Another Proposal, page 3
“I hardly think I need to resort to such stratagems, Miss Elizabeth,” replied Darcy. “The gentleman, though I have only met him twice, seems capable of handling that task with no assistance from me, or anyone else.”
Laughter rang out over the room, sending Darcy’s heart to swelling with love for this woman, and pride he had caused her mirth. It was some moments before their merriment retreated enough to speak sensibly again, and by that time, Darcy was impatient for an answer. The irony, that he should be eager for an answer and far less confident of a favorable response, did not escape Darcy’s notice.
“Well, Miss Elizabeth,” prompted he after a moment. “What say you? Now that you have received two proposals the same morning, having had the good judgment to reject the first, will you not accept the second?”
“Of course, she will!” the sound of a loud voice broke into their tête-à-tête, startling Darcy. Mrs. Bennet had arrived.
Elizabeth looked on with horror as her mother burst into the room and announced her acceptance of Mr. Darcy’s suit. The sound at the door had obviously been her mother eavesdropping on the conversation. Now she would attempt to control the situation. Stupid mistake!
“Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, bowing to the Bennet matron. “You have my apologies, Madam, for intruding on your rest after the ball last night.”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy, it is no trouble at all! Why, I dare say you may join us at any time convenient, for we are happy to receive you. I am ecstatic you have seen the worth of my second eldest daughter, for Lizzy is the prettiest of my girls—bar Jane, of course—and though she is not so agreeable in company as Lydia, I dare say she will make you an excellent wife!”
“Miss Elizabeth is an exceptional young woman,” said Mr. Darcy, his gaze finding Elizabeth again. “But I must say that I find her not only to be the prettiest, but also the most intelligent, and your most interesting daughter. I have never been so entertained as I am within Miss Elizabeth’s company.”
It was clear Mrs. Bennet did not know what to make of Mr. Darcy’s opinion of Elizabeth’s superiority to Jane, for it had long been her cherished opinion that Jane was the most beautiful of her daughters. For that matter, Elizabeth herself was of that opinion, though she supposed to a young man in the throes of infatuation, seeing the object of his interest as superior was not unusual. It was fortunate her mother did not say something mortifying, for she quickly pushed her confusion aside to flatter the gentleman and prevent his escape.
“Yes, well you show great discernment in seeing the appeal of my daughter. From the first moment of our acquaintance, I thought you a man of discrimination. I knew you would come around and enjoy our company, and I, for one, cannot wait until that day when we are connected with intimate bonds.”
Elizabeth could not help but blush, knowing that Mrs. Bennet, since the assembly, had never had anything good to say about the gentleman she was now praising to the skies. It seemed Mr. Darcy was also bemused, for if he was not privy to all Mrs. Bennet’s complaints concerning his person, Mrs. Bennet’s inability to control her tongue and lower her voice all but ensured he had heard her make at least a few choice observations.
And then Elizabeth realized this was the perfect way to show Mr. Darcy his mistake in offering for her. Surely the man would balk when faced with the reality of her mother’s excesses, especially when he had never had a good word to say about her. When Mr. Darcy glanced at her an instant later, Elizabeth grinned and folded her arms, her chin jutting out a little in her mother’s direction.
To Elizabeth’s great surprise, Mr. Darcy accepted the challenge. “It seems you have given me a flaming character, Mrs. Bennet, but I must be honest with you—for some time, I wondered if I could justify making an offer to your daughter.”
“Truly?” asked Mrs. Bennet with a gasp, some of her sudden approval for the gentleman slipping.
“Indeed,” replied Mr. Darcy. “For you must understand, Mrs. Bennet, that I am situated high in society—of the first circles, actually.”
“T-That i-is astonishing, Mr. Darcy,” managed her mother amid stammers of consternation.
“Not at all,” replied Mr. Darcy with a shrug. “For you see, though the height of society must seem like Zeus’s court on Olympia, in fact, it is people by many of those I consider barely tolerable.”
The gentleman directed a knowing smile at Mrs. Bennet—who seemed only now to understand the potential benefits to her family beyond having a daughter married, though Elizabeth was not certain her mother knew anything of Zeus. Mr. Darcy approached and grasped Mrs. Bennet’s arm, directing her toward the sofa and seating himself beside her. By now Elizabeth was questioning her strategy, but as there was nothing she could do at present, she followed to hear what he would say.
“Though I am now seven and twenty years of age,” continued Mr. Darcy, “I have spent several years in London attempting to discover a woman I can tolerate as a wife. Do you know I have not met a single woman before your daughter to whom I could imagine making an offer?”
“Come, Mr. Darcy, let us not lay it on so thickly!” protested Elizabeth.
“It is true,” was Mr. Darcy’s simple reply, before he turned back to her mother. “You have raised a daughter, Madam, whom I consider superior to every woman of society. I shall have to thank Bingley for inviting me to Hertfordshire, for I would never have met her had I not come.”
“Perceptive, indeed,” muttered Mrs. Bennet. Then she looked at Mr. Darcy and said: “I do not see Mr. Bingley here with you. Given the attention he has paid to Jane, I might have thought he would be the first to offer his proposal.”
“Bingley was unfortunately called to town early this morning,” said Mr. Darcy, much to Mrs. Bennet’s sudden concern. “But he assured me when he left that he would return in three or four days.”
“Oh, well that is good then,” replied Mrs. Bennet. She fell silent for a moment, thoughts churning in her head before she regarded Mr. Darcy again and asked: “Are you quite certain you wish to offer for my Lizzy?”
“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” replied Mr. Darcy with nary a hesitation. “Having raised your daughter, you must understand her perfections—there is no need for me to elucidate them. It is my hope we will be married before the season, for I have a great desire to introduce her to all my friends in London.”
By now Elizabeth was certain the man was teasing her mother, for she thought all his titled friends would think him daft for offering for a dowerless country girl. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes, however, became unfocused as she considered the opportunities Elizabeth would have as the wife of Mr. Darcy. Then Mr. Darcy delivered the coup de grâce.
“Furthermore, you must understand my estate in the north is an extensive property, which requires much of my attention. Perhaps we could arrange a visit for you and your family to join us for Christmastide next year. Bingley would already be married to your eldest, but your youngest girls would benefit from a connection with my family. My aunt, the countess, can assist them in society, though it is true they will be required to learn how to act in the circles I frequent. That will not be a problem since you will assist them.”
With a visible shake of her head, Mrs. Bennet turned shining eyes on Mr. Darcy and said: “I shall be guided by you, for I know you possess the experience of moving in society.”
“Then there is the simple matter of convincing your daughter to accept me,” said Mr. Darcy, his tone offhand.
“As I informed you, she will accept!” cried Mrs. Bennet, her glare at Elizabeth informing her she would accept Mr. Darcy.
“Oh, I am afraid I must have the answer from her, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy with a shake of his head. “I should not wish to have her as a wife without claiming her good opinion and affection. Having disdained all those women in London for so many years, it would not do to marry Miss Elizabeth with nothing more than her parents’ acceptance.”
“Lizzy is as agreeable a girl as ever lived, Mr. Darcy,” averred Mrs. Bennet. “I am sure she will see what a good man you are.”
Mrs. Bennet rose to her feet and beckoned Elizabeth, saying: “Come with me, Lizzy.” Then she turned a simpering smirk on Mr. Darcy. “Please allow us a moment, Mr. Darcy.”
“Of course,” was Mr. Darcy’s magnanimous reply.
By this point, Elizabeth was ready to kick the man’s shins if only he would be silent! With no other option, she followed her mother to the far side of the room, where Mrs. Bennet whirled on her.
“I suggest you come to know Mr. Darcy, Lizzy, for he is as charming a man as I ever met.” Then she leaned in a whispered: “Do not fail me, Daughter, for this is an opportunity we cannot pass up!”
Then with another smile and a curtsey at Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Bennet turned and exited the room. Astonished at what had just happened, Elizabeth turned back to the man who claimed, against everything she had ever known of him, that he wanted to marry her. Elizabeth was torn between railing at him and admiring him for the way he had led her mother about by the nose.
As Margaret Bennet left the room, she stopped for a moment to listen at the door, even stepping forward to peer through the crack again. As she had feared, Elizabeth’s shock as she regarded the gentleman turned to annoyance, as Mr. Darcy beckoned her closer.
With a grunt of disgust, Mrs. Bennet turned away. Though they had all known that Mr. Darcy was well placed in society, Margaret did not think anyone in the neighborhood had known to what extent. Opportunities such as this did not present themselves every day—Elizabeth must be worked upon to accept Mr. Darcy’s proposal, for if she married him, the family would be saved and would have no need of the detestable Mr. Collins.
A glance at the door to Mr. Bennet’s study yielded no solutions, for Mrs. Bennet knew the man would as easily support Elizabeth’s rejection of Mr. Darcy as he did her refusal of Mr. Collins. No, there must be some other way, some means by which Elizabeth would have no choice but to marry Mr. Darcy.
Then Mrs. Bennet knew.
“She will be made to marry him,” crowed Mrs. Bennet to herself. “She may not like it now, but in time she will learn to appreciate what I have done.”
Margaret Bennet stepped forward as if to go to war. There was much work to be done and little time to do it. It was best to be about her business.
Chapter III
When the sound of her mother demanding admittance to her husband’s study did not immediately follow her departure, Elizabeth was at first confused. Given the events of the morning, Elizabeth might have thought Mrs. Bennet would seek to bend her father’s opinion to her side of the imagined dispute. Elizabeth would not have thought her mother possessed the ability to see such an application was doomed to failure. Then again, perhaps Elizabeth was giving her less credit than she deserved.
Elizabeth turned back to Mr. Darcy, noting the man looking at the doorway through which her mother had just exited. What could she do? If she rejected Mr. Darcy’s proposal, Elizabeth knew the situation would become even more intolerable for her, for her mother would not allow two proposals to pass without a fight. And when she lost, she would become even more insufferable.
“A good woman, your mother,” mused Mr. Darcy. “She is, perhaps, a little rough around the edges, but it is clear she loves you and your sisters. Many society mothers care nothing about their progeny, except to show them to callers for a few moments and then send them back to their nursemaids. Then they become nothing more than pawns to be used in games of dynastic significance.”
With a huff, Elizabeth folded her arms and glared at the gentleman. “Oh, come now, Mr. Darcy—there is no need to dissemble with me. I am well aware of my mother’s faults, and have it on good authority that you cannot tolerate her.”
Mr. Darcy’s eyes found her and this time the intensity in them caused a shiver to run up Elizabeth’s spine. “While I will say your mother’s manners have not impressed me, sitting and speaking with her has improved my opinion. She is no worse than many mothers of society who have been stalking me these past years.”
Surprised, Elizabeth gazed at him and blurted: “Stalking you, Mr. Darcy? Surely not!”
A chuckle was his response, and he added: “Yes, I have had some of those, Miss Elizabeth, ladies eager to dispense with their marriage vows. But for the most part, I refer to women on the hunt for a wealthy man to marry their insipid progeny. Let me assure you I have no interest in the former, and of the latter . . . Let me only reiterate that what I said to your mother is the truth. I know my duty; I know I must marry and produce an heir to secure the future of my estate. But the thought of marrying a woman with naught but a bit of fluff in her head, one on the hunt to rise in society, or a woman of high society who cares for nothing more than cold, rational reasons, has kept me from marrying.
“Now, it seems to me we must have a conversation, and I fear it will take some time.” Mr. Darcy gestured toward the nearby sofa. “Shall we not sit?”
At first, Elizabeth thought to refuse him, for she was still discomposed from the morning, and this man was a large part of her confusion. Then she realized there was no good reason to rebuff him. Thus, she nodded and sat, feeling even more uncomfortable when Mr. Darcy placed himself entirely too near. There was nothing improper in the distance he sat from her, but to Elizabeth, across the room would have been too close for comfort.
“Thank you,” said Mr. Darcy. “Miss Elizabeth, it would be best if we agreed on complete honesty between us. Do I have your agreement?”
“You do,” said Elizabeth, seeing the sense in his suggestion.
“Excellent. Please inform me, were you about to refuse your second proposal of the day when your mother interrupted us?”
Elizabeth saw the humor in his mention of the previous proposal, but she did not feel like laughing at present. “I was,” replied she, deciding brevity was the best option.
“May I ask why?”
“Must I?” asked Elizabeth, her voice, to her own ears, sounding plaintive. “Is it not enough to know that I do not wish to marry you?”
“No, it is not enough,” replied Mr. Darcy with a frankness she would have expected from the man. “Since my heart is engaged, I would like to know if there is anything I can do to change your mind. You would not wish to send me away heartbroken, would you?”
“I am sure you will come to appreciate your escape,” replied Elizabeth, attempting levity. “Being amongst those of your circle will provide a balm to your bruised feelings.”
It was sudden and Elizabeth might have missed it had she been paying less attention, but in the blink of an eye, Mr. Darcy went from the more congenial man he had been with her mother to the gentleman who would not dance with anyone in the room at the assembly. Though her success in reading his facial expressions had always been limited, at that moment she could see what she had never thought to see; hurt. Her words had seemed to find a chink in his armor, for he appeared more vulnerable than she could ever have imagined!
“I well know that your feelings are not the equal of mine, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, his voice distant. “But I would ask you not to mock or attempt to diminish them. I will confess that some of what I said to your mother was calculated to gain her approval, and I apologize if it seems to you I was making light of the situation. My feelings, however, are true.”
“I apologize, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, feeling quite contrite. “I never intended to offend.”
The gentleman breathed in deeply, suggesting to Elizabeth he was attempting to release his tension. For Elizabeth, the matter had just become much more real than she had ever imagined. Dismissing a man whose feelings for her were shallow and imaginary was one thing, but it appeared Mr. Darcy was not of the same ilk as Mr. Collins.
“I know you did not,” replied Mr. Darcy after he had gathered some of his composure. He paused and eyed her for a moment, his look softened, and he said: “Miss Elizabeth, if you irrevocably decide against me, I shall depart, and we shall never discuss the matter again. But I reiterate my desire to learn why you would have refused me without further thought. Can you not find enough compassion to give me that much?”
“If you wish it, of course, I shall,” said Elizabeth. Pausing, she licked her lips, uncertain what to say, before venturing: “It does not seem beneficial for me to enumerate your faults as I see them, for I suspect when I am finished, all love in your heart will have turned to disgust.”
“There is nothing which could make me disgusted of you, Miss Elizabeth. And if you speak of what you find lacking in my character, that allows me the opportunity to improve myself, or mount a defense if warranted, does it not?”
“I suppose you are correct. Very well, I shall speak.”
Elizabeth again fell silent, considering what she should say. Mr. Darcy gave her an encouraging nod, and Elizabeth found herself smiling in return.
“I am not certain I know where to start,” said Elizabeth.
“In cases such as this,” replied Mr. Darcy, “I have often found it easiest to start from the beginning.”
“That would be the assembly,” said Elizabeth.
Mr. Darcy frowned. “Truly? I do not believe we spoke that night.”
“Oh, we did not speak,” said Elizabeth, a wave of the old annoyance once again sweeping over her. With great determination she tamped it down, forcing herself to a rational state. “But you spoke, sir, and in a manner which left me in no doubt of your opinion.”
Though Mr. Darcy’s look had been puzzled, he suddenly blanched and blurted: “You heard the exchange between Bingley and me!”
“I did,” confirmed Elizabeth. “And before you suggest I should not have been eavesdropping, I was sitting nearby and had been for some time before you wandered near.”
“I had not thought . . .” Mr. Darcy paused and shook his head as if to clear it. “I would never dare to suggest such a thing. It seems you have harbored this anger against me for some time, though I will note you hid it well, for I had no notion.”
