Title: Dare to Refuse Such a Man
Rating: K+ (PG) – because I can't think of anything at this point which would constitute a higher rating. Should be sweet and clean.
Disclaimer: Though I write stories based on the novels and characters of Jane Austen, this work belongs to ME and no one else. Unless given express permission, no one besides myself has the right to distribute or profit from my intellectual property. All rights reserved.
Setting: Regency

Summary: It had never occurred to Fitzwilliam Darcy that, once he had chosen a bride, her father might dare to refuse his consent. However, a woman worthy of being pleased is also worth fighting for. DE, Regency, clean romance.

"He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything which he condescended to ask."

Mr Bennet, Pride and Prejudice Volume III, Chapter 17


Chapter Thirteen

Thursday
August 15, 1811

Elizabeth sat in dazed happiness as she and the Gardiners trundled their way home from the dinner party at Pemberley, thinking fondly – more than fondly – of the master of that great estate. The longer their courtship continued, the more certain she was that she was ready to marry him, if he would ever ask her. Thus far she had been frustrated by his reticence on the matter, though she told herself that she was being unreasonable in expecting his addresses if he was not yet inclined to give them, and she greatly wished he would either come to the point or dissolve their present understanding. The latter thought caused her great pain, but she would at least no longer be dangling upon the tenterhooks of anticipation if their romance were to come to an end.

What kept the irrepressible smile upon her face this moment, however, was the suspicion that Mr Darcy – her sweet William, as she referred to him when no one else was around to hear – might finally be prepared to offer those proposals she had so impatiently waited for these last few weeks. As their party had donned their cloaks, hats and gloves for the journey to their temporary home, William had very gently touched her elbow and led her to the side of the foyer.

"Miss Bennet," he had said in a voice loud enough to be heard by the company around them. Eyes darting about the space before resting them back upon her face, he had then continued in a much softer tone, "Elizabeth, might I...that is, would you grant me the honor of a private interview tomorrow?"

Elizabeth felt the same jolt of excitement pierce low in her belly as she recalled how pleasantly surprised she had been by the request and what it must mean. His face had sported an earnest expression, one that betrayed an endearing apprehension as he awaited her reply, and she had been charmed by his guileless eagerness.

"Yes," she had replied, the single word rushing out of her as it clung to her exhalation. "I would be happy to grant you a private interview, Mr Darcy. William." She had whispered his name at a register low enough only for him to hear.

Their gazes had remained locked upon one another's as William had lifted one of her hands and brushed his lips gently across her glove-encased knuckles. "Until tomorrow, then."

"Yes," she had repeated, her heart beating so rapidly that it felt as if it would burst free of her chest and submit itself directly into his possession. He already owned it, after all.

"Are you well, Lizzy?" queried her aunt, breaking Elizabeth out of her reverie. Much the same thing had happened earlier when her family had reminded the couple, with indulgent amusement, that it was time to part from one another.

Elizabeth turned her head to her right where her Aunt Gardiner was seated beside her on the ladies bench of the carriage, smiling in that knowing fashion she sometimes did when she suspected that one of her nieces was holding something close to her chest. Laughing, because she could hold it in no longer, Elizabeth replied, "Oh, yes, very well, indeed!"

Mr Burns, sitting directly across from her, snorted a little in his sleep at the sharp bark of her mirth and resettled himself in another position, his head lolled back against the seat cushions and mouth drooped slightly open. Beside him, her Uncle Gardiner's attention was turned toward his niece, a smirk of similar import to his wife's curling at one corner of his mouth. "This would not be in any way related to Mr Darcy, would it?"

Elizabeth, though hardly ashamed of her feelings for the gentleman in question, could not help a blush and the downward flick of her eyes. "Perhaps," she admitted coyly.

"What has he done to make you glow in such a way, Lizzy?" Aunt Gardiner nudged her lightly with the elbow between them.

"He…," Elizabeth paused, biting her lip as she tamped down the excitement which was threatening to bubble forth without filter, "he requested a private meeting with me. In the morning."

As Mrs Gardiner exclaimed with joy and pivoted in her seat to embrace her niece, Mr Gardiner said, "He did, did he?"

Elizabeth, over her aunt's shoulder, glanced toward her uncle to see him smiling at her with wry indulgence. He did not seem in any way perturbed by Elizabeth's news, but rather amused by it somehow.

"He did," she agreed as Aunt Gardiner released her and settled back into her own seat. "Is aught the matter?"

"No, no," replied Uncle Gardiner with a chuckle, "I am simply amazed he was patient enough to wait so long."

"It might not be a proposal," she reminded them all, cautioning her own heart to rein in its expectations lest she be disappointed in the morning if he simply wished to discuss a book or his sister. She could not imagine why he would require a private meeting for such a conversation, but it would not do to inflate her hopes just yet.

Uncle Gardiner laughed again, this time a hearty guffaw. "Nonsense! He has been wanting to make his offer since he first approached me a month ago. I suggested a courtship, in absence of your father's consent, but I suspect he has been growing impatient awaiting Bennet's response. Honestly, it is much to the credit of his honor that he did not simply ignore my caution and propose already. I am much impressed with his fortitude."

Elizabeth's heart again began fluttering rapidly against the inside of her ribs as if it were ready to take flight and return to Pemberley. "Truly?" She hardly dared to believe what her uncle had said.

"Truly," he replied, the smile on his face crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Can I assume that you are inclined to respond favorably to him when he asks you this most important question?"

Elizabeth's cheeks were beginning to ache as her grin strained them. "You may."

In the middle of her aunt's renewed felicitations, the carriage lurched to a stop in front of the parsonage. Elderly Mr Burns was nearly pitched to the floor as he came awake with an exclamation – "I say!" – but was luckily kept in his seat by his diligent son-in-law's quick, steadying hand. As this was occurring, the door of their conveyance was pulled open and a hand thrust inside to assist the passengers out.

Elizabeth, as the closest lady to the exit, placed her gloved palm upon this offered appendage and, careful not to trip over her skirts, descended from the equipage with its assistance. She turned her head slightly with the intent to thank who she assumed must be her uncle's manservant, but the words dried upon her lips as she stared upon the familiar personage with surprise. Without any forethought at all, she exclaimed, "Papa!"

o0o

While Aunt Gardiner settled her father above stairs in his room, Elizabeth and her uncle sat with her own in the parlor, still dressed in their evening wear and looking politely puzzled at the sudden acquisition of their unexpected arrival. The Bennet patriarch seemed unusually anxious, his generally droll expression pulled taut in some form of vexation as his fingers drummed an incessant pattern against the arm of his chair.

After sitting in this attitude for some minutes, each member of the party staring silently at the others in their circle, Mr Gardiner cleared his throat and began, "Thomas, we had not expected you. If you had sent word, we would have happily been present to greet you upon your arrival."

"There was no time," replied Papa, shifting his legs to cross one over the other. "I only just left Hertfordshire yesterday morning."

Elizabeth exchanged a startled look with Mr Gardiner before both resumed their attention on her father. "Yesterday morning? I hope there is nothing amiss at Longbourn. Is my sister well? The girls?"

"Yes, yes," replied Papa with a dismissive wave of a hand. "They are all as nervous and silly as they ever were."

"Then, forgive me for being so frank," Mr Gardiner raised his eyebrows meaningfully at his brother-in-law, "but what brings you with such haste all the way to Derbyshire? If there is no emergency requiring personal announcement, I cannot account for why you have paid us this unexpected visit."

Papa squirmed in his chair again, first untangling his legs to rest upon the floor and then resuming his former posture as if indecisive as to how to accomplish some measure of comfort. His fingers which had danced upon his chair arm lifted to his face where they cupped his chin, rubbing absently at the whiskers growing wild along his jaw. "I have come to take Lizzy home."

Elizabeth, who had been happy enough to allow her uncle to take point in this interview, was startled enough to cry out, "Take me home? But why, Papa? I am not due to leave the area for almost three weeks yet!"

"You are needed at home," Papa said simply, as if this explained the matter to any reasonable person's satisfaction.

"I am needed at home?" she repeated, some of her incredulity seeping into her tone. She did not mean to question his authority, but her bafflement was such that she required a better explanation than he had yet offered for his sudden appearance, strange behavior and abrupt change in her plans. "After being away for two months together, I am suddenly required back at Longbourn?"

"Yes," was all he said in return.

Elizabeth attempted to meet her father's eyes, but they flitted away from her gaze every time she attempted to engage them. "But why?"

Papa grunted something that was only partially intelligible – something to do with estate business or her mother's nerves, Elizabeth was not entirely sure which – and fell silent again. He was being evasive, hiding something, but what? And why?

"Thomas," broke in Mr Gardiner, his expression crumpled into a frown as he leaned forward with his elbows against his knees, "I believe I speak for both Lizzy and myself when I say that we are confused by this sudden urgency for her to return home. Surely there is no reason to deprive her of the last weeks of her holiday just to help you with your books or to mollycoddle my sister."

Papa shrugged, dropped both of his hands into his lap and proceeded to stare at where they rested upon his thighs. "As I have said, Lizzy is needed at home. I am sorry to be curtailing her enjoyment, but we must away."

"And you could not have sent a letter to this effect?" asked Mr Gardiner, his eyes narrowing and his brow furrowing deeper.

"Ah...I felt it was best to retrieve her myself," said Papa.

"With only one overnight stop?"

"Yes."

"And there is no emergency?"

"No."

"Thomas," Mr Gardiner huffed an exasperated sigh, "what is going on here? I can, obviously, do nothing to stop you from taking Lizzy home, but I would wish to know what this is all about. I feel as if we are speaking in circles and cannot make heads nor tails of your explanation, such as it is."

Papa shrugged again, sparking a little flame of ire within Elizabeth. Having become used to William's blunt honesty, she had apparently lost some of her patience with her father's roundabout ways in regards to information he did not wish to divulge. He avoided confrontation whenever possible, even when it was better to be simply out with whatever the matter was.

"Very well," said Elizabeth, curtailing in the irritation she was nurturing within, "if that is your wish, I shall be ready to leave with you and return to Hertfordshire at your leisure. Perhaps after you have rested some days – "

"We leave in the morning," Papa interrupted, cutting her words to the quick.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Elizabeth repeated, "In the morning? But, Papa – "

"I have already taken the liberty of ordering the maid to pack your things," he interjected with a briskness he did not usually exhibit. "We shall be ready to depart at first light."

Swallowing down the inclination to repeat his words back to him again, Elizabeth pressed on with her objections to his scheme. "But, Papa, I have...I am expecting someone to call tomorrow. Surely we can wait until after he has paid his visit to be on our way."

Her father began shaking his head before her sentence had been completed. "No, I am afraid not. We leave at first light, as I have already said. Your...friend will simply have to bear the disappointment of losing your company. I am sure your aunt and uncle will be happy to deliver your regrets."

Mr Gardiner, to whom this last statement was aimed, stared at him as if his brother-in-law had just announced himself King of England and was preparing to hand them all over to the rule of that troublesome little Corsican across the channel.

"You do not understand, Papa," Elizabeth tried again as her uncle gathered his wits. "Mr Darcy has been courting me this last month and has requested a private interview. I am sure...well, I believe I hope – that he is intending to propose. I mean to accept him if he does and so cannot leave the country without seeing him. I should like to introduce you – "

"No," replied Papa, more firmly. "I am afraid not, Lizzy. It is...unfortunate, but our plans will remain arranged as they are."

Elizabeth's heart was beating hard, frantically trying to escape and return to William where it truly belonged before it could be taken from his reach forever, and her breaths were coming in short, panicked gasps. Her vision blurred and she blinked rapidly to clear it, realizing as she did so that her lashes peeled away from each other moist with tears.

She jumped when a gentle hand touched her elbow and looked to her uncle, who was speaking to her. His voice was dim in her ears, only barely audible above the throb of her heart. "Calm yourself, Lizzy. I am sure we can work something out," Mr Gardiner soothed before turning back to her father, his expression set in a more rigid cast. "Come, Thomas, what harm is there in letting the young man have his say before you leave? I wrote to you of his intentions some weeks ago – did you not receive my letter?"

Elizabeth's attention darted back to her father and found him looking away from her. "I did, two days ago."

"Then you know Mr Darcy is serious in his attentions to Lizzy," persisted Mr Gardiner, his impatience evident in his tone. "That he means to make her an offer."

"Perhaps he said that..."

Elizabeth jumped to her feet, shaking her Uncle Gardiner's hand loose from her arm and approached her father, hands wringing themselves against her belly. She stopped just before his chair and implored him with her tearful eyes as much as her voice, "Papa, please. I – I care about William very much. I love him. Do not do this, do not take me away before I can speak to him."

Papa finally raised his eyes to look directly at her, but the expression in them, one of implacable firmness, was of no comfort. "I am sorry, Lizzy, but this is my final word on the subject. We leave in the morning and you are not to see this young man again. I forbid it."

"But I – "

"Go to bed, Lizzy," said Papa, soft and yet unyielding.

Elizabeth stood there before her father as her heart ceased its struggling and, instead, seemed to cave in upon itself as if it had been crushed within his fist. She felt almost as if she could die from this feeling as pain rushed in, very nearly physical, and sucked the air from her lungs.

Before she could suffocate on her own misery, however, a sob clawed its way out of her throat and released the pressure in her chest, enabling her heart to resume a limping pattern and her breathing to stutter back into function. Almost at the same moment, her feet began propelling her backwards toward the door of the parlor, inching away from the place where her hopes lay bleeding upon the floor at her father's boots, as if subconsciously encouraging her to escape.

Papa, his face morphing into a gentle tenderness that she recognized, reached out one hand to her as she backed away from him. "Lizzy – "

The sound of his voice attempting to placate her broke whatever spell of anguish that had held her in place and Elizabeth spun around, away from her father, and darted to the open doorway where she longed to escape. Her Aunt Gardiner stood in her path, eyes wide and mouth slackened in horror, but moved aside as Elizabeth rushed past and into the corridor beyond. She took immediately to the stairs and clamored up them, her feet pounding a tattoo against the wooden planks as she ascended and sought the sanctuary of her bedroom.

Down below, she could hear her aunt enter the fray in the parlor through the still open door. "Thomas! What have you done?"

o0o

Friday
August 16, 1811

Elizabeth slept in fits and starts that night, unable to achieve true repose due to her agitation but so exhausted by her emotions that she was equally incapable of staying alert. She did not dream, but each time she woke she could hear her father's voice telling her that she would never see William again or saw her beau's dear, handsome face painted before her against the black canvas of the dark. She could not reconcile herself to what had happened, could not understand why her father would not even meet William before rejecting his suit – it was all utterly incomprehensible to her.

And what would William think when he arrived for his promised interview to find her gone? Would he believe she had abandoned him? That she had been cowardly and slunk away in the night to avoid seeing him? Would he doubt her feelings for him, so tenderly expressed in thousands of little ways these past weeks?

It seemed almost inevitable that he would. William was a strong, confident man in many respects, but she knew that his tender feelings for her were delicate and unsure; he had been cultivating them carefully, wary of expressing himself too precipitously lest she break his heart. She never would have, of course, but he had been so cautious to approach her as himself and not the Master of Pemberley, presenting the man rather than the fortune to her notice. She imagined that there were not many women who would have rejected him, but equally few who would have accepted William as himself rather than what he could offer them.

With the lightest traces of dawn creeping over the horizon in the distance, Elizabeth threw back her bedclothes and walked over to the small writing desk in the corner of her chamber where various writing supplies belonging to the parsonage were laid out for her usage. She sat down in the chair provided, ignoring the sting of cold as she did so, and pulled a sheet of paper toward her. She grasped the sharpened pen she had intended to use on a letter to her dear sister Jane and dipped it into the pot of ink seated in the upper right hand corner of the desk.

Lowering the tip of the pen, a drip of ink quivering on its point, to the page before her, she began to write.

My Dearest William…

o0o

Less than an hour later, Elizabeth was dressed and outside on the drive, her bonnet upon her head and her cloak tied about her throat. The Gardiners were there to say farewell as the pair of Bennets loitered next to their carriage, faces alternately stony and sympathetic. Frozen in displeasure for their brother, softened in melancholy for their niece.

"Write to let us know you arrived home safely," said Mrs Gardiner to Elizabeth, her hand leaving the warm comfort of her shawl to rest gently upon Elizabeth's upper arm.

Elizabeth nodded, her throat too tight to speak her acquiescence.

"And give your mother and sisters our love," continued her aunt, her mouth tightening into a flat line and her eyes drooping in sympathy.

Elizabeth nodded again and, flicking a quick look to her father's back as he spoke to a surly Mr Gardiner, withdrew the letter she had prepared for William from within the drape of her cloak and presented it to her aunt. Mrs Gardiner's eyes widened slightly and her brows raised, clearly aware without any explanation as to what her niece was asking.

"Oh, Lizzy, I do not know if I can – your father would not approve," she said, very quietly so that they might not be overheard by the gentlemen.

Elizabeth found her voice for the first time that morning and, though it was hoarse from the strain of her emotions, said, "Please, Aunt. If I am never to see him again, I...I cannot allow him to think it was my choice to leave. He deserves more than that."

She felt herself absorbed into Aunt Gardiner's arms in a one-armed embrace, a kiss at her temple, and the unmistakable sensation of the letter whispering against the tips of her fingers as it was removed from her possession and resigned to that of her aunt's. With a quick flash of ivory, it disappeared beneath Mrs Gardiner's shawl.

"Thank you," croaked Elizabeth as she pulled away, eyes seeping yet again with tears, "for everything."

"Come, Lizzy, it is time to go," announced Papa from behind her.

She kept her head bowed, unable to look at him, as she backed away from her aunt and climbed into the carriage without assistance. Elizabeth settled herself into her seat and rested her head against the window frame, eyes listlessly fixed upon the motion of her relations and the final preparations of servants as they readied to depart. She swallowed as bile began to rise from her stomach into her throat, keeping the nauseating despair at bay – at least for the present moment.

"What's this?" she heard her Uncle Gardiner ask, somewhat brusquely.

Elizabeth's eyes slid to where her father was standing, holding out what appeared to be a letter for Mr Gardiner to take. "Please see that this is delivered to the appropriate person."

Mr Gardiner looked down at the paper now suspended between his fingers, his nostrils flaring in unmistakable anger, as he said, "I suppose it is generous of you to leave with some word, though it is much less than he deserves."

"Yes, well," said Papa in that way which was meant to curb a growing dispute. He then quickly changed the subject. "Thank you for hosting our Lizzy. We shall look forward to seeing you at Christmas."

Mr Gardiner grunted, but made no more specific reply. Perhaps he was, at this moment, disinclined to make any promises about future visits to his Bennet relations. Considering the volume and tone of the argument she could hear seeping up through the floorboards the night before between her aching sobs, it was little wonder that he had reservations about seeing his brother-by-marriage again anytime soon.

Papa tipped his hat to the couple and mounted the lowered steps, hauling himself into his private equipage and with the same motion seating himself across from his daughter. The carriage squeaked as it shook from side to side and had only barely settled again when he rapped upon the roof with his cane, a signal for the driver to begin their journey. Outside, Elizabeth could hear the snap of the reins and a short, sharp whistle from the coachman as a prelude to the sound of clopping hooves and the crunch of gravel beneath the carriage wheels.

"Well, Lizzy," said Papa once their journey was officially under way; he was smiling in his usual sardonic fashion, though the effect was somewhat weak at the moment, "it shall be good to be home, eh?"

Elizabeth said nothing, merely turned her head away from him and fixed her gaze out the window. She was in time to catch a glimpse of the little stone bridge that connected Lambton to Pemberley as they trundled past.


Author's Note: Yeowch, we begin the angst with a bang. I would not expect the next few chapters to be warm and fuzzy if I were you, but it's only temporary (swear). I have promised before and I will promise again that an HEA is at the end of this primrose path.

Next Update: March 13, 2020

Expected Completion Date: July 24, 2020

MrsMarySmythe