Another Proposal, page 4
“Did I hide it?” asked Elizabeth, arching an eyebrow in response to his assertion. “Perhaps I did, though I will remind you I always thought our exchanges were arguments.” Elizabeth fell silent for a moment, then shot him an embarrassed look adding: “I suppose it does not speak well to my vanity that such a small matter led me to more than a month of resentment.”
“Nothing of the sort,” replied Mr. Darcy, his tone firm. “Of course, you would take exception to such a characterization spoken by a lout to whom you had not even been introduced. My cousin has told me often I would offend if I did not learn to curb my tongue, and it seems he was correct. Though I hesitate to ask, is there anything more?”
“There is, though given your behavior today, I believe I understand more of your character.” At his encouraging nod, Elizabeth said: “Well, I have always thought . . . It seems to me you have little regard for anyone of the neighborhood.”
“I do not know most people who live in this neighborhood.”
Elizabeth looked heavenward. “You have lived here for a month, sir—is that not enough time to become acquainted with at least some of the locals? Or is your arrogance such that you believe yourself above them all?”
“I . . .” Mr. Darcy paused and considered, and after a moment let out a sigh. “No, I must be honest with you, Miss Bennet, since you have been so good as to be honest with me. I have . . . Well, I have often thought quite well of myself. Your claim of arrogance is not unwarranted.”
“But you consider yourself a close friend of Mr. Bingley’s,” reminded Elizabeth. “You are not above your company at all times, for I think many of your station would not consider befriending a man of his background.”
A laugh was Mr. Darcy’s response. “Ah, Bingley—yes, he is a good friend. Anyone who cannot see his worth must be blind. I thank you for that bit of praise, Miss Elizabeth—it is something for which my behavior has been praiseworthy, I think.”
Elizabeth paused, thinking hard about what had happened the night before. She did not wish to ruin his good mood, but this discussion of Mr. Bingley provided her an opportunity to discover his opinion of Jane.
“Then you are not against Mr. Bingley’s attentions to Jane.”
That brought Mr. Darcy up short. “Bingley is his own man and may do as he pleases.”
“Did you not hear Sir William’s words last night with little disposition to support the match?”
Mr. Darcy regarded her, understanding her challenging tone, and for a moment he did not speak. When he did, Elizabeth was certain he spoke with great care. “Should Bingley and Miss Bennet share a mutual regard, there is nothing I could say against them.”
“But you disapprove of her, do you not?” said Elizabeth.
“I have proposed to you, Miss Elizabeth.”
This time it was Elizabeth’s turn to be silenced. Seeing she did not have a ready response, Mr. Darcy used the opportunity to speak.
“Miss Elizabeth, the reason for my behavior after learning of the expectations of the neighborhood was concern, not only for my friend but also for your sister. I was not aware such an expectation existed, but after a little reflection, I realized it should have been obvious. I am certain it will not be a surprise to know Bingley’s sisters do not favor the match?”
“Nothing you could have said would surprise me less,” Elizabeth replied, giving him a wry smile. “They have made their opinions abundantly clear.”
Mr. Darcy nodded his agreement. “Though I believe their friendship for your sister is sincere, that does not extend to seeing her installed as their sister. I shall not presume to speak for them, but I will say that Bingley is new in society, and his sisters hope that he will lay claim to their family’s place by marrying an heiress who will raise their standing.” A slight smile fell over Mr. Darcy’s features. “In fact, I know they already have a young woman chosen, though I do not favor their choice at this time.
“My opinion regarding Bingley’s choice of a bride is much simpler—I believe Bingley requires a bride who will accept him because of her attachment to him, and I doubt his sisters’ ambitions will be gratified, for the simple reason that the only women of society who would have him would take him for his money. For Bingley, love is much more important than status.”
“Then you need have no fear for Jane, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “Not only do I believe her feelings are deep and true, but my refusal of Mr. Collins this morning should be evidence enough that we Bennets will not marry where we do not wish.”
“Not to mention my current difficulty in persuading you to accept my suit.”
They laughed together for a moment, Elizabeth feeling strangely closer to this man than she had ever thought possible. The feeling did not last long, for Mr. Darcy continued to speak.
“It is also pertinent then to inform you that though Bingley’s plans are to return as soon as his business is complete, his sister has raised the possibility of following him to London. I am certain it is of little surprise to you that the reason for this quick decampment would be to ensure he does not return.”
“And yet you are here,” said Elizabeth.
“I had thought of agreeing,” confessed Mr. Darcy. “Though I understand and believe your assertions concerning your sister, last night I could detect no admiration in her manner and thought her indifferent to my friend.”
Elizabeth found his statement offensive, but there was no opportunity to speak. “The more I thought of it, however, the more I realized I did not wish to leave. Though I could not determine the reason myself, I left the house this morning for a ride and found my horse’s footsteps led me here. It took me some time to understand my feelings, but now I know I could not leave you behind. It is in every way unfathomable.”
“I hope you do not mean to make me marry you to secure Jane’s happiness,” said Elizabeth, not entirely in jest.
“Perhaps that might be best,” said Mr. Darcy with a chuckle. “My impression of you is you would do anything for your sister’s happiness. Given your words this morning, I wonder if I shall ever persuade you otherwise.”
Relieved—though Elizabeth found herself unsurprised—she nodded. “I appreciate that, sir.” Giving him a wan smile, she added: “It is possible I might agree if Jane’s happiness was the condition, but I would also do everything in my power to make your life miserable.”
“Then we must avoid that at all costs.”
For a moment, Elizabeth considered the matter further, and then asked: “Do you hold the neighborhood in contempt?”
Mr. Darcy sighed. “Often, my behavior leads others to believe that I do. It will not surprise you to learn that I am uncomfortable in the company of strangers, Miss Elizabeth, and have a difficult time coming to know new acquaintances. I am a rather reticent fellow, for conversation is not a skill I hold to any great degree. When I am among particular friends, I am told my demeanor becomes much more open, more agreeable, and I find I can speak with little difficulty, especially if the conversation is of substance. But small talk is my bane—I have little talent in it.”
Elizabeth nodded and they fell silent for a time. Before that morning, Elizabeth would not have credited Mr. Darcy as having any redeeming qualities at all. Their tête-à-tête had opened her eyes to many truths about the gentleman, the largest surprise being his feelings for her. Never would she have guessed it, for he had always been so cold, so unmoved by anything she said.
Now she knew that was patently untrue. Mr. Darcy had been exceedingly moved by her, for he had taken their arguments as debates, their interaction as much more amicable than she had. How had she misread him so? Elizabeth was forced to acknowledge, she had never wished to consider his feelings, for it was much easier to assume his heart was nothing more than a block of stone. How blind she had been!
“Then have you finished, Miss Elizabeth?” asked Mr. Darcy. He favored her with a slight smile. “Do you have any other faults to lay at my feet, or have we come to the end of my prodigious ability to offend you?”
“I have no more injuries to resent, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “But I do wonder, with what you have shown me of yourself this morning, of your dealings with Mr. Wickham.”
Mr. Darcy’s countenance fell, and his amusement became the chill of winter. “I suppose I should have known he would attempt to blacken my name. Let us see if I can divine his charges: he says we grew up together, he was my father’s favorite, my father left him a substantial living in his will, and I refused to honor my father’s wishes. Is that correct?”
Shocked, Elizabeth could only nod.
“For all Wickham has a silver tongue and an ability to charm where he pleases,” said Mr. Darcy, shaking his head in disgust, “he shows a distressing lack of imagination, though I suppose the truth in his lies makes them more believable.”
“Then he has lied?” blurted Elizabeth.
“If that is what he told you, then yes, Miss Elizabeth. Some of his facts are the truth, but he has altered the salient points to render himself the abused party. The facts are not so kind to him.
“Let me tell you, then, the true account of our dealings. Wickham was the son of my father’s steward, and my father enjoyed his company. When my father died, he recommended in his will that I assist Wickham in whatever occupation he decided to pursue. As you know, it requires more than a living for a man to become a parson—the man must also be ordained. It is fortunate that Mr. Wickham decided he wished to have nothing to do with the church, for I knew he would make a poor clergyman.
“Instead, he informed me he would study the law and wished for some remuneration for the living from which he would not prosper. As I knew he should not be responsible for the spiritual needs of a parish, I agreed. With the bequest my father had set aside for him, we agreed on the sum of four thousand pounds in lieu of the living, and he signed an agreement resigning all future claim.”
“Four thousand pounds?” asked Elizabeth with a gasp. “But that is almost two years of my father’s income!”
“And he depleted it in less than two years, Miss Elizabeth,” replied Mr. Darcy, his manner grim. “Signing the contract did not prevent him from writing to me when the incumbent of the living passed away unexpectedly, requesting I appoint him to the position. It was then that I refused him and endeavored to disabuse him of any repetition of his pleas.”
“He certainly left that part out of his tale, sir,” said Elizabeth, feeling ashamed for being so effortlessly duped. How could she have given credence to his words? Was the manner of his communication, so soon after making his acquaintance, not evidence enough of his impropriety?
“Do not blame yourself, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, compassion coloring his voice. “Wickham is a practiced deceiver. There was no reason for you to be suspicious of him.”
“Except that I consider myself an excellent judge of character,” spat Elizabeth, her anger directed at herself rather than Mr. Darcy. “Thank you for your comforting words, but in this instance, I have only myself to blame. Mr. Wickham extracted my dislike for you and fed me lies he knew I would gnaw over like a dog with a bone. I should have been more circumspect, and I unquestionably should have distrusted such an account so soon after making his acquaintance. In this, Jane has been more discerning than I.”
“Then your antipathy for me is now a thing of the past?”
Elizabeth met Mr. Darcy’s eyes, noting the hope shining from them. For a time, she considered him, noting again, as she had not allowed herself to do since the assembly, how handsome he was when his countenance was not covered by a mask of disapproval.
Did she hate him? No, such a feeling made little sense, and as Elizabeth considered it further, she realized that she had never hated him. Somehow her response to him had always been strong, whether her initial attraction or the aversion to his manners and arrogance. But it had never become so fervent as to be called hate. That did not inform her of the truth of her feelings now, and Elizabeth suspected they would not become clear for some time.
“If I can prove my devotion to you and provide proof of Wickham’s perfidy, would you reconsider your inclination to reject my proposal?”
“There is no need to prove anything regarding Mr. Wickham, sir,” Elizabeth replied softly. “I can see what a fool I have been concerning that gentleman. I believe you without reservation.”
“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. Then what of the other matter?”
“Perhaps you might persuade me,” replied Elizabeth, feeling her cheeks heating in embarrassment. “I wonder at your continued insistence on marrying me, sir, for I have proven myself to be a silly girl, who has not the sense God gave a goose.”
“And I do not blame you for believing Wickham,” said Mr. Darcy. “It seems I gave you little reason to think well of me. Moreover, I should have warned you and your family as soon as I knew Wickham was in the area. In fact, a warning to the colonel and the shopkeepers might be prudent, for I have a sure knowledge of Wickham’s ability to accumulate debt with alacrity.”
“I would appreciate it if you did, sir.”
Mr. Darcy nodded, then his gaze set upon her, waiting for her response to his other question. Though Elizabeth remained uncertain, in later years she would realize there had never been much of a choice.
“Then let us begin again, Mr. Darcy. I look forward to it.”
With the utmost of tenderness, Mr. Darcy reached out and grasped Elizabeth’s hand, bringing it to his lips. His breath, warm and sensual, flowed over the hairs on the back of her hand, making them stand, causing a tickling to race up her arm. Elizabeth looked at him in wonder as he looked up again, his eyes meeting hers and his smile causing her to feel faint.
“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. I look forward to the opportunity to change your mind.”
Chapter IV
Gossip was not a habit one should laud. It was fortunate, then, that Miss Kitty and Lydia Bennet did not gossip—it was not gossip of it was true, was it? And no one—except for the odious parson, perhaps—could be hurt if they shared the morning’s riotous scene.
“Lizzy refused a proposal of marriage?” asked a stunned Maria Lucas. “And from Mr. Collins?”
“Come now, Miss Lucas,” said Captain Carter, “you did not expect Miss Elizabeth to accept a proposal from Mister Collins, did you?” Captain Carter was, perhaps, not so handsome as many of the other officers, but Kitty and Lydia both liked him very well, for he was an interesting man.
“Especially given his performance last night on the dance floor,” laughed Lieutenant Denny.
The entire group, save Maria, who still appeared rather perplexed, laughed along with him, the sisters laughing as much and as loud as any of the rest. Among their number included Lieutenants Sanderson and Chamberlayn and some of the younger ladies of the neighborhood. Wickham was not present, though Lydia had a great interest in relating to him what she knew of the morning’s excitement.
“I did not mean to suggest that Lizzy would not refuse him,” protested Maria. “It is only that I had no notion he was paying any attention to her at all.”
Kitty and Lydia exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter. “It was plain as day!” exclaimed a gleeful Lydia. “Surely you do not think he danced the first with her—if you can call it dancing—for any other reason.”
“And he has followed her about like a lost puppy ever since his coming,” added Kitty.
“But I do not live at Longbourn,” replied Maria, anger taking hold of her. “How could I have known?”
“Oh, do not concern yourself over it, Maria,” said Lydia. “That is why we are here—to inform you all of what has happened. And it was great fun!”
So saying, Lydia began relating the morning’s fun with great relish and Kitty’s assistance, though she could have done very well without Kitty’s constant interruptions. To say her audience was amused with her rendition was an understatement, but Lydia rather enjoyed her position with the officers, the way they hung off every word she spoke. No other girl in the district could claim the like!
“Your cousin is an amusing fellow!” exclaimed Denny when Lydia informed them of Mr. Collins’s initial refusal to believe Elizabeth’s determination to reject the proposal. “What sort of a man is this parson? A man does not inform the object of his affections that she will never marry if she does not accept his proposal.”
“And it is untrue if I am any judge,” said Carter. “It seems to me any man would be fortunate to have Miss Elizabeth for a wife—I cannot see her attracting no one more than a buffoonish parson.”
“Aye, Lizzy is a good sister,” said Lydia. “Any of us—except Mary—can do better than Mr. Collins.”
“Perhaps Mary should encourage him,” said Kitty with a snicker. “She is as dull as he is and as insistent about quoting Fordyce!”
They all laughed again at this, and Lydia laughed as hard as any of them. It also gave her an opportunity to consider the matter a little further and to reflect on Carter’s words of Lizzy. Though Lydia had little desire for anyone to know it, secretly she had always admired Elizabeth’s poise and bearing, her intelligence and her knowledge of the world. Though Lydia often thought her a bit of a stick in the mud, one eager to curtail Lydia’s fun, she had great respect and affection for her elder sister.
“Well,” said Carter, “I commend your sister for being intelligent enough to know the parson would make her miserable, and I hope she finds a man more to her liking. Though our meeting has been great fun, however, I think it might be best if we were about our duties.”
The man made a pretty bow over Lydia’s hand and smiled at her. “As always, it has been a great pleasure to speak with you, Miss Lydia. Until next time.”
While Lydia was a little vexed her favorite officers needed to depart, she was flattered by Captain Carter’s farewell, and so gave him a playful curtsey as he turned and led his fellow officers away. Left with their friends, they spoke for a few more moments before they began to disperse, Maria muttering something about needing to return home.
