Fitzwilliam Darcy
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
"Oh, I do apologize, Mr. Darcy, that all of my daughters were not here to greet you," Mrs. Bennet said the exact same words in a slightly different order at least five times since he and his father had come to sit in the Longbourn drawing room. A mere day after his father's arrival at Pemberley, and the man had insisted on bringing him to meet the Bennet family, and have a look at the girls, one of whom would likely become his future wife. The entire exercise was unnerving, even more so still as their arrival had been precipitated by one of the girls running off on an errand that was 'unforeseeable', so he was left with Jane Bennet (already the apple of his best friend's eye), and the two younger sisters who were out, Mary Bennet (a plain and very quiet girl of only seventeen years), and Catherine Bennet (a giddy girl of fifteen barely kept in check by her father's quelling looks). Jane gave him several pained glances, which he did not return although he wished to. For the moment that he had stepped foot in the house he had realized who the missing daughter was.
Elizabeth Bennet. From the Assembly. The one he had so grossly insulted. The one who had captivated him and who had haunted his dreams every night since with her large eyes, and slight curving figure, as well as the kiss of sun-freckles across her nose and cheeks that spoke of many walks out of doors.
She was the absent daughter, and from the noises that her cousin, one rather petulant Mr. Collins, had made, the most beautiful of the three remaining available daughters.
Mr. Darcy had rather felt like he'd walked into some sort of wife auction of sorts, or that perhaps the girls were like puppies from a highly prized litter, and there he was, jostling to get the best hound, but in this case, woman. The very nature of it, and the shrill way that Mrs. Bennet was advertising her daughters' many charms chilled him right to the bone, and when he looked at his father he was surprised to see no disgust there.
No, no, there was eagerness on his father's face, and shortly he retired to the study with Mr. Bennet to 'discuss matters', along with Mr. Collins. The three men left Mr. Darcy at the mercy of the women.
Thankfully Miss Bennet, dear Jane Bennet, was a kind soul, and took pity on him, speaking to him of all matter of things, and keeping her two sisters and mother mostly in check. He could see that far beyond the charms of her very pretty face, she was also a kind and sweet woman who knew that he must be in an uncomfortable situation and she was doing her best to alleviate that.
Things took a decided turn for the worse when Miss Elizabeth returned, out of breath and with two spots of color like blooming roses in her cheeks. He almost stumbled to get up so quickly to bow to her, his breath catching in his throat as Mrs. Bennet half-scolded her for taking so long on her 'chore'.
"I am so sorry Mamma," she said softly, while glancing at him with curious eyes.
"You do remember, my daughter, Miss Elizabeth, from the Assembly," Mrs. Bennet said in a breathy tone, obviously pleased that the girl had returned. "You did not get a chance to dance, I do not think."
"No," Darcy said, staring at Elizabeth and then breaking his gaze before it became too obvious that he was overcome by her presence and not fully able to control his faculties.
He realized there were no available seats other than the one he had been occupying so he offered it to her quickly. She swallowed and then nodded, taking the divan and sitting so stiffly that a breeze might have knocked her over had there been one in the house. She kept looking at the door that lead further into the house, with a nervous expression on her face, but she answered her mother's questions.
Miss Bennet rose from her own seat, to call for more tea, when the elder Mr. Darcy appeared at the doorway, Mr. Collins directly behind him. The shorter man's gaze alighted on Elizabeth, and without any thought to how it might appear rude, he pushed past the elder Mr. Darcy to stand in the midst of the room. The chatter fell quiet, and Mr. Darcy stared at the insipid man before glancing back at his father.
"I would request an audience with Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Collins said, and everything that had been nagging at Mr. Darcy clicked into place as he realized the reason for Miss Elizabeth's earlier errand - to evade, or postpone, such a conversation with Mr. Collins that would have her emerging from it engaged and spoken for. Catherine broke out into a peal of laughter, which was quickly silenced by Jane.
"Oh Mr. Collins, of course," Mrs. Bennet said, getting to her feet with a broad smile. "Mr. Darcy, Mr. Fitzwilliam, perhaps, would you join me- we have a beautiful looking pond in the gardens, and it is quite the fashion in London I have heard…" she said, taking up on the elder Mr. Darcy's arm.
Darcy watched Elizabeth as she sat there, her eyes wide, her family members deserting her, and she looked as if all her hope had been lost and washed away. He ached to go to her side, to stay with her, but Jane fell into step next to him, and he automatically offered her his arm. She moved with him out of the room.
"Is he-" Mr. Darcy started and then swallowed his words down. Jane looked back over her shoulder as the maid closed the door to the drawing room.
"Mr. Collins has come to choose for himself a wife among my sisters and I," Jane said, a look of hesitance and regret on her face. "I believe he means to ask for Lizzy," she continued, in her worry using the familiar nickname for her sister. Darcy ignored the misstep in propriety, for Jane was clearly nonplussed at the idea of Mr. Collins becoming a brother from whence he had been merely a cousin before.
"I see," Mr. Darcy said as he walked with her out into the gardens. "Is it… are his feelings returned, do you think? A love match, perhaps?" he forced himself to ask, not wanting to hear the truth of it, for if she was in love with that man-
"No," Jane murmured, shaking her head as Mrs. Bennet's voice carried over to them where she stood with the senior Mr. Darcy by a pond. Mr. Bennet was nowhere to be seen.
The minutes seem to draw by. Then there was a shriek behind them, and Catherine emerged, giggling maniacally and holding onto the edge of the doorframe into the house.
"Kitty," Jane hissed, to quell the young girl's laughter, for it was highly inappropriate given the company she was in.
"She has turned him down," Miss Catherine said, her eyes bright, as she clearly though it the most amusing of occurrences. "She has refused Mr. Collins! And Mamma, he is so very, very cross!"
There came a sharp intake of breath behind him, and he turned to look. Mrs. Bennet stood beside his father, pointing out some small feature of Longbourn's property, her face pale and drawn. Then with a quick excuse, she was gone, disappearing into the house, calling Elizabeth's name frantically.
Jane looked up at Darcy, her own face pale, lines of worry pulling at the corners of her eyes.
"What has she done?" Jane asked aloud, although the question was not precisely directed at him. Darcy, in that moment, having known Mr. Collins for a very brief period of time, felt that Elizabeth had rather made the right decision for herself, if not for her family.
"I think it best that we return to Netherfield, my son," the elder Darcy said as he approached the two of them. He bowed over Jane's hand, giving it a gentle kiss. "My dear Miss Bennet. It is a pleasure to see you grown, and so beautiful, just as your father had said. I hope that the events of today do not divide your family too deeply, for a refused offer sometimes can. We will leave, so as not to impose upon you further."
Mr. Darcy stared at his father, unsure of where this now-well-mannered man had come from, having displaced the crosspatch father who had been with him up until that point. There was another shriek from the house, however, and he had no further time to contemplate it as they made their excuses and left in their carriage.
As they pulled away, his father stared out the window at the Longbourn house.
"Your wife resides under that roof, my boy, although I dare say you best pick Jane Bennet. She is pretty, and sensible, and won't turn down all you have to offer," he spoke as if it was already decided, and Darcy thought it prudent not to bring up the fact that Bingley was already half in love with the girl.
They rolled towards Netherfield, and Darcy's heart sank deep in his chest. A solution to his current conundrum did not seem forthcoming.
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