Ooops or Consequence & Consequences Chapter 20, a pride and prejudice fanfic

Thanks, I loved your comments.

It is interesting to read all the different perspectives.

MissyDy, you were the closest in my ideas about the behaviour of D&E, as well as the Duke.

I think I will tone down CB's insults – a little. Unfortunately, I really can't stand her character, and delight in destroying her, so I tend to go a bit over the top.

I hope you continue to enjoy.

~~~o0o~~~

Darcy presented himself at Barrington House, punctually at ten the next morning, and was immediately shown into the morning room.

He was surprised when he was greeted by the Duchess, since he had not expected her to have risen this early the day after the ball.

'Mr Darcy, welcome. Please have a seat. May I pour you some tea?' The lady gestured towards the tea service set out on the table.

'Thank you, Your Grace, you are most kind.' Darcy murmured a little bewildered. He had expected to see Elizabeth rather than her mother.

When he seated himself, the Duchess fixed his cup with lemon and sugar, just as he liked it, reminding him that while Mrs Bennet's manners had been objectionable to him, she was renowned as a hostess amongst her neighbours.

Once she had handed him his cup, the Duchess sat back and favoured him with a gimlet eye. 'Mr Darcy, I hope you will forgive me for intercepting you, but I had hoped to speak to you before you take my daughter for your walk.'

'There is nothing to forgive, My Lady. I am pleased to speak with you,' Darcy replied, curious what the lady had to say.

'Mr Darcy, I apologise if some of the things I wish to say you consider improper, but there are some facts which I would like you to consider.' She paused a moment. 'When you arrived at Netherfield you considered the local gentry beneath you. Please, do not try to deny it, you made it abundantly clear that you considered us savages because we did not have the refined and pretentious Town manners.'

'But did you ever consider that during your stay not a single mother pushed their daughters at you, despite your reputed wealth of ten thousand per year? You, who are so very eligible that every lady in Town wishes to capture your interest? Let me finish, then you can have your say,' she commanded as Darcy tried to interrupt.

When Darcy subsided, she continued. 'It probably has not occurred to you that during that time there were only two fortune-hunters in the neighbourhood of Meryton. I suspect you will agree that one of them was Miss Bingley. After all, the way she was throwing herself at you for years was painfully obvious. Would you care to hazard a guess at the other name? No? Judging by your blush you think it is the name of Bennet. But I must disappoint you, otherwise you would have been importuned since you are richer than your friend.'

When Darcy remained silent, the Duchess added, 'the second fortune-hunter was the son of a gentleman, who would only consider a wife with wealth and connections, but never the dowerless daughter of a gentleman, Mr Darcy.'

Darcy stared at the lady. He could not believe his ears. Even though the Duchess had not said so directly, had she just called him a fortune-hunter? He started to bristle. How dare she…

He locked glances with those suddenly steely blue eyes, and abruptly realised that she had a point. While in his circle it was common practice to select a partner from that circle, particularly if the family had a similar level of wealth, such prudence could be considered mercenary by outsiders.

After all, his Aunt Catherine de Bourgh had pressed him for years to marry his cousin Anne, to combine the estates of Pemberley and Rosings, and therefore conserve the wealth in the family. She had been quite shrill and demanding in making her point. As bad or possibly even worse than Mrs Bennet had been at the Netherfield Ball, declaring the marriage of her daughter to Bingley a foregone conclusion.

But the Duchess was not finished yet. 'Mr Darcy, I wish my daughters to marry for true affection and mutual respect. I will not permit them to tie themselves to unworthy men.'

Darcy remembered his words to Elizabeth in November. How he could not consider her as anything other than a friend because she did not live up the expectations the ton had for his choice of wife. Last night he had thought that her elevation in status was to his benefit, but at the time he had not truly considered it from the lady's perspective.

He considered mentioning his visit to Longbourn, but at present he was too conflicted. He did not wish to humble himself further by admitting that he had hoped to court Elizabeth. While his thinking might be confused, it made sense to him.

Darcy suddenly felt in need of fresh air, but without the distraction of Elizabeth. The Duchess had given him much to ponder.

'Your Grace, I suddenly feel indisposed. Would you please make my apologies to Lady Southwell? I find that I feel incapable of walking in the park this morning.'

'Do not concern yourself, Mr Darcy. I am certain that my daughter will understand. I suggest that you return to your home and recover.' The Duchess smiled graciously.

Darcy stood and bowed to his hostess. 'Thank you, My Lady. I will certainly heed your words. I hope to see you again when I have improved.'

'I shall look forward to that occurrence, Mr Darcy.'

Both parties understood the implied message, as Darcy made his way out of the house.

~~~o0o~~~

Elizabeth waited impatiently for her walk with Mr Darcy. She was curious what he had to say for himself, but she had agreed to let her mother have a word with him first.

That had been a surprise to her, since the Duchess had stopped pushing her at men, and stopped pushing men at her daughters.

At last, her patience was rewarded and she was invited to the morning room, where she discovered her mother on her own. 'Where is Mr Darcy?' Elizabeth enquired.

'He was feeling indisposed and had to return home.'

'What happened, Mother?'

'I explained to Mr Darcy a few things which he had not previously considered. I know that you could have done this too, but I wanted him chastised, not destroyed.'

The Duchess took her daughter's hand. 'Elizabeth, I love you dearly, but I am not insensible to your flaws. One of them is your sharp wit and even sharper tongue. I know you often coat your words in honey, but you are still angry at the way Mr Darcy insulted you last year. The second insult,' she clarified.

'He thought himself oh so superior.'

'I know he did and his attitude hurt you. After all, as an intelligent and exceedingly handsome gentleman he is very attractive.'

The Duchess smiled as Elizabeth started to splutter to deny any interest. 'My dear, it is perfectly natural that you should have been attracted. I can also understand that to be told that you are not good enough, would be hurtful and make you angry.'

She sighed. 'Well, you have had your revenge since he has learned that he was wrong in his estimation. But there is no need to rub salt into his wounds, the way you would have done, had I given you a chance.'

Elizabeth wanted to deny her mother's accusation, but honesty eventually forced her to agree.

'What do you expect me to do now?'

'I expect you to enjoy the season. Get to know the available gentlemen, and see if there is one who stands out. If not, there is no rush. There is always next season, and there will always be someone who will want to marry a future Duchess.'

'What about Mr Darcy?'

'Next time you see him, be polite and courteous. There is no need to sharpen your wits at his expense.' She smiled to take the sting out of her words. 'Elizabeth, I believe Mr Darcy affected you as strongly as he did, for good and ill, because he was the first intelligent and attractive man you have met. But there are many others out there. Give yourself time, since there is no need to make a decision in haste.' The Duchess smiled at her daughter. 'Who was it who said, Marry in haste, repent at leisure?'

'William Congreve.'

'Mr Congreve was correct. Take your time, and eventually you will know your own mind.'

Elizabeth was astonished at the change in her mother. While she had been pleased to see the improvement in the lady's manners and comportment, she had not given much thought to the Duchess's increased understanding. 'When did you become so wise?'

'When I stopped being afraid.'

~~~o0o~~~

Another interesting conversation was taking place this morning. This one occurred in the Bingley household.

The previous night, a distraught Miss Bingley had refused to speak to her brother, ignoring all his attempts at conversation. This morning, Mr Bingley was determined to get some answers, and when his sister refused to leave her room, he went to see her in her rooms.

'Well, Caroline, what have you to say for yourself?'

'Go away, Charles. I am in no mood to talk to you.'

'That is surprising considering how much you had to say last night. What did you think you could achieve by publicly insulting a lady at a ball?'

'I wanted to ensure that Miss Bennet left town as quickly as possible since you were still mooning over her. It has been months, and despite all the eligible ladies I have introduced to you, you have not shown the slightest interest in any of them. I could not bear to see you shackled to such a low family.'

'Caroline, what exactly did you do?' Bingley asked suspiciously.

'I do not understand your meaning.'

'When you left Netherfield, what did you tell or write to Miss Bennet?'

Miss Bingley fidgeted but said no word.

'Caroline, WHAT DID YOU SAY?'

'I told Miss Bennet that you were in love with Miss Darcy, and that I expected an engagement soon, and we would never return.'

Bingley was horrified. He had trusted his sister to make it clear to the lady that he intended to return as soon as possible. But another question had been raised the previous evening. 'What happened to the letter I wrote to her father?'

'I may have accidentally burned it…'

That explained the Dukes reaction. That left one thing. 'Did the lady call on you?'

His sister again remained silent, which spoke as clearly as an affirmative answer. 'Lady Jane told me she did call on you. What exactly did you say?'

Miss Bingley, realising that all was lost, admitted, 'I told her that I would never countenance you marrying a woman with connections to trade, and that she should take her fortune-hunting family and… crawl back under the rock she came from.' She looked at him defiantly.

'So, you, the daughter of a tradesman, told the daughter of one of the wealthiest Dukes in the Kingdom, that she was a fortune hunter and beneath you in station. That is rich, Caroline. I suspect that you did so in front of the servants, to ensure the lady was properly humiliated…' The look on his sister's face confirmed his suspicion.

He barked a humourless laugh. 'You relied on the servants spreading the gossip. Congratulations, you succeeded. The servants are spreading the news how you made yourself the laughing stock of the ton.'

'How was I to know that she was the daughter of a Duke? She never said, and her mother certainly never acted like any Duchess I have ever met.' Caroline screamed in frustration. 'How could I possibly have known? They fooled everyone.'

'Of course, you are the expert in how a Duchess behaves. After all, you have met so many of them.

Bingley gave a mirthless chuckle. 'Last night, if you had not been so determined to be late to the ball, we would have been in time for the formal introduction, and avoided this unholy mess. But no, you had to make an entrance. As if anyone would hold up proceedings for the likes of us. You only have yourself to blame.'

He gave his sister a hard stare. 'After humiliating his daughter, I suspect the Duke counted on you being excessively late, to give you the opportunity to make a fool of yourself. You denigrated his daughter while we were at Netherfield, and you prevented me from going back, and then insulted her in our house in front of the servants. And to top it off, you had the bad manners to arrive late. I am only surprised that he spoke to me as civilly as he did.'

Mr Bingley again chuckled mirthlessly. 'It is ironic that you presented Miss Huntington, the niece of a Viscount, as the perfect marital prospect for me, and in the process missed out on my marrying the daughter of a Duke. Your social climbing has been your downfall. I suspect there is not a single man in England who is now prepared to marry you.' He considered for a moment. 'I believe that I will release your dowry, and suggest that you leave the country.'

~~~o0o~~~

In the hallway, Bingley encountered a footman.

'Pardon me, Sir,' the embarrassed man said. 'I could not help but overhear some of your conversation. It is about the lady you were speaking about.'

'Lady Jane?'

'Yes, Sir. She visited last week. The lady had just entered the house and presented her card, when Miss Bingley came down the stairs. When I tried to give your sister the card, she waved me away, saying that she knew the lady. She never looked at the card.'

'Do you still have the card?'

'Mr Turner does,' the footman answered, referring to the butler.

'Please get it for me.'

A few minutes later the footman brought the card to the study, where Bingley was very carefully writing a note to his solicitor.

The card read 'Lady Jane Bennet, Barrington House, Park Lane'. Bingley just shook his head at his sister's hubris.

~~~o0o~~~