A/N: Here's a short and somewhat absurd take on the Hunsford Proposal.
Warning: This is OOC even by my standards. For visuals, it's best to picture the 1995 BBC miniseries.
Wade
"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."
. . . He concluded with representing to her the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all his endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer; and with expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of his hand. As he said this, she could easily see that he had no doubt of a favourable answer. He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real security. Such a circumstance could only exasperate farther, and, when he ceased, the colour rose into her cheeks, and she said:
P & P Chapter 34
"... Please, consent to by my wife."
As Fitzwilliam Darcy finished what he considered the most important speech of his life, he looked at the woman he had been thinking of as 'his lady' for some time, but noticed her face bore a puzzling mix of what appeared to be… apprehension? confusion? dread? Whatever the expression, it was not the look of excited or calm acceptance he was expecting.
Much to his surprise, she balled up her fists, beat them down on her legs a few times, and screamed, "AAAAAAAHHHHH! What is wrong with me?"
His expression changed to one of near panic to match but he answered her near shout with a whisper, "Miss Bennet?" wondering if she was about to swoon or worse.
Finally, she sighed with an anguished expression and slumped over in her chair. "I suppose that was not the response you expected."
"Indeed not. You seem quite distressed. How may I help?"
She let out a great exasperated sigh and pointed to the opposite chair. "Pray have a seat, sir."
He sat down and looked at her critically but apparently could not think of an appropriate response.
She cryptically said, "I am a failure, Mr Darcy! A complete, absolute, and utter failure. I am like a hunter who is very good at tracking and stalking but unwilling to make the killing blow," and then she stared at her hands with a ferocious frown.
"Perhaps you can explain," he asked gently.
She once again blew out a big breath. "I will, but… before we begin… might I ask you to retract your offer, sir? In the very unlikely event, you find yourself still inclined in a half-hour, you are welcome to ask again—although, to be perfectly frank, you may want to revise the part about my unsuitability to make it less insulting."
Darcy looked thoroughly confused (as usual) but carried on gamely. "I will comply, Miss Bennet—but I think the possibility of an improved proposal is stronger than you appear to think. I rarely change course once I have decided."
"You will not say that once you understand what I have to tell you."
He settled down in confused silence and nodded at her to continue.
She sat in agitated silence for some time and tried to start two or three times before she finally managed to do the job. "I assume my reaction must be confusing. I would assume you believed me to be anxiously and nervously awaiting your proposal?"
Darcy looked sheepish. "Yes, I admit I was, although now I can see that must seem an arrogant presumption."
"Not as arrogant as you might think."
She still looked confused and reluctant to continue. "Once again, how may I help, Miss Bennet? Something is clearly bothering you."
She clasped her hands together. "Mr Darcy—every single person who knows me would swear on their life that I dislike you quite intensely, and you would be the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry. In fact, however, I was expecting your address—I have been hoping for it for quite some time."
"What is the problem then, Miss Bennet? I belatedly realize my proposal was more insulting than loving, which a proposal really ought to be if it possibly can, but that does not quite explain your reaction."
"Because sir… well… ah… allow me to explain. I was expecting your proposal because I have been actively working towards that goal for some time. In fact, I decided to try to make you my husband the first time I saw you at the Meryton assembly. Every single interaction since then was done specifically and deliberately to advance that goal. In essentials, I am no better than Caroline Bingley, my mother, or Lady Catherine."
She stared at him with a sigh, then continued ruefully, "There are only two essential differences. Firstly, I appear to have used better stratagems, as your presence suggests. Secondly, I lost my nerve at the last minute. I was unwilling to accept the coup de gras I have been working toward for half a year."
Darcy stared at her in stunned silence for quite some time, and finally gasped, "Explain yourself!" but then looked as if he could not work out if he should be repentant at his harsh tone or righteously livid.
"I hardly know where to begin."
"Try the beginning," he said in what looked and sounded much like fury.
Though both members of the little tête-à-tête were tense as bowstrings, they both managed to sit back in their chairs with an appearance of calm while Elizabeth began her tale.
"It all started the night of the Meryton assembly. We were anxiously awaiting the Netherfield party. When you entered, I daresay I spotted two preening peacocks, one drunk, one boy and one MAN. It did not hurt your case that you were the most handsome man I had ever seen. You were obviously uncomfortable with the attention of both Miss Bingley and the company at large, which I considered to be to my advantage."
"Your advantage? Might I ask why?"
"I assumed a man like you would have been put upon by the matchmaking mamas of England for years! Your single state indicated you had the defences to survive the usual stratagems. Mr Bingley was obviously either a rake or an incautious man since nothing else can explain that level of puppy-dog exuberance. I assumed that if I was cleverer than the rest of my competitors, I could gain an advantage from your reticence."
Darcy chuckled. "So, when I declined to allow your mother to badger me into asking you to dance?"
"I considered that my first victory. Offending my mother was the surest way to at least put a dent in my local competition. As you implied in your proposal, Mrs Bennet is a stranger to decorum, but she can be vicious. Gossip makes or breaks reputations. At that point, she did not like you but could have been brought around to a very different way of thinking with a single whiff of matrimonial scent. Her disapprobation served my purposes. She did not goad you to dance by her own inclinations. I was whispering in her ear the whole time. She goaded you and reacted to your rejection by my design."
Darcy looked thoroughly shocked and horrified. "If I had danced with you?"
"That would have begun an entirely different strategy. At that point, I was not trying to win. I was simply trying to not lose while reducing the competition."
Darcy continued his ferocious frown. "Pray, continue."
"Your behaviour the rest of the evening was about as useful as I could expect, neither good nor bad for my plan—until Mr Bingley nagged you to dance. When you called me 'tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt you', I thought I had just scored a major victory—probably the decisive victory of the war. You were like a general politely delivering all your artillery to your enemy. I naturally repeated it to a few prolific gossips, and with a very few sentences, you discouraged every bit of my local competition. Miss Bingley was obviously not real competition, as you could barely tolerate her presence, and if we may be frank, it is not as if a man of your consequence would marry a rather vulgar daughter of a tradesman anyway."
Darcy frowned but did not answer.
She took a quick breath. "That said, Jane, Charlotte or Louisa Goulding could have been contenders. At that point, I considered the battle mine to win or lose."
Darcy gasped in surprise. "You heard me slight you, and still wanted to pursue me?"
She frowned and looked at the ground shamefully. "More than ever. I think sharks call that 'blood on the water'. You once said to Miss Bingley, 'A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment.' Well, sir, truer words were never spoken—at least in my case."
Darcy sat in stunned silence with his head shaking back and forth disconsolately. "I think that was at Lucas Lodge during our second meeting. Are you saying your nefarious plan was already in effect then?"
"Certainly! I had already dispatched most of my local competition by blathering on about how much I disliked you to anyone who would listen. Everyone in Meryton has always thought of me as a very resilient woman, so if you were too taciturn for me, then you must be irredeemable. You frighten people, Mr Darcy—and I used it to my advantage. I could make you a saint or a pariah in Meryton society with a few well-placed words. I obviously chose the latter."
Darcy sighed. "I remember that I was just starting to notice you as an attractive woman during that evening at Lucas Lodge. I particularly liked your playing, after which I even mentioned your fine eyes to Miss Bingley, which went about as well as you might expect. I cannot say what rationalization I used on myself, but I will admit I was subtly eavesdropping on your conversations. In fact, I remember you calling me to task over it after speaking to Colonel Forster."
Elizabeth snorted most indecorously. "You were about as subtle as a charging bull, sir, but I was doing my own manoeuvres as well. Did you think it happenstance that you could hear my conversations without going out of your way or embarrassing yourself?"
He just raised an eyebrow in question.
"I was placing myself in your path and discussing very specific topics to see your reaction. I could show you my notes if you like. I have pages of them. In hunting terms, I was studying my quarry to determine what type of bait was effective. I believe most people find your mien impenetrable, but I found you easy enough to read. You acted exactly as I would expect of a man hunted for the better part of a decade for sport."
"So, everything that evening was a part of your stratagem."
"Yes, sir."
"Why did you refuse to dance when Sir William handed you my head on a platter?"
"Because I judged—probably correctly—that refusing to force you to dance would gain me more advantage than spending a half-hour dancing. At that point, I thought I was starting to take your measure, and I wanted you to take mine. I wanted you to think you were not dealing with another mercenary miss."
Darcy sighed. "Until just this moment, that was in fact what I thought. Oh, I rather hypocritically assumed you would accept me for my wealth and social position if nothing else, but when I heard you declined Mr Collins, I thought that meant you were of a different stripe."
"I am afraid not, Mr Darcy. I have come to esteem you in a way, but most of our interactions have not been the slightest bit honest."
Darcy chuckled. "Are you convinced my interactions with you have been sincere? What do you think I have been doing the last four months but trying to convince myself you were unsuitable?"
Elizabeth gasped in surprise. "So, you had some esteem when you left Hertfordshire?"
Darcy chuckled grimly again. "More than 'some', but I had convinced myself you and your family were unsuitable."
"Is that why you dragged Mr Bingley away? The colonel told me about it this morning."
Darcy shook his head in confusion. "No… well… not entirely anyway. Bingley could have tolerated Miss Bennet's position better than I. The situation of your mother's family, though objectionable, was nothing in comparison to that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters, and occasionally even by your father."
"Yes, we need say no more on that score. I am well aware of my family's defects," she said with a sigh.
He sat forward and started to reach for her hand but paused. "You and your elder sister are to be exempted from such condemnation. You both always acted properly."
"So, what was wrong with Jane?" she asked in confusion.
"I watched her most carefully after Sir William interrupted…"
She laughed. "If I had my fan with me, I would have smacked him on the head."
Darcy chuckled and continued. "It might have helped, but more likely would have just elicited a few more Capitals," he said with a matching laugh, then continued more seriously, "That was the first time I was aware of the general expectation of marriage with nothing save the date to be decided. I confess to being distracted from my friend's endeavours."
Elizabeth smiled but then sighed as he continued.
"I watched most carefully for the rest of the evening, and I shall not scruple to assert, that the serenity of your sister's countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart was not likely to be easily touched. She gave Bingley the same smiles she gave everybody. That, coupled with your mother's obsessive gloating at supper, caused me to think he was walking into a trap."
Elizabeth sighed. "Charlotte warned Jane that she should show her feelings more, (or at all for that matter), but she could not be bothered."
Darcy scrunched his eyes. "Neither did you… in so much as you had feelings and not solely mercenary motives."
"I will not lie. At that time, I was primarily as mercenary as I had ever been, but I confess, I was starting to like you somewhat more than just a bit," she said, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
"So, why bring up Wickham in our dance? Why end it with an argument."
She looked chagrined. "Are you certain you wish to know?"
"I most assuredly do."
"I had the premonition that my family's behaviour might drive you and Mr Bingley away, so I was …" she said with a sigh, but then found she could not continue.
"Go on," he encouraged gently.
"… I thought to spark either your protective instincts, since Mr Wickham was obviously a lying scoundrel, or maybe even some jealousy. It failed spectacularly, but I thought I would have a few days to work on you. Your precipitous departure ended all my plans."
She stared at her hands, while Darcy pondered what she had said.
"Your visit to Netherfield to nurse your sister—was that part of your grand plan?"
Elizabeth looked sheepish. "Jane coming by horseback was one of my mother's hare-brained schemes, more likely to cause harm than good. I visited the next day mostly to make sure Jane was in no real danger, but also to mitigate the damage. I admit that I continued to study you while we were there, but at that point, I had not very much hope for success. I mostly wanted to limit the damage done to Jane's chances while advancing my own if possible."
He sighed, "Why not make your affection, such as it was, known to me?"
"And appear loose, mercenary or wanton… thank you, but… no. You would have left Netherfield like a shot from a canon. I suppose I share that defect with Jane, but the difference is that Jane was just afraid to show it, while I thought it was more likely to drive you away than pull you closer. That last half-hour in the library I tried to make you start a conversation by the sheer force of my will, but, alas, I had no success and decided to try again later."
Darcy thought about what she said for some time, while she fidgeted nervously and twisted her hands.
"When you found me at Rosings?"
"Do you think I found you here by chance?"
"Now that I think about it—no."
She shrugged, then resumed. "I continued my campaign. Why do you think I teased you at the pianoforte? Why else would I tell you the path I preferred, and then walk it every day like clockwork, if I was not inviting your company? Only an idiot would avoid a man by telling him where to find her."
"What did you get from our conversations?" he asked curiously.
"That you were still a man of few words, and very-very unsure of your choice. You asked me about staying at Rosings, about the Collins marriage, and even what I considered an easy distance to family. No other explanation could be found for those questions but that you were considering me very carefully. I still had no idea if you would finally follow your inclinations or run away again, so I could not be overly grasping. To be honest, I had no idea if you were unsure, careful or just timid."
Not liking the 'timid' part of her supposition, he sighed. "So, when I made my proposal?"
"I was hoping for your address, but not truly expecting it. I honestly thought you would leave again."
"I suppose we must be the worst two communicators in the world," he said somewhat ruefully.
Elizabeth laughed. "We truly are very-very bad, but I suspect my parents, Jane and your aunt could at least compete for the dubious honour."
Darcy laughed along with her, perhaps their first genuine shared laugh.
He finally said, "So, I suppose we come to the most important question. Why not go for the kill when I was laid out at your feet? You finally could have had everything you strove for with a single word or even just a nod of your head. Why snatch defeat from the jaws of victory?"
Elizabeth stared at her hands for quite some time, watching them wring each other nervously and finally sighed.
"In the end, I just could not do that to you. It was too unfair. Oh, I would have been a good wife to you, and I would have given you all the respect and love you could ask for, but I just could not force your hand, nor begin our life together with a lie. I apparently lack the killer instinct."
Darcy asked quite diffidently, "Is that not the very definition of love—or one of them, at least? You allowed your concern for me to take precedence over what you wanted for yourself?"
She stared at his face for quite some time and finally blew out a deep breath. "I cannot say. I have been stuck in my predatory attitude for so long I no longer know what is real."
Darcy laughed, which surprised her. He finally reached across and took both her hands, partly because it felt like a romantic gesture, but mostly because her endless fidgeting was driving him mad.
"Perhaps, my dear, I can resolve it for both of us."
She frowned. "I do not see how. We have both been dishonest, almost every moment of our acquaintance."
He squeezed her hands. "Perhaps most, but not all—certainly not the last quarter-hour."
"What do you mean?"
Darcy jumped up agitatedly, walked over to the fireplace, and paced back and forth exactly as he had upon entry, frowning ferociously.
He finally began speaking as earnestly as he had the first time. "In vain we have struggled. It will not do. Our feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to speculate quite freely, but not entirely without evidence, of how ardently we despise and love each other."
Elizabeth let out a nervous giggle worthy of Lydia but then took up the mantle herself.
"In spite of all our endeavours, we have found it impossible to conquer our feelings for each other. We have been in a state of open warfare, confusion, and misdirection almost from the first moments of our acquaintance. In declaring our mutual regard, we are going against the wishes of both our respective families, our friends, and even our own better judgment. The situation of my mother's family, though objectionable, is nothing in comparison to the total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly betrayed by your lady aunt, my mother, my three younger sisters, at least half of my cousins, and occasionally even by my father and the colonel. I know my family is socially inferior while yours are unrepentant snobs—our social situations are vastly different. I am well aware of the family obstacles; they have always opposed our inclinations for each other. I daresay that we must be so much in very confused love as to wish to marry in spite of all our mutual objections."
He laughed heartily and took up his part. "I hope that now we will be rewarded by your acceptance of my hand so that we may torture each other through eternity and also save the rest of the world from our ceaseless machinations."
Elizabeth laughed heartily. "Despite all these objections—which should be sufficient to dissuade anyone with the slightest pretence of good sense—I would pray that we may overlook the obviously unworkable nature of this endeavour, and relive our mutual suffering by agreeing to bind ourselves as man and wife."
"I was supposed to say that," he said with a pout.
"Simplify, sir, simplify."
Darcy strode back across the floor, took both of her no longer fidgeting hands, and then pulled her onto her feet and into his arms.
She laughed gaily. "No knees, please. I despise the implied supplication."
"You just despise that it is typically the last time a man acts thus, but I believe we will order our lives very differently. Others will smile, but we will laugh. Shall we settle it between us that we are to be the happiest couple in the world?"
She smiled, and whispered, "Get to the point, Fitzwilliam."
"My love, my partner, my fearsome warrior, will you marry me?"
"I will."
All confusion was swept away with the passion of their first kiss, and neither the fourth nor tenth did any harm either. Of course, being caught kissing fervently in the parlour by Mr Collins was not as amusing as you might think, but the couple survived it, as well as all the other extreme reactions they were expecting. Of course, it was considerably easier to enjoy all their many relations many reactions from 300 miles away since they both left immediately for Scotland to tie the knot before either of the principles or their relations could muck it up.
Their chaperones found the whole story so amusing they decided to marry while they were so conveniently in Scotland, but that is another tale for another day.
~~ Finis ~~