Abigail Reynolds - To Conquer Mr. Darcy

“Of course, I had forgotten that Mr. Darcy is never wrong,” said Elizabeth bitterly. “It is a shame that he has to suffer the responsibility of making these important decisions for everyone else. Please excuse me, Mr. Bingley; I fear that I am not civil company at the moment.”

Jane and Bingley looked after her retreating back with consternation.

Darcy could not decide if he was angrier at himself for not handling the situation better or at Elizabeth for refusing to hear him out. He had expected it to be difficult, but not disastrous; unfortunately, it would appear that he had been incorrect in that regard. The look on Elizabeth’s face when he left haunted him—the coolness, the anger, the rejection of it. What a way to start their separation! By the time she reached Pemberley, who knew if she would be thinking, or if she would even follow through on the agreed-upon visit. God, how could it have gone so badly so quickly?

He went directly to his rooms upon their return to Netherfield, not trusting himself in the event of meeting Miss Bingley. Throwing himself down in a chair, he drummed his fingers on the arm as he tried to decide on a course of action. He had to find some way to speak to Elizabeth before her departure, but would she even agree to speak with him? Perhaps he could see her early the next morning before she and the Gardiners departed.

An image of her from the previous day rose before him, of the smile on her face when she first saw him, then changed into the cool look she gave him from the door at Longbourn. He dropped his head into his hands.

He knew one thing only. He must make peace with her before she left.

“Lizzy, my child, sit down,” said Mr. Bennet when Elizabeth appeared in the library in response to his summons. “I have just been subjected to a most dramatic rendition of the current news from Meryton, which I fear is mostly concerning you. It appears that there is general agreement that you and Mr. Darcy are on intimate terms, with what are said to be several examples of times that he has been seen kissing and embracing you. Would you care to tell me the truth of this matter?”

Elizabeth felt that there was little point in denying it; although no doubt much of the gossip was fiction, there was certainly truth enough to it, and the behavior of Darcy and Bingley only supported it. “No, sir, I have nothing to say on the matter.”

With a deep sigh, Mr. Bennet removed his glasses. “I am now completely mystified. If I am not mistaken, last autumn your pointed dislike of Mr. Darcy and his complete indifference to you were well known to everyone. Half a year later he returns, apparently with some kind of interest in you, and this seems to surprise you not at all, and in fact you seem to choose to spend considerable time with him. Then, today, he announces his intentions, and you become angry and deny that you have an understanding. Then we are given to understand that the entire neighborhood is talking about the compromising positions you and he have been caught in, and you make no attempt to refute it. Now, this would seem to be an excellent plot for a comic opera, but I would be most appreciative if you could make some sense out of it for me.”

“You seem to have the facts well in hand, sir. I assume that you have something more to say to me than to recite history.”

“Lizzy, I am not seeking to anger you. I would like, for the sake of my own comfort, to ascertain the state of your affections towards Mr. Darcy, but I have no doubt that you see as clearly as do I that under the circumstances I have little choice as to my course of action.”

“And what would that be, sir?”

Mr. Bennet massaged his temples. It distressed him more than he could say to see his favorite child in this state, and not to be allowed to offer her comfort or understanding. “You will have to marry him, Lizzy. I can only hope that this is more palatable to you than it seems at the moment.”

She looked him in the eye, having already reached this conclusion on her own. “Is there anything else, sir?” she asked levelly.

Standing, he sighed, and walked over to her and placed a kiss on her forehead. “No, there is not, except to say that I am always available if you would like to speak further of this, and that I do want the best for you, Lizzy.”

She softened slightly, sorry to see his pain for the position in which she had put herself. “I know,” she said quietly.

Elizabeth declined to join the family for dinner, pleading a headache and the need to complete her preparations for her departure on the morrow. Although her natural high spirits were beginning to reassert themselves somewhat, she felt unequal to the challenge of being the focus of everyone’s attention, especially her mother and her aunt Phillips. She was also embarrassed to be the subject of a scandal, and would prefer not to know any further details of the rumors. Her hope was that she could learn to make the best of an unfortunate situation, and she reminded herself firmly that although her marriage to Darcy was destined to be conflictual, at least there was a basis of affection underneath. She now regretted refusing to hear him out that afternoon. It was not a promising beginning to what was bound to be a long series of compromises, and, if she were to be completely honest, she found it upsetting that they had parted on such a hostile note.

Mrs. Bennet did not appear to miss her daughter, since her presence was not necessary to a discussion of the wonderful match she had made, and how every mother in the district would be envious. If Elizabeth wished to hide in her room rather than to display her conquest, it was of no importance to her mother.

However, it was a different matter entirely after dinner when Mr. Darcy chose to call, requesting to speak with Elizabeth despite the unseemly hour. After all, he had apparently not actually proposed yet, and Mrs. Bennet was certainly not going to permit any possible opportunity for that to be bypassed, regardless of headache or heartache. She appeared at her daughter’s door, demanding her presence to speak to Mr. Darcy, fussing over her hair and gown, all while insisting that she make haste and not keep the gentleman waiting. Elizabeth could not but be amused by her mother’s machinations, especially when she discovered that, in complete disregard for propriety, her mother expected her to meet Darcy in the rear sitting room rather than joining the other guests.

Darcy was standing by the window, looking serious, and twisting the ring on his finger. Elizabeth, feeling it would be beneficial to set a more positive tone, said lightly, “You appear to have an ally, sir. I believe that had I not cooperated in coming down immediately, my mother would have used a horsewhip!”

Relaxing slightly at this evidence that her anger had abated, he said, “I am sorry to hear that you have been feeling unwell.”

She shook her head. “I am well enough. I did not feel the inclination to be in company this evening.”

“I am sorry then to disturb you.” He felt unequal to exchanging these distant pleasantries with her after reliving her rejection for hours. He could not bear to face the withdrawal of her affections. If he lost her now, he did not know how he would survive it. He crossed the room and took both her hands in his. “I came to beg your understanding and forgiveness. I do not wish to part as we did.”

Elizabeth hesitated. She had to explain her need to be involved in decisions, and her intent was to be pleasant and calm with him as she clarified her problems with his behavior and her future expectations. She had not anticipated, however, how painful it would be to be in his presence with a quarrel between them, nor how much she would long for a resolution of the sense of betrayal she still felt. She wanted more than anything else to throw herself into his arms, but was resolved not to continue their past neglect of proprieties, given the difficulties it had already caused. “Nor do I, and I am glad that it is important to you as well.”

“There is nothing more important to me than you,” he said softly.

She cast her eyes down in embarrassment. “I…”

“And I deeply regret that my actions led to this outcome.”

“Mr. Darcy,” she said uncomfortably, “I appreciate your apology, but I believe that we must discuss the matter somewhat further, as I fear that otherwise we may face ongoing difficulties. I would prefer to resolve the matter now, if you are willing.”

“As you wish, of course,” he said cautiously, an element of fear beginning to settle in him. “What do you wish to discuss?”

“I fear that we have differing understandings of why the events of today were upsetting for me, so I would ask for clarification of the reason for your apology.”

His heart sank. “For upsetting you, and for being sufficiently lacking in self-control that there could be grounds for these rumors in the first place.”

“But not, apparently, for what you said.”

His pride reasserted itself. “I am sorry that it upset you, and that it put you in a difficult position. I do not see that I had any choice—at least any honorable one—but to say what I did.”

She took a deep breath. “Had you seen fit to consult me, I might even have agreed, but you did not see fit to consult me. Please bear in mind in the future that I expect to be involved in decisions that concern me to this extent, whether or not you see any choice in the matter.”

The rush of relief he felt at her reference to the future was great. “I… will endeavor to do my best, because I do value your opinion, Miss Bennet. Had there been an opportunity in this case, I certainly would have informed you of my plans.”