Authors Note: All credit must go to Miss Jane Austen, CNTL-C/CNTL-V and all the Fiction/Fan-Fiction writers out there tweaking the tropes of romance fiction to write more stories. If you have read Pride and Prejudice (and if you haven't read it or seen any of the adaptations, why are you here?) you will recognize many of the passages contained in this little ditty. I have taken a great deal of license and given them to characters or places as I see fit. The 'inside' joke of this piece is to give a good variation of our heroes' journey, but blow the tropes away – not all the tropes. There will be a happily ever after but it may take some pages to get there. Sometimes the characters are slightly out of cannon – but it was meant in good fun. Please enjoy.
The Colors of Trope
Chapter One – Miss Communication
"In vain I have struggled. It will not do." Darcy declared. "My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."
Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, colored, doubted, and was silent.
Encouraged, he pressed on. "Almost from the earliest moments of our acquaintance, I have come to feel for you a passionate admiration and regard. 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."
Elizabeth shifted her gaze as not to look at him. The utter arrogance of this man!
"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 is as such myself, but it cannot be helped. Despite all my struggles, I have finally overcome every rational objection, and I beg you, most fervently, to relieve my suffering and consent to be my wife." Darcy straighten his back to stand as tall as possible, he knew he looked good that way, anticipating her acceptance.
She fought to speak with composure. How should – indeed, how could - she respond with any measure of self-control to that vomit of offense with a proposal of marriage placed on top like a cherry?
"No," she said evenly. She walked away keeping her back to him. Her face was hot and she was seething mad.
"No?" he snapped back incredulously. He paused to see if she would speak again, but when it appeared that she had no intention on elaborating he went on. "And that is all the reply to which I am to have the honor of receiving! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavor at civility, I am thus rejected."
"Civility?" She turned to him, fixing her eyes on his and mirrored his tall and straight posture. "You have the audacity to speak to me of civility?! I understand that the established mode is to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed. But why would I? I am not obliged to you. I have no responsibility for your feelings or struggles. I most assuredly didn't excite them in anyway and you certainly didn't make any effort to excite mine. As for the proposal itself … with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you like me – nay love me – against your will, your reason and even against your character? Was that not some excuse for incivility if I was UNCIVIL?"
"I am not ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just."
"You are most assuredly ashamed of your feelings for me?" She added under her breath, "though how you ever came to them is beyond me."
He ignored her remarks. "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? Should I have 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. Would that have netted me a more favorable reply?"
"Do not flatter yourself, Mr. Darcy. I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. From our very beginning – from the first moment, I may almost say – of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressed me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others. I had not known you a month before I felt you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry."
"Enough," he barked.
She went on, unchecked. "No. You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than it has spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner."
Darcy visibly started at that accusation. He stepped back as if he had been slapped and sat down in the chair farthest away from Elizabeth. He sat still for a long moment. Shaken.
"Mr. Dracy?"
"No, No, no." He looked around. "You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for taking up so much of your time." He looked around for his hat and walking stick but did not see them. He attempted to stand, but could not find his strength.
"Mr. Darcy, can I get you something? Tea? Something stronger?"
He nodded slowly and leaned back in his chair trying to get control of his breathing.
Elizabeth left the room to find a servant to bring tea and some brandy. When she returned he was standing by the window with his back to the room. She attended to the tea and poured him a glass of brandy. She called to him to join her at the table. He took the glass from her and drained it before he sat down.
She thought she should speak. "A truth – universally acknowledged. I thought it was a joke."
"Excuse me?"
"I heard somewhere that a young man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. I thought it was just something that the mothers of marriageable daughters would tell themselves as they threw their girls at suspecting men."
"The marriage mart is very real," he commented. "It is often the only occupation for mothers. Further it is very lucrative for drapers and the like in town. Some men enjoy the parade and attention from so many mothers and daughters."
"You do not?"
"No – until I met you, I was avoiding all that. You see, I am male and can marry when I like. When I am forty, fifty, or sixty, society will still allow me to take a bride of eighteen and produce an heir." He looked away. "It is very distasteful."
"On that we agree," she said handing him his tea cup. "Marriage was never my object. Granted it is the only acceptable provision for well–educated young women of small fortune. Or even young women less well-educated with a very small fortune and low connections. But from the time I could think, I was determined that nothing but the very deepest love would induce me into matrimony." She took a deep breath and sighed. "So, I expected to end an old maid, and would teach my sisters' children to embroider cushions and play their instruments very ill."
He smiled slightly. "How did you come to that – expectancy for yourself?"
"As you know my father's estate is entailed away from the female line. I have always known that we have little more than our charms to recommend us, so marriage would be our lot. We are a gentleman's daughter so we each expected something comfortable but not too lofty – a clergy man, perhaps. For me however, the example set by my parents did not endear me to the marriage state. Theirs is … not agreeable to my tastes. Maybe I read too many novels." She shrugged.
"You are so set on marrying for love, that me and all my consequence and wealth was not enough."
She laughed. "Should you really like to discuss this … frankly?"
"Forgive my arrogance, but I did not expect a refusal. In fact I thought you were hoping for my a – maybe not out of love, but … well you must own … I am rich and would set you up nicely in life. There are few women in England who would refuse such an offer and love would never enter in the decision."
"Yes, you would think that. But I submit, you have not thought about it from my perspective. Not really. And honestly, would you want a woman who only married you for your money?"
"That has been the expectation my whole life. My goal was to find a woman I could like, and … you exceeded that expectation for me."
"So you like me now?" She shrugged. "Interesting. Well then, I am sorry for us both." He leaned back in the chair and waited for her to speak. "I will offend you, but if it must be done." He nodded. "You say you have ardent feelings for me and have gone so far as to describe them as love. When, Mr. Darcy? How could you form such feelings? When in company we barely speak. I know you have observed me on several occasions, but your observations are just that - YOUR observations … impressions of me colored by your experiences in life – which were not always bent to my favor. You must own." He nodded and was about to reply but she went on too quickly. "Have you tested any of these conclusions? You say you have seen me offer opinions that are not my own. The sheer presumption of that statement is ludicrous. Should you have rather said that you have heard me offer options that are not YOUR own. What actual good do you know of me? What do you know of me at all?" Darcy was stunned to silence. "I suggest that you do not know me. And if you take your ardor out of the equation you will agree."
"I do not agree."
"Wasn't it you at the ball at Netherfield when we danced, who suggested that I should not attempt to sketch your character as there was reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either side. I assume you meant that neither you as the subject nor I as the artist were acting without some prejudice -if you will - with regard to the other. If this is true, then your observations of me were created under that shadow. Neither of us were showing or acting to our own best advantage. I did not accept that at the time, but will grant you that I had a severe dislike of you that must have colored my thoughts and actions."
"It was not merely a wish that formed my opinion. My opinions and observations are not as cloistered as yours. I am a man of sense and education who has lived in the world -."
"What presumption! That only proves that you can form opinions but those opinions are not based on facts – rather only on what you interpret the facts to be. You have no idea what my opinions are or are not. For example, I assume you made me the offer with the anticipation that I would accept gratefully. You thought that I was even expecting your offer? Why would I be? Why should you think I was? I was told you were to marry your cousin by reliable sources. Even though my observation was that there did not seem to be any affection between you and Miss de Bourgh, but how was I to know differently? And Miss Bingley has been constant in her information about the type of woman who appeals to you – and that is not me. I could have assumed that was her agenda, but I had no facts from you to dissuade me of that opinion. You have shown me no special attention. You don't speak to me. Only recently. when we meet in the park accidentally, you do turn and walk with me, but you rarely open your lips and when you do you ask cryptic questions. When and where would I have had my expectations excited by your notice? Am I to presume that you observing me, even if I had been aware, that your observations tended toward affection, ardent love? They could just as easily been to find fault as you did when we first met."
"I see that we have misread each other -."
"From the very start I suspect when I was barely tolerable in your eyes and not handsome enough to tempt you. And you could not give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men."
He blushed a deep shade of red. "You heard all that?" He was deeply embarrassed.
"I think the whole village of Meryton head that – if not first hand, then second or third. You are less than discrete when it comes to the disdainful feelings you have toward people you deem of lesser consequence – in particular my family. Why you needed to say them out loud still confounds me. You are a guest in our neighborhood. Get in your coach and drive away if you are so offended."
"You must own that your family is …"
"Our total lack of connections, yes, I know. What a degradation it must have been for you to take dinner with such low people."
He decided on another tact. "I am sorry you heard my comments at the Assembly at Meryton. They were not personal."
"They felt very personal."
"I can see that you would feel that way." He paused. "I am more sorry I said them, as they were not true at the time, nor have they been true for many months. I think you one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance and clearly – based on my declaration of earlier – you do tempt me."
"The time for flattery is over, Mr. Darcy. If you did not mean it, why did you say it?"
"I was out of temper that night before attending the assembly. I was determined not to be pleased. I acted and spoke from that attitude."
"And the world needs to suffer your attitude?" He didn't reply. "Charlotte, Mrs. Collins, believes you have a right to be proud given your circumstance in life, but I give you no such deference. I could have easily forgiven your pride if you had not mortified mine."
He considered for a long moment. "I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice if not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son, I was spoilt by my parents who allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world, at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own."
"Then why would you ask me – a poor, unsophisticated, uneducated, penniless country girl with a lowly connected family to marry you if that was your guiding principle? I am so far out of your sphere … how … why would you even notice me?"
"You are a woman who is to be noticed," he said simply.
"That is not my experience. Most men ignore me or avoid me."
"You are too smart for them, and as Lady Catherine has observed, you give your opinion very decidedly."
"That attracts you?"
"The liveliness of your mind does."
"Ha. You are just sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention. I am so unlike the women of your society you could not help but notice me." She cocked her head and looked at him. "How soon would you tire of my impertinence? My lively mind. My pert opinions. How quickly would that novelty have grown stale when I did not live up to your societies expectations? How soon would you regret your choice of wife?"
He considered. "I had hoped that my ardent love would develop into a deep and abiding love with shared experiences."
"Shared experiences? Like talking and listening and getting to know one another?" He nodded and smiled sadly. "What of my feelings? Did you consider what my feelings were at all?"
"You will call me arrogant again, but I assumed the same."
"Or was it that you did not care as I was the object of your attention, not a full-fledged living and breathing person with feelings, wants and desires of my own. As your wife I would be your possession, your chattel. I would be compelled to vow to honor and obey. Elizabeth Bennet would disappear – along with her lively mind, pert opinions and all the other characteristics that caused you to notice her - me."
He shrugged a nod. "It is the established expectation in society that the wife becomes part of the man. That she becomes his after marriage. They become one, and that one is him."
"Precisely. Now I can see why all women are desirous to enter the marriage state," she said sarcastically. "Hostesses, whores and breeders. To be totally at the will of the master with no control or say in their lives."
He winced. "I have known many men who have treated their wives with very little regard. I would hope that I am not one of them."
"How would I know that?"
He shook his head. "You would not, based on my past, present and your expectations of my future actions. But you do not know me either."
"That is the crux of the problem – we do not know each other and what we do know we do not like."
"I will not accept that – though I grow to understand your dislike of me."
"You love the idea of me that you have created in your head based on very biased observations of my very biased actions. That is not any kind of love that I have been witness to – or want to be a party to. Do you?"
"But what is the alternative for a gently born female with very little money? You were not educated formally so you cannot be a governess. You could be a companion to an elderly widow, but would not enjoy the same level of respect as a wife. You could live with a sister who married but there is little expectation that any of the Bennet ladies will make a good match. Certainly not as good as Mrs. Darcy. Maybe it is your lot to be the one to elevate the family's consequence."
"Arrogant much?" She shook her head. "Mr. Bingley was an excellent option and Jane and he would have made a great match, but you put a stop to that, did you not?"
"Yes, Fitzwilliam told me of your conversation. I did take pains to separate them and have not learned to condemn my actions as yet."
"Well, here is hoping that you are not friends with the next young single man of large fortune who moves into the neighborhood." She laughed. "I vowed when I was young that nothing but the deepest love would induce me into marriage – so I will end up a spinster."
"Such low expectations – when you have this opportunity before you?"
"You are suggesting that I should have accepted your proposal just for the sake of being married, being rich and affording my family – a family you condemn – an opportunity to raise their station in life? Would you have risen their consequence or would I have had to give them up. I ask again, that is the wife you want?"
"Are you quite certain that your feelings for me could never alter? Maybe you cannot image love currently, but esteem, respect … tolerance?"
"From my experience with you – no, I do not. Do I think there is more to you – up until a hour ago I would have said no. Now I am almost willing to grant that there is more – a lot more – but am not convinced it will change my opinion … and not enough to make a marriage."
"If you married me, you would have security, your family would be secure from … what did your mother say … being turned out of the house? Which is not to say that they would live with us, but with money comes solutions to problems. You would have wealth, opportunity, the ability to affect change in the neighborhood of Derbyshire. You would have employment in the running of Pemberley and London houses. You would have servants at your beck and call, fashion, jewels, travel." He laughed slightly. "Being rich is very pleasant. There is no guarantee that another offer will be made to you – even a love match – how would you live? I suspect that a better offer could not be made – yes that is arrogant, but also true. And should the worst happen and your father dies, you and all your family would be at the mercy of Mr. Collins. A fate I wish on no one."
"You paint an dark picture – terrifying, but that is all at the will of … well, not to put too fine a point on it, you. Again I must ask, what happens when you tire of me and my impertinence? Will I still have the latitude to help my family, or effect change, or run the household? Would you replace me with a series of mistresses? Would I be banished to some forgotten property? Would you divorce me if I was unable to produce an heir – my mother did not, so it is not an unreasonable question. You see there are so many ways my future with you could be worse than living in the hedgerows."
He poured them each a glass of brandy. "These are questions I have not considered. How can I know the future? How can I know how our lives will change? I was fifteen when I lost my mother, three and twenty when my father died. I have been wealthy all my life and trained to increase that wealth, but we are all two bad seasons from poverty." He shrugged. "Relative poverty. I do not know how I will feel about you in a year or five or ten, it will depend on you and me and how we grow and learn from each other." He laughed. "You could turn into your mother … I suspect not … but it is possible and I would not want to be a companion to a woman like that." He got serious again. "I saw the strain on my parents relationship after the number of children that my mother lost and her declining health. My father loved my mother dearly but it did not prevent him from taking a maid in the back halls of Pemberley or keeping an actress in town. But I have always honored the promises I have made in life. I know others have not, and feel justified in that, but I believe that I will be true."
"So marriage is just as much a leap of faith for you as it is for me – you could be doomed to a miserable life."
He nodded. "It is – and I hope not. That is not my intention. I believed, still believe that we could have a happy life."
"So you do not feel that your ardent feelings are just lust and will fade the morning after the wedding night?"
"No!" he was appalled at the question. "What are you suggesting?"
"That you want me because you denied yourself – and once you give into that denial, you will discover that we are just too far apart educationally, societally, personally."
He stood and moved to the door. "As usual you have given me a great deal to think on." He put his hand on the handle but did not open it. "I am not rescinding my offer and if you choose to accept me, I will honor that."
"You are all about honor and duty."
"I am, and that is not a fault no matter what you say. But I will consider your words." He opened the door and then closed it again firmly. "I am accepting your no, for the present but would beg you to allow me the opportunity to … what? Might we attempt to talk. To get to know each other better. I suspect that you have many ideas about me that are not exactly correct and with a little more context you will gain a better understanding such that your opinion of me might change for the better. As for me, I would like to get to know you openly – without all the misunderstandings and assumptions."
She laughed. "If nothing else, Mr. Darcy, I believe our association has turned a corner today. Should we continue to find ourselves in company, I feel that we cannot help but know each other with more honesty."
"So we have put our pride and prejudices aside in an effort to be … honest. With ourselves as with each other."
"Agreed. It is a possibility, that we might find that I still don't like you and your attraction to me is a thin inclination that will fade with more exposure."
"And if we do, I suspect we will be grateful that you did not readily accept my offer. On the other hand, I would not want to think of you living in the world thinking ill of me. And would like the opportunity to show you that I am deserving of your good opinion."
"I will allow that."
"You do realize that we might find that we have more in common that we at first thought – and that someday you could see yourself as Mrs. Darcy."
"Let us not get ahead of ourselves."
"Thank you for your time, Miss Bennet."
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy for your … attention."
Rosing
Fitzwilliam was smoking a cigar in the garden as Darcy approached. "I expected you to have more spring in your step, cousin."
"As did I."
"You were gone for a long time for a refusal."
"You have no idea."
"So she did refuse you, I am shocked."
"Your disclosure of the assistance I rendered Bingley last November was not helpful. Did you not realize that the young lady's family as pertains Bingley was the very same family as Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
"How would I have known that?
"I have been penalized enough this evening about my poor communications skills."
"So were you there all this time, or did you storm out and walk in the park?"
"We talked … a great deal."
"And?"
"She doesn't know me but what she does know she doesn't like – like is a very generous term. She said that I was the last man in the world that she would ever be prevailed upon to marry."
"Oh … how did that sit with you."
Darcy looked back to where the cottage was. "I didn't believe it – call me arrogant if you must."
"You again think she is spouting opinions that are not her own."
"No, no … It is clearly her opinion, but she doesn't know me well enough to hate me with such vehemence." He shrugged. "Further, she suggested that I could not possibly love her with the little I know of her."
"Is she wrong?"
"Not wrong entirely, but she has a point that needs to be considered."
"So she doesn't know you but hates you and you don't know her but love her - and they say opposites don't attract." He clapped Darcy on the shoulder. "This sounds like it was a pretty frank discussion – the kind of discussion you typically avoid."
"She said something that – well, it hit me to the core."
"And that was."
"She said I was – well that my proposal was ungentlemanly."
"I think she knows you better than she thinks she does. That had to hit at the core of you."
"It did."
"Did she mean it to be such a fatal blow?"
"I cannot answer that, but to own the truth – she was not entirely incorrect. I shared with her the struggles I over came to bring myself to make her the offer. I was proud of my ability to put aside all the -"
He laughed. "You do not know women at all do you?"
"She spins my head around." He looked over at Fitzwilliam. "Name any other woman in England that would have turned me down even if she loathed the ground I walked on?"
"Should have asked one of them."
"I will win her, Fitz."
"She is not a prize to be won, Darcy, my man. She is a woman – young and inexperienced in the world – but can you image how she would blossom and grow with the advantages you could give her. Are you sure you can handle her?"
"I have no other option but to try … and frankly I cannot walk away and leave her to a fate that will destroy her. I could not image seeing the liveliness in her eyes be beaten down by life."
"You have your work cut out for you."
"I am up to the task – I hope."
Hunsford
"Was that Mr. Darcy leaving?," Charlotte asked. "Was he here with you the whole time? He was missed at tea." Elizabeth didn't answer. "How is your headache?"
"I hardly know … I will take a walk in the garden before I turn in. Good night, dear Charlotte."
"Lizzie," Charlotte called to her. "Lady Catherine is determined to have Darcy as a son-in-law."
"I am not sure that Lady Catherine has a choice in the matter."
"She will not like that."
"She will not."