Folly and Forgiveness: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Lizzy Brandon

  “My fingers do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do,” she replied absently as she read the music in front of her. “They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault,” she looked up and pinned him with her eyes, “because I will not take the trouble of practicing.” She held his gaze a moment longer as she played. “It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.”

  Darcy smiled, feeling lighter inside than he had all evening. She did not think him incapable of socializing and was urging him to practice more. She recognized that he was making an effort. She must understand he was making the effort for her.

  He had managed not to say anything to offend her and was actually conversing with her competently. A paltry accomplishment for anyone else, certainly. For Darcy, he felt much as he had the first time he had managed to ride a horse completely on his own.

  “You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting.” He waited until he again had her full gaze. “We neither of us perform to strangers.”

  Elizabeth gave him a knowing smile before demurely lowering her eyes, and Darcy knew he was smiling back, unbidden. He did not need to concentrate on his facial expression to ensure he was not dour, his elation at Elizabeth’s response ensured his joy was evident.

  Unfortunately, his pleasure was evident to more than Elizabeth.

  “Darcy! Come here!” Lady Catherine demanded.

  With his apologies, he left Elizabeth and joined his aunt so she could point out the errors in Elizabeth’s performance, the lack of feeling she conveyed in her playing, all resulting, Lady Catherine was certain, from Elizabeth’s meagre education and resulting ignorance. Lady Catherine continued by criticizing Elizabeth’s taste in music and moved on to praises of Anne’s tastes and certain superiority, had her health allowed her to learn.

  Darcy ignored most of her speech, intent upon replaying Elizabeth’s words in his head, searching for any meaning he may have missed the first time. Defending Elizabeth would only enrage Lady Catherine further. His aunt did not know the meaning of retreat, she would only dig in and fight harder.

  His lack of attention was noted, and Lady Catherine increased the vitriol in her commentary. Elizabeth was now quite plain featured compared to Anne’s beauty and certainly lacked any connections or wealth. At any time, Elizabeth could be living on the streets should her father die and Mr. Collins take control of the estate.

  Darcy forbore from pointing out that the man was unlikely to throw his sister out onto the streets to starve. Lady Catherine had passed the point of being capable of even hearing a response much less acknowledging reason.

  Anne sent him an apologetic look from across the room. Lady Catherine’s hopes had certainly been raised after seeing the cousins together at dinner. Darcy should have considered his aunt’s presence before paying such marked attention to Elizabeth. Had he strategized better, he could have kept Lady Catherine in ignorance.

  “Aunt, may I fetch you some wine? I fear you are becoming overwrought.”

  “I am not!” she hissed in response. “Do not think that I do not see what you are up to. You will not flaunt another woman in front of my daughter. I will not stand for such blatant disrespect. Have the decency to behave with discretion like other men do.”

  Darcy stepped back, stunned. “As I have told you on many occasions, I have no intention of marrying Anne. Do not insult Miss Elizabeth in such a manner again. She is a gentleman’s daughter and will be treated as such.”

  Veins popped out along Lady Catherine’s temples, but Darcy did not care. He would ignore much from his aunt, but he would not stand by as Elizabeth was insulted in such a manner.

  “You will marry Anne. You both have a duty to your family, to carry on the plans of your mothers. Do not think you can cast Anne aside, and for whom – a chit of no resources, no status, and no appreciation for duty?” Lady Catherine’s voice steadily rose and Darcy feared she could now be heard throughout the room.

  “I know well the disregard that girl has for family. She callously refused Mr. Collins, despite her mother’s pleading, despite their own meager circumstances should her father die. Her impertinence and heartless ingratitude to so generous an offer caused God to strike down her own mother in response.”

  Darcy felt his heart pounding in his chest, certain it could be heard across the now silent room. He struggled to contain his rage, fearful what he might do to his aunt if he could not control the fury surging through his body.

  “God did not strike down my mother.”

  All heads turned to Mrs. Collins, shocked that she of all people should be the one to speak at such a time.

  CHAPTER 25

  “My sister is not to blame for our mother’s death. She refused Mr. Collins because she could see that they would ill suit each other, a conclusion with which even you must agree, Lady Catherine. Our mother was angry and in her anger, she had an accident. God did not strike her down. Even if God had taken offense at Elizabeth’s behavior, why would He punish my mother for Elizabeth’s actions? Elizabeth was not the correct lady for Mr. Collins because I am. Mr. Collins and I are very happy together. To suggest that God wanted Elizabeth to marry Mr. Collins and punished our mother for Elizabeth’s disobedience is both ridiculous and cruel.”

  The room again fell silent. No one present had ever heard Mrs. Collins speak up to anyone previously, let alone Lady Catherine. Through his shock, Darcy felt a new respect for Elizabeth’s sister. Darcy looked around the room. Mr. Collins took his wife’s hand in support of her statement. Lady Catherine had turned near purple, so great was her fury. With a noise approaching a growl, the lady turned and stalked out of the room, to the great relief of everyone.

  Elizabeth was pale, and Darcy feared she might faint. Fitzwilliam was already at her side, asking what he could do for her, but Darcy pushed past him.

  “Miss Elizabeth, please sit. You are not well.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I must go. I will return to the parsonage.”

  “Let me call for the carriage,” Fitzwilliam responded.

  “No,” Elizabeth replied again in a shaky voice. “No, I wish to leave now. I cannot wait. I will walk back.”

  “I will accompany you,” Darcy insisted. “You should not be out alone at this time in the evening. There is moon enough to light the path, but I cannot allow you to make the journey alone.”

  Elizabeth walked past him and out of the room. Darcy quickly assured Mr. Collins that he would see her home. As Mrs. Collins was now in a bit of a state, after having caused such excitement, Darcy doubted she was capable of walking anywhere at the moment. Mr. Collins acknowledged his words, but did not leave his wife’s side.

  Darcy rushed out to follow Elizabeth, who had already made quick progress leaving the house.

  “Elizabeth, wait,” he called out, but she did not slow. He ran ahead to catch up to her.

  “Elizabeth, please, wait one moment,” he continued, stopping in front of her, forcing her to face him.

  “My aunt was a beast. I beg your forgiveness for the pain she has caused you.”

  “I cannot take offense when one speaks the truth.” Elizabeth began to tremble as she wiped tears from her eyes.

  “It is not the truth but blasphemy. God did not strike down your mother.”

  “Perhaps not, but I still killed her.”

  “Elizabeth, how could you even believe such a thing?”

  “Lady Catherine was correct. I would not heed my mother’s pleading, despite knowing she worried for our future. Mary has solved that problem for us, but I did not know she would at the time. I knew only that my happiness was more important than my family’s security.”

  “And you would exchange yourself?”

  Elizabeth broke down into sobs
as Darcy watched helplessly.

  “I accused her of bartering me,” Elizabeth cried as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I had never seen her so hurt by something I had said. I could not even apologize to her. She said she would never speak to me again, and now she will not.”

  Darcy took off his jacket and wrapped it around Elizabeth’s shaking shoulders.

  “Still, her death is not your fault. She may have been angry, but preventing her anger was not your responsibility. You needed to see to your own future. You cannot live your life for someone else.”

  Darcy felt a hypocrite to speak the words he had only lately come to believe. Had he not thought duty to be his paramount responsibility until recently? He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her all would be well, but knew she would not welcome such a gesture.

  Elizabeth tugged his coat around herself and began once again to walk toward the parsonage.

  “I wished to choose my own future rather than have a partner thrust upon me. In my selfish demand for independence, I received my wish.”

  “Elizabeth, stop. You take too much upon yourself.”

  Elizabeth laughed hollowly. “I remember saying much the same to you, yet I believe you were offended at such a suggestion.”

  “And I remember telling you once before that you cannot blame yourself for the consequences of another’s actions, especially when the other was attempting to impose upon you.”

  “My mother was not assaulting me.”

  “Had you heeded her advice, your life would have been miserable.”

  Elizabeth shook her head and tugged the coat tighter around herself.

  “It would have, yes. Would that not have been an acceptable price to pay for her life?”

  “If you knew at that moment that your decision would be the sole cause of life or death for another, then perhaps. But such was not the case. No one knows what the future holds. I may trip and break my neck as I walk with you. Does it follow that I should have allowed you to return to the parsonage unescorted simply because something bad might happen? Your mother just as easily could have fallen down the stairs on top of Mr. Collins and killed him. Your actions would be the same. Would you feel such guilt if Mr. Collins were dead instead?” He watched her as she continued walking in silence. “Truly, I wish you to answer.”

  Elizabeth considered. “I would not.”

  “Would you try to tell your mother that she was not to blame for such an accident?”

  “I would,” she admitted softly after another hesitation.

  “Why then can you not admit that you cannot control everything?”

  “Fine words from a man who would relinquish control only at knifepoint.”

  Darcy ignored her words. “Accidents will happen and you cannot take the blame for them all. You can grieve for your mother without insisting her death was your fault.”

  “I thought I had,” she replied softly and Darcy stepped closer to hear her better.

  “I thought I had,” she continued, “But whenever I seem able to accept I could not have foreseen the unpredictable, someone steps forward to remind me she would not have been angrily ascending the stairs to fall had we not quarreled fiercely only moments before.”

  Darcy was confused. His aunt’s accusation was horrible, but Lady Catherine was often a horrible person. Who else would dare accuse Elizabeth in such a way?

  Darcy clenched his jaw. “May I assume, from that statement, that Wickham had guessed what guilt you felt?” The thought of that animal using Elizabeth’s grief against her in his attempts at seduction made Darcy wish he had not restrained himself after striking the man.

  “I thought he was so kind at the time, always seeking to put me at ease and assure me I was taking undue blame upon myself. Now that I know what he is, I see he made certain to bring up my role in her death every time we met.”

  “And I am certain he offered his support through your misery,” Darcy snapped, furious with himself for not understanding earlier.

  “He would take my hand or step too close, but I would be so miserable at the time that I could not tell him to cease, especially when I thought he was trying to console me. I thought he was falling in love with me,” she ended with a bitter laugh.

  “Wickham knows nothing of love, save his love for himself. He knows manipulation and flattery, but not love.

  “I know now. I am ashamed I could not see it sooner.”

  He could not bear to hear her speak of Wickham and love in the same breath. More, he could not listen to her mention love with such bitterness in her voice. Not when he knew what real love was.

  “Elizabeth,” he started, then stepped in front of her to again bring her to a stop. He should not use her name so, but he could not help himself. Had he not decided he must be more open with her if he was ever to make her understand his feelings?

  “Elizabeth, in vain have I struggled. It will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

  Elizabeth blinked a few times and covered her mouth with her hand, but said nothing.

  “I cannot have you believe whatever self-interested emotion Wickham felt was love when the true version resides in my heart, has resided there for some time. I realize I am selecting a terrible time to say these words, but I must speak. I must make you understand. My feelings will not be repressed.”

  “Please stop,” Elizabeth whispered.

  A weight pressed against his chest. He could not have heard her correctly.

  He should not have spoken now. Perhaps his earlier success this evening had gone to his head, for he could think of no other reason he could have ignored all caution and spoken as he had. Darcy should have waited until a time when neither of them was distressed or upset. He certainly should have waited until they had spent more time together, comfortable in one another’s company. One evening of easy banter was not a sufficient foundation.

  He had rushed his declaration.

  He may have been open, but he was not wise. He truly was a fool. She had been abused by his aunt and made to feel responsible for her own trauma. Darcy had no business dropping additional burdens upon her by bringing up such a subject at this time.

  “Elizabeth –”

  “No, please, do not say another word, for I cannot hear you now.” Elizabeth rubbed her hands over her face and Darcy could see he had significantly added to her distress.

  “Forgive me, I did not mean to add to your unease.” The weight on his chest grew and wrapped around him, trying to crush him. He had hoped his words might provide some comfort to her, some knowledge that she had inspired such an emotion. He had thought nothing of what she felt. He may have known he loved her for some time, but until recently, Elizabeth had believed he disliked her – may still even think so. She could in no way be ready to hear such words from him.

  “Forgive me,” he repeated, sincerely this time. “I was selfish to have spoken so.”

  “I cannot,” she stated, lowering her hands and looking him in the eye.

  He had no doubt now as to what she meant, and the vise around his chest gripped even tighter. He could not seem to catch his breath.

  “I know you are a respectable and decent man. I treated you abominably earlier in our acquaintance, and I wish you to know that I now see the errors in my prior judgment.”

  “Then why . . .” he could not finish the sentence.

  “We would not make one another happy.” She had a great sadness in her eyes as she looked at him now. He looked away, trying to discern what that sadness might mean and if he had any hope of recovering from such a monumental error.

  “You say you love me,” she continued, “but you do not know me. You have sought to make a better impression upon me, but only because you wished my good opinion. I love my family. Would you welcome them to Pemberley?”

  “Miss Bennet and Mrs. Collins would most certainly be welcome –”

  “But what of Kitty and Lydia? My Aunt and Uncle the country attorney? My Au
nt and Uncle in trade? My father? I care for all of them, but you would rebuff their company. If my mother were still alive, would you welcome her?”

  Darcy said nothing. He hurt too much to speak and refused to lie to her and insist they would be welcome. Tolerated, at best, but he could not say they would be welcome. He had hoped that once he had Elizabeth at Pemberley he could ignore the rest of her relations. Miss Bennet would marry Bingley and Mrs. Collins would be at Rosings, so those sisters would naturally be part of their lives going forward, but he had not assumed a place in their life for the rest.

  “You are a proud man, and you have reason to be. Your sphere is far above my own. But I will not leave behind those I love. I could not love a man who would expect me to do so. More than anything else, I cannot marry you, Mr. Darcy, because while I respect you, I fear I could not love you. If you do love me, you deserve to have your love returned in equal measure in marriage, and so do I. If I continue to harbor any sense of responsibility for my mother’s death, then I cannot accept a marriage less than the one I demanded as my right when I refused her choice of husband.”

  Elizabeth rapidly wiped a hand across her cheeks. “I am sorry Mr. Darcy. I believe you care for me, but I cannot accept a man who may care for me, but look meanly upon the rest of the world, including those I care for. I sincerely hope you find a lady deserving of yourself, and who will make you happy.” She paused to catch her breath. “Accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

  With that, she turned and walked, then ran the short distance remaining to the parsonage. Darcy watched her go and made certain she made it into the house before he turned to go back to Rosings.

  He had thought he felt pain before when he could not offer for her. How wrong he had been. Pain was knowing that he had tried to win her, was ready to offer for her, but still she would not have him.

  Rain began to drip onto his shirtsleeves and he realized Elizabeth still had his coat. She could keep it. Perhaps the rain could wash away some of his disgust with himself.