Author's note: I have to laugh at the number of people who say they want to kick Darcy. I prefer the term "strangle" myself, but most of you just want to use your feet instead lol.
You'll probably hate him after this chapter. I'm sorry. Don't hate me.
I have to say that I love hearing your comments! But it also stresses me out a little when I get to this point of a story. I love writing the backstory and building up to everything, but writing love scenes where ODC interact is SO stressful! What if y'all hate it? What if I've built it up so great, but then the climax is a disappointment?
But this isn't the climax yet. Just a little more angst. I'm sorry. But Darcy just can't help himself. He's almost 30, and when you've been brainwashed (for lack of a better term) your whole life that duty is all that matters, it's hard to be "selfish" and put your own wants and desires ahead of that. And we all know that he's TERRIBLE at explaining himself in the heat of the moment (that Hunsford proposal in the 95 version was cringing).
I'll shut up now so I stop giving things away. But we've got several more chapters of this story before we reach a resolution. We still haven't heard from Mr. Collins, remember? And Wickham still has a trick or two up his sleeve.
Chapter 23
Elizabeth awoke with a smile on her face. The memory of Darcy's hand on her waist as she fell asleep led to dreams of dancing a waltz with him. Looking over at the clock, she was surprise to see that it was eight o'clock.
Is it morning or night? she wondered.
Falling asleep in the early afternoon after her father sent her to her room had thrown off her sense of time. She looked out the window and saw there was sunlight peeking through the clouds.
As if realizing how long she had slept, her stomach instantly began growing. She quickly dressed and went downstairs to join her family for breakfast in the drawing room. The stairs caused her some momentary dizziness, but it quickly passed.
"Lizzy!"
Mary and Lydia pounced on their sister as Elizabeth entered the room. Embraces were exchanged, and Lydia clung to Elizabeth's arm.
"Papa wouldn't let us come see you last night when we returned," pouted the youngest Bennet daughter. "He said we mustn't disturb you until you woke up."
"I clearly needed the rest," Elizabeth said. "Where did you go?"
"We were tending the winter garden and helping distribute Uncle Gardiner's latest rice shipment to the tenants," Mary replied.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "I'm surprised he let you go after what happened with the Carson family."
"He insisted on Uncle Phillips accompanying us," answered Mary.
Jane interrupted the conversation by handing Elizabeth a plate and playfully chastising her younger sisters. "Girls, let Lizzy sit down and eat something!"
Elizabeth took some toast and eggs — her stomach was still somewhat queasy — and sat down near the fire. February was just beginning, and the frigid cold still crept into the house, even with the fire.
Once everyone was settled in their seats, Elizabeth turned to Mary and asked, "How was your visit to the Gouldings?"
Mary blushed slightly and said, "Everything is well at their house, thankfully."
"Ah, I'm delighted to hear Mrs. Goulding is holding up fine. I know you were very worried about her," Elizabeth teased.
To Elizabeth's delight, Mary quickly stuck her tongue out. She blushed furiously when Elizabeth laughed, causing all eyes to turn towards them.
"What is everyone laughing about over there?" demanded Mrs. Bennet, who was with Mrs. Phillip on one side of the room. "I must have my share of the conversation!"
"Mary was just telling me about how her visit to the Gouldings went," Elizabeth quickly replied.
"Oh, the Gouldings! I remember once when Mrs. Goulding — before she was married, that is — was completely taken with a young man from…"
Mrs. Bennet began to prattle on to her sister, who nodded in agreement with everything that was said. Elizabeth looked at Mary, who mouthed, "Thank you."
Elizabeth smiled and whispered, "It was my fault for laughing so loudly. But you know how much I dearly love to laugh. But in all seriousness, how was your visit?"
Mary blushed and said, "Oh, Lizzy, we spoked for almost an hour! His mother sat in the corner and embroidered, while we discuss the books we've read and the measures we've taken to survive the winter. He listened to everything I said and asked for my opinions on things."
"That bodes well, if he is willing to discuss serious matters and hear your insights, not just share his own opinions."
Mary vigorously nodded her head. "I don't think I've ever had anyone listen to me so attentively for so long."
Elizabeth felt a twinge of guilt. "Mary, you know I—"
"Oh, Lizzy, I don't mean anything by it!" Mary said, cutting her sister off. "There are so many people in this house, and it's impossible to listen to everyone say everything. Even when we are alone with each other, there are so many matters to discuss. Especially lately. Perhaps, in the past, I may have felt left out. But this year has shown how much I am truly loved by my sisters."
Impetuously, Elizabeth leaned forward and gave Mary a quick hug. "I am glad to hear it. Every woman should feel valued and important to her husband."
"Lizzy, we're not engaged! We're not even courting!"
"No, but you are near enough to it as you can be without him speaking with Papa. Is he planning on doing so?"
Mary bit her lip and nodded. Elizabeth squealed slightly, but then rapidly covered it with a cough. This was enough to call her father's attention.
"Lizzy? Are you unwell?" Mr. Bennet asked sharply.
"No, I simply swallowed wrong," Elizabeth replied.
He watched her closely for another moment before nodding in satisfaction and returning to the stack of newspapers that had finally been delivered.
"Anything of note in the news, Papa?" Elizabeth spoke loudly over the room's noise, causing all to fall silent and await Mr. Bennet's response.
He sighed heavily and said, "Napoleon is dead."
Everyone in the room stared at him in surprise. Elizabeth let out a short burst of laughter, then covered her mouth and said, "Forgive me, Papa, but I think I must be more tired than I felt when I woke up this morning. I thought I heard you say that Napoleon is dead."
"I did say that, my dear. Apparently this terrible weather has affected the entire Continent as well. The French populace became infuriated with Napoleon continuing to push a war when so many are starving. He was assassinated sometime after a suffering a brutal loss at Trafalgar."
"Why, that is wonderful!" cried Elizabeth. "Astonishing, but wonderful! Now our boys can all come home."
"And settle down to get married," added Mrs. Bennet, causing the room to burst into laughter and joyous celebration.
It was in the midst of this tumult that Bingley and the Darcys were announced, but no one heard their arrival above the din. They stood in shocked confusion at the chaos, unsure of what to do or why it was happening.
Elizabeth was the first to notice their presence. She rushed over and gave Georgiana hug. "Napoleon is dead!" she cried.
She then reached her arms out as if to hug Darcy, but she stopped suddenly and put her arms down at her side.
"What?" exclaimed Darcy. "How do you know?"
"Papa received his newspapers yesterday that had been piling up due to the storms. He just read about it!"
Darcy frowned. "I hadn't heard the news; but then again, I haven't begun to look through the ones that were delivered this morning, as I typically prefer to read in chronological order."
"That's wonderful news!" Bingley interjected. "This means your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, can return home!"
"Yes!' exclaimed Georgiana. "Oh, I must tell Lydia! I've been telling her all about him."
Bingley had made eye contact with Jane, so he and Georgiana went in search of the Bennets with whom they most desired to speak, leaving Darcy and Elizabeth alone at the door.
"I am very happy for your cousin," Elizabeth said, suddenly feeling awkward over her earlier enthusiasm and near-embrace.
Darcy looked at her for a long minute, then glanced quickly around the room. Without a word, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the hallway.
"What are you—"
Her words were cut off when his lips came down onto hers.
Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock. Mr. Darcy is kissing me.
She wasn't sure whether to slap him or kiss him back. It was her first kiss, after all, and she had no idea if she had the courage to either of those things.
Before she could make her up mind, Darcy pulled back from her.
"Forgive me," he said breathlessly. "That was terribly improper of me, I know. I don't know what came over me. I assure you, I am not the type of gentleman who goes around kissing young ladies."
"Then why did you?" she asked.
"Because I have been wanting to ever since you stayed at Netherfield."
Elizabeth's raised an eyebrow. "Really?" she asked with skepticism. "Your behavior in Meryton suggests otherwise."
Darcy hung his head. "I know. I'm ashamed of how I treated you then, just as I am ashamed of behavior just now."
Now Elizabeth had both of her eyebrows raised, and she gave him a look of utter confusion. "I'm afraid, sir, that you will have to be more clear."
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, causing the ends to appear disheveled. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so, Mr. Bennet appeared in the doorway.
"Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Darcy? Or is my daughter the only person to whom you could ask for a history of our hallway?"
Darcy floundered for an answer, but Elizabeth spoke first. "Mr. Darcy was a bit overcome by the noise in the room, Papa. He stepped out for a moment, and I wished to ensure he wasn't in need of anything."
"I see."
But it was clear from the tone in Mr. Bennet's voice that he was in some doubt of Elizabeth's answer.
Darcy blushed and said, "My apologies, sir."
Mr. Bennet gave him a stern look and said, "I believe, Mr. Darcy, that this conversation may be best conducted from my study."
Without waiting for a response, Mr. Bennet began to walk down the hall. Without a glance at Elizabeth, Darcy followed afterwards, shoulders slightly slumped.
Elizabeth watched as her father ushered Darcy into the study, then turn to her and say, "Elizabeth, I believe you should return to your sisters now."
With that, the door closed.
Darcy walked into the study with feelings of trepidation. The door closed loudly behind him, and he flinched. Unsure of whether or not the noise was loud due to Mr. Bennet's anger or his own sense of guilt, Darcy chose to remain quiet.
Unfortunately for him, Mr.. Bennet also chose to remain mute after he settled into his chair behind the desk. The deafening silence grew more and more uncomfortable until Darcy could feel his heart thundering in his ears.
"I love her."
Darcy and Mr. Bennet stared at each other in shock. It took a moment for Darcy to realize the words had come from his mouth, not Mr. Bennet's. He then groaned and sank into a chair, burying his face in hands.
"Well, I would congratulate you, but it seems you are not particularly excited about the matter," responded Mr. Bennet.
Darcy stood up from the chair, unable to remain sitting. He paced back and forth for several minutes, then walked over the window and stared out at the snow, trying to collect his thoughts.
Mr. Bennet seemed content to wait out his guest. He sat patiently, just looking at Darcy look at the snow.
How can I even begin to explain this? Darcy asked himself. I can't marry her. I love her, and I want to marry her. I don't want to live this life without her in it. But I can't.
Sighing heavily, Darcy turned around and looked Mr. Bennet with despair.
"All my life," he began, "my father taught me the importance of position as heir to Pemberley. He drummed into me the duties of being landlord and master to hundreds of men, women, and children. Their livelihood, their well-being, is directly related to myself and the choices I make."
"It sounds as thought he taught you good principles," replied Mr. Bennet.
"He did," Darcy agreed with a nod. "My father was the very best of men. When my mother took ill shortly after Georgiana was born, he started to lose some of himself. They were not a love match, but he was very fond of her. When she died after a lengthy, debilitating decline, he threw himself into estate management. As heir, I was pulled in with him. This turned out to be fortuitous, as he passed on much sooner than I would have liked. Because of his tutelage over the years, there was a seamless transition between his passing and my succession."
"I can see how that would make things easier for you," Mr. Bennet said mildly.
Darcy nodded again. "As you may have heard from the rumors, my income is about ten thousand pounds per year. That has been greatly diminished, however, by the previous years. Harvests have been poor, and I have waived the rents of my tenants for the last two years."
"That is very generous of you!" Mr. Bennet exlaimed with feeling.
Waving a hand, Darcy said somewhat impatiently, "I do not tell you this so I can hear your praise. I want you to understand my position."
"Very well," Mr. Bennet imperturbably.
His temperance produced a calming affect on Darcy, who took a deep breath before continuing. "Instead of living off rents, I have been forced to use the capital I have in the Funds in order to feed my tenants. This entire endeavor with the Russian wheat has all come from that principle."
"Ah," said Mr. Bennet.
Darcy waited for Mr. Bennet to continue, but the man just stared unblinkingly at him, his face revealing no hint of the emotions beneath the surface.
This man puts my own stoic face to shame.
Pressing on, Darcy said, "My plan is to spend the next five to ten years retrenching and increasing my accounts to what they were. However, Georgiana will be coming out. The cost of a Season in Town is quite high. As the granddaughter and niece of earls, there will be high expectations for her. Additionally, some of my income stems from the interest of her dowry of thirty thousand pounds."
Mr. Bennet's eyebrows raised, demonstrating the first sign of emotion since they entered the room together. "Which would leave your coffers in an even worse position."
Darcy nodded. "Precisely. I am hopeful that with prudence and restraint, I will be able to recover some of my inheritance. However, no one knows how long this winter will last. What if summer never comes again for several years, or even decades?"
"That puts you in quite the predicament," Mr. Bennet acknowledged.
"The best way to ensure Pemberley's solvency and to continue to provide for the people who rely on me is to marry a woman of significant fortune."
"How much does the grandson and nephew of an earl fetch these days?"
Darcy ignored the sardonic tone and answered bluntly: "No less than sixty thousand pounds, perhaps more."
Both of Mr. Bennet's eyebrows flew up. "Goodness, that is quite a sum. Are there that many young ladies in England who possess dowries of that amount?"
"Not many, but there are several. Miss Sophia Grey, for example, has a settlement of fifty thousand pounds, and she is merely the daughter of a gentleman and not in the nobility. A few daughters and nieces of dukes have up to eighty thousand pounds, plus more upon the deaths of their parents. Or they inherit estates that can be sold to obtain the funds. There are also very high dowries that come from the daughters of successful tradesmen who are looking to move their children into higher circles. These tradesmen may also be willing to pay a high price for an estate, thus becoming gentlemen themselves."
Darcy finished rambling and looked at Mr. Bennet, who stared back at him, silent.
"So you see why I cannot marry your daughter, no matter my personal feelings."
Without a hint of emotion, Mr. Bennet replied, "You are not in an enviable position, my boy. I would not trade your situation for all the wealth in the world."
Darcy let out a sigh of relief at having been understood. His reprieve was short-lived, however, when Mr. Bennet's face grew decidedly stern. In a hard voice, he said, "No matter how much I pity you, I cannot allow you to trifle with my daughter or her affections. If you cannot act honorably, then I must insist you cease paying her attentions. Elizabeth is not to be meddled with, understood?"
All Darcy could do was nod in agreement. Mr. Bennet wasn't saying anything he hadn't already told himself. "I do not wish to hurt her. May I… may I have a moment to speak with her?"
Mr. Bennet was silent for several moments, causing Darcy to hold his breath in anticipation.
"Very well," the older man finally agreed. "I will send her to you. You will have five minutes, no more, and I will leave the door open. I will be watching the clock in the hallway right outside."
Mr. Bennet left the room. After being gone for what seemed to be an eternity, he returned with Elizabeth, who looked at Darcy with curious eyes.
"Five minutes, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet warned before stepping out in to the hallway.
Darcy turned to look at Elizabeth. The faint smile on her face and anticipation in her bright eyes made him feel smaller than the lowest ant. He took a deep breath, donned an emotionless face, and began to speak.
"Miss Bennet, I must offer once again my sincerest apologies for my behavior earlier. It was inexcusable, and I can only say that it stemmed from the impulse of the moment."
The happiness on Elizabeth's face slowly faded to confusion. Whatever she had been expecting, an apology was not it.
Rushing to speak, the words flew out of his mouth without thinking. "You see, my station in life demands that I marry someone with a specific set of criteria, and I am afraid you and your family's situation do not meet the requirements I must maintain in order to not fall to degradation. Whatever personal feelings there are cannot outweigh what I owe to my family and my estate. I cannot allow the shades of Pemberley to be disgraced, and I must put the claims of duty and honor above all other considerations. I regret my behavior towards you, and my position is such that I cannot court or marry you. I apologize for giving any other impression."
The shocked look on Elizabeth's face was enough to stop his disjointed ramblings. When his mind finally caught up with his mouth — when he realized everything he said could be understood in an entirely different way — it was too late.
"I thank you for the courtesy of your honesty," Elizabeth said in a trembling voice. "You have said quite enough, sir. I perfectly understand your feelings, and I have only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Please accept my best wishes for your future plans, as well as for your health and happiness."
With that, Elizabeth turned on her heel and walked away, but not before Darcy saw the shimmering tears in her eyes slide down her cheeks.
"Wait—" he began, but it was too late. She was gone.
Mr. Bennet came into the room and fixed Darcy with a glare. "That was badly done, Mr. Darcy. Very badly done, indeed. I understand what you were trying to say, but you expressed yourself in the most callous way possible, showing a side of you that appears to be devoid of any proper feeling. I must demand you leave my house and not return."