This is a one-shot variation on Mr. Darcy's Ruthless Proposal. In this new version, Mr. Darcy is kind for the most part while he pursues what he wants most. You do not need to be familiar with Mr. Darcy's Ruthless Proposal to enjoy this story, but do need some essential background for this variation:
Elizabeth never went on the trip with the Gardiners. Therefore, Mr. Darcy never learned about Lydia's situation until much later and could not come to her rescue, so when Wickham grew bored of Lydia and her money ran out, he sold her to a brothel. Mr. Darcy did try to help when he found out (via Mr. Bingley who had the news from corresponding with Sir. William Lucas) that Wickham had run off with Lydia. Mr. Darcy was able to learn Lydia's whereabouts from Wickham and anonymously gave Mr. Gardiner that information and money to buy her freedom. Mr. Gardiner did so, and then returned a fallen Lydia to the Bennets. Mr. Bennet refused to allow Lydia back in the house, and suffered an apoplectic fit and died; then Mrs. Bennet brought her in. The Bennets were a subject of conversation at Lady Catherine's Easter dinner, which was the first Colonel Fitzwilliam learned about their situation and he announced to his brother and Darcy that he was going to marry Elizabeth. Anxious to head him off, Darcy rode to Longbourn first, while the Colonel went to London to try to borrow money, counting on an upcoming inheritance to be able to afford a wife.
Mr. Darcy makes his appearance at Longbourn days days before the Collins are scheduled to arrive to Longbourn to take possession (six months after Mr. Bennet died). At this point almost everything in Longbourn that is not physically attached to it has been sold so that Mrs. Bennet and her daughters may rent a dilapidated cottage, Mrs. Bennet's dowry having been expended previously rather than retained for their support. Also, Lydia has delivered a son that does not appear to be Wickham's child, despite her insistence that he is, so the Bennets are all shunned.
Mr. Darcy's Kind Proposal
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 Collinses 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 and everything else you and your family has suffered. Life has been most unfair to you all, I believe."
"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, Miss Elizabeth, to offer another proposal."
"Another proposal?" I heard the words as I said them.
"Yes." He said the word and nodded also. "When you refused me in Kent, I tried my best to forget you, but I could not. I still love you, believe I will always love you," at the first mention of "love" he put his hand over his breast and kept it there, his eyes were soft and distant, "but I felt I had no hope given how vehement your refusal was."
Mr. Darcy's shoulders drooped a bit as he recalled, and his hand drifted down. "I know of the poverty you and yours are suffering, that you shall soon be placed in further reduced circumstances, and I wish to help you, to help you all. I must ask, do you think that now you might be willing to marry me now? I want to take care of you and your family, to help you, and I thought that perhaps given your circumstances you might be willing to consider me again."
"But I do not even like you!" I responded, astonished that he was proposing again.
Mr. Darcy's head dropped for a moment but then he straightened himself up with some new determination. "I know it will be a marriage of unequal affections, but perhaps you might in time at least come to like me a little? I shall do my best to make you think better of me than you did before, for I have searched myself and found the wisdom in your rebukes. I can provide well for you and your family, improve the prospects of your sisters immensely."
I wanted to just say "no" to send him away, but I saw the logic in his proposal and under the circumstances I could not hope to ever receive another honorable proposal, Lydia and the birth of her son had seen to that. I wondered if Mr. Darcy knew that my fallen sister had a bastard child, that even now they both dwelt in our home.
"I always had hoped to marry for the deepest love," I said quietly, more to myself than to him, as I prepared to give up that childish dream for once and for all.
Mr. Darcy reached a hand in my direction, but then apparently realizing that it would uncouth to touch me in any manner, even in trying to console me, he lowered it down. He was silent for a few moments, likely contemplating what I had just said.
Finally he replied, "To marry with mutual affection and love was always my greatest desire as well, but we cannot always have what we want, must settle for what is. But as for you, Miss Elizabeth, you may still marry for the deepest love, but it shall be a different kind of love. You can marry for my love of you, for your love of your family, who I shall take as my family and treat as such.
"If we marry, I shall bring your whole family to Pemberley, set them all up in the dower house (unless you shall prefer some of your sisters or all of them in the main house). I shall give your mother more fine things than she has ever dreamt upon, a new carriage with matching steeds, dozens of bolts of fabric, hundreds of yards of lace and a dedicated seamstress to make up any garments she desires, seasons for your sisters in London so they may find rich men. Could she want for anything more?
"As for Miss Bennet, once we are engaged, I shall write to Bingley and explain the happy news and invite him to come for the wedding. I believe once he sees Miss Bennet again, and knows that she shall be my sister, that the taint of what has befallen Miss Lydia has been ameliorated by my actions, that he will gladly pursue her again. Perhaps they might marry and he might purchase an estate near me.
"I understand that Miss Mary is the most accomplished young lady in the neighborhood, but for most of her accomplishments she has had to learn things herself. I believe she would delight in having masters engaged to teach her more skill on the pianoforte (the dower house has an instrument, but I shall procure one finer), to develop her voice, and perhaps to help her learn new accomplishments as well. I have the means to hire them all for her, to give her the opportunity to learn more than she can glean from books.
"As for Miss Catherine, I do not know much of her, but I shall do whatever you think would be best for her, a governess, school, masters, whatever you prefer.
"And regarding Miss Lydia, well that is a more delicate matter . . . "
Just then 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, 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.
"Having become an unmarried mother, it would be best if she married and moved somewhere where no one knew her, somewhere that her husband can make others believe that her son is his. It is not that I will not let her come to Pemberley if that is what you would all agree is best, although that is not my first preference given that I should not like to have to give up the raising of my sister to the Colonel and his family, but I might have no choice if I harbored that unfortunate woman.
"Do not misunderstand me. Miss Lydia is so young that the fault of what has occurred lies squarely at the feet of Mr. Wickham. But society can be most unkind and most unforgiving. Mr. Bingley will have less qualms about pursuing your sister if the situation with Miss Lydia reaches a happier conclusion."
"I understand," I told him and I did. "I must have a moment to think upon all of this."
"And have it you shall. What say you to us taking a walk? Perhaps toward that hill that those around here call a mount? If I recall correctly you much like to walk and as for me (and it might be true of you as well) I have found that walking or riding helps me organize my thoughts. That is, if you do not mind walking with me. Never fear, I would always observe all proprieties."
"Yes, I should like that well," I responded and found that I meant it. "I have not been to Oakham Mount for nigh on six months, for since my father died I do not like to be away from the house, for I was not there when he fell and he was long gone when I returned." I recalled then seeing my father's lifeless body arranged in the parlor.
"I am sorry," Mr. Darcy said, even as he extended his elbow for me to take his arm if I so desired. It was an invitation and not a demand. But I found myself grasping his arm with something like gratitude. "I was fortunate enough to be present when my father died, and as he had been ill for a long time, his passage, just after making things right with God, was something of a relief. I cannot imagine how devastating it must have been for you to return to such shocking, terrible news."
"Yes, it was the most horrible day of my life," I replied.
We walked on in silence. It was I who selected the path. We walked quickly and found a pace in which our different lengths of strides nonetheless matched up. If was companionable, comfortable, and I was glad to recall that it avoided the embarrassment I would have suffered if I was obliged to have him sit in Longbourn's greatly diminished parlor, with nothing but trice brewed tea for refreshment. But I also imagined that if, when, I accepted his proposal and he took refreshment in Longbourn that he would ignore all that was missing and be a delightful and engaging guest, for he would exert himself on my behalf. It was pleasant to imagine it and I knew then that I did not dislike him anymore.
It was good to reach the summit, to see the farms all around, but as we were done walking I was obliged to let go of his arm. Oddly enough, I missed it, missed being close to him.
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. "This is a pleasant sight, one that you shall doubtless miss should you accept me. But I wish you could see the views around Pemberley. There is a lovely stream and lake, fine woods and many pleasant vistas. I think the land, the sky, would help to alleviate some of your suffering, give you some peace, perhaps in time even joy. I should like it all to be yours, to share it with you."
I did not think Mr. Darcy was pushing me to answer then, but it was then that I knew what my answer would be, but still there were a couple of questions I wanted answered first. I turned to him, and away from the view.
"What do you expect to get out of all of this, if we marry? All I can see is what you are offering me, when you have every reason to want to pursue a more suitable match."
"All I seek to gain is you," he replied. "I shall hope to win your heart, but shall settle for whatever I can get. I am not entirely unselfish, for in marrying you I shall gain from you those interactions which occur between those who have married."
"Interactions?" I thought I knew what he meant, even if it was couched in vague, pleasant terms, suitable to a maiden's ears.
"Yes, of all sorts." Mr. Darcy nodded and then elaborated. "I shall have you as my hostess, as my companion. I can imagine us reading before the fire in Pemberley's library, us riding horses together. Yes, I know you do not ride now, but I should like the pleasure of teaching you how. Pemberley is so large it cannot all be experienced upon foot, and much of it is inaccessible by carriage. There are many paths where horses may only be ridden so long and then to see more they must be left and the riders must continue by foot."
"That cannot be all you want," I replied, daring him to say more by adding, "what shall you want when it is night?"
"Are you speaking about the marital bed?" Mr. Darcy asked. He then stared 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.
"Yes," I responded.
"Are you asking if I want to claim you, to exercise all rights that husbands have with their wives? If so, the answer is 'yes.' For I wish to have children and that is how they come about. I can imagine our sons and daughters, all brunettes with wavy or curly hair, though I should hope any sons would take after me more than you in height.
"But beyond procreation, I believe the marital act can be beautiful. It should not be something that is done to you, but rather something that we share together. I believe you can enjoy the act as I much as I expect to. "
"So this then is why you wish to marry me, rather than choosing to just perhaps funding a better establishment for me and my family based on your supposedly great love for me?"
Mr. Darcy grimaced. "I am sure you do not mean it that way, but when a man sets up an establishment for a woman, other than a relative, it is assumed, nay expected, that he does so because she has become his mistress. I would never dishonor you in such a way, but even if I wished to fund a home for you out of the generosity of my heart, expecting nothing in return, if it were to become known all would believe it was a quid pro quo, payment for services rendered. That would bring further undeserved shame upon you and your family."
He forced out a chortle, "Even if I could make up a wealthy relative for you, who should conveniently expire, even such a tale would likely not be believed. If I gave funds though your relatives, they might not in fact reach you, and if they did, it would be dangerous, if you had funds and no man to protect you. It would invite all the worst fortune-hunters to seek you."
"We have my Uncle Philips and my Uncle Gardiner," I protested.
"Just how well have they tended to you all?" Mr. Darcy asked, quirking one eyebrow slightly to match his question. "I would have thought they could do more for you than they did."
"Mr. Gardiner would do more had he not spent every farthing he had to buy my sister's freedom," I defended.
Mr. Darcy shook his head in apparent disbelief, and then announced, "There are two things I must tell you, Miss Elizabeth, two things you should know before you make your decision, for I would not want there to be any misunderstandings between us."
"What are they?" I asked, suddenly anxious. I had been ready to agree, ready to accept him, for it was the wise thing to do.
"First, it was I who located Miss Lydia after Bingley heard from Sir William that your sister had run off with Mr. Wickham. I tracked Wickham down and learned from him your sister's fate and then I sent Mr. Gardiner an anonymous note and the funds to buy her freedom. I find it highly suspect that what I provided him was insufficient. If anything, I gave him too much, double what I suspected it would cost, designated that if he did not think she ought to be retrieved that the money might be used to help your family. In doing so, I expected the excess to be used for your benefit.
"It is I, who allowing for the return of your sister may have caused your father to lose his life. It is I who forced your reputation lower for I forced you to live with her disgrace, multiplied by the consequences from her misadventure. I had no notion she was with child, but I should have considered the possibility of it, perhaps found another way to redeem her. I hope you can forgive me for this, for I had no notion of how it all would turn out."
Mr. Darcy hung his head and would not meet my eyes. He looked miserable, guilty.
"How can this be?" I questioned. I could not conceive of Uncle Gardiner profiting from my sister's rescue, holding back funds he gained and lying to us all about his inability to help us to be saved from impending poverty. "How could this happen?"
"I am so sorry, I shall not blame you if you think ill of me now, have no wish to marry me ever, think you were right to reject me before. It is no more than I deserve." Mr. Darcy proclaimed.
As I had not been speaking of his actions at all, I strove to reassure him, "Mr. Darcy, you take too much on yourself. You have done nothing wrong. Having Lydia restored to us, even after all that occurred, is all that we all wanted. I believe in time even my father would have felt likewise. What happened to my father . . . Mr. Jones told us it is likely he would have been struck down sooner or later."
Mr. Darcy looked up at me, disbelief writ large in his eyes.
I approached him and put my hand upon his arm. "Listen to me Mr. Darcy, none of what has occurred is your fault. You have done more for me and my family than anyone else ever has, how little we deserved your kindly, generous intervention. Most men after my cruel rejection should have done naught but rejoiced in me being brought low. I must thank you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister, I am sure once it is known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express."
"You truly are not angry?" Mr. Darcy questioned, looking at me most earnestly, his eyes alighting on where my small hand still grasped his arm. "I have berated myself many times since I found out Miss Lydia bore a child, in not finding another more honorable solution, for I am sure I could have paid some man to marry her, but I did not want to interfere further when I had no right to involve myself in the matter at all."
"Not at all," I replied. "Let me thank you, again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to to take such trouble and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering where she was."
"If you will thank me," he replied, "let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you, might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe, I thought only of you."
Then it was me who could not bear to look in his eyes. I was embarrassed, overwhelmed. Who else would have ever done so much for me? But I was induced to look up when I felt his large, warm hand atop my own (where my hand still rested on his arm), felt him lightly squeeze the back of my hand.
Seeking a distraction, any distraction I could find, I seized upon asking, "What is the other thing you need to tell me?"
Mr. Darcy grasped my hand and gently removed it from his arm before releasing my fingers. My hand felt lonely; I felt bereft as Mr. Darcy walked a few steps away and stared out over Meryton. As he looked away, he told me, "I have not been entirely honest with you, Miss Elizabeth, when I said that I could not help you and yours without marrying you. For you see, my cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam upon hearing over Easter about all that has befallen you and your whole family, announced to us his desire to come and marry you, to save you from this disgrace. I left the next morning, determined to get to you before him and ask you first. I had even considering not telling you of his plans until you had already agreed and we were engaged, but I find that I cannot do that. For that would be wrong."
"The Colonel wishes to marry me?" I asked. "But I thought he had to marry well and I have nothing, am no one."
"It would be prudent if he married well," Mr. Darcy explained, turning toward me again, "but it is likely no longer a necessity, for Fitzwilliam has an expectation from a great uncle." Mr. Darcy hastened to add, "He was not being untruthful to you last spring when he warned you off, for he had no thought then that this inheritance might come to him. Should it come to pass, he can indeed afford a wife, but if you were to marry him, you would have to live simply, and he would not have the means to do much for your family.
"As loath as I am to give you up, you who are not yet mine except in my own fancy, you should know all of your choices. If you should prefer his impending offer to my own, and should he be willing to accept it from me, I could pay for their support and let everyone believe the money to come from him."
"You would do this for me?" I asked, astonished at his selfless generosity.
"Yes," said he. "For I value your happiness above my own. It would be difficult but I would do it for you."
I stared in astonishment at this Mr. Darcy, understood then how little I had known him. I was certain then.
"I know who I wish to marry," I said.
"I thank you for not trifling with me," he announced. "I can give way for Richard, for he is indeed a kind man and you both deserve every happiness."
"No! You do not understand, Mr. Darcy" I responded. "I choose you, for who else would be willing to do so much for another, even without any reward."
The happiness which this reply produced in him was a thing of wonder to behold, for his expression, which had been morose, changed to surprised and then delighted. In what must have been a rare moment of spontaneity for him, Mr. Darcy picked me up in a tight embrace and swung me around.
"Do you truly mean it, my love?" he asked me.
I nodded, too overcome to say a word. Indeed, what more I might have said, I shall never know, for all words fled from my mind. But in some kind of animalistic instinct, which much be connected with the propagation and continuation of mankind, caused me to tilt my head up towards his, soften my eyes and somehow invite my first kiss. Naturally, Mr. Darcy expressed himself on this occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do, for he sprung at me and kissed me with abandon as his arms wrapped tightly about me.
As for me, I had to squeeze my eyes tight, for even as I delighted in being with him in such a way, it was overwhelming as well. No, I did not love him yet, but I knew that I could, that I would if things would continue on as they had started.
The kiss was not long as Mr. Darcy quickly remembered himself and he even went so far as to apologize for acting in such an ungentlemanly-like manner, but as we walked back together, I was quite reassured that given how much I enjoyed that small act of affection, that indeed I might enjoy all aspects of my future married life.
When we reached Longbourn, my mother must have spied us, for she ran out before we had even reached the door and welcomed Mr. Darcy in. It was just as I had thought, he was gracious and kind with my mother though all she could offer him was very weak tea. It was not long before I decided to inform her "Mamma, Mr. Darcy has proposed and I have accepted."
My mother upon hearing this news went very still, her eyes went wide as saucers and she was unable to utter a syllable. It took many minutes before she regained herself, eventually beginning to fidget in her chair, then got up, sat down, wondered, blessed herself and then took up fanning herself. She said, all astonishment "Good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think! Dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it really true?"
She turned her attention toward Mr. Darcy, seeking confirmation from him.
"It is indeed," he responded, "your daughter has truly made me the happiest of men."
Mamma turned back toward me, "Oh! My sweetest Lizzy! How rich and great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have. I am so pleased - so happy."
Then she turned back toward Mr. Darcy again. "You are such a charming man! So handsome! So tall! I apologize for ever having disliked you so much before. I hope you will overlook it."
"It is forgotten," said he.
"Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Everything that is charming! A daughter married! Ten thousand a year! Oh Lord! What will become of me. I shall go distracted. Pray tell, Mr. Darcy, can you do something to help my other daughters and me as well?"
"Why certainly," said he. "Should you all wish to come to Pemberley, have the dower house be your own?"
"Oh yes, yes," Mamma cried. Then she grasped us each by the hand. "You must and shall be married by a special license. Oh how I wish we could serve Mr. Darcy his favorite dish tomorrow, if only we were not so poor."
Mamma's face drooped at what she could not do for Mr. Darcy. I felt mortified at all she had said, but Mr. Darcy handled it all with aplomb, was so kind to my poor Mamma, that I thought I would come to love him sooner rather than later.
"Please do not be dismayed, Mrs. Bennet," Mr. Darcy responded. "I shall see about renting Netherfield for you and your daughters during our engagement, and I shall look forward to the meals made there at your direction. I would not have any of you worry about poverty ever again."
At this final pronouncement, she jumped up and embraced him, her eyes wet with unshed tears. She announced in a voice pitched with great emotion, "It will be good to have a son."
I felt so happy then, to see how happy my Mamma was, and to have this proof of how much my fiance was willing to do to make even her happy, just for me. I felt so much that I almost cried myself. I was certain then, that I would indeed be marrying for the deepest love, and by the time we wed a month later, it was true.
Everything indeed came to pass as Mr. Darcy predicted it would. Mr. Bingley returned and soon enough my sister was as in love with him as ever. In fact, we both married together in a joint ceremony from Netherfield with special licenses, just to please my mother. Mary blossomed after gaining appropriate instruction. Kitty took an interest in the masters hired for Mary, and soon learned many accomplishments herself.
But most surprising to me was what became of Lydia. Somehow, she caught the Colonel's eye and after his expectation became a reality, they married and went to live at his estate. Little George grew into a fine boy and then man, who was very caring towards his little brothers and sisters (there were ten in all). He became a parson while his next eldest brother inherited from his father. But George had been raised so well, or perhaps simply had an innate goodness, for he seemed to have no envy regarding what his brother had.
As for me and Mr. Darcy (or Fitz as I called him after we married), I believe we were the happiest of us all, for while Jane just smiled, I laughed. Of course it was not always easy to live near Mamma, but we regularly sent her to enjoy London, Bath and after Napoleon was defeated she even traveled to France with the Gardiners. There, to our astonishment, she met and married a French winemaker, remaining there with him, but they came to visit for several months at least every few years, making the rounds to see us all.
While we did not have as many children as Lydia did, it was not for lack of trying (for we both enjoyed the marital bed) and we had to be happy with our six, four daughters and two sons. They all had curly or wavy dark hair, just as my husband had predicted they would, in contrast to their blond and red haired Bingley cousins (of which there were only three). Fortunately, the boys did not take after me, and were tall and strong like their father. In fact two of our daughters grew taller than their Aunt Georgiana.
Fitz and I had a good life together and I felt exceedingly blessed. Over the years sometimes we wondered what would have become of us if not for Lydia's misadventure. I worried that he would have never dared to re-approach me and ask me to marry him again, had I not lost everything and been in need of a husband to rescue me, while he believed that God himself had ordained that we would marry, and it would have come about one way or another. As the years have passed, I have come to the conclusion that he is right, but I have declined to tell him that, for he would become impossibly smug.
A/N: I hope you have enjoyed this little romp. Now to get back to all my pending stories!