Mr. Darcy's Return: A Pride and Prejudice Variation, page 4
Her toilette completed soon on the heels of these ruminations, Georgiana descended to the breakfast room, wondering what she might do to induce William to see the truth. There she found her brother, appearing as if he had just arrived, sitting down at the table with a full plate, the newspaper next to his elbow.
“Good morning, Georgiana,” said William, rising to his feet and greeting her with a kiss on her cheek.
“Good morning, William,” replied Georgiana with a smile.
William was an excellent brother, being both protective and affectionate. Having lost her father at the tender age of eleven, William had often seemed more like a parent to Georgiana than an elder brother. Anthony, her other guardian, was jovial and attentive, more filling the role of a brother, though he was not incapable of more sternness when necessary. William had always filled the role of an authority figure.
As she filled her plate with food from the sideboard, Georgiana considered how she might persuade her brother to confide in her. One did not speak with directness to a parent, which left oblique methods by which she might induce him to be explicit. Georgiana wondered if she had the wherewithal to depart from the boundaries of their relationship yet knowing that it was necessary if she were to prevent a disaster.
For a time after she sat, Georgiana concentrated her attention on breakfast, sating her immediate hunger, noting that William did the same while perusing the paper on the table beside him. The longer they sat together, the more nervous she became at the prospect of broaching such a subject with him. When she spoke, she did so knowing if she remained silent much longer, she would lose all courage to speak.
“Thank you for introducing me to so many interesting acquaintances last night.”
“Hmm,” said her brother, not entirely tearing his attention from his paper. “I cannot say if I would consider them all agreeable, though there are certainly good people among them.”
“Especially Miss Bennet and her sisters,” said Georgiana, trying to take the conversation in the direction she needed.”
“There are few, I think, who could dislike Miss Bennet.” William’s lips curled with distaste. “The youngest girls are not the equal of their elder sisters.”
“I think that is particularly because of their more tender years,” said Georgiana, surprised at her daring. “Kitty and Lydia were entertaining company.”
Finally, William looked up from his paper; Georgiana nearly felt her courage fail as his look of speculation fell on her.
“The younger Bennets, yes,” said he, a hint of musing in his voice. “If I did not know you could behave yourself, I might warn you away from them. They are far too spirited for their own good.”
“You are correct, of course,” said Georgiana, quick to reassure him. “I have no notion I would ever behave with such heedlessness as they do, yet I still enjoyed their company.”
With a nod, William turned back to his paper, leaving Georgiana to consider what she might say next. William was not in much of a mood to speak, which, while not unusual, was not conducive to her self-appointed mission to prevent a scene. Not wishing to belabor the point, she brought the conversation a little closer to the end she wished to achieve.
“Even more than the younger Bennets,” said she, drawing his glance, “I esteem the elder. Miss Bennet was quite reticent and said very little to me, but I suspect she is a gentle and kind soul, while Miss Mary was lovely, for we both enjoy music. Elizabeth, however, is perhaps the best of them. She is so kind and cheerful, and she seems to know instinctively what to say to bring a response.”
Georgiana felt the heat enter her cheeks as she managed to say: “As you know, I often struggle to understand what to say. Elizabeth does not suffer from that defect.”
“No, she does not. I find she has the same effect on me.”
William regarded her, apparently trying to determine what he should say.
“So, you like Miss Elizabeth already, do you?”
“Very much,” replied Georgiana. “If I have an opportunity to associate with her long, I dare say I will look up to her.”
“That is excellent,” replied William with a warm smile, “for I intend that Miss Elizabeth will be your future sister.”
It was all Georgiana could do not to allow her dismay to show on her face. Exciting as the prospect of Elizabeth becoming her sister was, Georgiana did not think she would accept any proposal from her brother. It was the confirmation she had desired, however, so she used the opportunity at once to inform William of the salient points she had observed the previous evening.
“Oh?” asked Georgiana, feigning delight. “Then our return to Hertfordshire is to allow you to pay court to her?”
William smiled. “No, Georgiana. I have returned because I wish to propose to her.”
It was worse than Georgiana had thought! “Brother,” began she carefully, “Elizabeth does not appear to possess as much esteem for you as you do for her. Would it not be better to court her for a time?”
“What do you mean?” asked William, appearing confused.
“Did you not see how she shied away from you? Did you miss the testy comments she directed at you?”
“That is just her way,” replied William. “She has a sportive way of dealing with others. It is one of her many charms.”
“Yes, but I am certain her comments to you were sharper than others. I fear if you propose to her so precipitously you will unleash a scene that will do neither of you any favors.”
As Georgiana spoke, she had the sense that her brother, rather than being rendered more contemplative, was becoming more amused. Georgiana had more to say, but this reaction of his flustered her, such that she ceased speaking before she had offered all her arguments.
“My dear sister,” said William, “I thank you for your concern, but it is unnecessary. My acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth is far more profound than yours. Please trust me—all will be well.”
When she made a desperate attempt to speak, William put up his hand to silence her.
“You will see, my dear. Miss Elizabeth is not only an excellent woman, but she is intelligent. She knows she is unlikely to receive a proposal such as mine, and I dare say she never expected to attract a gentleman of my standing. By this afternoon, you will look forward to her as your future sister. Now, please prepare, for I wish to be on the road to Longbourn within thirty minutes.”
Georgiana suppressed a sigh, wishing her brother could hear himself speak. That Miss Elizabeth was intelligent was not in question. But William, who had decried the manners and behavior of debutants and fortune seekers since she could remember did not seem to realize what he was suggesting. How could a man who had pushed all such women—women the likes of Caroline Bingley—away from him all the years of his life not realize that he was counting on Elizabeth to accept him for no other reason than the comfortable position he could offer her? Had he not considered how he would not be happy in marriage with her if she was such a woman as to accept him for such reasons?
It appeared William was determined, so Georgiana had no choice but to do what she could to prevent disaster. Perhaps she could provoke Elizabeth to display her feelings more openly to prevent her brother from offering for her. Then surely he would see that he must improve her opinion of him before he could hope for a favorable response. Georgiana did not know if there was a chance of it, but she would not abandon her brother to humiliation and despair.
There was something strange at work, but Elizabeth could not determine what it was.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said Georgiana, taking herself to Elizabeth’s side the moment she and her brother entered the room. “How wonderful it is to see you again.”
“I am happy to see you too, Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth. She grinned at the younger woman and added: “Did we not agree to dispense with formality last night?”
The girl blushed at her reminder, but she did not hesitate to nod. Before she could say anything else, Mr. Darcy joined them.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said he. “I am pleased to be in your company again.”
A jibe was on the tip of Elizabeth’s tongue, but she noted Georgiana regarded her, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, and she refrained for the girl’s sake. “You appear eager for it, Mr. Darcy. Your sudden appearance in Hertfordshire was quite astonishing, and we have no notion of what your ‘unfinished business’ might entail.”
The gentleman fixed her with an earnest sort of regard. “If you do not already know, it will become clear shortly.”
So saying, Mr. Darcy nodded and went to greet her mother, though their exchange seemed no warmer than icy on either side. Confused as she was by Mr. Darcy’s assertions, Elizabeth’s eyes followed him, wondering, and not for the first time, what he was about.
“Regardless of my brother’s business,” said Georgiana, interrupting Elizabeth’s contemplation, “I am eager to be here.”
“As we are to have you,” replied Elizabeth.
“Elizabeth,” said Georgiana hesitantly, “I wish to ask . . . Well, I am curious what you think of my brother.”
This was not a subject Elizabeth wished to discuss, for she would not criticize the man to his angelic sister. Simultaneously, however, she did not wish to claim any sort of warmth for Mr. Darcy that she did not possess.
“It is clear Mr. Darcy is a . . . conscientious man,” said Elizabeth cautiously, though she considered him conscientious only when he wished to be.
“Perhaps we should walk out,” said Mr. Darcy, interrupting their tête-à-tête. “The day is fine—perhaps your daughters would enjoy some exercise.”
Mrs. Bennet regarded him dubiously. “Perhaps a short time on the back lawn?”
“Excellent,” said Mr. Darcy. He approached Elizabeth and bowed. “Shall you not walk with me, Miss Elizabeth?”
Amazed though she was, Elizabeth could only nod, and the Bennet sisters trooped out with their guests, Lydia and Kitty hovering around Georgiana wishing to keep her company for themselves. It seemed the girl would insist on staying with her as they walked toward the back garden until Mr. Darcy instructed her to keep the younger girls company. Thus it was that Mr. Darcy led Elizabeth a little apart from the other ladies who congregated around the old swing tied onto the branch of an ancient oak on Longbourn’s back grounds. Surprised as she was, Elizabeth said little to the gentleman, who did not appear eager to speak much either. It was perhaps five minutes of wandering before Mr. Darcy stopped and turned to face her. Elizabeth felt a frisson of unease wriggle its way up her spine.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said the gentleman, “I thank you for allowing this private interview, for I have wished to declare myself from the moment I returned to your company. Intelligent as you are, I know you have waited for this, as I most certainly have. Thus, I set my heart before your feet.”
Astonishment did not even begin to describe what Elizabeth was feeling as she heard Mr. Darcy speak to her. It felt as if all Charlotte’s assertions were coming true before her eyes, yet she could do nothing to prevent him from having his say. The longer she listened to him, the more shocked she became until that gave way to anger at his presumption.
“In declaring myself to you, I am well aware of the plans I am frustrating, the long and illustrious heritage that I betray. I have long known it my right to have the pick of the highest ladies society offers, and yet I wish to declare myself to a country miss of no consequence in the world. I do not say this to belittle but to demonstrate the strength of my feelings for you, for all the highborn ladies in the world cannot satisfy me. In the end, my absence these past weeks and attempts to forget Meryton have done little more than delay the inevitable. I harbor a passionate regard for you which no rational argument has dispelled.
“Of you, yourself, there can be no disapproval, for you are everything lovely, amiable, and engaging; as you know, my character does not allow such openness as you regularly display. Once we are married, we must take steps, of course, to improve certain members of your family, for we cannot introduce them to society as they are. As I have every confidence in you and in my ability to tolerate and improve them, I see it as no impediment to my suit. Some might consider me insensible to be contemplating such connections, but I care nothing for the opinions of others. Thus, I ask you, in all humility, to accept my hand and consent to be my wife.”
Elizabeth could not believe her ears, paralyzed with indecision. Oh, there was no question of accepting his proposal; except for Mr. Collins’s inept lovemaking, Elizabeth could not imagine a worse way to offer for a woman. No, Elizabeth was uncertain whether she should feel flattered at his praise of her, backhanded though it had been, angry at his presumption, or offended by his characterization of her family, her position, or his misguided confidence that she would fall at his feet and praise him for raising her from her wretched state to his lofty position.
The memory of Georgiana Darcy, the dear sweet girl that she was, prevented Elizabeth from telling this man what she thought of him. Instead, she attempted restraint, to inform him that his assurances were not welcome and to end this mortifying interview without further acrimony.
“I thank you, Mr. Darcy, for the honor of your proposal, but I am afraid I cannot accept it.”
The gentleman started at her refusal. “Cannot accept it? Whyever not?”
“It seems it is my lot to receive unwanted proposals,” replied Elizabeth, shaking her head with dismay.
“Unwanted?” echoed the gentleman. “Do you mean to say that you did not wish for me to propose? Did you not expect me to declare myself to you?”
“I did not,” said Elizabeth. “Given our history, I am astonished that you even thought to propose, let alone that you considered my acceptance a fait accompli.”
“What do you mean? What in our history would prevent me from offering for you?”
“It would be best, Mr. Darcy, to avoid any further discussion on this subject. For the benefit of us both, forgetting about this interview and never considering it again is our only option.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, drawing himself up to his impressive height, “as I have done you the singular honor of offering everything I have to you, you owe me at the very least an explanation for this summary rejection.”
Fire erupted in Elizabeth’s breast, the heat of anger unlike any she had ever known. This man wanted an explanation? Then she would give him one!
“Very well,” said she, her reply near to a snarl. “Then perhaps I should refer you back to our arguments at Netherfield Park, how we have difficulty tolerating each other for more than a few moments without descending into rancor, or your early opinion of me. Or shall I speak of how you have ruined forever the happiness of a most beloved sister? Perhaps you will push the blame onto Mr. Bingley’s sisters, but I know enough of you and them to understand that you are as much a factor in Mr. Bingley jilting my sister as Miss Bingley. If that all is not enough, then perhaps I should remind you of your betrayal of a young man who never did you any harm other than to be your father’s protégé. Even then it was not enough to reduce him to poverty, but you also forced him from his position and spirited him away to parts unknown.”
Mr. Darcy’s face hardened into implacable anger. “Do not speak of that libertine, for you do not know of what he is capable.”
“Nor do you,” snapped Elizabeth. “Had you left him alone, he may have surprised you with what he could become.”
“I know exactly what he will become,” rejoined Mr. Darcy. “At some time or another, his ways will catch up to him and he will end with a band of citizens hunting him down and condemning him to the gallows.”
Elizabeth glared at him. “Yes, I see your implacable resentment toward him, and I weep for him, for what he might have been. In all honesty, though that might be the greater offense, it is less damaging to me and my family than your actions toward Mr. Bingley. Unless, of course, you wish to feign innocence in that matter as well.”
Mr. Darcy’s lip curled, and he turned to pace. “What I said to Bingley was for the best. He is a good friend. Why would I allow him to make a colossal mistake and offer for a woman who does not care for him?”
“In that, you are incorrect, little though I think it would matter. Jane is desolate because Mr. Bingley failed to return. You have wholly misjudged her.”
Mr. Darcy regarded her uncertain if he should take her at her word. Knowing this confrontation would almost certainly end any possibility of future reconciliation between them, Elizabeth shook her head.
“Yours is the second proposal I have received in the last month, Mr. Darcy, and I can no more accept yours than I accepted Mr. Collins’s assurances.”
Again, the gentleman gawked at her. “Mr. Collins proposed?”
“Perhaps it is no surprise that you saw nothing of it,” replied Elizabeth wearily. “He proposed, and I rejected him. Mayhap I should reconsider, for if I married Mr. Collins, I would marry a dullard who would make me miserable. At least I would not marry a man who cares for nothing but himself. I will not subject myself to a marriage where my husband actively disdains me.”
Mr. Darcy was at a loss for what to say, his anger having drained, leaving disbelief in its wake. Though she feared he would press his suit, Mr. Darcy did the most sensible thing he could have done under the situation. He straightened, bowed, and offered his regrets.
