Alone with Mr. Darcy: A Pride & Prejudice Variation (18 page)

If only she did not care for him! Or was
that, perhaps, something she could change? She had fallen in love with the man
she thought him to be on those three days, and now she knew more of his flaws.
Could she convince her heart not to hold him so dear? Perhaps if she could look
at it as an arranged marriage, it would be tolerable.

But even in an arranged marriage, some mutual
respect was necessary. Perhaps the first step would be to convince him to tell
her the truth. Hearing from his own lips he had intended to abandon her just
might be enough to convince her traitorous heart and body he was nothing but an
ordinary man, as selfish as any other.

***

Darcy hoped to escape to the parsonage and
Elizabeth early the next morning, so he breakfasted in his room to avoid having
to deal with his aunt. Apparently he did not walk past the sitting room quickly
enough, though, since Lady Catherine snapped, “Darcy, there you are! I
especially wished to speak to you this morning. Why were you not at breakfast?”

Resignedly he stepped just inside the
sitting room. Richard was already there, wearing a long-suffering expression.
Darcy said, “I beg your pardon. I did not realize you had plans.” And if her
plans included him, he had no intention of cooperating with them. Not today.

“Well, you are here now. You know what I
wish to discuss.”

“Actually, I have not the slightest idea.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do not be coy. It
is far past time for you to announce your engagement.”

Darcy stiffened. How had she discovered
about Elizabeth? Had she arranged for someone to watch his every move? But it
made no sense. She should be horrified by his desire to marry a country nobody.
Unless… “Are you by chance referring to your daughter?”

“Of course I am speaking of Anne!”

Why did she have to choose this moment for
their annual argument? “We have discussed this before, and my views have not
changed. I have no intention of marrying my cousin, either now or in the
future. I hope I have made myself perfectly clear.”

“Nonsense. You have been promised to her
since you were in your cradle. I have stood by while you sowed your wild oats
and learned to manage Pemberley, but now it is time. Anne is 27 years old. You
cannot afford to wait until she is past her childbearing years.”

“Then you must find some other man for her
to marry. It will not be me. I do not feel bound by any agreement to which I
was not party, and I will not marry to please you or anyone else – as I
have said many times before.”

“Your mother would have something to say
about that, young man! She would be ashamed of you.”

“Perhaps she would, but I would give her
the same answer. As it happens, I have already chosen the lady I intend to wed,
and it is not your daughter. By this time next year, I will be married, and we
will be spared having this discussion ever again. I wish you good day.” He
turned to leave.

“Stop right there, young man! You owe me
this.” She all but hissed the words.

He looked back at her incredulously. “I
owe you no such thing.”

“Your father was supposed to marry
me
.
It was all arranged. Pemberley should have been mine, but at the last minute,
he chose Anne in my stead.”

“I have heard this story a thousand times.
I am not responsible for decisions made by my father before I was even
conceived.”

She pushed herself up from her chair, her
arms trembling as they supported her. “They all promised me! My father, your
father, and Anne – that if I had a daughter, she would marry their son,
and my grandchildren would have Pemberley.”

“May I point out that my father obviously
did not feel himself bound to honor the betrothal set up by
his
parents?
Why should I feel obligated to do something my father would not?” His hands
tightened into fists.

“It is not the same at all! He still
married into the family. If I had two daughters, and you wanted the younger one
instead of the elder, I would accept that. But Anne is all I have.”

“I am very sorry for your disappointment,
and that my father and grandfather made promises they were not in a position to
keep, but it makes no difference. I honor you as my aunt, but I
will not
marry
your daughter, and that is the end of it.” He stalked away, ignoring her as she
furiously called his name.

Richard followed at his heels. “That was
certainly unpleasant. I suggest we absent ourselves from the premises until our
aunt reverts to her usual level of irritability.”

Darcy did not slacken his pace toward the
front door. “I am going to pay a call at the parsonage. You may exercise
Bucephalus if you wish.” With any luck, Richard would prefer a long ride to the
prospect of spending time with Mr. and Mrs. Collins.

“Trying to rid yourself of me, are you?
You must be planning another assignation with Mrs. Collins.”

“Richard, for the last time, I am
not
having assignations with Mrs. Collins.”

“It is so pleasantly simple to annoy you,
cousin! Have you really promised yourself to another woman, or was that simply
an attempt to put a final end to the discussion of marrying Anne?”

Trust Richard to remember that bit and
gnaw at it like a bulldog! It could hardly remain secret long, though,
especially if Richard insisted on trailing after him constantly. “I am not at
present engaged, but I have fixed my mind on the lady I wish to marry.”

“And you do not wish to tell me who she
is, it seems! Does she know of her good fortune yet, or are you planning to
surprise her with the news? If you have been courting anyone, I have failed to
notice it. Do I know her?”

“Do you plan to question me until you are
able to narrow down the possibilities from every lady in England?”

“You must admit it would be amusing, and
would pass the time far better than playing cards with our dear cousin whom you
have just jilted.”

“Not you as well! You know I have never
said I would marry Anne. In fact, I have denied it repeatedly.”

“Does Anne know that?”

Darcy stopped in his tracks. “I do not
know. I have never done her the discourtesy of saying so to her face, but she must
have heard it by now.”

“For her sake, I hope that is the case. If
she has believed her mother’s fairy stories, she may be in for a rude shock.”

Why must he think about Anne’s sentiments
right now, when every instinct was urging him toward the parsonage and
Elizabeth? He had been champing at the bit since the previous day, trying to
recall her every look and word, and to read into them what she was thinking.
But it was hopeless. He had never understood why Elizabeth made the choices she
did. 

“I will deal with Anne when I must. For
now, I am off to pay my call. I will return before dinner.”

“Oh, no, cousin! I am going with you. You
are up to some mischief, and I intend to discover what it is.”

“No, you intend to be a nuisance and drive
me to distraction. That is what you mean,” grumbled Darcy.

“Oh, well put!” said his cousin. 

Darcy’s impatience to see Elizabeth grew
greater as they approached the parsonage. He could still hardly believe she was
truly there. Even his skin prickled with awareness at the thought of her. 

Richard’s voice flowed past him, making
him aware his cousin had been speaking for some time. “I beg your pardon. I was
woolgathering and missed what you said.”

His cousin laughed. “That much was
obvious. I was merely wondering what our aunt is doing now, and whether we
should expect her to swoop down on us like a Valkyrie from Valhalla.”

“Heaven forfend,” said Darcy dryly. “She
is quite formidable enough without the addition of supernatural powers.”

They turned up the path to the parsonage
in greater accord, Darcy all but counting the seconds. 

***

In the parsonage sitting room, Colonel
Fitzwilliam so quickly engaged Charlotte in a conversation that Elizabeth
strongly suspected the maneuver had been planned by his cousin. Mr. Darcy’s
immediate approach to her seemed only to confirm it. Well, she had no intention
of giving him the satisfaction of knowing he had the power to hurt her. She
made a point of not looking at him when he sat next to her. 

Without preliminaries, he said in a low,
pained voice, “Do you think I did not do enough for your friend’s sister? Was
the man chosen for her unsuitable?”

It was so startlingly unexpected she
forgot her resolve and looked at him. “No, he was suitable.” That must sound
remarkably ungrateful after his extraordinary efforts for Maria Lucas, so she
added, “You were very generous, and I thank you for that.” It would do; she had
said it as ungraciously as possible, but at least she had said it, and that
debt was paid.

“Then why? I know I have failed to
understand your intentions on various occasions, but I have read through your
letter dozens of time, and for the life of me I cannot find anything to explain
why you would want nothing to do with me.” He unfolded a sheet of paper and
pushed it into her hand. “Show me what is wrong. I deserve that much.”

It was the first letter she had written
him, the one sent via his man Mr. Stanton, full of teasing about onion soup and
thanks for his kindness to Maria. Why had he brought it with him to Rosings?
She folded it slowly and handed it back to him. “Not that letter,” she said
flatly. Her anger kept her from bursting into tears. “The one my father gave to
you.”

“But your father gave me no letter.” He
sounded genuinely bewildered.

For a moment hope soared in her, but then
she remembered what Charlotte had told her. “I might even have believed you did
not receive it, but I have evidence enough to know not to believe what you say.
If the letter did not reach you, how did you discover there was a scandal?”

His brows drew together. “Stanton told me.
He discovered it when he traveled to Meryton to make the final settlements for
Miss Lucas. Is that what the letter was about? I have been losing sleep for
weeks over why you never contacted me as you promised.”

She shook her head. “That is not all.
Charlotte told me you claim to have called at my uncle’s house and been told
Jane had left for the country. Unfortunately for you, I happen to know that was
untrue. Jane is still there, even as we speak.”

He held his hands out palm up. “I have no
explanation. I
did
call at your uncle’s house and sent in my card to
Miss Bennet. Shortly afterwards, your uncle came out and told me she had
returned to Longbourn. I do not know why he did that, but I am telling you the
truth.”

“So you accuse my uncle of lying? What
would he stand to gain by it? No, Mr. Darcy, I am afraid I cannot credit your
story.” But she could also not keep her composure much longer, so she stood
quickly, her skirts rustling, and moved a chair so she could sit as close as
possible to Charlotte. He would not dare to attempt a private conversation
there.

She tried to focus on the conversation
between Charlotte and the colonel, if for no other reason than to avoid
thinking about the man sitting across the room. She could feel the weight of
his eyes on her.

The colonel said, “Your husband seems
inordinately proud of his garden.”

Charlotte smiled demurely. “I encourage
him in that. The fresh air is good for his health.”

“Indeed, it is good for all of us. Miss
Bennet, your friend was telling me you are a great walker. There are many fine
walks to explore in the area.”

“How delightful. You must know it well.”
It was not much of a response, but it was something.

“I explore when I can. I am very partial
to Kentish scenery, which is fortunate for me as I was recently stationed at
Folkestone. It proved a most pleasing location.”

Charlotte said, “I know little of
Folkestone except it is by the sea.”

“Our encampment is actually at the top of
the cliffs overlooking the channel. The winter winds there are fierce, but the
view over the water is unmatched. I often walk along the beaches there as
well.”

“I have heard sea air is most
invigorating.” Charlotte glanced at Elizabeth.

“I hope you will be able to experience it
yourself soon,” said the colonel. “We are not far from the coast here.”

Elizabeth jumped when Darcy spoke. “Miss
Elizabeth has also never seen the sea.”

She swallowed hard. “Alas, unless you
refer to a sea of snow, it is true.”

Richard rubbed his hands together. “We
must do something about that, then. Darcy, do you think it would it be possible
to arrange an outing? Folkestone is but ten miles hence.”

Elizabeth prayed he would say no. A day in
a carriage with him would be unbearable.

“My carriage is at your service.” There
was no animation in his voice.

Charlotte glanced sidelong at Elizabeth.
“That is a generous offer, Mr. Darcy.”

Why was he playing the part of the injured
party? Was she supposed to take pity on him and tell him she understood why he
had refused to marry her? He would be in for a surprise if he hoped for that.
Why was he pursuing her anyway? If only he could simply leave her alone!

“Miss Elizabeth.” Darcy cleared his
throat. “I was surprised to discover you bear more of a resemblance to your
uncle than to either of your parents. I was struck by it when I met him. He has
the same dark hair, though his is straight and has gone full silver at the
temples. He is tall, although not so tall as Richard. But it is in his face I
could truly see the resemblance. The shape is similar, especially around the
chin, but the most notable thing was his eyes. I did not appreciate it until he
removed his spectacles, but his eyes have the same tip-tilted shape as yours,
although his are not as dark. Like yours, his face shows a tendency toward
laughter, even when he is discussing a serious matter. He wore a blue waistcoat
embroidered with entwining vines. It made me wonder if he enjoyed nature as
much as you do.” His voice was frighteningly level.

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. “Why, you are
becoming an artist in your old age, Darcy! I have never known you to take so
much notice of details of someone’s appearance.”

Darcy did not look at him, his eyes still
fixed on her. “I have always noticed these things. I simply do not usually bore
people with such a recitation unless there is a purpose. I could also mention
the flowerpots with daffodils on each side of the doorway, while the window
boxes had a mixture of blue and yellow flowers.”

Elizabeth drew in a shaky breath. So he
had
been to Gracechurch Street and met her uncle – and she had accused him of
lying. He could not have imagined all those details. But it still made no
sense. Why would her uncle send him away when Jane was there – or could
it be he wished to prevent him from discovering Elizabeth was there as well as
Jane? Her uncle was an honest man, but he would not be above concocting a
polite story to safeguard one of his relations. Except she had not wished to be
safeguarded from Mr. Darcy. She had been longing for him. Could it also be true
he had not received her letter? Had her father lied to her?

Over the pounding of her heart, she said,
“I withdraw my accusation. I will grant you have met my uncle and seen his
house.”

Darcy nodded once, slowly. “And the rest?”

How could she answer with Charlotte and
the colonel staring at them, as well they might with this extraordinary
discussion? Her stomach turned somersaults, while fear and a dizzying hope
warred within her. “I…I do not know.”

Charlotte interposed hastily, “I have never
visited your uncle’s house, but I know you always enjoy visiting it, Lizzy.”

She could not bear to look at Mr. Darcy’s
stern face, so she dropped her gaze to her folded hands. “Yes, I do. They have
been very welcoming to me,” she said softly. “The window boxes have
forget-me-nots and violas.”

Darcy made a sound which was almost a
cough. When Elizabeth peeked at him he was looking questioningly at Charlotte,
who shrugged lightly. 

The sudden high-pitched scream of an
animal in pain put a halt to the conversation. Charlotte, looking relieved at
the interruption, jumped to her feet and peered out the window. “What do you
suppose it was? I cannot see anything.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam’s face was pale. “It
was a horse. I am certain of it.”

“We have no stables here,” said Charlotte.

Darcy strode to join her at the window.
“It must be a traveler, then. Did you hear which direction it came from?”

Charlotte shook her head. “I am not
certain. But wait – it looks as if someone is coming down the road. We
shall know soon enough.”

Darcy looked back at Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“It might not have been a horse. It could have been a child.”

“It was a horse. I have heard enough
horses scream in battle to know whereof I speak. It is not a sound one
forgets.”

“He is coming here. I will…”

But the maid was ahead of whatever
Charlotte was planning. There was no knock, so she must have opened the door to
him right away, and brought the visitor to her mistress.

He was a child of no more than ten,
panting heavily. “You must come quickly. ’Tis a terrible accident!” He leaned
forward, his hands on the front of his thighs, gasping for breath.

“Where?” asked Darcy.

“At the bend in the road, by the stream.
’Tis very bad.”

“Come, Richard,” said Darcy. “Ladies, pray
excuse us.”

They were out the door before Elizabeth
could even think to say farewell. “Should we go after them, do you think?” she
asked Charlotte.

Her friend was already pulling on her
gloves. “I must, but you may remain here if you wish.”

She could not let Mr. Darcy go without any
further explanation. “No, I will come with you. Perhaps I can help somehow.”

On the road in front of the parsonage, the
gentlemen were already far ahead of them, traveling at a run. Elizabeth wished
she could do the same, but Charlotte was the rector’s wife and had to set an
example. Still, their pace was quick.

Charlotte said, “This was bound to happen
sooner or later. The stream bank has been undercut for some time and the lane
crumbling at the edge. Mr. Darcy said he had spoken to Lady Catherine about the
need to repair it, but she has been unwilling to spend the money. I hope this
will be enough to make her see differently.”

“Why is it Mr. Darcy’s business to care
for the roads here?”

“He advises her on estate matters, though
I expect she rarely follows his advice. She has strong opinions of her own. I
suspect she only asks him do it because of her hopes he will one day marry her
daughter.”

The words were enough to shock Elizabeth.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Collins told me something of that once.”

With a glance of keen observation,
Charlotte said, “There is nothing to it, Lizzy. I have seen the two of them
together and he has no interest in her. And surely you cannot now doubt he has
strong feelings for you.”

“I do not see…”

“Oh, dear God!” cried Charlotte. “That is Lady
Catherine’s carriage!” She kilted up her skirts and began to run.

Elizabeth hurried after her. A large,
ornate carriage lay on its side half way in the stream, its side shattered in.
Two horses scrabbled wildly just above it, their reins a tangled mess, as Darcy
and Colonel Fitzwilliam struggled to hold them back.

Darcy spotted them first and raised his
voice. “Mrs. Collins, could you assist Lady Catherine? We cannot let these
horses loose.”

“Of course.” With no attention to
propriety, Charlotte half-slid down the bank and approached the carriage from
the back where she would be safe from the crazed horses. She had to struggle to
unlatch the carriage door at its unnatural angle. “Lady Catherine? It is Mrs.
Collins. May I assist you out?”

Elizabeth could not hear the words of the
reply, just the annoyance of the tone.

“Very well, I will climb in.” Somehow
Charlotte managed to scramble on top of the fallen coach and then lowered
herself inside.