And again he reminded himself that it was inconsequential; that nothing could come of them meeting again.
“Darcy,” Bingley said looking cautious. “Is everything alright? You seem rather preoccupied.”
“Yes you do,” Miss Bingley agreed. She stopped walking. “Why don’t we return to the house? We can send for tea and I will sing to you. My sister tells me I have the sweetest voice in all of England.”
“I am sure you do,” Darcy said wearily, “but do you know, I must…”
He could not explain it. All he knew was that he was overcome with the sense that he needed to get away. He turned and paced off before he could even finish what he was saying. Soon he broke into a run.
“Darcy!”
“I have just remembered an appointment!” he shouted over his shoulder, not breaking his stride for a moment. It was a nonsensical excuse—where could he have an appointment?—but it seemed to placate them. Or else the blood was pounding so hard in his ears that he could not hear them.
He had to get away; had to finally come to terms with the conflicting thoughts that were plaguing him once and for all. Before he went mad.
He felt stifled and confused. He was a logical man—how could someone so unsuitable just take over all his thoughts?
It made no sense.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he was paying little heed to his surroundings. He burst through a thicket of trees and gasped as he collided with someone who was rushing through from the other side.
Chapter Six
Mrs. Bennet seemed to be the only one who was quite pleased at having Mr. Collins as their guest. The rest of the inhabitants of Longbourn House were finding him extremely tiresome to deal with. He did not waste a moment in regaling them with tales of his accomplishments and spoke constantly of his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
“I am so blessed to have her as my patroness. She has been so benevolent and kind to me. In fact, she did invite me to dine at Rosings on more than one occasion and has the kindness to stop at the gate of the parsonage from time to time. Such a noble woman she is!”
For the past few days, all they had heard was talk like this. They were thoroughly bored of it by now, but even that was preferable to listening to him read from his ever-present book of sermons. Only Mrs. Bennet hung on his every word—or appeared to.
Elizabeth sensed her mother’s gaze lingering on her and a sense of foreboding came over her. She had been expecting this and she knew her mother too well to give her the benefit of the doubt. Mr. Collins seemed to have decided that Jane was too sickly for him—much to Jane’s relief as well as Elizabeth’s own—but the problem was he had directed his attention towards Elizabeth. She suspected that his proposal would come at any time, so she had been very careful to avoid him where possible.
She looked away. But her mother was nothing if not crafty, so she would need to stay on her guard.
“As I was saying.” Mr. Collins continued. He seemed to be at the tail end of his conversation and Elizabeth heaved an involuntary sigh of relief.
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh has bestowed on me her blessings to seek a wife for myself.” He beamed. “After much thought, I came to the realisation that Longbourn House would be the ideal place for me to find a match. You have five daughters after all, Mr. Bennet, and I’m sure you would be more than happy to wed one of your daughters to a pious clergyman like myself.”
Mr. Bennet looked suitably taken aback and Lydia burst out laughing, much to her mother’s chagrin. Elizabeth was shocked too—she could not believe Mr. Collins had referred to it so blatantly at the dinner table. Would he propose right here in front of them all? Nothing would surprise her anymore.
“Lydia! That is no way to behave in the company of such a fine gentleman,” Mrs. Bennet scolded, which caused Lydia to laugh even harder.
With a pained sigh, Mr. Bennet rose and left the table without another word. Lydia’s laughter continued, which only served to rile her mother even more.
“Go to your room!”
Lydia did not need to be told again.
“You too, Kitty!”
“But I have done…” Kitty trailed off, having been about to protest her innocence until it dawned on her that it might be best to get away from Mr. Collins’s endless talking while she had the opportunity.
By now Elizabeth’s heart was hammering. She was keenly aware of what was happening, especially when Mrs. Bennet shot Mary a significant look. Why had her father not seen what was about to happen and stayed to save her? She pushed her chair back and stood up quickly as Mary, too, was dismissed. “May I be excused too?”
Mrs. Bennet ignored her and focused her smiling face on their guest. “Oh Mr. Collins, I feel so honoured by your words. You are too kind.”
Kind? Elizabeth wanted to object. Kind? All he had done was lecture them, even though he was not much older than the older girls and did not seem to possess any more than a trifling amount of sense.
“Mama. I must go and check on Jane.”
“Nonsense, Lizzy. She is recovering well.”
Elizabeth’s heart hammered. Surely this was it—the moment she had gone to great lengths to avoid. “Perhaps not. I daresay Jane would not tell us if she was feeling poorly for fear of upsetting someone.”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes shone and Elizabeth realised her foolish mistake a moment before her mother spoke. “In that case I shall go and see to her myself.”
She waited until her mother had gone and stood to leave herself. “I ought to accompany her. Jane was so very ill that I still worry.”
“Nonsense. Your dear mother has gone and it would not be right to crowd the poor girl. You know, Miss Elizabeth, perhaps it is a great stroke of luck that your sister fell ill when she did.”
Elizabeth was horrified. “What do you mean? Surely you are not suggesting that you are glad?” She forgot her fear she was so shocked by the callousness of his words.
He showed no sign of regret. “Yes,” he went on. “I had my heart set on the eldest, but I must admit you are pleasant and Lady Catherine will definitely approve of my choice of wife. You must have noticed the moment I laid eyes on you, I had decided that I would have no other. The parsonage is simply not suitable for a sickly mistress, not when I am in residence in any case. Yes, you are a far better choice. When we are married, I am confident you will be thrilled at the comforts you shall find in the parsonage.”
Elizabeth gasped in shock. She had expected a proposal—now it appeared Mr. Collins was taking her agreement for granted. “But I cannot…”
He held a hand up and smiled as if he was indulging a child’s whim. “Now, now. There is no need at all to do that tiresome thing that young ladies so often do. The truth is I cannot abide this custom of false modesty. You are a pleasant young woman, Miss Elizabeth, and there is no need to pretend you are shocked and humbled by my proposal, though I suppose I am flattered by it in some sense. We are old enough and—“
“But Mr. Collins!” she cried. “You have taken me up all wrong!”
“My, you are insistent on performing this act. Very well.” He smiled a crooked smile. “Perhaps you would like for me to beg. I have heard that is a prospect that appeals to many young ladies.”
She shook her head. “Not at all. I do not want you to beg—why would I even expect such a thing when you have not even asked? In any case that does not matter. I cannot accept your proposal and I assure you that I am not being coy. That is my final decision and I shall not be swayed on the matter, I’m afraid.”
Mr. Collins could not believe his ears. He had never expected to be turned down and now stared at Elizabeth with an open mouth.
“I do believe you are toying with my emotions, Miss Elizabeth.” He said. “As I have explained, I understand that most young ladies feel they must carry on this ruse of innocence, but I have no patience for such trifles. Now, let us move on from this shall we?”
“I’m afraid that you totally misunderstand me,
Mr. Collins. I am not playing a game but being very forthright when I say that I have no intention of marrying you. Once more I must firmly state that my answer is to your proposal is No!”
“Come now my dear.” He persisted as he tried to hold her hand. “You cannot be serious about your refusal. You don’t know what you’ll be turning down. Not many are fortunate enough to live so close to Lady Catherine de Bourgh at Rosings—and I cannot make any promises but I daresay she would take a great interest in your development such is her fondness for me!”
Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She quickly disengaged her hand from his and hurried from the room, scrambling for the door and taking off from the house with little thought for where she was going? What did it matter? She had to get away.
Chapter Seven
Once again Darcy found himself sprawled on the ground in the woods with Elizabeth Bennet for company.
“You ought to watch where you’re going. You seem to be making quite a habit of taking a tumble in these parts.” He helped her to her feet.
“Forgive me, Mr. Darcy, though I cannot help but remark that I am not the only one.”
He smiled at her quick-wittedness and then stopped. Something about her suggested that her spirits were not as high they had been when they last met. Naturally he did not ask why, for doing so would have been highly impertinent.
“Did you choose to leave your horse at home today, Mr. Darcy?”
He shook his head. “I would have brought one of the stallions out to exercise him but I left in rather a hurry.”
“Oh.” The question in her tone was unmistakable.
Normally Darcy would not have entertained it. He did not know why he did now. He was a private person who had little tolerance for incursions into his affairs, but that was the thing—she had not uttered her question aloud. Rather it was a sort of keen curiosity that hung in the air. He did not know why he decided to speak so candidly, for it was something he would never usually contemplate. Even so, when he opened his mouth he found himself divulging rather more than he had expected.
“I worried that if I went back to get my house I might find myself subject to attention I do not want and have never asked for,” he said, kicking at the ground as he did so. “Is it too much to ask to be left in peace?”
He did not know what he’d expected from her. He still couldn’t understand why he had shared his frustrations in the first place. He was not expecting the look of recognition that spread across her face, accompanied by a heavy sigh.
“My goodness, Mr. Darcy. I do not know the reason for your own persecution, but I myself had to race from Longbourn House before I found myself bullied into accepting a marriage proposal I could not even bear to hear, let alone accept. Though he was so assured of my acceptance that he barely seemed inclined to actually put the question to me.” Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, you must forgive me. I am not usually so indiscreet, especially not to strangers. It is just…” she shook her head as if she was struggling to understand it.
Darcy wanted to pull her into his arms and reassure her that there was no need to apologise; that he knew exactly how she felt. He could not in good conscience do such a thing, so instead he shook his head and clicked his tongue. “You do not need to ask my forgiveness, Miss Elizabeth. If anything, I should thank you. You cannot know how much of a relief it is to know I am not the only one in the country tolerating such a maddening assault on my peace.”
Her face brightened and her eyes danced as she looked up at him again. “Pray tell me, Mr. Darcy, what gentleman is it that has been harassing you for your hand in marriage?”
He laughed at the absurdity of it—he couldn’t help it. It struck him that it had been a long time since he laughed so spontaneously and naturally. In fact, he suspected he had not laughed in such a way since his last meeting with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
“Oh you misunderstood me, quite wilfully, I believe! While I have not had the misfortune of being put upon in the exact same manner as you have, I have certainly grown tired of being followed around by young ladies who are so intent on acquiring my fortune that it seems they will say anything or stoop to any lows in order to extract a proposal. You are right—it is not the same thing at all.”
She grew serious. “It is not, I suppose, but it does not sound at all pleasant. You have my sympathy. I know very well how devious young ladies can be, myself included.”
“You? I very much doubt it!” he exclaimed. “It seems to me that you speak your mind and avoid the sort of scheming I have described.”
She shook her head. “Who can say? What you say is true, though. I do not see the sense in presenting a false sense of who one is in order to secure a marriage. After all, one would then have to live with that person for the next several decades, would one not?”
He nodded, amazed by how much he agreed with that sentiment. “It is quite so! I have often reflected on what bothers me, but you have put it rather more succinctly than I have ever been able.” He sighed and shook his head. “Though I fear these sorts of people care little. Perhaps I should marry—I am quite sure they would do everything in their power to stay away from me as soon as their comfortable lifestyle was guaranteed.”
“No!” she cried, appearing outraged. “I cannot allow you to do such a thing because of what I have said. What if the young lady did not retreat? What then? You might be stuck with her each day with nowhere to retreat.”
He shuddered at the thought of having Caroline Bingley walking the halls of Pemberley and demanding his attention. “Do not worry. I have only to consider the practicalities before I conclude that I could not agree to such a marriage.” He shook his head and it struck him that he was in a far easier position than she was. His position was assured regardless of whether he chose to marry or not. “May I ask what will be the consequences of your running away?”
She smiled. “You may, but I cannot answer. It is the first time I have received a proposal and the first time I have run from one. I cannot imagine my mother will be very happy.”
He had been about to reassure her that her mother would surely accept her decision when he realised that was probably untrue. He had enough experience with the mothers of unmarried young ladies to understand that the scheming often originated with the parent and not the daughter.
He did not reflect on that realisation for very long. He had been gripped by an idea so absurd that he was struggling to get the measure of it.
“Ah, I’m afraid I have bored you, Mr. Darcy.”
“No,” he said, still trying to make sense of the revelation that had just struck him. “Not at all. In fact, speaking to you has been the most enjoyable conversation I have had in a long time. It is clear you want nothing from me and you can have no idea how refreshing that is.”
She laughed. “Do you know it is the same for me now that you mention it! It is not that I am happy that you have been persecuted, but there is a certain comfort in knowing I am not alone in feeling this way.” She shook her head, still smiling. “Ah, if only marriage was about love and not security or position or fortune,” she said wistfully. “Then perhaps a lot of people would feel a lot more at peace. We cannot be the only two, Mr. Darcy.”
“Love has nothing to do with it,” he said quietly, his mind still working to analyse the decision he had only moments to make. “At least, it is so rare that one can have no expectation of finding it. Peace, on the other hand… Miss Elizabeth, I hope you will not be outraged given what you have run away from. I assure you that I will let the matter drop immediately if it is unfavourable to you and—“
“Mr. Darcy, you have gotten all worked up all of a sudden! Pray tell me what it is you are referring to because I’m afraid you have lost me!”
He had been babbling on as she spoke, which was alarming to say the least because it was most unlike him. The confusion in her eyes made him fall silent and take stock. What was the sense in going on endlessly, when he ought to get to the
point.
“Marry me, Miss Elizabeth,” he muttered. “And we shall both have the peace we so crave.”
“I beg your pardon?”
He was at a loss as to how better to explain it. He took a breath and tried to collect his thoughts. “We are both weary of those who seek to interfere in our lives and marry us for dishonourable reasons. Let us marry each other and be free of it! I will not seem so eligible to these young ladies if I already have a wife and it will be the same for you. We would be husband and wife in name only; meanwhile we would be free to explore our interests and live our days in peace and quiet.”
She stared at him, mouth opening and closing as if she was struggling to come up with an answer.
“Well?” he asked quietly, starting to feel misgivings. Did she think him a madman for suggesting such a thing? Had he misjudged her—would word spread around the town causing him to be even more sought after than ever?
Then she smiled and a strange calm fell over him. “I have enjoyed our talks very much,” she whispered. “And the prospect of no longer having to evade my mother’s attempts to marry me off would be very pleasant indeed.”
“What are you saying, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked when she offered no further explanation.
She began to laugh. “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I will marry you!”
Chapter Eight
Elizabeth returned home with little thought for the events that had caused her to flee. Barely an hour had passed but it felt like far longer after everything that had happened since then. She could not believe that Darcy had proposed, though she reminded herself continuously that it was hardly a regular proposal. Though she supposed it was, in a sense—it was a mutually agreeable arrangement that was devoid of love. She tended to agree with Darcy the more she thought about it—what were the changes of finding love anyway?
A tiny, niggling voice told her that she ought not settle for a loveless marriage, but she silenced it. After everything that had happened, she was inclined to believe that Darcy’s proposal might just be the most attractive one she would ever receive.
First Comes Marriage: A Darcy & Elizabeth Pride & Prejudice Variation Page 3
