Page 46

"Excuse me, sir, but I do not understand," Elizabeth replied, her voice strained with confusion.

She did not comprehend what was happening and wished only to end the conversation as soon as possible.

"I know this must be difficult to grasp," Mr. Darcy replied, his tone softer.

"I am aware that my behaviour has led you to believe I could never feel such regard.

Yet, over the months we have spent under the same roof, my initial admiration has grown into something far deeper.

I have long valued your intelligence and spirit, but it was your compassion and guidance towards my sister that revealed the true depth of your character to me.

" He paused, steadying his breath before continuing with what he felt was the most crucial part of his confession.

He wished Elizabeth to understand the full weight of what he was offering.

"Believe me, this decision has not come easily.

I am not ignorant of the vast differences in our stations—indeed, such a union is scarcely encouraged for a man in my position.

But despite it all, I have chosen to set aside pride, apprehension, and societal expectation to ask you—would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?

" Mr. Darcy finished with a sense of resolution.

He had at last spoken what he had long carried in silence and awaited her reply with anxious hope, yet confident his proposal would be favourably received.

"In such circumstances," Elizabeth began, her voice composed but cold, "I believe the custom is to express gratitude for the offer made.

But I cannot. The affection you claim cannot be as strong as you suppose if it has taken you this long—and such struggle—to declare it.

And your regard for me, however genuine, ought not to be founded upon my service as a companion to your sister.

" She spoke with frankness, for she had no desire to remain another moment in his company.

Mr. Darcy, taken aback, felt a sudden rush of disbelief and indignation.

He had not anticipated a rejection—certainly not one so direct, nor so full of disdain.

"Do you not think, Miss Bennet," he said tightly, "that you owe me some explanation for such a curt refusal?

" "And what would you have me say, Mr. Darcy?

" she replied, her eyes blazing. "That I could never love a man who views me as so far beneath him, that to offer for my hand must be a sacrifice to be justified?

Or would you prefer I confess I could never accept a man who deemed my sister unworthy of his friend's affection?

" Her voice trembled with controlled fury.

"From the very beginning, I was appalled by your pride—your disdain for those you consider beneath you.

And all my suspicions were confirmed when Mr. Wickham told me of the cruelty with which you treated him.

.." "Wickham?" Mr. Darcy's voice broke in, sharp with anger.

"Miss Bennet, I must insist that you never speak to me of that scoundrel again.

That man is beneath contempt and undeserving of your sympathy.

" He struggled to contain his outrage. That she had trusted Wickham's word over his own stung more than he cared to admit.

"I had every reason to act as I did regarding my friend and your sister, though I doubt you could understand them.

And in any case, she is now married—so the matter is irrelevant.

" "You are quite right, sir. My sister is indeed fortunate to have found a husband who respects and cherishes her.

But I must ask you not to speak of her—or my family—any further.

I know well enough what you think of them.

" "I was not aware, Miss Bennet, that you possessed the gift of reading minds," Mr. Darcy replied, his tone bitter.

"Must I remind you, sir?" Elizabeth countered sharply.

"Will you deny that you consider my mother and sisters beneath your regard?

Or that you find my uncle unworthy of your notice simply because of his profession?

You have made your opinions perfectly clear—most especially in your declaration.

I am sorry, but I believe it would be best for us to stop wasting one another's time with this absurd conversation.

" "You are correct, Miss Bennet. I thank you for your candour.

" His voice was now calm and composed. "You need not worry—I shall not trouble you again with my sentiments that seem so disgusting to you.

Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to Rosings to dine with my family.

" And with that, Mr. Darcy turned and walked away, leaving Elizabeth standing alone in the lane.

She remained motionless, uncertain what to do next.

Though she had spoken with confidence, her emotions were anything but calm.

Despite herself, tears welled in her eyes, and moments later, she broke into a run, heading toward the meadow.

She had no desire to return to the parsonage until she had composed herself.

Unfortunately, the sky had darkened, and within minutes, heavy rain began to fall.

Elizabeth sought shelter beneath the trees, but the downpour was relentless, and she was soon soaked to the skin.

Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy walked without aim, lost in thought.

He reproached himself bitterly for confessing his feelings to a woman who, it now seemed, had never truly cared for him.

That she had believed Wickham's falsehoods wounded him deeply.

He had been so certain of her affection that her rejection struck a blow to his pride and heart alike.

Yet, in his fury and disappointment, he was blind to any reflection on his own conduct since their acquaintance began.

By the time he reached Rosings, Mr. Darcy was drenched.

His arrival did not go unnoticed—Lady Catherine, having been watching from the window, met him the moment he entered the house, ready to unleash her indignation.

"Darcy, I am astonished! You disappear without notice and return an hour later, soaked to the bone.

It is high time you remember your station and begin to act like a Darcy—fulfilling your duties to this family!

" "My duty to this family?" he repeated, weary beyond words.

"I sincerely hope, Lady Catherine, that you are not questioning the dedication I have shown since assuming the responsibilities of Pemberley.

I have worked tirelessly in support of both our family and the Matlocks.

" "You know very well what I mean," she snapped.

"I am afraid I do not, Aunt," he replied, his patience worn thin.

"Then I shall speak plainly—and I trust I shall not have to repeat myself.

Before you leave for London, we shall set the date for your wedding.

This time, I shall not permit you to avoid the matter any longer.

" "I was under the impression that we had discussed this on numerous occasions, and that you were well aware of my stance," he said coldly.

"But since you appear to have forgotten, allow me to make myself perfectly clear: I shall never marry Anne.

Neither she nor I wish for such a union, and there is nothing you—or anyone—can do to force me to do it.

" "DARCY, I SHALL NOT ALLOW—" The argument had reached such a pitch that Georgiana, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Anne, seated in the drawing room, could hear every word.

Fortunately, the Collinses had returned home by that time.

"I am sorry, Lady Catherine, but I shall retire to my chambers.

Please do not wait for me at dinner; I shall have my valet bring something to my room," he said firmly.

"I AM NOT FINISHED WITH YOU, YOUNG MAN!" "But I am," he answered flatly.

"There is nothing more to be said." At that moment, Georgiana and Richard entered the room, quickly interceding to distract Lady Catherine and allow Mr. Darcy to retreat upstairs.

Anne, meanwhile, could not help but smile to herself, thinking that her plan had worked rather well.

Upon reaching his bedchamber, Mr. Darcy removed his wet garments and collapsed onto the bed, utterly defeated.

Only hours ago, he had believed himself on the verge of attaining the happiness he had long sought—peace, love, and contentment.

Now, he felt lonelier and more miserable than ever before.

Back at the parsonage, Mr. Collins was enthusiastically praising the wisdom and generosity of Lady Catherine, oblivious to all else, while Charlotte paced by the window in growing distress.

One of the maids had informed her that Elizabeth had gone out walking, but the rain had not ceased, and darkness had nearly fallen.

At last, nearly two hours later, Elizabeth stumbled back into the house, drenched and shivering from the cold.

Providence, however, was on her side—for Mr. Collins had locked himself in his study, composing Sunday's sermon under the guidance of his esteemed patroness.

"Elizabeth, where have you been?" Charlotte asked, rushing to her friend's side.

"I am sorry, Charlotte," Elizabeth said through chattering teeth.

"I went for a walk... and lost my way in the storm.

" "Let us go to your bedroom before my husband notices anything amiss.

Take off those wet clothes and come to my chamber—you may warm yourself and dry your hair by the fire.

In the meantime, I shall ask the cook to prepare a hot bowl of soup for you.

" "Thank you, Charlotte," Elizabeth murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"There is nothing to thank me for, dear," Charlotte replied gently.

"Now go, quickly." She watched Elizabeth ascend the stairs with quiet concern, knowing full well that something had transpired—and she suspected it had everything to do with Mr. Darcy.

She had seen him leave Rosings just moments after their arrival, and on the ride back, she had glimpsed him crossing the gardens alone, his clothes just as drenched as Elizabeth's.

As Charlotte made her way toward the kitchen, she could not help but think to herself,'Eliza, I only hope you were practical this time.

.. and did not let an excellent opportunity slip away. '