Consequences (2 page)

They also left him without benefit of their sage advice when he found himself attracted to a young lady who, despite being the daughter of a respectable gentleman, otherwise did not satisfy the criteria his parents and other family members intended. Miss Bennet’s family was undistinguished, and her father’s income had not sufficed to allow for a respectable dowry. Yet Darcy’s mind, in fact his whole being, was now so focused on this bewitching young lady that he eventually arrived at the realization he could no longer contemplate a life without her at his side.

He believed he had escaped her attraction when he departed Hertfordshire the previous autumn, then he arrived for his yearly visit to his Aunt Catherine only to find her ensconced at the Hunsford Parsonage, visiting the newly married Mrs. Collins. Perhaps it was his complete astonishment at meeting her again that affected him so strongly. But whatever the cause, Darcy knew he would never forget the vision of her when he and his cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam arrived to visit the ladies. So severe was the shock on his first sight of Miss Bennet’s attractive form and her expressive face that he almost imagined himself struck by lightning. The sound of her velvety soprano voice brought back all his suppressed emotions, and he had not passed an unsettled moment since that initial meeting.

Now he intended to violate every precept he had been taught about selecting the proper wife by offering marriage to this enchanting, but otherwise completely unsuitable, young lady.

And yet, it did not matter to him—not in the slightest. He simply could not go on without her. He yearned to see her every day, to talk to her in the privacy and security of their home, to kiss those lovely lips, to make her smile, to hear her laugh. Nothing else mattered. Only by finalizing this step, which would certainly be censured by most of his family and many of his friends, could he calm his spirit and remove the turmoil from his life.

Another component of his present tumult was that his plan to make a marriage proposal to Miss Bennet had depended on her attending tea at his aunt’s house with her cousin and her friend. Mr. Collins delivered the news that Miss Bennet was feeling ill in his usual, obsequious manner, clearly apprehensive that his patron might express her disapproval in her usual, forthright manner. Lady Catherine, however, took the news with no discernible emotion, only nodding in comprehension before returning to her concern of two quarrelling families in the village. Her nephew, however, received this unwelcome news with dismay, though he believed he managed to prevent any outward sign of discomfiture.

Is she ill?
he asked himself worriedly.
She must be; it is the only explanation. She would not otherwise stay away. Indeed, she is expecting me to make my assurances, and we have only another day before we leave. My attentions have been too marked to be misinterpreted by a young lady of Miss Bennet’s acumen.

He could not put his worry to rest. The longer he thought on her absence, the more concerned he became, and eventually he managed to slip away unnoticed.

Or almost unnoticed, that is. His aunt was too engrossed in her lecture to observe his quiet departure, but his cousin Fitzwilliam looked over at him and raised his eyebrows in question. Darcy shook his head minutely and exited the drawing-room before claiming his hat and gloves from his room.

The sudden sight of the gate to the Parsonage brought Darcy out of his reverie, and a moment later he knocked on the front door. He danced from foot to foot in his impatience as it took several minutes before one of the servants opened the door.

“Miss Bennet, please,” Darcy said, hardly aware of the imperious tone in his voice, although apparently having no effect on the girl.

“I believe she might be in the drawing-room,” said the maid negligently, giving a vague wave toward the rear of the house. She took Darcy’s hat and gloves, deposited them on a table by the door, and then disappeared through the door to the kitchen, leaving Darcy to stare after her in disapproval.

Then, since he knew the way, he quickly moved to the open door and entered the room, immensely relieved to find Miss Bennet sitting by herself reading a letter. She looked up promptly, and surprise was evident on her face as she recognized him.

Surprise?
he thought in confusion.
Why should she be thus? Surely, she must have known I would come.

Then he wondered whether she expected him to attend her the following day, the last day before he and Fitzwilliam departed. This thought settled his nerves, and he looked at her with pleasure, completely unaware of his long-ago disparagement of her beauty. He was unclear just how his assessment had changed, but he now considered Miss Elizabeth Bennet one of the handsomest women of his acquaintance.

“Miss Bennet, your cousin said you stayed behind because you were unwell. I do hope you are feeling better.”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy, my headache has diminished,” she said. Darcy was disturbed by her cool civility. He looked at her and tried to say something, but his thoughts were in such a whirl that he could not make his mouth form the words. He sat down, but his inner chaos would not permit him to remain stationary. He rose and walked about the room, conscious of the way Miss Bennet’s eyes followed him while she remained silent. Back and forth he walked, perturbed that the speech he wanted to deliver would not come. He had been more than eloquent in his thoughts the previous night and morning, but now he was struck dumb.

This will not do!
he thought in agony.
I must say something—I must get out the words before I can begin to live again!

Finally, he blurted, “In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

The impact of this statement certainly brought a change in Miss Bennet’s demeanour! She flushed prettily and sat bolt upright in her chair, looking at Darcy intently, and he was naturally encouraged to continue.

“I cannot emphasize how very dear you are to me, Miss Bennet. I was initially attracted by your intelligence and your depth of feeling, which was exemplified by your attendance on your sister at Netherfield when she was so very ill. Others may have scorned a three-mile walk through the rain as being unsuitable for a young lady of breeding, but while I would not wish my own sister to act in such a manner, I was enchanted by the blush of your cheeks and the brightness of your eyes.”

The words came easier to Darcy now, and he dwelt at length on how his attraction had grown, despite the clear difference between their different spheres, until he had come to the realization that she was the woman with whom he desired to spend the rest of his life.

“Understandably, there will be those in my family and among my friends who would counsel that I should select a wife from a family of distinction or wealth, for such is the common belief of our class. In fact, by making this choice, I am even going against what I have at times recommended to others. But those beliefs have been banished by the love I have for you, and while I commiserate with those who will be wounded by my choice, they will simply have to come to an understanding—my choice of a wife is mine to make.”

As he spoke, Darcy could see that Miss Bennet listened most intently, her eyes never leaving his. Her face appeared composed, but he was well aware, from small changes in her expression, that many thoughts were running through her consciousness. It was understandable, considering the wide gulf she was about to bridge in becoming his wife, but he had the utmost confidence she would manage the transition with grace and charm. Her inner strength of character, her steadfastness, her loyalty, indeed her courage, were among the attributes that played their part in capturing his affections.

“In conclusion, Miss Bennet, my love and devotion are such that they have conquered all my doubts and hesitations and brought me to your side this evening. I hope you will do me the kindness of relieving my apprehension and anxiety and reward my attachment by your acceptance of my hand in marriage.”

There! It is done!
he thought triumphantly. He had never been comfortable in making those conversations that many others seemed to find so easy, but his task was complete. Perhaps now, especially with Miss Bennet at his side, it would become easier as time went by. He knew he must marry in order to secure an heir for his estates and properties, but he had been unwilling to make a selection from all those fashionable women who had thrown themselves at him over the years. Bingley’s sister Caroline was only the latest of an unending stream, and despite his aversion to her obsequiousness and petty spite, she was not even the worst of the young ladies he managed to evade. But now that dreadful period of his life was at an end; now he could start to live his life as it ought to be lived!

Since he had finished speaking, Miss Bennet lowered her eyes to her hands, clenching a handkerchief in her lap. When she finally looked up at him to speak, he wondered what emotion was causing her to twist the handkerchief so fervently and triggering the colour to rise in her cheeks.

“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned.”

What was that she said?
Darcy thought in shock. ‘
However unequally they may be returned’? Of what is she speaking?

“It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you,” said Miss Bennet firmly, and Darcy could only stare at her in blank confusion as she continued. “But I cannot—I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation.”

Darcy felt a black wave of disaster sweep over him as he leaned against the mantelpiece, staring at her with the fixity of a man staring into a highwayman’s pistol. That blackness engendered an almost instantaneous rage as he realized the woman he just deigned to offer to share his life had thrown his generous proposal back in his face! It took all his self-control to rein in his anger, and he was uncomfortably aware he was only partially successful in his endeavour. His jaws ached as he clenched his teeth against the urge to lash back at the person who now destroyed his hopes, and long moments limped by before he could trust himself to speak.

“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting!” he said tightly. “I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”

This statement, with its assumption of Mr. Darcy’s being the aggrieved party, was too much for Elizabeth. She had restrained her anger until this moment, but now it flared to full blossom. In fact, she had been angry most of the afternoon since returning from a stroll with Colonel Fitzwilliam. During their walk, he had disclosed, in defence of his cousin, that Mr. Darcy had reason to congratulate himself on, as he said, saving his close friend, whom he supposed was Mr. Bingley, “from the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage.” And, upon Elizabeth inquiring as to the reason for Mr. Darcy’s interference, Colonel Fitzwilliam answered innocently, “There were some very strong objections against the lady.”

Although the colonel may have been ignorant of the lady’s identity, Elizabeth knew at once that the lady in question was her dear sister Jane, the most affectionate, generous heart in the world.

She previously held the opinion that Mr. Bingley’s sisters had the major share of accomplishing the breaking of her sister’s heart, but now she knew that Mr. Darcy was to blame for all Jane’s suffering. And he boasted of his actions to his cousin! As to the “very strong objections,” they were likely the hideous crime of having one uncle who was a country attorney and another who was in business in London!

She had been hard pressed to conceal her anger from the amiable Colonel Fitzwilliam, who imparted this information in a light and jesting tone, but it was such a fitting picture of Mr. Darcy that she had not trusted herself to answer and thus abruptly changed the subject. They had talked on indifferent matters until they reached the Parsonage, and when she had gained the safety of her own room, she thought on what she had heard without interruption. The more she considered her new information, the brighter her anger flamed, and it had not diminished. And now, this man, who so smugly congratulated himself, wanted her to marry him? It was entirely inconceivable!

All her remembrances flickered through her mind, and she shot back, her cheeks still coloured and her dark eyes flashing, “I might as well inquire why, with so evident a design of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my own feelings decided against you—had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?”

Darcy clenched his teeth again to forestall an angry rejoinder as he contemplated the injustice that his efforts to help a friend were part of the reason for Miss Bennet’s astonishing rejection of his offer.