Fault or Virtue: An Imaginative Retelling of Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice' (13 page)

Elizabeth began her walk earlier than usual the next morning, eager to explore the
extensive grounds and unable to sleep after the uncomfortable night. She could hardly
believe the awkwardness of the visit. How could she be in the same place as the man that
meant to make her his mistress while he was visiting his betrothed and extended family?
This was far worse than the slight discomfort she felt in the presence of Mr. Collins. She
explored any possibilities of excusing herself from the visit early, but found none that
were plausible under the circumstances. She hoped that they would not be invited to dine
at Rosings the remainder of her visit. Just as the sun rose completely over the neighboring
hills, she saw a figure approaching her. An icy cold shiver ran down her spine, fearing it
was Darcy. Seconds later, however, she realized it was Colonel Fitzwilliam and she
breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good morning, Miss Bennet. I’m very surprised to see anyone else up and
about,” he said pleasantly.
“As am I, Colonel,” she smiled back and he took her arm to escort her down the
path.
“I fear that you may have viewed my family solely in an unfavorable light, Miss
Bennet,” he began, “and where I cannot defend my aunt, I hope to be able to lessen the
offences of my cousin Darcy.”
“You are a military man, Colonel, and therefore I understand your desire to
defend, but where Mr. Darcy is concerned, he must act for himself.” Elizabeth was
surprised and disappointed that the subject had turned in this direction, and hoped to be
finished with any discussion involving Mr. Darcy as quickly as possible.
“Defending would be too much for his sake, Miss Bennet. He is much better
situated and built than I for that. However, I had just desired to mention that, although he
is well known is our circles to wear a nearly constant scowl, his mood has been much
worse of late, due to some recent events and I fear the expression might become
permanent.” She stole a glance at him to see he was trying to make light of a serious
situation, and she thanked him silently for it. She had already begun to feel that she and
the Colonel had much in common.
“As fine as his features would be if he smiled, I daresay the appeal of his fortune
does not suffer for it.”
“One of the many advantages of a good income. But I happen to know that
fortune hunters are one of the reasons for his dark mood. He has only just tried to
separate one of his best friends from such a lady, but his attempts were thwarted when
she followed them from her country home to London!” The Colonel laughed and did not
indicate that he would continue. Elizabeth’s face colored at the realization that he could
only be talking about Bingley and Jane.
“Did he give a reason for the interference?” she asked pointedly.
“There were objections to her family and to her state of interest in the man, yes.
But when the marriage was announced, he seemed inclined to believe there was some
affection after all. So perhaps it will not end miserably.”
“No, but it sounds as if it almost had,” she mumbled, lost in a torrent of emotions
and thoughts.
“Darcy is a most loyal companion,” he offered when she had grown silent.

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“I wonder that he does not marry himself, when he has so much romantic advice
to offer others,” she blurted out without thinking, adding, “Surely his cousin would
appreciate such loyalty.”

He shot her a confused look and answered after another moment lost in laughter.
“Anne, you mean?” he laughed again, “no, no, no, that will never be.”
Elizabeth could think of no answer. She knew not what to make of this bit of

news.
“He, like most of his station and wealth,” the Colonel offered, “will marry a
grand, beautiful, intelligent, and most fortunate young lady.” He looked at her when he
said this and she blushed slightly, perceiving it as a warning. Since she had shown no
sign of feelings towards Mr. Darcy, this could only mean that Darcy had confessed their
history and the Colonel was attempting to relate the same warning that Wickham had
spelled out for her, only in a more delicate fashion. She was extremely embarrassed that
the Colonel knew of their past indiscretion, but even more so that he was aware of
Darcy’s intentions.
“I have always been grateful, as you may be too, that my inconsequential station
has allowed me a shield from public scrutiny. How I would hate to be the object of any
notice or unwarranted criticism.” She hoped this would settle the matter. And just as she
began to think that the topic of conversation might turn in another direction, the current
subject joined them in the walk.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth,” bowed Mr. Darcy, “Fitzwilliam,” he nodded to
his cousin.
“Sleep in, Darce?” asked Fitzwilliam jovially.
“You are well aware that I meant to walk out with you but that I was caught alone
with our aunt’s steward when you skulked off quite quickly down the lane,” he shot the
Colonel an almost playful look. If Elizabeth hadn’t been made so uncomfortable by the
recent topic of discussion, she would have enjoyed watching the interaction of the
cousins.
“I will not deny it,” the Colonel laughed, “and I have found Miss Bennet’s
company much more enjoyable than that of our aunt’s steward.” He raised his eyebrows
at Darcy, who narrowed his eyes at him in turn.
“Did you not have an equal chance of getting away, Mr. Darcy? You must both be
familiar with the grounds having visited so often.”
This earned smiles from both gentleman and she was glad to have lightened the
mood.
“Do not forget my military training, Miss Elizabeth,” the Colonel reminded her.
They continued on in this playful manner for a little while longer until the Colonel
excused himself to attend to some letters up at the house. She waited for Darcy to second
his leave, but did so in vain. She and Darcy continued on together, quite alone, and quite
silent.
“I beg you to satisfy my curiosity, Mr. Darcy, I have heard so much of Pemberley
from Miss Bingley, how does it compare to Rosings?” she knew Pemberley might be one
topic about which they could hold a lengthy conversation.
“I had expected a question about the stark differences between my cousin
Fitzwilliam and myself,” he answered.

“That was my next topic of conversation, Mr. Darcy,” she raised an eyebrow at
him.
“I will feign surprise when it arises again, then,” he smiled widely back at her,
causing her uneasiness.
Mr. Darcy went on to describe Pemberley in a very delicate fashion. It was
obvious to Elizabeth that his home was a great point of pride and passion for him, but he
attempted to hide the fact. They had neared the parsonage when their conversation had
finished and he stopped to address her face to face.
“I am sorry I rambled on so about my home that we did not get to a discussion of
my cousin,” he shifted his weight uncomfortably and looked as though he wished to say
something else. Elizabeth was grateful that he did not, whatever it was.
“I found your descriptions very engaging, Mr. Darcy, please do not apologize. We
may save the conversation for another day, otherwise I will press your cousin for the
answers if he makes it out of the house before you again.” Darcy’s face pulled into a
slight smile, and an irresistible dimple appeared.
“I do not foresee that happening, Miss Elizabeth, I am far too eager to answer
your questions.” He bowed and took his leave of her.

The next morning, she was not completely taken by surprise to see both
gentlemen approaching her.
“Miss Elizabeth!” the Colonel boomed, “I was just remarking to Darcy that we
have never passed a more pleasant time at Rosings.”
“Surely I hope that you do not mean to assign the pleasantness of the visit to me,”
she fixed the gentlemen with a mock-serious expression.
“I hope we are capable of such flattery, Miss Elizabeth,” said the Colonel, “and
we also come with an invitation to dine at Rosings this evening.”
“How kind of you. However, I’m afraid I can only relate my gratitude, I cannot
accept on behalf of my cousin. Though I don’t imagine he will refuse. When I had first
planned my visit to the area, these fine evenings were the last thing I expected.”
“I hope we have not disturbed your quiet visit, Miss Elizabeth,” said Fitzwilliam,
“but I am rather surprised at your not knowing of our presence, having just seen Darcy in
London.”
“You are mistaken, I did not foresee the pleasure,” Elizabeth said, just in time to
catch Fitzwilliam shoot Darcy a questioning look.
The remainder of the stroll passed pleasantly. Fitzwilliam, she found, was always
pleasant company, and Darcy was nearly a different person in his presence. He was
relaxed, even jovial. Together, they pieced together amusing stories from their childhood
spent at Rosings leaving Elizabeth to wonder why Darcy was so different from his cousin
when out of his company. She silently reflected on her own behavior and found that no
such inconstancy existed for herself. She was most comfortable with Jane and her father,
of course, but company, new or old, did not alter her. She wondered if pride or shyness
had more to do with Darcy’s reserve amongst the people in Meryton.
Colonel Fitzwilliam excused himself early as he had done the day before, leaving
Mr. Darcy to take Elizabeth’s arm.
“I am delighted at your friendship with my cousin, Miss Elizabeth,” he said,
studying her expression.

“He is very entertaining,” she offered, unsure of where this conversation would
take them.
“However, your introduction to my aunt has afforded me the most pleasure. You
managed to deflect her every comment,” he smiled widely, remembering some of the
repartee, “but I am sorry to have not expected this from you initially.”
“You make me sound like a horrid guest, Mr. Darcy.”
“On the contrary, you entertained the majority. The hostess will either be made
better for it, or we’ll have to settle for it merely providing a humorous spectacle. I had to
congratulate Fitzwilliam for remaining so dignified during the meal, he could hardly
remain from laughing,” he turned to her with a most thrilled expression such as she had
never seen before. The worry had vanished from his face. She had known he was
handsome, but he had never appeared so careless and unguarded before. He had never
looked so young. The dimples that she had so rarely glimpsed appeared again and she
blushed realizing she had been admiring him for so long.
“You are too kind, Mr. Darcy,” their eyes met and Elizabeth felt the same charge
between them that had radiated in the moments before their kiss. She backed away selfconsciously, knowing her embarrassment was obvious. “Have you heard anything of Mr.
Bingley?” she said, hoping to ease the tension.
“Only fleeting and poorly written letters from which I can only gather that he is
very happy,” he stepped closer to her, and she realized the fault in her subject choice,
“and what of your sister?” he returned politely.
She needed to return to the parsonage as soon as possible.
“I find her letters much the same, but now I am reminded that I have not opened
or responded to her latest one, and so I must return to the parsonage if I hope to have it
finished and sent before we are to call at Rosings.”
Darcy looked disappointed but did nothing to stop her. As they made their way
towards the parsonage, Elizabeth could only be certain of one thing: she would not be
going to Rosings that night.

That evening, Elizabeth excused herself from the party claiming a headache. She
was sad that she would not be seeing the Colonel, but knew keeping Darcy at a distance
was the best option. She took a short walk around their garden and rested on a bench
opposite the house. She closed her eyes for a few moments but was startled when she
heard footsteps approaching her.

“Miss Elizabeth,” breathed a rather haggard Darcy, “are you well?” The concern
in his face was obvious and his gentle expression was almost too much for Elizabeth to
bear. It was past nightfall and the moonlight cast a most remarkable shine on his eyes.

“Mr. Darcy! Surely you are missed, sir, I had only a slight headache and did not
feel up to attending. Please do not worry on my account.”
“I am far too selfish not to worry about you, Miss Elizabeth,” he whispered,
sitting down next to her.
“If you are here to escort me to Rosings, I must decline. And I must insist that you
return alone immediately.”

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“That is not my errand, Miss Elizabeth. And you must excuse me for coming
upon you so suddenly, but I had to see you,” he fixed her with a dark expression and her
stomach tensed, “I could not stay away.”

She fought the impulse to run away, but she could not find many reasons for
staying still. Her breathing became heavy, her face hot, and she began to fear she would
not be conscious for much longer.

“I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer,” suddenly burst from
Darcy’s lips, “you must allow me to express how ardently I love you, how I have loved
you. It has been so long now I can hardly remember when it first began, but my better
judgment has kept me from approaching you. There are matters which should have us
separated forever, Elizabeth. Your family, your want of connections, your lack of fortune,
these are just some of the obstacles my affections have overcome…” he paused to look
off into the distance. As his words sunk in, her awareness sharpened. She was no longer
uneasy or lightheaded, she was absolutely infuriated. Surely no one could entertain the
offer of becoming his mistress if they were to be slighted, humiliated, and insulted in
such a way! At least she was certain that he had never made such an offer before. She
thought back with sudden endearment to Mr. Collins’ proposal. At least his demeaning
ramble ended with a proposal of marriage and not one of ruin!

“Please do not speak another word of our differences or my imperfections, Mr.
Darcy. It is not lending towards your cause. You can have my answer now, as you could
have had it months ago before we were ever introduced, I will not become your
mistress.” She stood up forcefully and launched herself towards the house.