Chapter 1
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Upon hearing the words, Elizabeth Bennet was ready to scream.
How many degrading and insulting proposals was she meant to endure?
Mr Collins' prediction of never receiving another proposal certainly did not hold true with two in four months, but such a proposal!
It was not to be endured! Her anger rising, she started to address him.
“I might as well enquire, why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character?”
Elizabeth stopped abruptly. Her anger was nearly ready to overwhelm her, and she was quite prepared to make her displeasure known in no uncertain terms, but something caused her to pause cautiously.
She knew from his own words that he was a man of implacable resentments, whose good opinion once lost was lost forever.
She had heard that from his own lips in Netherfield, and had no reason to doubt what happened when people angered him.
He had denied Mr Wickham his living purely out of spite and jealousy.
Lastly, she had the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam regarding Jane that Darcy would take it upon himself to break relationships when they did not satisfy his desires, regardless of the sentiments of those involved.
Altogether, she had three alternative sources about what happened to people who crossed Mr Darcy, and wondered if she might receive similar misfortunes.
It was without question unwise to anger such a powerful man with such a well-known bad temper.
The consequences he could rain down upon her with a word or a gesture were incalculable and nothing she wished to suffer.
With this in mind, she decided it would be much more prudent to temper her response, fall back on propriety and civility, and try to avoid any further censure or retribution.
It would be difficult, for speaking her mind would be quite satisfying for a time; but doing so would not be to her ultimate advantage.
She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. Striving for the utmost composure, she answered him as calmly, politely, and civilly as possible.
“Mr Darcy—I have always done my very best to be civil with you, your family, and your friends. If my reply lacks civility, pray accept my apologies so we might put this unfortunate conversation behind us. I have no desire to offend you, sir, so might I request that we end this interview at this point. You have my most sincere gratitude for the kindness and honour of your address, but I believe we have nothing more to say to each other.”
Mr Darcy took this non-answer as another incivility. He stood straighter, walked towards where she was sitting, and said angrily, “I beg to differ, madam! That is not really an answer, or a reason for your rejection. Might I kindly ask for more of an explanation?”
Elizabeth was becoming somewhat frightened.
Mr Darcy at the best of times was a formidable and intimidating person.
His great height and strength might ordinarily have made him the most handsome man of her acquaintance; but his forbidding countenance and deplorable manners now made him truly terrifying.
He had walked from the fireplace to tower over her, and Elizabeth unconsciously shrunk back into herself.
She tried to make her presence even smaller and less offensive, desperately hoping he would just go away, while surreptitiously eyeing the door and wondering if she could run through it quickly before he could react.
Darcy, despite his heightened anger, noticed her lack of composure and thought back to the last few minutes of conversation with some mortification.
She actually looked frightened! He examined his posture and countenance, and saw how it could be so.
Had he really looked as if he might physically threaten a tiny young woman he professed to love?
This was unpardonable! How had he gone so far astray?
He tried to soften his features, and asked with some shock, but as softly as he could, “Are you afraid of me, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth always maintained that her courage rose at every effort to intimidate her, but had to admit that was not the case. She had learnt the hard way that she had simply never before been exposed to the situation that could produce genuine fear.
Her reply was little more than a whisper. “Yes sir.”
The answer filled Darcy with dismay. He did his best to soften his countenance as much as he possibly could, pulled a chair in front of her, and sat so that he might not loom over her like an Old Testament god.
He was desperate to know exactly how he had gone astray, not only with his proposal but his entire pursuit.
It had obviously gone disastrously wrong, perhaps right from the beginning.
She clearly had no understanding of his character whatsoever if she was physically afraid of him, so he was desperate to know how he came to this position.
Was he always so frightening? Was he frightening to other people?
Was she intimidated by his wealth and station?
Did he go through the world somehow making people fear him?
Those questions disturbed him beyond measure, but they were not the problem of the day, and if there was one thing Fitzwilliam Darcy could do, it was to focus on the problem at hand.
He said as softly as he could, “Eliza… er, Miss Bennet—pray accept my deepest and humblest apologies. I know not what I have done to make you so frightened, but please rest assured on my honour that you have nothing to fear from me, now or ever. I would never harm you in any way, nor allow another to do so if it is within my power to prevent it, regardless of what we say to each other tonight.”
Elizabeth took several moments to calm herself and take in this statement.
The always-formidable Mr Darcy whispering so softly and gently was disconcerting to say the least. She was ashamed she thought so little of his honour that she feared he would assault her.
She still disliked him but had never received any sign he was violent.
What about the man gave her such strong reactions?
These were not merely the reactions to a man who had made such an abominable proposal, but something deeper, which would require some leisure to understand—at another time.
For now, she just needed to get him out of the room.
“Mr Darcy—I apologise for the implicit question of your honour that my fears brought up. You are an intimidating man looming over me like that, and I was briefly frightened, but I have no belief that you are violent. Pray accept my apologies and let us speak of it no further. Let us just be done with it. Good evening to you, sir.”
If he walked out the door, he would probably never see Elizabeth Bennet again, and he would certainly never be allowed another private conversation.
The idea filled him with enough anguish that he decided to make one more desperate attempt at an answer.
He spent a minute gathering his thoughts, reviewing everything he had said since entering the room.
When he reflected on his words, he found much wanting.
He was quite impressed that Miss Bennet had received such a deplorable address without throwing things, or worse yet taking his hide off with her wit—which she was perfectly capable of.
In fact, when he thought carefully, he could see that she was prepared in the beginning to let loose the full and probably considerable fury of her voice, but something—apparently fear—had checked her.
She was still extremely angry, trembling and nearly unable to speak, but doing her best to hold it inside and patiently waiting for him to leave. She also looked as if she had very little patience in reserve, and he must tread very carefully—but he could not walk away just yet.
“Miss Bennet—your reaction has caused me to review the past minutes in my mind, and I am now filled with extreme shame. I believed you to be awaiting my addresses and proceeded to insult you, your family, and your situation in life whilst professing love and admiration. I cannot think of it without mortification. It is impossible to reconcile my behaviour with the man I wish to be.”
He reflected a moment and said, “Until this very moment, I never knew myself,” and with that, his countenance shifted into a state of deep internal reflection.
Elizabeth was relieved his anger had dissipated, as he sat in a less threatening manner. She was still not sanguine about her position and hoped for a speedy and appropriate end to the discussion.
“Pray think no more of it. We both know that after you walk through the door, we need never see each other again. I will return to Hertfordshire, and you will never return to Netherfield. Our paths in town will certainly never cross. I will remain away from the parsonage tomorrow morning that you might take your leave of the Collins family, and we may end this unfortunate acquaintance here and now. I ask you to extend my regards to Colonel Fitzwilliam. I thank you once again for the honour of your addresses, and please accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”