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
PSA: I hope that you and yours are safe and healthy during the COVID-19 crisis. Take precautions for yourself and others and please don't hoard any goods that your family doesn't need; we're all in this together, even while we remain physically apart.

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 Thirty-Eight

Tuesday
November 26, 1811
Early Morning

Bennet longingly fingered the neck of his port decanter, but resisted the urge to pull out the stopper and pour himself a glass. It was far too early to indulge, for one thing, and for another he must maintain a clear head for his duties of the day. There would be time later that night, when he was all alone, to toast his bittersweet melancholy.

Sighing, Bennet pulled his hand away from the crystal and slumped back in his chair. According to the watch dangling from his waistcoat, he would be leading Lizzy up the aisle to that Dastardly Darcy – he was allowed to think of his almost son-in-law in unflattering terms one last time since, after all, the Despicable, Deplorable, Degenerate Darcy was going to take his precious girl from him today – and ceding her future into his hands. No more would she be Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but rather Mrs Elizabeth Darcy, wife to Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy. The Dastard.

Oh, Bennet was not truly opposed to the match any longer; he had made his peace with his Lizzy's happiness some days past, little though he had wished to concede to it at the time. Darcy, in spite of his unforgivable sin of removing Lizzy from Longbourn, was truly the sort of man he should wish all of his daughters to marry. He was honorable, honest, loyal and apparently willing to do whatever was necessary to protect Lizzy, even against her own father. Darcy had been right to do so and Bennet was forced to acknowledge that he deserved her. As much as any man possibly could, of course.

No, his discontentment had little to do with Darcy himself and everything to do with how very much he was going to miss his precious, precocious Little Lizzy. Bennet's eyes wandered, as they had frequently of late, to the dented chair in front of his desk where Lizzy used to sit and keep him company. She was the only one of his children who had ever shown the inclination to do so, the only one to share his deep love of literature and the only one to display that spark of cleverness which had enchanted him from her earliest days.

Bennet chuckled as he recalled one of his favorite memories of Lizzy from when she was only three years of age, scampering about and causing the sort of trouble Jane had never shown a propensity for. For whatever reason on this particular day in Bennet family history, his Lizzy had woken early from her nap – if she had ever laid her head down at all, of course – and sneaked down from the nursery on the hunt for whatever mischief she could find. When the nurse had discovered her missing, the house had been launched into immediate uproar, Fanny shrieking and carrying on as each room and outbuilding was searched. But where was Lizzy? Curled up under Bennet's desk, flipping nonchalantly through an atlas. Bennet had discovered her quite by accident when he had returned to his study to fetch a map of the estate, planning to organize the servants into a search party, and scolded her some minutes for giving everyone a fright. Then he had asked her why she was hiding beneath his desk and Lizzy had responded, with a slight lisp common in children her age, "It is where you always hide."

At the time, Bennet had laughed, deeply and fully, at her answer. It only occurred to him now how ashamed of Lizzy's accusation he should have been for it was true; he spent far too many hours hiding in his library and avoiding his responsibilities. But the remembrance would always be a fond one for him, regardless of the edge of guilt he must feel in it now. His dear, sweet girl had quite put him in his place that day.

As Lizzy had grown, Bennet's pride in her quickness and insatiable desire to learn had likewise grown. Honestly, it had not originally been for Collins' sake that he had begun schooling Lizzy in the art of estate management, it had occurred naturally as a result of her own curiosity. Lizzy had spent many days in his lap as Bennet had gone over the ledgers, prodding him for explanations about what the sums meant and practicing her numbers in the long columns. She would ask questions about what it meant to be the master, beg him to show her the tenant farms and gawk excitedly whenever they passed a worker or some example of livestock in the fields.

Over time, as her education had expanded and she became more capable of actually assisting him in his duties, Lizzy had taken over many of the tasks that most gentlemen would have assigned to their young sons and Bennet had begun to despise the entail more deeply than ever he had before. It was not fair, he often grumbled to himself, that Lizzy had not been born male. It was not fair that such a capable child must necessarily be overlooked for a cousin whom, as his wife would say, nobody cared anything about. Then, when the senior Collins had threatened him with a lawsuit over control of Longbourn, and the difficult birth of Lydia had destroyed any hope of bringing forth an heir into the world, Bennet had seen an opportunity to give Lizzy everything he had always wanted for her. It came with the price of being tied to the younger Collins, but such had not seemed so terrible until…

Well, it was best not to dwell on that. To do so would make him reach for the port again and it was not the time for wallowing in drink to dull the pain of his mistakes. In any case, Bennet had thought himself doing something quite grand in essentially making Lizzy his heir. It had not only been a measure of desperation, but also a sign of his pride in and love for his favorite daughter. He might have put forth Jane whose position as the eldest might have entitled her to the future role of Mistress of Longbourn. He had not, of course, preferring instead to reward Lizzy's hard work and dedication to her home. But all of his best laid plans had not accounted for the reality of Mr William Collins nor the inconvenience of his Lizzy falling in love with another man. Being thwarted in bestowing this great gift upon her, having it rejected outright, had angered him. That anger had made him bitter and his bitterness had made him petty. Bennet should have immediately awarded her the prize she wanted rather than the one he was eager for her to have.

In that, he could only blame himself yet more for allowing past events to color his perceptions of the present. It had been Bennet's experience with his wife, the former Miss Frances Gardiner, that "love" was little more than passing infatuation, marriage nothing but a scheme to entrap gentlemen by exploiting the weakness of their baser urges. It had happened to him and to many other gentlemen of his acquaintance, so his jaded view of marital relationships was perhaps not to be wondered at. Still, had he not been so resentful, Bennet might have been happier with Fanny all these years.

Further, his time spent at university, and later in London prior to the death of his father, had taught him that the upper ten thousand were, as a whole, a grasping, scheming, gossiping lot with little to no morality guiding their lives. Certainly, they hid behind the facade of righteousness when skewering one of their own in the papers or private whispers, but only so long as they, themselves, were not caught in their own debaucheries. Bennet had assumed that Darcy was no different from all the rest of the gentlemen in his class, caring nothing for the reputation of ladies outside their circle, but he had thankfully been wrong. He could still never quite like the man who had appropriated the greater portion of his favorite's affections away from himself, but Bennet was inclined to tolerate the Deplorable Darcy for Lizzy's sake.

There was a knock upon his library door and he invited whomever was on the other side to enter. It was Mrs Hill and she curtsied before her master. "My mistress says that it is time to leave for the church, sir."

Indeed, the ascending wail from down below suggested as much. It seemed that Fanny was anxious to complete this business of marrying their daughter off to the richest man in Derbyshire. "Very well, I shall be down in a moment. You have made sure that Mrs Bennet is in possession of her smelling salts and an extra handkerchief, I trust?"

Mrs Hill smiled. "Yes, sir. I had not forgot."

"Excellent, excellent." Bennet groaned and his spine popped in three places as he levied himself out of his chair. "Then, as soon as I have discovered where I have laid aside my spectacles, we shall go."

o0o

Half an hour after abandoning his study, Bennet stood with his Lizzy, shortly to be another's, just outside the closed church doors where his wife bade them wait until everyone within was in position. That had been more than ten minutes prior and he could still hear her excitable tones directing a person here, another there, as she arranged all to her liking. Not long ago, Bennet might have rolled his eyes with impatience, but today he smiled and chuckled fondly at the image of Fanny flitting about the aisles and commanding the troops into proper formation. Truly, he had never given her the proper measure of credit before now; it could not be an easy thing to direct all the silliness in their lives into something resembling a fashionable gathering. That Fanny herself often ruined the image she hoped to create was perhaps understandable in the stress created to bring it about.

"I do hope that Mama will finish soon," quipped Lizzy, her arm looped through his elbow and her eyes sparkling with the same sort of affectionate indulgence that he himself was feeling. "I should like to get married today, I think."

Bennet patted the hand held within the crook of his arm in a mock placating fashion. "Oh, I shouldn't worry much about that, Lizzy. Can you not tell that she is winding down?"

There was yet another shriek and a flurry of movement beyond the doors. Apparently, he had spoken too soon. "Oh, dear. I think we might have to reschedule for tomorrow. Or perhaps next week. William will not be pleased."

"Ah, I see the scheme now," Bennet replied as solemnly as he could. By the quirk of his daughter's brown and the quiver of her lips, it was apparent that his attempt at sobriety was for naught. "Your mother hopes for another ball."

Lizzy snorted and covered the lower half of her face with her bouquet. After a few silent giggles into the flower arrangement, she dropped it back down to hover near her midsection again and replied, "Then she should speak to Jane. No doubt she and Mr Bingley will indulge Mama whenever they announce their engagement."

"Oh ho?" This was news to him. Not surprising news, but he had yet to hear of any official understanding between his eldest and their new neighbor. "And when did this come about?"

"Yesterday," Lizzy said. "But do not be cross with them, Papa; they did not wish to steal our thunder so close to the wedding. I told Jane she should not worry about that, but she insisted on waiting. As I understand it, Mr Bingley intends to come to you tomorrow for your permission. You will grant it, will you not?" Lizzy's expression, previously so teasing, now affected an air of severity and expectation.

Bennet could not help laughing at it. "Of course! I have learned my lesson, Lizzy. Mr Bingley shall have no trouble from me." At the skeptical lift of her eyebrow and the softening of her mouth into a smirk, he amended, "Well, not much, at any rate."

From within the church, a deep, rumbling voice rose above the nervous tittering of Mrs Bennet and the noise level died down significantly thereafter. "I see William has taken control," Lizzy commented mildly.

"Indeed." It was quite remarkable, really. The man had a gift.

"Papa..."

Bennet again shifted his gaze to Lizzy and found her staring up at him, biting her lower lip in an unusual sign of anxiety. "Yes, my Little Lizzy?"

Lizzy relaxed somewhat and smiled at him. "I just wished to thank you. For finally granting your permission so that we could marry. You could have persisted in your objections for several more months yet, but instead you have seen the error of doing so and acceded to our every whim. You even, according to William's testimony, thought of Mama's feelings in setting the wedding date. And I am also glad that you are determined to do better for the estate and my sisters. I know I said that things could never be quite the same between us again, and I still feel as if this is the case, but I wish you to know that I hope I am wrong on that score."

Bennet felt the rims of his eyes burn beneath his spectacles and blinked the rising moisture away. Tears were another indulgence he would only nurse in private. Instead, he bent forward and, careful of the arrangement of her bonnet, placed a kiss upon his Lizzy's forehead. "Do not thank me for what I should have done months ago, child. And I also hope that we might return to some semblance of what we once were, though, like you, I doubt it very much. My own sins aside, you are moments away from becoming the wife of another man and, as is the natural order of things, you must throw your lot in with him and give him your first loyalties. I had thought to circumvent such by keeping you at Longbourn with me, but I see now that I was merely fooling myself; that is not the way of the world.

"All of that said, I shall dearly miss having you about, my Little Lizzy, and I hope that you remember your old papa fondly upon occasion. It is more than I deserve, but I hope it all the same."

"I shall miss you, too, Papa," Lizzy's voice was quiet and her eyes sparkling with the tears he himself would not shed in her presence. "It has been difficult between us lately, but...I love you."

Bennet pressed one final kiss to her forehead as the doors to the church opened; Kitty was announcing that all was finally ready. "As I love you, my Little Lizzy."

Author's Note: I finished this chapter just this morning (it's been a busy week), but at least I got it out on time! Had I not had opportunity today, I was going to post this one along with the next on Monday instead. Luckily, that didn't happen. Please be forgiving of little mistakes but feel free to point out ones which need to be addressed.

Next up, Mrs Bennet gets to gloat to all the neighborhood over her second daughter's good fortune. I'd say she deserves to enjoy it almost as much as Lady Lucas and Miss Bingley deserve to suffer from it, lolz.

Next Update: July 27, 2020 (MONDAY)
Expected Completion: July 31, 2020

- MrsMarySmythe