A/N: Hey gang, looks like we're off to either a bang-up start or yet another BNFC (Boring Netherfield Ball Compromise). A couple of notes.

Some people don't know the TLAs (Three Letter Acronyms) for fandoms, so FMS caused some confusion. You can find a list of them at wademan DOT com SLASH tla. That one is Forced Marriage Scenario, which as you know is just a way to make dramatic tension. I don't actually know if compromises were really a thing, but we all agree they make good stories. My favorite of the acronyms from a pure funness perspective (is that even a word) is FCA, for Freak Carriage Accident, followed by HMS for Happy Monkey Sex.

This first chapter is pretty packed, mostly because it's not really the story. It's just the setup for the story, and that's all I'll say for the moment.

Reginald is just the backup-backup heir. He was the reason the Colonel could serve in active duty and get himself conveniently captured.

There were some future plot elements hinted in the conversation that will be explained at the proper time.

If you're anxiously waiting for lots of E&D interaction where Darcy will redeem himself, well you'll have to wait a while – quite a while.

So, anybody interested in what Lizzy thinks of the whole thing?

Wade


Tue, Dec 3, 1811 – Longbourn, Hertfordshire
Musical Accompaniment: Search for If Hammer Peter Paul and get the first video


"I will not marry that man!"

The statement, which was shouted loud enough to be heard throughout the house, caused Elizabeth Bennet's two youngest sisters to giggle, her eldest sister to frown ferociously, her middle sister to open her mouth for some platitudes, and her mother to screech like a banshee.

Equally determined, Mrs. Bennet stridently screamed back, "You will marry him, you ungrateful child. He has ten thousand a year and likely more. You will save your entire family. It is your duty, and you will do it, if I need to drag you to the alter bound and gagged. Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces. Make no mistake, Missy – you will marry him. The die is cast."

Switching into a low and menacing voice, Elizabeth said, "I will not!"

"You will! What do you think, Lizzy – that you get to pick and choose? Do you think we can keep you forever? You are lucky I am looking out for you, as you are quite the spinster in the making, and you are likely to end up starving in the hedgerows."

Elizabeth marched up to the offending matron, stood toe to toe with her and growled her response.

"If I am doomed, which I will strongly dispute, it is your fault. How many suitors have been warned off by a loud and vulgar mother? How many local boys can afford the possibility of having to support five extra mouths? John Lucas is the best prospect in this village, and he can barely manage to support Charlotte, let alone another gaggle of undowered daughters. You are the one that has prevented Jane and I from attaching tradesmen in town. You are the one that spends every farthing on fripperies and your own comforts instead of things that might actually attract a husband. You are the one that disparages three fifths of your daughters' appearances to everyone who will listen, and many who will not. You are the one that thinks Jane must catch a rich husband, instead of a good one. You are the one that has two of your daughters out when they should be in the schoolroom or chained up in the yard. Your husband is the one that did not take you in hand to teach you some sense. Your husband has refused to control your offspring and your spending. The pair of you are the ones that did not save a penny for your daughter's education or advancement. Now you expect me to pay for your laziness for the rest of my life. No, I repeat. I will not do it, even if the cretin does return from town to ask for my hand, which after a week, seems increasingly unlikely."

By that point, Elizabeth was practically spitting at her mother, while Mrs. Bennet looked like she was winding herself up for a scorching reply.

Elizabeth stepped back and threw her last barb. "Face it, Mother – you played a poor hand very badly, and our current pitiable state is entirely your own doing."

"You will cease this incessant caterwauling at once!"

The entire house went silent in shock, as Mr. Bennet had not yelled with such force even once in living memory.

As everyone paused, the patriarch continued, "Elizabeth, you will attend me in my library. Your mother is right, for once. You will marry him. If he does not come voluntarily, I will go and drag him back. The rest of you shall remain silent, or better yet, absent!"

Being absent from the house was not something easily accomplished as the Bennets were mostly being mildly shunned by Meryton society, while it waited to see what would happen. Since most of the denizens of the village assumed Mr. Darcy would eventually be brought to the point, the ostracization was not in full effect just yet. Mrs. Bennet had doubled down on her large bet by telling all and sundry that she fully expected both Mr. Darcy to return with an offer for her daughter Lizzy, and Mr. Bingley to return for Jane as well. Nobody believed the latter, and almost nobody believed the former, but they were willing to give it a few more days to see. The entire debacle was entertaining if nothing else.

Elizabeth said, "I repeat myself, Father. I… will… not… marry… that… man. I will not spend the rest of my life paying for my parent's indolence. The gossip will die down eventually if we quit throwing fuel on the fire."

"You will – but –"

Whatever Mr. Bennet was planning to say was interrupted by the parlor door opening. Mrs. Hill stepped in somewhat gingerly. She was not 'afraid' per-se, since anyone who survived a decade of Fanny Bennet had to be resilient. That said, she wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible so she would have enough time to prepare for whatever self‑induced crisis was to come next.

She handed the gentleman a card. "Mr. Darcy to see Mr. Bennet."

Bennet glanced at the card, sighed, and snapped at his family. "You will all cease this nattering at once! I can only hope he did not hear the last five minutes of yelling and screeching, although that amounts to hoping him to be stone deaf."

Mrs. Hill said, "I saw him alight and come in, sir. He looks very angry, but I do not believe he heard anything out of the ordinary. It is down one flight and quite a distance to the front door, even for –"

With that, she decided she should quit while she was well enough ahead, glancing at Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet.

Mr. Bennet said, "Thank you, Hill. I have always lamented the lack of sensible people in this house, but I submit that I was just looking in the wrong place."

Hill gave a small nod. "Shall I see him to the library, sir?"

"Yes, please do. As to the rest of you …" and he looked around at his brood, then continued, "… Elizabeth, you will wait in the white parlor where I can ring for you. Keep in mind that you are still my daughter and subject to my rules, like them or not. The rest of you are not to leave this room until I return."

With a hard stare at his wife, followed up by another from his offspring, ending with a stern warning complete with finger wag at Elizabeth, he left to meet his future son in law.


Half an hour later, Elizabeth was sitting nervously fingering the bruise on her arm, shaking in trepidation and fear. She believed Mr. Darcy had ahold of her arm when her mother started her caterwauling, or perhaps he grabbed her reflexively. Either way, he ended up squeezing her arm hard enough to raise a rather nasty bruise.

Mr. Bennet did not know about the long-ago incident, but Elizabeth had seen a farmer's wife beat black and blue by her husband, ending with a broken arm, when she was twelve years old. The image had haunted her for months. The farmer was not prosecuted for the assault, and was not even overly chastised by local society, as he was considered within his rights. Later, the young lady had overheard a discussion about the legal aspects of such abuse. Apparently, the rule of thumb was that a man could beat his wife as much as he chose, so long as the rod was no larger than his thumb and he did not kill her. She had no idea if that was true or not, but the fact that someone could even suppose such a thing was terrible.

Now, the 'gentleman' her parents proposed as husband could raise a bruise that was still present a week later without even thinking about it. What would happen if he became truly angry, or decided to use a rod or fists? She had no reason to believe he acted that way ordinarily, but little evidence against the thesis either. The bruise could well be an accident, caused by the shock of Mrs. Bennet's subterfuge or just the way the man acted normally. Perhaps, Mr. Wickham was right, and Mr. Darcy was just a proud and cruel man. If true, it would explain nearly every interaction she had observed. Elizabeth had no idea if that was to be her lot, but she was also in no hurry to find out.

The half‑hour of sitting waiting for the two men who had control of her life to finish their conference had shaken her to the bone. She could hear the shouting even through the thick library door, which was certainly a bad sign. She was only glad Mr. Bennet had kept the rest of the family upstairs where they were not likely to be aware of it. She only hoped her father had been equally careful with the servants – not that she expected to escape the gossip anyway. Whatever her prospective groom and her father was arguing about was quite violent, as she had now heard all the shouts that gentleman had ever said in her life in a single half‑hour. Apparently, there was some vigorous dispute about something, but Elizabeth had no idea what it was.

She was startled out of worrying her bottom lip and chewing her nails by the library door slamming open. Elizabeth stared up to see Mr. Darcy striding out of the room, with her father walking behind him.

Mr. Darcy and her father bowed to each other like two men made of stone, and Mr. Bennet said, "Join me now, Elizabeth. First though, perhaps, Mr. Darcy would like a moment with you."

Mr. Bennet turned and walked back to the room, while Elizabeth came into the hall. She nervously curtsied to the man but had no idea why.

Mr. Darcy nodded his head so slightly it was barely detectable, then growled in a whisper that was more frightening than shouting would have been. "You win this round, Miss Bennet. Good luck with the next."

Elizabeth gasped, realizing that her proposed husband thought that she was a participant in this debacle. She shouted, "Mr. Darcy, I was not a part of …," but by that time, she was talking to empty air, as the gentleman had turned around abruptly before she started speaking and was already halfway through the door.

He turned at the last moment and growled, "Never deny it again, Miss Bennet. I may be in a family position where I can be worked, and I will do my duty to protect my family's reputation – but I am not stupid."

With a growl, he turned and continued from the room, as her voice trailed off to, "… this debacle."

The door slammed like a harbinger of doom, and the next phase of her miserable existence began.

Elizabeth stared at the closed door and started shaking in fear. She stood rooted to the spot for a moment but deciding her courage must rise to this challenge as it never had before, she straightened up, turned, and marched into the bookroom to start the battle for her soul.