Mr Darcy’s Second Chance (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Prologue

“Lady Catherine, family, friends, I have the honour to announce my engagement to Miss Bennet.”

In the complete stillness that followed, Lady Catherine sighed most alarmingly and carried her hand to her heart, while all the others present, in greater or lesser degree, were unable to conceal their astonishment, their dismay, or even their indignation, as in the case of Mr Collins.

Colonel Fitzwilliam alone smiled, ready to offer his congratulations.

Elizabeth drove away the waking dream that had overtaken her upon entering the dining parlour at Rosings.

It was but a dream, since no later than that very morning she had refused, in the most decided terms, Mr Darcy’s offer of marriage.

She did not regret the refusal itself; still, a faint unease remained.

Her spirited temper was known in every society in which she moved.

Perhaps only her father knew that, though she did not shrink from a contest, she disliked exceedingly being uncivil or unkind.

That morning, to her regret, she had been both.

She would have wished to leave behind an impression of composure and command, if only for her own sake.

Unfortunately, the woman in the parlour at the Parsonage had possessed neither.

She had cried to him that he was the last man in the world whom she could ever be prevailed upon to marry. And it had been true.

Still, she could not help but imagine that impertinent smile erased from Lady Catherine’s countenance by Darcy’s declaration—by her own appearance at his side, his acknowledged betrothed, her future relation. That was her whole fancy, a small indulgence after so many affronts endured at Rosings.

“Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam are gone,” announced Lady Catherine, as though the intelligence required her authority, and she must, on every occasion, direct the discourse.

Elizabeth raised her eyes, having made her curtsey.

She met her ladyship’s gaze, and, unbidden, a faint smile arose at the image which only she could see, yet which afforded her some quiet satisfaction: herself upon Mr Darcy’s arm, entering that house as his intended.

What a disturbance it would have occasioned at Rosings, what indignation.

The strictures upon her parents, and upon her sisters, would have been repeated with greater force that very evening—too late, however, since she would already have secured the right to be named as his future wife.

A single “yes” might have altered everything.

But as she took her seat at table, awaiting dinner, another thought intruded.

She saw her father as he had accompanied her on the morning of her departure for Kent, his spectacles raised upon his brow, his expression so altered that even now, after two months, her heart contracted at the recollection.

There had been in his manner something worn, particularly since she and her sisters were grown.

With Longbourn entailed, and Mr Collins to succeed as its sole master should he be taken from his family, their situation could not be otherwise than desperate.

In all those years, he had not been able to improve their fortune in any degree, nor secure another home for them when they must one day quit Longbourn.

She could not deny it…a marriage with Mr Darcy would have removed those anxieties which weighed upon him: the future of his wife and daughters.

Their father’s encouragement to seek husbands for themselves might well have appeared madness in the case of five portionless girls who, by every prudent calculation, ought to have accepted the first offer that presented itself.

He had never spoken of love as the sole condition of marriage; that had been their own conclusion, or at least hers and Jane’s.

His advice had always been that they should examine and reflect upon an eventual proposal, which, in truth, meant understanding the man they married rather than only loving him.

A simple “yes,” spoken that morning, would have secured far more than a moment’s satisfaction against Lady Catherine, and it would have restored tranquillity to her father’s countenance.

She made an effort to dismiss the thought, to return to her former fancy, but it would not be recalled. Beneath the burden of her hostess’s interminable tirades, she forced her attention to the meal, but all at once she was no longer certain what was the true source of her regret.