Meant to Be: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Andreea Catana

  Mr. Darcy turned his head to encounter her serene face as she continued to dance silently. “And what would you recommend for someone who cannot do such a thing?”

  “That they pity themselves. For they are in danger of becoming foolish because of it.”

  The effect was immediate, and Mr. Darcy’s countenance became serious again as if he had been wounded. Elizabeth blamed herself for speaking her opinion so decisively and turned her gaze to the rest of the room to reduce the uneasiness between them. What she saw alarmed her: both Mr. Collins and her ladyship were observing them closely, and she could not be sure for how long.

  Finding herself the centre of their curiosity, Elizabeth made a misstep to her right instead of left, nearly leaving the set. But she felt Mr. Darcy’s hand upon hers once again as he pulled her gently back into the set, directing her towards the centre and making her mistake barely noticeable. Elizabeth looked at him with gratitude and embarrassment but found Mr. Darcy rather lost in his thoughts. His gaze was fixed in front of him on invisible territory that she was not allowed to enter.

  When the set ended, Mr. Darcy bowed politely and escorted Elizabeth back to Charlotte.

  ***

  Elizabeth had no partner for the following set, so she took the opportunity to observe the guests in peace, enjoying a cup of tea. Charlotte was engaged in conversation while Mr. Collins never moved more than a few feet from Lady Catherine—who occasionally graced him with a word or glance. Miss Maxwell danced, but her attention seemed to be focused on Mr. Darcy, who was having a drink and talking absently with other gentlemen. Several times, he seemed to look in Elizabeth’s direction and their eyes occasionally met briefly. Conversation was animated, the music loud, and the exercise of the crowd heated the room.

  As though guessing her thoughts, Charlotte approached Elizabeth and sat next to her, whispering, “It is exceedingly hot in here, would you not agree, Lizzy?”

  “Indeed. Perhaps some fresh air would help.” Elizabeth was equally in need of a change of thoughts.

  They made it to the entrance of the hall then to the shrubbery, where they sat on a small bench. The night was dark with only a few stars visible. They admired the sky for some time until Charlotte spoke again.

  “I feel so much better, Lizzy. I have no idea how Lady Catherine manages to survive in such a gown, but it is awful. I can hardly breathe.”

  “You should have known better than to accept a gown that was not yours, dear Charlotte. Now you have to bear the consequences.” Elizabeth laughed, and her friend joined her.

  “If I refused, I would not have heard the end of it for months from both my husband and her ladyship. So a night of distress is preferred to months of argument.”

  A few moments later, Elizabeth turned at the sound of approaching voices; perhaps, someone else was seeking a spot where they could rest, just as she and Charlotte had done. The voices gradually grew clearer and drew her attention, and she recognized that they belonged to Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  “Come on, Darcy. You have no reason to worry.”

  “I should be at Pemberley, not entertaining guests at this pointless ball and answering rude questions about my family.”

  “It was expected that you would be asked about Georgiana. And I have to say, nobody was rude. Besides, you know very well that the questions about Georgiana are only meant to draw your attention. You are the true prey,” the colonel continued, his voice carrying laughter.

  “Surely, you cannot imagine that I would be amused by such a joke.” Mr. Darcy’s voice sounded severe and reproachful.

  “Forgive me, Darcy; I only meant to improve your mood. I understand your worry, but I see no reason for it. Georgiana will be fine, I am sure. Time will dissipate any remaining distress.”

  “I hope you are right…but I do need to worry. She writes so little in her letters—barely half a page.”

  “It is sufficient for now! Come, Cousin; I would wager that you will find more encouraging letters from her in London.”

  “I certainly hope so. I shall feel better when I actually read them or when I can see my sister again and assure myself that she is not upset with me—that she does not blame me.”

  Upon realizing that their discussion was meant to be private, Elizabeth wished she and Charlotte had not heard it, and even more so, that they not be discovered. She took Charlotte’s hand and motioned to her friend to remain still. It was clear that the gentlemen were speaking of a matter of concern to both of them regarding Miss Darcy, and they wished to keep it secret. For an instant, she wondered whether she should make her presence known, perhaps by gentle coughing.

  But it was already too late as the colonel continued. “I am sure you are as far from the truth as you can be. She is just confused and probably hurt, tormented. But she does trust you and would not blame you unfairly.”

  “I cannot stop wondering whether she is safe. I know she is with her companion and a large staff of servants, but it was the same before, and still she was in danger…”

  “Things are different now, Darcy. Georgiana is safe at home, and she is beyond harm from that wretched man.”

  “I hope everything will pass soon; such a nightmare should not be shared with anyone. I do not think she could bear it if anyone knew of this situation.”

  Elizabeth heard a deep sigh from Darcy that spoke of the pain he was suffering.

  “No one knows what happened, Darcy. And no one will ever know.”

  “If only I could be certain of that.”

  “You can be; you have done your best to prevent a catastrophe. Come now, Darcy. Try to cheer yourself or allow me to do it. Let us return to the ball before our aunt decides to chase us. I shall find you a handsome lady you can dance with.” The colonel’s voice sounded lighter, and the answer came with a tone that struggled to be amused.

  “There is no lady handsome enough to tempt me from my worries and no ball inviting enough to induce me into more than two sets.”

  Elizabeth could hardly hold her laughter inside, hearing Mr. Darcy give such an answer. She turned towards Charlotte and suddenly froze: her friend’s face went red from the effort to contain in a tickle in her throat brought on by the cold air. Elizabeth panicked, and rightfully so, as Charlotte coughed violently. Elizabeth closed her eyes, cold fingers of embarrassment shaking her more than the chill air. She closed her eyes, waiting for the disaster to come.

  “I am sorry, Lizzy,” Charlotte whispered as she tried to silence her coughs.

  Elizabeth opened her eyes and stood up, coming face to face with Mr. Darcy’s astounded countenance. His eyes narrowed in anger; he frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but only a grimace appeared on his lips. His handsome features were twisted in fury.

  “Miss Bennet!” he finally spoke between clenched teeth. Charlotte stood up, leaned against Elizabeth, and then sat again, her hand holding Elizabeth’s tightly. Darcy’s heavy gaze fixed on Elizabeth, the blue of his eyes now dark and cloudy. The disturbance of his mind was more than evident while, from behind him, Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed only surprised and greeted the ladies with relative composure.

  “Mr. Darcy…I am…we are…“ Elizabeth’s words were not strong enough to be heard.

  Darcy said in a less than tranquil tone of voice, “Miss Bennet…Mrs. Collins…what a surprise to see you here. I did not expect any lady to wander outside in the middle of the night at the risk of catching a cold or any other unpleasant consequence.”

  Elizabeth felt the sharp bite of his reproach. “Mrs. Collins and I were in need of fresh air…we only came out for a few moments…” Her voice trembled a little as she struggled for words. She strove to remain composed, ready to strengthen what she had spoken earlier. She was not at fault, and thus should not be reprimanded.

  “Well, I hope our conversation did not disturb your solitude,” he said sharply in an obvious attempt to determine how much they had heard. “Or perhaps listening to private discussions is a new means to amu
se yourself? We already know of your inclination to laugh at the expense of others,” he continued contemptuously without giving Elizabeth a chance to speak.

  She felt her anger growing with the injustice of his ungentlemanlike reproach, but she remained calm. At last, she responded with determination.

  “Mr. Darcy, you have succeeded in offending me, and you have accused me unfairly. It was an accident—a most unfortunate one that gave me no pleasure—that we happened to be here at the same time. I shall be careful to avoid being within your sight for as long as I remain in Kent, so such a disagreeable event will never occur again. Now, allow us to retire; we have said enough, and any word on the subject would only bring further serious embarrassment which I have no ability to laugh off.”

  The astonishment on Mr. Darcy’s face was apparent. His expression changed, and his eyes seemed to sparkle strangely. But Elizabeth took not a moment more to consider it. Tears of anger were burning her eyes, and she turned her back, hurrying inside. She heard Charlotte apologizing and following her while Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke to his cousin.

  “Darcy, what on earth has come over you? Have you lost your mind…?”

  Any further conversation was covered by the swell of music and the din of voices.

  Elizabeth’s turmoil made her heart race wildly, and she covertly wiped her eyes, careful that her torment not be obvious to others.

  “Lizzy, please stop!” Charlotte pleaded once they were at the entrance. “I cannot move that fast.” Elizabeth paused, trying to regain her steady breathing.

  “Do you know who they were talking about?’ Charlotte asked. “They were speaking of Miss Darcy. I wonder what is wrong that makes Mr. Darcy so worried about her.”

  “Charlotte, I shall not think of this matter any longer, and you should not either. We happened upon a private conversation that should immediately be forgotten and never mentioned again. I could not care less who Mr. Darcy was speaking about—and I have no interest to know anything about his worries ever again. We should have a cup of tea—and I believe I am expected to dance with Lord Hastings.”

  The rest of the ball was the most distressing time Elizabeth could remember in her life. She was forced to keep her composure to comply with her dancing engagements; between dances, she retired to a corner. She spoke with Charlotte about everything except the overheard conversation, and she avoided any interaction with either the colonel or Darcy.

  One time, the colonel even moved towards her, but she turned her back and spoke with another lady guest. The colonel understood her message and elegantly retired. However, she noticed both cousins glancing at her from time to time, but she was successful in averting her eyes in time. After a while, Mr. Darcy was nowhere to be seen, and Elizabeth felt relieved.

  The end of the night came as a blessed relief for Elizabeth. The farewells were made quickly, as Lady Catherine was displeased about something and seemed not to be in a disposition to properly entertain guests of such low consequence.

  In the carriage, Mr. Collins praised the ball, the guests, Lady Catherine, and Miss de Bourgh. He also expressed his surprise that his fair cousin Elizabeth had danced every set, including one with Mr. Darcy himself, an incident that—he underlined—was unexpected and raised wonder and concern from her ladyship.

  “You must not worry, Mr. Collins—nor should Lady Catherine. Such an event will never happen again. In fact, I hope not to be in Mr. Darcy’s company again before I return home. This ball was more than enough.”

  Mr. Collins was intrigued and prepared to inquire further, but fortunately, the carriage stopped in front of the parsonage. Before she retired to her bedchamber, Elizabeth announced to her cousin that she had decided to return to Hertfordshire by the end of the week.

  Chapter Seven

  In the early morning, Elizabeth’s need to leave Hunsford was stronger than before. She had not slept more than a couple of restless hours, and dawn found her restless and tormented. The offense so undeservingly bestowed upon her by Darcy was excessively troubling. The revelation that he had such a poor opinion of her was painful, and she could not understand why. He used her own words to mock and accuse her. This could not be forgiven or forgotten.

  Of course, that was of little importance. He surely did not care about her forgiveness—just as she should not care about his opinion. And yet, she did. The knowledge that she soon would leave Kent brought her some relief.

  She could not bear the thought that she might see him again, even by accident. The notion of speaking of the matter again was dreadful. Yes, he seemed to be greatly troubled by something regarding his sister—something that affected Miss Darcy’s security and made him worry for her well-being. Yes, it seemed to be a secret that both he and his cousin struggled to keep from everyone, including their aunt. Yes, it was unfortunate that she—and Charlotte, whose confidence she did know whether she could trust—happened to hear the entire conversation. But she had no fault in any of the things that Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam attempted to hide. She was scarcely able to understand the nature of the peril to Mr. Darcy’s sister that required such secrecy.

  Perhaps, she should have made her presence known the moment she heard voices—no matter to whom they belonged. But it was done, and she could not accept the entire blame. He should have been more careful of his surroundings too.

  She would never see him again; she was well aware of that. Then why did the matter raise such turmoil inside of her? Why could she not put the subject aside and pack her luggage? Her visit to Hunsford would end soon, just as her new acquaintance with Mr. Darcy—surely one of the most unpleasant, arrogant, and haughty gentlemen she had ever met! Elizabeth felt her anger growing, mainly at herself for having seen this man in a more favourable light than he deserved. “I guess I needed this to learn not to be impressed by fine eyes, no matter their colour!”

  When she was invited for breakfast, she reluctantly accepted. She was tempted to refuse, but the notion that she would have to explain the reason to Mr. Collins was even more unpleasant. So she went, and they had their meal in absolute silence. Mr. Collins watched Elizabeth and his wife in turn, trying to have a conversation. After a couple of questions that were barely unanswered, he desisted, deciding it was better to go Rosings in case Lady Catherine might need him.

  When he returned home time later, he carried with him the most surprising piece of information. Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had left Rosings quite unexpectedly.

  The news came as a shock. He surely left to avoid her. Of course, he had neither interest in nor a wish to speak to her again. That was expected, of course. “His good opinion once lost…” His departure gave her the relief of knowing she would not have to confront him again, nor would she have to face any awkward moments in his company.

  Mr. Darcy’s leaving is probably the best thing that could happen. I would not want to see him, even if he had remained here.

  She should be relieved. No matter the reason for his hasty leaving, she should consider it fortunate. She should feel at ease, having to bear less torment for her remaining time in Kent.

  But strangely, the thought became increasingly difficult to bear. A sudden burden pressed on her chest, taking her breath away. He was gone, she realized, while cold shivers travelled down her spin and her heart began to race.

  He had left, and she would not see him again. Ever.

  ***

  A couple of days later, Elizabeth left Hunsford earlier than had planned, despite her friend and cousin’s opposition. The journey home was longer than Elizabeth remembered. She had decided to travel by post against Mr. Collins’s insistence that she wait for a better opportunity. Even though she knew that Mr. Darcy was no longer there, her distress did not diminish. The surroundings seemed to tug at her memory in such a powerful way that it frightened her. His image kept her awake at night and troubled her during the day, and she could bear it no longer.

  She parted from Charlotte with warm embraces, not forgetting to thank Mr.
Collins for his attention.

  The fifty miles home seemed to take an eternity. She fell asleep in the coach more than once. Her sleep, however, was full of Mr. Darcy’s presence; she imagined him racing his horse to find her and reprimanding her further for her unladylike behaviour. Each time the carriage stopped—to rest the horses or take on another traveller—Elizabeth startled and looked outside to spot a familiar face and a pair of blue eyes that never appeared.

  However, the violence of her affliction would not last forever, and several hours later, Elizabeth fell into a melancholy that accompanied her until she reached Meryton. She went to the Philipses’ house, and her aunt was quite shocked to see her. Elizabeth was forced to stay a few minutes, have some tea, and inform Aunt Philips about the marriage of Charlotte Lucas and the comfort of her new house as well as the grandeur of Rosings Park. Finally, her aunt offered her the carriage to take her to Longbourn. She would have preferred to walk, but the presence of her two pieces of baggage made the task impossible, so she gratefully accepted. She had announced to no one in her family that she would be coming, and she was sure that her appearance would be met with many inquiries and no little reproach from her mother.

  Elizabeth was right. When the carriage arrived at Longbourn, her return created a tumult.

  “Mama, Mama…Elizabeth has returned!” Lydia cried upon seeing her sister descend from the small phaeton.

  “Lizzy?!” Mrs. Bennet was heard to shout from the drawing room in surprise. An endless stream of questions followed: “Why did she come home so soon? How did she come?” Then louder: “How did you come, Lizzy? Are you well? Is that my sister’s carriage? How did you get from Kent to Meryton? Surely, you did not travel by post! Oh, dear Lord—that child—my nerves! Come here! Mr. Bennet! Come and see what your favourite daughter has done! Are you pleased? It is your fault that she is so wild and disobedient!”

  Mr. Bennet made his presence known a moment later, a welcoming smile on his face for Elizabeth and the sight she needed most. Elizabeth embraced her mother and assured her everything was fine; then she rested a moment in her father’s arms, overwhelmed by emotions that she knew to be more than the happiness of returning home.