, she was glad that her mother had insisted she take the carriage. Mrs Bennet had intended to send the footman over with an invitation for Darcy to dine with them, but Elizabeth knew he would most certainly be expected to deliver it on foot. So she was happy to deliver it personally and save the poor man a wretched walk.
She set off straight after luncheon and arrived at Netherfield a little after two. The footman showed her into the day room and then withdrew. She expected her host to arrive momentarily, but after several minutes had elapsed and she was still alone, she decided to look for him herself. The entrance hall was deserted, but she could hear voices coming from the upstairs drawing room. Determined to deliver the invitation in person, she began to climb the stairs. As she neared the top level, the voices seem to get much louder, too loud in fact. Taking care to make no noise herself, she crept closer until she could hear each word that was spoken. The occupants appeared to be in the middle of a heated discussion. Although manners dictated she either retreat or make her presence known, Elizabeth did neither.
“You, engaged to Miss Elizabeth? You can’t be. I won’t believe it, Darcy.”
“It’s true, Elizabeth and I are engaged to be married,” Darcy confirmed.
“How can you be when you steered me away from such a union with her sister Jane,” Bingley scoffed. “They have very little money and no worthy connections, you said. Her heart appears untouched where you are concerned Charles, that’s what you said. Do you deny it, Darcy?”
“No, I do not deny it Charles, but if you pause for just one minute, I will explain,” Darcy said as he tried to reason with his friend.
“Explain? What is there to explain?” Bingley said raising his voice to an even greater level. “You can marry Miss Elizabeth because that is your desire, yet Jane and I are to remain estranged. You are a two faced hypocrite Darcy, and I never thought I would see the day you put your own self-interests above all others. In light of your declaration, I no longer feel bound by your council,” Bingley bellowed and then opened the door to leave.
Unfortunately, Elizabeth was blocking his exit. Unperturbed, he stepped around her with only a slight incline of his head in acknowledgement of her presence.
“Charles, come back and let me explain. There is much more to…” Darcy fell silent the minute he saw Elizabeth. His first thought being, how much did she hear? Her next words told him, everything.
“How could you? Oh, I suspected you did not approve the night of the ball. The look of disdain on your face gave you away. But to stoop so low as to try and separate two people, who are clearly very much in love, well, it confirms all the defects of your character I previously thought you possessed,” she spluttered, then turned on her heels and sped down the stairs.
Darcy followed her down the stairs pleading,
“Elizabeth, let me explain. It’s not as bad as it sounds. Elizabeth please, won’t you, at least, hear me out?” he beseeched.
Elizabeth spun around and faced her intended. In her eyes, there was no explanation he could give that would redeem him. She threw her mother’s invitation at him and spat,
“If you have any semblance of a gentleman about you, you will make your excuses.” She hurried through the front door and into her carriage before he could stop her.
Darcy stood open mouthed. How could so much have gone awry in just a few minutes? Unaccustomed to having people leave when he was mid-way through a sentence, he briefly thought them in the wrong, but only briefly. He realised his actions had been the cause of both Charles and Elizabeth’s outrage, and rightly so, from their perspective. But in his heart of hearts, he had only tried to protect his friend from what he thought, at the time, was another fortune-hunting mama forcing her daughter into a loveless match. These past few days he had seen first hand how Jane pined for Charles, and he now knew he had been mistaken in his opinion of her. He must make amends and today. Yet he doubted he would be welcome at the Bennets’ now. Then he saw the crumpled piece of paper Elizabeth had hurled at him and stooped to pick it up. It read,
Dear Mr Darcy,
Mr Bennet and I would be honoured
if you and Mr Bingley would accept our
heartfelt invitation to come and dine
with us tonight.
Yours,
Fanny Bennet.
Darcy knew instantly that he still intended to go, and if he could talk Bingley ‘round to attending with him, so much the better. Whether he wanted to listen or not, Charles would hear his explanation and then his apology. After that, it was up to him to decide his own future.
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To Love Mr Darcy
The Bennet family finally arrived home from the Netherfield Ball in the early hours of the morning. They collectively declared the ball was a great success, and professed to have enjoyed it immensely, with four of the five sisters being engaged for almost every dance. All except for Mary, who thought such frivolous activities were a waste of time. She preferred more sombre pastimes, like reading and practising on the pianoforte. Whether this was true or she was just making excuses because no-one asked her to dance, none of them knew.
So it was no surprise that the entire family, even Mr Bennet, had decided to forgo breakfast in favour of the warmth and comfort of their beds. Imagine their surprise, when midway through a light luncheon, Mrs Hill announced a caller was waiting in the parlour.
“If quite convenient,” Mrs Hill conve
yed, “He would like to speak to the master in private.”
“Is it Mr Bingley?” Mrs Bennet, still a little queasy from her overindulgence the previous evening, quietly asked.
“It is not,” said Mrs Hill, “but it is that gentleman’s close friend, Mr Darcy.”
Mrs Bennet momentarily forgot the pounding in her head and demanded with a raised voice,
“Mr Darcy! What business can he have with you, Mr Bennet? He is too proud for my liking and danced with almost no-one last night. How I hate the very sight of him. Tell him to cool his heels until you have finished your plate, sir,” expelled Mrs Bennet, wishing she had not been quite so exuberant with her speech.
“Now now my dear, it is the calling hour after all. Though I must confess, I am interested to know what Mr Darcy could want with a humble squire like me?” replied Mr Bennet as he tried to soothe his wife's ire.
Mr Bennet did not return to finish his food. So it was to the small sitting room where the ladies usually passed their time, which he returned. He wore a very solemn expression and quickly ordered Jane to take her three younger siblings upstairs. Then, Mr Bennet raised his hand to silence his wife as she began to question his actions. Turning to his favourite daughter, he said,
“Lizzy, my dear, Mr Darcy would like to speak to you; he is waiting for you in my study. Run along now, don’t keep him waiting,” he instructed.
Elizabeth was confused. She could think of no reason why Mr Darcy would wish to speak to her. He was universally disliked by the whole family and only tolerated because he was Mr Bingley’s particular friend.
She tapped lightly on the door and then entered.
Mr Darcy, who was looking out of the window, now turned and offered her a slight bow. He motioned for her to take a seat, although he remained standing. His tall, muscular frame filled the small window, and only a few shafts of light escaped from around his silhouette.
“You are well after last night’s festivities, Miss Bennet?” he asked curtly.
“Yes,” she replied, and then sat quietly waiting for him to continue.
“Miss Bennet, these last weeks since I arrived in Hertfordshire have seen my emotions thrown into turmoil,” he began. “I have experienced periods of great pleasure, and ones of confusion and self-reproach. And at the heart of all this is you, Miss Bennet. My heart is not easily touched, and, struggle as I might, I find that you have found a place in it. As I have confided with your father this morning, I am willing to overlook your inferior birth, your lack of fortune and lowly connections in the pursuit of my own happiness. Therefore, Miss Bennet, I would ask that you accept my hand in marriage and consent to be my wife,” he finished.
Elizabeth sat in stunned silence. Had he just asked her to marry him? Apparently so, if you could call being insulted an offer of marriage. Obviously, it was quite impossible. However, she was mindful of the honour he conferred upon her and said,
“I thank you, sir. I am conscious of the honour your offer would bestow on both my family and me, but I must decline.”
“Miss Bennet, you misunderstand me,” he said stoically, “My asking you is merely a formality. Your father has already approved the match, and we will be married here at Longbourn in one month.”
Elizabeth could not believe what she was hearing. Her father had given his consent, and without talking to her first? No, it could not be.
“I am afraid there must have been some mistake sir. My father would not have approved our match without seeking my opinion first.”
“I assure you, there is no mistake, Miss Bennet. I laid out my terms to your father, and he found them quite acceptable,” he informed her.
“Well, sir,” Elizabeth said defiantly “I am not inclined to accept your offer, and nothing could induce me to do so.”
Darcy studied her for a moment, not missing the defiant tilt of her chin. She was earnest in her rejection.
He pulled up a chair and sat before her.
“Miss Bennet, you are a dutiful daughter, I am sure, and will in time come to see the wisdom of your father’s decision,” he said in a slightly softer tone.
“You have many qualities that I admire in a woman. You are a gentlewoman of good breeding and from a respectable family. You have a keen mind and a sharp, but not unkind wit. You enjoy the outdoors, and though a little too tanned for society, you are a very handsome woman.” He paused briefly before adding, “And though you are not inclined to show it at present, I know you possess a kind and generous heart. These are all qualities that I would look for in my wife.”
Seeing her pursed lips, he concluded by saying,
“I am seven and twenty, Miss Bennet, an age when marriage is more appealing to me than the pursuits of a bachelor.”
By now, Elizabeth was furious and no longer tried to hide her ire. A fine speech, yet there had been no mention of love or affection. As she had sworn to marry for only the deepest kind of love, which clearly was not to be found here, she was firm in her resolve to refuse him. She folded her hands in her lap and raised her chin even higher.
Darcy could scarcely contain his smile. Her stubbornness was another quality he admired, but best not to encourage it just at this moment.
The upward turn of his lips made her angrier than ever. And now he is laughing at me. She wanted to stamp her foot in frustration as he enjoyed her predicament.
“I am sorry, Mr Darcy, but my answer stands. I cannot marry you. Now, if you will excuse me.” She stood to leave.
Exasperated by her continued refusal and dismissal of his heartfelt speech, Darcy also stood. Then, as she made her way to the door, he delivered his fait accompli,
“Miss Bennet, you are not one and twenty for four months. You will follow your father’s direction. And trust me, we will be married four weeks hence.”
Desperate to escape the room to ask her father if it was true, Elizabeth shot him a burning glare of defiance and then slammed out of the room.
Unfortunately, she bumped straight into Mr Collins, who gave her no time to make her excuses.
“My dear cousin Elizabeth, how fortuitous that we should meet like this. I was just coming find you. Your mother has given me her blessing to seek a private interview with you,” he said in a nasal drawl.
Elizabeth, still in shock from her encounter with Mr Darcy, let herself be guided to the sitting room. It wasn’t until Mr Collins closed the door behind her that she understood the full meaning of his words. She was about to protest that his words would be in vain when he began his address.
“I have happily received the blessing of my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine De Bourgh, in my mission to find a wife. And more by design than luck, I have found her here, at Longbourn. You, my dear cousin Elizabeth, are the recipient of my love, which I can tell you has been building these past few days. I can honestly say, no other could fill that place in my heart, but you.”
Elizabeth was astonished to be receiving a second proposal, both of which were unwelcome. How ironic that her mother was concerned that none of her offspring would find a husband, yet here she was receiving her second proposal in one day. She looked at Mr Collins and felt a pang of pity. He was confident his position in life, elevated by the acquisition of his noble patroness, would bring him all he desired. In truth, he was only her puppet. Elizabeth knew she could never love or respect a man like that. She waited for him to conclude his speech and then replied in a conciliatory tone,
“Mr Collins, I am honoured that you would pick me to be your companion through life, but I am afraid I have just received and accepted another proposal.”
A white lie, she knew, but she did not want to give him hope where there was none.
His expression of anticipated acceptance changed to crestfallen rejection. She gave him a weak smile and then rose to leave.
“Miss Elizabeth, might I ask who has beaten me to your heart?” he asked.
“Mr Darcy,” she replied with a forced smile.
“Then, cousin, I am heartily sorry
for you.”
Why would he feel sorry for her? She may not like it, but even Elizabeth could admit Mr Darcy was a highly eligible catch.
“The match is an elevation for you to be sure, my dear, but do not suppose that the likes of Lady Catherine De Bourgh, or Lord Matlock, will welcome you into the family. No, my dear cousin, a life of rejection and isolation lies before you.”
Ignoring his bitter words, she hurried from the room to find her father. She must demand that he rescind his consent before this went any further. He must see that she could not marry a man like Mr Darcy. Not only was he universally disliked in the town, but because of his despicable treatment of Mr Wickham.
When she reached the rear parlour, she flung the door open and scanned the room for her papa. But before she could utter a word, Mrs Bennet jumped up and took her into her arms, kissing her on both cheeks.
Elizabeth was taken by surprise, as this kind of outpouring of affection was usually reserved for Jane or Lydia.
“Oh, Lizzy, how clever you are to make Mr Darcy fall in love with you. And all the while we thought him indifferent. What fine things you shall have, carriages, servants, and plenty of pin money. And with your connections, you can introduce the girls to other rich men. But we must make haste with the preparations, for Mr Darcy was most insistent on you being married before Christmas. Oh, Lizzy, you have saved us all, has she not, Mr Bennet?” she gushed.
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