Read Mr. Darcy's Proposal Online
Authors: Susan Mason-Milks
Tags: #Romance, #darcy, #austen whatif, #Regency, #pride and prejudice, #elizabeth bennet, #austen
No, he loved her, and for some reason he knew that would not alter. She was now such a part of him that he could not give her up. Taking the more difficult course of trying to change her opinion of him was the right choice. He resolved to find a way to win her love no matter how long it took. The question was how to do it. In taking on this challenge, he knew instinctively that he might have to put aside his pride. He only hoped that she might do the same.
Elizabeth and her family would be in great difficulty if her father died. A picture formed in his mind of that toady Mr. Collins to whom the family estate was entailed going to Longbourn to throw them out. He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath at the horror of that image. While he did not especially like Elizabeth’s family, he knew their predicament would cause her pain—and that was something he would do anything to prevent. Elizabeth, her mother, and sisters would be forced to rely on the generosity of any relative who could provide financial assistance and protection. What would happen to Elizabeth? What choices did she have? All of her options were too unbearable for him to contemplate. Would she live the rest of her life in reduced circumstances? Seek employment as a governess? Or worst of all, marry someone like Collins for security.
Darcy knew her well enough to be certain it would be against all her principles to marry simply for money. Also, he thought about Mrs. Collins who had married that foolish little parson when she had seemed like such a sensible young woman. Would Elizabeth do the same and marry for security? She would not do it for her own benefit or convenience, but for her family she would undoubtedly make any sacrifice no matter the personal cost. There was no doubt this was a weak moment because of her family’s situation. If she were going to marry to save her family, why should it not be to him?
Looking at her across the carriage, he promised himself that if she accepted him, he would court her properly. He would take things slowly and not force himself on her in spite of the fact that the temptation she presented was almost too much to bear. Darcy blushed as he contemplated how he longed to touch her, kiss her, hold her, and have her in his bed. For some reason, he was certain that with patience he would be able to change her mind about him, and she might even come to love him. He refused to believe he had been entirely wrong in thinking there was an attraction between them. In his heart, he knew that his own future happiness depended entirely on securing Elizabeth as his wife. Her lightness of spirit and love of laughter and life seemed to draw him out and balance his more serious nature.
Darcy was jolted from his reverie when the carriage hit a rut in the road. Looking out the window, he realized they were nearing the small inn where they always stopped to rest and take some refreshment on the way to London.
When their driver pulled up in front of the inn, a boy came running to take care of the horses. Obviously the lad recognized the coach, and he seemed eager to assist probably in hopes of a large tip from the rich gentlemen. Darcy stepped down from the carriage and turned to offer Elizabeth assistance.
Once her feet were on the ground, Darcy was reluctant to let go of her hand fearing she would refuse if he offered her his arm to walk in. So instead he simply tucked her hand under his arm and guided her toward the inn.
***
The Wild Swan was small, but neat and cozy, and the food was above the usual quality available on the road. They ate some light fare with Elizabeth barely touching anything except her tea. Fitzwilliam, always eager for conversation, talked easily with the innkeeper as he was still getting little encouragement from his companions.
It was clear to Elizabeth that the gentlemen stopped here regularly. She half-listened as they talked of the weather, changes in the small town since their last visit, and Colonel Fitzwilliam’s opinions about the possibilities of war. Darcy mainly remained silent.
After picking politely at her food for a while, Elizabeth excused herself and wandered out through the wide double doors into the little garden at the side of the building. There was a certain satisfaction in stretching her legs after being confined to the carriage for several hours. Seeking the warmth of the sun, she followed a small stone pathway further into the garden. Even in her distress, she could not help but notice how someone lovingly attended the plants and trees in the walled garden. It was spring and a small fruit tree near the door was beginning to bloom. Being near nature always eased her mind. All I have to do is breathe in, breathe out, and I will get through this, she thought.
“Are you feeling unwell, Miss Bennet?”
She almost jumped when she heard his voice. Turning, she saw Darcy looking at her with real concern.
“You did not touch your food. Perhaps I could ask the cook to pack a small basket in case you should become hungry later,” he offered.
“Thank you, that is very thoughtful of you, sir.”
“I remember how I felt when I lost my own parents. It was a very dark time for me.”
Elizabeth was surprised that he would reveal anything of such a very personal nature to her. Indulging her natural curiosity, she inquired, “How old were you when your father passed?”
“I believe I was a little older than you are now. Are you and your father very close?”
“Oh, yes. We love to talk about books and often enjoy a game of chess. Of all my sisters, Father and I are the most alike in our interests and the turn of our minds. I only hope I am in time to speak with him and give him some comfort in his illness,” she said.
“Forgive me for being too personal, but I understand from my aunt that your family estate is entailed to Mr. Collins.”
She knew she should be upset that he had knowledge of this very personal information. She certainly should have been appalled that he had mentioned it to her, but her need to talk to someone at this moment took precedence over propriety. After all, she would never see Mr. Darcy again after today.
“We shall all be at the whim of Mr. Collins. I am sure he will want us out of the house
post haste
once it becomes his. I always knew it would come to this. I just did not think it would be so soon. What a great irony!”
“Irony?” said Darcy looking puzzled.
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment wondering how much to say. What was it about this enigmatic man that made her feel as if she could confide in him when she did not even like him very much?
“The morning after the ball at Netherfield last fall, Mr. Collins made me an offer of marriage, and I refused him. If I had accepted, my family’s security would now be ensured.”
“Surely, you have no regrets,” said Darcy.
“No regrets,” she said with half a smile, “especially after spending time at Hunsford. Charlotte made her choice, and I made mine. Let us just say I am easily amused by the twists and turns that life can take.”
“Perhaps something will happen to change your family’s fortunes after all,” he said looking at her intensely.
Elizabeth held his gaze, but could not quite grasp what he was implying. The only thing she could think of that might save them would be an advantageous marriage by her or one of her sisters. As it stood, there was no possibility of that happening any time soon. Jane had already lost her chance with Bingley thanks to Darcy’s interference.
As she tried to form a polite response, she saw that he continued to look at her in that impenetrable manner of his. It occurred to her that maybe he was truly sorry he had come between Bingley and her sister. Could he be planning to attempt to somehow correct the situation? Suddenly, the garden began to swim before her eyes. “I believe I am more tired that I realized. I need to sit,” she said.
Darcy took her arm, eased her down onto a garden bench, and sat beside her. Elizabeth put her head in her hands, and although she had promised herself not to cry in front of Mr. Darcy again, she could not control her tears. This time they were more tears of frustration than anything else.
Darcy immediately offered a clean handkerchief from his pocket. “Of course, if this continues, I shall have to order more from my tailor,” he said quietly.
Elizabeth looked up at him in astonishment. This was the second time he had attempted to ease the situation with a small bit of humor.
“Yes, quite soon I shall have a whole collection,” she replied. Darcy smiled at her, and for the first time, she saw how truly handsome he was.
“Mr. Darcy, just when I think I have reached an understanding of your character, you say something that takes me completely by surprise.”
“I wish I knew some way to relieve your pain, Miss Bennet,” he said looking away. As he turned his head, Elizabeth noticed that the tips of his ears had turned a little red, and she remembered that had happened before when he was embarrassed. Her immediate reaction was to try and ease his discomfort.
“Perhaps the best you can do right now, sir, is to see that we start off for London again as quickly as possible.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” he said. “I will call for the carriage to be brought around.” Rising, he offered his arm. This time, Elizabeth took it without thinking and allowed herself to be guided back inside.
That evening at Darcy’s home in London, the gentlemen relaxed over brandy in the library after dinner. Georgiana was in London but staying with her aunt and uncle so they had the house to themselves. Finally, Fitzwilliam decided he could wait no longer for an explanation of Darcy’s recent behavior.
“What is this between you and Miss Elizabeth Bennet? You are being terribly generous in helping her. I am not saying she is not deserving of your aid. Still it is not like you.”
“Why do you say it is not like me? I am always helping people.”
“Yes, for family, but you barely know this woman.”
“It was nothing. She was desperate to return home, and we were already going in that direction.”
“That is the official version, but I am your cousin. We have always been close. In fact, we are closer than I am with my own brother. You know that. Come, come, tell me what this is all about.”
“There is nothing to tell.”
“Very well,” said Fitzwilliam raising his hand to signal he would cease this line of questioning. He decided to change to a more indirect campaign to extract the information. “Shall we have another brandy? This is really incredibly smooth stuff. Even better than what you had last time I was here.”
After pouring more brandy for each of them, Darcy stood up and started to walk around the library, occasionally pulling out a volume, examining it, and putting it back on the shelf. Observing his cousin, Fitzwilliam was sure that Darcy would not be able to tell him the titles of any of the books he had pretended to look at. Something else was on his mind. Fitzwilliam decided to wait while the brandy did its slow work. Confident that he could out-drink his cousin, he knew it was just a matter of time and patience—both of which he had in abundance.
Darcy continued to prowl around the room, poking at the fire, examining the pictures on the mantle. He was generally very calm even in difficult situations, and this restlessness was a side Fitzwilliam rarely saw. After his grand tour of the room, Darcy settled back into his chair and his cousin filled his glass again.
“Are you maybe in more of a mood to talk now?” Fitzwilliam ventured.
“I am sorry I am not better company this evening. It has been a long day, and I am quite fatigued from our journey.”
Fitzwilliam tried another approach. “It certainly made for much more pleasant scenery than usual today—having Miss Elizabeth in the carriage with us. She is a very handsome young woman. Have you noticed?”
“You know I have,” Darcy said quietly without looking up.
Fitzwilliam was pleased to get this small admission. Usually, these conversations began with one small opening, and from there he was an expert at prying out the rest of the story. Continuing his battle plan, he remarked, “She is one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance. Not only that but she has a quick mind and a good sense of humor.”
Darcy continued to stare at the floor, merely nodding.
“She is brilliant at conversation, and you know how much I love to carry on an intelligent discussion, especially when it is with a beautiful young lady.” He watched for a reaction on Darcy’s face and saw a small smile playing at one corner of his cousin’s mouth—another chink in the armor. “If she had any fortune at all, I would have been quite interested in her,” he remarked with an air of studied casualness. “I might even have considered offering for her.” He looked again for a reaction. At first, there was none. After a few moments, Darcy erupted.
“Stop! Enough. Very well, I admit it.”
“You admit what?” Fitzwilliam asked, trying to look surprised.
“There is more to it than just helping a woman in distress.”
“More to what?”
“Damn it, you know what I mean.”
“Oh, such language for a gentleman,” said Fitzwilliam feigning shock. “I do not know if this old soldier can stand to hearing such strong words!” With that, they both broke up laughing. Fitzwilliam always found a way to get what he wanted out of Darcy. It usually took a little time, a little teasing, and a few glasses of good brandy. He had triumphed again.