Page 17 of An Interrupted Proposal (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

“The only reason that mattered to me was that Miss Bennet did not return my affection. I was told that she would accept my proposal at the urging of her mother but did not hold me in as great affection as I held her. I believed them because I was surprised that a lady like your daughter, who is good and kind, might be willing to marry me, a tradesman’s son.

My experience in the ton has shown me that most landed families would only be accepting of me for financial reasons.

Darcy is correct; I have been dependent on him in the past as it was only because of our friendship that I was able to enter certain establishments and homes.

There have been times that he saved me from making mistakes, but in this situation, he was wrong.

I was the one who spent time with Miss Bennet, who spoke to her, who came to know her heart.

I should have trusted in my instincts and known better than to listen to others who, in this circumstance, were not in the position to know either my heart or Jane’s. ”

“But there were other reasons given.” Mr. Bennet held Bingley’s gaze until the young man nodded.

“Your family’s financial standing, lack of connections, and behaviour were raised repeatedly, mostly by my sisters who aspire to join the first circles even though the chances of that ever happening are slim.”

Mr. Bennet frowned. “Yet these reasons did not affect your decision to remain in London?”

“No, sir. My fortune is sufficient to care for Jane and any children we might have, and I would be a hypocrite if I were to look down on your connections to trade when my ties to it are closer than hers.”

“And my family’s behaviour?”

Bingley’s lips pinched together, and his hands fisted in his lap.

“If you will forgive me for saying so, sir, there are certain members of your family who have been an embarrassment to your eldest daughters. In marrying Jane, I hope to remove her from those situations where she feels called upon to be the parent to those who are not her children. She and I have discussed what we could do to encourage certain changes within Longbourn, and we have hoped that our marriage might give Mrs. Bennet a certain peace as she would be well taken care of should you pass before her.”

“I see.” Mr. Bennet sat stiffly, meeting Bingley’s gaze, his fingers drumming on the book before him. Finally, he turned to Darcy. “And you, sir. Why do you suddenly wish to marry a girl who was tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt you the day you first met her?”

Darcy sat straighter and took a deep breath.

“I have asked Miss Elizabeth’s forgiveness for my cruel words that day.

In truth, it was not long after that evening that I began to note her intelligence and wit, and though her manners are not fashionable, they are playful and kind.

I was drawn to her and wished to know more of her.

By the time of the Netherfield ball, I realized there was a danger in admiring her as I felt I could not offer for her for the reasons Bingley dismissed so easily.

I have been raised knowing the expectations placed upon me and the woman who will one day be my wife.

When the suggestion was made to follow Bingley to London, I seized it, believing I could walk away from Miss Elizabeth and forget her. That was not the case.”

“Yet you did not return to Longbourn either.” Mr. Bennet smirked. “Although in your case, I doubt you would have received the welcome your friend would have received.”

“I am aware Miss Elizabeth’s feelings towards me were not what I thought.”

“You are?” Mr. Bennet’s surprise dissolved into a gleeful grin as he leant back into his chair. “And how did you come by this knowledge, sir?"

Darcy glanced at Bingley and, swallowing his pride, returned his gaze to Mr. Bennet. “Your daughter was very clear regarding her feelings when I attempted to propose to her in Kent.”

“She refused you?” Mr. Bennet asked, his expression still amused but also dismayed. “If her mother knew, she would be forbidden to return home for refusing another proposal,” he muttered.

“Another?” Darcy asked, but Mr. Bennet waved the comment away and motioned for him to continue.

“She had learnt of my interference with Bingley and her sister and was most displeased. She had also been given false information from Mr. Wickham which, when added to my poor behaviour, shewed me in a most unfavourable light.”

Mr. Bennet’s lips twitched, and his brow lifted in a manner similar to his second daughter’s. “So, what I am hearing is that Elizabeth humbled you, Mr. Darcy, and Jane emboldened you, Mr. Bingley.”

The gentlemen exchanged a glance before they both smiled and looked back at their host. “Yes,” they replied in unison.

“Then they will be the making of you both, I am certain.” Mr. Bennet patted his hand upon the book he had been reading when they arrived before placing his palms upon the desk and standing.

“I suppose we should tell my wife before she works herself into a fit of nerves. We have taken longer than she may be able to stand as it is.”

He crossed to the door but stopped and turned back to the men who had risen to follow him.

“Do not think I have forgotten what was said about my family. We will discuss it another day once my girls are home and they can be part of the conversation.” That said, he opened the door and proceeded back to the front parlour where Mrs. Bennet could be heard lamenting her fears that Mr. Bennet would send Mr. Bingley away, and they would all be thrown into the hedgerows the minute he died.

“Mrs. Bennet,” the man said as he entered the room ahead of the others. “I believe you will never have to consider a life in the hedgerows again. Neither of your future sons will allow such a thing to happen should you outlive me.”

“Oh!” she cried as she stood, clasping her hands together. “Mr. Bingley, I am so pleased!” She opened her mouth to continue but paused. “Did you say neither, Mr. Bennet?”

“I did.” He rocked back on his heels and grinned. “Mr. Bingley is engaged to our Jane, and Mr. Darcy has had the very good sense to propose to my Lizzy and has been accepted.”

Mrs. Bennet stared at Darcy, her mouth agape, and then swooned.

Darcy saw the lady’s eyes glaze over just before she began to collapse and he rushed towards her, catching her just before she hit the floor.

The other gentlemen stared in amazement while the youngest girls giggled, yet again.

Darcy fought the urge to roll his eyes as he eased Mrs. Bennet into her seat, and Miss Mary tugged the bell pull.

When the housekeeper appeared in the doorway, Miss Mary said in a calm voice, “Mamma’s smelling salts, please, Hill,” before returning to her place at the table, as though the mistress of the house fainted on a daily basis.

Apparently she did, as the servant drew a vial from her pocket, uncapped it, and waved it under her mistress’s nose without a second thought. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes blinked open, and she stared at Darcy in amazement. “You certainly are handsome, are you not?” she said in a soft breathy voice.

“Yes, yes,” Mr. Bennet muttered as he stepped forwards and motioned Darcy away. “Well, Mrs. Bennet, have you recovered from your shock, or should we assist you to your rooms?”

“My rooms?” She turned a bemused expression upon him. “I cannot remove above stairs, sir. We have guests.” She turned and smiled at the young men. “You must stay for dinner. I insist. We have so much to discuss and plan.”

“If it will not be too much for you,” Bingley replied with a grin. When his hostess insisted it would not, he asked, “If I might send a note to Mrs. Nicholls first, so she does not go to any trouble for us this evening?”

“Of course, of course.” Mrs. Bennet motioned towards her middle daughter. “Mary can provide writing supplies.” She turned a coquettish smile on Darcy. “Please, be seated, sir. You are so tall, and it strains my neck to look up at you.”

Darcy bowed and claimed the seat a short distance from her. “Are you well, madam?”

A girlish smile overtook her features, revealing a glimpse of how her eldest daughter might one day appear.

“I cannot remember a day I was better. Now, you must tell me your preferences, sir. Do you favour pheasant or quail? Venison or ham? How do you prefer your potatoes prepared? Have you a favourite dish?”

Mr. Bennet took the seat beside his wife and patted her hand which lay upon the armrest. “You will find your future mother is an exquisite hostess, Mr. Darcy. She has a knack for making all feel welcomed by providing a variety of delicacies to appease the most particular eater.”

“I would not want you to go to any unnecessary trouble, Mrs. Bennet. Whatever you planned to serve will suffice.” Darcy glanced in Bingley’s direction, hoping his friend would quickly finish his missive and join their conversation.

“Nonsense! Do you have a French cook, sir? Mrs. Campbell’s father was Scottish, but her mother was a French cook, and she has several of her mother’s receipts which are quite delicious.”

“In truth, I prefer a good English meal.”

“Ah, so venison or pheasant,” the lady replied with a knowing nod. “And you, Mr. Bingley? What are your favourites?”

Bingley took the seat beside Darcy. “I am as pleased with a good ragout as I am a fancy feast. It is the company which makes the meal pleasurable,” he replied with a grin.

The girlish giggle returned. “You are so easy to please, sir. You and my Jane will be quite content together, I am certain.”

Miss Lydia chose this moment to approach. “Mr. Bingley,” she said as she batted her eyelashes. “It would be a great honour if you threw another ball for Jane, to mark your betrothal.”

“Oh, yes!” Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands together. “How romantic that would be.”