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A Wicked, White Cravat
by Anton M.
Chapter 5: The Conversation
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Elizabeth was no longer so sure that Darcy would not break off the engagement — even after compromising him, she had let him take liberties with herself. It was not seemly for a lady, and he could not have known she had only ever kissed him.
"It is not true," she repeated.
"Tell me that your arm injury is because you fell in the library."
"No." She took a breath. "Unless you consider falling on Mr. Collins' face with my fist."
"You what?" he shouted, and stepped closer to Elizabeth. "That drunk disfigured man at the Inn is Mr. Collins?!"
"If he had a swollen, broken nose and skin covered by cuts, yes. It must have been him."
Darcy squeezed her shoulders, desperate to understand and to believe that his fiancée was nothing like the rumours claimed she was.
"What did he do? Did he—?" He stared at her, glancing down briefly. "Did he—? I will kill him."
"No, sir, I— please sit down so that I can tell you the full story and you can judge for yourself. I can have my father, all my sisters, our scullery maid Esther and footman Mr. Finch corroborate my story if needed. Will you listen?"
Darcy sat down on the bench. He felt a strong sense that he had already been here, sitting, listening to a story of a man who took advantage of a woman. Not even four months ago, he had made wild accusations and assumptions (coloured by his fears) about what had happened between his sister and Mr. Wickham, and he had nearly lost his sister for his outbursts. He hoped that he had learned enough from the pain to listen to Elizabeth without interrupting her.
"Yes," he replied, forcing his voice to be calm. "I will listen."
Elizabeth started walking back and forth in front of him, gathering her courage, feeling a mixture of hope and dread. It might've been a habit that she had already picked up from Mr. Darcy for she did not remember ever having done it before.
"Sir, on Thursday evening, after you had paid us a visit and we had dinner with the Lucases, I was headed to bed next to my sister Jane. We were going to talk before we went to sleep, but she always falls asleep before me, and I wanted to have a book to keep me company because, well, I am not used to as many emotions as you evoke in me and I was determined to distract myself.
"I was headed for the library in my nightgown, which you may consider improper but we are not so formal in our house that anyone is bothered by this. The candles of the library were on, and I presumed my father to be there — but as I entered the door, Mr. Collins shut the door after me and held a glass of brandy. He was drunk. He told me that you are engaged to a Miss Anne de Bourgh, and accused me of being a bit of muslin before he pressed me against the door and attacked my—"
Darcy sprung up, murder in his eyes. "I will kill him."
"Sir!" Elizabeth said, squeezing his arm. "Please."
He sat down.
"He attacked my neck, but I twisted myself loose immediately and punched him in the face so hard that his nose broke. My father and sisters pushed the door open. Papa asked what had happened, and when Mr. Collins told him that I am wanton, papa threw him against the shards of the brandy glass and made sure that I was all right."
Darcy jumped up, stepped close to Elizabeth, and took her hands in his. "He did not, he did not — violate you?"
"No," Elizabeth whispered. "He did not even manage to kiss me. I do believe he was hindered by my fist."
He let out a dark chuckle in spite of himself.
"It was all started by Mr. Collins? And you are not— that is, you don't…"
Elizabeth pressed her lips tightly together, unsure about how to convince a man who had been the recipient of all her liberties that he was the only man receiving them.
"Sir, before you came into my life, I had never kissed a man, and before yesterday, I had never known what, uh, well… desire truly felt like. I understand that the unusual beginning of our courtship does not encourage you to believe me, but you are the only man I have ever, ever considered doing those things with, or given permission to take those liberties."
Darcy rubbed her shoulder, eyes on hers, desperate to pull her against him.
"Do you believe me?" Elizabeth asked. "I will not be offended should you want to talk to anyone from our household about these concerns. We are still getting to know one another."
"I believe you," he replied, letting out a breath. "God, your innocent reactions alone— I believe you."
He paused, and his voice was full of pain.
"Why did you not tell me about what happened?"
"We were all in such shock from it, and I did not know you well enough to predict how you would have reacted. As the daughters of a country gentleman, we have no money to attract a husband, our virtue is all we have. If you broke off the engagement because you believed me to be— we would all be ruined."
"You did not trust me."
"We did not know if we could."
"You don't know how this morning has tortured me," Darcy whispered, gently rubbing her hands. "From the moment Miss Bingley walked around, pretending that she was not over the moon with the rumours about you, insinuating dreadful things, I could not eat, I could not sit, I could not talk — I came here as early as I thought I could get away with. I almost emptied my guts from the fear that the rumours could be right."
Elizabeth ran her fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes and hummed.
"I am sorry to have caused you pain."
"I am sorry to have feared the worst," he replied, leaning against her hand. "To have known that it all started from Mr. Collins' jealousy would have significantly changed my mood and my purpose."
"What purpose would that be, then?"
"Kill him."
"Mr. Darcy!"
He took a breath, and gently, mindful of her injury, pulled off the glove for her injured hand. She discovered that the cold wind relieved her pain. Darcy silently observed her knuckles, the skin that had torn off but was healing, and put his palm upwards so that he could hold her hand in his.
"Does it hurt?"
"Much less than before."
"Had you not worn gloves yesterday, I would have known you were lying," he said. "I have seen this injury before. In inexperienced men, it is usually accompanied by a broken bone in the thumb."
She did not often get to touch his hand without gloves, and enjoyed the feeling. "I apologise for lying to you."
"Please never lie to me again."
"Only if it is warranted," she replied.
"When would that be the case?"
"If I know I am with child once were are married and I am trying to find a way to tell you, I will not admit to being so before I can properly surprise you."
It was the first time they had spoken about having children, and when he pulled back to see her face, Elizabeth saw a kind of soft, tender surprise in his eyes. He cleared his throat.
"I suppose that is acceptable," he replied, pretending to be severe but failing miserably.
"And also, when I have any other gift or surprise to you or when Georgiana needs a confidante in matters that are more suitable for a sister to hear than a brother, or when I—"
Darcy pulled her into his coat, propriety be damned, and squeezed her close enough to feel her heartbeat. He rubbed her back, and she breathed in his scent when she hid her face in his chest. "Elizabeth," he whispered, close to her ear, relishing her warmth. His knees nearly buckled with the relief he felt, and he shifted when Elizabeth wrapped both arms around him under his coat. "How quickly do you think your family will come running here to save your virtue?"
"Oh, they wouldn't dare," she said. "Your face when you entered our breakfast room this morning was so severe that they must be holding their breath, hoping and dreading the outcome."
"Good," he said, smiling in spite of himself. "I should be severe more often if it earns me more time alone with you."
"Sir!" Elizabeth smiled against his chest but did not pull away. She closed her eyes, feeling the whistle of the wind in her right ear. "You must know, sir, you must, I am only ever like this with you. It is vital that you trust me on this."
"I trust you," he replied gently.
"I will ask everyone in the household to vouch for my character, sir."
"That is not necessary."
"It is!" She pulled away ever so slightly to see his eyes. "If you have even a fraction of worry about this, you will once again run away with your fears and assume the worst before having considered all evidence for and against the very thing you fear. You let your fear guide you more than any other emotion, William."
It was her use of his given name that gave him pause. Her passion made him want to argue and match her energy, but he hummed as he kept back his quips and considered her words.
"When was the first time your heard the rumour about me being a— light-skirt?" Elizabeth asked.
"Yesterday night."
"So prior to yesterday, you had never heard such a rumour."
"No."
"Do you really believe that Miss Bingley would have kept it to herself for two whole months, if my reputation had been widely known to be in question? And then, fearing that I had kissed you just because of your money — did you ever stop to think that, had that been the case, I would have actually sought out your attention before that night? Perhaps behaved a little bit closer to how Miss Bingley is around you, with endless meaningless flatteries and pretended to hate the world as you seemed to?
"I am not without faults of my own," she continued. "And I am sure you will find them all and find them quite vexing, and I do not flatter myself hoping that my telling you this will change you. If anything, knowing our flaws might make us stick to them more because we tend to justify them to others. But please consider my words in light of how much peace of mind we both are to gain if you pause to consider all evidence before letting yourself be ruled by your fears."
Elizabeth had not drawn away from his arms, but hers were folded against his chest and she was fiddling with his cravat. Now silent, she watched him observe her, and in light of her own words, gave him enough space to consider them.
He silently squeezed her against his chest and pulled the ribbon of her bonnet loose enough that he could lift it off.
"Mr. Darcy!" she admonished, not quite as upset as she was pretending to be.
He pulled her ever-so-close, lips against her ear, and said, "I hate those blasted things," before he pressed a kiss against her hair. Elizabeth hoped dearly that her family had resolved not to interrupt them.
"I promise to think about your words," Darcy said before he started swaying gently with her. Nothing was said for several minutes, and Elizabeth felt so comfortable and safe in his coat that she pressed a silent kiss against his chest. Darcy hummed, holding her to him, and whispered, "Do you think they are still scared enough that I could steal a kiss from you, with your permission?"
Elizabeth laughed, nodding, and Darcy took her hand as he guided them behind the willow tree, hidden just enough that they were no longer visible from the breakfast room.
"They will come get us soon," she said.
"I better make the best of the time I have, then," he replied with a twinkle in his eyes and gently pushed her against the willow tree. She was soft and pliant in his arms, and he cherished every breath and whisper.
He could not believe his luck that this soft creature in his arms had chosen him. When she tugged at his shirt and slid her fingers under all the layers, he arched against her and held back a groan.
"Elizabeth," he whispered against her neck, staying still and leaning against the tree with one arm. "We must stop."
Her hand stilled against his side. Her lips were red, her hair was disheveled, and she was slightly out of breath. Darcy was so taken with her shy smile that he pulled her back to him, panting against her neck and savouring her body against him. He twitched when her warm hand moved against his skin.
"Elizabeth," he repeated, kissing the side of her neck. "I love you, but we must stop."
Her eyes sparkled when she finally withdrew, but she ran her fingers over his rough cheek and pecked his lips. She attempted to put his shirt back in his breeches, but Darcy took hold of her hand and cleared his throat.
"Let me," he said in a rough voice, and she let out a small laugh when Darcy discovered that his suspenders had come off on one side. He had no choice but to let her fix it, and he stood perfectly still, hands in front of him, while she explored his back, trying to find the suspenders. She breathed against his stomach, hands around him, mirth in her eyes, and the intimacy of the action was not lost on him.
"Lizzie! Papa is looking for you!"
Darcy cursed silently, but Elizabeth did not react as she was focused on her task. Seconds later, she found the suspenders and fumbled before she managed to attach it to the buttons.
They locked eyes — Elizabeth, disheveled, with mirth in her eyes and a giddy smile on her lips, and Darcy, desperately re-arranging his crumpled shirt, almost too full of love for the woman he was marrying.
"Lizzie?"
"Here!" she yelled back, about to run toward the house before Darcy caught her arm.
"Your bonnet."
She took her bonnet from the ground and tied it, but she did not put on her missing glove. When they approached the front door, hand in hand, Jane stood, eyebrows raised with a knowing smile on her face. She tried to look disapproving, but the knowledge that Mr. Darcy had not broken off their engagement and that they were on their way to a marriage full of affection made her disapproval impossible.
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Mr. Bennet was staring out of the window in the library when Elizabeth and Darcy entered.
"Papa?"
He gave them a single glance and took a deep breath. "Your wedding cannot come soon enough."
Darcy shifted in his place.
However, Mr. Bennet also smiled in relief and exhaustion. His daughter had, apparently, quite underestimated Mr. Darcy's depth of emotion or he would not have been looking at a disheveled couple quite enamoured with each other.
"I take it that you resolved any misunderstandings?"
"Yes, sir," Darcy replied.
Elizabeth squeezed his hand but then remembered herself and let go. Her voice was low. "Mr. Darcy, do you want our household to vouch for my character?"
"That is not necessary," he replied, with a voice that was both tender and resolute.
"I will not be offended," she assured.
Mr. Bennet observed their interaction in silence until he said, "Son, if you feel you do not know my daughter well enough to judge for yourself, we are all ready to talk to you. You may request an audience with any member of the family."
Darcy walked over to the door and closed it. "Mr. Bennet, I did not know that what I heard was started by Mr. Collins," he said. "Had I known that, I assure you, I would have dismissed the whole thing as petty jealousy."
He squeezed Elizabeth's bare arm before he begun pacing back and forth.
"Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked.
"You are to be my family." Darcy gave Elizabeth a tight smile. "What I will say next cannot leave this room."
He paused and hung his head, rubbing his neck.
"I despise deception. But I fear that I cannot, in good conscience, judge you for attempting to keep a delicate matter such as this one from me when I made exactly the same choice as you did not four months ago."
Elizabeth and her father remained silent as Darcy detailed the matter of the near-elopement of his sister Georgiana and Mr. Wickham. Elizabeth listened, amazed and furious at Mr. Wickham, and Mr. Bennet observed Darcy in silence until he was done talking.
"It is entirely possible that had my sister been ruined before I got to her, had she not been eager to share what had happened… I might have faced a choice quite impossible to make. Could I have lived with myself with a brother like him? Could I have forced her to marry a stranger if she was with child to save her reputation? I despise deception, and yet, here I am, having hidden the full extent of what happened to protect my sister. How do you protect ladies from a scoundrel if revealing a scoundrel does more harm to the people you love than the rake himself? I have tried and failed to solve this problem, and I do not have the answer."
Elizabeth walked over to Darcy to squeeze his hand, and he kissed it, deep in thought.
Mr. Bennet leaned against the table. "Thank you for telling us. Your words will not leave this room."
Darcy nodded.
"I am to understand that Mr. Wickham was stationed nearby, is that correct? If your sister is arriving at Netherfield next week, how do we protect her?"
Darcy looked at Mr. Bennet in such astonishment — as if, for the first time, realising that he is no longer alone — that Mr. Bennet smiled kindly. "Son, you are family now. If we can help, we will do whatever needed to help you protect your sister."
Darcy, touched beyond measure but uncomfortable with the depth of his emotions, walked over to the window and sighed. "You are very kind, but I have thought of it. There is a Captain Griffiths who owes me a favour, and for better or for worse, I have caused Mr. Wickham to have to resign his commission and gain employment to sail to the East Indies. I have paid off his debts. I have not yet made peace with this decision as it only shifts the burden to other people, but I could not live with myself had Georgiana been forced to see him too soon. Her heart was touched, and she is still recovering."
"Lizzie, could you give me a moment with Mr. Darcy?"
As had become a habit, Elizabeth squeezed Darcy's hand, not knowing the words to help him, before she left and ordered breakfast to be delivered to the library. Mr. Bennet motioned for Mr. Darcy to sit and leaned on the edge of his table while Mr. Darcy sat in silence.
"I am to understand that your parents have passed away?"
"Yes."
"I am sorry to hear that. How long ago?"
"I was but a boy when my mother passed and not yet three and twenty when my father followed."
"I have lost my own parents but I cannot pretend that I know how hard it must be for someone so young. I do not aim to take their place as I know nobody could, but if you are willing, it would mean a great deal to me if I could speak to you as openly as a father would."
Darcy sat, stunned, touched, and yet unsure how to proceed showing the kind of emotion that Mr. Bennet, living with six women, had grown comfortable expressing.
Bread, butter and tea arrived, and Darcy received them most gratefully.
"I would like that, sir," he said.
Mr. Bennet, politely ignoring his embarrassment, offered a smile. "I am glad to see that you solved the problem with Elizabeth."
Darcy shifted, hoping that Mr. Bennet did not know the extent of his fear. "Sir, I cannot begin to tell you how sorry…"
Darcy silenced when Mr. Bennet raised his arm.
"Enough of that. We are all fools in love," he said, taking his quill pen from the table and fiddling with it. "Do you know, Mr. Darcy, why it is that a man and a woman are not to lie together before marriage?"
Darcy, in spite of himself, coloured up, but was determined to not show embarrassment. It was not a discussion he was eager to have, but if have it he must, he would tolerate it without arguments.
"To protect the reputation of the lady," he said.
"Yes," Mr. Bennet replied. "But not entirely. Can you think of any other reason?"
He thought, desperately, but everything else was related to the same thing.
"No, sir."
"If you are two weeks away from your wedding and you were to do such a thing, now what would be the harm?"
"I would never—"
Mr. Bennet raised his arm. "I am not telling you that I do not trust you. But, I, too, have been young once, and many of us do things we thought we would never do when emotions run high. I am sure, a week before it happened, Lizzie would never have imagined that she would compromise you on that fateful day at Netherfield. Now tell me, what would be the harm?"
Darcy thought for a moment.
"Reputation of the lady if the child is born too soon?"
"I do not blame you for your upbringing and how it has affected you, but think more. I think you can do better."
Darcy sighed, hopeless. "Everything comes back to the reputation of— unless, unless something happens to the man before the marriage, preventing it?"
Mr. Bennet looked like a proud father, and Darcy felt like a schoolboy.
"Now you have hit it," Mr. Bennet said. "Of course, it all has to do with the reputation of the woman, but what is more important that if you were injured, the wedding delayed, if you were to, God forbid, die, it would leave a fatherless child and a woman without a husband or a future— unless an emergency wedding takes place to some kind soul. Yes, the reputation is ruined, but you must see, the suffering this would cause is far beyond the reputation of the people involved."
"Sir, I would never—"
"I am not saying you would," Mr. Bennet replied. "But I have eyes and ears, and I see you both. I dare say that there is not a love marriage in this country where a kiss was not stolen before the wedding, and it is natural to desire more. But you must keep the rest for later, you must, for even if there is a fraction of a chance that the wedding cannot happen, for whatever reason, you will prevent a lot of suffering by delaying things."
"Mr. Bennet," Darcy tried again. "Upon my honour, I would never—"
Mr. Bennet, growing impatient, dragged a chair closer to the armchair Darcy was sitting on. "You are to be the first person to know this outside of the two people involved. Mr. Darcy, I, too, thought like you, and you may think us different for our stations and you may be correct. However, you are not unlike myself when I was your age, and I also considered the reputation of the lady involved to be the most concerning aspect of any potential slip. I did not learn otherwise. Jane was both too weeks early and too weeks too late, all at once. Too weeks early for the world to know and two weeks late, thankfully, for the world to remain blissfully unaware. Now, had I been killed by a stallion or drowned in the river before our wedding, the life of who you know as Mrs. Bennet and Jane would have been wholly different, and yes, their reputation would have been ruined, but it is the suffering my actions would have caused that haunts me.
"I am telling you this not because you would not do right by Elizabeth, if such an occasion were to happen, but to give you a reason beyond honour and potential ruin of reputation— to prevent suffering. You must wait."
Darcy stared in disbelief, stunned that Mr. Bennet had trusted him enough to share this with him. He found himself judging Mr. Bennet for his lack of self-control, but caught himself in the middle of it and realised, could he have had the same slip-up had he not learned this, today? Was he only, currently, prevented by opportunity?
The thought scared him more than he was willing to admit.
"Thank you for sharing this with me," Darcy replied. "I will give thought to what you told me."
"Thank you." Mr. Bennet straightened his back, as if he had gained a few years in the conversation, and nodded. "I am comforted by the knowledge that the bodily harm Elizabeth can cause is quite extensive if you were to behave in ways she is not comfortable with."
Darcy, having previously felt proud of her defence, was struck by how much he desired to never, ever give her cause to need such a defence from him.
"You will find, with time, that Elizabeth, she is— beyond measure. If you can form a union with respect and affection, I dare say you have succeeded more in life than most, and you are a lucky man indeed to have been chosen by her."
Darcy nodded, knowing that whatever fear drove him to assume the worst had almost pushed away the very woman whose love he was attempting to earn.
Mr. Bennet stood up, walking behind his table. "Now, what do you suggest we do with Mr. Collins?"
Darcy felt relief at the change in topic, and was eager to find a sword and do things to Mr. Collins that would leave him without any body parts that Mr. Collins would desire to be functional.
"Do you think Mr. Griffiths has room for one more?" Mr. Bennet asked, half-humour and half-hope.
"That would be quite a solution," Mr. Darcy replied. "But however little I know Mr. Collins, I fear that getting his agreement to such an arrangement would be too momentous a task."
"You are correct." Mr. Bennet sighed. "I do feel that he should be removed from his position as a clergyman."
"I am inclined to agree. However, the force that would ensure that Mr. Collins does not continue under the patronage of Lady Catherine at Kent is the same force that would ensure her opposition to our marriage, although that seems inevitable."
"Oh, that is correct. I quite forgot that you are connected to Lady Catherine de Bourgh."
"I fear that, having lived with Mr. Collins for as long as you did, you have heard more of her than I have in my entire lifetime."
Mr. Bennet laughed.
"But, again, my connection to her helps and harms us equally. I can get him fired, of that I am certain, but the cost might be high enough that I can no longer have a relationship with my aunt for it is very unlikely that she is forgiving of Elizabeth for having put herself in such a situation, regardless of who was at fault and how it played out."
Darcy had not thought of his aunt much. In fact, in his rush to invite his sister, his cousin Fitzwilliam and Fitzwilliam's family to his upcoming wedding, he had postponed writing a letter to Lady Catherine long enough so that it might have soon started to look like a deliberate slight.
"If you are correct in your prediction, will Lady Catherine's disapproval stand in the way of your happiness with my daughter?"
"Sir, if your initial disapproval could not sway me, what makes you feel that anyone else could?"
Mr. Bennet smiled. "You are determined to have her, then."
Darcy coloured up under his gaze but did not disagree.
"With your permission, sir, I shall write to my aunt Lady Catherine about what happened without naming any names, although it will come out soon enough."
"I shall be grateful," Mr. Bennet replied, walking over to the window and hesitating. He held on to his quill pen, turning it over between his fingers, and observed Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy, used to high society, thought nothing of it and quietly stared back at Mr. Bennet.
"There is but one matter on which I feel I must ask for your advice, Mr. Darcy."
Darcy nodded, motioning for him to continue.
"I have previously led my family, including Lizzie, to believe that I am a life tenant of the Longbourn House, able to make limited decisions about my estate but never the decisions of an owner. They believe me to hold Longbourn in a strict settlement, but this is incorrect. I can only justify my misleading them in order to not give them false hope, but my fear of the unknown and complacency certainly played a role. A part of me had believed, after hearing from Mr. Collins, that perhaps the matter would solve itself if he were to take one of our daughters as his wife, but as you have seen, my belief had nearly disastrous consequences and I am a better man for learning from my mistakes."
"You want to bar Mr. Collins from taking possession of the Longbourn estate by the use of common recovery?"
"Yes," Mr. Bennet answered, relieved beyond belief that what had felt like a mystical law was commonly known among other estate owners. "How much do you know about the procedure?"
"It should be a simple matter, although you will, of course, have to pay a fee."
"Will you consider sharing the details you know of the process on some other day?"
"Of course," Darcy said. "I would be happy to. I am no expert but I have witnessed it. I can also help you with the fee should that be a concern."
Mr. Bennet waved him off with his hand. "No, I thank you. I must mention that I have a brother, Mr. Phillips, who is an attorney, but I feel that this is a delicate matter where one might be too close to the family to keep the issue private until it is done."
"I will write to my attorney in London, Mr. Kingdon. You may rely on my discretion."
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet squeezed his shoulder. "You are a man who grows on people with time. I believe your father would be proud of the man you have become."
Darcy, who had kept his composure, felt stricken by the comment and pressed his lips together. When he stood and held out his hand, Mr. Bennet shook it with both of his, looking like a weight had lifted off his shoulders.
"Mr. Bennet, I would be grateful if you kept my involvement in barring the entail to yourself, even if my role is small."
"May I ask why?"
"If I am to earn Elizabeth's affection, I would rather receive her love than her gratitude."
Mr. Bennet hesitated. "She does not know what she is about, if she has not—"
"Sir, I am grateful for your change of heart with regards to my character, but let there be no mistake — I have given your daughter more than enough reasons to make her question her choice. I am learning to take responsibility for my miscalculations, but I cannot fault her for taking her time."
"I respect that," Mr. Bennet said.
As Darcy turned to leave, he took a moment to appreciate the truth in his words, and the incredible relief that a few conversations had brought him. He had been terrified that he would have to let Elizabeth go, but nothing could have been further from the truth. She was beautiful, honest, and sweeter than he could handle. He had understood how much he had to grow in order to be worthy of her, but he could not imagine how he could learn to live with himself if they entered their marriage with unequal affections. How was he to prevent it?
But first, he had letters to write.