Section I, Next Section
Posted on Monday, 26-Oct-98
Groundhog Day!In which Mr. Darcy has to live the same day over and over until he gets it right.
Fitzwilliam Darcy awoke with a yawn as his valet, Jenkins, bustled into the room.
"Good morning, sir," said Jenkins. "Is it not a fine day? Will you be wanting the green coat or the black one this morning?"
"Urgghhh…" said Fitzwilliam, still not entirely awake.
Jenkins pulled open the curtains and sunlight streamed into the room. Darcy hid his head under the pillow at first, then realised the futility of that and got up.
"I'll wear the black coat today, thank you Jenkins," he said, and got dressed.
He went down to breakfast a little later than usual, as the night had been spent sleepless after the dinner party the previous evening. Try as he might, he had not been able to get images of Miss Elizabeth Bennet out of his head. He usually slept well at Rosings, as sleep was the only respite from his aunt's nagging voice, but for some reason this visit had not been as restful as usual. He would toss and turn, with disturbing thoughts running through his head. He was afraid he was well on the way of falling into the same trap as his friend Bingley had a few months earlier.
'At least,' thought Darcy, 'I was there to save him. But who will rescue me from my folly?'
He sat down at the table opposite his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was heartily tucking into some kidneys and tomatoes. Darcy shuddered and sipped some tea. The Colonel noticed something was amiss.
"Darcy, you are unwell?" he asked.
"No, no, I am quite well," replied Darcy.
"To be sure, I have never known you to refuse a hot breakfast before. What's gotten into you, man?"
"Fitzwilliam, may I tell you something in the strictest confidence?" Darcy asked his cousin absent-mindedly.
"But of course, what troubles you?"
"Last summer, I noticed that a friend of mine had formed a serious attachment on a certain young lady. She herself seemed not affected by him. Besides her indifference, her connections are terrible. So I persuaded my friend to give her up. I fear that he has never stopped thinking about her, however, and I dread falling into the same trap. For I have begun to have… feelings… for a young lady in, well, almost identical circumstances. I know not what to do. An alliance between us would be a highly reprehensible connection. Our dear aunt would disown me…"
"Maybe you should follow your heart, in that case," said the Colonel. "I wouldn't happen to know the lady, by any chance?"
"No, not at all," replied Darcy hastily, grabbing the paper and hiding behind it. "Hmm, I see that the French have suffered a severe blow near ---------. Jolly good news!"
His cousin smiled knowingly and returned to his breakfast.
The rest of the morning Darcy spent in writing a letter to his sister, in which he disclosed nothing of his feelings, but instead gave lengthy descriptions of the guests at the Parsonage. After luncheon, he and the Colonel went for a walk around the park, but parted near the pond--Darcy wished to sit in silent, solitary contemplation for a while. The fact that he had sometimes seen Miss Bennet strolling in that area had no bearing on his decision. He was not to be so blessed on this occasion, however, and after battling the midges and mosquitoes for an hour or so, returned to the house.
The party from Hunsford was expected for tea at five, so it took Darcy longer than usual to dress. Running late, he hurried down the stairs just in time to see the guests arrive.
"… and it is with great distress that I tell you we shall be deprived of my dear cousin Elizabeth's company this evening. She has, unfortunately, been taken ill, and I assure you, madam, feels the pain of the loss of your company most exceedingly, indeed…" Mr. Collins was saying.
'What!' thought Darcy. 'No Elizabeth! I must think of an excuse…'
"She has probably been walking too much. Ladies are not built for taking extensive walks. Make sure that she does not over-exert herself again, Mrs. Collins, and if she is not recovered by tomorrow send for Mr. Smedley, the apothecary. Mention my name, and he will come immediately, though it is not an emergency."
'Oh blah blah blah,' thought Darcy impatiently, wishing that a thunderbolt would strike down his aunt, and preferably Mr. Collins as well.
"Excuse me," he said abruptly, bowing, and left the room.
Walking briskly in the direction of the parsonage, Darcy had no definite plan in his mind. He only knew that this must have been a heaven-sent opportunity to tell Miss Bennet of his feelings. He decided to take Fitzwilliam's advice and go for it. Forming some sentences in his mind, he rang the bell. A servant showed him to the parlour, where Elizabeth was sitting, hastily putting aside some papers. She looked a little tired, but as beautiful as ever. Her delightful eyes had a touch of sadness in them. 'Ah, soon that expression will turn to happiness,' Darcy thought jubilantly, 'when she hears what I have to say!'
"How are you, I hope you are feeling better," he said awkwardly.
"A little, thank you. Will you not sit down?" she replied.
Darcy sat in the nearest chair, and said nothing, trying to get his nerve up. Then he decided that it would be better if he stood by the mantelpiece. No, perhaps the window would be better. He paced the room for some time, before going towards her and saying-
"In vain I have 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."
Her eyes widened with surprise, her cheeks turned red. Her mouth opened a little, but she remained silent.
She is surprised, he thought. Little wonder, all things considered. I must explain.
"I know it is a surprise. The whole idea is farcical. I mean, one of your family forming an alliance with the Derbyshire Darcys! The idea of me having in-laws in trade--my family will be shocked. I am shocked that I have allowed my feelings to become so overwhelming, but they have done so. For almost as long as I have known you, I have admired you, despite your family. The embarrassing behaviour of your younger sisters has long been an obstacle to my affections becoming stronger, but here in Kent with only your odious cousin as reminder to your family's shortcomings, I have become impassioned. Miss Bennet, I cannot sleep for thinking of you, and I beg you to consent to marry me."
There, thought Darcy, if that confession doesn't make her want me, I don't know what will.
Elizabeth cleared her throat, and said-
"In such cases as these, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned…"
..... (From here on their conversation is as written in the book--I cannot improve on it, and to add in little bits of thought here and there would mean reproducing it all, which I don't feel like doing..... )
"Forgive me for taking up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness."
He left, and if he had been the one shutting the door, rather than the servant, he would have slammed it. He walked quickly down the path, beheading daisies with his cane. Wickham! That two faced, slimy sleazeball! She would rather take that worm's word than his own! I really must have been repellent, thought Darcy, if that is the case! If only I could live this afternoon over, how different it would be!
As he entered Rosings, he was detained by his aunt, and forced to make polite conversation to make up for his absence this afternoon. A couple of hours later he went to bed, his mind numbed, and fell into a fitful sleep.
Day Two
Fitzwilliam Darcy awoke with a yawn as his valet, Jenkins, bustled into the room.
"Good morning, sir," said Jenkins. "Is it not a fine day? Will you be wanting the green coat or the black one this morning?"
"Urgghhh…" said Fitzwilliam, still not entirely awake.
Jenkins pulled open the curtains and sunlight streamed into the room. Darcy hid his head under the pillow at first, then realised the futility of that and got up.
"I'll wear the black coat today, thank you Jenkins," he said, and got dressed.
He made his way down to the breakfast room where Colonel Fitzwilliam was busily tucking into some kidneys and tomatoes. Darcy shuddered and sipped some tea. The Colonel noticed something was amiss.
"Darcy, you are unwell?" he asked.
"No, no, I am quite well," replied Darcy, absent-mindedly. "Do you have to eat kidneys and tomatoes for breakfast every morning?"
"What do you mean, man? Yesterday I had kippers and a boiled egg. The day before… lets see… it was fried eggs and bacon. On Monday it was…"
"Oh, enough, enough," groaned Darcy, reaching for the paper. "It's just I could have sworn that yesterday you were eating kidneys and tomatoes, too. Is this today's paper?"
"Yes, why?"
"Didn't the French suffer a crushing blow at -------- yesterday?"
"No, yesterday they were at ----------. Are you sure you are not ill, cousin?"
"Hmm…" said Darcy, thinking, 'No, I'm no longer sure. I think I'm going crazy. First of all Jenkins wakes me in the same annoyingly cheerful fashion as he did yesterday, then you're eating the same breakfast, then the paper is the same. It does not make sense!'
The Colonel shook his head and smiled knowingly.
"It's a girl, isn't it? A man in love…"
Darcy, annoyed at his cousin's good humour, control of the situation, and partial insight, did not answer, but buried his head in the familiar paper. He was very confused. It was almost as if he was reliving the day before… but that could not be so. He decided he would go and finish the letter he had started to Georgiana the day before.
There was a small problem with this course of action, however. The letter was nowhere to be found. Let's see, thought Darcy, I was at the secretaire, and I put the letter in my blotter… but I've shaken it and nothing's come out. This is getting curiouser and curiouser!
He decided to start the letter over, and did so in much the same way as he had done before, with perhaps a little more description of Miss Bennet. His thoughts were with her constantly. What must she think of him?
Luncheon time soon arrived, and after very carefully putting his letter in his top drawer, Darcy went downstairs and joined his aunt and cousins at the table.
"I hope you will be more punctual this evening, Darcy," his aunt said, "for we are having company from the parsonage. The minions must have a good example set, or the world could turn to chaos."
"Company from the parsonage? Again? Do they really need to come here for tea two evenings in a row?" asked Darcy, dreading the thought of seeing Elizabeth again.
"Do you dare question my judgment?" thundered Lady Catherine. "Besides, they were not here for tea yesterday, nor shall be tomorrow. I have not the pleasure (or otherwise) of understanding you."
"Indeed, Darcy, you have been very odd all day. Our walk this afternoon shall clear your head, I hope!" said the Colonel.
"We went for our yearly turn about the park yesterday, didn't we? Why do you need to go again?"
"Darcy, I am beginning to think you quite, quite mad! We have not had our walk together yet this year. It must be love, I am sure of it!" replied Fitzwilliam.
Darcy was very, very confused by now, but he was beginning to remember…'If only I could live this afternoon over…' what if my wish has come true? Oh my G-! Am I reliving yesterday? How can this have happened? It must be for a reason…Will I have a chance to get things right? If I ask Miss Bennet to marry me again, will all be well? Do I still want to ask her to marry me? I acted on the impulse of the moment--she still has those horrible sisters, and the mother!
"All right, I'll admit it," he said to the Colonel. "There is a girl. But I don't know what to do. When a friend of mine was in a similar situation earlier this year, I did all that was in my power to prevent the match. The lady's family… yes, well, anyway, what do you think I should do?"
"I think," replied the Colonel, "that you should act as your heart tells you. You would not be marrying the family, remember."
"Yes, you are right. And besides, Pemberley is so far away from Hert… where she lives."
The Colonel smiled at his cousin's slip.
"I wouldn't know the lady by any chance?" he asked.
"No, not at all. Never heard of her in your life," responded Darcy, and turned towards his cousin Anne with a query after her health (for there is little else to talk to Anne about).
After lunch he went for his walk with the Colonel. Trying to keep things as much the same as possible, Darcy parted from his cousin at the pond again. As he knew that he would not have the pleasure of Elizabeth's company, instead of looking out for her he spent the time planning what he would do differently. He really wanted his proposal to go right this time. What was it she had objected to? It was hard to remember, he had been so emotional at the time. Well, there was the Wickham thing, and his arrogance, and his "selfish disdain for the feelings of others". But he could not change the past. Oh, well, he'd try and act less as if he was expecting an affirmative reply. He could not change what Wickham had said to her, but at least if he behaved less arrogantly he would have a chance to be heard on the subject. The time flew with these and similar reflections, and soon he judged it was about the time he had left the day before. He returned to the house and got dressed for tea.
Once again he rushed down the stairs to hear Mr. Collins' slimy voice.
"It is with much regret that I tell you that my dear cousin, Elizabeth, will not have the pleasure of your company this evening. She is, unfortunately, feeling a little under the weather, as they say, and…"
"Yes, yes," said Lady Catherine. "But this is all extremely vexing. You must call for the apothecary in the morning, so she should not be detained so again. I suspect she has been too long in the fresh air. It quite takes my spirits away, and Anne would never have enjoyed walking, even if her health permitted it. I am quite put out!"
They had begun to walk towards the drawing room, so Darcy decided this should be his cue.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but I find I have some urgent business that will prevent me from having the pleasure of joining you. Will you excuse me?" he said, thinking, Oh G-! I sound like Mr. Collins!
His aunt, proud of her nephew's business engagements, graciously allowed him to depart, on the provision that he spent the next day accompanying Anne to the village. Despite the fact that he would rather attend a piano recital given by Mary Bennet, he agreed.
He soon arrived at the parsonage, and got shown into the parlour again. Elizabeth looked up expectantly as he came in, but this changed to surprise when she saw who it was.
"Good evening, Miss Bennet, I trust that you are feeling a little better?" he asked cordially.
"Yes, thank you, I am. Will you not sit down, sir?" she replied.
Darcy sat down in the chair directly across from her, and began his speech almost straight away...
Day 2 Continued
Darcy sat down in the chair directly across from her, and began his speech almost straight away.
"I would like, Miss Bennet, to put to you a question that I have been thinking of for some time now. But before I do, I would like to lay before you some facts that I think you may be interested in. I thought that your sister was not in love with my friend Charles, or I should never have attempted to separate them. Despite the fact that your family connections are appalling, I believe that true love should overcome all barriers. Some members of your family really are embarrassing. Your sisters are extremely silly, your uncle is in trade, and your mother is shocking. These considerations helped me, it is true, justify not telling Bingley of your sister's being in town, and can you really imagine him visiting Cheapside? It defies imagination. Nevertheless, if it can be proved to me that your sister truly does love him, I believe that they should be together and I will do all I can to remedy my mistake."
During this oration Elizabeth's face grew very red, and several times she attempted to speak, but the words would not come. Darcy continued.
"My second point is that Mr. Wickham is not all he appears to be. I cannot tell you more, but just know that what he says about me is not true. I did not defy my father's wishes, I am not a blackguard, and I am not going to marry my cousin! I wish to marry another… I wish to marry you. Miss Bennet, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"
Elizabeth swallowed once. "Mr. Darcy!" she exclaimed. "You have certainly gone the wrong way about asking me. What on earth did you expect to gain from telling me all this? You have insulted my family, and through them myself. You want proof that my sister loves your friend? How about the fact that she did not eat properly for days when he had left Netherfield? What about the tear-stained letters that reached me from London when his sisters snubbed her? I have the letters right here, if you wish to verify. And how did you know what Mr. Wickham had told me? You have no evidence to support your claims, and I intend to continue thinking as I had before!"
Darcy was shocked at her response. He had poured out his heart to her, and she had still refused him. In such terms!
"You want proof? You want proof? You can't handle the proof! Mr. Wickham, my dear Miss Bennet, nearly ruined my family. He pleaded with me not to honour my father's wishes, he took three thousand pounds instead, gambled it all away, and then attempted to seduce my sister in hope of getting her fortune of thirty thousand pounds. And this is the man whose word you would take over mine! You can confirm all I have said by asking Colonel Fitzwilliam--he knows all the particulars, and I know that you trust him implicitly." He took a deep breath. "There is no hope of changing your mind, now?"
Elizabeth was appalled. "Maybe I was wrong about Wickham. But you have still insulted my family, behaved rudely while at Netherfield, and even if you do regret it now, you were the cause of my sister's unhappiness. Mr. Darcy, there is no way you could ever tempt me to marry you."
Darcy felt like crying. "You have no idea how hard it is for me to say these things to you, do you? It's nearly as hard as introducing myself to strangers, or mixing well at a party. I do not have your happy knack of getting along easily with people, Miss Bennet. It has always been hard for me, segregated as a boy, pursued by irritating fortune hunters as a young man…" She was silent. "Forgive me for taking up so much of your time, Miss Bennet. I will not trouble you again," he said. Well, not again today, he thought. He left without waiting for a reply.
D--n it, he thought as he left the building. Screwed it up again. I said all the wrong things. I shouldn't have said that about her family--in retrospect, it's hardly even true. I wouldn't have to have anything to do with the sisters, and I don't even know the uncle in London. Heck, Bingley's father was once in trade! Poor Bingley! Jane Bennet really did love him. I have been a fool all around. If I get another chance, I will go about it completely differently. But a third chance at happiness is hardly something I can expect. Oh, well, even if I don't get another go, at least I will still have the memory of her angry… gosh that was beautiful.
Once he reached Rosings he went straight to his bedchamber, making a flimsy excuse about business to his cousin. He wanted to think about what he had done.
Day Three
Darcy woke up as Jenkins came in his room, and thought, if he says "Good morning, sir. Is it not a fine day? Will you be wanting the green coat or the black one this morning?" he would scream. Jenkins did, but Darcy settled for hitting his pillow as hard as he could instead. He got dressed in his black coat, and went downstairs to be confronted by the delightful smell of fried kidneys and tomatoes.
"How long is this going to keep on going?" he muttered to himself. Fitzwilliam overheard.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"Oh, nothing," said Darcy. "I think that I'll just have tea this morning, however."
"Are you ill? You usually eat a hot breakfast."
"No, I'm not ill at all, I just had a bit of a hard night last night. You know how it is when our aunt is talking and there is a whole bottle of red wine in front of you…"
The Colonel laughed. "Yes indeed, for I have often fallen into the same trap myself. I suppose you will want the morning to yourself now."
"Yes, peace and quiet is just what I need. Are we still on for that walk this afternoon?"
The Colonel answered in the affirmative, and Darcy left him to his nauseating breakfast.
The walk that afternoon was becoming tedious. Before they got to the pond Darcy had had enough. He parted company with his cousin, pleading a hangover as an excuse. The Colonel completely understood, and Darcy returned to the house, where his aunt pounced on him.
"Darcy, my dear, how are you? Why have you come back from your stroll so soon?"
"I am a little tired, is all, aunt. I did not sleep that well last night. I was so overcome with the fact that we must leave here soon that I wanted to be awake every minute of our remaining time, so I as to enjoy it as long as possible," he said, hardly believing what he was saying. His aunt was very pleased by what he said, and let him go so that he could enjoy the pleasures of the library in the solitude he always insisted upon. In the library, Darcy soon fell asleep. It was true that he had not slept well, and besides, living the same day three times in a row was extremely tiring. He woke up as the clock was chiming 5, and realised that he was about to be late for tea, and his chance to right things with Miss Bennet. He ran upstairs and dressed himself (or rather, was dressed by his valet) as quickly as possible. He was ready with an excuse as he rushed down the stairs, but halted in his tracks as he saw Miss Bennet standing with the rest of the party in the hall.
"What are you doing here?" he could not help but blurt out.
All faces turned to him in astonishment. He felt his face going red.
"Why, I was invited, sir. I was not aware that I needed your permission as well. I am most sorry- I shall go, if my presence offends you," Elizabeth said, and turned as if to go. Mr. Collins looked as if he was about to speak, but Lady Catherine got in first, and asked him to go with her to look over some fabric that she thought might do for curtains for his study. He acquiesced immediately, and left Darcy, Lizzy and Fitzwilliam on their own, continuing the conversation.
"No, please stay," Darcy said gently. She turned to look at him, surprised at his change in manner.
"It is just that I thought you were ill," he continued.
"No indeed," she replied. "I had a most enjoyable walk with the Colonel this afternoon. It cleared my head completely. There is nothing in the least wrong with me, I assure you."
Darcy was confused. What had he done differently, so that she was not ill? And how could she go on a walk with the Colonel? "Well, that certainly is good news," he said, offering his arm to her. "Shall we go into the drawing room?"
Surprised at his civility, Elizabeth took his arm. After they had sat down, small talk was made in which Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth took the chief part. Darcy tried to be more agreeable, but found it difficult to change the habit of a lifetime in one evening. Their conversation ranged from books to music to the walk that Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam had enjoyed that afternoon.
"It is a lovely walk, your aunt is very foolish not to make the most of it," said Lizzy. "Although if she knew of it she would probably cause all the trees to be cut down because they spoilt the view."
The Colonel laughed. "You are probably quite right. Do you remember, Darcy, the time she came with us on a drive around Pemberley? She wanted you to get rid of the lake and put in a huge concrete fountain with a statue of Zeus or something in the middle."
Darcy shuddered. "Heaven forbid," he said. "At least she hasn't followed it up. I don't know why she hasn't, she usually follows things like a hound on the scent, but I'm thanking goodness she hasn't."
Darcy was interested in the fact that Elizabeth obviously did not remember anything that he had said in his disastrous proposals. What he did had no ramifications the next time around. And as the day seemed to want to repeat itself until he had a successful proposal, he thought he could have a lot of fun with the situation. Infinite possibilities opened up to him.
After Miss Bennet and the others from Hunsford had returned home, in Lady Catherine's condescendingly offered carriage of course, Darcy returned to the library to think some more. He could not remember what it was that had changed the course of the evening, so he could not change it back. An idea was forming in his mind, however, involving his afternoon walk. If he continued on with Fitzwilliam, he could meet up with Miss Bennet and show her how affable he really could be in a less formal situation. Pleasant thoughts on his mind, he said a (very) quick goodnight to his aunt on his way to bed, and had a night full of pleasant dreams of the morrow.
Day Four Part 1
As Fitzwilliam Darcy's valet, Jenkins, bustled into the room and drew the curtains open, Darcy mouthed to himself "Good morning sir. Is it not a fine day? Will you be wanting the black coat or the green one this morning?" Imagine his surprise when from his servant's mouth came the exact same words. What a strange coincidence, he thought sarcastically. He got up, washed his face (aaah…wet Darcy…) and went downstairs.
When he remembered that Fitzwilliam would once again be eating tomatoes and kidneys, he groaned. Sure enough, there was his cousin, noisily eating a fried tomato.
"Good morning, Darcy," he said, looking up. "Do have some tomatoes, they are most delicious this morning."
Sounds it, thought Darcy very quietly aloud. The Colonel did not hear him, fortunately, but started slurping on a bit of kidney. Darcy had soon had enough. He walked deliberately over to the sideboard, seized the dish of tomatoes, and put it over Fitzwilliam's head. Fitzwilliam looked extremely funny with tomato juice running down his nose and his mouth slightly open. Darcy laughed, feeling a lot better, and sat down to some tea and toast.
At that moment, Lady Catherine walked in.
The shock she displayed at seeing her second most eligible nephew covered in tomato juice cannot be described in words. Let us just say she was shocked, surprised, disgusted, angry, appalled, offended, and angry again.
"Richard Fitzwilliam!" she scolded. "You have got tomato stains all over my carpet. I hope that you have a reasonable excuse. Such behaviour may be tolerated in the Army, but this breakfast parlour is not a mess hall and I do not wish it to be treated so. You should have more respect for your family. Darcy here would never dream of ever doing such a thing…"
Darcy was annoyed by his aunt's stupidity. For one thing, why on earth would someone stick a dish of tomatoes on their head? And of course he would dream of doing such a thing…
"Excuse me, aunt," he interrupted. "But it was I who caused this mess. And do you know what? I think I feel like causing some more." And while saying this, he picked up the basin of kidneys and stuffed them down the back of his aunt's gown.
His aunt was too astonished to speak. Darcy took advantage of the preoccupation of the other occupants of the room and ran outside, heading towards Hunsford…
Oh no! Darcy has gone completely and utterly inane! Can he be stopped from doing something completely rash and stupid? Find out in the next enthralling episode... ;-)
Day Four Part Two
Darcy ran almost all the way to the Parsonage, but stopped before he reached the gate, as he was a bit out of shape and did not want Miss Bennet to see him panting. He didn't want her to think him more eager than he really was. He walked in without knocking, and went down the hall to the dining room, where the Collins' and their guests were at breakfast. Everyone looked up, shocked, as he walked into the room. Mr. Collins hurried to stand up.
"Mr. Darcy, I can't tell you how honoured we are to see you here at our humble abode. Indeed, words cannot express our gratitude in your generous condescension in paying us this unexpected visit. It is almost as magnanimous as your aunt's most kind and frequent attentions to us, and sir, I know that…"
At this point it seemed as if Mrs. Collins was going to interrupt her husband and ask what Mr. Darcy was doing, but Darcy was too quick. Having discovered the usefulness of breakfast foods as a weapon, he picked up some of the tea that was on the table and poured it down Mr. Collins' shirt, and then rubbing some scrambled eggs into his hair. Elizabeth started laughing, Maria sat in amazement, and Mrs. Collins hastened around the table to assist her husband.
"Be quiet, you insignificant toad," said Mr. Darcy. "I actually came to see Miss Bennet. Miss Bennet, will you do me the honour of walking with me this morning?"
Miss Bennet was all astonishment, but in her surprise she agreed to meet him by the pond in an hour's time. As soon as he had gained her assent, Darcy bowed curtly and left the room, leaving chaos behind him.
The day was warm, and after all of Darcy's walking and running he had been doing that morning he was quite hot. So he decided to pass the time with a dip in the pond- there would be time enough to dry off before Miss Bennet arrived for their walk. He took off his cravat and boots, and dived in. The time passed quickly, and he was floating on his back when he noticed a figure walking towards him in the distance. He hastily got out of the pond and attempted to dry off a little, as the figure drew closer.
Day 4 Part 3
When Darcy could see the person more clearly, he ran. This was not Miss Bennet. It was Colonel Fitzwilliam, intent on revenge, carrying a tub of fermented cabbage. Darcy ran for his life. Cabbage was his least favourite vegetable.
He ran down the hill, looking over his shoulder to make sure that the Colonel wasn't following him, and bumped smack-bang into Miss Bennet who was making her way to their rendezvous.
"Miss Bennet!" he exclaimed in embarrassment.
"Mr. Darcy!" she responded, shocked. Darcy grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the woods.
"Forgive me, but there's no time for explanations," he said, as he forced her down to the ground beside him.
They peered through the undergrowth to see the Colonel romping past, still clutching the cabbage.
"Darcy, oh Darcy," he was yelling. "Come out come out wherever you are! I'm not angry with you. I just want to talk. Honest!" He did not see them hidden and continued in the opposite direction.
"Phew!" said Darcy. "That was a close call!" He then realised the impropriety of their position on the ground, and got up, brushing twigs off his still wet trousers… and then realised what a spectacle he must be making with his trousers wet and his shirt transparent and partially unbuttoned. Miss Bennet did not seem to be perturbed, however.
"I had no idea you were so… impulsive," she said admiringly. "May I ask why your cousin is running around the countryside carrying a tub of rotten cabbage?"
"Well, you saw my performance at the parsonage this morning?" She nodded. "Let us just say that I had already had some practice."
"You don't mean…"
"Yes, I did. But that is not important now. Miss Bennet, I wished to talk with you about a rather delicate matter. I know that it is a crazy idea, and I will not be surprised if you say no, but I want to ask you anyway…"
"Yes…?" she prompted.
"Miss Bennet, would you, I mean, do you think you could… would you do me the honour of… walking to the pond with me? I left my boots and cravat there."
Damn damn damn! he thought.
She looked surprised. "Why of course, if you wish."
He helped her up, and they strolled to the pond in relative silence. He got into his boots, but could not tie his own cravat.
"Excuse me, would you mind… would I be asking too much if I asked you to tie my cravat for me?" he asked.
Elizabeth took it from him, and tied it expertly. He grabbed her hands from around his neck and looked into her eyes.
"Miss Bennet, would you marry me?"
She looked down at the ground.
"Mr. Darcy, I am fully aware of the compliment you are paying me, but I cannot accept your proposal. Although this day you have been attentive and friendly, this is only one day, and for the rest of the time I have known you, you have been… haughty, and disagreeable. I think that if I was to get to know you better, I may in time… but then, I may not… one who knows you better than I has told me that you are not a worthy man. I could never love someone who has done what you did to poor Wickham. So I must my answer must be no."
This was not a surprise to Darcy, but he still felt a little disappointed. "What about your sister and Bingley?" he asked.
"What about them?" she replied, and he remembered what it was that had been different the day before. He had not told the Colonel what he had done to them.
"Oh, nothing," he said. "Miss Bennet, you must believe me when I say that Wickham has misrepresented me to you. I never…"
He was interrupted by the Colonel who had discovered them, and was bearing his arms in a most terrifying manner.
"Run!" Darcy yelled.
He and Miss Bennet ran off in different directions, she towards the parsonage and he towards Rosings. He ran round and round until he had lost the Colonel, and spent the rest of the afternoon in solitary reflection up a tree in the middle of the woods. When it began to get dark, he made his way back to the house. As he was walking in the door, the Colonel, who had been watching above, emptied the contents of his tub on Darcy's head.
"Take that!" he yelled. "Oh, and by the way, our aunt refuses to have you in her house. She says that after such a display she does not wish to pollute the shades of Rosings with your presence any longer and suggests that you seek professional help!"
He then slammed the window shut. Darcy went in the house, and was met by his aunt, who ordered him out. He made his way to the back of the house, where he spent the night curled up in the stables, hoping that tomorrow would once again be today.
Day Five Part One
Darcy woke up with a groan. What a bad dream! Fancy dreaming being chased by the Colonel with a bucket of rotten cabbage. And having a day repeat itself over and over--what a nightmare! He sat up as Jenkins walked into the room.
"Good morning, sir," he said. "Is it not a fine day? Will you be wanting the black coat or the green one this morning?" Darcy groaned again. Either the dream was coming true or it had not been a dream.
"The black coat, thank you," he replied. He walked over to near the window and Jenkins began to help him get dressed.
"What is this behind your ear, sir?" asked Jenkins, pulling out some rotten cabbage.
A third groan emitted from Darcy. It was true! The Colonel had ambushed him.
"Oh, nothing," he sighed. "Jenkins, do you think you could bring me breakfast in bed this morning? I am not feeling the best."
"Certainly sir," responded his faithful servant, and retreated. Darcy got back into bed. He simply could not face another breakfast with the Colonel.
He waited until he judged the Colonel would be finished his breakfast before going downstairs. His relatives were all sitting in the drawing room.
"Darcy!" cried his aunt. "You have emerged at last! We have been quite desolate without you here, have we not, Anne?" Her daughter started to speak but Lady Catherine did not wait for a reply. "And you must stay here longer, if you waste time by sleeping in all morning, you need another week to savour the beauties of Rosings." (This was said looking meaningfully at her daughter.)
Darcy shuddered internally, but on the outside returned to the usual deference he showed his aunt.
"Indeed, madam, the distress I feel in leaving is beyond your contemplation (at least that much is true, he thought), but I must return to London within the week. Business, you know."
Just listen to yourself, thought Darcy in disgust. How could you have expected anyone to fall for such a person? I'm despicable! "No!" he said. "I cannot lie any longer. Yes, I do feel distress at leaving Kent, but it is not the charms of Rosings Park which tempt me. Rather, it is the charms of a certain young lady who is visiting the district, by the name of Elizabeth Bennet. Were it not for her, I would have left this mausoleum long ago! I have absolutely no wish to marry your daughter, and your company must be the most dreary I have ever had the misfortune to suffer. Indeed, were it not for my familial loyalty, I would never do my duty by you as a nephew at all. I'm sorry to pain you, but there it is. Excuse me, I must go now. I have no wish to inconvenience you any longer, now that you know there is no hope of me marrying your daughter. I'm sorry, Anne. Richard, I will see you later." And saying this, he left the room.
Posted on Wednesday, 10 February 1999
Darcy was feeling reckless. Although he had no desire to end up with smelly vegetable products in his hair again, he felt like doing something wild and frivolous. After all, when you are given the chance of running amuck with no consequences, you may as well take it! However he was also feeling tired, and when he sat himself under a tree in his aunt's orchard to plan his day, he found himself falling asleep. When he woke the sun was sinking low in the west. He cursed at the thought of a wasted day, and sat up, trying to get the twigs and dirt out of his hair.
All of a sudden, from behind him, came a mysterious rustling noise. Darcy turned around quickly. Seeing nothing, he went back to his reflections. Then an apple fell from the tree and hit him on the head. He turned around, irritated. So much for good resolutions where vegetables were concerned! Although of course apples are a fruit, and didn't make a mess if they were unripe, just a bruise. Ow! Anyway...
"Is anyone there?" he called. There was no reply. He called again, and thought that he could here some giggling coming from above him. He looked up, but could see nothing. Sighing, he knew what he had to do. He rolled down his sleeves in a business like manner and prepared to climb the tree. As his head rose above the lower branches, he could see two urchins sitting there, grinning as they saw the proud man from the big house climbing a tree in such an undignified fashion.
"Well, hello, hello," he said. "Who have we here?" The children were too shocked about the fact that he was perched on a bough talking to them to run away. The smaller of the two answered.
"I am Freddy, and this is my brother Sam," he said very politely.
"Delighted, I'm sure," responded Darcy. "I am Fitzwilliam Darcy."
"We know sir," said Sam. "You're Lady Catherine de Bourgh's nephew." His brother poked him and chortled. Darcy pretended he hadn't noticed.
"That's right," he said. "And where do you live?"
"In Hunsford village, sir. Our father is the blacksmith there."
"I see," said Darcy, as if he were talking to one of his London acquaintances. "And what are the sons of the village blacksmith doing in my aunt's apple tree?"
"Please sir, we didn't mean no harm by it. We were just picking some apples, there are so many, and she never comes here anyway," Sam rushed.
"No, no, it's quite all right," said Darcy with a twinkle in his eye, remembering his own childhood. "Just be more careful not to be seen next time, won't you?"
"Well, sir, it's not often we get the likes of you here. And why are you here, anyway?" asked Freddy boldly. "Freddy!" pig-whispered his brother.
Darcy smiled, and told them he had been banished from the house by his cruel aunt. "Will you help me get revenge?" he asked the boys, sensing some fun.
The lads were astonished at the request, but of course complied. The three of them put their heads together and plotted...
Darcy Runs Riot
Lady Catherine had gone to a nearby village to return a visit to her good friend Lady Metcalfe, and was not due back until just before the tea with the Hunsford party. So Darcy knew that he and the boys had at least an hour to run riot with little chance of being thwarted. They worked busily and the time flew, it didn't seem long until they could hear Lady Catherine's carriage (or rather, one of Lady Catherine's carriages, for she has several) pull up in the drive.
"Thank you very much," said Darcy to Freddy and Sam, giving them a handshake and half a crown. "You'd better hurry down the back stairs. Thanks for your help!" The boys bowed and ran off, trying to suppress their giggles. Darcy looked out the window and could see them scampering across the orchard, marveling at their good fortune, when Lady Catherine walked in.
"Still here, are you Darcy? I had not expected such a courtesy from you. Still, you are my nephew, and I will forgive you this once, no the condition that you never see that little trollop again… ow!" For as she walked across the hall, she slid on the first one of the boys' booby traps, and fallen to the ground.
"Are you all right, aunt?" asked Darcy, feigning concern as he helped her up. His aunt was shaken, though she would never admit it.
"Yes, quite," she snapped. "Darcy, I will speak with you later." And she walked imperiously toward the second drawing room. Darcy grinned as he knew what was coming. "One, two, three…" he counted in his head.
"Darcy!!!" came the yell from the drawing room. Darcy dutifully ran over to the room.
"What is it, aunt?" he asked, knowing perfectly well.
His aunt was on the floor.
"Darcy, somehow the springs in my chair are broken. Could you arrange someone to fix it? Try Hopkins, he's the best, really I wouldn't go anywhere else," said a subdued Lady Catherine. Darcy agreed, inwardly complementing Freddy on the grand job he had done of rigging the springs so they'd catapult the occupant across the room.
"But first, aunt, is there not something I could get you for your present relief, some brandy perhaps?"
"No, no, I do not drink. Alcohol is a thing of the devil, and I hope you never touch it!"
"Of course not, aunt."
"Perhaps, though, I will go and rest in the sitting room… bring a blanket to me, would you?" Lady Catherine left, exaggerating her pain.
Darcy had thought that this might be the way things would go. He picked up the blanket he had secreted behind the grandfather clock and followed his aunt, arriving in time to see her secretly drinking out of a bottle of something that looked suspiciously like whisky, but he knew to contain a cocktail of… well, some slightly less desirable fluids. He coughed.
"Oh, Darcy, there you are, took your time, didn't you?" said his confused aunt, secreting the bottle under a cushion while choking on its contents. Darcy handed her the blanket but she shook it aside.
"No, no, I've just remembered that that intelligent Mr. Collins and his family are due soon. Something must be done for them I suppose. I shall go and change into something a little less expensive. We mustn't have them feeling overwhelmed."
"Of course not," he agreed, looking forward to what was in store for his deserving aunt.
The Hunsford party were met by screams, shrieks and a barrage of dirty water that had fallen from the top of Lady Catherine's booby trapped door. Maids were running everywhere, and a goat had somehow made its way into the foyer, and was chewing on what looked to be a bonnet. (It had in fact come from Lady Catherine's closet, where it had already feasted on some brocade, a muslin dress, a smorgasbord of silks, and one pair of Italian leather boots.) They gazed in astonishment as a chicken was chased along the upper landing, but their gazes were checked as Lady Catherine herself walked regally down the stairs as if nothing was wrong.
"Good evening," she said arrogantly. "You are a little late, I am most displeased." Mr. Collins started apologising profusely, and blaming it on Lizzy, while Lady Catherine moved towards the dining room. The others followed, Lizzy having trouble containing her giggles when she saw the small circle of teeth marks right on Lady Catherine's …
The dinner went fairly well, considering- Lady Catherine was too distracted to say anything to Lizzy, and she, Darcy and the Colonel spent the evening in humorous conversation. The party left early as after such a strenuous evening Lady Catherine wished to retire. She dismissed her maid and wearily, but nobly, prepared for bed. She pulled back the coverlet and slid under the sheets. She sighed with relief and stretched out her legs, then leapt out of bed in a most undignified manner. She threw back the covers to discover… a great big fat toad sitting in the middle of her nice clean sheets. Darcy had struck again!
A listener outside the door laughed at the shrieks from within, and retired, satisfied with his day.
Day Six
Darcy awoke early and was already sitting at his desk in anticipation of the new day when Jenkins came into the room. He got dressed in his black coat, and went down to breakfast. He had decided that the time for fun and games was over, and that he would try and woo Miss Bennet in every way he knew how today.
The Colonel greeted him as he walked into the breakfast room, trying to ignore the smell of the kidneys on the sideboard.
"Good morning Darcy, sit down, have yourself some kidneys!"
"No thank you," replied Darcy, "I shall just have some toast this morning."
Fitzwilliam shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said. He waited until Darcy had seated himself with some toast and marmalade, and then said, "You know, Darcy, I had the strangest dream last night."
"Did you?" replied Darcy, curious.
"Yes, I dreamt that you put a goat in our aunt's wardrobe and a chicken in her boudoir."
Darcy bit his lip hard to stop himself from laughing out loud. "Indeed, a most unrealistic dream. So, Richard, do you want to go for our customary walk this afternoon?"
"Certainly" replied the Colonel, disappointed in Darcy's apparent lack of interest in his extremely interesting dream.
Darcy, when he had finished, returned to his chamber and prepared some things for his day. He then went to his aunt's greenhouse and picked some of the finest flowers they had to offer. He put everything in a satchel and set off towards Hunsford Parsonage.
The family were all sitting down to breakfast. Darcy went to the back door and quietly gave the maid a shilling.
"If you let me go up to Miss Bennet's room, and do not tell a soul, then there'll be more where that came from, nudge nudge wink wink," he said. The maid goggled, and silently showed him up to the room where Miss Bennet was staying. Darcy placed the flowers artistically all around the room, and put a note on her pillow, where she would notice it. Hearing someone approaching, he quickly left the room, and gave the maid an additional pound. She was astonished at the riches bestowed upon her, but Darcy assured her it was worth it to him, and asked that she keep him posted on Miss Bennet's reaction.
Elizabeth did not return to her room after lunch, but went for her walk instead. She was strolling towards the park, where she had had many an enjoyable ramble, when she was astonished to find a bunch of daffodils in her path. She bent down to pick them up. They smelt divine. I wonder who they could be from, she wondered, looking for a note. There was a note attached, but it gave little away, it merely said "To my sweetest, loveliest Elizabeth, from your secret admirer." Elizabeth felt flattered, for she was sure they were from the Colonel. He had been paying her every attention for the past few weeks, and although she thought that a match could never take place prudently, she was certain that this gift proved his love for her surpassed such considerations. Her suspicions seemed proven when the man himself appeared from around the corner, accompanied unfortunately by the odious Mr. Darcy.
Darcy's Worst Nightmare
"Colonel!" Lizzy greeted delightedly. "Mr. Darcy." (in a slightly less pleasant tone). "Fancy meeting you here!"
"Indeed, it is an unexpected pleasure, Miss Bennet," said Fitzwilliam. Darcy was a little upset at her cold tone, and could hardly manage to say anything.
"Lovely daffodils," he said. Lizzy smiled brightly at the Colonel.
"Yes, I found them on the path over there. I can't imagine where they're from!"
"You know, they look a lot like the variety my aunt has growing in her greenhouse," said the Colonel. "Richard!" hissed Darcy.
"I thought as much," said Lizzy, beaming at Fitzwilliam. "Where are you headed?"
"We're on our annual tour of the park," replied the colonel. "Will you join us?"
"Certainly," she replied. They set off, Fitzwilliam in the middle. Being of superior intellect, he had guessed the origins of the flowers, and attempted to include Darcy in their conversation. It did not work very well.
"So, Darcy, what do you think of Herr Beethoven's latest Symphony? I believe you heard it recently in London."
"The Fifth? Yes, I heard it. It was quite well done, I enjoy his music."
"What do you think, Miss Bennet?"
"Oh," said Lizzy, "I have not heard it, but I dislike Beethoven in general. My sister Mary has been learning one of his themes and variations lately- I am getting quite sick of it indeed!"
"But there is something to be said for his style, his originality, his passion," said the ever diplomatic Colonel.
"Well, maybe so, but for my part, I prefer the deceptive simplicity of Mozart. In my opinion, it is much more interesting to listen to, and more enjoyable to play."
"I like Mozart too," said Darcy, eagerly. Lizzy ignored him.
"Now, Colonel, what about something you know something about? Would you explain to me the military significance of the crushing defeat the French suffered yesterday?" she asked.
"Oh, I never talk about work when I'm on leave, such a crashing bore I feel," he said easily. "Darcy, what do you think?"
"I fear I am ill qualified to take part in this conversation," he said.
"Nonsense," declared Fitzwilliam. "We were just about to change the subject. What of books?"
"Books?"
"Yes, have you read anything good lately?"
"Miss Bennet has already decided that we have nothing in common in our reading tastes, I would not wish to bore her with it," said Darcy shortly.
"I am sure I would love to discuss books with you, Colonel. Unlike some people, I feel you can hold a civil conversation."
"You know," said the Colonel, despairing at his cousin's efforts and the direction of the conversation, "I have some business to attend to back at Rosings. You two go on ahead, I will see you at tea this evening." He left them standing by the pond, hoping that by leaving them alone together something would happen. Darcy too was cross at his cousin, for he felt that Fitzwilliam had been monopolising the conversation as to appear at his best advantage in front of Miss Bennet. Lizzy was unwilling to see the Colonel go.
"I had best be heading back, too," she said. "I need to write a letter to my sister." Darcy knew this was just a pretext, but could not think of a way to stop her.
"Miss Bennet," he called.
"Yes, Mr. Darcy?" she sighed.
He wanted to tell her the truth about the flowers, but the word would not come. He couldn't exactly blurt out Miss Bennet, I gave you those daffodils.
"Nothing," he said. Oh well, she'd know the truth when she got back to her room.
But alas poor Darcy! Some of the water that the flowers were in had run over the note he had left with them. So instead of the signature being "Fitzwilliam Darcy", it read "Fitzwilliam Smudge". Lizzy picked it up from her pillow and smiled.
"Milly," she called to the maid, just to make sure. "Who put these flowers in my room?"
"The young man from the big house," Milly replied, under pressure. Lizzy gave her another sixpence, and sang under her breath. For the poem accompanying the flowers had said-
"Elizabeth, the fair, the true,
I admit that I love you.
Your beauty, wit and repartee,
Have captured my poor heart, you see.
Wealth divides us- I don't care!
You have charms beyond compare.
Accept these flowers, if you please.
(I hope that they don't make you sneeze!)
The love I feel for you is rare,
I think that we'd make a great pair.
So please consent to marry me,
And make my life truly happy.
Give me one look, one nod tonight,
And I'll know things will turn out right.Yours, Fitzwilliam"
Both Elizabeth and Darcy dressed with particular care that evening. When the party from Hunsford arrived, Darcy was eagerly waiting in the front passage.
"Miss Bennet, let me take your coat," he said.
"Thank you," she replied absently, looking over his shoulder. Darcy wondered what she was looking for. He soon knew.
"Colonel!" she greeted, smiling as that gentleman walked in.
"Good evening Miss Bennet, Mr. Collins, Mrs. Collins, Miss Lucas," he said amiably. "Nice to see you."
To Darcy's chagrin, Elizabeth was looking meaningfully at his cousin, and ignoring him! Something had gone terribly, horribly wrong. It went the same way the whole evening. He would try and talk to her alone, and she'd stay with the colonel. When the night was over, and nothing had happened, Darcy was seething with jealousy. If it was anyone but his cousin, he would be tempted to call him out! As it was, of course, there was nothing he could do. Until tomorrow, when he would try and make sure there was no way of mistaken identity occurring. Tomorrow, things would go right.
But that night, he cried himself to sleep.
Day Seven
Darcy awoke early after a disturbed night, with somewhat red eyes but a clear resolve. There was nothing he could do but keep on trying. As long as he learned from his mistakes, persistence would pay off.
Once dressed, he went downstairs. He could smell the tomatoes and kidneys from down the hall but decided that he'd better learn to live with them. He took a deep breath and entered the breakfast room.
"Darcy, good morning!" greeted his cousin. "Did you sleep well?"
"I fear not," replied Darcy, "I think I will only be able to manage a little toast this morning."
They ate in silence for a while, then Darcy spoke.
"Richard, do you think I could ask a favour of you?"
"But of course, man, anything!"
"Now, don't laugh, but do you think you could teach me how to get along with women?"
Fitzwilliam stared at his cousin in amazement, and his shoulders started shaking with suppressed laughter.
"Don't laugh!! I- stop it! It's just that you're so popular, you've never had any trouble with girls, even without trying, whereas I… stop it!!" As the Colonel let out a huge guffaw.
"Oh, if only you knew!" he said. "It can be such a pain, being popular. Everywhere I go, a gaggle of women surround me. I can't have a normal conversation with anyone, and there is nothing I can do! Not that that's always so bad…"
"But there must be some way that you attract them. I mean, I am just as handsome as you, I have more money, and yet even when I'm my nicest and you are your rudest women prefer you."
"Well, my child, I will tell you the secret of my success, but do not blame me if it gets out of control!"
"Yes, yes, what is it?" asked Darcy eagerly.
"Pudding!"
"Pudding?" repeated Darcy incredulously.
"Yes, if you eat enough it makes women unable to resist you!"
Darcy thought this sounded odd, but decided his cousin must know what he was talking about. So he went to the kitchen and asked the cook for some pud. He gorged himself on it until he felt a little ill, and decided to go out for some fresh air.
Darcy was walking innocently down the lane when he discovered he was being followed by one of the kitchen maids. He tried to ignore her for a while, but then she was joined by the gardener's daughter, a maid who'd been hanging out some washing, and a few passers by from off the street. This is most odd, thought Darcy to himself.
"Excuse me," he said, "But why are you all following me?"
The ladies stood in shock.
"You know," said one of the passers by, "I haven't the foggiest idea! I was just strangely attracted to you, and felt compelled to follow you. Excuse me sir, I will try not to let it happen again."
The other ladies agreed, adding "Yes, you are indeed irresistible!"
Darcy bid the ladies good day, and set off again on his own, determined to test out his new irresistibility with Miss Bennet.
A Study On The Effects Of Pudding.
Elizabeth was setting out for her daily constitutional, when Mr. Darcy drew near.
"Miss Bennet!" he called. Lizzy got a strange look in her eyes.
"Mr. Darcy!" she screamed, and ran over to him, throwing her arms around him. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you!"
"Are you, are you really?" he asked, looking into her fine eyes.
"Oh, yes," she said, limbs still entangled round him.
Darcy bent his head over hers and gave her a long, intimate kiss. He knew that it was unethical, as she was bewitched by the pudding, but he had wanted this for so long! But eventually he was the one to break it off.
"Miss Bennet, I have compromised your reputation- I fear the only way out of this is to ask you to marry me."
"Oh, yes," she breathed. "Now, let's get back to where we were…"
Darcy would have enjoyed this, but his conscience smote him, and he left, saying they would announce the engagement to his family and her friends that night. He returned to Rosings with a singing heart, but a slightly uneasy mind. He lunched in silence, and set off on his afternoon walk with the Colonel. They did not meet Miss Bennet on their stroll, and the rest of the afternoon passed without incident. Darcy was still marveling at his good fortune in being accepted by Elizabeth. (He had, of course, thanked the Colonel for his assistance at the first opportunity.)
Mr. Collins and party arrived for tea in due course. Elizabeth looked subdued, rather than the radiant fiancée he had been hoping for.
"Mr. Darcy, can I speak to you in private for a bit?" she asked.
"Why of course," he said, drawing her into an ante room.
"Mr. Darcy, I don't remember much of what happened this morning, but I do know that I accepted a proposal of marriage from you. Now, I realise it is the right thing to honour one's commitments, but I fear that I do not love you the way a wife should love a husband. If it is not too much to ask, could you please release me from my engagement?"
"Why?" asked a tormented Darcy.
Elizabeth explained that she had been carried away, that his pride and haughtiness and treatment of Wickham had injured him previously in her estimation, and that while she would honour her promise if she must, she felt she could never marry a man who dressed in one white sock and one pink. Darcy looked down at his feet and blushed. He'd been distracted while dressing.
"I perfectly comprehend your feelings," he said, "and, although it pains me, I will release you if you wish. However, you may change your mind…" and he told her the true tale of Wickham. She sat there in astonishment for a while, and then said, "This indeed puts a different light on matters. I see that I was incorrect in trusting a virtual stranger so implicitly. However, I still feel that, while you are not a cad, you are neither the man for me."
Darcy acknowledged her wishes, but expressed disappointment. They returned to the rest of the party unnoticed. They avoided each other the rest of the evening.
I must try to win her back! Darcy thought once the guests had departed, but no pudding this time, it's just not right. He grabbed a guitar from his aunt's music room and headed over to the Hunsford Parsonage. He found the window that he believed to be that of Miss Bennet and set himself up underneath it, firstly just quietly strumming a few chords, and then bursting into full song.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that no man can be perfect, and despite appearances, Darcy stayed true to this rule. It was a little known fact that Darcy happened to have a terrible singing voice, worse than even Mary Bennet's. So it can be imagined what he sounded like, sitting there in the dark, missing chords and warbling a Mozart aria. (I think that's what it was supposed to be.)
The window opened.
"Could you keep the *^%#ing noise down, some people are trying to sleep!" yelled an irate Mr. Collins. Then the next window opened, and Lizzy's face appeared, laughing.
"It's all right, Mr. Darcy, I loved it. Thank you," she called.
"Mr. Darcy, is that really you? Oh, no, I seem to have made a terrible mistake," exclaimed Mr. Collins. His apologies followed Darcy as he returned to Rosings to sleep the sleep of the satisfied.
An Inventory After A Week Of Repetition.
Number of times proposed to Lizzy- five
Number of times accepted- one
Number of days spent being extremely silly- two
Number of times disowned by Lady Catherine- two
Total cost of bribes given- half a crown + sixpence + a pound + a shilling (don't know how to do un-metric arithmetic!)
Total number of times Darcy has appeared wet- four, if you count rotten cabbage and tears.
Day Eight
Darcy slept in until he was woken by Jenkins moving about the room.
"Good morning, sir. Is it not a fine day…" said the valet.
Darcy groaned, rolled over onto his front and buried his head in his pillow.
"I don't want any jacket today, thank you Jenkins, I believe I will remain in my chamber all day."
"Of course, sir," said Jenkins, and withdrew.
When he was sure he had gone, Darcy silently dressed in his blackest outfit. He had formed a desperate plan. He climbed out of his window on some knotted bed sheets, quietly harnessed a horse, and rode over to Hunsford. Now that he knew which window was Miss Bennet's, he climbed the ivy, forced open the correct window, and climbed inside. There, lying on the bed, was Elizabeth Bennet. She looked so lovely that all he could do was kiss her. She did not wake up, but turned in her sleep. Grabbing his chance, Darcy swaddled her in bedclothes, and carried her out the window over his shoulder. Sitting her in front of him, they set off northwards. Elizabeth woke up with the unfamiliar movement.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK," she screamed.
Darcy was almost deafened, but he tightened his grip. "It is all right, Miss Bennet," he said in a deep, masterful tone.
"Who are you, where are you taking me, put me down!" yelled Lizzy. Darcy had his face covered by a mask, and did not answer, just continued his wild ride. Lizzy, however, continued to struggle, and he was forced to reassure her.
"It's all right, milady, you are in safe hands. I do not wish to harm you," he said in a sexy (disguised) voice. Of course Lizzy was comforted and she began to enjoy being stuck in such close confinement with such an attractive stranger. They rode in comfortable silence for a couple of hours, then they made a stop at an inn.
Lizzy dismounted from the horse, blushing when she realised she was still in her nightgown. Darcy realised at the same time, and while he enjoyed the sight of her dressed so, he realised that it was not very modest. So he procured a room at the inn and smuggled her inside.
"Await here, milady, I will bring you some clothes directly, and something to eat."
"I am not "Milady", so could you please stop calling me that? And may I not see your face?"
"Aha," said Darcy devilishly, "no-one may no the identity of the masked marvel!" And with a swirl of his cloak, he left the room, locking the door to prevent her escape.
Lizzy sat, half fuming, half drooling, over the mysterious man who had brought her here. She tried the door in vain, and realised that even if she could escape from the room, she had no way of getting home, and in her state of half undress could hardly obtain any. Luckily, she did not have long to wait. Darcy soon returned and gave her a dress to wear. Unfortunately, he had neglected to bring any undergarments, and the dress was a little too small. Darcy was thrilled. Lizzy wasn't. They ate a quick meal in silence, especially quick since Darcy couldn't eat with a mask over his mouth. They were soon on their way again.
The Continued Adventures of the Masked Marvel
Lizzy was quite put out. She had been in the middle of a pleasant dream involving a tall, dark and handsome man giving her a moonlight serenade, when she was abducted from her bed and made to ride on a horse practically naked in the company of this mysterious man. And although it was one of her fantasies, the reality proved to be a little less comfortable than she'd expected. And he hadn't even tried to kiss her yet!
Darcy was thinking the same thing. He had no idea what had compelled him to do this, but he had, and now he had to make a big decision. Should he take his mask of to kiss her, revealing his identity, or do it through the mask, which wouldn't taste all that nice. Or he could rip a hole in it, or he could not kiss her at all. These deliberations were running through his head and making him slightly uncomfortable (ahem) so he decided the horse needed another rest.
"We will stop here and let the horse have something to drink," he said, lifting Lizzy down form the said horse's back. He let the horse go. All of a sudden he became aware that Lizzy was staring at him.
"What are you looking at?" he asked, discomfited.
"I am contemplating the pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a handsome man can bestow," she said. "Beneath that mask, you have the most amazing eyes. May I not see the rest of your face to see if it matches up?"
Darcy was unsure.
"No, not yet," he said. "But I will kiss you."
He took her in his arms with hardly a protest, and she let herself go in the moment. After all, she rationalized, her honour was already compromised, she may as well do what everyone would be thinking she was doing. Darcy gradually let the mask creep over his face. The kiss was long and deep, she raked her fingers through his hair… and before matters could get any further, they were interrupted by a party of horsemen, including Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Collins (who was the reason they had not been caught earlier.)
"There she is!" cried Collins. "My fair cousin, are you all right?"
"And there he is!" shouted the Colonel. "My 'fair' cousin, what are you doing?"
"Cousin?" exclaimed Lizzy in horror, looking at Darcy.
Day Eight Continued
Darcy looked shamefaced. Lizzy lifted her hand as if to slap him, but changed her mind when she saw his embarrassment. Then she remembered what she was wearing, and blushed. Collins and the Colonel had noticed some time ago, the former was holding his hand to his face to avoid seeing anything, the latter was unperturbed, and laughing. In distress, Lizzy ran away.
"Now look what you've done!" Darcy yelled at his cousin, and plunged into the thick woods behind her.
Lizzy, although a good runner, was disadvantaged by her long dress, and Darcy soon caught her up.
"Elizabeth, are you all right?" he asked.
"Don't talk to me, you… you…you…," she spluttered. "You humiliated me, you cad!"
"I didn't mean to," he said humbly.
"You didn't mean to???" she shrieked, pacing round a bit of moss. "What on earth were you planning to do then? You abducted me in the early hours of the morning wearing nothing but a nightgown and a bedsheet, dragged me off on a horse to goodness knows where, completely compromised my reputation, and you expect me to believe you didn't mean to humiliate me? What do you think I am? I knew you were rude and unreasonable before, but this completely ruins any good opinion of you I might have still entertained!!!"
"Elizabeth…"
"And don't call me by my first name, it is an intimacy I don't want you to have!"
"Elizabeth," Darcy continued, "I think that the feelings you express now are not exactly what you were feeling, let us say, about ten minutes ago?"
Lizzy stopped in her tracks. "Well…"
"In fact, is it not the truth that were it not for the untimely interruption of our cousins, you would not be feeling very humiliated at all?" he continued.
"Until I found out that it was you," she replied.
"Miss Bennet," said Darcy, "please do not think me a cad. If you could but forget my behaviour in Meryton, of which I am ashamed, would I really be so bad?"
Elizabeth was silent for a while. Then she spoke.
"Well, until your outrageous behaviour today, I would have to say… no. If I had first met you here, not knowing anything of you, you would not be so bad. But I do know you, and what you did to Wickham, and…"
Darcy felt angry at the sound of that name. He realised that his behaviour today really did put him in the same "cad" class as Wickham.
"You are right," he said bitterly, "If I had indeed done anything to Wickham, it would be unforgivable. And believe me when I say, that I would never usually behave in such a manner as this."
Elizabeth affixed him with a questioning look, and Darcy related to her all the particulars of his dealings with Mr. Wickham. He stopped short of explaining about his magically repeating day, however.
Elizabeth looked at Darcy saucily. "Indeed, Mr. Darcy, I am now of the opinion that were it not for the circumstances, I would have enjoyed kissing you." Silence for a while. Then Lizzy shrieked. "Oh my, I cannot believe I just said that!"
"Don't worry," said Darcy gallantly. "It will be as if it had never been said tomorrow."
"Oh, that's so sweet," said Lizzy, as she took his arm and started walking back towards the others.
When they reached the others, Lizzy got on the Colonel's horse and he and Darcy shared Darcy's. The trip back to Hunsford was silent, as Darcy had stuffed his mask in Collins' mouth. When they reached the Parsonage, Darcy helped Lizzy of her horse in private.
"Do not fear for your reputation," he said. "For I spoke the truth. Tomorrow no-one will remember anything that happened today. It will be as if it had never happened." And with that, he silently withdrew, and returned to Rosings, where he snuck up the stairs to avoid an explanation, and went to bed.
Will telling someone change the way things go? Find out in the next episode!
Day Nine
Darcy was woken in the usual manner and went directly downstairs, as he was eager to visit Miss Bennet and see if she had any memory of the day before. His cousin's usual breakfast of kidneys and tomatoes was on the sideboard, but Darcy's nose was above worrying about such considerations. His eyes, however, objected to the lovely, delicious, grey, fatty delicacy…I should stop here before I throw up…
So, after breakfast Darcy made his way to Hunsford Parsonage. Lizzy was in the back parlour, reading a book.
"Miss Bennet, how are you today?"
"Mr. Darcy," she returned, not entirely unfriendly. "I am as well as can be expected, after…"
"After…" Darcy repeated hopefully.
"After getting sunburnt yesterday when I strolled in the park. I forgot my bonnet, it was most remiss of me," she continued, looking at him as if he were a melanoma.
"Ah," said Darcy, sitting down. He sat in silence for a while, scrutinising Lizzy carefully. She squirmed under his gaze.
"What are you reading?" he asked. She showed him the cover of her book.
"Ah… Henry Fielding! One of my favourite authors. Tell me, have you read "Joseph Andrews?"
"Indeed I have, sir."
"Well, you must have enjoyed it to be reading another of his books. So it would seem that occasionally we do read the same, with the same feelings," he said, referring to their conversation at the Netherfield ball. Lizzy blushed.
"Sir, I am sorry…"
"Nay, nay, I understand."
"Sir, you seem determined to embarrass me!"
"Not at all," he replied, sincerely. "I would never mean to do anything that would cause you discomfort."
Lizzy looked astonished. Could this congenial man really be Mr. Darcy? She felt herself warming towards him as he continued to be kind and agreeable, but then recollected something Wickham had once said- "Mr Darcy can please where he chuses…he can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while…" and her heart hardened.
"You almost had me fooled, Mr. Darcy," she said in a low tone. "But I will not fall for it any longer. What is it you want from me, that you are being so agreeable?"
Darcy was shocked. "Why the sudden change in mood, Miss Bennet?" he asked.
"Forgive me. I just feel that you have had a sudden change in temperament yourself. You have spent the entire time of our acquaintance being, by turns, rude, proud, arrogant, disagreeable, and silent. Now all of a sudden you expect me to believe that you are agreeable, kind and friendly? It was Wickham, I believe, who first told me that when you want something, you will court their favour in this way. I know how you treated him, Mr. Darcy, and may heaven strike me down if I ever forgive you!"
"Well, I would not like you to be struck down," responded Darcy. "But nevertheless I will now tell you the truth about my dealings with Wickham, and this may change your mind."
"Go on," said Lizzy, sitting back and folding her arms defiantly. "For I doubt that anything you could say will affect my feelings."
Darcy told her, briefly and sincerely, all that had passed between himself and that man. "So you see," he concluded, "Wickham nearly destroyed my family. Had my father been alive, I am sure he would have done the same thing. Growing up without him was not easy, Miss Bennet, and it made me proud, yet shy. I hope, now that you have heard me, you may change your mind about me."
Lizzy was silent for a few moments. "Indeed, Mr. Darcy, what you have told me is hard to digest, but I must own that I believe you. Although I didn't like you, I always knew you to be completely honest. I have to say that you were right… I do forgive you."
Darcy stood up in delight, and was about to speak when there was a huge flash of lightning, and all of a sudden he was on his own.
"Oh my…" he said, stricken.
Her wish came true! What will Darcy do now that his lady-love has been struck down?
Day Nine, Continued
Darcy stood gasping in astonishment at the blackened spot left by Miss Bennet. He pinched himself really hard to make sure it wasn't a dream. Then again, nothing had happened recently that didn't have a dreamlike quality. He went to investigate the mess in the carpet more closely, but his movements were checked by a movement outside. Not wanting anyone to question him, he climbed out the window and ran across the fields back to Rosings.
Deciding it would be prudent to remain elusive, Darcy spent the rest of the day indoors. He tried to read, but no imaginary life could compare with his of the last eight days. Bored, he looked through the papers in his aunt's desk. Suddenly he stiffened.
I will meet you at the usual place, usual time. Bring the money. And whatever you do, tell no-one said a piece of paper. Darcy rifled through the rest in the drawer. Sure enough, there were many similar notes, asking for money and secrecy. Was his aunt being blackmailed? The letters gave little away. The most recent one was dated two days ago, and from the earlier ones he pieced together that the rendezvous was to be today, at the bridge, in two hours time! So that's what Lady Catherine had been doing when she said she was at Lady Metcalfe's house, he thought wryly. What was the secret his aunt was keeping?
Of course, having made this discovery, Darcy could not rest without going to the bridge and seeing what was going on. He decided to leave now so as not to be detected by his aunt. He concealed himself in a tree near the bridge and waited.
By the time his feet had pins and needles, his aunt had arrived. She looked furtively around, and sat on a stone to wait. A man in black appeared, with his face concealed, and walked over to her.
"Do you have the money?" he asked in a low voice.
"Yes, yes, just give me the stuff," she replied, looking around her anxiously. He handed her a thin parcel, wrapped in brown paper, and she counted him out a number of notes. Then they went their separate ways, not looking back. Darcy dropped down from his tree, stumbling as his tingling foot gave way. He resolved to follow the mysterious stranger, as he knew what his aunt was going to do. The man in black went all the way into Hunsford village, and into the inn. Darcy hesitated, then followed.
He asked the maid the way to the gentleman's room, and she told him, agog at the generous tip he gave her. Darcy put his eye to the keyhole, and peered inside. All he could see, however, was black, and as he was standing back up, the door opened. He fell forwards and landed at the stranger's feet.
"Ah, Mr. Darcy," said the stranger in a raspy baritone. "I have been expecting you."
Posted on Saturday, 17 April 1999
Author's Note: An acknowledgment- thanks to Dawn for revealing to me the identity of the man in black!
"Expecting me?" asked Darcy. "Well, excuse me, mate, but I don't believe I have the pleasure of knowing you. Pray tell me why I should be expected by you?"
The stranger peeled off his face. Darcy reeled back in horror. (Wouldn't you if someone peeled off their face?) But it turned out to be a latex mask. Darcy relaxed. Then he looked once again at the dark stranger.
"Nope, still don't know who you are," he said in relief. He had had visions of it being the decomposed remains of his father, for example, or perhaps Miss Bennet in a really cunning disguise. But it was just an ordinary looking man.
"You don't recognise me, do you? Well, you wouldn't. We have not met. But I know all about you, Mr. Darcy… you and Miss Elizabeth Bennet!"
Darcy was in shock. He had not thought that anyone knew. Excepting possibly his cousin and Mrs. Collins. Oh and…
"But who are you?" he asked the stranger.
"You know, I don't think I want to tell you that yet," he replied. "Let us talk about something else."
"No! I want to know who you are and I want to know now."
"Why can't you just wait until tomorrow?"
"Because tomorrow never comes!" blurted Darcy, instantly putting his hands over his mouth. The stranger smiled.
"I know."
"You know? B-b-but how?" Darcy asked in astonishment and apprehension.
"Oh, I'm not even the only person who knows. You'd be surprised."
"OK, what are you talking about? What's going on?"
The stranger gave a mysterious smile.
"What?" cried Darcy, infuriated. "What?"
The stranger gave in at Darcy's obvious distress.
"You know your aunt?" he asked.
"Of course I know my bl---y aunt! Spit it out, or I'll have to extract it from you using a rabid hamster and some super-glue!"
The stranger laughed again. "Oh, OK, OK," he said. "You're aunt, Mr. Darcy, has been paying me to keep the day repeating for you, so that you will transfer your affections from Miss Bennet unto her daughter Anne. For I, Mr. Darcy, I am the Master of all Evil!" At this point ominous music started in the background, and the stranger started doing an evil cackle.
Darcy stood open mouthed.
"I knew that one day you would find me. I have been following your progress, you have done quite well," the Master of all Evil continued.
"Please, Mr. Evil Sir," started Darcy.
"Master, please," said TMOAE.
"Master, then. Please, Master, could you tell me how to stop this day from repeating? What can I do to stop it without marrying my dreadful cousin?"
"There are three things you must do. One, sell me your soul."
"No, no, I could never do that!"
The Master sighed.
"I thought as much. Oh, well. If you will not sell me your soul only true goodness will defeat me. You must prove yourself to be truly good before I will allow the day to stop. Or, you could pay me a lot of money." More evil cackling and rubbing of hands.
Darcy didn't have to think very long.