Part 2

Elizabeth sat dumbfounded and furious at Mr. Darcy's declaration of love and proposal. She colored slightly as he stared at her, clearly awaiting for an answer. She opened her mouth, fully intent on refusing him, but when she did speak, it was as if another person had invaded her body and taken control of her vocal cords.

"I believe, sir, that although I do not return your sentiments, that I should express a sense of gratitude, and indeed I do thank you. I must also confess that your offer of marriage was wholly unexpected, and I apologize for my shocked behavior." Elizabeth swallowed and tried to suppress the unknown voice issuing from her mouth, but to no avail. "Sir, you must know that it is impossible for me to marry for love, given the position of my family. Therefore, I must resort to another motive: that is, for the financial security of myself and my family."

Mr. Darcy stared at her in astonishment, and Elizabeth clutched her throat in spite of herself, horrified at what she had said. Yet her voice did not obey her heart and instead went wholly against her wishes by saying (as if it had a mind of its own), "Mr. Darcy, I would indeed be honored to be your wife."

Elizabeth clapped a hand over her mouth and bit back a cry of despair. How could she do such a thing? To be married to this man! How could her voice have betrayed her thus? Mr. Darcy's expression was mingled with bewilderment and relief. He stepped forward and took her hand, raising it to his lips and kissing it almost perfunctorily, without the passion he had previously declared. Elizabeth blinked furiously to prevent herself from crying from sorrow at accepting such a man.

"You have made me a very happy man by accepting me, Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy said in a terribly dull voice. "If it is agreeable to you, I wish to be married at once, without applying for your family's favor, since I do not care for them much."

Elizabeth colored at what he had said. Agreeable to me? To think such a thing! she thought indignantly. But her treacherous voice replied, in an emotionless tone, "I shall do whatever pleases you, sir."

Mr. Darcy nodded and briskly told her to pack her things tonight, for he was going to take her away early in the morning to Scotland where they could elope. He said this very carelessly, without emotion or ardor, but as if it were his duty. Elizabeth choked back tears. If this was what her marriage would be like, she would rather die a spinster. But it was too late to go back on her word now.

Mr. Darcy then took his leave, bowing and kissing her hand once again. When he left, Elizabeth burst into tears. "How could I have done such a thing! Foolish, foolish mistake! Now I shall have to live in torture with that man as my husband!" Nevertheless, she trudged upstairs and began packing her trunks as her fiancé had commanded her to.

The following day, Mr. Darcy arrived at promptly seven o'clock in the morning, before the Collinses were awake, looking particularly grim. The coachman loaded Elizabeth's trunks onto Mr. Darcy's carriage, while he helped her inside before climbing in himself.

Once the carriage door was shut, Mr. Darcy met her gaze, and she was astonished to see the dark pools of his eyes glazed over, as if he were in a frenzy. Suddenly, he reached for Elizabeth, boldly taking her by the arms and pulling her close to him. Elizabeth writhed and tried wriggling out of his grasp, but Mr. Darcy tightly pulled his arms around her. She nearly cried out, but Mr. Darcy muffled her cry by crushing his lips against hers.

In that kiss Elizabeth felt the passion that he had previously professed, and it both scared and thrilled her. Mr. Darcy was by no means gentle; his mouth was pressed so firmly to hers that it almost hurt, and he accidentally nipped her bottom lip, causing it to bleed. Elizabeth cried out again, this time in pain, and turned her face away from his.

Startled at what he had done, Mr. Darcy groaned softly, as if he were in pain, and put his mouth to her ear, whispering in a hoarse voice, "You know not how you torture me, Elizabeth..." Elizabeth's eyes widened, both frightened and fascinated by this new Mr. Darcy.

"How do I do that, sir?" she said, nursing her injured lip.

"By despising me so when I am violently in love with you," was his husky reply before he leaned over to kiss her once again...

Elizabeth Bennet awoke from the disturbing dream, her heart pounding and her headache suddenly returning with full force. She shuddered at the Mr. Darcy of her dream, recalling how wild his eyes were when he looked at her...

Elizabeth pulled back the bedclothes, resolved to think of the...nightmare no more. She ventured to the pitcher of water and splashed some on her face, relishing in the coolness against her hot face. Elizabeth's hand subconsciously went to her mouth, touching the spot on her lip where Mr. Darcy had accidentally bitten down on, in her dream...

With an exasperated cry, Elizabeth furiously put the dream and Mr. Darcy out of her mind and picked out a gown to wear. As she slipped it on, Elizabeth realized that it was the same dress she had worn in her dream, when Mr. Darcy had taken her away from the parsonage...

"Hateful man! Can he not leave me alone?" Elizabeth fairly shouted in frustration. She finished doing up the tiny buttons on her gown and arranging her hair as best as she could. Her ill temper so early in the morning left her slightly nauseated and not at all wanting any breakfast, so she resolved to take a walk about the park before she and Miss Lucas took their leave tomorrow. Erasing all thought of Mr. Darcy from her mind (and failing pitifully), Elizabeth snatched her spencer and bonnet before heading out of her room.

Elizabeth, out of common courtesy, stopped by the dining room where Charlotte, Mr. Collins, and Maria were already breakfasting. Charlotte looked up and appraised Elizabeth, declaring that she looked rather pale and ought to have some breakfast before going out.

"Oh, no, thank you, Charlotte," Elizabeth replied quickly. "I just need a bit of fresh air and exercise...I think I've been indoors too long." She feigned a reassuring smile as she slipped on her spencer. Charlotte conceded reluctantly and bid her goodbye before Elizabeth stepped outside of the house.

She walked a little while away from the house, carrying her bonnet with her. Elizabeth loved the feeling of sunshine on her face and did not want to deprive herself of that sensation by donning her bonnet. She glanced around to see if she was a good distance from the parsonage and if there was anyone about before taking off into a run. She relished in the wind caressing her cheeks as she ran through the woods, feeling all of the stress built up within her dissipate through the exercise. She slowed to a stop once she felt breathless, her face hot from the exertion, and wandered a bit more.

Suddenly, Elizabeth noticed a figure standing a few yards away from her. Startled, she recognized the person as Mr. Darcy, dressed in a gray great coat and carrying a riding crop and hat in his hands. Despite her intense dislike for him, Elizabeth could not help but admit that he looked particularly handsome in the morning sunlight, the wind tousling his hair, giving him an uncharacteristically boyish appearance. Elizabeth realized that she had been staring quite stupidly, and not wanting to be caught, turned to walk away. Unfortunately Mr. Darcy heard her movements and whirled around.

"Miss Bennet," he said in a low, hoarse voice.

Elizabeth turned round and said in a toneless voice, "Mr. Darcy." She glanced up at him defiantly, but Mr. Darcy did not meet her gaze. Elizabeth was startled to notice how bedraggled his handsome face was! His mouth was turned down as usual, but not in distaste, but in defeat and despair. She also noticed that he lacked his usual proud bearing and expression and instead looked downcast, his pride shattered. Elizabeth suddenly recalled the harsh words she had abused him with the day before and was struck with slight guilt. It was true that Mr. Darcy deserved her censure, but to abuse him so cruelly showed that Elizabeth had stooped down to his level, or worse. Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment as the silence wore on.

Mr. Darcy sensed her discomfort, and, not feeling particularly easy in her company, bowed respectfully and murmured, "Excuse me," before stalking off in the direction of Rosings. Elizabeth did not have a chance to reply, nor was she inclined to, but she perceived not only respect but also acknowledgement of his defeat in his bow. She also noticed that as he strode away, the line of his shoulders was slumped considerably, rather than straight with proud bearing, as if he was physically weighed down by the bruises inflicted to his ego. What an effect (wholly unexpected by Elizabeth) her words had obviously had on Mr. Darcy!

Elizabeth shook her head vehemently and pursed her lips. How could she have weakened herself with guilt that way? Mr. Darcy had acted that way on purpose, to inflict these contrite feelings upon her. Elizabeth gritted her teeth and stalked off toward Rosings, her cheeks aflame with new anger. How dare he deprive her of her righteous fury? She had every reason to abhor him and treat him with contempt. I do not regret one word I uttered yesterday, she declared to herself, squaring her shoulders.

It was Mr. Darcy who was still at fault. He was the one who had treated Wickham with disrespect, cruelty, and contempt. He was the man who explicitly disobeyed the wishes of his father at his deathbed, the contemptible brute! He was the man who inflicted such pain and sorrow to her poor sister Jane by presuming to interfere with Jane and Bingley's relationship, as if he was doing a great service to his friend! Elizabeth sniffed derisively. He insulted her family in the worst way possible, and above all of this, he had the presumptuous notion that she, Elizabeth Bennet, could actually accept him.

"After deeming me 'tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt me'? After censuring my family? Insufferable, stupid man!" Elizabeth fumed, entering the parsonage, where she was greeted promptly by Maria.

"The two gentlemen were here to take their leave, Lizzy!" cried she, overcome with excitement.

"Mr. Darcy came here?" Elizabeth all but spat out.

"Well, he went away directly, but the Colonel waited for you for a half an hour," Maria giggled. "And now they are to go out of the country."

"I dare say we shall be able to bear the deprivation," Elizabeth replied brusquely, marching upstairs to her room and shutting the door without a word.

"How could I have been so weak?" she scolded herself. "How could I be taken in, even only for a moment, by his handsome face and contrite expression? It is all just an act. Hateful, hateful man!" Elizabeth threw herself into a chair, her headache returning full force. Mr. Darcy was the cause of her ill temper as of late. It was his fault for behaving so ungentleman-like, for appearing in her dream and giving her a kiss so unforgettable (even though it was just a dream), for inciting within her even the smallest bit of remorse, and for being so damnably handsome...

Elizabeth let out a cry of frustration before burying her face in her hands. Only two days more, Elizabeth, she told herself over and over. Then, at last, you can leave this wretched place.

Just then, Elizabeth's reverie was startled by scuffling and shouting from downstairs. It was Mr. Collins, of course, in one of his tirades about being late for their visit to Rosings. She closed her eyes in annoyance as her headache throbbed harder. "Lizzy!" Charlotte's voice beckoned her urgently. "Lizzy!"

Elizabeth rubbed her temples furiously before taking off her gown and finding something more suitable to wear to her last visit to Rosings. She cursed herself for even agreeing to pay one last visit to Lady Catherine, for she couldn't bear to be in Her Ladyship's company in ill spirits. Mr. Darcy was the cause of all of this. If he had not come to Rosings Elizabeth's visit to Kent would have been at least tolerable. "Hateful, hateful man!" Elizabeth whispered the mantra over and over again, as if to allay her headache, as she descended the staircase, jacket and bonnet in hand.

The walk to Rosings was cheerful to everyone except Elizabeth. Maria Lucas chattered on excitedly, remarking on how many times they had been honored to be guests at Rosings. Mr. Collins beamed at his sister-in-law's exuberant awe at Her Ladyship, commenting on how regretful he was that it was to be their last visit. Elizabeth remained uncharacteristically silent, even through their visit with Lady Catherine, when she usually had some of her pert opinions to share. Her Ladyship was in the middle of remarking on how sorry she was for the Colonel and Darcy to leave so soon. Elizabeth grimaced; she wanted nothing more than for Darcy to be as far away from her as possible.

Luckily, Lady Catherine scarcely noticed Elizabeth's new taciturn behavior and did not comment. However, she presumptuously commanded that Elizabeth stay another fortnight. Elizabeth declined, noticing certain similarities between Her Ladyship and her nephew (abominable presumption, excessive pride, hypocrisy, etc.).

"I am most seriously displeased, Miss Bennet, that you do not heed my suggestion. A young woman is not much use to her father and mother and ought to enjoy pleasures such as ones found here at Rosings. Well...in any case...I find it most improper that you should be traveling post by yourself! Certainly it would be my pleasure to take you in the barouche box."

"No, thank you, ma'am. My uncle Mr. Gardiner is to send a servant when we change to the post," said Elizabeth shortly.

"Your uncle keeps a manservant, does he? Well, it would be most inconvenient to deprive your uncle of his servant, Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine persisted.

"No, indeed, ma'am. My uncle is lucky enough to employ several servants."

Lady Catherine arched a supercilious eyebrow at Elizabeth, but rested her case and said no more. Elizabeth heaved a tiny sigh of relief, praying that the visit would be of a short duration.

That evening, Elizabeth lay in bed, counting the hours until she could leave Kent. She longed to see Jane once again, and she could hardly bear Mr. Collins's or Lady Catherine's company any longer. She found that sleep did not come so quickly this time. Elizabeth was aware in her heart the reason for her sudden sleeplessness. "Hateful man!" she whispered into the night, fluffing her pillow before lying back again. Sleep did eventually claim her after hours of staring into the darkness.