Prologue
“In vain have I 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.” Fitzwilliam Darcy stated with more emotion than was his want.
Elizabeth Bennet was shocked beyond belief, her astonishment beyond expression. ‘He loves me? How could this man love me and at the same time behave as he has toward me and my dear family? He has insulted my looks, treated everyone in my family and me with disdain, and has hurt a most beloved sister?’ He considered her silence sufficient encouragement, not interpreting her expression as one of horror. Darcy finally gave into his pent-up ardour, and what he had long felt for her immediately followed. He spoke well, but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed, and he was no more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than he was of pride.
“My family will see an alliance with you as a degradation; your position is vastly inferior to that of my own. Your connections and fortune are nothing to those that I have, you have an uncle who is a country solicitor and another who is in trade and lives in Cheapside. The behaviour of your family, your mother and two younger sisters, is abhorrent, and sometimes even your father’s behaviour is questionable. From this I must exempt you and your sisters Miss Bennet and Miss Mary, for your behaviour is above reproach.”
Lizzy was flabbergasted. He seemed ignorant of the consequences of his words and how much he was wounding her, which was, of course, doing nothing to recommend his suit. ‘Hateful, proud, and arrogant man! This is what he considers a proposal of marriage, to degrade those I love? Yes, I recognise that my family may not always behave within the bounds of propriety, but has he turned the same critical eye on his Aunt and how she behaves? And he mentions fortune; if only he knew the truth, he would not judge half so harshly, as money always makes people look the other way.’
Despite her deeply-rooted dislike, she recognised the complement of such a man’s affection, and though her intentions were not for an instant swayed, she was initially a little sorry for the pain he was about to receive. Lizzy’s ire and resentment for the language he had used to describe her beloved family relieved her of any compassion she may have felt in anger. She did try to compose herself to answer him with patience, but he was not yet finished with this painful, even cruel proposal. He concluded with representing to her the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all his endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer as much as he wished otherwise; expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of his hand. “All of this I have struggled with, but I still ask you to be my wife.” He concluded.
Lizzy could easily see that he was in no doubt of a favourable answer. He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed his expectation that her reply would be positive. When he ceased speaking, he could only be satisfied at the colour in her cheeks, interpreting it as he wanted to.
Elizabeth fought to keep herself under better regulation than Mr Darcy as she finally collected herself to reply. ‘Does this arrogant, haughty and hypocritical man think that the worst proposal in the history of proposals will sway me to his side? And I thought him intelligent at least given his other faults!’ She thought before she started to answer.
“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot; I have never sought or desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope on your side it will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation.” Elizabeth offered, relieved she was able to offer so much civility when he had given so little.
Mr Darcy, who was leaning against the mantel-piece 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 and disbelief was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure and would not offer a reply until he believed himself to be under good regulation. The pause was, to Elizabeth, dreadful.
‘Is she out of her senses to reject my proposals, the best offer, maybe the only offer she will ever get, perhaps she is not as clever as I thought her?’ He told himself in utter disbelief.
“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.” He retorted at length in a voice of forced calmness, but infused with all of the arrogance and disdain she expected from him.
“And I might as well enquire,” replied a now incensed Elizabeth Bennet, “why, with so evident a design of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? I find it a quandary that you would propose to one who is ‘not handsome enough to tempt’ you! Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my own feelings decided against you, had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think thatanyconsideration would tempt me to accept the man, who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?” Elizabeth demanded, her breast heaving with her anger for his hurtful actions.
On hearing these words Mr Darcy’s pallor changed, shocked she seemed to know what he had done. ‘H-h-how can she know? Wait did she say I ruined her happiness? No, I ruined her aspirations toward Bingley’s fortune!’ But the reaction was for but a short duration, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued. “I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You dare not, you cannot deny that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other, of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind. Your actions were instrumental inbreaking my sister’s heart!” She accused passionately then she paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity.
“Can you deny that you have done it?” she demanded. There was silence. For Elizabeth, it seemed to stretch, long, and pregnant with anger and expectation. For Darcy, it was but a second, caught as he was in the whirlwind of his thoughts, attempting to understand where he had erred.
‘Does she not see the honour that I am bestowing upon her? She who has no connections, prospects, or wealth should be demure and appreciative, not, not…Was I correct before? Is she rejecting me?Andhow does she know about my role in separating her sister and Bingley? Could it be true that her sister was in love with Bingley? How is it that I saw no such regard?’ He thought as with forced equanimity, not understanding that he was sinking further in her estimation. “I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself.” He replied at long last.
‘You rejoice in breaking my cherished sister’s heart? How can you proclaim love to someone while you hurt one, they love dearly so very deeply and you rejoice in your success? Hateful Man!’ She asked herself as her frustration deepened upon noticing this civil reflection, but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to placate her.
“But it is not merely in this affair,” she continued, “that my deep-rooted dislike is founded. Long before it had taken place my opinion of you was decided. Your slight at the assembly was the first of many incidents upon which the foundation was laid. To make such disparaging remarks of a woman you would not deign to be introduced to was but a stroke in the illustration of your character. A more complete sketch was compiled with the recital which I received many months ago from Mr Wickham on how you destroyed his prospects. On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself, or under what misrepresentation of it can you here impose upon others?”
“You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns!” Darcy retorted in a less tranquil tone; his colour now heightened. ‘Slight? No! She heard me dispatch Bingley that night. That was not aimed at her, it was to make him leave me be!’
“Why would Inottake an interest in hisconcerns?Who that has been told of his misfortunes cannot help feeling an interest in him?” Elizabeth challenged.
Darcy felt his heart sink. It simply was not possible that the woman he loved - his Elizabeth - could hold a tendre for that scoundrel. Darcy despaired. “His misfortunes! Yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed.” Darcy replied contemptuously.
‘He is such a hateful, disdainful, haughty and arrogant man! How he revels in hurting others.’ “His misfortunes are at your hand,” cried Elizabeth with energy, “by your cruel and capricious actions, you have reduced him to his present state of poverty. You have withheld the advantages which you know to have been designed for him by your own father, his godfather, no less. He has been deprived of the best years of his life, of that independence which was his due by your own father’s wishes.Youhave done all this, yet you revel in the mention of his misfortunes with contempt and ridicule.” She hurled her words at him, anger making her cheeks a beautifully heightened shade, as all deep emotions do. Darcy ached to take her in his arms and unleash his passion which he was desperate to share with her.
When he refocused on her eyes, it was as if he was doused with ice water. Shehated him? How can this be? The playful banter, the way she casually informed him of her daily walks. It hit him; she had not been encouraging him. She had been warning him. In that new light, her telling him made too much sense and he was as angry with himself as he was with her. “And this,” he seemed to want to intimidate her 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,” he added, stopping mid step and staring at her from a mere foot away seeing that she was in no way cowed by him, “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 of attaching myself to you. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I 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?” he demanded.
Darcy did not seem to understand that every attempt to intimidate Elizabeth Bennet made her courage rise!Elizabeth railed inwardly as she felt herself growing ever angrier, yet she made every attempt to reply with composure. “You are mistaken, Mr Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration to one who is not tolerable enough to tempt you affected me in any other way than as in sparing me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.” She saw him start at this but he said nothing. “You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it. Do you think that I would ever accept one who behaves toward others as you do?”
His astonishment was obvious, and he looked at her with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification.
“From the 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 of the feelings of others. To insult a lady whom you had never met, who had never done anything to earn your disapprobation in such a callous manner. That and your behaviour to all of my friends and neighbours that night was such as to form the ground-work of my deep and abiding disapprobation. All further instances and events have built so immoveable a dislike; I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry.” She replied with righteous indignation.
‘She does hate me! How did I misread the situation so badly? I was certain I understood the situation, but maybe her sister…NO! It cannot be so!’ He disregarded her assertions. “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 having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”
And with these words, he hastily left the room. Elizabeth heard him the next moment open the front door and quit the house. ‘I would venture that no one has ever called him to account for his reprehensible behaviour before. Maybe I should have controlled my temper, but the gall of that man! To think that I would ever accept one such as he? I would sooner have married Collins than him!’ With these last vengeful thoughts, Lizzy took herself to bed. She had no desire to see the Hunsford party when they returned from Rosings Park.
Darcy walked back to Rosings Park but not really seeing where he was going. He was in shock, trying to process the accusations and words that she had hurled at him. ‘How could a country miss so far below me in consequence dare to treat me thusly? I am Fitzwilliam Alexander George Darcy of Pemberley! Am I to be dismissed in this callous way when she is so wrong in her accusations? I must defend myself; I will explain my reasons and at least she will know she was wrong in her assumptions and likely regret her response this day. I will write her a letter and put it in her hands on the morrow when she walks in the morning.’ His course of action determined; Darcy paid more attention to his hurt than what she had said.
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