Author's note
Hey, guys. This is my first P&P story and to be honest I'm itching to turn it into a whole long fic, rather than this oneshot. However, I'm a bit short on inspiration and I'm counting on your suggestions and commentary. If you think there's potential in this I think I might attempt something more complete and spanning Darcy and Elizabeth's entire story.
Also,because I've been toying with the idea of a complete whole fic, I have a beginning in mind and it places Elizabeth in Ramsgate when Georgiana visits. This scene was written with that in mind. If you find it too confusing, I can post the beginning (or at least the few pages of it that I've written so far). But honestly, I don't want to do that, unless I plan to publish the rest of the story as well or unless you're interested in this snippet but find it confusing without the backstory.
Darcy's eyes followed Elizabeth's slender figure as she made her way out of the ballroom. She would be alone in the cool halls. This was his chance to speak to her privately, to beg her for permission to court her, to offer his heart and soul and hope that she does not shatter them like glass. He barely refrained from running as he passed through the crowd and out of the room. Looking around, he saw only the dim halls but from somewhere to his right he heard voices, one of which was only too familiar to his heart. Stepping towards the happy noise he identified the second speaker as Caroline Bingley.
"I do not have the pleasure of understanding you, Miss Bingley." Darcy heard Elizabeth say with mildly suppressed annoyance, "What is it that you are accusing me of?"
"Don't be coy with me, Eliza!" Miss Bingley was heard exclaiming, "I was not born yesterday. It is quite clear to me that both you and your dear sister Jane are aiming higher than your station. Do not be fooled, Miss Bennet, I will make sure that my brother does not fall prey to your relations and I am sure Mr. Darcy is aware of your attempts and will shortly cut you from his acquaintance."
Darcy was appalled and enraged at Caroline's address. While he happened to share her belief that Bingley's affections were not equally reciprocated, he could not forgive such attitude towards Elizabeth. The lady, however, was far from allowing herself to be thusly treated:
"You have been refreshingly frank this evening, Miss Bingley. Allow me to follow your example. I do not believe a marriage between your brother and my sister to be as disadvantageous as you claim. After all, although you brother is wealthy, his fortune was begat in trade. As for my sister, while she does indeed lack a large dowry she can boast being a gentleman's daughter. Socially speaking, it is your brother who is marrying up. All this is irrelevant however in the light of their sincere love and admiration for one another. Only a blind man would fail to see how well suited their characters are and how dearly they cherish each other's company. Surely you don't mean to deny your sibling felicity and higher social ranking in a marriage, Caroline!"
The latter lady was silent. Darcy felt his breast swell with pride for Elizabeth and her eloquent defense of her sister. He also made a note to actually observe the eldest Miss Bennet more closely to see if Elizabeth's words were truth or merely sisterly affection.
"As far as Mr. Darcy is concerned" continued Elizabeth, "I would not characterize a union between myself and him to be unequal, I am after all a gentleman's daughter. Nonetheless, I do not believe you have anything to fear, Caroline. I am sure the gentleman does not have a favorable opinion of me, at least not such as would induce him to seek my hand in marriage. A fact I am grateful for, seeing as how I too do not harbor the best of opinions for Mr. Darcy."
To say that Darcy was shocked to hear this was an understatement. He, who had set off not 5 minutes ago to offer his heart on a silver platter, was now acutely aware of the spear, which had pierced it. Had he really been so fooled by her behavior and his own desperate hopes? Was he really thusly blinded? His head swam and he barely registered Elizabeth's next words.
"I wouldn't set my sights on Mr. Darcy if I were you, dear Caroline. I'm sure the gentleman does not care that you are a tradesman's daughter. However, his relations might and while Mrs. Darcy undoubtedly will enjoy many pleasures inherent in her title as to make her oblivious of society's disapprobation of her origins, I do not feel confident that your character is predisposed to contenting with domestic bliss as opposed to societal diversions. In other words, Miss Bingley, Darcy might not mind the inception of your dowry, but you will definitely mind the quiet country life which both the gentleman in question and his sister have testified to wanting above all. You will make him miserable both by forcing him into society and by staying at home and complaining about it, and I am confident that his acute insight, which you yourself have just praised, coupled with your painfully obvious attitude towards him have warned Darcy of your possible future together and he has determined not to make you the mistress of his estate."
"How dare you, Eliza! I have never been spoken to in such a manner!"
"I am sure you have not, Miss Bingley, but you must be aware of that old saying: what goes around, comes around. And might I also take this opportunity to state that if I am indeed in error regarding Mr. Darcy and his intentions, I will be the first to wish you every happiness."
With that, Miss Bingley stormed pass Darcy, thankfully too angry to take notice of him. Darcy himself was in a state of emotional flux. He felt proud of Elizabeth for her brave words, love for her and her keen observation and knowledge of his character, but also heartache over her belief that he felt not the warmest of regards for her. How? Why? Why would she believe that he does not think well of her? And what had he done to deserve her disapprobation, for deserved it must most assuredly have been. Had he really no hope?
No! There must be a way, Darcy thought to himself. I must find out why she thinks ill of me and I must correct whatever she finds lacking in myself. I cannot lose her without a fight!
Thusly motivated Darcy walked round the corner to find Elizabeth, clearly agitated, walking towards the far end of the hall where a small balcony overlooked the fields westward of Netherfield. She stopped short of the railing and with a dejected air leaned on it, her bare arms resting on its stone surface. Her gloves could be seen in one of her hands, a pale silhouette against the green inkiness of the vista. Darcy could not but stop and appreciate the gentle line of her exposed neck, the contour of her arms or the curvature of her figure. Her white dress stood in stark contrast to the dark sky, the pearls in her hair were like stars, nestled in the chestnut darkness of her curls and her skin looked almost radiant, as if it were reflecting the moonlight. She was a vision.
Overcome by the sight, Darcy required several moments to regain his composure and join her.
"Miss Elizabeth" his deep voice startled her but a smile graced her face, "I hope I am not interrupting a much desired solitude." He bowed ever so gently giving her an option to send him away. He prayed she would not.
"Mr. Darcy!" her smile was so warm, so engaging, he felt himself relax a little. Perhaps what she said to Miss Bingley was stated in anger and was not true, he though with hope. The lady continued, "I was indeed in need of solitude, but your presence is not unwelcome. Surely we can be alone together."
She was teasing again. Darcy took a deep calming breath and spoke with what he hoped was nonchalance.
"Miss Elizabeth, I have been meaning to ask you a question which you might find impertinent, but I must confess my curiosity could not be satisfied otherwise." She gave him an amused look which prompted him to continue. "My sister mentioned to me in one of her letters that you are a student of human character. " She nodded in the affirmative. Darcy wondered whether she was agreeing to being skilled in the practice or merely having shared as much with Georgiana. He could not stop however to ask for clarification as he was already feeling his determination falter. So he proceeded to ask: "What is your opinion of me?"
Darcy watched her as she pierced him with her intelligent eyes. For several seconds she but stood and watched him, as if she were debating internally whether she should answer. Then a small half-smile appeared at the corner of her mouth and she spoke:
"It is a reproachable habit indeed, Mr. Darcy, to eavesdrop on others' conversations! I must confess I am not in the least surprised, though, as this is something of a tradition in our friendship." Darcy felt a little uncomfortable at her allusion of their first meeting, but failed to understand her meaning. Confusion must have shown on his face, as Elizabeth continued, "I can only conclude, based on the events this evening and the question you have just posed, that you have heard at least part of my conversation with Miss Bingley just now."
As Elizabeth provided the much needed clarification in her usual arch manner, Darcy felt himself blush. He had been discovered! He could only thank the darkness of the night for concealing his crimson embarrassment.
Darcy considered apologizing for his behavior, but he could not bring himself to say the necessary words. Had he not breached decorum so abominably, he would have at this very moment applied for Elizabeth's hand and no doubt been rejected. He knew in his heart that in not asking forgiveness he could be insulting her further, but it was vital to him that he learn how he had displeased her in the past. Not begging for forgiveness would simply have to be added at the end of a list of transgressions. The contents of that list he could not deduce on his own, therefore he needed her to say what he had done wrong.
"You did not answer my question, madam." He said with as much composure as he could muster. If she expected contrition, she did not show it, for in her expression there was no surprise or any trace of offence. Instead sadness clouded her eyes and her posture became somewhat loose, her shoulders bent forwards, as if they had been charged with a heavy burden. Elizabeth turned around and leaned on the railing, her face towards the dark hall, her eyes fixed in the empty space ahead.
"If you have not yet observed my gift then allow me to reveal it to you now." She said with a sigh, "I find it quite easy to venture a guess – a usually correct guess – as to what a person is thinking or feeling just by observing their behavior and facial expressions. You might point out, sir, that one generally does use this technique in everyday life to navigate their social circle, but these past years I have come to the conclusion that none are as quick and as correct as I."
Darcy kept looking at her face, hoping that she look at him. He failed to see how her self-professed astuteness of observation was relevant, unless it was on that she based her confidence in his poor opinion. He hated to admit, even to himself, that she was not the best and most skilled in any endeavor, but he had to confess he was glad, for once she voiced her wrong conclusions – and they had to be wrong if she did indeed believe he did not admire her – he could easily dispel any doubts and put her to rights.
"You see, Mr. Darcy, that first morning you and I made our acquaintance, while I was conversing with your dear sister and distracting her form her misfortune, I was also observing you closely. I know that at the time you had dark thoughts on your mind and I could plainly see how your – then – recent interaction with Mr. Wickam swayed your general musing in a suspicious direction. I could tell by your stern look that you were speculating my true intentions towards dear Georgiana. It was evident to me that you found it odd that I should find myself at the same place as she and similarly to the aforementioned gentleman develop a strong and affectionate bond with her. I half expected you to whisk her away the very next day."
Darcy was silent as he remembered his thoughts and analysis of that day and had to admit she had guessed quite close to the truth. However, if she were indeed so proficient in noticing others' moods, she could scarce doubt his love now. Had it not shone in his eyes every time he looked at her? Had it not been evident in his words each time they spoke? Had he not all but said the words aloud?
Her sad mouth twisted into a sarcastic smirk, so uncharacteristic for her it almost frightened Darcy.
"I found out not a sennight later that you in fact had that intention, but were dissuaded. I could easily understand under the circumstance at the time why you were so distrustful. I was not offended. At the Meriton assembly, I overheard what you said to Mr. Bingley, but I was convinced you spoke without being aware of whom you were speaking. While it was not pleasant to be characterized as barely "tolerable" I did not take personal offence."
"Then why would you ever think I had a poor opinion of you? If you are as observant as you give testimony to, you must see that I… You must realize how… You cannot but be aware that I ardently admire and love you!" Darcy could not help but speak even though the moment his passionate exclamation was over he regretted it, for Elizabeth's face contorted in a grimace of pain and her head bowed.
"I know." Elizabeth said softly, "I have known perhaps even longer than yourself. Therein lies the problem."
She fell silent for a moment and Darcy thought it might have been because she could hear his heart break. He could almost swear the sound echoed in the darkness.
"I have also known what you felt towards my home, my family, my sister ..." She continued and Darcy felt confusion seep in the cracks of his heart.
"You do not like them. My family. You consider them bellow your station. You feel in offering for me, you will be essentially tying yourself to someone, whose position in life is decidedly bellow your own. You are half-correct, or course, in that I am not of the first circle and I do indeed lack the connections which the future Mrs. Darcy ought to possess. But you are a gentleman and I am a gentleman's daughter. We are in all essentials equal. I know you understand that and it is admirable that you feel you are able to overcome your scruples. But they are there, are they not – in the corners of your mind, forcing you to fence with them each day."
She looked at him then, her eyes finding his and he could see that she knew every word she had spoken was correct. He could only look back, blankly.
"You believe my relations are ridiculous and ill-behaved. You are right, naturally. As much as it grieves me to admit it, my mother and younger sisters show a distinct lack of propriety. Even my father, on occasion, could be accused of the same. And yet, Mr. Darcy, as a counter-argument I must say: let those among us without embarrassing relations cast the first stone. Can you in all honesty claim you yourself have none in your direct or extended family, whom you would rather not have me meet, lest they ashamed you?"
Darcy immediately thought of his aunt Catherine and needed not think hard until a few other names came to his mind too. It had never occurred to him that there is more than one kind of impropriety and money and connections did not a good person make. This epiphany must have been clearly visible to her, for she gave a small nod and continued:
"I have to confess, what has been paining me the most has been your attitude towards my most beloved Jane. I do understand that due to not having the pleasure of having known her long, you are inclined to believe her mercenary. My mother's behavior could hardly help in advocating the contrary. But am I really to believe, sir, that you think so very highly of me, if it has never occurred to you that I would in no way allow my sister to enter into a loveless marriage for the sole reason of having a secure home, without at the very least voicing my displeasure? Do you think me so self-absorbed or calculating as to allow her to mislead your friend? Do you doubt my love for her to think that I would encourage such an unfeeling behavior as you imply, or do you perhaps doubt my respect for you and your friend and therefore assume that in securing my sister's future I would be willing to sacrifice Mr. Bingley's?"
Darcy was stunned to say the least. It had not indeed occurred to him that Miss Bennet might not be uninterested in Bingley's fortune, because if she were, Elizabeth would have voiced her disapprobation. Darcy had not considered at all that if Elizabeth was genuine enough to not care for his financial eligibility, she would hardly approve of her sister's behaving in any way Elizabeth saw unfit. Why had he not thought of analyzing the situation from that angle?
"Do you wish to know why it never occurred to you to think thusly? "Elizabeth asked, interrupting his internal monologue and making him wonder whether she had some supernatural ability to read his mind. She took his silence as a conformation and continued:
"Because of…" she stopped as if she did not know how to put what she wanted to say to words. She took a deep breath, then another. Then she turned to him, looked him in the eye and spoke.
"I feel at times as if there are persons inside you, occupying the same body. One is kind and considerate, loving and shy, diligent in his duties and disposed to disregard any expense if it meant making those he loves smile. That is the person who saw past my low station and who came to respect my wit. The person who is Mr. Bingley's dear friend and Georgiana's affectionate brother. I fell in love with that person and it warms my heart when I see him in your eyes." Elizabeth had tears in her eyes. Darcy could not breathe.
"But then," she continued turning away from him, speaking fast, the words rushing out of her mouth in what sounded like frustration and anger, "Then, the other person takes charge and you are cold and unfeeling, proud and presumptuous, you look down on those around you and you look only with the intent to dislike. It is as if you become a wholly different person then, and it pains me greatly to see the look of disdain on the visage that I have come to love. That is the person who barely tolerates Sir William, who may not be the brightest and most riveting of conversationalists, but who does not possess a single maleficent thought. That is the person, who claims is not well-versed in conversing with strangers due to shyness, but who makes not the smallest of efforts to correct himself. That person I cannot stand to be in the same room with."
Darcy felt as if he had turned to stone. He could not move, not even to expand his lungs. He stood in the dark, suffocating, cold radiating from the hollowness where his crumpled heart now stood. She had said she loved him. It felt years ago when he had hoped against hope that she could ever speak those words. It felt even longer ago when he had set off to offer his heart, thinking she could accept it. That was all in the past now. Another life.
The present was harsh and cold, made of marble and iron. He felt like a lifeless statue of heartache and despair. She loved him, but she also though him unfeeling. She was angry. Was it at herself for loving him? Did she feel angry at herself for caring for someone she also disliked? Or was it at himself for behaving in a way she disapproved of?
She turned around to look at him again and she felt both very close and very far away in that small balcony. Her eyes were tearful and part of him – a very small part which had somehow survived his petrification – felt surprise that there was no accusation or anger in her expression. Only grief and defeat.
"I could see it in your eyes tonight, as soon as you saw me enter through the doors, that you had made a decision. I was sure you were quite resolved to offer for me and I was selfishly hoping it would not be this night, so that I could think upon an answer. I do not wish to trifle with you. I loathe causing you pain. But it must be done now and it cannot be helped."
Darcy braced himself internally for what would follow, even though somewhere in his mind a tiny voice reminded him marble could not feel pain. He couldn't possibly hurt him. Crack him, yes she could. Reduce him to rubble, she most certainly would by the end of this teté-a-teté, but hurt him? No, there would be no capacity for pain in his cold stone chest.
"Nothing would make me happier than to say "yes" and have you petition my father this very night" as she said the words Darcy felt the shock ripple through him, turning his flesh back to its living, non-petrified state.
"But, "she continued and his heart, having just this second started beating again, stopped. "As much as I love you, Mr. Darcy, I cannot find it in myself to trust you. I cannot feel confident that while in one moment you are the best of men, the next you won't become a cold and demanding tyrant. It warmed my heart to watch you fall in love with me. But I also had to watch you fight with your attachment, determined to not capitulate. And while the good part of you, which made my heart sing, gave in to the inclination almost immediately, the stern and immovable part, which I detest, kept reigning it in."
"I cannot consent to marry you, because I cannot abide by the prospect of spending but one moment on the presence of the latter. Yet, I do not wish to be parted from the former. It hurts me to refuse you, but I feel it is unfair to remain undecided and keep you in a state of constant flux. You deserve the best, my dear, or at least that par of you I have come to cherish does, and the best in such a situation would be a resounding and confident acquiescence. That I cannot give you, so I remain with but one possible choice – to say "no" and allow you to grieve your loss and find another lady, a more deserving lady, to bestow your affections upon."
With that a single tear tumbled down her cheek and she turned around to leave.
Darcy had been much mistaken in thinking she could not hurt him more. The pain that ripped his chest and echoed through his body to the tips of his fingers and toes was like nothing he had ever felt. He could not imagine anyone could ever survive this. And yet he did not seem to die. Instead with every step she took away from him, the pain magnified tenfold and the more it hurt, the more Darcy's heart drummed with a determination to live.
She loved hm. Yet she could not marry him. She saw in him something that until this moment he had not realized. She was right in saying that his behavior and attitude had been contrary. Had he not though to save his friend from a fate he himself hoped to welcome? Had he not been proud and reserved, in agreement with Caroline Bingley about the country and its people yet he could not remember a time in his life he had felt happier than when at Pemberley and here in Hertfordshire – his childhood home and the home of his only love. Were they not both the countryside? How could he have been so duplicitous without even realizing?
Elizabeth had showed him his true face – or rather faces – and now he could not help but admire her ability to not only know him better than he knew himself, but also to love him, despite his flaws. How could he ever survive losing her?
He could not! He must not!
"Elizabeth!" Darcy called after her and almost ran to where she had stopped almost at the end of the hall. He stood a few feet away from her, not wanting to impose on her with his closeness, even though the panic and horror of losing her made him what to hold her and never let go to ensure that she would never be able to be away from him. She looked at him, her eyes questioning. He realized he did not know what he wanted to say. His eyes pleaded with her and were met with resigned but firm sadness. She would not be changing her mind.
"Please, "Darcy begged and in his desperation found words what could possibly make her stay, at least for a while longer, "Please let me become worthy of you. Allow me to show you that this dark version of me you sometimes see is but a habit that I need only dispense with. Let me show you that I can be the man you love and deserve!"
Darcy put all his desperate hope in this desperate prayer, hoping that with her uncanny ability to always know what he must be thinking, she will recognize his feelings and relent.
Elizabeth thought for a moment and then said bitterly:
"What would you say, Mr. Darcy, if in this moment I replied that my good opinion once lost is lost forever?" Upon seeing the shock and despair in his eyes she continued with a softer tone, "Can you not see, that it is not possible? You seem to think that you can expel from your self that, which I have professed to dislike. However I cannot help but think that both those people are the two sides of a Janus coin and that you may not be able to discern which one is your true face."
Upon an additional moment of thought she added: "I do believe people capable of change, however, and perhaps we may surprise each other yet. While I don't think that courting me would be wise at this point, Mr. Darcy, I do not wish to forcefully remove you from my circle of friends. I will not banish you and if you can bare to see me after tonight, I will welcome your company. But please, for my peace of mind – and yours – do try to be frugal in your hope. It does not give me pleasure to see you brook disappointment."
With that she walked away, leaving Fitzwilliam Darcy, one of the most influential and wealthy bachelors of London, alone in the dark, feeling like scared little boy. A boy who had to battle a great evil beast. And in the silence of the empty halls he could almost hear a clock ticking. How long did he have before her good opinion was irrevocably beyond reach?
Thanks for reading folks. Please rate and revue, feedback will be much appreciated.