Beginning, Section II

Jump to new as of September 24, 1999

Part VII

Posted on Friday, 25 June 1999

"Here boy! Samson! To heel, Samson!" Bingley waded determinedly against the current, calling intermittently to the recalcitrant pup with no discernible response.

"Samson?" There was another bark from up ahead. Just beyond this next bend, Bingley judged. He strode a little faster.

"Sa - " He rounded the corner abruptly and collided clumsily with an unexpected fellow water-pedestrian. They both lost their balance and slithered on the slippery stones beneath their feet, and managed to stay upright only by grasping each other and hanging on.

"I say, I'm most awfully - " Bingley blundered instantly into a hurried apology, before he was securely vertical. This proved to be a rather bad move, as it involved meeting the gaze of his partner in the accident. Meeting her gaze meant recognition, recognition meant extreme shock, extreme shock meant the loss of control of all mental and physical co-ordination.

He couldn't finish his sentence. He forgot to let go of her arms. He stared like a half-wit and he very nearly lost his balance all over again, which would have seen them both taking an unplanned bathe - one which Lady Catherine would not have approved at all.

Jane, fortunately for him, was hardly in better shape. It took her fifteen full seconds to manage a weak, "Mr. Bingley!"

Perhaps, if circumstances had been more conducive to coherent thought, she might have come up with something slightly more interesting to say. As it was, this was the only thing that came to mind, and after she had said it, conversation died again for another long moment. Finally, Mr. Bingley managed an equally inarticulate, and rather unoriginal - "Miss Bennet!"

After that, neither seemed able to break out of the conversational rut they had fallen into. Luckily, conversation was not really foremost in the mind of either at that moment.

Having put out her hands and grasped Mr. Bingley's coat to stop herself from falling, Jane's skirts were now trailing freely in the stream. She didn't notice. Having grasped her upper arms to balance them both, Bingley seemed to have forgotten that this service was no longer necessary as they were both quite capable of standing without the other's support. Yet his hands stayed where they were. In fact, the only part that they were doing right now was the 'gazing dumb-struck into each other's eyes' bit.

This they had perfect.

Just within sight, about twenty feet further upstream, Elizabeth grinned broadly. Entirely unobserved, she ducked out of sight again and hiked her skirts a little higher to run upstream until she made it back to the bank where Charlotte stood waiting with poorly concealed impatience.

"Well?" Demanded Charlotte, reaching out her hands to Lizzy as the girl flew up the gentle embankment, letting her skirts fall down around her wet ankles. Lizzie grasped both of Charlotte's hands in her own and shook them in excitement, smiling so wide her friend was concerned she might strain something.

"It's worked Charlotte, it's worked perfectly!! Oh, I'm so happy! Can you believe it? They're just downstream, they're staring into other's eyes, it couldn't have gone better if I had planned it!"

"Lizzy," Charlotte reminded her, smiling all the while, "You did plan it."

Lizzie laughed delightedly, and spun her friend in a quick victorious circle. Charlotte couldn't help but join in.

Posted on Thursday, 8 July 1999

Lizzy and Charlotte hurried up the embankment and found their way back to the path. Their intention was to find Mr. Darcy and the Colonel and inform them that their plotted rendezvous would no longer be necessary. It wouldn't do at all if the gentlemen were to go blundering up-stream looking for Bingley! No, they must be warned, and told the good news!

It wasn't too difficult to find where the men fished. A smaller, worn track in the grass diverged from the main path through the woods, meandering down another, even steeper embankment towards the creek.

Charlotte stopped at the top of the embankment, and looked doubtfully at the steep track. "I don't think I can get down there in these boots, Lizzy." She fretted.

"Nonsense!" Chided Lizzy heartily, "Watch me!" And without waiting for a caution, she skipped over the edge and hurtled recklessly as a child down the slope, arms held out for balance.

"Lizzy!" Called Charlotte in spontaneous concern, but Lizzy didn't stop until she reached the bottom, safe and sound. Then she turned around and grinned triumphantly at Charlotte. "See?" She called cheekily, "It's easy. Are you coming?"

Charlotte shook her head hurriedly. "Certainly not!"

Lizzy shrugged. "I'll be back in a moment then. I'll just run down and tell the gentlemen about Bingley and Jane."

Darcy heard her footsteps first, and looked up from his line to see his vision of love come tripping through the trees towards him, smiling radiantly. Fitzwilliam, who had his back to her, did not realise she was there until he saw Darcy's fixed, longing stare.

He turned, and saw her approach. "Miss Bennet!" He called in welcome, pleasantly surprised.

"Good morning, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr. Darcy." She called back, still smiling broadly and nodding to them both, "I have wonderful news!" She came to a stop beside the stream. "It seems my sister and your are quite capable of directing their own fates without our orchestration! Can you guess what has happened?"

And she went on the explain in glowing words what had transpired mid-stream. She came to end of her tale to receive the hearty congratulations and victorious effusions of her accomplices in the conspiracy.

"Come, let us pack up these absurd props and head back to Rosings for a celebratory tea," cried the Colonel, snapping closed his fishing tackle box. "Where is Mrs. Collins? She must be included in this!"

Elizabeth gladly told him where Charlotte waited for them, and turned to follow Fitzwilliam when someone else gently caught her arm. She paused, then turned back.

"Miss Bennet, I would fain speak with you," Darcy whispered softly. "Will you hear me out?"

Elizabeth's beaming smile had disappeared the moment she felt the alarming jolt of sensation which shot down her spine whenever this man made contact.

She had half-expected this scenario, but had not allowed herself to consider it seriously. Since his devastating confession to her the other day, she had avoided any confrontation with her true feelings. It was a shock to discover just how deeply she felt about him - just how vulnerable she was, how easily he could hurt her. The painful intensity of her own emotions had driven her into hiding.

Now as she looked into his eyes she saw a burning light that almost frightened her. Instantly she shied away from such disturbing depth of feeling.

"Not now, Mr. Darcy." She whispered back primly, then pulled pointedly from his touch and followed the Colonel back up the path.

Darcy watched her, his expression impassive and stony. Only his eyes bore witness to his anguish, and it was some moments before the suffocating constriction of his heart abated enough for him to follow the others.

Elizabeth walked alone through the peaceful twilight. The sweet summer skies had dimmed and softened into dusk, but the evening was warm. Lizzy's shawl - unnecessary, but pressed upon her by Charlotte - dragged a corner in the dust. She did not notice. Her thoughts were far away.

So Jane was to become Mrs. Bingley. Lizzy couldn't help the small smile which lifted the corner of her mouth when she remembered her sister's glowing face that morning.

"Oh Lizzy, I'm so happy! I do not deserve it! How shall I bear so much happiness?"

And then.... "...If only I could see you as happy. If there were only such another man for you..." Though Lizzy had replied with some light-hearted quip, those words had echoed in her mind. There was another man for me, she thought soberly, but he did not make me happy...

Mr. Darcy had not attempted to speak with her again all day, but not even this could elicit in her a simple, undivided response. Part of her was glad of it, the other half reeled in disappointment.

You stop this, Elizabeth Bennet! She reprimanded herself sharply. Make a decision, one way or another. What is it you feel? This is nothing but foolish coquetry, all this indecisiveness. You are being fair to no one. Do you love him or don't you?

Another part of her wailed a desperate response - "I don't know!!"

Elizabeth gritted her teeth in frustration with herself. Well, she thought ruthlessly. If I 'don't know' then I can't love him. I'm sure that if I were in truly love with him I would know it for certain!

There was logic in that, she reflected calmly. And that meant -

The thought was cut short by the sound of pounding hooves coming along the path towards her. Swiftly, Elizabeth stepped off the path, keeping out of harm's way.

The horse and rider came into view. The animal had apparently been badly spooked, for it galloped now like a bat out of hell, its hooves practically sparking the flint on the road surface and the rider all but obscured from a grounded observer by its streaming mane. Though she was careful not to make any sudden movements which might startle the frantic creature, it seemed to sense her as it passed. Without warning, it shied to the left, then bucked violently and reared.

Elizabeth watched in horror as the rider convulsed with the sudden bucking of the animal. Then the force of its bulk rearing up and back tossed him like a rag doll into the grass by the road side.

Freed of its encumbrance, the horse resumed its mad gallop and the pounding of its hooves faded into the distance. Elizabeth was not interested in its getaway. Her heart brimming with dread and concern, she ran to the crumpled figure and placed a gentle hand on an unresponsive shoulder.

"Sir?" She inquired quickly, "Sir, are you all right?" She rolled him gently onto his back, and with a groan the man's arm, flung up in a gesture of defense, fell away from his face.

Elizabeth's gasp was barely audible, but the shock to her system was shattering. Her lips barely moved but her heart screamed the words...

"Mr Darcy!!"

Posted on Friday, 30 July 1999

"Mr. Darcy! Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth patted his cheeks frantically and ineffectually - his face had turned a terrifying shade of grey. Nauseous horror thickened her throat. Was he dead? Please God, don't let him be dead!

With clumsy, unsteady hands she pulled at his cravat, loosening the taut white folds and pressing two trembling fingers to the base of his throat.

Nothing.

Elizabeth could have screamed. Perhaps she did. She was barely conscious of anything but the man lying unresponsive in the grass before her.

Thankfully the moment of terror was not long extended. She shifted her probing fingers a little higher up and an avalanche of sweet relief such as she had never known overwhelmed her as she was rewarded by the steady pulsing thuds of a strong heart-beat.

And yet he did not wake. Why not?!

"Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth lowered her voice and managed a stricken, "Fitzwilliam?"

An eyelid flickered, and her heart leapt. "Fitzwilliam, please..." She whispered again, leaning closer over him. A hot tear over-spilled her eye, and dropped unnoticed onto his lips.

There was an eternity of silence as she held her breath. What if he... No! He had to wake! He had to.

And...

...He did.

Again his eyelids flickered, and then opened. Elizabeth made an explosive sound somewhere between a sob and a burst of joyous laughter, her hands moving unrestrainedly to cup his face and stroke back his tousled curls.

"Oh thank God, thank God..." She was gasping and crying in earnest now.

"Elizabeth?" His voice was groggy and disorientated. He blinked hard at this astonishingly realistic vision, but it did not fade as the others had before.

"What happened?"

"I - your horse - " she struggled to contain the near-hysterical effects of the shock she had received, "Horse reared - fell - I thought - but you're not - "

"Horse? Oh..." He laboured into a sitting position, groaning softly. "I remember..."

Elizabeth pressed a hand to her heart and closed her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to breath deeply, although tears continued to stream down her cheeks.

"Elizabeth?" Now he was concerned. "Are you well?"

She couldn't help smiling through her tears at that. "Yes!" She replied, a little breathlessly, "I am quite well, I assure you. It's just that I thought... I mean, for a moment then you - " And then she had to stop and bite her lip for fear of breaking down all over again.

Darcy was at a loss. Did she mean that the tears he still tasted on his lips had been wept for him? Because she feared for him?

"I'm sorry," she whispered, embarrassed now by her unguarded outburst, "It's just that I didn't realise how deep my feelings ran until I thought you might... you might..."

"Die?" He supplied quietly, still somewhat bemused.

Elizabeth nodded miserably, dabbing ineffectually at her tears with the corner of her shawl.

Darcy half-smiled and pulled out his handkerchief. Handing it to her, he whispered, "I would not leave you. Don't you remember? I promised you I would come to your door every day until the day you agreed to marry me!"

Elizabeth took the offered handkerchief, but her hand froze lifted half-way to her face. She looked into his eyes.

"I will not accept such a promise!" She stated fiercely. For a moment he looked taken a-back. "Make me a promise that you will love me every day until the day I die, and then I will be satisfied! Say that you can forgive me for being stubborn and blind and then say - "

"Elizabeth, I will love you every day until the day I die, and forgive you for being stubborn and blind."

"You didn't let me finish!"

"Oh. Do please continue..."

"And then say - 'Miss Bennet, I know you will love me until the day I die and I know you forgive me for being proud and interfering. Will you marry me?' "

"Elizabeth, I - "

"Say it!"

His expression suffused with joy, he repeated his lines dutifully, all but the last four words.

Here he paused, and struggled up onto one knee beside her in the grass. He took both her hands in his.

"Miss Bennet, would you be willing to do me the very great honour..." He took a deep breath, "Of becoming my wife?"

Her face was blotchy and tear-stained, and yet she still managed to appear absolutely radiant as she smiled beatifically at him.

She felt like shouting her unhesitating response, but somehow it came out no louder than a tiny, heart-felt whisper: "Yes!"

Finale

Posted on Friday, 24 September 1999

To own the truth, the thought that there might be those among their acquaintance who would not be overjoyed by the afternoon's events never really entered Darcy's head. Who could spare thoughts for Lady Catherine when coherent thinking wasted time which could be spent stealing sweet kisses and planning a fairy-tale future?

It was not until they arrived at the front steps of Rosings, laughing and blissfully oblivious to the ominous bulk of brown silks at the head of the stairway, that they even registered where they were.

"Why are we here?" Lizzy asked, managing to tear her eyes away from his for the first time, and looking around in surprise at the stately mansion.

"I'm not sure - we should have walked to the Parsonage first, shouldn't we. Ah well, I can't say I was paying any particular attention to where I was going - far too distracted!" He smiled with blinding charm, and held out his arm to his blushing fiancee. "Shall we walk back, then?" He inquired, with exaggerated courtesy.

"NO you shall not walk back! Fitzwilliam!" The steely voice from behind caused the couple to start and turn back. Lady Catherine's rage-blotched face clashed horribly with her gown, but it had never been an entirely tasteful ensemble anyway, so no real harm was done, fashion-wise.

"What can you be thinking, Nephew," she continued beratingly, "To escort this little miss about the country-side as though you had serious designs upon her! Why it's simply scandalous! I'd expect you to know better than to smear the family name with connections to a girl with no family, connections or fortune! Her marriage prospects are not even comparable to Miss De Bourgh's! You, Miss Bennet, should have married Mr. Collins as was originally planned. No doubt you hope to do better, but you'll live to regret your mistakes. For WHO would connect themselves to such a family as yours?"

Lizzy, although initially startled by the attack, rallied admirably. Darcy's skin had flushed a shade redder and he was opening his mouth to reply when Lizzy gestured him into silence. "Lady Catherine," she called back sweetly, "Your attention to me and to my family is highly gratifying. I can not help feeling, however, that such business as this should be conducted indoors in some private parlour, and not screeched from the doorway for all the servants to witness. Forgive me if my belief is outmoded, your Ladyship, but I was raised to understand such behaviour to be unbefitting of a truly well-bred gentlewoman."

Lady Catherine's complexion grew even blotchier as her furtive gaze did indeed observe groundstaff, who had appeared apparently from no where, hovering curiously around what looked to be a fascinating scene. But it was too late to move indoors now, as it would be conceding to the country wench's point, which could not be allowed to happen!

"Fitzwilliam," she cried, conveniently choosing to ignore Elizabeth for the moment, "Kindly explain yourself! Why are you allowing yourself to be drawn in by this artful little chit's arts and allurements."

For a moment, Elizabeth thought Darcy would lose his temper with his aunt, but when she squeezed his hand reassuringly, he seemed to bring himself sufficiently under control to say, "I would request, Lady Catherine, that you please reflect and consider before maligning my fiancee in such a manner again." He spoke those two words especially loud, so that they echoed about the gardens for all the servants to hear. He knew the news would be all over London before the sun set twice. Good. Let the world know.

If circumstances had been different, Elizabeth would have been most alarmed to witness a person's entire face turn purple in a matter of seconds.

"Fitzwilliam!" She was beginning to sound strangled, "What of Anne? You can not betray your engagement to Anne!"

"Aunt, listen to me, and listen very carefully," Darcy spoke slowly, clearly and unmistakably, "I am not engaged to my cousin. I never was engaged to my cousin. I never will be engaged to my cousin. I am engaged to Miss Bennet. We marry before the Summer fades. Accept this or reject it, it makes scarce little difference to me, or to Elizabeth."

He didn't seem to be getting through. "Fitzwilliam, I command to take your arm off that little squire's daughter before I - "

"Before you what, Lady Catherine?" Lizzy asked wearily, growing heartily tired of the woman's obtuseness, "Why not just accept that we love each other, and that is all that matters to us. For we will marry. After all, he is gentleman, I am gentleman's daughter. So far we are equal!"

Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed. "But who was your mother?" She hissed, "Who were your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition!"

"If I do not object to them," Darcy injected curtly, "I do not see what they can be to you! And now that you have delivered your distasteful insults in front of your scandal-hungry audience," Darcy acknowledged the crowd of servants, "Miss Bennet and I shall take our leave. By the way, aunt, next time my wife-to-be offers you advice on 'gentlewomanly behaviour', I suggest you take it. You may just find superior breeding where you least expect to."

And with that, they were gone, leaving Lady Catherine to rave alone. And though she was in a foul mood for the rest of the month, the servants still felt the entertaining scene they had witnessed was ample compensation.

In the very first piece of mail she received as "Mrs. Darcy", Elizabeth found a double-delight. The letters were brought up the Master suite on a silver platter alongside their breakfast, and not only was there the joy of seeing the letter addressed to "Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley", but there was laughter to be had as she opened and read the short missive.

Dear Mrs. Darcy,

I can never adequately express my thanks to you for saving me from a marriage to my cousin. I would have you know that I have never borne you any ill will over the affair, but am rather deeply indebted to you.

I am, and always have been, in love with the junior footman, Humphery. We elope tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Yours sincerely,
Anne de Bourgh.

When her husband demanded to know what it was she found so amusing, Elizabeth was quite happy to relinquish the letter to him so that she could see his reaction.

"Well, I never! Little Anne! Who would have thought?" His shocked amusement was obvious. He read the letter again, then frowned. "'Saving me from marriage to my cousin,' she says! Good Lord, she really didn't want to marry me!"

"Never mind, dear," Elizabeth replied, smiling broadly, "I did!"

He regarded her speculatively. "Well, even you required considerable convincing."

She laughed freely at that. "I did indeed!" She replied, throwing her arms around his neck. "Now convince me again so I can be sure I didn't make a mistake and shouldn't be running off with the stable-hand as we speak!"

So he did.

Two hours later, he rolled over and asked if he had been persuasive enough to 'convince' her that she should stay.

She smiled again and stretched out her hand. "Oh yes. Just remind me regularly of those points we just brought up and I'm sure I shall be eternally grateful that we renewed our acquaintance!"

They both laughed then, and knew it was going to be another perfect day.