A/N: Alas, no compromise in this one, I'm afraid. Not only that, but it's also short and fluffy, without the gut punch of its predecessor.
In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her mother's words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible whisper; for, to her inexpressible vexation, she could perceive that the chief of it was overheard by Mr Darcy, who sat opposite to them. Her mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.
"What is Mr Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear."
"For heaven's sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be for you to offend Mr Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by so doing!"
Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her mother would talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and blushed again with shame and vexation. She could not help frequently glancing her eye at Mr Darcy, though every glance convinced her of what she dreaded; for though he was not always looking at her mother, she was convinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her. The expression of his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and steady gravity.
P&P Chapter 18
Elizabeth Bennet wished she could crawl under the table to make her escape! Escape from her mother! Escape from Mr Darcy! Escape from her inebriated sisters! Escape from Mr Collins! At the moment of ultimate embarrassment, she thought it was entirely impossible to be any more mortified.
As it turned out—she was wrong.
She had just completed one more embarrassed glance at Mr Darcy, when a hush fell over the table. Her eyes followed everyone else past the supper attendants of the Netherfield ball to see what was causing the disturbance.
Much to hear pleasure, she saw her Mr Bingley stand up nervously, glass in hand.
"Friends… neighbours… I hope you might be willing to indulge me with a toast to someone very special, momentarily."
As he turned to Jane, Mrs Bennet stepped into the breach. "OH! I knew how it would be," while Miss Bingley, showing a similar lack of decorum said, "Charles, NO!"
Not to be deterred, Mr Bingley looked earnestly at Miss Jane Bennet.
"Miss Bennet… Jane… I have fallen in love with you. Your beauty first enchanted me, and your kindness and gentle nature endeared you to me. May I hope to be granted the honour of your hand in marriage?"
Elizabeth heard Mrs Bennet say, "Oh, I shall go all distracted," while Mr Darcy stared at the nascent couple in what looked much like consternation, and Miss Bingley stared daggers at her brother while remaining mercifully silent.
As a hush fell over the room, she focused her attention on Jane and did not appear to be completely sanguine. Her sister's usual complaisance was slipping. She stared at Mr Bingley with an expression Elizabeth had never seen before (and frankly, hoped to never see again). It was some odd combination of perplexity? confusion? indecision? It took some time for Elizabeth to recognize what it really was, and she gulped.
Ever so slowly, Jane seemed to realize she was at a disadvantage sitting with him towering over her, so she raised herself up as gracefully as she did everything.
Elizabeth thought, 'Thank heavens Mama and Miss Bingley ceased their prattle,' while she stared at Jane awaiting her response.
She was as startled as everyone else when Jane's mouth moved down into a frown worthy of Mr Darcy.
"THIS is how you think a proposal should be accomplished? A PUBLIC proposal with no warning, no preparation, no real courtship, no unambiguous signal of intent!"
Elizabeth stared in shock, as did everyone else.
Mr Bingley gulped, but Jane was apparently not finished.
"Mr Bingley, do you honestly expect me to submit my future protection to a man who allows his sisters to run wild? A man who raises nary a rebuke as they constantly disparage his love interest, her sister, her family, and all the people she has spent her whole life with? Who does so gleefully and vocally in front of servants, his best friend, and her own sister without so much as a critical word?"
Mr Bingley started babbling. "But… but…"
Jane was not finished and frowned like a gorgon and held up her hand to silence him.
"Nay, I cannot trust my future to a man who cannot control his family or pay close attention while his friend tries in vain to teach him to be an estate master; nor am I willing to climb into a snake pit for life with your spinster sister, who will likely never attract a suitor."
Elizabeth hissed at the sharpness of Jane's revenge. She agreed with it, naturally, but they were the harshest words Jane had ever spoken.
Mr Bingley seemed ready to reply, but Jane cut him off with a chop of her hand that was abrupt enough to even silence Mrs Bennet.
"I am very sensible of the honour of your proposal, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than to decline. I have had my fill of indolent men!"
Elizabeth looked at Jane, expecting to see tears in her eyes, but instead encountered fury. She thought it politic to avoid her for a quarter hour, or until she understood her (which might take much longer).
Jane turned to leave the table but turned back to Mr Bingley one last time.
"I shall be at my uncle's house in Cheapside for several months should you decide to grow up. I shall not hold my breath, and I shall not wait for you."
With that, Jane turned and marched from the room regally, while pandemonium erupted. Mrs Bennet was fit to be tied, calling to the non-existent Hill for her non-existent salts, and finally swooned and fell back on the floor. Kitty and Lytia went to tend her, which seemed to Elizabeth like putting out a fire with lamp oil. Since Jane was typically in charge of Mrs Bennet, and Elizabeth wanted nothing to do with the task, she simply looked around as everyone talked at once.
She looked at Charlotte, who was shaking her head as if she had just witnessed the stupidest act of her entire life (which might have been true).
Her glance next moved to Mr Bennet, who looked like he was having the most diverting night of his life—probably even better than Mr Collins's first meal. She felt a disgust for both of her parents welling up, thinking Jane had made a very good point about indolent men and badly behaved women.
She eventually decided it was probably about time to go see to Jane.
She noticed she had stood along with everyone, and her chair was being righted by a footman as she had apparently knocked it over in the commotion.
Elizabeth startled and jumped when she thought she felt someone's breath on the back of her neck—someone who was FAR too close.
She whirled around and took a step back, fearing it was Mr Collins, and certain that being compromised after Jane's refusal would be entirely too much for one night. She was breathing rapidly when she snapped angrily at her antagonist.
"Mr Darcy!"
The man looked as chagrined as a puppy who chewed up a shoe (and Elizabeth thought his chagrin was probably just as temporary).
He moved close enough to hear him speak at just over a whisper but not enough to make her jump again. "My apologies, Miss Elizabeth. I do not wish to startle you, but also do not wish our conversation overheard."
"I doubt a cannon would be heard in this racket," she grumbled, still thoroughly disconcerted.
When he looked like he had more to say, she snapped, "You may proceed with your criticism at your leisure, sir. Let us get it over with."
He gave her a slight smile, which she had to admit made him look disconcertingly handsome—or at least it would if she had just met him.
"I fear if you expect criticism, you are due some disappointment. In fact, I offer quite the opposite. I am duly impressed! Your sister was magnificent!"
She frowned even more ferociously at what seemed an absurd amount of impertinence and decided to repay like with like.
"I suppose so. Apparently, she is newly available."
He smiled even bigger, which startled her a bit. If he could keep it up, she thought he might indeed be handsome enough to tempt Jane, if it came right down to it.
He whispered conspiratorially, "Alas, I have not the slightest interest in Miss Bennet. I have my heart set on another. I simply wanted to mention that I admire her bravery exceedingly. That cannot have been easy."
Elizabeth sighed, wondering why he was being so nice, and whether it was real or feigned.
Unable to think of a better answer, she chose brutal honesty.
"Jane and I vowed long ago to only marry for the deepest love and respect," she said, then stared him in the eye, daring him to laugh.
"Even braver," he said, making her think he would have tipped his hat if he had one.
Elizabeth sighed and shrugged morosely. "More like foolhardy. He is the only eligible gentleman to come into this county since the flood."
"The ONLY?" he asked with a smirk that incongruously reminded her of her father, who was currently in her brown books.
"The only one eligible for a Bennet, at least. We are as poor as church mice, have no connexions, no dowry, no brother, too many sisters, and an entailed estate. I suspect my cousin Collins will propose to me in the next few days, but he fails the love and respect test quite handily, so my mother will have two rejected suitors. I doubt she will ever recover, and I am certain she will never forgive me."
"But she will forgive Miss Bennet?"
"Of course… Jane cannot be so beautiful for nothing."
He frowned at her tone, and looked disapprovingly at her mother, but Elizabeth was looking around for her sister and did not notice.
"Hmmmmm …" he said, which brought her attention back.
When he had her notice, he looked over at Mr Bingley with a worried frown before answering. "I suppose if I do not wish to look poleaxed like Bingley, I should be far more careful when I make my own proposal."
"I suppose so," she said distractedly, thoroughly unconcerned about the gentleman's lady. "I should go to Jane. It was surprisingly nice to talk to you, Mr Darcy."
Much to her surprise, he asked shyly, "May I join you in case I can offer assistance."
"As you wish," she said distractedly and started walking.
As they walked, she asked, "If I am not being too impertinent, may I ask who you will make such great pains to propose to properly?"
She glanced and saw a pensive look on his face. "I am not prepared for a proposal. The lady is due several apologies and explanations before I work my way up to that."
"You need not tell me," she said nonchalantly.
"I wish to tell you."
She stopped abruptly and stared at him disconcertingly for some time before her reply.
"If you wish to unburden yourself, feel free. I shall not tell a soul. Who is this wondrous creature you wish to apologise, explain, and propose to?"
"You, of course!" he said with a huge smile that she thought might be flammable.
She stared at him, imagining she looked as poleaxed as Mr Bingley, and he boldly reached up to put his finger on her lips before she said something she might later regret.
"That was NOT a proposal… that was an answer to a question," he said gently, and she relaxed slightly.
"As I said, when I propose to you, I will do so properly and privately, and you shall know in advance what I am about. I imagine if I made a proposal off the top of my head, I would stuff it up worse than Bingley and you would hate me forever."
She stared at him a moment, and finally squeaked, "ME?"
"Yes, you."
"But… but… but… I am not handsome enough to tempt you."
He looked very chagrined. "Hence the first of several apologies and explanations. Please note though that I have asked you thrice since that first night, and only been granted one dance… and that begrudgingly."
She stared at him, standing in a sea of people who were all excitedly chattering about Jane and ignoring them. Mrs Bennet was still out of the picture (thanks for small mercies).
"May I presume that was not the actual apology?"
"Just the prelude. I have a great deal to say, but this crowd seems like the wrong place to do it."
She looked around in confusion but had to at last nod her head. This was the wrong place, and Jane had been on her own long enough.
"Are you stout enough to call on me… to court me properly… at Longbourn?"
"Naturally. Your mother reminds me of my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I will feel right at home."
She stared at him for some time, and finally laughed gaily.
"Can you redirect Mr Collins to Mary or Miss Lucas?"
"With the greatest of ease."
She stared at him for some time before finally answering.
"Very well! Do your worst, Mr Darcy!"
It took five minutes to apologise profusely and be forgiven, especially with a fully recovered Jane in attendance.
It took five hours of rather painful discussion to trade histories and explain how a man could say something so abominably rude and outline his plan for reformation.
It took five days to rid the area of the dual infestations of Mr Wickham and Miss Bingley.
It took five weeks to court properly and determine that they were in fact well-suited to each other and very much in love.
It took five seconds to propose properly when the right moment arrived right after the new year (not counting the kissing, which seems fair).
It took five months and two competing suitors for Mr Bingley to clean up his mess and get out of the doghouse with Miss Bennet enough to propose properly, be accepted, and purchase an estate very far from both London and Longbourn.
It took five years to see the remaining Bennet sisters properly educated, properly presented, and acceptably married (much to Lydia's chagrin).
It took five decades of loving attention to their families for Mr and Mrs Darcy to play out the rest of their love story and end it peacefully, surrounded by various children and grandchildren in the Pemberley dower house.
They loved and lived their lives filled with wonder that it all started with a mistimed Toast to the Bride.
~~ Finis ~~
A/N: The next will have an actual compromise… I promise.