A/N: First things first - to quote the legendary Douglas Adams: 'Don't Panic'. All will be as it should be.
WOW! Quite a strong reaction to the last chapter, which leaves me insufferably smug. Don't think anyone saw that one coming! I think it's one of my best, and there seems to be some agreement. I gauge reaction by number of reviews, and a guess to the fervency of them. When measured by Reviews/View or Reviews/Chapter, this is the most reviewed chapter I've ever written, with about 10x the usual. The # of reviews matches my #2, which is Raging Jane from Chapter 10, so I thank you all for the lovely and useful comments.
Now, how about a little sausage making. For the very astute and trivia obsessed, I will say that the last line, "Find the woman you can marry without apology" is paraphrased from Vikings. Of course, like our Jane I am deviating just a tiny bit from the original, since in that case, Ragnar Lodbrok says, 'I die without apology', just before they dump him into a pit full of snakes, so naturally I had to reuse that in a Hunsford Proposal. Who wouldn't? In the interest of only minimal spoilerage, that line will be important later.
Back 21 chapters ago when I gave readers the choice of a short and long version, I had not the slightest idea what the long version would be. It took about a week for the story arc to come into some kind of focus, and all I had at that point was that one line, and the corresponding line that will match it later. That became the foundation for the longer version.
A few are asking for a short resolution, but I fear you'll be disappointed. This is after all the long version. I expect another 5‑10 chapters but take my estimate for what it's worth since all I'm sure of is one scene in the penultimate chapter. Today we have a bit of calm before the storm, although after the last chapter, this storm will be more like a little rain shower if that.
Wade
A very confused Mary Collins stepped into her parlor to find a large assortment of pasteboard boxes, a disassembled dollhouse and her sister sitting on the floor in the middle of it with tears rolling down her face. She shooed her husband past and went to her sister. Mr. Collins glanced at the tableau and did as he was bid. He was a man with enough sense to stay out of women's business. If they wanted his help, they would ask for it.
Mary walked boldly in, or as boldly as she could without stepping on any of the boxes, sat down beside her sister, reached around her shoulder, and said, "It seems you had a delivery, a visitor or both. Which has reduced you to tears, my dear?"
Elizabeth snuffled a bit, and said, "As to the first question, I had both – a delivery and a visitor. As to the tears, well… I imagine they come from both, though they are vastly different tears for vastly different reasons."
A bit confused, Mary looked around, and Elizabeth said, "Let us start with the easiest one. This beautiful dollhouse is Jane's betrothal announcement. The question has been asked and answered."
Mary smiled in pure unadulterated joy, squeezed her sister even harder with both hands, and said, "I am so so happy!", but then looked at the dollhouse in a perplexed way.
Elizabeth said, "It makes sense to me, but I cannot tell you why."
Mary scooted closer to the dollhouse, looked inside, saw all three dolls, and said, "You did not tell me you had a second awkward matrimonial conversation… though I shall certainly not fault you for keeping it to yourself. It seems obvious to me that you somehow pointed two overly private people in the right direction, so this must be thanks as well as announcement?"
Elizabeth laughed a bit, and said, "You are entirely too clever for your own good, Mary. You are correct, but we shall speak of that story no more. Their situation has resolved itself in the way it should be resolved."
"So you approve of Mr. Jameson?"
Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, there is no simple answer to that. Of course, I approve of him. He is a lovely man. On the other hand, I feel I should not be voicing approval or disapproval. They are both grown, and they decided together. That would be good enough for me, whether I liked him or not."
"Yes, I can quite agree", said Mary, "but I cannot say it does not make it better that you do like him. Jane has liked many a stupider person."
They both giggled, and Mary asked if Lizzy wanted some tea. She nodded, so Mary went over to build up the fire and put the kettle back on. In Longbourn, nobody would ever make their own tea over the fireplace, but in Hunsford Cottage, with only one maid of all work and a cook, it was the done thing.
Once the fire was started, and the water was heating, Mary said, "Well, I can understand tears of happiness for Jane, but that was not what I witnessed when I came in."
Elizabeth sighed, and said, "No, I suppose not. Your guess was correct. I did have a visit, and it has left me… disconcerted."
"Lizzy, disconcerted is when you raise an eyebrow or say something impertinent. You are far beyond disconcerted, though I cannot for the life of me think of a mathematical way to express it."
Elizabeth giggled a bit, and asked, "Who am I going to have to lift me out of my funks when you are surrounded by Little Williams and Marys?"
Mary blushed, and said, "Well, funny you should ask, Lizzy. I cannot promise you lots of them, but all signs are for one in the fall. I believe I felt the quickening just this evening. You are the first to know. I have not even told my William yet."
Feeling so much happier she wanted to jump up and dance, very carefully around her big boxes, she just smiled and hugged her sister's legs, since she was still sitting on the floor most inelegantly, and Mary was still standing waiting for the tea water to heat.
Elizabeth wanted to start chattering happily about all things baby-related, but Mary looked at her with the closest approximation to sternness she could manage.
Elizabeth laughed, and said, "I am glad you have years to perfect the stern mother look, Mary, as that one is not the least bit frightening."
Mary laughed, but she saw the underlying tension that her sister was trying to disguise with humor, as usual, and Mary for one was having none of it.
"All right, Lizzy. Enough procrastination. How did your Mr. Darcy leave you in tears?"
Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well Mary, as I have previously asserted, he is not my Mr. Darcy… less so now than ever."
"What did he do? Do not tell me he offended you or did something improper! I am quite willing to set him on the straight and narrow path."
"No, no… There is nothing to censure him for… I…"
She paused, and let a few tears roll from her eyes, and said, "He told me admires me and loves me… then he proceeded to tell me in some excruciating detail how inferior I am, but then asserted he would overlook all those things if I would marry him."
Mary stared at her sister for a moment, not quite as surprised as one might think, and said, "Well, Lizzy… I will agree that is horrible, but… well… you never told me about William's efforts, but you see that, in the end, he was not irredeemable. Was it that bad?"
Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Purely objectively, the two were similar. You have no idea how lucky you were though Mary. You just wanted a roof over your head and a respectable position, but you struck gold. You lucked out with William."
"And you think Mr. Darcy does not have hidden depths?"
"Well, the thing is… I think I knew, though I would not acknowledge it to myself, that your William was mostly just awkward… as is Mr. Darcy when you get right down to it. However, in objective fact, you are William's equal and it took him almost no time to work it out. Mr. Darcy on the other hand thinks of me as definitely inferior to himself, which by the measures he is accustomed to using, I am. Where William was getting an elegant well‑educated gentlewoman who raised his consequence, Mr. Darcy would be getting an educated woman of less elegance than he might expect, who would lower his consequence. In the end, he would resent me."
"Are you certain Lizzy. All it took was the right wife to bring William out of his shell."
Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I can only go with the numbers, Mary. At the beginning… well… at the very beginning, I felt something. It felt like the beginning of something beautiful, something meaningful, something beyond beautiful; but then within a minute or two he just stomped it into the dust. I can assure you that had you been in the room, you would not have been able to hear William's proposal either. You were saved by not having to hear it, while I was not. Some things are very difficult to un‑hear."
"All the same, Lizzy, I ask again. Is there not a chance Mr. Darcy might be redeemable?"
Elizabeth sighed, stared at the fire a moment, and said, "I have not just been wallowing, Mary. I have also been thinking hard. I asked myself the same question over and over and…"
"Go on."
With a great sigh, Elizabeth continued, "Perhaps there might, but I am not willing to be his downfall. Look at it this way. Your William knew you only eight days before your betrothal and did not pay any attention to you for at least five of those. It took him less than three weeks to become the man you see now. Mr. Darcy has known me for over five months. We spent four days cooped up in the same house together in Netherfield, and we have been in company for weeks here. He has met me in the park way more than is proper, and in all that time, he never came to a true understanding of who I am and what I need. He never once asked about my feelings. Should I hope that the pure power of my charms might make him a better man?"
Mary stared at her sister for a moment, then sat down on the sofa and leaned her chin into her hands. Flippant answers were not her forte, and she wanted to think all the way through it.
Elizabeth heard the kettle boiling, so went to prepare the tea, and to give her sister time to think.
When she came back with the tea several minutes later, Mary said, "Well, I assume you declined him. How brutal were you? I know you have a temper."
"I was the kindest, gentlest I could possibly be. You would hardly have recognized me."
"So, there is no hope?"
"Perhaps, had I been even more moderate, I might have held him off for a bit, or maybe asked for a courtship instead of a betrothal, or delayed my answer, but… I… I… I just could not… not in that moment. I am terrified of becoming like our mother. I know it is irrational, as you and I both have ten times her good sense, but… I cannot enter such an unequal union. I will need a strong husband, just as you need William and he needs you. Mr. Darcy does not need anyone at all. He wants me, but that is far from the same as needing me. He said outright that he spent months fighting the attraction. I would be opposed by his family, his friends, and even his better judgment."
Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I do not… I cannot… Mary, I just cannot be the spoils of a lost battle. I do not know if it is my pride or my self-respect, but I… I just cannot."
Mary nodded, and took a few sips of her tea.
Elizabeth said, "Even if I could… which I cannot… no man would ever propose a second time. Of that, I am certain."
Mary sighed, and said, "I am not so sure as you Lizzy, but… well, it does seem unlikely."
They sat sipping their tea for a while, then Mary asked, "So, the tears, Lizzy. Are they tears of relief, tears of loss, tears of pain or tears of joy?"
"Yes"
They sat in silence for a few minutes, and finally Elizabeth said, "Do you know the worst part?"
"What was that, Lizzy?"
"There was a moment, a short fleeting moment, when my heart started to… not to soar as the poets say, but to… I cannot know how to say it… not soar per se, but it became aware that soaring was something that was possible. For just a moment, I was intrigued by… possibilities."
"And you think it now impossible, because of one awkwardly worded proposal?"
Elizabeth sighed, and said, "It is not that simple, Mary. It was not the five minutes of the proposal… it is the four months he spent, by his own admission, trying his very best to escape the trap of his infatuation. It is the years and years and years of being the mighty oak to the maul of his family's expectations. I cannot… no, I will not compete with that… but just for a moment… just for the most fleeting moment… even if it was only an instant… I felt like I could."
Mary sighed, and said, "I cannot fault you, Lizzy… I truly cannot. You could not change your nature any more than he could, and whilst it might have been possible for the two of you to have a truly great love story, I can see that there are just too many things against you."
Elizabeth reached around to hug her sister, and said, "Enough! So, you are feeling fluttering and spasms! Shall I call for your salts?"
With a smile and gentle laughter, both sisters laughed a bit until they cried. Then they got up, carefully reassembled the dollhouse, and put all the big boxes back together.
Elizabeth seriously considered leaving in the post in the morning to make Mr. Darcy's leave taking easier but decided that sent the wrong message. She would walk as she always did. She would be in the parsonage for callers as she always was. She would… she would… she would… she would resume her life, but it would never be quite the same.
