Disclaimer: Some lines in this story can be found in either the original book by Jane Austen, or are taken from the 1995 BBC version. I make no claim to either, nor am I making any money from this story. This is my first P&P fic, so please excuse me if there are any glaring inaccuracies.
(To those readers who follow me in a different fandom, I promise I am not abandoning my WIPs. The last few months have been very difficult, and I am just glad to be able to get any of the ideas in my head down at the moment. Please bear with me, and hopefully it will not be too long before the nest chapters are up.)
Elizabeth paced back and forth in the small parlour. The information that Colonel Fitzwilliam had given her regarding the underhand manner in which Darcy had behaved towards her beloved sister was only one of the worries that had led to her being so out of sorts that she had been forced to brave Lady Catherine's displeasure at the comments of Colonel Fitzwilliam, despite having been uttered in jest, had affected her more than she could have wished. They had also led her to reconsider as well the comment that Mr Collins had made during his absurd proposal.
"...it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is so unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications…"
"... there are not many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to money."
She had not paid any attention to his assertion that she was unlikely to ever receive another offer of marriage, except to recognise the coarseness of his expression. At the time she had been far more concerned with making sure her cousin understood that at no point would she be willing to accept his proposal, and her own mortification had prevented her from dwelling over long on the details of it.
The Colonel's comments, however, had reminded her of the difficult position her family were in. If only her father had put away some money to provide dowries for his daughters, perhaps their situation would not be as dire as it was. Modest as she was, Elizabeth could not help but feel that the Colonel had shown enough of a marked preference for her company, that had she a dowry to match his expectations, he might well have made an offer for her. But, as she had once said to Jane, they had nothing but their charms to recommend them.
Yet Jane, despite being a reputed beauty, and with a sweet disposition to match, was not yet married at the age of 23, nor was there now any possibility of her being so in the near future. Charlotte, at the age of 27, had so little chance of marriage that she had been eager to encourage the attentions of a man such as Mr Collins. Elizabeth herself, though only 20, had been out for a few years, and yet the only possible suitor she had excited was her cousin, and there had been no particular interest on his part, beyond the need for a wife to comply with the bidding of Lady Catherine. There had not been a single other man who had shown any interest in her beyond the pleasure of a dance at the local assemblies.
Elizabeth's conversation with Jane only a few months ago, her determination that only the deepest love would induce her into matrimony, suddenly seemed like the starry-eyed fantasies of a child. Her complete lack of a dowry and low social standing, despite being a gentleman's daughter, was unlikely to attract many suitors. Indeed, as Mr Collins had so indelicately put, the likelihood of her ever receiving another offer of marriage was unlikely, and even if she did the likelihood that that person would be to her liking, let alone someone that she was in love with, was extremely unlikely.
The society that she was a part of in Hertfordshire was indeed as limited and unvarying as Mr Darcy had pointed out. There was a distinct lack of suitable suitors for any of the young ladies in the neighbourhood. The few young men in the immediate neighbourhood were as disinterested in her as she was in them. The advent of another gentleman, with even as much as £1000 a year, moving into the neighbourhood was unlikely. The entail on Longbourn, which would pass to Mr Collins after her father's death, did not provide for any remaining daughters, or a surviving spouse. And indeed, knowing Mr Collins' character, Elizabeth thought it was extremely unlikely that he would be prevailed upon to assist the Bennett family in the event of him becoming master of Longbourn.
Elizabeth heartily despised the idea that Mr Collins, in all his self-righteous arrogance was so correct. If only Mr Darcy hadn't interfered between her sister and Mr Bingley, circumstances might have been very different. Having at least one of her sisters well-married would have at least provided some security for the rest. Having felt herself in love for the first time at the age of 23, Jane was now clearly struggling to get over her disappointment. Though she had made an effort to appear cheerful, both in person and through her letters, Elizabeth could see how deeply she had been affected.
Of course, their mama would be more than happy to throw Jane at the next eligible gentleman that entered the neighbourhood, whatever Jane's own feelings might be. Mr Bingley would be forgot, except for the occasional complaint that he had used her daughter very ill. Elizabeth knew that Jane would never protest any match if she knew it would help her family, and she worried that such a circumstance would lead only to pain for her gentle sister, whose heart was unlikely to be easily touched again, at least to the same degree. She could not bear to see Jane forced into a marriage where she did not love her partner. Elizabeth knew that her own disposition was far more suited to bear a marriage of convenience, as she was far more capable to find pleasure in any situation.
Elizabeth's behaviour in company up until now had not been designed to attract a husband, as she had not yet met anyone who she had felt in the slightest bit inclined towards. She would have to remedy that immediately. She knew she could not hope for anything like Jane's good fortune in attracting the attention of a gentleman with the income of Mr Bingley, but she could hope to find someone who would take her for the small allowance she would have, as well as the promise of her share upon her mother's death. At least then she would no longer be a burden on her family, and hopefully might even be able to help them a little.
With all these thoughts running wildly through her mind, Elizabeth was therefore surprised by the sound of the door bell, and for a moment she wondered if Colonel Fitwilliam had come to enquire after her.
This idea was soon banished, when to her utter amazement, she saw Mr Darcy walk into the room. His hurried enquiries after her health were answered with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up, walked around the room. She was surprised, but said not a word. Eventually he came towards her in an agitated manner and began to speak.
"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. In declaring myself thus I am fully aware that I will be going expressly against the wishes of my family, my friends, and I hardly need add, my own better judgement.
"The relative situation of our families is such that any alliance between us must be regarded as a highly reprehensible connection. Indeed as a rational man I cannot but regard it as such myself. But it cannot be helped.
"Almost from the earliest moments of our acquaintance I have come to feel for you... a passionate admiration and regard, which despite all my struggles has overcome every rational objection, and I beg you most fervently to relieve my suffering and consent to be my wife."
Elizabeth rose from her chair, and turned towards the window, needing a few moments to control her feelings before forming a reply. What were the chances of such a proposal happening so quickly after her recent resolution? She knew what her answer must be, despite his professed sense of her inferiority and degradation which he must attach to a possible alliance with her. She could see that he had no doubt of a favourable answer, which angered her almost as much as his judgements on her family connections.
However, despite her feelings against him she could not be insensible to the compliment of such a man's affections. A more eligible match for her in terms of fortune and position would surely never be found, although it could barely have been someone she disliked more. Nor was there a man who she'd thought more unlikely to have asked for her hand. Her astonishment was great, as she recollected the way he had behaved towards her back in Hertfordshire, and more recently in Kent. The long looks he had given her, which she had been so sure indicated his disapproval, she could now attribute a different meaning to.
Jane - she was another consideration in this. Surely any alliance between herself and Mr Darcy could only be of benefit to her sister. The intimacy between the Bingleys and the Darcys, and therefore herself, if they were wedded, would surely bring Mrr Bingley and Jane back into each other's company. Elizabeth was sure that if given time together, there was as good a chance of them being as in love as they had been before the Bingley's had removed from Netherfield.
Indeed, once Bingley learned about Darcy and her own engagement, might he not be persuaded to follow in Darcy's footsteps, rather than his recommendations. Surely if the friend who had warned him against typing himself to such a family, entered into it himself, there could be no objection for Bingley to do the same.
All these, and other considerations, dashed quickly through Elizabeth's mind, and presently she became aware that the gentleman was still waiting patiently for her answer. Schooling her face she prepared to moderate her tone so that it did not contain either any eagerness which might mislead him, nor reflect any of those uncharitable feelings towards the gentleman in question.
Elizabeth turned to face him.
"In such cases as these, it is, I believe, the established mode is to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned.
"I accept your proposal. I will be your wife."