Wow, 11 reviews in a day and a half, and most very thoughtful and detailed! I never expected to get such a reaction. Yay! You've definitely earned an early update. Keep it up and the chapters will get posted just days apart instead of once a week.
Note, Elizabeth did not accompany the Gardiners to Pemberley and Lambton; Mary did instead. While Guest is right that I did not account for Mrs. Bennet's jointure, for purposes of this story, assume my description of their finances is accurate.
2. Mr. Darcy Begins Making His Proposal
As I have said, Mr. Darcy arrived on April 23rd. We still occupied Longbourn but the house was almost empty, save for those few furnishings we were saving for when we had to be out. Therefore, there was but a single sofa, our featherbeds lay on the floor, and what had not yet been moved was crated. I felt embarrassed at how Charlotte and Mr. Collins would be greeted by an empty house, but there was nothing else to do.
I was walking round the back of the house when I heard the distinctive sounds of a horse and carriage. My heart felt as if it had flown into my throat. I was horrified that the Collinses with their small daughter, Catherine Anne, had come before we had removed. However, as I made my way to the front, it soon became apparent to me that this was not a hired conveyance. The horses were too fine, the carriage too sleek and elegant (although it was dusty from the road).
I first supposed that it might belong to Lady Catherine, the great lady in her beneficence having lent it to her former parson, but wondered at the lack of cases and trunks strapped to the outside. However, any thought that the Collins might lie within was disabused when its single passenger stepped out. Mr. Darcy looked handsomer than I recalled. His head was bare, his back straight, and his wavy dark locks were rather too long, and slightly rumpled from his trip. He wore a fine coat, waistcoat and trousers, while I wore my black dyed dress that was worn and overdue to be laundered. He gave a single nod of acknowledgment and strode in my direction.
He said naught until he was close at hand. "Hello, Miss Elizabeth. I was sorry to hear about the passing of your father."
"You are too kind, Mr. Darcy," I replied, my voice brittle from disuse. It may have been rude of me, but rather than engaging in more pleasantries, I determined to get to the reason behind his presence. "Why are you here? I cannot account for it, unless perhaps you have some letter regarding the Collinses, if you are come from Kent." Easter had just passed and while Mary seemed cheered by the day and all it represented, Mamma and Lydia bemoaned the simplicity of our Easter dinner.
Mr. Darcy shook his head. "Not at all. I have come to speak with you, to offer another proposal."
"Another proposal?" I heard the words as I said them.
"Yes, and I hope to hear a reply more to my liking this time. You situation is much reduced and I understand you will fall further soon. I offer an alternative."
"An alternative?" I heard myself again. Could I do naught but repeat him? He must have thought me simple.
While I tried to think of something more to add, the piercing cry of Lydia's baby cut through the silence. I colored, thinking that although I suspected Mr. Darcy must know of all the particulars of our shame (which had undoubtedly traveled from the Lucases, to the Collinses, to Lady Catherine, to him), now it was all confirmed by the crying. Little George wailed for perhaps half a minute before gaining some comfort. Mr. Darcy made no comment however, picking up the conversation when the regained silence held.
"Yes, may we walk away from here? Perhaps toward that hill that those around here call a mount? I suppose for never seeing the wonders of the north."
I nodded, my mood lightening in taking the daring step of venturing farther from the house along one of my favored paths, and we set off together. I walked quickly, did not look back to see if he could keep pace with me. I may be small, but my steps are quick. However, he did.
We walked in silence. If it was not altogether companionable, it was less uncomfortable than it would have been were we obliged to sit in Longbourn's greatly diminished parlor, with nothing but trice brewed tea for refreshment.
It was good to reach the summit, to see the farms all around. From this height, I could almost fool myself into thinking that nothing had changed at Longbourn. Then I looked over toward the churchyard, fancied I could see my father's grave from there. Sometimes I wished that it were Lydia's grave, Mamma's grave or even my own.
Mr. Darcy then began to talk. "Your position in life has always been far beneath my own. Now it has fallen further still. And yet I have not been able to forget your face, your playful manner, your choosing to debate posing opinions that are not your own."
He hesitated minutely, staring at me with an intensity that hearkened back to me how I had long thought when he was yet a resident at Netherfield and then when he was in Kent, that he stared at me so to find fault. Now, I had a better understanding of what that look meant, felt how it burned me.
Though I had long found Mr. Darcy to be a handsome (if disagreeable and haughty) man, his look lit a flame deep inside me, kindling something where I did not know I had any kindling laid. I felt that my body somehow exchanged some intelligence with his, and responded in a manner that had naught to do with the fully rational personality possessed within my head.
I am not sure if he could somehow sense this reaction, women at least have the advantage that their passions are not revealed through certain bulging of their clothes (not that I had ever seen such evidence on Mr. Darcy), but then he said with no hint of embarrassment, "and your body which I have longed to possess and direct."
A little shiver of fear and something else (that I can now recognize was desire) went through me and I trembled. I was then aware that I was helpless to this man. This freedom I had felt in walking hither came at a cost. I was alone and helpless if he sought to gratify himself with me!
And if he did, all would blame me, for what virtuous maiden, knowing what all of Meryton thinks of her and her family, would ever let herself be alone with a man even out of doors? Still, there was a part of me, a very small part, that I certainly did not acknowledge then, which wanted to be possessed and directed, to taste the passion shown in his frank look of admiration.
Mr. Darcy continued on, "While none know of my ill fated proposal, I confided in my cousin, not the Colonel, but his older brother, the Baron and heir to the Earldom about your circumstances and my base desire for you. I sought his advice as he is a man of the world, has kept several mistresses."
At this point, the only defense I had was to look down as my face reddened with the implication of his words. I feared that having been spurned in Kent, Mr. Darcy now sought to humiliate me by taking the last bit of dignity and self respect I had, if not act on his implied threat. Mr. Darcy was unwilling to let me escape his gaze and with a single finger under my chin, drew my face up to face his own.
I was arrested by what I saw there. There was what might have been desire mixed with loathing. I was not sure if the loathing was directed toward me or himself. But his eyes, his eyes were so dark but also so cold, like lumps of coal. Still he was handsome, oh so handsome.
Mr. Darcy's voice grew lower and more intense as he continued, "My cousin suggested that a quick tumble with a willing woman might cure my condition, but if that was not sufficient I should gain the same from you, either pay you handsomely for the privilege or, if you refused, simply take what I wanted anyway and make recompense later to your male relatives. It was what he would do."
I trembled once again, feeling like a rabbit a breath away from the jaws of a wolf. I imagined trying to run away or fight him off. It was all useless, hopeless. My only hope was that Mr. Darcy had not firmly decided what he planned to do, might still be reasonable. Still, in that moment, I understood that the course of my life was not mine to decide. Perhaps it never had been (had not Lydia's folly which painted us all with the same brush proven that?) but still, before that moment, I had believed the power of choice (even if the choices had greatly narrowed) to still be mine.
Mr. Darcy examined me with a gimlet eye and but for some slight tension upon his brow looked calm, collected, in control of himself. I knew then if he took action against me, it would be based on reason, not some overwhelming and uncontrollable passion, but passion simmered there, also. My eyes focused on his supple lips as he spoke some more.
"Finally, my cousin advised that if one encounter with you were not enough to quench my desires, having taken your maiden head you would you would willingly accept my protection rather than have your downfall bandied about. He explained you would have no choice and would thank me for my debasement of you if it could but spare your family further degradation. Furthermore he suggested that I could earn your affection by providing for your family and yourself with my ample funds. He said that once my obsession had run its course, he would help me find an actress to serve as my peculiar, and you would find a new protector."
I opened my mouth to protest and deny, but something stilled the words from spilling out of my lips. I shook my head in mute disagreement, with all of it, turned and attempted to walk away.
Mr. Darcy seized me by my wrist, tight, and tugged. In being pulled back around, my vision narrowed to only observing how his eyebrows swooped low to cup his dark and fearsome eyes. There was something dangerous and unbridled in him, and it put to mind of knowing how a cat will stalk its prey, not pouncing until it moves. I felt at that moment that leaving propitiously might be more dangerous than staying.
"I must insist, Miss Elizabeth, that you do me the honor of remaining and listening to all I would say. Do you not owe me at least that?"
His eyebrows arched with the last remark and I felt I faced a mere man again. Not trusting myself to speak and say anything of intelligence, I inclined my head and he loosed my wrist.
"While the idea of such an arrangement certainly appealed to my baser side, to take what always should have been mine, what was wrongly denied me by your mistaken sentimentality for the man who then ruined your sister, there was just one thing wrong with such an arrangement in my estimation."
My lips opened then and spoke, "Because you are a gentleman?" I was eager to remind him of this fact, to seize upon his honor to protect my own.
Mr. Darcy grinned then and chortled, a deep, dark sound that was more like thunder than anything else. He shook his head with vigor.
"Not at all, because you would not truly be mine no matter how I possessed you, for you might always leave, take up with someone else. While I would have stamped your body indelibly with my own by being your first, I could never guarantee being your last.
"There is no honor to a kept woman, only avarice. True loyalty cannot be bought with pounds and gifts. Therefore, although it demeans me, I knew such a route was not for me."
I sighed out a breath I did not know I was holding in, but any momentary relief I had was not to last.
"Shall you ask me, then, dear Miss Elizabeth, what I want instead?" His dark eyes pierced me.
I shook my head. I had an idea, but it was a terrible one.
A/N: Sorry to leave you on a cliffie, but this chapter was getting too long. I am very curious as to what you think of this Darcy so far. Is he cruel or kind to be so blunt? What do you think Darcy will say next?