A/N Hey all! This is a random oneshot idea that popped randomly into my head and would not let go until I wrote it down. Anyway, it's my first P&P fanfic, and so forgive any errors or places when it doesn't sound quite like 1811 England, I tried my best! Regardless, please enjoy, and don't forget to leave a review!
"Whatever am I going to do?" Georgiana Darcy asked frantically, pacing the length of the study, her long slender fingers wringing together in agitation.
From his seat on an armchair behind her, Mr. Darcy did his best to hide a smile, amused despite his sister's obvious consternation.
"Come now, Georgie, it can't be that bad," Charles Bingley said, voice serious although his face (much like Darcy's) was lined with carefully concealed amusement. "Surely if this fellow likes you enough to propose marriage, the matter should be taken as a compliment!"
His wife whacked his arm lightly. "Mr. Bingley!" she said, the soft inflection revealing the fact that she took the young woman's anxiety much more seriously than the two men. "Of course Georgie should worry if the gentleman's attentions are unwelcome!"
"Oh, he is such a pleasant man," Georgiana said, ignoring the conversation occurring behind her. "I have no wish to injure his pride. It is just that-"
"He is fifteen years your senior and you do not love him," Elizabeth stated firmly. "You are too kind Georgiana, you have every right to refuse this man's offer if you wish. He may sulk for a few weeks, but I daresay he will recover quickly enough."
"But how am I to refuse him?" Georgiana asked her sister-in-law, her voice increasing to an anxious crescendo. Her cheeks reddened slightly as all four seated heads turned to look at her. "Without doing harm to his feelings, I mean."
On impulse, everyone in the room turned this time towards Mrs. Bingley, a woman who epitomized everything sweet and kind in the world. The woman blushed prettily under their scrutiny. "I'm sure I haven't the slightest idea," she said. "Lizzie is the one with experience in this particular field, not I."
Georgiana turned again to her sister. "Elizabeth!" she cried. "You refused an offer of marriage?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"Truly, Mrs. Darcy?" Bingley asked, and Darcy felt a surge of guilt for keeping his friend ignorant of the events at Hunsford. "I had no idea."
"Please Elizabeth, if you have experience you can coach me on what to say to Mr. Fairfax!"
Elizabeth snorted. "Trust me, Georgie, if your intention is to let this gentleman down softly, I fear that I shall not be a very good teacher."
This time Darcy couldn't hold back the chuckle. He looked towards his wife, expecting a wry smile in return, but found her focused on the young lady.
"Oh please, Elizabeth, you must help me!" Georgiana cried, sinking softly to the ground beside Elizabeth's chair, so her hands laid delicately on the armrest. "Tell me about the proposal you refused!"
At this, Darcy's smile faded and he grew agitated, fist clenching at his side. He again tried to catch his wife's eye, but could not.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, grimaced in remembrance. "It was not a pleasant experience. I can hardly stand to remember it at all!"
"Surely it wasn't as bad as all that, Lizzie" Mrs. Bingley said, and Mr. Darcy spared a moment of silent gratitude for his sister-in-law.
Elizabeth, however, seemed unconvinced. "Oh, my dearest Jane, you were not there to hear his proposal!"
At this, Darcy's agitation grew, and he found his hands fingering the seam of the chair uncomfortably.
"And to think that he considered it perfectly acceptable," Elizabeth continued.
Now that was just unfair. Yes, Darcy had made a mistake in his insulting offer, but in the years since he had taken every opportunity to apologize for the error. Even as he wrote the heated letter hours later, he had felt remorse for his 'ungentlemanly behavior.' He searched his wife's tone for the familiar teasing lilt but found none. Surely she could not still be sore about the event!
Across the room, Bingley chuckled. "It seems you went through quite the ordeal, Mrs. Darcy!"
Mrs. Bingley frowned, clearly uncomfortable with anyone being thought of in a negative light. "I think you're being rather unfair to the poor man, Lizzie. Even if his words got muddled his intentions were good, were they not?"
"I cannot be as sure as you are, Jane," Elizabeth said darkly.
"But he was a good man, if a tad improper!"
"He may not have been a bad man," Elizabeth conceded. "But he was an odious fool!"
This was too much for Mr. Darcy; he rose stiffly and without a word to his wife or their guests quickly exited the room.
Elizabeth blinked.
"What on earth has gotten into him?" Mr. Bingley asked, quite surprised as his friend's rude behavior.
From her place on the floor, Georgiana shrugged. "I don't know."
Elizabeth stared at the door her husband had just exited, confused as everyone else.
Suddenly Mrs. Bingley let out a soft "Oh!" as something seemed to occur to her. "Lizzie," she started carefully. "Is it possible that you have not told Mr. Darcy about all the proposals of marriage you received?"
Elizabeth frowned. "What do you mean-" she started, but stopped as the full meaning of her sister's words hit her. "Oh dear," she said, her tone caught somewhere between worry and amusement. "I fear that you are right, Jane."
"Right about what?" Mr. Bingley asked curiously.
"Oh dear," Elizabeth said again, ignoring Mr. Bingley's question. "I must go after him. Excuse me." With that she too left the study, in pursuit of Mr. Darcy.
"What a strange evening!" Mr. Bingley commented as the door swung shut behind her.
Georgiana could only nod in agreement.
"Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth asked softly, hovering near the entrance to the library, where her husband was currently sulking in another armchair.
Darcy looked up at her, his expression dark. "I was not aware you considered me an 'odious fool,'" he said.
"My dear Fitzwilliam," she responded, concealing her amusement at the entire situation as best she could, and coming to stand beside her husband. "You can't possible have thought that I meant you."
"Well of course I did!" he cried, standing up suddenly, so he was glowering down at her.
This time, Elizabeth found that could not stop the chuckle from bubbling up her throat.
Mr. Darcy's frowned deepened. "Whomever else could you mean?" he asked angrily.
Elizabeth stared up at his dark eyes impertinently, determined that he should come up with the answer for himself.
They glared at each other for a moment, but suddenly his expression softened as it hit him. "You had another offer of marriage," he whispered in realization.
"Indeed I did," Elizabeth answered, arms crossed over her chest and trying to look stern, though the laughter was still clear in her eyes.
Mr. Darcy sunk slowly back down into the armchair, embarrassment evident on his face. "I fear I am a fool," he said, head drooped in his hands, unable to meet his wife's eyes.
Elizabeth sat down on the footstool in front of the chair, and reached forward to rest her small hand against his. She gently pried them away from his face, so she could touch his cheek lightly. "It is I who am the fool," she said, lovely smile soft against her lips. "It entirely slipped my mind that I had never informed you of the offer. I promise, your proposal at Rosings never even crossed my thoughts."
Darcy observed his wife gratefully, but froze as another thought occurred to him. "We have been married for almost three years, Elizabeth, why have you waited until now to inform me of this chapter in your life?"
She seemed to understand his fears instinctively, and laughed before answering. "In all honesty, I do not think I have thought of it even once since I arrived at Pemberly. I assure you, it was not due to concealed feeling for the man; in case you have forgotten I referred to him as an 'odious fool' not ten minutes ago."
Mr. Darcy nodded in acknowledgement and stood up. He walked to the window and stared out at the grounds of Pemberly below. He heard a rustle as fabric as Elizabeth came to stand beside him. "Am I acquainted with this man?" he asked without looking at her, trying not to let the absurd jealously he felt cloud his words. She had chosen him, after all, not this mystery gentleman.
"You do," she said quietly. "It was Mr. Collins."
His mind cast about for a moment, trying to remember a Mr. Collins in his acquaintance. He paled as he found a match. "Surely you don't mean-"
"Mr. Collins my cousin and your Aunt's rector," she confirmed with a sigh.
For a moment all Darcy could feel was a fiery, all-consuming rage. The audacity of that man! To think that he was worthy of a bride like Elizabeth. In intellect alone she as superior to him as Aristotle, or Plato, or Erasmus was to an insect. She was witty, smart, beautiful, he himself was disparagingly unequal to her, but Mr. Collins! That toad of man could hardly be considered the same species, let alone a man worthy of spending the rest of his life with such a woman as his Elizabeth. To think of him touching her, of her bearing his children! It was too much, Darcy felt as if his head were about to explode.
There was a slight tickling on his hand then, as her fingers wrapped around his, and he felt his anger disperse as quickly as it had come. She had refused Mr. Collins. She was his wife, they had two beautiful children who were currently sound asleep in the nursery, she called Georgiana 'sister.' She was his. "I love you," he said quietly.
"I know," she responded, nestling her head against his shoulder. "I love you as well."
They stood there a moment, and Darcy felt a smile unfurl across his cheeks. "Though I find it hard to believe that Mr. Collins's proposal was the worst you ever received," he said, tone light and teasing.
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. "At least you had the good sense to say you loved me."
"He didn't!" Darcy said, laughing.
"Not once! I believe his reasons for marriage (which he felt the need to lay out for me) were something along the lines of one, he thought that as a member of the clergy he had a duty to set an example for his parishioners, two, his 'esteemed patroness Lady Katherine de Bourgh' thought it a good idea, and finally, ranking number three, he thought it might improve his own happiness."
By the end of the speech Darcy's shoulders were shaking with laugher.
"Oh, he did mention that I had become the object his attention from almost the moment he arrived," she admitted. "Although I later learned the reason he said 'almost' was because he discussed proposing to Jane earlier, only to have Mama hint that Jane was soon expected to be engaged." she laughed. "Truly, you may have insulted my family and our status in life, but at least I was not your second choice after my favorite sister!"
"You may say that now, Elizabeth," Darcy said, smiling. "But I clearly remember you telling me at the time, in no uncertain terms, that I was the last man you could 'ever be prevailed upon to marry.'"
Elizabeth blushed and hid her face as he quoted her words back to her. "I had forgotten I said such that. It will comfort you to learn, I'm sure, that I said much the same thing to Mr. Collins, albeit in a more civil manner."
"Did you?" he asked curiously.
"I believe the quotation was something like 'you could not make me happy and I am convinced that I am the last woman who could make you so.' Not quite the same, but rather similar, don't you think?"
"Dear Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy said, laughing, and he leaned down to press a quick kiss to his wife's lips. When it ended, he was still chuckling. "You really aren't one for letting men down softly, are you?"
Elizabeth laughed and hit his arm playfully, but conceded, "No, I guess not." She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his cheek. "Now come, we must return to the study. I fear that soon the length of our absence will push even Jane and Bingley to the end of their patience."
Darcy chuckled, and let his wife lead him away from the window, but he stopped before they reached the door. "I am very grateful that you did not agree to marry Mr. Collins, Elizabeth," he said gravely. "I fear my pride would not have survived."
Elizabeth frowned, sensing his sudden seriousness. "If you are referring to me rejecting your offer of marriage only to agree to Mr. Collins's, you need not worry yourself, sir, for if you remember, when you proposed to me at Hunsford, I was visiting Mr. and the new Mrs. Collins."
"No that is not what I meant," Darcy said, staring intently at his wife's confused expression. "I mean that you would have sentenced me to spend the rest of my life hopelessly in love with another man's wife, and what a man! I would've been forced to see the two of you whenever I visited Rosings, and refer to you as 'Mrs. Collins.' You would have condemned me to a very cruel fate indeed."
Elizabeth reached up, took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. When they broke apart, she brushed a small tear from her eyes. "You silly man," she said.
Darcy smiled, and pulled her out of the library and back down the hall to the study, feeling the same blind elation as he had so many years ago, when she had finally agreed to marry him.
A/N Wow, that turned out a lot more fluffy and romantic than I'd originally intended. Oh, well, I hoped you liked it, and please don't forget to review!