Darcy's Charade

by Meghan Parrish

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter One

  Elizabeth Bennet gazed out of the window at the falling rain. It reminded her of teardrops, which in turn made her think of her own desire to cry. She should have known that her mother would try to force her to marry now that her father had died.

  Only this morning, Mrs. Bennet had informed her daughter that she intended for Elizabeth to wed her cousin, Mr. Collins, in the near future. Elizabeth ought not to have been shocked by the news, but she was.

  She remembered how, after her father's death, she had been nervous about her future and that of her four sisters. She heard the neighbors mentioning the poorhouse and charity before the funeral. She had not fully understood what that meant, but from the way they had spoken in low hushed voices, convinced that Elizabeth could not overhear them, it had sounded dreadful.

  Then Mr. Collins had taken charge of their family home, Longbourn. Elizabeth's fears about the future intensified.

  She was so happy when her father was alive. What a pity it could not last!

  But, unfortunately, Mr. Bennet had died in a carriage accident leaving a grief-stricken widow.

  Mrs. Bennet was inconsolable. Her misery had been intense. She could not mention her husband's name without tears brimming in her eyes. The depth of her despair had been mirrored in her wardrobe. Every single colored item of clothing had been swept aside. Black dominated her gowns, her shoes, her gloves, her hats, her fans—even the curtains in her bedchamber and the counterpane on her bed.

  Elizabeth grimaced. She should have known that black became her mother too well. She should have seen the danger!

  But how could she have guessed? How could anyone have predicted? After all, Elizabeth had met Mr. Collins at her late father's funeral. Hardly the most romantic of occasions.

  Then Mr. Collins had been helpful in arranging matters regarding the estate of Longbourn. Surprisingly, everyone considered him to be courteous and chivalrous. No one had wondered if he had an ulterior motive. As a man of the church, perhaps he had felt an obligation, a debt of honor.

  Then, gradually and imperceptibly, Mr. Collins had insinuated himself into Mrs. Bennet's good graces. Mrs. Bennet began to lean on him. She turned to him for advice and depended on him when she had a problem. She introduced him as a close family member at social gatherings.

  She should have known what was coming. Oh, fool that I was! Elizabeth told herself.

  But even if she had recognized the signs, Elizabeth could not have foreseen all the consequences. She had been made to feel so welcome that it never occurred to her to doubt that her position here at Longbourn was anything but secure.

  Elizabeth glanced out the window again. The sky was every bit as gray and dismal looking as it had been five minutes ago. Lowering clouds threatened to crush everything beneath their miserable weight.

  What an idiot I have been! Elizabeth scolded herself.

  Until today, she had assumed she could continue to live in this house with her mother and sisters. She had not realized that now that her father was dead, and now that Lydia and Kitty were out in society, things had changed.

  Now, Elizabeth faced the truth. At one and twenty, she was a poor relation, a young lady without the necessary social attributes of either money or a title. She was an encumbrance, a female without qualification who had been generously supported by her dutiful parents for some years but who had outstayed her welcome.

  She was expected to marry, she mused, and to leave Longbourn at once.

  Until then, she had not thought much about matrimony.

  Her sisters were different, she reflected. They could hardly wait to become brides. But Elizabeth did not want to marry. Certainly not immediately. Certainly not to the first man who offered for her and said he was willing to overlook the fact that she had no dowry. Only the deepest love could persuade her into matrimony.

  Elizabeth shivered. It wasn't only the biting November wind which was getting through to her. Though she was aware of the fact that her father had died a bankrupt, thus failing to provide her with a dowry, it had not previously worried her. She had assumed that she would stay on at Longbourn until miraculously funds would appear which would enable her to wed the man of her choice.

  But events had overtaken Elizabeth. She and Mr. Collins had become betrothed.

  "When the Gardiners come to visit for Christmas we'll tell them the good news," Mrs. Bennet had stated earlier that day. "That will give them time to get used to the idea and to get to know Mr. Collins better before you actually become man and wife."

  "And when..." Elizabeth had managed to gasp, "when will that be?"

  "Sometime during the spring," Mrs. Bennet had responded. "Then your aunt and uncle can be here for the wedding, and it won't interfere with their plans to travel to the lake district this summer."

  "Yes..." Elizabeth had stuttered. "I... see..."

  As soon as she recollected that conversation, Elizabeth frowned. She had to go. And quickly. She was to be got rid of. Found a new home as though she were a stray cat who was not really wanted.

  Elizabeth shuddered as she recalled how the prospect of her forthcoming state of wedded bliss had been put to her. Mrs. Bennet had been tactless, but in a situation like this, there was no polite reassuring civilized way of saying "either you get married or you get out."

  Every word of their discussion was branded in Elizabeth's memory.

  "Lizzy dear," Mrs. Bennet had begun. "How old are you?"

  "One and twenty," Elizabeth had replied proudly. "Nearly two and twenty, Mama."

  "Two and twenty!" Mrs. Bennet had exclaimed. "Two and twenty and unmarried! Tsk. Tsk. Tsk!"

  "It's not that bad, surely, is it, Mama?"

  "I was married younger than you."

  "Yes, Mama."

  Elizabeth had to bite her tongue to stop herself from reminding her mother what a fuss she had made about how young a bride she was—too young to know her own mind—far too young to wed a tradesman.

  "It's a shame you have no dowry Lizzy," Mrs. Bennet had remarked.

  Elizabeth had winced. "Yes, Mama," she had murmured, "and I am grateful to you—for having provided for me."

  Mrs. Bennet had nodded in assent, acquiescing to the compliment as her rightful due.

  "I have tried to do my best," she had stated.

  "Yes, Mama," Elizabeth had agreed.

  "But you know that my circumstances since poor dear Mr. Bennet's death," Mrs. Bennet had continued, "have not been what they were while he was alive."

  "Yes, Mama."

  Elizabeth was well aware that the money had not been flowing as freely as it had done during her father's lifetime. Naturally Mrs. Bennet was not destitute, but since Mr. Bennet had passed on so suddenly...well there had to be certain economies. And that meant thrift was to be exercised as far as Elizabeth was concerned.

  Mrs. Bennet sighed. Elizabeth knew her mother well enough to be able to interpret that sigh.

  "What a pity you are not ravishingly beautiful like your sister Jane! So that men would forget that you are untitled and dowerless!"

  Elizabeth grounded her teeth. She was not ashamed o
f her looks and she resented her mother's hints that they were somehow inferior.

  Unfortunately, Mrs. Bennet considered only tall, willowy, blue-eyed blondes to be beautiful. In consequence, Elizabeth and her middle sister Mary, both of whom were small and dark-haired, were a disappointment to her.

  There was, however, no point in arguing about it. Mrs. Bennet's notion of beauty was not so very different from that of her contemporaries. That was the pity of it!

  Elizabeth knew that her lack of what was conventionally regarded as good looks was a drawback. She was not surrounded by so many gentleman that she could pick and choose when it came to finding a husband. Indeed, there was no one in particular whom she could marry at a moment's notice. No one except...

  "You like Mr. Collins, don't you?" Mrs. Bennet had questioned suddenly.

  "I've never known a stupider person, Mama," Elizabeth had replied incautiously.

  And then it had come.

  Mrs. Bennet had smiled and preened herself.

  "Mr. Collins dropped in to speak to me earlier this morning while you were in town," she had stated. "He wanted to know if he might come here this afternoon to properly ask for your hand in marriage."

  "What!" Elizabeth had cried.

  Elizabeth had never regarded her cousin as anyone other than an embarrassing relative, someone with whom she would avoid all conversation at a party. The idea of Mr. Collins as her suitor had never crossed her mind.

  "You heard me, Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet had declared. "Mr. Collins is coming here this afternoon to ask for your hand in marriage. I have given him my permission to speak to you, and..."

  "Mama! How could you!"

  "And in view of your attitude," Mrs. Bennet had gone on, "I feel I should say here and now that you ought to accept him."

  Elizabeth had gone suddenly faint. It wasn't the words alone. It was the finality with which they were uttered. Her face had drained of color and she had swayed. Only her swiftness in gripping onto the table beside her had stopped her from falling to the ground.

  Chapter Two

  So there she was, standing in the sitting room of Longbourn, gazing out at the ceaseless rain pondering her position while she waited for Mr. Collins to enter and propose to her.

  Elizabeth shuddered. Mr. Collins wasn't a bad man per se, but he was definitely not the right husband for her.

  What am I going to do? She wondered.

  It was obvious that Mrs. Bennet expected her to say yes. But should she?

  Elizabeth pursed her lips. Her mother must have been planning this for a time. She had, without a doubt, searched diligently for a man who was willing to "take Lizzy on” and Mr. Collins was the best she had been able to do for her in her unfortunate circumstances.

  Although no one had been so crass as to say so, Elizabeth knew that she had no choice. Her smile turned down. Had she been dealing with her father she could have thrown herself on his mercy. From him she would have obtained a respite, a chance to find herself a spouse who was, in her view, more suitable. But she couldn't do that with Mrs. Bennet or Mr. Collins.

  She gripped her hands tightly. Neither Mr. Collins nor Mrs. Bennet were monstrous people. They had their standards, albeit unimaginative and stifling ones.

  Elizabeth grimaced. To give them their due, they had at least found her a man who was reasonable well off despite being so unpleasant to be with. Mr. Collins was older than Elizabeth but as a clergyman he was a respected member of the community where his parish resided in Hunsford.

  But she could never be happy with him. And yet what could she do? Mr. Collins would be here any minute now to pop the question...

  ...and if she said no, Elizabeth began to ruminate.

  She could picture the scene. Her mother would be furious. What would trouble her most was other people's attitudes. Society frowned upon a household of five single daughters not being suitably provided for in the way of husbands. Thus, if Elizabeth refused to marry before the summer, Mrs. Bennet would draw on herself the wrath of the social world.

  Elizabeth could understand her mother's impatience. Mrs. Bennet was still young enough to remarry, but she was not getting any younger. She would not want to wait longer than was conventionally necessary if she decided to take a second husband. Widows typically did not remarry unless they had seen at least one daughter settled in matrimony.

  What am I to do? Elizabeth wondered yet again.

  Just then there was a knock at the door. The suddenness of it caused Elizabeth to jump and turn inwards away from the window.

  "Come in!" she called.

  The door opened and Mr. Collins entered.

  "Good afternoon, Mr. Collins," Elizabeth greeted him.

  Privately she noted what an unprepossessing man he was; neither handsome nor ugly, neither elaborately nor simply dressed. His position in life was not either awe-inspiring or embarrassingly low.

  Mr. Collins smiled at her. "Good afternoon, Miss Bennet," he responded. He bowed and took her hand. "Your mother assured me that she would inform you as to why I have come."

  "She...she has done so," Elizabeth replied awkwardly.

  Mr. Collins nodded with satisfaction.

  "Miss Bennet," he proposed, "will you do me the very great honor of bestowing on me your hand in marriage?"

  Elizabeth took a deep breath. It was beautifully put considering the silly man speaking the words. He did not treat her like a poor relation in that moment, and her heart warmed towards him for that. For a split second she was tempted to consent. But before she could do so, a voice inside her spoke and told her that would be wrong.

  "Mr. Collins," she answered. "although I am deeply honored by your offer, I cannot accept it."

  "Why not?" Mr. Collins inquired.

  "I do not love you."

  Mr. Collins was not unduly upset.

  "Perhaps you will come to love me in time," he suggested.

  Elizabeth shook her head in negation. She hardly respected or liked him. She knew she would never love him.

  "No. No," she insisted quietly. "I can never love you."

  "I understand," Mr. Collins interrupted. "This has come as a shock to you. You need a while to consider it. I can see that. I shall be patient."

  A worried frown formed between Elizabeth's eyes. She had the distinct impression that she was not getting through to him. She had half a mind to be blunt and tell him flat out that she would not marry him if he were the last man on earth. On the other hand, he had done nothing to deserve such a cruel set down.

  "Mr. Collins, I don't think that would be wise," she prevaricated. "I am very certain of my feelings regarding you."

  Mr. Collins smiled indulgently. "I was your age once," he said. "I, too, was sure of my feelings regarding many things then. I was wrong about nearly all of them. Let us wait a bit."

  "Mr. Collins," Elizabeth protested. "I warn you, I shall not change in this respect."

  Mr. Collins was not perturbed. "Yes," he agreed, "you have warned me. However I have decided to live in hope that you will change your mind."

  "I see," Elizabeth murmured.

  There was nothing she could do about that. She had turned him down, but he did not choose to believe her. Well, that was his affair. She curtseyed in response to his bow and watched uneasily as he departed.

  Scarcely a minute later, Mrs. Bennet and Jane burst in on her.

  "When is it to be?" Mrs. Bennet demanded.

  "When is what to be?" Elizabeth countered.

  "Your wedding, of course," Mrs. Bennet returned.

  Elizabeth's eyebrows rose questioningly.

  Jane cleared her throat. "What happened between you and Mr. Collins?" she inquired.

  "Nothing," Elizabeth answered innocently.

  "Didn't he ask you to marry him?" Mrs. Bennet wanted to know.

  "Yes he did," Elizabeth replied.

  Mrs. Bennet heaved a sigh of relief. "Heavens! What a fright you gave me! I thought he had changed his mind!" she declared. "And you accepted, d
idn't you?"

  "No," Elizabeth informed her. "I refused him."

  "Oh Lizzy!" Jane exclaimed.

  "I said no to him," Elizabeth stated. "I told him that I was honored by his proposal but that I could not consent to becoming his wife."

  "What do you mean?" Mrs. Bennet whispered faintly. "Whyever not?"

  "Because I do not love him," Elizabeth explained, "and I cannot marry without love."

  There was a shocked silence, then Mrs. Bennet found her voice.

  "Nonsense!" she shouted. "Absolute rubbish! Of course you must marry Mr. Collins! I shall inform him that you have changed your mind!"

  The color drained from Elizabeth's cheeks.

  "You will do nothing of the kind!" she cried imperiously. "I have said no to him and you will have the goodness to respect my right to do so!"

  Mrs. Bennet was taken aback by her fury. "Lizzy dear," she remarked evenly. "That was not very nice."

  Elizabeth glared at her mother. "Mr. Collins has accepted my refusal," she returned loftily, "and he will honor it if he wishes me to look on him as gentlemen!"

  Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips. "I see," she mumbled. Trembling with rage, she excused Jane from the room, slamming the door to the drawing room behind her as she went.

  Elizabeth flinched as she heard her mother take out her annoyance on the unoffending portals. She knew that Mrs. Bennet was going to speak to her about the way she had refused Mr. Collins, and just then she could not face one of her mother's unending lectures.

  "I am sorry, Mama. I have a splitting headache. Please forgive me. I must lie down at once," she blurted out quickly and fled.

  Chapter Three

  When Elizabeth came down from her bedchamber later that evening she was astonished to find her mother in an excellent humor.

  "I'm so glad you're wearing that pretty dress, dear," she commented when she caught sight of her daughter. "I always liked it."

  "Thank you, Mama," Elizabeth responded.

  "By the way, Mr. Collins is joining us for dinner."

  "Oh?" Elizabeth queried.

  "Didn't I mention it?" Mrs. Bennet questioned.

  "No," Elizabeth replied.