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
Happy Easter Weekend! If you're not celebrating, happy weekend :)

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 Eighteen

Saturday
October 19, 1811
8 o'clock in the morning

At only barely eight o'clock in the morning, Bennet found himself already out of sorts, a condition which generally did not plague him until his wife bothered to stir herself from her bed. The earliest portion of the day tended to be peaceful, quiet and, in contrast to the remainder of the hours between sunrise and sunset, blissfully free of silliness in all its forms. Only Bennet himself, the servants and his most sensible daughter, his clever Lizzy, tended to be awake so long before breakfast and, as a result, the master of Longbourn began each day on a high note of tranquility and rationality.

Most unfortunately, his favorite daughter's – he would not deny it to himself, Elizabeth was his decided favorite amongst his offspring – habit of rising early for a solitary walk was presently a source of consternation to him. In general, he praised her for taking morning constitutionals, considering them a healthful and practical use of her time as well as empathizing with her need for solitude on occasion, but after what had happened the previous evening Bennet was anxious to speak with Lizzy before further damage could be done. He had hoped, rather optimistically, it seemed, that his Lizzy would have slept through the dawn after such a late and emotional night, but when Bennet had inquired of the housekeeper whether or not she could yet be summoned to him, Mrs Hill had responded that his intrepid second eldest had gone out for a walk, per her usual routine. Normally, this report would not have been a source of much concern to Bennet, but with that Lothario in the neighborhood –

Though Bennet – and most of his acquaintance, he was sure – would describe himself as a temperate man, anger and offense raged through him at the thought of the young buck who had turned his Lizzy's head and humiliated them all by compromising her in front of the entire neighborhood. Darcy, his name was. Pah! 'Devil,' more like. Whispering sweet nothings into Lizzy's ear, turning her against her own father, ruining Bennet's peace and all his carefully laid plans...as his dreadful wife would say, it was not to be borne! What right had this Darcy fellow to flout Bennet's authority over his own daughter, pray? It did not matter one jot if Darcy was the richest man in Derbyshire, Bennet was the head of his own household and his decisions must be obeyed!

Thanks to this Darcy, however, Lizzy would barely look at him anymore, much less speak to him with any measure of the civility and affection she owed her pater. Bennet had half a mind to ask Mary to read one of her extracts themed around honoring one's father and mother some evening after dinner, but refrained only because he would be forced to listen to it, too. And he also doubted that he could maintain a stern visage during the portions which cautioned children to honor their mothers. Perhaps he could prod Mary to do it and then adjourn to his study for a calming glass of port instead. Yes, that would do.

Bennet's gaze traveled out the window into the vividly blue autumn sky, marred by only a few thin scars of wispy cloud here and there, and then cast it slightly downward to skim the horizon of gently rolling hills. Lizzy always returned from her walks by breakfast time, even if only just barely, and, now that it was nearly half-past the hour, she would surely make an appearance soon and he could lure her into his book room for that conversation they needed to have. It was imperative to rein in her expectations after last night's scene at the assembly and remind her, in case she had conveniently forgotten, that Darcy's suit had already been rejected. It would not do to allow her to think for too long that Bennet was movable on the subject as he most decidedly was not.

Bennet, however, was dreading the confrontation to come. He would avoid it if he could, but even he knew when he was cornered; he would likely have to deny Lizzy's girlish whimsy – hmph, love, indeed; love had done nothing for him all these years – with greater force this time and become more explicit about his expectations for her future. She would be angry at first, but Bennet was convinced that, with time, her good sense would reassert itself and she would learn some gratitude for what he had done for her. After all, she should consider it a great honor to –

Bennet's eyes widened and then narrowed as movement beyond the window pane caught his attention. "Blast!" he cursed, launching himself out of his chair and nearly toppling it to the floor in his haste to get a closer look. There, against the backdrop of trees bordering the estate, was the unmistakable silhouette of a man and young woman linked together by the hands coming toward Longbourn. In his distraction, Bennet had not noticed them until after they had crossed the property line and onto the somewhat smoother expanse of the withering lawn. It was Lizzy – and that Darcy. Damn and damn again!

When had they the time to plot a rendezvous behind his back? Bennet had whisked his daughter away from that sly, honey-tongued scoundrel as quickly as he had been capable the night before and it was not as if they had been speaking when he had come upon them. Quite to the contrary, by the time Bennet had responded to the commotion in the dance hall and abandoned his card game, they had been – it did not bear thinking about, especially not when the morning meal was nigh.

The pair of them were now nearly to the front door and grinning in a way that would sicken any father with daughters. No doubt Darcy had gone and complicated things – again, curse his hide – by proposing to Lizzy directly. Well, he would find no more success this morning than he had at the assembly! What nerve, to force the issue with a compromise and then come at an improper hour to smugly collect his prize. Bennet felt a flash of hatred that burned within his chest.

Just as he heard the front door open below, Bennet dashed back to his chair and threw himself into it. He scooted himself closer to the desk while simultaneously straightening his crumpled waistcoat – a pointless gesture, really, considering the garment was growing rather tight around the middle and therefore resisted any reordering – and settling himself into his seat. Once all of this was accomplished with fumbling speed, Bennet leaned into the threadbare cushion, steepled his fingers against his chin and waited for the knock which would announce his unwanted visitor. He glared at the wood between himself and the hallway and mentally girded himself for battle.

At length, the expected knock came. "Come."

To his surprise and dismay, Lizzy herself preceded the despicable Darcy – yes, Despicable Darcy was a fitting moniker for the self-satisfied young man before him – and greeted her father with more cheer than she had shown since before leaving on her godforsaken summer tour. "Good morning, Papa! I was out on my walk and happened across Will – Mr Darcy. He would like to speak with you."

Bennet narrowed his eyes slightly at his daughter, her grinning facade irksome to him in a way it had never been before, but could detect no prevarication in her tone. An unfortunate coincidence, then. Hmph. "I see."

Despicable Darcy bowed sharply and then approached Bennet's desk, full of haughty assurances of success in his endeavor if the complacent smirk hovering about his mouth was any indication. "Mr Bennet," the cad began, "I have just this morning requested Miss Elizabeth's hand in marriage and she has graciously granted me her acceptance. I know that there has been some...misunderstanding between us in the past regarding my intentions, but I hope this will settle all that. I humbly request your permission and blessing to marry your daughter."

When Darcy the Dreadful – hah, another excellent epithet – finished his speech, full of arrogance and not an ounce of doubt, Bennet reveled for a moment in the knowledge that he was about to say something unexpected. After inhaling a deep breath which expanded his chest, Bennet said quite simply, "No."

Darcy blinked once. Twice. A third time before Bennet recognized the dawning of comprehension on his pretty, rakish features. A quick glance toward Lizzy told Bennet that she had understood sooner than her would-be beau, evoking a flare of pride in her old papa. His Lizzy had always been sharp.

"I – I beg your pardon?"

"I hardly think I could have made myself any clearer, young man," Bennet wryly quipped. Lizzy's face clenched more deeply with offense in response and she was beginning to look quite red, indeed. "However, if you require a more elaborate answer, I have no qualms in providing one. I am denying my consent to your betrothal. Frankly, after what I said to you last evening, I am surprised you would even bother to ask. Now, if you would be so kind as to leave – "

"Papa!" Lizzy interrupted, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping open in outrage. She had never resembled her mother quite so closely before and Bennet stifled the urge to roll his eyes – or laugh – at her blatant disrespect, knowing that to stoke her ire now would only prolong their disagreement later. "Mr Darcy has finally proposed, as I have always said he would, and yet you still refuse us? What can your objection possibly be now?"

Darcy's hand nearest to Lizzy reached out and clung to hers, provoking Bennet to glare at the gesture. Lizzy, perhaps recognizing her father's reaction for what it was, tucked their conjoined fingers within the folds of her skirt and out of view, though the set of her jaw indicated that she had no intention of doing more to appease him. For now, it was a battle Bennet was determined not to fight, however, and he ignored it as the Dread Mr Darcy began to speak. "Mr Bennet," the younger man's features were earnest and slightly tinged with panic, "I swear to you – "

"Enough, both of you," Bennet's eyes darted between the floundering pair, "my decision is final and I will not be importuned on the subject further."

"No!" cried Lizzy with more feeling than politeness. "After all that has transpired, you owe us more explanation than that. What reason could you possibly have to deny our betrothal?"

When she managed to calm herself, Bennet would have a word with her about respecting her elders and himself, in particular. She was beginning to mirror the behavior of her younger, sillier sisters and Bennet would not stand for it; Lizzy was better than that. "As I have already explained to Mr Darcy – and more than once, I might add – I have already promised you to another. Considering you have already been affianced these past fifteen years at least, I can hardly engage you to another gentleman at this late date. I am sorry, Lizzy, but so it is."

Bennet delivered this proclamation in something like his usual sardonic tone, hoping to soften the blow somewhat and encourage Lizzy to see the humor of the situation, but he grew alarmed as, instead of behaving petulantly as he had expected, his daughter instead visibly paled and began to shake. Lizzy stared at him, her eyes round and shining, as if he had risen from behind his desk and struck her.

Before Bennet could so much as stir from his seat, that Damnable Darcy had sprung forward, despite the grim expression upon his own face, and gently directed Lizzy to sit in a nearby chair. His hands – which Bennet wished to smack away from his daughter, but dared not when she was so unstable on her feet – rested upon her lower back and the point of her elbow as he slowly lowered her into the seat.

Once Lizzy was situated, Darcy straightened himself, set his expression into one of implacable stubbornness and took his turn. "Mr Bennet, if Elizabeth is engaged to another as you say – "

"Miss Elizabeth, young man – or really, Miss Bennet as my eldest is not currently present – and I suggest you not forget it again," Bennet corrected sharply. As he had long suspected, Lizzy's disrespect of late could be laid at this young buck's door, yet another offense to attribute to the Detestable Darcy.

"Miss Bennet," the cad amended through gritted teeth. "If she is indeed betrothed elsewhere, I find it strange that you are the only one who appears to be aware of it. Miss Bennet swore to me this morning that she is not, and has never been, engaged to another and your brother, Mr Gardiner, contends that he has never heard such a thing, either. I am beginning to believe that this so-called betrothal is nothing but a ruse to deny my suit. What can I do to convince you that I am in earnest about marrying your daughter? I love her deeply, I can provide for her more than ably – "

Bennet held up his hand, palm first, to halt Darcy's speech. "I will you stop you there, Mr Darcy. Though it is a family matter and therefore not a concern of yours, I can assure you that Lizzy's betrothal is very real and of long standing. She is not available to become your wife."

"Who?"

Both gentlemen swiveled their heads in the same direction as their attention was simultaneously drawn by the soft, warbling interruption. Lizzy still looked worryingly ashen, but her expression was at least more collected into an odd mixture of solemn and beseeching features. If Bennet had to guess, based on his twenty-year experience with her, he would say that Lizzy was maintaining an admirably strong facade in the face of supreme disappointment. He had not seen her look so since he had been forced to sell the family pony when she had been eight.

"Who am I supposedly engaged to?"

Bennet sighed and dropped his gaze to his lap, the intensity of Lizzy's accusing stare beginning to unnerve him. He covered this moment of cowardice by pulling off his spectacles and pretending to polish them with a cloth he used for the purpose. "My heir, Mr Collins."

"Mr Collins?"

"As I said." There was a moment of terse silence between all parties in which Bennet replaced the spectacles upon his nose and then looked up to the couple before him. Seeing plainly that they were expecting yet more elaboration, Bennet breathed deeply and began, "When you were very small – about three, I think – my cousin, Mr Joseph Collins, approached me about the entail, claiming that there had been some irregularities about the succession. His contention was that my grandfather had not the right to pass over his firstborn son for the second – from whom we are descended – and a lot of other complicated nonsense. In any event, he was prepared to take the matter to the courts and cause a lot of hassle for everyone. To spare us all the headache and expense of defending against a lawsuit, we came to an agreement which would suit everyone involved; should Joseph Collins abandon his complaint, I would guarantee William Collins, his son, a wife from amongst my daughters. Should I ultimately bear a son – and, at the time, we had not yet despaired of one coming along – the younger Collins would at least have the consolation of a genteel bride, something that the son of an innkeeper, no matter how well-to-do, could hardly aspire to. Joseph, whose primary concern was his son's future as a gentleman, agreed to my terms."

Damnable Darcy was glowering at Bennet, as if a rich man with the world open to him had any right to judge a man in his situation. "But then why must Elizabeth be the bride in question? Have specific articles been signed designating her as the younger Collins' choice?"

Ignoring the blatant acrimony in the younger man's tone, Bennet continued placidly, "Once it became apparent that Mrs Bennet and I were not to be blessed with a son, I determined that my best course of action was to select one of my daughters and train her in the care of the estate, to make her my de facto heir, in essence. Lizzy, as the cleverest," and, again, his internally acknowledged favorite, "was the natural choice."

Lizzy looked increasingly appalled throughout Bennet's explanation, though color was, thankfully, beginning to return to her cheeks, even if it was splotchy. After a stretch of angry quiet, the air practically vibrating with the outrage radiating from Lizzy, she eventually broke it to say, "I will not."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I will not marry Mr Collins," Lizzy clarified, her facial features hardened into implacability. "I will marry William and no other so you may as well send your regrets to Mr Collins now."

"Now, see here, Lizzy – "

"No!" Lizzy sprung to her feet, startling Darcy into falling back half a step and Bennet himself into sinking deeper into his chair. "I love William, he loves me and I have granted him my promise to marry him. I have not so much as met Mr Collins, much less accepted a proposal from him, and I will not honor a committment made for me out of fear of being inconvenienced by a frivolous suit!"

"I will remind you, Elizabeth," Bennet said, his ire beginning to rise again in the face of his usually proper daughter's defiance, "that you are not yet of age and are therefore subject to my authority. If I do not give you permission, you may not marry Mr Darcy or any other man not of my choosing. As you will not reach your majority until the summer, and I anticipate a wedding to Mr Collins by Christmas, you may go ahead and accustom yourself to the idea now. I am very sorry to disappoint you, but so it is."

"I repeat," replied Lizzy, her voice nearly a shout and her fists clenched tightly by her sides, "I will never marry anyone except William. Even if you drag me to the altar, I will say 'no' when the rector asks me if I take Mr Collins to be my husband. Then, when I have reached my majority, William will come for me and you will not be able to stop us from marrying."

Bennet stood so that he would tower over his daughter, though he remained at least a head shorter than Devilish Darcy. "You will obey me, Elizabeth – "

"Or what?" she countered in a shrill tone reminiscent of her mother. "You will cast me from the house into the hedgerows?"

Though tempted to make threats exactly to that effect, Bennet deflated. They both knew that his affection for her would never allow him to cast her out, no matter how angry he was. Even should he do so in a fit of madness, she could easily seek asylum with Dreadful Darcy or the Gardiners, both of whom had expressed their disapproval of Bennet's scheme to part the pair before him in no uncertain terms. Bennet sighed and dropped back into his seat, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips in a pointless attempt to assuage the tension therein. "Regardless," he said, ignoring Elizabeth's challenge, "my decision stands. I am sure you will reconcile yourself to the inevitable soon enough."

This time, the silence fell around them all like a smothering weight. Bennet kept his eyes hidden behind his palm, unwilling to see the expression on his favorite's face. Not if he hoped to ever sleep again without seeing the accusation in her large, sweet eyes. Those which used to gaze upon him as if he were the only man in the entire world. This was exactly why he allowed the ladies of Longbourn to do as they pleased; it was by far better to let them have their own way than suffer the fallout of their disappointment.

"I will never forgive you for this."

After this quiet admonition, one which wounded Bennet more deeply than he dared to show, he heard the crisp rustling of skirts, the squeal of a hinge and the rapid pitter-patter of fleeing footsteps race away down the hall. Scant seconds later, the sound of a door slamming with violent force. Most wrenching of all, however, was the choking sound of a parting sob.

"This is not over," Darcy the Deplorable declared out of Bennet's line of sight. Immediately thereafter, the stomp of a pair of boots announced the villain's departure. The hard thud of the door against its frame indicated that the young man had at least some measure of politeness in granting Bennet the privacy he had been craving this half hour.

Good riddance.

With yet one more sigh, Bennet dropped his hand away from his eyes and blinked in the suddenly painful sunlight. He was not certain that the meeting would have gone much better without Darcy mucking up everything with a proposal and his unwanted presence, but Bennet was still partial to blaming the young man regardless. Had he not allowed Lizzy to go to Derbyshire, had she never met such a stubbornly persistent man, she likely would have accepted her fate as Mr Collins' bride with more grace than she had shown today. Instead, now she regarded her dear papa as a hateful ogre who had denied her a treat instead of a father doing what he felt was best – and easiest – for his family. Bennet could only hope that she would see sense with time and would thus wait for her pique to dissipate before approaching her again on the topic.

In the meanwhile, though he had hoped to delay a little longer, Bennet determined that it was time to begin putting some things into motion. He shuffled around on his desk until he found a blank sheet of parchment and then uncapped his bottle of ink. He dipped his pen into the ebony liquid, swiped an excess droplet from its tip against the rim of the jar and began writing.

My Dear Sir,

Though it pains me to roust you so soon from the bosom of your beloved patroness…

Bennet jumped when the door to his study flew open with sudden force, the result of his jerky movement being that the beginning of his letter was now illegible due to the smear of ink which ruinously marred it. Bennet stared at the figure suspended between the door frame, too stunned as of yet to be angry at the interruption.

"Oh! Mr Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in uproar. You must come and make Mr Darcy marry Lizzy, for he has just left the house in a high dudgeon and if you do not make haste I fear he will not return."

The irritation delayed by Bennet's shock upon the mode of his wife's entrance surged within him and he threw his pen down upon the desktop. Would he achieve no measure of peace this morning?

With resignation, Bennet addressed Mrs Bennet, hopeful against reason that he could cut this interview short. "Do come in, Mrs Bennet."


!Chapter 17! For those of you confused by the events of last chapter, please know that they occurred the morning after the assembly, a scene which was detailed in the prologue to this story. If you don't remember the specifics, I recommend going all the way back to the beginning to refresh your memory. For future readers, I have added a note at the top of Chapter 17 with this suggestion.

o0o

Author's Note: Awe yeah, new POVs! From now on, we're not only switching between Darcy and Lizzy, but also Mr and Mrs Bennet to extend the scope of our story. Now we'll get to see behind the battle lines of both sides. Up next, we get to see, up close and personal, Mrs Bennet's reaction to all of this. What do you think she'll do/say?

Also, I suppose that the mystery is at least mostly solved now. Papa Bennet will have more to say on the matter as we go along, but this was the "big reveal." I hope no one is too disappointed; I got a lot of wild guesses and, I must say, y'all give me too much credit for being able to put together so much angst in one story. Some of the ideas were really interesting and creative and I'd love to see them written one day.

As I'm writing this chapter, the Quarantine situation regarding COVID-19 is still ongoing. I rather hope by posting day some of the restrictions have been lifted, but we'll see; whatever is best for the community. Got cabin fever yet? I stay home with my kids, so it's kinda same old/same old at our house, save for the empty grocery stores. (UPDATE: Yeah, not so much. It's getting worse out there.)

I hope that all of your loved ones are all healthy and well. And Happy Easter Weekend!

Next Update: April 17, 2020
Expected Completion: July 24, 2020

MrsMarySmythe


Guest Review Responses – RE: Chapter 17

I won't normally add this section to my author's notes, but sometimes a Guest Reviewer asks a question or makes a comment that I would like to respond to. Hence, the below.

Guest, Ali – I understand your confusion as we jump from Darcy looking for Lizzy to having already found her. However, the assembly scene which was referenced in Chapter 17 was the prologue to this story; we've now circled back to the aftermath :) Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.

Guest, Ancalagon – I appreciate your support! I honestly would like to increase my posting schedule to give my readers stuck at home because of COVID-19 something to do. I can't do much else to alleviate the crisis, so I'm hoping to do that (if I can). As for the details of the assembly, as I said above to Ali, the scene in question is the prologue to this story and should fill in some gaps for you if you reread it. Thanks so much for reading and all of your lovely encouragement!