Checkmate, Mr Darcy Chapter 18, a pride and prejudice fanfic

Wow. I never before received so many comments to a chapter. Over 100!

Thanks.

Would you believe - I was about to publish this chapter when FF went offline. It took 26 hours for me to get access again.

~O~

Chapter 18

The clatter of hooves and the crunch of wheels on the gravel driveway in front of the house startled Elizabeth out of her moment of relief.

'You do not think that that man has come back?' Elizabeth asked worriedly but was reassured moments later when she heard a welcome voice call out.

'Anyone home?' Fitzwilliam stuck his head in the front door. When Elizabeth and Mrs Hill stepped into the hallway he smiled. 'I brought the carriage back if you are tired, or we can walk to your house if you prefer, leaving the coach here as it belongs to the estate.'

Since Elizabeth needed a soothing walk after the distress of the previous hour, she opted to walk with Richard to the Hedgerows, with Mrs Hill only a few steps behind.

As they walked out the gates of Longbourn, Richard commented, 'On the way here, I noticed a coach which looked remarkedly like Darcy's. Did he stop by to offer his condolences?'

'He did,' Elizabeth answered briefly, wondering how much she should tell Richard.

'Drat. I wanted a word with him to see if he would be available to stand up with me at our wedding.'

'If he is at the wedding, I will not be,' exclaimed Elizabeth before she could stop herself.

Fitzwilliam stopped walking and turned towards her. Searching her face for a clue, he asked carefully, 'How badly did Darcy express himself?'

Elizabeth took a deep breath to calm herself before she said, 'Mr Darcy was most eloquent but also exceedingly insulting. I have never before been so grateful for the discreet presence of Mrs Hill who chaperoned our encounter.'

Encouraged by Richard, Elizabeth related Darcy's proposition but did not mention his threat. Mrs Hill had no compunction filling in the details which Elizabeth had missed.

'That arrogant bastard,' stormed Fitzwilliam, forgetting to mind his language in his fury. 'Who the devil does he think he is, thinking he only has to crook his finger to get what he wants. Mind you, with his past I can almost understand why he would do such a thing, but making such a threat is beyond the pale.'

'I suspect that was an empty threat, uttered in the heat of the moment,' Elizabeth pointed out. 'I doubt anyone has ever rejected your cousin and he was not taking it well. The blow to his pride made him lash out. You know what they say, angry people are not wise.'

'Are you saying that you are angry at Darcy for his insulting offer, but you can forgive the threat?'

'The offer was deliberate; the threat was not.'

'I am minded getting on my horse to follow him to town and give him a good thrashing.'

Elizabeth put her hand on his arm which was tense as a bowstring. 'It will be dark soon. Perhaps tomorrow, when you have calmed down will be a better time,' Elizabeth suggested carefully. She wanted Darcy to suffer repercussions for his arrogance, but she did not want to risk Richard getting hurt by riding in the dark.

This time it was Richard who took a deep breath to calm down. 'You make a good point. My father was going to go to London the day after tomorrow. I have a feeling that he will wish to accompany me tomorrow instead.'

Richard was correct. When he and Elizabeth privately informed his parents about Darcy's actions, both the Earl and the Countess decided to accompany Richard to London to deal with Darcy.

Matlock recognised his son's fury and cautioned, 'When we confront Darcy, you must let me take the lead. I will not risk you killing him. After what he has done, he is not worth you swinging for his murder.'

Richard hesitated, but reluctantly agreed. 'You had better make it good,' he demanded.

By common agreement, they did not share the information about Darcy's proposition with anyone else.

~O~

Meanwhile, Darcy was fuming all the way back to London.

How dare Elizabeth reject him.

In truth, he had not paid a great deal of attention to the accusations she threw at him. All he remembered was that he had been soundly rejected by a country nobody. A poor country nobody without connections to anyone of relevance.

He had offered her everything and she had the nerve to say no in the most vehement manner.

She had disregarded the condescension he had shown to her and her family. She must have been demented with grief to reject his offer.

Well, he had done all he could. They could rot in the hedgerows for all he cared.

On his arrival at Darcy House, he locked himself in his study with a decanter of brandy and proceeded to get drunk.

But the look of disgust and disdain on Elizabeth's countenance intruded even on his dreams and turned them into nightmares.

~O~

Three Fitzwilliams had left Netherfield early in the morning and arrived at Matlock House, where they cleaned up and had a light meal before tackling Darcy.

They did not bother with a carriage and walked across the square where they knocked on the door of Darcy House and demanded to see Darcy.

They found him in the family sitting room, drinking coffee and nursing a severe headache.

When Richard saw Darcy, he nearly forgot his promise to his father and was about to rush over and beat his cousin to a pulp for the insult to Elizabeth. Lady Matlock recognised the fury in her son's eyes and put a restraining hand on his arm, giving him a quelling look.

Richard slowly opened his hands which he had unconsciously balled into fists. He returned his mother's look, and, giving her a small nod, forced himself to relax. He wandered over to the fire place and settled against the mantlepiece to watch his father.

'Darcy, are you out of your mind, offering a carte-blanche to a gentlewoman who has just lost her father? What sort of a brute are you?' stormed Lord Matlock the moment they had all entered the room.

'Yes, Darcy, explain yourself,' snarled Fitzwilliam.

Darcy, who was still smarting from Elizabeth's verbal rejection and Mrs Hill's physical ejection , was too startled by the attack to gather his thoughts. He did muzzily wonder how the news had reached his family.

He answered truthfully and full of rectitude. 'I just found out that Mr Bennet had died, and Mr Collins was getting ready to take possession of their estate. From some of the parson's comments, I knew he had a grudge towards the family, Miss Elizabeth in particular, and that he was going to remove the family from their home. I wanted to ensure their protection, so I offered to arrange for a comfortable cottage for the ladies.'

'While that might seem like a generous thing to do, the price you demanded was unconscionable. In return for your generosity,' Matlock's tone of voice implied anything other than generosity, 'you demanded that Miss Elizabeth become your mistress.'

'Well, you could not expect me to marry her,' huffed Darcy in his haughtiest manner and almost caused Richard to leap at him to thrash him. 'She has no wealth, no connections other than to men in trade and because of the death of her father, she does not even have the status of a lady whose father is a landed gentleman. On top of that, her mother is a loud, crass, vulgar and mercenary. Her younger sisters are wild beyond redemption. You cannot truly think that any man would want to tie himself to such a family. I was most generous in my offer.'

Listening to Darcy's justification, Richard wonder where the friend of his childhood had gone. He could barely recognise this man.

Darcy took a breath to compose himself and continue his rationalisation. He did not get a chance.

The Earl snarled, 'So, since she lost her father, you thought you could take advantage of a genteel young woman and force her into a degrading situation.'

'I was offering security to the whole family,' blustered Darcy, although his uncle's chastisement was starting to take its toll on his confidence.

This time it was Lady Matlock who spoke up. 'For a price. A true gentleman would have offered assistance without insisting on a pound of flesh.' She fiercely fought to suppress the blush when she mentioned flesh.

Matlock shook his head in disgust. 'I always knew that allowing Anne to marry your father was a mistake.' When Darcy tried to protest, Matlock held up his hand. 'That man raised you to be an arrogant, entitled snob who is even worse than Wickham, and we all know what that man is like, as he too was raised by your father. And thanks to his teaching, your sister upon whom you dote, was perfectly willing to throw propriety to the winds and elope with the son of a steward.'

Matlock raked his nephew with his eyes. 'You are the son of a gentleman, although that appellation is debatable. Yet you had the unmitigated gall to look down on the daughter of a gentleman, thinking her to be beneath you. To the point that you would only consider her as your mistress.'

Richard, who had kept a very tight rein on his fury towards Darcy, attempted nonchalance as he leaned back against the mantlepiece with his arms crossed over his chest and asked with a smirk, 'What do you think the Duke of Barrington will do to you when I tell him of your disgusting offer to Miss Elizabeth?'

'Why would the Duke care?' Darcy asked with a confused frown. His cousin did not make sense. And why would he tell the Duke about some country nobody.

Richard's smirk deepened as he said, 'Because he is her godfather.'

That piece of information caused Darcy to sit up straight, although the sudden movement caused his headache to flare. He exclaimed, 'Good heavens, why did she not say that she had those kinds of connections? I could have offered to marry her even though she is poor as a church mouse.'

'What gives you the idea that the lady is poor?' Matlock took over again, not trusting his son to contain himself.

'Everyone in Hertfordshire knows that.'

'As for her or her sisters being poor… think again. Miss Elizabeth's dowry is greater than Miss Bingley's vaunted twenty thousand.'

'WHAT? More than twenty…' Darcy stared at Matlock. 'Why would they pretend to be poor?'

'How well has it worked out for Georgiana that the amount of her dowry is well known?' Richard asked and was pleased that he had scored a hit.

The Fitzwilliams waited to let the information sink in.

'Never mind that,' the Earl said when Darcy still spluttered, but could not speak. 'But what makes you think she would have wanted to marry you, even if you had offered?'

At that question, Darcy regained some of his confidence. 'Last year while I was staying with Bingley, she was always flirting with me. Then, when we met at Rosings, she kept using her arts and allurements on me in the hope that I would offer for her.'

'I believe that we should reserve a place at Bedlam for Darcy. He is delusional,' muttered Richard but was prepared to let his father play with his fool of a cousin. After the insult he had delivered to Elizabeth, Darcy deserved to suffer. And Richard had to admit that while he was better with a sword, his father could use words to inflict much deeper wounds.

'Sorry to disappoint you, but Miss Elizabeth has had an unshakable dislike for you, ever since you called her tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt you to dance… in public. The only reason she was polite to you afterwards, was because her manners are much better than yours.'

Darcy paled as he suddenly remembered some of the things Elizabeth had said the day before. But before he could say anything, Lord Matlock continued relentlessly.

'I suspect that you were stupid enough to think that her refusal to fawn over you, and her teasing you about your flaws were declarations of undying love.'

Darcy squirmed in his seat as his uncle had perfectly described his thinking. But Elizabeth's attitude was also why Darcy had become enamoured with her. He could now see that he might have misjudged her feelings.

'But that is neither here nor there. You are too late. She is already engaged to be married.'

'You mean she was so distraught by our misunderstanding that she accepted one of the local yokels? Surely that housekeeper would not have threatened to ruin her reputation if she did not marry someone.'

'You are wrong yet again. Miss Elizabeth has been engaged for almost two weeks. Her father blessing the marriage and signing the marriage settlement was one of the last things he did. And the man she is marrying is a gentleman.'

'What gentleman would marry her unless he was aware of her real situation,' huffed Darcy.

'The son of an Earl,' Matlock hinted.

'Impossible.'

'Not at all.' Richard grinned maliciously. 'I think that Miss Elizabeth and I are very well suited.'

'WHAT? So, you kept quiet about her connections and her wealth so that you could steal the march on me.'

'Not at all,' Richard repeated. 'I asked to call on her before I knew of her connections, and I only found out about her true wealth quite recently.'

'You did not.'

Matlock interjected, 'Richard most certainly did.'

But Matlock was still not finished with his nephew. He said, 'You can only hope that the Queen does not hear of your blunder.'

Darcy was even more baffled as he asked, 'Why would the Queen care about Miss Elizabeth?'

'Because she is the Mrs George with whom Miss Elizabeth has been playing chess for the last twelve years and with whom she had tea in a private audience while she was in town.'

'The… the… Queen?' stuttered Darcy. The horrified expression was all that the Matlocks and Richard could hope for.

'That reminds me,' said Richard and walked over towards Darcy. 'Get up.'

Even though Darcy could see no reason for the request, he stood up, giving Richard a perplexed look. As soon as he was on his feet and facing his cousin, Richard punched him in the face, causing Darcy's nose to bleed and for him to fall back into his chair. 'That is for offering a carte blanche to my fiancée.' This time he did not hide the anger he had suppressed during the confrontation.

Darcy tried to surge out of his chair to retaliate, only to be pushed back by his cousin who glared at him. 'You had better stay unless you want to die.'

Darcy looked at the man who had been his best friend and recognised at last that he had lost not only Elizabeth but also Richard's friendship. He slumped back into the chair.

Lady Matlock informed her nephew, 'We have told you for years that your arrogance would be your downfall. Congratulations, you have arrived, because we are washing our hands off you.'

As they turned to leave the room, Richard looked back over his shoulder and said, 'Checkmate, Darcy.'

~O~

A/N:

To the guest who said that Darcy behaves like many a rich and entitled man. That is exactly what I thought. Especially when he lashed out in anger and makes the threat.

I did base his attitude and reactions on the original (unreformed) Darcy.

Mr Darcy, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth's feelings dreadful. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said,—

'And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.'

and

'And this,' cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room, 'is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! But, perhaps,' added he, stopping in his walk, and turning towards her, 'these offences might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections?—to congratulate myself on the hope of relations whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?'

~O~