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 Twenty

Saturday
October 19, 1811
approaching dinnertime

As the clock chimed six times in succession, Darcy remained impassively seated in a wingback armchair positioned before a dying fire. It was growing somewhat chill in his guest chambers, but he was so deeply entrenched in his thoughts that he could not be bothered to stir himself to stoke the dwindling flames into roaring life. Instead, he watched the embers flicker and pop whilst he considered the newest obstacle which separated him from Elizabeth.

Mr Bennet, his would-be – should-be – father-in-law was, in spite of all the potential advantages to himself and his family, stubbornly refusing so much as consider Darcy's suit. And why? Because he preferred to tie Elizabeth to a man of lesser consequence, albeit the heir to his own estate. And no amount of bargaining or pleading, at this point in time, seemed likely to move Mr Bennet from his position. It was in all ways inconceivable that he, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, the grandson of an earl, should somehow come up wanting against a man who had not even been born a gentleman! The son of an innkeeper, of all things, was his competition for Elizabeth's hand and he, Darcy, was the one rebuffed. It made such little sense that there must be more to Mr Bennet's thinking than what was before him, some other rationale that placed this Mr Collins above Darcy as a match for Elizabeth. It was incomprehensible that there could be anything which the son of an innkeeper could provide Elizabeth that a wealthy, highly connected landowner could not and so Darcy could not even begin to guess Mr Bennet's deeper motivations.

'Well,' he reminded himself again, hardening his jaw as his determination did likewise, 'I shall not give up so easily! This Collins might have the favor of Mr Bennet, but I have Elizabeth's. Surely, together we shall ultimately prevail.'

No, Darcy would not give way to his melancholy, not again. He was ashamed of his initial behavior after Elizabeth's disappearance from Derbyshire, drinking himself into a stupor and pouting like a child. Once his head had cleared from the throbbing consequences of strong spirits liberally applied, he had re-read Elizabeth's letter and, unlike during his first angry and despondent perusal, had found hope buried within the missive. They might have been separated, but she loved him still and he had the resources to find her. And find her he had, even if he had been taken aback to discover her amidst an uncouth public assembly. And her mother…

Darcy would not dwell on the shortcomings of Elizabeth's position and family. He loved her, most desperately, and if time and distance could not separate them, neither would a bit of...silliness.

Polite euphemisms regarding her behavior aside, it seemed that Mrs Bennet, at least, would be an advocate. She could be heard the night before, above the din of the chatting crowd, shrieking boastfully about Darcy's income and so he assumed that she would welcome him happily as a son. It was unseemly, but suited Darcy's purposes. He would set the woman up in luxury for the rest of her days if she could persuade her husband to gift him Elizabeth's hand in marriage.

Not that he expected a ridiculous creature like Mrs Bennet to be a great help in accomplishing his ultimate goal, but at least she could torment her husband while Darcy determined his next course of action. His first thought had been to send a letter to his solicitor and so he had gone straight to his writing desk upon returning to Netherfield earlier. However, he had gotten no further than the salutation before he had realized that the exercise was almost certainly pointless. Mr Bennet, no matter how stupid or self-injurious he was being, was well within his rights to reject a suitor for any reason. Others might call him daft and he was absolutely going to face some backlash over his short sighted decision, but his word on the subject was absolute. Darcy had thrown his pen down again in impatient disgust.

Next, Darcy had considered simply waiting, as patiently as he could, until Elizabeth had reached her majority; they could be married without permission from anyone the morning she turned one-and-twenty. Most unfortunately, according to Mr Bennet's information, which Elizabeth had not disputed, this event was not slated to occur until summer, a full half year – no, more than a half year – from the current date. Mr Bennet had further threatened to marry Elizabeth to this Collins by Christmas and, though Darcy absolutely believed Elizabeth when she said she would not be coerced into becoming another man's wife, this added yet more layers of complication to their situation. Would he be forced to call Collins out? By Mr Bennet's account, Collins was not yet a gentleman and so could not be held to the dictates ruling challenges upon the field of honor, so most likely not. This, at least, was a relief as Darcy abhorred the hot headed practice of achieving satisfaction with violence, even if he could accept that a few – a very few – circumstances called for it. Howsoever, Darcy preferred reason to rabble-rousing and was not disappointed to keep his rapier and pistols in their cases.

Then, of course, there was the ultimate betrayal of propriety, the single most scandalous method for circumventing Mr Bennet's will – elopement. Darcy was almost less inclined to take such a step than he was to challenge Collins to a duel, though not quite. Were he and Elizabeth to abandon all the strictures society put in place, disregard what they owed their families, the results of doing so would necessarily be tainted by the ensuing disgrace. His name, Elizabeth's, their families' would all be dragged through the sticky mud of dishonor should they make a desperate dash for the border. They would be shunned by many, whispered about by all and their union would be blemished by its disreputable beginning. Perhaps most seriously, and for Elizabeth in particular, it might also mean a permanent divide from the Bennets and all her current acquaintance. If Mr Bennet felt so strongly against their match as to vehemently deny it now, it was not a stretch to think he would forbid the rest of his dependents from ever speaking to Elizabeth again should she so publicly shame them. Darcy had already compromised her and an elopement would only compound that previous sin into something ugly and unforgivable. It could have far reaching consequences to the marital prospects of all her sisters, and Georgiana's, on top of everything else; innocents would be forced to pay the price of their folly and that was insupportable. No, they would not do anything so drastic if they could help it.

All of that said, however, Darcy would still make such a rebellious move if forced into a corner. Rumors would eventually die, their sisters could be dowered against the repercussions and, considering his behavior of late, it was possible that Elizabeth would not wish to associate with her father once they were married. It would be a difficult thing to overcome, but Darcy had the resources to minimize the impact if it came to that. He hoped that it would not, but he would never give up Elizabeth. Never. God forgive him for his selfishness, but Darcy knew down to the marrow in his bones that he would do whatever it took short of selling his immortal soul to make Elizabeth his wife.

A knock upon the door startled Darcy from his plotting. Belatedly, he bid the visitor enter. "Come."

Unsurprisingly, it was Bingley on the other side. He poked his sandy blond head into the room, grinning broadly, and said, "Darcy! Here you are. I have not seen you all day and assumed you were at Longbourn with your lovely Miss Elizabeth. Have you just returned?"

Darcy grimaced and ducked his head to glare at the dwindling fire. "No. I returned some time ago." He was not in the mood to expound further than that. "If you thought me away from the house, I wonder that you are here now."

Bingley, taking Darcy's responses as an invitation for further discourse, stepped more fully into the room and closed the door behind him. "Caroline sent me up to see if you were 'hiding from the infamy.' She wanted to come herself, but...I say, man, it is right cold in here!"

Before Darcy could tell his friend not to bother, Bingley had strode across the room to the bell pull and summoned a servant. While he waited for one to appear, he took up the poker and jabbed at the crumbling logs in the grate, rousing the flames only slightly.

Returning the iron implement to its stand, Bingley rubbed his hands together with fervor and turned back to Darcy. "There, that's a little better, I think. Why are you sitting all alone in the cold?"

Darcy sighed and dropped his head against the back of his chair. He was too weary to deflect his friend's curiosity and might as well have this conversation soother rather than later. No doubt the entire neighborhood would be full of speculation once no engagement between himself and Elizabeth was announced and Bingley, as the true resident of Netherfield Park and most likely to be affected by the gossip long term, deserved to know something of the truth amidst the scandalous whispers.

"My suit has been rejected," Darcy explained simply, though the situation was by far more complicated than that.

Bingley, who was easier to read than a salacious novel, stared at Darcy in the aftermath of this proclamation with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Do you mean that Miss Elizabeth rejected you? And after that scene from last night?"

"Not her." Darcy shook his head in the negative fashion and huffed another sigh full of impatience and fatigue. "Her father. Mr Bennet objects to the match and will not sanction it."

Now Bingley looked distinctly alarmed. "Do – Do you think he is unlikely to grant courtships with his other daughters?"

Darcy clenched his eyes shut a moment as he gathered the composure to respond without snapping. When he opened them again, he resumed his perusal of the weak fire, concentrating on the listless glow of the remaining flames as he cooled his temper. "Bingley," he began through the tight weave of his gritted teeth, "could you please focus? You only met Miss Bennet last night and, in any case, as the eldest she is of age; she may defy her father if she wishes."

"Sorry, old chap," said a sheepish Bingley, his shoulders slumped in the wake of Darcy's chastisement. "I panicked a moment there. Miss Bennet is the most angelic creature I have ever…," Bingley trailed off when Darcy looked away from the fireplace to glare at him. "Ahem, but that is not important right now. Why has Mr Bennet denied you consent? Was he offended over what happened at the assembly?"

Darcy sniffed with some measure of derisiveness, this time his irritation all for the absent Mr Bennet, and flicked his hand at the chair next to him to indicate that Bingley should stop loitering and sit. His friend took him up on the somewhat rude invitation and dropped into the matching wingback facing Darcy. "No – well, yes, of course he was offended – but that was not his reason for rejecting my suit. I did not mention this before, but Elizabeth and I have been acquainted for some months longer than I originally led you to believe."

Bingley unleashed a spasm of a laugh, more of a snort than anything, drawing another glare from Darcy. "I never would have guessed."

A thin smile spread across Darcy's lips as Bingley's amusement became his own. "I can see that I was fooling no one."

"I should say not."

"In any event, I met Elizabeth over the summer when she visited Lambton with her aunt and uncle..."

The (somewhat abridged) story of Darcy's courtship with Elizabeth poured from his mouth like water from a pitcher. It was a relief to have a sympathetic ear who was not his younger sister to tell it to. Darcy only omitted some of the more intimate details – such as his "accidental" meetings with her during her walks, that heart-racing episode beneath the chestnut tree and that sweet kiss upon their bridge – but all the necessary details were fleshed out for his friend's edification.

"...and I did not like to tell you before because I had no real expectation of finding her here and, as I am sure you are already aware, I find it prudent to keep my more sensitive affairs private whenever possible. Further, should it become widely known that I was searching for a lady's whereabouts, more than one reputation could be damaged. This is a faithful narrative of all that has occurred in relation to my apparently doomed courtship of Elizabeth Bennet," he concluded, full of weary exasperation.

"I presume your wish for secrecy relates to my sisters?" Bingley, whose initial shock had melted into baffled comprehension sometime during Darcy's retelling, surmised. "If not, I shall feel quite insulted at your lack of faith in my discretion."

Darcy shrugged, a noncommittal answer. In truth, Bingley was something of a blabbermouth, though he never meant to be, and so Darcy had made an intentional decision to withhold the information from his friend. The potential consequences of Miss Bingley or Mrs Hurst discovering his attachment to another lady had been foremost in his mind when Darcy had considered whether or not to be open with Bingley, but there was admittedly more to his reluctance to share than simply that. Bingley was a gregarious man with a wide circle of friends who had yet to learn the value of discretion. It was safer for the reputations of all involved to play his cards close to his chest.

In all fairness to Bingley, however, Darcy likely would have only told one other person – his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam – when secrecy otherwise could have been maintained and largely for the sake of gaining assistance in locating Elizabeth. Darcy was a naturally private person and had learned many times in the past, courtesy of an old so-called friend, that sensitive information was best kept to oneself wherever possible.

"I can understand why you would," Bingley carried on. "Caroline would be insufferable if she thought she had competition for your favor. Louisa, I believe, could be counted upon to take our sister's view of things."

Darcy just managed to withhold a sneer at the thought of Miss Bingley becoming somehow more intolerable than she was presently, but did not disagree with his friend's assessment. Of course, now that Darcy had staked his claim of Elizabeth so publicly, he supposed that Miss Bingley might allow desperation to drive her to new heights of manipulation. It was too much to hope that she would simply withdraw from the field unless he could announce them as actually engaged. But with the current state of affairs…

No matter, Darcy always made a habit of locking his doors at night when staying under the same roof as single – and sometimes unhappily married – ladies. Further, his practice of avoiding situations in which he would be alone with these aforementioned single ladies would serve him well. He had even attempted as much with Elizabeth before he had realized that he could not deprive himself of her tempting company. Darcy's lack of caution where she was concerned should have informed him much earlier that he was falling in love.

Moreover, Darcy had already compromised Elizabeth before nearly everyone she had ever known, so no machinations of Miss Bingley's or her toadying sister could possibly supersede that of his beloved. He could not very well marry two ruined ladies, nor could he throw over the first for a grasping second, and he hoped that Miss Bingley recalled that before she did anything irreparably unwise.

There was a long stretch of pondering silence before Bingley broke it to offer reassurance. "Well, I am certain that Mr Bennet will come around eventually, Mr Cotton – "

"Collins."

" – Collins or no. He would be the greatest fool alive not to reconsider! Especially since..."

Darcy shook his head. "Mr Bennet apparently feels that any scandal caused by my...impetuosity last night will be mitigated by Elizabeth's marriage, the identity of the groom of no import. I think he underestimates the power and nature of the gossip should Elizabeth wed anyone but myself, but so far he has been implacable in the face of all reason. I hope, when he has had time to consider things more thoroughly, or perhaps when the rumors begin in earnest, he might see reason, but…," Darcy paused, his feelings on the subject too riled to proceed for a moment, and then continued, "He has already divided me from Elizabeth in the most dramatic manner – and more than once – so I fear that all attempts to persuade him will be for naught."

"Have you thought to write your solicitor for advice?" suggested Bingley, the furrow in his normally smooth brow and the disheartened quality of his voice indicating that he was struggling to offer a better solution.

Darcy understood Bingley's frustration, felt it in greater quantities himself, and despondently explained to his friend that he had already concluded that a solicitor would only remind him that Mr Bennet's power over Elizabeth's future was absolute until she reached her majority. "No, that will not work."

"I would say you could elope, but – "

"No. Not unless there is no other way," Darcy cut Bingley off before the temptation to do something unwise rose up in him again. He had been struggling against his inclination to simply ride back to Longbourn, scoop Elizabeth up and carry her away to Scotland and damn all the myriad consequences. He would not do something so desperate. Not yet.

"Yes, I thought you would say as much," replied Bingley, his half smile weak and rather grim. "It was not a true suggestion, in any case. Too much collateral damage."

"Indeed."

"Still, there must be something you can do," insisted Bingley, rubbing his chin with the points of his thumb and forefinger, his habit whenever concentrating on something challenging. Darcy had noticed this proclivity while they had been at Cambridge together. After a few seconds, Bingley's eyebrows rose higher onto his forehead and he straightened up, this new animation indicating that he had a new thought. "Perhaps if you spoke with this Collins chap instead – "

Bingley's promising advice was cut short by the entrance of a pair of chattering maids, both of whom were unpardonably tardy in attending to Bingley's long forgotten summons, their guilt compounded by insufferable giggling over some fresh piece of gossip. One of them was carrying a basket piled up with wood for the neglected fire and the other was empty handed as if she had no business being there in the first place.

"It is true, I tell you! That snobby Mr Darcy is engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I heard it from Maggie down in the kitchens, who got it from the butcher's boy, who got it directly from Gabby Winthrop – you know, the housekeeper of the solicitor's wife, Mrs Philips."

Without even acknowledging – or, perhaps more likely, not noticing – the gentlemen already in the room, the second maid who was lugging the firewood countered, "And what would she know about it anyway? She's a right old gossip."

"Don't you know that Mrs Philips is the aunt of – oh!" The first maid, a chubby freckled thing with mousy brown hair, halted in place. Her eyes grew wide in something akin to fear as she finally noticed that the pair of them were not as alone as they had thought. It must have been something of a shock to realize that they had been overheard by none other than their temporary master and his guest, the one they had been spreading tales about. The maid bobbed a hasty curtsy and, once her companion had followed her horrified stare, the other did so as well.

Darcy, normally inclined to dismiss such lazy and gossipy servants on the spot, instead stood and walked closer to the pair, excitement and hope thrumming in the center of his chest. "You there – what were you saying?"

"'Tweren't nothing, sir," the first maid denied, her voice pitched high into a squeak. The second kept her head bowed as if she hoped not to be noticed at all.

"You are not in trouble," Darcy assured them quickly, though he admitted silently that they should be, "I just wish to know what you have heard."

"I – I – "

With this obvious sign of trembling hesitation, Bingley stepped forward and, in an attempt at a stern manner, insisted, "Tell Mr Darcy what you have heard." The implied threat of dismissal might have been stronger had Bingley not smiled to soften his command.

The maids exchanged anxious glances but, perhaps recognizing that there was little choice, the first maid swallowed thickly and began to speak. "I...I have heard just this mornin' – beggin' yer pardon, Mr Darcy – that the gentleman is en-engaged to Miss Elizabeth over at Longbourn. Her aunt, Mrs Philips, is spreadin' it 'round."

"So the entire neighborhood believes me engaged to Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy clarified, hopefully.

"Yes, sir."

"And it was announced by the lady's own family?"

"Yes, sir."

Darcy turned to Bingley, a new eagerness suffusing his features as elation filled him. "Do you know what this means?"

"Er..."

"Mr Bennet, in the face of an accepted engagement, must relent! To do otherwise would only damage the reputations of all further. For Elizabeth to marry – " Darcy cut his speech to the quick, having already said too much in front of unfamiliar servants, but his enthusiasm remained. He returned his attention to the two maids and announced, proudly, "I am, indeed, engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You may feel free to confirm this to others."

The maids curtsied again, clearly bewildered by this turn of events – to not only escape a scolding but also become privy to a gentleman's affairs directly from his own mouth would be strange, indeed – and then dismissed themselves quickly, the fire entirely forgotten.

Darcy cared nothing for such details. The news that they had brought was far more warming than any external source of heat could be. Mr Bennet's hand would now be forced and Darcy could marry Elizabeth, perhaps within the month as soon as the banns had been read – sooner if he could procure a special license. He would have to write his solicitor after all and...but that could be attended to later. For now, it was enough to bask in victory and spread the good news of his betrothal to all and sundry.

"Erm, Darcy, considering the fact that Mr Bennet has not given his consent, should you be promoting an engagement to Miss Elizabeth amongst the staff?" was Bingley's concerned query.

Darcy slapped his friend on the back and replied, most cheerfully, "If I deny the betrothal, or even remain silent about it, Elizabeth's reputation – and that of all her family, since they themselves are spreading the rumor – would be damaged beyond all repair. To marry her to another at this juncture would only worsen the scandal. As a gentleman, I have an obligation to prevent such if I can. The fact that doing so promotes my own cause is merely an added benefit." And a most gratifying one, at that. Darcy would not have been so underhanded as to publish an unsanctioned betrothal, but he could not deny that he was grateful that someone had. He would purchase this Mrs Philips a new carriage once he and Elizabeth were properly married.

The clock struck the next hour, putting Darcy in mind of dinner which he suddenly found himself famished for. "Come, let us dress. I have an announcement to make to the household."

o0o

Darcy bounded down the main staircase, practically skipping, half an hour later on his way to the main drawing room. Would it not be entirely unseemly, he would have also been whistling a jaunty tune, so lightened was his mood since discovering that his problems of the morning had essentially resolved themselves. He would be paying Mr Bennet another visit in the morning to press his suit again with the hope of more acceptable results. In the meantime, he would bask in his forthcoming success.

At the base of the stairs, Darcy's attention was arrested by the sound of raised voices echoing down the hall from the direction of his intended destination. More sedately, he walked forward and approached the drawing room, hesitant about interrupting a dispute to which he was not a party.

The footman stationed outside the drawing room door bowed and Darcy bid him with a silently raised palm to forestall letting him inside. The young man straightened again and, upon recognizing Darcy's signal, stood at attention against the papered wall to wait until he was ordered to do otherwise.

From beyond the closed door, Darcy could hear the high-pitched shrieks of Miss Bingley, muffled only slightly by the barrier between them. It was not difficult to recognize that she was incensed over something or to determine exactly what that something was.

"And I shall dismiss each and every one of them who tells such vile, unfounded lies! How dare they spread such disgusting rumors under my roof! As if Mr Darcy would ever, in a thousand years, offer for that scheming, greedy – "

"Caroline!" Bingley's scandalized tones interrupted. "Do not speak of Miss Elizabeth in that fashion! She is a gentlewoman."

"A gentlewoman!" Miss Bingley scoffed, her voice still elevated to that of a near scream. Her tantrum was obviously in full swing if she was incapable of moderating her volume. "That – that adventuress? Did you see how she threw herself at Mr Darcy at the assembly?"

"I saw what everyone else saw, that Darcy made the first move."

"Impossible! I do not believe it for one instant."

"Caroline – "

"She not only assaulted Mr Darcy, but now she is attempting to use her own execrable behavior to ensnare him! Well, I will not have it – Miss Eliza Bennet will not profit from her scheme. Charles, we will close up Netherfield immediately and return to London forthwith."

"We will do no such thing." Bingley's voice was lower and somewhat less decipherable through the closed door, but Darcy could understand well enough. "And I will ask you again to moderate your language in regards to Miss Elizabeth; she is a lady and not at all to blame. Further, I have had it from Darcy himself that the engagement is real."

The sharp inhale of a dramatic gasp was the immediate response to Bingley's declaration of fact. "Lies! Mr Darcy would never offer for such a grasping fortune hunter, no matter how she compromised herself! She is not even handsome and her sense of fashion is severely lacking; I have not seen that cut in Town for at least two Seasons. No, you are entirely mistaken, Charles. It is in all ways impossible!"

Darcy, determining that it was time to intervene, nodded at the footman who sprung to attention to open the double doors separating him from the interior of the drawing room.

As Darcy was stepping across the threshold, Miss Bingley was continuing her shrewish diatribe without cessation, having yet to notice her guest's arrival. Her back was turned to him, but the others within the room – Bingley, of course, and the visibly unsettled and silent Hursts – perked up at his entrance. Their eyes remained trained on Darcy as Miss Bingley carried on, heedless of the growth in her audience. "...I will speak to the housekeeper immediately and inform her that we are leaving on the morrow. Mr Darcy is not beholden to that tart, no matter what rumors are flying about, and I will see that he is protected from her machinations. Let her ruin herself!"

"As a matter of fact, Miss Bingley," Darcy interrupted; Miss Bingley jumped and whirled around, her eyes wide with surprise and her face reddened by her lingering anger, "I am beholden to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I have proposed and she has accepted. We hope to be married before the year is out." All true, albeit with a few key facts omitted and some embellishment added.

The scarlet hue spread across Miss Bingley's face began to drain away, leaving patchy splotches on her forehead and cheeks as she stared at him with bafflement. "But – no, I do not believe it. How could you reward her for – ?"

Darcy narrowed his eyes into a glare and directed the ire therein at Miss Bingley. "If you are referring to the kiss at the assembly, I must point out, as your brother already has, that it was I who instigated it and not Elizabeth. My behavior was unpardonable, but in no way the fault of its object; Elizabeth is entirely innocent."

Miss Bingley stamped her foot as her temper began to rise again. "That is not possible! You only just met her the other night!"

"To the contrary," Darcy shook his head from side to side in the negative fashion, "our relationship predates the night of the assembly by some months. I spent all last summer courting her while she was visiting relatives in Derbyshire. I would have announced our engagement sooner, but I wished to speak with her father first." Again, all technically true if not the whole, unvarnished reality.

"NO!" Miss Bingley followed up her exclamation with a screech which caused all within the room with her to either flinch or cover their ears. She paced around the room, repeating "no, no, no" like a chant, and stomped her feet across the finely woven carpets as she made her circles. Miss Bingley's fists were clenched and flying about her without heed to either person or object and creating the most obscene racket Darcy had ever had the misfortune of hearing. Even Georgiana as a child had never made such a display.

Bingley was sunken down into his chair and looking equal measures of shocked and fearful. Hurst, who had been practically dozing upon Darcy's entrance to the drawing room, was now fully awake and watching his sister-in-law with bleary caution. Mrs Hurst was looking pale and horrified with her hands cupping her mouth as she witnessed her younger sister come unraveled before them all. Darcy observed the scene with outward impassivity, though inside he was greatly disturbed; he had always known that Miss Bingley was somewhat irrational in her thinking, what with her pretensions to becoming Mistress of Pemberley with no encouragement from himself, but had not considered her mentally unbalanced. Should they call a physician?

After several minutes of allowing Miss Bingley to storm about, howling invectives against Elizabeth and the impossibility of Darcy's announcement, Bingley finally stirred himself from his astonishment at the display and leaped from his chair. Grasping Miss Bingley by the shoulders, he at first attempted to soothe her, but his sister would not heed his ministrations. When it became clear that she would not stop, Bingley shook her until she wobbled like a rag doll. "Caroline! Get control of yourself, for God's sake!"

Finally, she ceased her caterwauling and scowled most ferociously at her brother. Miss Bingley's chest was heaving as if she had sprinted around the room, her hair was coming free of its intricate coif and her chartreuse gown was crumpled and askew. It seemed that she had entirely come undone in the face of Darcy's news.

"Louisa," Bingley looked to his other sister, who startled at being addressed, "please escort Caroline upstairs where she can recover herself. I shall have a tray sent up for her."

Mrs Hurst nodded and rose slowly from her seat, her frame trembling. Once she had ascertained her balance, she came forward, slipped her arm through Miss Bingley's and began tugging her sister toward the door. Miss Bingley followed reluctantly, but having apparently recovered some measure of her composure did not protest verbally or try to resume her flailing. Instead, Miss Bingley raised her nose into the air and followed Mrs Hurst's lead from the room with as much dignity as she had left (admittedly, it was not much).

Darcy, still standing between the rest of the party and the doorway, stepped quickly to the side as the sisters drew closer, watching the younger warily. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst exited out into the hallway without any further unseemly overtures or explosions of temper and, once the discomfited footman had closed the door on their backs, Darcy released an exhale of relief.

The gentlemen who remained in the drawing room were palpably silent in the wake of Miss Bingley's exit and stewed in their own discomfort for several minutes. At length, however, the awkwardness was broken by an unexpected source. "So," grunted Mr Hurst after clearing his throat, "dinner?"

Author's Note: Official halfway point! Unless I stupidly add more chapters again...ugh, knock on wood that I won't.

I normally let Miss Bingley have a little more dignity, but I've already written so many scenes where Darcy reveals his engagement and simply walks away that I decided to go a different way with it this time. It was pretty fun :) Miss Bingley won't have too much impact on the plot from henceforth since we've already got enough antagonists to be getting on with, but this is also not the last we've heard from her, either. Won't say more just now.

Also, I know y'all are clamoring for an elopement, but I just can't see the characters (steady, dutiful Mr Darcy especially) going immediately to that as a solution to their problems without trying something else first. Not that they can't be driven to it, but remember that an elopement is a shameful thing; in the original, even before the Bennets realized that Mr Wickham had no intentions of actually marrying Lydia, they recognized that all their reputations had been tarnished by her poor behavior. I won't say here and now how it will all end up, but for the moment they're NOT going to elope for all the reasons Darcy illuminated above.

THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed and offered support on the last chapter in regards to my Note on Etiquette. I recognize that I'm very lucky in that most of my reviewers are very polite and even flattering, I just wanted to warn the few bad apples that their negativity is not wanted here. I adore and appreciate all of you who offer either compliments or (civil) criticisms and feel very fortunate that my stories seem to be so popular. You guys are absolutely the best and your commentary keeps me motivated!

Next Update: May 1, 2020
Expected Completion: July 24, 2020

– MrsMarySmythe