The Same River
There is an old saying that goes: "You can never step in the same river twice. Because it is always flowing, it is also ever changing." Unfortunately for Elizabeth Bennet, it would seem that this saying was not necessarily true. Perhaps she would have to continue with wet feet until she finally got it right.
Rosings Park, 1812
One of the features of Rosings Park in Kent which Elizabeth Bennet found particularly delightful was Rosings River, from which the park and estate first took its name two centuries prior. Truthfully, on the estate itself it did not actually merit the title "river," but four creeks fed into it just before it crossed the property, so it could rightfully be considered the headwaters of that larger body. Regardless of semantics or title, the watery channel which bisected the estate was a delightful feature which Elizabeth greatly enjoyed visiting.
Being young, agile, and still somewhat of a hoyden, she also enjoyed skipping lightly along the larger boulders which allowed her to cross the river without wetting her feet. Unfortunately, on the day in which our story begins, Elizabeth was not so lucky. Perhaps it was just ill luck, or perhaps it was foreshadowing, or maybe it was even a trick of the gods, but when Elizabeth was halfway across, her boot slipped and she suddenly found both leather-bound feet quite firmly planted ankle deep in the water.
Other young maidens of the time might have hurried home to change and written the day off as a loss, but Elizabeth was made of sterner stuff. She gaily laughed the incident off and adopted a more careful trek the rest of the way across. Then she continued on with her boots making a squelching sound with every step. After another twenty steps, she wisely found a secluded area to remove her boots to dump out the remaining water. Then she squeezed out every bit of water she could from her stockings, petticoats, and dress. After all was done, she rested back on the large boulder to allow the morning sun to warm her and aid in the drying process.
Then she extracted the latest letter that she had just received from her dear sister Jane, who was currently residing in London with their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. Although Jane attempted to write her letter cheerfully, Elizabeth could still feel her sister's anguish over what had been such a promising romance with the suddenly absent Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth was convinced in her own mind that Mr. Bingley would have proposed to Jane had it not been for the intervention of Mr. Bingley's horrible sisters and equally complicit Mr. Darcy... the very man whose continued presence was a blight on her enjoying her time in Kent.
All of this took about half an hour, the result of which was that Fitzwilliam Darcy missed her on the trail which he had so carefully mapped out so that he could "accidentally" meet her each day. When she failed to appear he eventually grimaced and continued on his way. He was completely unaware of Elizabeth's negative feelings towards himself. In fact, he was in the midst of an epic battle in his own mind as to whether or not he should lower himself in order to secure Elizabeth as his wife.
The second result was that when Elizabeth finally restored her boots and carried on her own journey, she encountered Colonel Fitzwilliam instead. She had been perusing her letter for the third time when she encountered the man. Sighing inwardly, she put it away and offered a greeting.
"I did not know that you ever walked this way, Colonel."
"I have been making a tour of the park," he replied with a smile while appreciating the picture that the lovely young lady made on this fine spring morning, "as I generally do every year. I had intended to close the tour with a call at the Parsonage. Are you returning or will you be going further?"
"No, I should have turned for the Parsonage in a moment." He joined her and they turned towards the parsonage together.
"Do you leave Kent on Saturday," Elizabeth asked, trying to hide her eagerness for the information. She enjoyed the Colonel's company but would be glad to have done with that of Mr. Darcy.
"Yes, if Darcy does not put it off again..." What followed was a fateful conversation which, as a result made Elizabeth so angry that she claimed a migraine to avoid going to Rosings that night and encountering that hateful Mr. Darcy.
Matters did not go as she intended, however, and only half an hour after her hosts left the Parsonage for Rosings, the man she most wished to avoid presented himself before her. A shocking proposal was followed by a stern refusal which was then followed by bitter words being exchanged by both parties.
Mr. Darcy departed in anger. Elizabeth vacillated between rage, tears, and confusion until she eventually made her way up to bed.
~oOo~
Elizabeth did not remember waking, dressing, or departing from the Parsonage that following morning. Her very first awareness happened as her boot slipped and she found both feet soaking once again in the Rosings River. Shocked, confused, and disoriented, she made her way across and once again adopted her perch on the same boulder as before. Odd. This makes no sense at all! How did I come to be here? The last things I remember were that horrid proposal, our argument, and going to bed!
She laid her hand on her hip and felt the outline of the folded letter still in her dress. I thought that I had placed it in my trunk with the others...? Matters were stranger still when she extracted the letter only to find that is was un-creased and that the wax seal was unbroken. Was it all a bad dream? Perhaps it was! Mr. Darcy named me barely tolerable, so why would he then propose, no matter how insulting the proposal? That must be it!
Elizabeth broke the seal and felt slightly dizzy to find her sister's words to be exactly those of her dream-letter. This time she was still too bewildered to feel the same level of anger even though in her dream both the Colonel and Mr. Darcy himself had shown the offensive man to have played a large part in separating Mr. Bingley and dear Jane... well, perhaps she was angry after all.
Eventually the sun did its work and Elizabeth set off again. It took ever ounce of control she had not to cry out when Colonel Fitzwilliam met her on the path exactly as before. Even their ensuing conversation was the same, though Elizabeth's portion was slightly disjointed and confused.
When the Colonel's visit to the Parsonage ended, Elizabeth immediately went to her room and promptly tucked the letter away in her trunk. Then she sat on her borrowed bed and tried to make sense of her morning. Finally, she reached a resolution: Everything that happened after this in the dream happened because I cried off going to dinner at Rosings. I shall attend instead! Then that horrible proposal can never happen!
Despite a very real headache, Elizabeth did exactly as planned and dressed for the evening. Lady Catherine was just as haughty and annoying as feared. Anne Debourgh was just as mousy and silent as on every previous occasion. Mr. Collins made the same groveling compliments. The Colonel tried to tease. And that hateful Mr. Darcy would insist upon being the only one who noticed her discomfiture and being solicitous to her needs! All that she desired was to be away from them all, but by his insistence she was soon being deposited in a guest room so that the local physician could visit in the morning!
Somehow either Mr. Darcy or the Colonel convinced Lady Catherine that she was the one who had noticed the problem, and so no arguments thereafter could be entertained.
Eventually Elizabeth found herself tucked into bed in the very last place she wanted to be. Worse still, her mind would insist upon playing back the seemingly genuine concern in the eyes of the last man in the world who she would ever consent to marry! Vexed beyond reason, Elizabeth finally closed her eyes and allowed sleep to take her.
~oOo~
And then her boot slipped and she was once again standing in the river. Gone completely was any sense of amusement over the incident. Now she was angry, frustrated, and more than a little frightened. When she made her way out of the water this time, she did not bother to dry her boots. Instead she stomped down the path furiously, then, fearing that Mr. Darcy might meet her on the trail, she veered off and took the most direct route back towards the Parsonage.
Having failed to dry her boots and then traversing an uneven trail back, Elizabeth's feet were rubbed raw in several places by the time that she reached the Parsonage, but she did not care. Instead her entire focus was on getting as far away from Rosings and a certain person as humanly possible.
Dishonesty was not in her nature, but on this day she could not make herself care, "Charlotte, I must away to London and Jane as soon as possible. I am sorry to end my stay early, but it must be done."
Charlotte, on seeing her friend's disheveled and frantic state, quickly asked, "Is something amiss with your sister, Eliza? I know that you received another letter."
"I cannot say, dear Charlotte, and I beg you not to inquire further. I still have more than ten pounds remaining, so I mean to take the Post to London immediately."
"The Post! Alone? No, Eliza, you cannot! I shall send one of my maids with you. Go and pack your trunk while I make the arrangements."
Elizabeth felt terribly guilty about deceiving her friend and inconveniencing a maid, but it had to be done. An hour later Elizabeth and a scullery maid named Alice were riding in a crowded Postal coach toward London. Her eyes became so heavy that, even in a carriage full of strangers, she found sleep overtaking her.
~oOo~
Elizabeth's boot slipped and she was standing in the river once again. This time she was so frustrated that she just stood there and let loose a scream of frustration. Then, angry and feeling trapped, she began slowly making her way to the other side. Before she was five feet past the dry bank, she heard running footsteps and she knew. Everything in her wanted to hide, but this time she intended to deal with the problem straight away and have done with it.
Just as she feared, within a few seconds of hearing the rushing footfalls Mr. Darcy burst out of the wooded path, his face awash with worry. "Elizabeth! Thank God! Are you hurt?! Has anything happened?!"
Elizabeth was so shocked at his informal address and his very obvious concern that she barely reacted when he reached for her to check for injuries. "Where are you hurt? You are wet, did you strike your head? Did you fall and twist your ankle?"
While he was asking this his large hand felt her head and then he started to kneel. The shock of his next intended action finally broke her out of her stupor and she jumped back, "MR. DARCY! Stop this now! I am fine! I have no injuries other than my pride, so please desist!"
Darcy stopped, suddenly red-faced as he finally realized the liberties he had taken. As he stood there breathing heavily, Elizabeth could not miss the fact that despite his shame, he still looked incredibly worried. It would have been... endearing...
NO! I am angry at him! This will not do! "Mr. Darcy, I assure you that I am well. But since you are here I may as well ask you the questions that have plagued my mind. You stated that you rejoice in the success of your efforts to separate Mr. Bingley from my sister. You even had the audacity to claim that you saw no signs of affection from my sister. How is it that you feel justified to make such judgments about someone you barely know?"
Darcy was rocked back by Elizabeth's vehemence and thoroughly confused, "When did I..." Unfortunately, he fell back on haughtiness as a shield against her attack, "I do not know how you came by this information, but I will admit that did advise my friend against proposing to your sister. I observed her quite carefully and could find no signs whatsoever of affection."
Elizabeth wanted to strangle the man, but she had to settle for clenching her fists, "You judge my mother and sisters, and even my father, for a lack of decorum and yet you ruined my dearest sister's happiness for the opposite! Jane does not even reveal all of her secrets to ME!"
Darcy could not miss the rage even though he found Elizabeth beautiful even in that state. He tried to justify himself, "I have never considered Miss Bennet to be mercenary, but I heard your mother proclaiming the match as a done thing and feared that your sister would be left with no choice in the matter. Is it wrong to want to protect a friend from a loveless marriage?"
"If everything that MY MOTHER declared as done came to pass, then I would be Mrs. Collins right now! Just as I refused that pompous fool, Jane would have refused your friend if she did not desire the match... WHICH SHE DOES! And what of Mr. Wickham? You seem to claim justice in the first action, but how do you justify your actions against him!?"
Darcy's eyes turned black and cold. All tender feelings fled, making Elizabeth still. Then the man answered coldly, "You seem to take a great amount of interest in that man. Even when I finally got you to dance with me you spent your time asking about him. Fine then. I shall tell you what matter of man you have made your hero."
For the next few minutes Elizabeth stood in shock as Mr. Darcy gave a true, accurate, and very accounting of his relationship with George Wickham. Elizabeth had tears in her eyes when she was done, but the affectionate, concerned man from before was gone now.
As soon as he was done, Fitzwilliam Darcy said a cold, "Good day, Miss Bennet," and walked away.
Elizabeth was left standing there, her heart and mind in a muddle as she reviewed all of her encounters with George Wickham. Now that she knew the truth, she found herself finding all of the half-truths and inconsistencies in the mans words and actions. To think that I have put such a man on a pedestal! I wanted to find something to hate about Mr. Darcy due to my own wounded pride, not because of any proof!
Then she recalled that Mr. Darcy was still the man who had hurt a most beloved sister... But even if Mr. Darcy could not see my sister's heart, shouldn't Mr. Bingley have been able to? He was with her for as many minutes and hours as he could manage for more than a month and yet he accepted the words of another. Did he ever even bother to ask Jane herself?
Then another guilty thought snuck in. Did I not try my hardest to discourage Charlotte from marrying Mr. Collins? I could not stomach such a match for myself and could not imagine Charlotte in such a marriage, yet is she not content with her lot. Was I wrong to try? Am I any less guilty than Mr. Darcy?
That thought finally allowed her to think on other words which she had actively tried to purge from her mind: You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.
But how can he say that after the way he behaved in Meryton?
Elizabeth made her slow way back to the parsonage that day. Not wanting to speak with anyone, she went to her room, shut her door, and fell into bed.
~oOo~
"Allow me to stop you right there, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said that very next... or rather that same day one day later.
"I...," Darcy began, torn between passion, confusion, and frustration.
"I believe that your first words concerning me specifically were 'she is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me,' whereupon you further chided Mr. Bingley's offer to introduce me by pointing out that you did not with to give consequence to a young lady who had been slighted by other men.' Where those the words of a gentleman, Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy stood there, dumbfounded, "You heard me that night?"
"You were not exactly quiet in your appraisal, Sir."
"Oh Lord, what you must think of me... I should never have spoken such tripe, but I did so only to make Mr. Bingley leave me alone. I was not even aware that you were nearby and I certainly would not have directed those words at you."
"I find that difficult to believe, Mr. Darcy, since your friend specifically offered to introduce me to you and then you looked right at me."
Darcy closed his eyes and tried to remember, then directed a contrite look her way, "I looked towards a lady some distance away and in the shadows. I could not see her well and she held a book on her lap. But if that was you then you could not possibly have heard me."
This time it was Elizabeth's turn to close her eyes, trying to see the scene again. I was right there, only slightly to his right and slightly behind... Oh my... he never even saw me! Still, she was not quite ready to simply forgive and forget, "Be that as it may, since that time all that you have done is scowl and glare at me on every occasion seeking to find fault and argue with me whenever I opened my mouth."
"I... I thought that we were debating, El... Miss Bennet. I have enjoyed our debates and thought you did as well... and do you truly believe that a man looks so often at a beautiful woman to find fault?"
Did he say beautiful? Surely not?
After that, Elizabeth begged to be left alone. She had too much to think about.
~oOo~
"... the total want of propriety..."
"MR. DARCY!"
"Uh... uhm... yes?"
"You are a brother, are you not? You have a younger sister?"
"Yes. Of course. You must know this?"
"Precisely. Now, think on this: if a you heard a young man declaring himself to your sister and then he started going into all of the reasons why such a match might be a degradation for him, what would you do to this young man?"
Darcy's face turned red with anger.
"Precisely. Good night, Mr. Darcy. Please see yourself out."
~oOo~
Elizabeth had lost count of the number of times that she relived the same day, beginning with stepping into that dratted river. No matter what she tried, it always ended with her falling asleep and waking up with wet feet. She had even tried drinking too much tea so that she would remain awake all night. It all began again somehow.
The truth was that Mr. Darcy had cleared up many, if not all of the misconceptions that she had about his character long ago, but she was still stuck in the same rut. She had even considered accepting his proposal just to end this terrible day, but quickly squashed that idea. Even if... and this was a big if... but even if she might be starting to like and appreciate the man, the fact remained that a man who could pepper his marriage proposal with a list of her faults and failings would not respect her if she accepted... and respect was the key.
She and Jane had long ago promised themselves and each other to only marry for the deepest of loves. For Elizabeth true love was surrounded and fortified by respect. And a man who truly loved her would not fixate on everything wrong with her family and circumstances. It was a shame because Elizabeth no longer thought of Mr. Darcy as the last man in the world she would ever agree to marry. In fact... but that was beside the point.
Elizabeth could not hold back her sigh when the tall and forbidding and unfairly handsome Mr. Darcy once again stepped into the sitting room at the Parsonage, had in hand, and asked after her welfare as a prelude to proposing. She could not take her eyes off of the man as he stalked back and forth, agitated and nervous. He was almost... adorable...
Then he gathered his courage and began again, as he had so many times before, "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you..."
"But I hardly know you, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth almost pleaded. "And you don't know me."
"Pardon? I... How can you say that I do not know you, Eliza... Miss Bennet? I have thought of little else but you since October of this past year. I know that you..."
"Allow me to stop you there, Mr. Darcy, and correct my statement. You have studied me, perhaps, but you do not know me, and I can certainly say the same about my knowledge of you. Allow me to prove my point. Just after you finish with that very touching and endearing first statement, you were intending to tell me all about your struggles in deciding to choose me. You were going to list everything wrong with my family and my connections and my circumstances. And the thing is, I now believe that you honestly intended to prove to me how much you care for me by showing how many obstacles that you overcame in reaching this moment."
Darcy stood there in shock, robbed of speech by the accuracy of Elizabeth's prediction. She continued, "If you truly knew me, you would know that your words would not endear me, but would rather raise my anger by attacking all of my insecurities. You very words would have ended any possibility that I would ever consider accepting your hand."
Darcy looked defensive, but then the truth of her words sank in, "I am a fool. But how?"
"That is not important right now. As to my second assertion, that I do not know you, allow me to also prove my statement: You are obviously uncomfortable in crowds and among strangers. That I clearly understand. But your method of avoiding discomfort, by stalking around the room and scowling at one and all, means that most people will always be strangers... including me. On the first night I met you, at the assembly, I thought you a very handsome man, but more pleased with yourself than with your surroundings. That impression has persisted by your own behavior.
"I do not know you, Mr. Darcy, because you have almost consistently, until very recently, either avoided me or kept me at arms length. Then, when you are near, even here in Kent, you seldom speak and often maintain a stone face. I, who thought myself a better than average judge of character, have judged you most harshly since that first night. I do not know you because you have never allowed me to know you."
Darcy slumped slightly, defeat evident in his eyes. "I apologize for troubling you this evening, Miss Bennet. I see now that my own behaviors have made my suite unpalatable. I can only wish you God's blessing and take my leave."
Elizabeth felt alarmed and suddenly unwilling to leave matters as they were, "You misunderstand me again, Mr. Darcy."
He turned back, confused, "And how is that, Miss Bennet?"
"You do not know me and I do not know you. I think that is a given. Yet I think... no, I know that I would very much like to know you... the real you behind the stone façade. And I would also, very much, like for you to know me."
For the first time since entering the room, Darcy had a gleam of hope in his eyes. He stood there for a few minutes and Elizabeth stood patiently waiting until he finally, tentatively, asked, "Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would you allow me the very great honor of a courtship so that we might truly get to know each other and learn if we might suit as husband and wife?"
Elizabeth smiled and stepped forward, "Yes, Mr. Darcy, I think that I would like that very much indeed."
They discussed the specifics of that matter for a few more minutes before a very subdued but happy Fitzwilliam Darcy kissed Elizabeth Bennet's hands and then excused himself, whereupon Elizabeth took herself up to her room and very dreamily prepared herself for bed. For the first time in a very long time Elizabeth was happy and pleased with how her day had ended. She was so happy, in fact, that she forgot to worry about tomorrow being another today.
~oOo~
Elizabeth woke to the sun shining in through a break in the curtains. It took her several minutes to realize that she was awake and in bed, not standing in a river with waterlogged boots. Very cautiously, as if this might all fade at any moment, she rose from her borrowed bed and dressed for the morning. She donned a comfortable day dress and slippers instead of her walking dress and boots. Then she walked down the stairs to find the Collins and Maria going about their breakfast.
Charlotte smiled at her friend and asked, "Eliza, you look refreshed. Is the headache gone?"
Smiling brightly, Elizabeth happily answered, "Yes! I believe that it is. How was your dinner at Rosings?"
She sat patiently through Mr. Collin's effusions about Lady Catherine's condescension, with a few contributions from Charlotte and Maria. Twenty minutes later Mr. Collins excused himself to make his rounds while Elizabeth helped the two ladies and the staff to set the house in order. Then, right at ten, just as she hoped and expected, Lady Catherine's two nephews paid a visit to take their leave. Mr. Darcy was as quiet as usual, but his stony countenance was gone.
He and Elizabeth's eyes met several times and much was said which was left unspoken. He intended to pay a visit to Charles Bingley as soon as he returned to London. Then he intended to accompany his friend to Gracechurch Street, where it was hoped that Bingley could renew his suit with Jane Bennet while Mr. Darcy intended to establish a friendly rapport with the Gardiners. By the time that Elizabeth arrived a week later, he hoped to have set the stage for a quiet and discrete but successful courtship.
When the men departed, Maria went to explore Rosing's formal garden while Charlotte attended to household matters. Elizabeth took a walk, but she stayed far away from the path which would have taken her to the river.
AN: Sorry for stealing an idea from Groundhog Day, but the story was in my head and just had to get out. Hope you enjoy it anyway.
To the Guest reviewer who asked for more Mary and Kitty stories. I would be happy to write them, but just don't have any ideas at present. If you or others have suggestions, then I am open to trying them out. Sometimes they work and sometimes they don't.
