To Make You Love Me
Summary: We all know how Elizabeth Bennet reacted to the Hunsford proposal and how her life progressed in the months following. How did Darcy feel after Elizabeth rejected him and how did he transform into the leading man we all love? (Darcy's point of view)
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Jane Austen. This story is property of the writer. © 2014
Premise: "My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me." (Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen, Chapter 60)
Chapter 1: Rejection
["Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness."] (Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen, Chapter 34)
Fitzwilliam Darcy quickly took his leave and quit the parsonage. As he hurried along the path to Rosings, his anger raged inside him like a brewing storm. He had just been harshly rejected by Miss Elizabeth Bennet; he had offered his hand and she had vehemently refused him. In his haste to be away from the parsonage, he realized that he had been holding his breath; he slowed his pace and inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm himself. "Why would she reject me?" he wondered. "Had she not been expecting my address; even wishing for it?" Instead of immediately returning to his aunt's house, he turned into the park where he had frequently walked with Miss Elizabeth during his visit to Rosings.
He had spent the past few months thinking of Miss Elizabeth, recalling the brief time they spent together in Hertfordshire last autumn. When they first met, he had no intentions of forming an attachment to her; he had even left the area after sensing the danger of a budding attachment to her. Certainly such an attachment was ill-advised; his family would never approve. As the owner of Pemberley and extensive properties, it was his obligation to marry well and forge an alliance that would improve his circumstances and his sister's matrimonial prospects. He had always believed that his duty to his family and his dedication to Georgiana would guide him in the selection of a wife; that family, above all else, was the most important priority of the Master of Pemberley. Fitzwilliam Darcy was not the type of man to fall easily to the whims of the heart. Over the years he had taught himself to maintain a reserved façade and keep his emotions under good regulation concerning matters of the heart. He was resolved to give his attentions only to the most deserving woman. The ladies of the Ton had pursued him in earnest since he inherited his estate and many of those ladies had excellent connections and abundant dowries but he never allowed them to deter him from his resolve. Of course, it hardly mattered for not one of the ladies of his acquaintance had interested him in the slightest way. That is – until he met Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
For months he had fought against his will, his better judgment and his reason in an attempt to forget Miss Elizabeth. She had no connections, no fortune and her family was entirely unsuitable; his family expected much more of him. He expected more of himself but his attraction to her had been undeniable. Unfortunately, he had failed in every effort to put her out of his mind; the memory of her mesmerizing eyes, her fine form, her chestnut curls, her vibrant demeanor, her wit, her intelligence, her impertinence, her loyalty and devotion to her family, her passion; everything about her brought her back to the forefront of his mind. Even now as he walked in the park alone, the sight of the spring bulb garden that she had admired with such enthusiasm brought back pleasant memories. "Oh Mr. Darcy, if only the world could be as merry as the daffodils! Then we would always smile, as they do!" she had exclaimed on their recent tour of the garden; she had smiled brilliantly as she gently ran her fingers over the blooms and admired their sunny appearance.
As he stopped in front of the hyacinths, he closed his eyes and recalled how she had admired the color and scent of the blooms and he wished that she was there with him now. Watching her breathe in the fragrance and bask in the scent had given him such pleasure; she was the most captivating woman of his acquaintance. If she had accepted him, he would have given her all the fragrant flowers of her desire, just so he could admire her enthusiasm and her smiles.
But he would not be giving her any flowers; her smiles would never be intended for him nor would her enthusiasm or her passion. He continued walking as his mind swirled with conflicting emotions about his duty to his family and his own desire. He had finally given in to his heart; his traitorous heart that beat only for her. He knew that he should not love her but the thought of living without her had become too daunting; the thought that she would give her love to another man was beyond his imagination – out of the question. Certainly his family would accept his choice, regardless of her circumstances, connections or fortune. If he loved her, they would understand and accept his decision. His fortune was plentiful; he had no need to advance his standing through marriage. His uncle and aunts would be made to understand, or perhaps, once they met Miss Elizabeth, she would win their hearts just as she had won his.
Over the last few days, he had spent several hours together with Miss Elizabeth, walking the parks of Rosings and conversing about pleasant topics; the house, the parks, the gardens, the parsonage, the Collins'. He had enjoyed their early morning walks and their light, easy conversation; she had been so fascinating, so intelligent, so witty, and so easy to converse with. She spoke her opinion without reserve, regardless of his opinion; she never condescended to him. She was unlike any other woman of his acquaintance. She held him under her enchantment; he had been certain that she felt the same. He wondered at the time if she knew that when she next came to Rosings that she would be staying there, rather than at the parsonage. She would soon be his wife, he reasoned, and it would naturally follow that they would stay there together. How he had allowed his mind to wander in that direction, he had no idea; but she had been friendly and attentive, never once giving any indication of her displeasure or disapproval. If he had only known, he certainly would not have humiliated himself by offering his hand.
When he had gone to the parsonage earlier, he had been certain of her acceptance. He considered it impossible that a woman of no consequence would contemplate refusing a man of his impeccable circumstances. Certainly she would never receive a better offer from another suitor. He was one of the most sought after bachelors of the ton. His affluent circumstances, his social standing, his superior family; there was not a single reason she would have to complain about his station. In London, women always clamored for his attention and the opportunity to speak with him or dance with him. He had never once considered any of the women from the ton; their insipid conversation and fluttering lashes were revolting to him. Recalling the way that his closest friend's sister, Caroline Bingley would hang on to his arm and compliment him made him shudder with revulsion. Miss Elizabeth had never behaved that way. Always staying true to herself, she had disagreed with him, challenged him, tempted him, delighted him and, in the end, rejected him. He declared his love for her quite fervently, laying his heart out for her but instead of accepting it, she shattered it to pieces. The sparkling eyes that he had looked forward to seeing with the greatest anticipation had instead burned with angry fire. The look of love that he had long imagined to encounter in her eyes after his proposal never appeared; the only emotion clearly visible in her eyes was contempt.
Chapter 2: Dejection
["Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget. 'Had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.' Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable to allow their justice."] (Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 58)
Darcy recalled Miss Elizabeth's anger and bitterness towards him after he had made his offer. She has never desired my good opinion which I have bestowed most unwillingly: Does she not know how mistaken she was? I have spent months loving her, longing to see her and be in her company again. Knowing that she would be here gave me the greatest anticipation of my annual visit to Rosings, my Aunt Catherine's estate, which I normally anticipate with dread. My family obligation was looming overhead with Aunt Catherine's unrelenting insistence that I marry her daughter, Anne de Bourgh. Each year she takes the opportunity to goad me into submitting to her unreasonable demands. But I convinced myself that these issues would be overcome, simply by Miss Elizabeth's presence.
I ruined the happiness of a most beloved sister: I never intended to injure Miss Bennet; my only motive in the affair was the happiness of Charles Bingley, my closest friend. Charles has been so frequently in love; it never occurred to me that this time was any different from the others. Certainly Miss Elizabeth must concede that my concern for my friend is an admirable quality. My dedication to Charles is no different than the dedication and loyalty that she shows to her friend Mrs. Collins.
My arrogance, conceit, selfish disdain for the feelings of others: Arrogant? Conceited? Selfish? I have none of these qualities! I have taken prodigious care of my family, tenants and servants, seeing to their health and well-being, just as my father had done before me. Certainly none of the people under my care would make such claims against me! She has no idea of my true character; otherwise she would never make such harsh accusations. Wickham has obviously poisoned her against me. Why did I not defend myself against this accusation?
I am the last man in the world she could be prevailed upon to marry: How could our opinions be more opposite? She is the only woman in the world that I could be prevailed upon to marry; the only woman in the world that I would ever wish to marry; the only woman in the world that I have ever dreamt of marrying. Certainly I could have chosen from any of the hundreds of marriageable women in the ton but I chose Miss Elizabeth to be my wife and the mother of my children.
Had I behaved in a more gentleman-like manner: Of all her reproofs, that one weighs heavily on my mind. I have always prided myself in my behavior; no matter the circumstances, I am at all times a gentleman with my behavior under the strictest regulation. I correctly pointed out our differences to Miss Elizabeth; my affluence, her lack thereof; my superior connections, her lack thereof; my preference for propriety, her family's lack thereof. It was unfortunate that she took offence to these observations but I had been nothing but truthful with her; she should, at the very least, acknowledge that I am honest and forthright.
I could not have made the offer of my hand in any possible way that would have tempted her to accept me: That had been the final blow. All of my hopes and dreams were crushed in that instant. I assumed that a woman, any woman, would be pleased and honored to receive my offer. I am, after all, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley; what woman would not wish to have an offer of my hand? Apparently, the one woman who tempted me, albeit unknowingly, to surrender my heart.
© 2014
(Author's Note: This story is now published as an e-book under the pen-name Cassandra B. Leigh. Please check my profile page for more information.)
