To Capture Mr. Darcy, a Pride and Prejudice Variation Novel

by Elizabeth Ann West

  “No, she cannot embarrass me. That parson was put up to his outrageous claims and you are the instigator. I know he could not have such an original thought as that disgusting display of parlor tricks. A ripped sleeve was your favorite ploy against my mother when she received too much attention and you not enough.”

  “Hush, boy, you know nothing. This is not about ripped sleeves. This is about substance. This is about progeny. Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted by this pitiful girl? She cannot rise to the task and she knows it. And I am willing to wager she loves you enough to avoid through such rejection and fall from grace. And this family? The youngest ignores church on a weekly basis and the second one closest in age was caught alone with an officer!”

  “No, she was not. That is a lie!” Elizabeth grew defensive as the insulting woman attacked her family.

  “I suppose your mother’s effusions about another of her daughters to be matched with a Denny something or other person was false? Add a lying mother to the list of wonderful examples the Bennet family might boast.”

  “Careful, madam, you speak of my wife in that viper’s tongue of yours.” Mr. Bennet arrived and Elizabeth suddenly felt relieved, rushing to her father’s side for comfort. Mr. Bennet cradled his favorite daughter and squeezed her arm. “Mr. Collins shall pack his things come morning and remove himself from our household. It was inexcusable for him to harm the person of one of my daughters.”

  “Papa, I wish to go home.”

  “Yes, run away Elizabeth Bennet. A delicate rose such as yourself will never survive the thorns of London. Before you can call for a father’s protection, your petals will all be plucked, leaving your true self bare and found lacking.”

  “You are a cruel old woman who will die alone and unloved.” Elizabeth finally allowed her temper free as her father ushered her from of the library and toward the carriage he already called, anticipating Elizabeth would not be able to return to the ballroom without causing an even greater scene. Despite wishing to congratulate her for defending her own honor, the realities of her display were not removed, and the ball was for Jane. He could not sacrifice one daughter for another’s perceived misdeeds.

  Elizabeth remained quiet as she allowed her father to the carriage that would take her home and return to Netherfield Park later for the remainder of her family. To her surprise, Mary was waiting in the carriage.

  “You are leaving the ball as well? But I thought—” Elizabeth was interrupted by Mary pulling her into a tight embrace.

  “He bragged about ruining your gown! That man is evil and should not be a servant of our Lord. When I heard father was calling you a carriage, I asked him if I might accompany you.”

  Elizabeth began to cry as she relived the horrid scene that utterly ruined her perfectly planned evening. But for her sister Mary to support her once more, Elizabeth was eternally grateful.

  “Thank you, Mary. You are the very best.”

  As Mr. Bennet watched the carriage roll away, Mr. Darcy called after him.

  “Please, my aunt, I cannot excuse her behavior. But she is wrong. Elizabeth will make me a fine wife. I must speak to her!”

  While Mr. Bennet appreciated the desperate young man’s position, there was nothing he could do. “Son, you are not in a position to say anything she will want to hear after tonight’s events, and if you push the issue, even should she accept you, it will not be a pleasant memory for either of you.”

  “You do not understand! She must hate me, I did nothing! I barely spoke against my aunt before you arrived though I did attempt to stop her.”

  Mr. Bennet laughed. “Mr. Darcy, you may not be accustomed to hearing this expressed in such a blunt fashion, but the world does not rest upon your shoulders. Trust my years of extensive dealings with women. You allow them their say, their sulk, and then you reason with them. Consider the modes of control you wield against your aunt and deploy them. Then worry about how you will convince Elizabeth to disagree with your aunt’s sentiments. Now, excuse me as I have three other daughters I must see to.” Mr. Bennet patted Mr. Darcy’s upper arm in solidarity, but left the man to his thoughts.

  As the Bennet carriage could scarcely be seen far off in the distance under the moonlight, Fitzwilliam Darcy reflected on Mr. Bennet’s words and once again found the man to be more of a deliberate actor than a lazy misanthrope. Glancing up at the moon’s brightness, he sighed as his heart ached to be with Elizabeth. But as he decided he would return to the ball he was so loath to participate in for Bingley’s sake, his aunt would soon find she forgot her nephew held the ability to freeze her accounts when she appointed him, the executor of the Rosings estate.

  Twelve

  November 27, 1811

  Having returned early from the ball, Elizabeth enjoyed more rest than the majority of her family. She rose early as was her custom and dressed for a walk. The toll of so many tears the night before made her eyes sting. She washed her face with the cold water in the basin and pulled her hair up into a tight knot.

  The stairs creaked under her weight as she entered the dining room to find Mr. Collins there, alone. Slanting her eyes at the man, she stopped short of her goal of the back kitchen to leave as he stood too close to the far door.

  “You have awakened. Good, good. I had hoped to make my address to you in private.”

  Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  “There are no addresses you may make that I shall accept. You are to pack your things and leave my father’s house. He said so, himself.”

  “It is my house as soon as he dies. Or did you forget I am to inherit all that you have believed yours?”

  Elizabeth blinked and pursed her lips. It was a despicable vulgarity to wish death upon another for your own inheritance. Mary was not wrong to call Mr. Collins greedy, and Elizabeth began to wish for an even worse word. Glutton came to mind.

  “You do not forget I see. So you can appreciate why I am offering you one last chance. Stop this chasing of a man far beyond your stars and consider my hand in marriage. You would be mistress of your childhood home and our sons would grow and thrive on the very same fields you run to for sanctuary every morning.”

  A wave of nausea clenched Elizabeth’s empty stomach over the mere mention of bearing Mr. Collins’s children.

  “I cannot stand the sight of you. And I shall never marry you, either. Nor will any of my sisters after the display of bullying you put on last night.” Elizabeth began to wonder if she should shout for her father, but knew the man did not get much sleep at all last night judging by the late hour in which Elizabeth awakened from the rest of the family returning home.

  “And should your father die today, I can throw you out, tomorrow.”

  “Is that a threat?” Elizabeth began to wonder what villain the mere chance of relation allowed into their household.

  “Of course not! But you must see reason. The Bingley fellow will not save the family and Mr. Darcy is never going to offer for you. Certainly not after last night.” Mr. Collins appeared so sure of himself, so confident, that Elizabeth began to find the man absurd! And absurd people made her laugh.

  “Mr. Collins, that you happen to be my cousin through a distant relation on my father’s side means nothing to me. I would more confidently trust in Mr. Bingley’s care for our well being should we lose my father. Even if one of my sisters had accepted your suit, you are not guaranteed to this living. Why, you might shuffle off this mortal coil today as you move your things to Lucas Lodge.”

  “Is that a threat?” Mr. Collins’s eyes opened wide, suddenly becoming rather unsettled by the flat tone of his cousin.

  “Only you ought to watch your behavior regarding my friend, Charlotte. Her brothers John and Edward would sooner thrash you than ever allow any man to disrespect their sister.”

  Mr. Collins nodded sagely as he remembered the much larger physique of Miss Lucas’s brothers.

  Elizabeth could no longer endure the worthless man in front of her and
still felt he suffered no consequence for his actions the night before. No longer caring about sneaking a carelessly placed pastry by Cook on her way out, Elizabeth turned around and sought escape through the front door. Her cousin called after her, but Elizabeth needed air. She needed space. And she needed Mr. Darcy, but would settle for acquiring those needs that were within her grasp.

  As the morning dew remained sparkling on the brown grass in a glittering contrast to Nature’s fading all around her, Elizabeth blew out a breath and watched the puff appear and dissipate before her. Dressed warmly for the weather, Elizabeth broke out into a run as soon as she reached the bend in the lane and headed for her favorite place in all the world.

  The sun’s morning performance was nearly completed as most of its girth lay above the horizon when Elizabeth’s final footsteps took her to the pinnacle of Oakham Mount. Instead of her favorite rock awaiting her return for calm reflection, another’s slumped form sat with his back to her.

  Approaching carefully, Elizabeth smiled at the slumbering form of Mr. Darcy, leaning his head against his hands, resting upon his knees. Giggling, she gently jostled him awake and the poor man called out her name.

  “Elizabeth!”

  “Tis all right, I am here.”

  Darcy alighted from the rock and smoothed his hands upon the same breeches he had worn at the ball the night before. Elizabeth noticed his cravat was askew and a small growth of stubble had formed on his chin to impart a ruggedness of his masculinity she had heretofore never seen in a man of her acquaintance. A man she thought of often and deliberately.

  Catching her spying his unkempt appearance, Darcy looked down at his own clothing feeling mightily embarrassed he did not listen to Arnold before bursting out of the house at first signs of dawn.

  “I should have changed.”

  “Have you been up all night?”

  Darcy nodded. “I had to, I had to see you. The words my aunt said, they were wrong and never deserved a moment’s consideration. Please know, surely by now, I love . . .”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and Darcy paused.

  “Your aunt’s words do warrant a moment’s consideration by us, if you please, sir. Before you express the romantic sentiments I am certain exist between us, we must be practical. What if I am an embarrassment to you? My family?”

  Darcy took a step forward and gently touched her cheek with a crooked finger, finding his attentions made her shiver and him feel more powerful than an entire company of soldiers.

  “I long warred with myself over your family’s connections and status, long before I ever captured your queen. And the conclusion I came to, and still arrive at, is love will overcome. The bombastic aunts, the silly sisters, which I may add I have one in my possession as well, all of it. We shall overcome. Because you, my darling, are the first thought in my heart and mind when I awake and the last thought before I slip from the day’s consciousness at night.”

  Elizabeth blinked and nodded. She wanted to tell him that she, too, could find herself thinking about little other than him, but worried he would find her admissions brazen. Remembering he had not formally offered his hand, she worked back at the practicality side of their problems.

  “And what if I should be offended in London? Abused like I was this evening? I am not one for docile damsel is despair.” She arched her eyebrow to lighten up the mood surrounding her demand for an answer.

  Mr. Darcy collected her hands and held them cupped in his own. “Then I shall hand you the cup of punch or anything else you wish to throw at them!”

  Elizabeth giggled and Mr. Darcy joined in her laughter, the stresses of the previous evening finally beginning their journey to outrageous, but fond, memory in both of their lives.

  “You must be exhausted.” She clucked her tongue at the dark circles forming under his eyes, but Mr. Darcy used his grasp on her hands to pull her closer.

  “I beg of you, allow me to get this right.” He searched her eyes for the silent acceptance of his statement they both knew held more than one meaning. His muscles tight and rigid from a lack of sleep and prolonged sitting upon a rock, Mr. Darcy jaggedly lowered himself to one knee. Without realizing, Elizabeth Bennet sucked in her breath.

  “Elizabeth, you are an angel, goddess of wisdom and the beauty of Aphrodite combined into a woman of the highest accomplishments that I need by my side. I am desperately lost without you, I know this too well, and I fear even one more day without your acceptance. Please, my darling, allow me to care for you, to love you, and listen with all my might when you are cross with me. Will you consent to becoming my wife?”

  The sun rose completely from the horizon’s grasp and Elizabeth lost herself in the loving gaze of Fitzwilliam Darcy. If she had the words, she would have declared that she loved him so much, that part of her still wished to give him up if her love of him would at all negatively impact his life. But she worried attempting such a confession would result in one of their painful misunderstandings. So she chose her words well.

  “I happily accept, Fitzwilliam, your offer and suspect my own fears of living another day without your proposal might have driven me mad.” She smiled as he rose from the ground with a sudden burst of energy. The two of them swayed slightly in the early morning chill, him pressing his forehead against hers.

  “Did you miss me while I was in London?”

  “Every day. Too much.”

  “I hated every minute I was so far away, in a worse state than even a lovestruck poet!”

  Elizabeth sighed. “I tried to embroider I was so desperate for distraction!”

  Again their eyes locked and Elizabeth felt a growing need in her heart to somehow express the joy and elation filling every inch of body in a physical way, but lacked a plan as to what exactly she might do. She licked her lips and bit down on the bottom one lightly as she tried to come up with something.

  “May I? May I kiss you?” he asked.

  Instead of answering, Elizabeth tilted her chin and began to move her lips towards his own, but Darcy was too quick for her. He took her silence and slight movement toward him as consent to his hand gently cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers in a slow, passionate, kiss he had dreamed of doing over and over again in his mind.

  The experience of his kiss instantly warmed Elizabeth’s entire being, and she soon found herself pressing against his body, a natural reaction to his passion she had not had time to counteract with logic and teachings from a proper upbringing. He embraced her tighter, deepening the kiss, so desperate to make this moment live on forever.

  Eventually, the happy couple broke apart from the kiss but remained entwined with their hands. Birds began to sing the arrival of the morning, but to Elizabeth, it was Nature’s stamp of approval on a man she truly never dreamed to keep as her own.

  “It appears I have captured my king.”

  “Forever. And as much as I should like to remain on this beautiful prospect, I believe we ought speak with your father as soon as we might this morning.”

  “Mmm,” Elizabeth agreed as they began to walk hand in hand down the easier path of descent. “It is too bad we cannot join Jane and Bingley in their date next month.”

  “Oh, but we can. I applied for a special license while we were in London, tis why we took so much longer than the planned two days.”

  “A special license?”

  Darcy nodded.

  “Are you always this resourceful, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth teased as they reached the halfway point in the path down the hill.

  “Nay. Only when my very life is hanging in the balance.” Darcy paused their progress to see if she truly understood the amount of dedication he offered to her, utterly at the mercy of her love in return.

  “Well then. I shall have to be very careful with you since you are my own heart.” She smiled up at him through her eyelashes and found herself crushed in his arms and kissed once more in the privacy of the surrounding woods. Mr. Darcy kissed her breathless and remained holding onto h
er long after their lips parted and she settled her head against his chest.

  “I shall make you happy, I promise. Forgive me my faults and love my good nature.” Darcy’s voice pleaded as he still held her against him, Elizabeth finding herself lost in the cadence of his heartbeat. Slowly, she raised her hand to his stubbly cheek and rubbed the prickly patch before smoothly pressing her palm against his face.

  “All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.”

  Epilogue

  Summer, 1812

  Despite a special license, and the exorbitant expense Mrs. Bennet extolled over and over, Elizabeth Bennet wed Fitzwilliam Darcy in the summer of 1812 after a lengthy engagement. The trials and tribulations of a full London season as Mr. Darcy’s intended were behind them as Elizabeth walked down the aisle to her life’s desire in St. George’s Cathedral on the arm of her father.

  Most of the church was full of the highest in London society, though there were a few notable absences, namely Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her closest friends that remained loyal of her disapproval to the very end.

  Darcy’s aunt had not given up her mission to end their alliance, even though Darcy had threatened to cut off her funding. In the end, Elizabeth would not agree to such a harsh punishment, though it was arranged that Darcy’s cousin, Anne, would be joining them at Pemberley for a lengthy visit.

  By far, the most amusing of Mr. Darcy’s relations was a Colonel Fitzwilliam who had recently found an amusing affinity with Catherine Bennet who had found the last six months very maturing as she stepped up to support her sister Elizabeth in numerous social responsibilities.

  The vows were no different from any other couple of the realm, but to those present in the church that morning, there was no denying the grand scale of the affair was only eclipsed by the visible love and care the bride and groom evoked as they patiently listened to the Archbishop of Canterbury pronounce them as husband and wife. To the catcalls of many, Mr. Darcy kissed his bride with no shame before they committed their names forever one in the book of records.