Jump to new as of January 8, 2001
Posted on Wednesday, 13 December 2000
I have altered the original story a bit. Mr. Darcy does not write The Letter, and instead goes to Rosings for supper where he finds out Lizzy would be there, as well. I hope you enjoy it!
Oh, how she hated that man! That horrible, wretched, conceited, proud, arrogant man! The man who, she had just found out, had ruined her sister's happiness! The man who had ALSO ruined Wickham's future! And he had just given her a HORRIBLE proposal! Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth thought, must be the worst man in the world!
She ran outside Hunsford to a small clearing that offered a magnificent view of Rosings Park. A large tree enticed her into sitting down and leaning against it. Soon the sweet smell of flowers and the song of the birds lulled her into a deep sleep, and collapsed into a dream...
"Darling! Whatever are you doing?" Darcy asked his wife in mock surprise. She laughed.
"Merely writing a letter, my love! Is that too much to ask, a simple hour from your time?" Lizzy answered him.
"Yes, it is! And pray tell, who is the lucky being who has stolen you from me for the past hour?" Again Lizzy laughed.
"My aunt Gardiner. Curiosity has gotten the better of her and she wants to know every last detail about our relationship." A look of pain crossed both their faces.
"And at what part are you at, love?"
"Hunsford..." She paused, and crossed the room to him. "How I must have hurt you then...I cannot believe I let prejudice blind myself to your true character. To think I thought you evil then! But you are truly the best man I have ever known..." She trailed off. He embraced her and kissed her head.
"The past does not matter...what matters is that I love you." He whispered.
"And I you." He lifted up her chin, a bit teary at how they had overcome the misunderstandings between them, and kissed her on the lips. She marveled at her good fortune as she returned his kiss.
Lizzy woke up. Was that dream about what she thought it was about? She knew in her dream she was married to Mr. Darcy. But the thought was amazing! What could have possessed her to marry such a man? And I will only marry for the deepest love.
But it was obvious she had loved him. And in her dream there was a caring, loving, and somewhat shy man! She could tell. The shyness was there, and there was also pride, but not improper pride. And how could she tell his character from a simple dream? But deep down, she knew that this was his true character. And even deeper down, she knew that he was a man she could love. But how could she tell? She wanted to see if this truly was him. Had she simply misunderstood him? She knew she had to talk to him, to listen to him, but first to...apologize to him.
She walked back to Hunsford, where Mr. Collins and Charlotte were preparing to go to Rosings for dinner. Mr. Collins told her to make haste and make herself presentable, to which Lizzy obliged (after a roll of her eyes). Soon the party went on their way.
Everyone sat in the large drawing room and listened to Lady Catherine. Lizzy was nervous. She blocked out Lady Catherine's chatter and thought about Mr. Darcy. She truly needed to speak to him. She glanced at him across the room. He was looking out the window, hurt on his face. She immediately regretted her harsh words. He felt her gaze on himself, and looked over to her. She looked into his eyes and saw pain and humiliation. She tried to tell him through her eyes that she was sorry.
I am so sorry. Please, forgive me! Cannot you see that I regret my words! I need to talk to you, to learn about you. What are you like? Please tell me!
He stared at her. He saw not hate, not anything like that, but he saw self-regret and a need to...ask for his forgiveness? But I should be the one asking for forgiveness. He looked away, then back at her. And to her delight she saw the words: You should forgive me. I should be the one who is sorry. Please, allow me to explain myself. Please. She knew this was what he was thinking. But should not people who can communicate like this be compatible...her thoughts were blocked as Lady Catherine said, "Is it not, Miss Bennet?" She quietly nodded her head and returned her gaze to Mr. Darcy. She yearned to speak with him. She knew she would figure out a way. She had to.
Posted on Wednesday, 20 December 2000
Somehow the concept of getting out to go and work out any misunderstandings they had would simply be too difficult. Lady Catherine rambled on. Mariah looked terrified. Anne listened. Mr. Collins praised Lady Catherine (in his own slimy way) to the skies. Charlotte looked a bit jealous because of Mr. Collins praise being directed at the Lady and not his wife's. But then, she told herself, why would she want his praise anyway? The Colonel just smiled thoughtfully. Lizzy was annoyed, but drank her tea and answered Lady Catherine's questions politely. Darcy was embarrassed from his aunt's lack of propriety, but also at the same time amused.
The time went by. And then the visitors decided it would be best if they took their leave. So they did, and began to walk home. Lizzy was very disappointed that she had no chance to speak to Mr. Darcy. But, she thought, she might get a chance to speak to him later--and alone.
The walk took longer than Lizzy thought it would and so finally they reached the parsonage. Lizzy quickly sat down with a book while Mr. Collins talked to Charlotte and Mariah how wonderful Lady Catherine was. In about half an hour the maid came in and announced a visitor. The visitor was Mr. Wickham.
He used all his charms and inquired after their health. He explained that he was passing in this neighborhood on a trip and thought he remembered that Hunsford was the Collins' residence, and that Miss Bennet was staying here. He was offered tea and consented. Lizzy was a bit wary of talking to him. She knew that she was missing out on something that would explain his true character. She also knew that she would never have married Darcy if her opinion of Wickham remained good. But still--he didn't act any different than when they had last talked! The same charms and amiable ways. She began to warm up to him more than she had. And she was almost delighted when he asked her to take a turn in the garden with himself. Well, she thought, it is still light out. There is no impropriety in that. So she consented.
"I see you have visited Lady Catherine a few times on your visit." Wickham started off with.
"Yes, we have. And have enjoyed it to its limits." Wickham laughed a little.
"I am glad you enjoyed it." They walked a little further without saying anything.
"Have you seen Mr. Darcy on those occasions?" Wickham asked hastily. Lizzy was a little surprised, but she answered.
"Yes, a little."
"And has you opinion of him remained the same?" She was even more surprised. How would she answer that question? What DID she think of Mr. Darcy? She never truly asked herself that question.
"I believe he improves on closer acquaintance." She answered after thinking about it.
"Ah." He stopped walking and turned to face her. "Then, Miss Bennet, I believe I should tell you all I know about Mr. Darcy."
"Are you implying that you have never told me the whole story?" She asked with a twinge of fear that her good opinion of Mr. Darcy would turn out foolish.
"Yes. You see, I thought I could have warned you about his evil nature without giving all the details. But it looks to me that you have fallen for his traps. Believe me, Miss Bennet, it is not your fault. He has had years of experience with such cases as these." Lizzy was shocked. So was he saying...
"Pray, continue."
"To speak frankly, Miss Bennet, he is a seducer. He makes women think that he is in love with them in one glance. Then he obtains what he wants from the eager young women and leaves them in the dust, usually with a child. He has done so to so many women, Miss Bennet, and I would not like a sensible woman like you fall for it."
"But...how do...I mean..." Lizzy was speechless.
"How do I know for sure? The answer is simple. I caught him in the act." Lizzy near fainted. She gathered her wits as he continued.
"We were at Cambridge for our educations. I was walking to his chambers and caught him. He explained to me about his life like this. I believe he was drunk; otherwise he would have not told me. And so that is how I know." Lizzy could not say anything for she was too lost in her own thoughts. So they walked back to the parsonage and Wickham took his leave, his job done. He wanted to make sure that Lizzy would not obtain a good opinion of Mr. Darcy, as he knew that Darcy was at least impartial to her. He wanted to cause Darcy as much pain as he could. And so Lizzy fell asleep that night with a very bad opinion of Mr. Darcy.
Posted on Tuesday, 26 December 2000
The few days that Elizabeth had left to spend at Hunsford passed steadily. Every day Elizabeth's mind was occupied with Mr. Darcy, desperately trying to grasp his character. No matter how much she thought, walked, meditated, she could not understand it. Thus, her opinion of him sank. She no longer had hope of a new Mr. Darcy. He was just proud, conceited, and now a seducer. She hated to admit that fact to herself. But she prided herself in having a strong character and was determined to get him out of her mind.
But she could not. Every time she thought that he was out of her life, that she was wrong to hope, that he was a cruel man, a voice reminded her of her dream. The dream haunted her. She could hardly sleep. She wondered why she was acting like this, trying to find a reason to believe the dream and not Wickham. She could not find answers, and when Lizzy was left in the dark she tended to withdraw into herself.
She could tell from the few times she saw Mr. Darcy that he was deeply hurt from the way she was treating him. His own emotions were fighting with each other.
His mind told him that what he had seen that one night when she had dined at Rosings was a desperate attempt to talk to him, to hear him out. He had thought about writing her a letter explaining but decided that her bad opinion of him was so strong any attempts to show her what had really happened would have been in vain. But that one night, when she looked like she wanted to be on his side, all thoughts of merely dropping the subject and getting over her were thrown away. He had prepared to somehow talk to her the next day, when they came for tea. But when he looked at her he could see pain on her face. She felt him staring at her and looked at him. He then saw fire in her eyes, a look he had stirred many times before. And he was so confused. She looked at him as if trying to decide something, and the fire was almost extinguished, but she seemed to remember something and the dislike came back. She then looked away and didn't look back the rest of the afternoon. All his hope of changing his character in her eyes was then lost.
And so the days passed. The time finally came when Elizabeth and Maria's stay came to an end. So they left a cloud of dust and rode off in the carriage. For Darcy, the dust was his hope of telling her about his past: it rose, and then it fell, and dissolved into the ground. And he grieved, for he knew that Elizabeth Bennet was the only woman he could ever love. She was more than his equal, she was his superior. And now he could never defend himself from the charges laid at his door. He would never see her again. Knowing this, he left for Pemberley, where he could get joy from seeing his dear Georgiana. At least, he hoped he could know joy again. Because with his feelings for Elizabeth untouched since the day he proposed, he found it hard to believe he could think normally. For she was forever on his mind.
He was waiting. But waiting for what? He did not know.
The days had changed into weeks. The weeks had changed into months. And his feelings for Elizabeth grew stronger.
He knew that his sister was concerned for his welfare. She had told him one evening that he had not been himself ever since he had come home. But he simply told her he was fine, and though she disbelieved him, she let the matter drop. A week later she went to visit a friend for a few weeks. And so he was alone. Alone with the dream of Elizabeth.
One fine morning he finished his breakfast and decided to take a walk and think. He passed by a beautiful flowerbed and thought. And thought and thought.
In the end, he had come to many conclusions. He knew that he would never see Elizabeth again. He was grieved to make himself acknowledge this. But he did and went on. He knew that he needed a wife. No matter how much he yearned for Elizabeth to fulfill this task, he knew she would never have him. So that left him with two choices (for since he would never love his wife, choices they must be called): Caroline Bingley and his cousin, Anne DeBourgh.
He immediately dropped Caroline. And so he made a decision.
He would make all attempts to free his mind from Elizabeth. He would write his aunt. He would marry his cousin. He would have an heir. And that was that. That was the rest of his life.
He was sorrowed to realize that this was the life he had always despised. But he had made mistakes, and these were the consequences. He would bear them. It was he who had given Elizabeth the horrible proposal. It was he who had made his character mysterious, and not to his favor. So it would be he who would take the punishment. For, he thought, a marriage without love can never be anything but that. He walked slowly, slowly, back to the house.
My dear aunt,I hope you are well, as well as cousin Anne. My sister is off visiting a friend, so I am quite alone.
I must speak frankly. You have my permission, aunt, to make my engagement to Anne public. Even though I remind you that my parents agreed to no such thing, it is the honourable thing to do, I believe.
Please excuse the short letter, and accept my best wishes for yours and Anne's health and happiness.
FITZWILLIAM DARCY.
Posted on Sunday, 31 December 2000
Darcy looked at the letter for a long, long time. He knew his aunt would wonder at its briefness, but he did not care. For the Lord's sake, if running outside in just his breeches gave him a few fleeting moments of freedom away from his new life, then so be it! He would break the rules of propriety and never think twice. His life would be ten times more miserable than ridicule, anyway.
He let a broken sigh that spoke of defeat and sorrow escape his lips. Determined not to be weak and helpless, he quickly folded the letter, sealed it with wax, and stamped it with his seal. He signed his name. Then he jogged downstairs to find Mrs. Reynolds.
He found her in the gallery, instructing a servant how to properly clean marble. She heard him coming and walked over to him to await his orders. He looked up at her with glistening, sorrowful eyes.
"Yes, sir?" She asked him, worried about his appearance. He hesitated, realizing that this was his last chance for freedom. His letter was like a letter to God, telling Him that this was the life he wanted to lead.
"Sir?" She asked again. The servant looked up, wondering at his master's delay.
"Make sure that...that this letter gets to Lady Catherine, Mrs. Reynolds." He said quietly, his voice breaking ever so slightly. He placed the letter in her hands, then practically ran back up the stairs.
Mrs. Reynolds looked after his fleeting form, then gazed at the letter. Suddenly she realized what this letter might be.
"Oh, please, master, I hope you did not ruin your happiness." She whispered to herself. Then she turned on her heel to post the letter.
Darcy ran into his chamber and locked the door. Then he flung himself on his bed. He fought back the tears and wanted his mother and his father there to comfort him. But they did not come. He then remembered Elizabeth. And he cried harder.
Trying to fight back the winning tears made him exhausted. He soon fell into a deep sleep...
"Darling, where are you?" A female voice asked him. He couldn't make out who it belonged to. Then he remembered that he was engaged to Anne. He sighed.
"In here. The library." He replied. He heard the shuffling of feet and the swish of a dress. Then the door opened. He looked up to find the sickly face of his cousin but she was not there. Elizabeth was there instead! He was confused, but so happy.
"Fitzwilliam, is something the matter? You sound...tired?" She asked, walking over to him and hugging him. He placed his arms around her and sighed again, this time in contentment.
"No, it is just...business, that is all." She smiled up at him. He couldn't resist the urge to kiss her.
"You know, there is one desolate part for me about being married to you." She said, feigning seriousness. He laughed.
"Do tell me, and I shall do whatever I can to correct it."
"It is that you go on so many business trips, and that you cannot change, my love. But truly, I do not mind! It is just sometimes I feel like walking up to your steward and hitting him on the head!" She said. He laughed again, and she smiled.
"And there is one desolate part about me being married to you." He replied, smiling.
"Pray, what is that? Do I eat you out of house and home? Do I complain about every little speck of dust on the furniture?"
"No, nothing of the sort. The problem is the same as yours. I go on business trips, away from you." She grinned. No more words needed to be said.
Darcy sat straight up in bed. He looked outside. It was pitch black. Thunder struck. He ran a hand through his hair. Was it just a dream of what could have been? Or was it the...truth?
It did not seem like an ordinary dream. He remembered all the sounds, every little detail. Regular dreams were rather fuzzy; all you could remember was the main parts. And this was different. He knew that this was the life he wanted to live. The dream gave him hope. He then remembered his letter to his aunt.
He ran to his desk to see if he had given the letter to Mrs. Reynolds yet. In horror he realized he could not find it anywhere. Forgetting that this was the middle of the night, he ran to the servants' chambers.
"Mrs. Reynolds?" He said loudly, and waited. A few moments later, Mrs. Reynolds turned a corner to himself.
"Sir, what is it?" She asked nervously.
"Did you post the letter I gave to you today?" He asked quickly, praying that she hadn't. His prayers were in vain.
"Yes, sir, I did." She replied, knowing that it was what she had feared it was, and now that he had changed his mind, it was too late. He cursed under his breath. Servants were beginning to come out of their rooms, each with a candle piercing the dark. They stared. Mrs. Reynolds worried. And Darcy planned.
Posted on Sunday, 7 January 2001
Lady Catherine smiled to herself as she put down the short letter. She had thought twice about its briefness, but no matter. Her daughter was engaged to her nephew, the most eligible bachelor in England! She sighed as she realized her greatest wish would be fulfilled. Then she remembered that she had yet to tell Anne.
She told a servant to go and fetch her daughter as quickly as possible, to which the servant obliged. Soon Anne came shuffling into the great room, followed by Mrs. Jenkinson. Lady Catherine bade them sit and settled back into her throne. Mrs. Jenkinson tried to utter a word but Lady Catherine interrupted her.
"I have just received some wonderful news, of which concerns you, Anne." She started off with. Mrs. Jenkinson grinned at Anne, but Anne just looked bored.
"And what could this news be, mother?" Anne asked, not caring in the least.
"I have just received a letter from your dear cousin, Mr. Darcy." Lady Catherine paused, looking at Anne's expression. Anne looked confused at first, then realization dawned on her. Lady C. decided that this was enough encouragement and went on: "He starts off with asking after yours and my health. Always the gentleman, Fitzwilliam is. And then he writes to say that he wants yours and his engagement announced! He wants to marry you, Anne! He has finally respected the wish of his dear mother. All those years when he refused to marry you, he has really wanted to do so after all! Oh Anne, what wealth! You shall be the most esteemed lady in England!" Lady Catherine babbled on and on. Anne was just plain shocked. Why would her cousin do such a thing? She knew he did not love her. But surely he wasn't so stupid as to want to marry for honour, and not love? There must be some mistake! she thought. Another side of her said, "Forget it! He wants to marry you! All the riches you shall have! All the connections! Why should you worry about marrying for love? He is rich, Anne, rich!" Anne watched Mrs. Jenkinson squeal and hug her. Anne smiled weakly. "Oh, well..." she thought. And listened to her mother and Mrs. Jenkinson talk and talk about all the advantages of being married to Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Darcy had raced off to Rosings. It was a lengthy ride, but that did not matter. He had to stop the engagement! The ride would give him time to think.
He decided he would do whatever was necessary to stop the public from knowing. Hopefully his aunt was too busy babbling to Anne about the wedding plans to post a message on the newspapers. He smiled weakly at the thought.
Is the road to everyone's marriage this...rough? He asked himself. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, the carriage lurched into a pothole and out again, tossing him about in the process. He then answered his question: Only those who seek love in marriage have a rough ride. I just hope at the end of this road is Elizabeth. He laughed at himself for having such philosophic thoughts. He turned to look out the window. And for the millionth time, he saw her before him.
Darcy woke with a start. How long had he been sleeping? He looked out the window and saw Rosings not far ahead in the distance. His heart gave a start as he remembered what he was there for. He just hoped it was not too late.
The carriage entered the property of the great estate. Darcy quickly got out and walked quickly towards the huge door.
"Whatever do you mean, nephew?! You are engaged to Anne! You said as much yourself!!" Lady Catherine shrieked.
"Aunt." Darcy said, trying to be patient, "Did you put the message in the newspapers?"
"Of course I did!! And now, nephew, it is too late for you to go back on your word! What would your mother say?!?" Darcy took a deep breath.
"First of all she would say to me that she was disappointed that I was even willing to consider the thought of not marrying for love. She would scold me for acting in a rash manner. But then she would tell me that it was not too late, for I am NOT married to my cousin yet, nor do I want to be. I never did. I acted too quickly, and now I regret my actions. I am sorry, aunt, for causing you or Anne any pain, but please. I am determined to fulfill my mother's wishes...of only marrying for the deepest love." Lady Catherine was speechless. What?!? All that time she had rejoiced in his finally coming to his senses, he had acted rashly? He did not actually want to marry her daughter? No, she said to herself, he will not be let go yet!
"Nephew! I am most seriously displeased. What you have just done is lied to us! Nephew, you lied! Your mother would not wish for you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, to go back on your word, would she??" Lady Catherine hollered.
"She would not." Darcy replied. Lady Catherine looked pleased with herself. "But she would also know that marrying for love is far more important. If I must be ridiculed, then so be it, as long as I have married for love! I would not care. I would be so happy with my marriage, that what other people would say about Fitzwilliam Darcy The Liar would not matter!" He told her. Lady C. was once again speechless. Darcy was glad he could keep her mouth shut but saddened that it would be a risk trying to keep the news back from the public. He rose from his seat and was gone.