To Refuse Such a Man: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (2 page)

“Perish the thought, my dearest Jane. No—I am perfectly well. I simply recalled something my mother said about her plans for your future.”

“Is it anything I ought to know before we go down to sit with the others?”

“Oh! Jane, please trust me when I say that you do not want to know what Mama has in store.”

Tomorrow cannot come soon enough,
Elizabeth thought, such was her impatience to be away from Netherfield. Whatever affection Miss Bingley may have felt for Jane was insufficient to mask her increasing disdain in having Elizabeth there, and she did not attempt to hide it. Days of being on the receiving end of the lady’s disapprobation had gone from being rather amusing to utterly tiring. Such cattiness as that which she observed in Miss Bingley was new to Elizabeth.

It all had to do with the young woman’s jealousy that Elizabeth was a competitor for Mr. Darcy’s affection.
How ridiculous!
Mr. Darcy did indeed show Elizabeth more attention than she expected since she had been there. She tore her eyes from the unread pages of her book and gazed out the window. Her mind wandered to his taunting her about desiring to dance one evening and how his reaction to her put down was met with more pleasure than offense. After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley had varied the charm by a lively Scotch air. This encouraged Mr. Darcy, whose eyes had been fixed on Elizabeth, to draw near and ask if she felt a great inclination to seize the opportunity of dancing a reel.

She knew enough about this man to know that he never danced unless he could help it. The idea that she might say yes solely for the purpose of thwarting his desire to mock her crossed her mind, but cheating him of his premeditated contempt was far more appealing. She told him as much. Concluding her speech, she said, “I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you that I do not want to dance a reel at all. Now despise me if you dare.”

“Indeed I do not dare,” he had replied.

Having rather expected to affront him, Elizabeth had been amazed at his gallantry.

His behavior today will surely confirm he was acting to discourage Miss Bingley’s attentions.
Left by themselves by the rest of the Netherfield party, they had been sitting there for half an hour and not once did he look at her.
Does he truly mean to say nothing to me—to pretend I am not in the room?

Elizabeth
thought some conversation ought to be had. She found it puzzling that a man who spent as much time as this one did looking at her could find absolutely nothing to say.

They might discuss the weather. Elizabeth was certain that, were he to apply himself, he might make even the dullest threadbare conversation tolerable.
I might ask him about the weather in Derbyshire. I am sure that it is quite unlike the weather here in Hertfordshire, especially during late autumn. On the other hand, I had better not. I can well imagine that he would consider it just the sort of thing the other women he knows would discuss—women the likes of Miss Bingley, who are always saying and doing things solely for his approbation. That would never do. The last thing I want is for Mr. Darcy to think I am the sort of woman who seeks to garner his favor. In fact, I am not at all convinced I want him thinking of me at all.

Discussion of the weather being off-limits as a means of cutting through the uncomfortable silence, she looked around the library. Bingley was right when he said that it was sparse. Her father’s library was far more substantial.
Perhaps, in time, Bingley will amend this lapse that has resulted in such a paltry state of his library—surely he has the means.
Her thoughts went to her sister.
Perhaps, when Jane is mistress, she will be the one to oversee such an endeavor.
A baffling feeling washed over her.
Yet again, I find myself thinking similarly to my mama.
She arched her brow in silent amusement.

Heaven forbid I should adopt all of Mama’s habits.
She then recalled her mother and Darcy’s verbal standoff. She felt compelled to intervene on the gentleman’s behalf before her mother said something that would be really embarrassing in front of them all and perhaps hamper Jane’s prospects. Elizabeth supposed that Mr. Darcy took such prodigious care of Mr. Bingley that one word from him would poison Bingley’s regard for all the Bennets, including Jane.
That would never ever do.

She began to think of other things she might say to draw him out.

Perhaps I ought to remark on the size of the room or the number of fine books. Then I might ask him about his favorite books.

There were any number of things they might discuss were they of a mind to do it. She then began to consider that the fitting thing to do would be to return his cool incivility with incivility of her own.
Why risk speaking to him and having him think that I actually like him?

Darcy welcomed the intelligence that the Longbourn party was soon to return to where they had come from. Elizabeth had been at Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked. Also, his unguarded attentions to her had caused Miss Bingley to be uncivil to her and to tease him more than usual.

He wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should now escape him, nothing that could elevate her with the hope of influencing his felicity. If indeed such an idea had been suggested, his behavior during that particular day would surely be the means of confirming or crushing it.

Thoughts of how the two of them had engaged in heated debates over the past several days crept into his mind. It was all he could do to keep himself from smiling. She possessed a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner making it difficult for her to affront anybody. Having at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty, he had looked at her without admiration at the Meryton assembly. When next they met, he looked at her only to criticize. However, no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good feature in her face than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing. And in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness.

I have never been so bewitched by any woman as I am by her.

Achingly aware of her, thoughts that no gentleman ought to entertain in the presence of a gentlewoman crept into his mind as he began to feel the danger of being in such proximity to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Darcy had but one purpose in being in Hertfordshire: to help his friend Charles Bingley in navigating the tricky waters of being the master of his own estate. The last thing he expected was to meet the woman whose nearness caused him to entertain ideas of what it would be like to know her as his wife.

At seven and twenty, Darcy had managed to avoid any entanglement that might give rise to an expectation of marriage. At first, it might be said that he took some comfort in the presumption that those who knew him best held that he would marry his cousin Miss Anne de Bourgh. However, when Anne herself began to entertain such notions, Darcy put an end to that by declaring to anyone who dared ask that such a union would never be. Anne took the information as well as could be expected; however the same could not be said of her mother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. The older sister of his late mother, Lady Catherine insisted that it was the favorite wish of her sister that the two young people should be married.

Anne and Darcy were fashioned for each other at birth,
she always pontificated. Even Darcy’s own words to the contrary were insufficient to douse her hopes that such a union would one day unfold. Oh, what a determined advocate Lady Catherine could be when she put her mind to it. Satisfied in the knowledge that his aunt’s wishes were not and would never be his own, Darcy simply pretended not to hear a word she spoke about his future marital prospects.

He took his responsibilities as a landlord, a master of hundreds, and an older brother and co-guardian of his younger sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy, quite seriously. Among those responsibilities was choosing the next mistress of Pemberley wisely.

The next thing he knew, the thought of how Miss Elizabeth Bennet would be received in London crossed his mind. Darcy could hardly fathom why he would be picturing Miss Elizabeth traveling in his sphere in town. Then again, there were places in town where tradesmen of means cavorted with the
ton
: the park, the shops, and the theater. He then began to wonder if, indeed, they had frequented some of the same places. Her only connection in London that he was aware of was the uncle who resided in Cheapside.
Surely if there were other, more consequential, connections, she or her mother would have said something.

Speaking of her mother, there was a woman whom he barely tolerated. His intercourse with Mrs. Bennet had been marred by contentiousness. When he rightly pointed out how the company in town was far more varied than in such a small place as Meryton, she took umbrage, insisting that they regularly dined with four and twenty families. As insignificant a number as that was compared to the Society he was referring to, he did not see how it could even be that high. Arguing with the woman was hardly something he wanted to do.
I have done quite enough of that with her beguiling daughter since her arrival.

He had gone out of his way to converse with her—which was quite uncharacteristic for a man like him. Even Miss Bingley had discerned his unguarded attention to Miss Elizabeth. He was sure that was the catalyst for her barbs and snide remarks. As flattering as it might seem, having women compete over him was not something he particularly cared for. Of course, in this case, he needed not worry at all. If Miss Elizabeth were never to show a preference for him, Miss Bingley’s estimation in his eyes would not increase one jot. She had neither the wit nor the charm of Miss Elizabeth, whose beauty Darcy was failing miserably to withstand, especially at night when her light and pleasing figure crept into his dreams.

Indeed, remaining a silent companion is the best thing to do.

Elizabeth, for her part, could not deny that the silence had its advantages, for it gave her the chance to reflect upon her time at Netherfield—more precisely, the actual reason for her being there.
It is my mother’s duty to make matches for my sisters and me. I begin to suspect that any man would do—even one as proud as Mr. Darcy.

Until this day, she expresses her grief over her inability to make a match for Jane when she had been so close.
A fine young gentleman from town who wrote Jane some lovely poetry sprang to mind. That was some time ago. Several years had passed and Mrs. Bennet continued to lament the loss of such a delightful young man as a future son-in-law. Elizabeth surmised that Mrs. Bennet would stop at nothing to see Jane become the mistress of all this. Looking about the room, she thought to herself,
Certainly no one is more deserving than Jane to be mistress of Netherfield.

As for her own prospects, Elizabeth rarely thought of such things, although she supposed she ought to make a start. With three younger sisters and all of them out, she, too, felt the burden of finding a husband. Their prospects were few and, despite Jane being reported as the most beautiful and Elizabeth being known as the jewel of the country, Elizabeth owed their diminished chances to their lack of fortune. Mr. Darcy’s harsh words resonated in her ears.

—it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world.

Had he known she was standing just outside the door that day, poised to enter the room, he likely would have kept his opinion on the matter to himself. As harsh as his dire prognostication for her marital prospects were, she could not find it in herself to be angry with him. For what would have been the point in being angry with someone who merely spoke the truth?

Another thought came to mind.
That is all the more reason that all of my family should be rejoicing in Mr. Bingley’s preference towards Jane. He is kind and handsome and amiable—or, in Jane’s own words, everything a gentleman ought to be. The fact that he is rich is more of a bonus.
Such thoughts as these increased Elizabeth’s desire to be once again by Jane’s side.

Between Darcy and Elizabeth, there was a greater sense of relief from the latter as she closed her book, laid it aside, stood and quit the room.
Neither
of them could have known that their time alone in Netherfield’s library had not gone unnoticed.

~*~

When at last the day of their long sought departure from Netherfield arrived, the liveliness of spirits she had expected to enjoy was replaced with great astonishment. Hastening her steps down the spiraling staircase, Elizabeth nearly stumbled and fell. She caught herself, but not soon enough for Mr. Bingley to remain unaffected.

“You must be careful, Miss Elizabeth, or you shall find yourself a guest at Netherfield even longer. Not that I would mind, for you and your sister are perfectly welcome to stay here as long as you like.” He must have realized how untoward he sounded. He swallowed hard and turned to his friend. “What say you, Darcy?”

His rich baritone voice determined, Darcy replied, “I am sure the ladies are eager to return to their own home, Bingley.” His words had been directed to his friend, but his eyes had been fixed on Elizabeth’s.

“Of course you are correct, my friend.” Bingley looked at Jane and smiled. “Miss Bennet.” Next, he looked at Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth. I can honestly say I have enjoyed having you ladies here as much as your family missed having you at Longbourn. I shall look forward to both of you returning for the ball.”