Page 44 of Fortuitous Encounters

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.”

Darcy could see the wisdom of this suggestion but was not entirely ready to admit defeat just yet. He had not been deceiving himself in his estimation—Elizabeth Bennet was surely the most intelligent woman he had ever met, and possibly the cleverest person altogether. With nothing but her father’s library and her curiosity, she had more wit and intelligence than most of the men who graduated Cambridge. She was also obviously honourable and not mercenary, as she was turning down the richest man she was ever likely to meet, despite being in a deplorable situation with four sisters and an entailed estate. She was not bending to his will, despite being obviously afraid of him, and he began to see she feared more from him than violence. She must know that she and her sisters could well end up in genteel poverty because of her rejection of his suit. She remained civil and polite despite many provocations, and being fearfully angry. Despite all that, she held true to herself and her principles. He thought he had admired her when he entered the parsonage, but now he saw there was much more to her than he had thought. She obviously found him wanting, but he could not understand why. This could be his only chance to learn the error of his ways that he might correct himself in the future, and he intended to take it.

“Should you insist, I will depart immediately; but if you could possibly indulge me, I would like to know the reason for your rejection. I honestly thought you to be awaiting my addresses and was quite surprised at being thus denied. An answer is not demanded by honour, nor clearly by your inclination, but I would beg it of your charity that you might allow me to improve myself through your wisdom. Please tell me where I went wrong.”

Elizabeth sighed, reasoning through the smallest and least offensive thing she could say to make the man go away.

“Until a half hour ago, I was quite certain that we were in perfect understanding as to our mutual and long-standing dislike, going back to the very beginning of our acquaintance. I even went out of my way to inform you where I walked so you could avoid me. The bulk of your speech seemed designed to emphasise your dislike of me, and I had no idea of any regard. I apologise that I cannot return it. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope it will be of short duration. Please again accept my appreciation of the honour of your address, and let us say no more on this matter.’’

Darcy thought upon this for a short time but was still unprepared to give up. He was nothing if not persistent, and not easily dissuaded from his chosen course. Perhaps obstinacy was his most pressing defect.

“I find it difficult to understand how you came to that conclusion. Could you possibly grant me the boon of more specifically telling me how I went wrong, so that I may improve myself? My character clearly requires improvement, but I cannot correct myself without your assistance.”

Such a question left Elizabeth stunned and unsure what to do. That such a man might admit to fault and a desire to improve himself was strange indeed, and somewhat humbling. To think that such a great man might be capable of self-correction was nearly unimaginable. That he might do so on her behalf was so far beyond anything she could comprehend that she decided it best to avoid such thoughts. She was, however, quite well aware of how precarious her position still was, and felt that offending such a man was unquestionably not in her best interests. What was the best way to escape the untenable situation? Should she answer honestly and risk offending him, or demur once again and hope he forgot his request?

“Might I just say that I do not like the circles surrounding you, and may we please leave it at that?”

Darcy considered this for a minute, but could find no understanding except that this was complete and utter nonsense. However, Elizabeth—for he had long since thought of her as such—would not make such an impertinent statement without having something to back it up. He was certain she had an answer, equally certain he would not like it in the least, and desperately determined to learn what it was.

“That answer confuses more than helps, madam. Might I beg for a more detailed explanation?”

Elizabeth grew entirely frustrated, and her temper, long held in check only by the barest of threads, broke loose like a white-hot flame. She was tired of being afraid, tired of being looked down on, tired of being insulted, tired of dancing to his tune, tired of his undesired presence in this room—tired of him entirely. With one last desperate grasp, she tried to slow what was coming, believing it would not be to her benefit.

“I fear that elaboration would cause us both pain, and I believe it is not possible to do so with even a modicum of civility. I cannot believe you wish to hear the things I have to say, but if you insist upon it, I demand of your justice that you listen all the way through without comment or interruption, and give me your word as a gentleman that you will take no retribution if I am entirely uncivil.”

“It pains me to learn I acquitted myself so poorly that you feel the need to demand that I behave as a gentleman, but you have my word. I am obviously not the man I thought I was, and it is crucial that I be allowed to learn from your counsel.”

Elizabeth had become angry with both him and herself for allowing her temper to paint her into a corner. Had she held her tongue for only a few more minutes, Mr Darcy would be gone, they would never see each other again, and she would not be forced to say that which her honour demanded. However, as he well knew, her sense of justice demanded that she now provide the requested explanation.

“Very well, I will expand, but I assure you that you will not like it, sir. Might I offer one more opportunity to avoid this unpleasantness?”